"Your Grace, Papa sent word," Nymeria told Robb, handing him a note from the raven that Oberyn had sent from Dorne. "They have framed the Crown for an attack on the Water Gardens after they sent Sansa off on the Silver Storm to Meereen with Tyrion Lannister as her hostage. They would 'start to rile the Reach up' when you give your agreement."

Robb read the contents of the letter and sighed. "Why are they starting this so soon?" he asked, his eyes immediately darting to the new map that the Northern cartographers had drawn. Ever since he had started to marshal his own armies, Robb had a slight obsession with maps. He always needed his to be the most current, and would send huge numbers of scouts throughout Westeros to learn of the latest positions and developments.

"They did not say," Nymeria shrugged. "However, Papa did say that they will stop if you want them to if they find your advise reasonable."

"Well then, we must not give our enemies too long to rest on their laurels, I guess," Robb returned. "Good job, Lieutenant Sand."

"Would you want to convene with the lords?" Nymeria asked him. Winterfell had underwent a significant restructuring since Robb's return. He had allowed himself and his lords two weeks of respite with their families, and when he went up the Wall, they all went with him although he remained at Castle Black to learn about the Night's Watch with Jon and Ser Alliser. When he returned to Winterfell, they followed him as well and they had never left unless of matters of great import in their lands. He would keep it that way. His decision was to keep Winterfell as the capital of the North, and to expand the keep to accommodate the lords of the various Northern houses and their immediate families. If the denizens of Winterfell could be united like those in Dorne, then he would at least try to emulate what their allies were doing. He knew that it would be a bumpy ride, but at least they would have to start from somewhere.

"Later," Robb told her. "I will broach the subject gently."

"Very well, Your Grace," Nymeria replied and gave him a small bow as she sought to leave his presence.

"Nym, are you... busy with anything?"

Nymeria looked as if she did not know how to answer his question. "Well... no, Your Grace," she said. "I was just going to find where Obara was."

"Oh, it's nothing," Robb said. "I was just wondering if you missed home, and Obara, of course." He looked towards her and found that she looked more startled than anything. "What? Was it something I said?"

"No, Your Grace," Nymeria said. "It's just... Papa said that our younger sisters, Tyene and Sarella will be joining him. They won't be actively fighting, but... he told Obara and I that he is proud of us, serving under you. We've always known that, and he's never needed to say anything so..."

Robb clapsed her shoulder because she looked as though she was going to cry, not because she was homesick, but it was something else, something deeper and more profound. "I know what that's like," he told her. "When I mustered the Northern Armies, Father was locked up in a cell beneath the Red Keep, but my lords told me that he'd be proud of what I was doing. It's a great feeling, knowing that those you care about have great confidence in you."

"Yes, Your Grace," Nymeria said. "Thank you for your kind words."

"Don't mention it, Nym," Robb replied. "You must always remember you're not only my lieutenant, you're my niece through Sansa as well. Family is family here. Isn't it like that in Dorne too?"

This time, Nymeria chuckled in earnest. "Yes, Your Grace, yes it is."

Robb smiled too. "So, run along now. I won't keep you from whatever it is you're going to do."

"Oh, it's nothing, I was going to look for Princess Arya to see if she wanted to spar-"

"Robb, you better come quick!" Just as Nymeria had mentioned Arya, she had came rumbling into the hallway, only stopping when she caught sight of her brother. "Talisa... Talisa's in labor!"

"Wait, what?" Robb asked. He was not sure if he had heard Arya right the first time. "She's in labor?" His faced paled. "But... it's only been eight months!" Knowing the urgency of the situation, Robb immediately let Arya bring him into the birthing chamber. It had already been prepared since their return to Winterfell. He knew where it was, but he had feared that in the state that he was after receiving the news, he would not be even able to walk. He knew the danger of childbirth. It was his first time being a father, and he did not know what to expect. All he knew that it was going to be a horrendously painful time for Talisa and he was to be blamed for it for putting the babe in her womb, and now it was an impatient one.

Sadly for him, the door to the chamber was already barred. Obara served as a door-guard and would not let anyone in without Catelyn's say-so. "The birthing chamber is no place for men," Obara told Robb firmly, closing the door shut after she let Arya in.

"That's my wife and child in there!" Robb exclaimed. "I demand that I be allowed to enter."

Still, Obara shook her head. "You know, I stood watch when Ellaria gave birth to my sisters and my father never did once dare to cross me," she reminded Robb, deliberately hitting the end of her spear onto the stone floor. "What can you do when you get in there, Your Grace? Hold her hand and say comforting words? Your presence there will only distract the Queen, which is far more dangerous than you staying out here."

Nymeria gave Robb a sympathetic nod. "She's right, Your Grace," she said. "You would be doing more harm than good if you go in."

Robb only sighed and sat in the chair opposite the doors of the birthing chambers, knowing that scratching the door down with his bare fingers was not an option.

Talisa's screams were excruciating to hear from the outside. They would be even harder to bear from within the chamber. "Arya, get us more hot water and clean towels," Catelyn told Arya, who nodded and rushed out of the room, completely ignoring Robb, who was most likely moping outside. She had quickly returned with everything that was needed.

"She is losing too much blood," Maester Marlan said. "If it goes on like that, I fear that mother and child will die." Catelyn shot Marlan a deadly look as Talisa tried hard to push, and the maester prudently kept his silence. Inauspicious things could not be said in the birthing chamber, not because of their nature, but they would have tremendous effects on the mother who was giving birth. Turning towards Talisa, he soothed, "Your Grace, you must push. The baby is early, which means it is a small one..."

Talisa got his meaning and nodded. She pushed and pushed, not knowing what result it would bring. "Is it coming?" she asked her mother-in-law and the maester.

"I... I see the head!" Maester Marlan exclaimed. "A few more pushes, and the baby will come."

Talisa steeled her nerves and did as she was told. It took only two pushes for the baby to come out, and it came out screaming, thankfully. It was just a little small. "My baby..." she rasped, looking towards Catelyn with tears in her eyes. She did not know if they were tears of exhaustion or joy.

"You have a prince, child," Catelyn told her while the nursemaids quickly cleaned the baby up and kissed her forehead. "It's a boy!"

"Name him Eddard," Talisa told her mother-in-law. There was something in her eyes that did not belie a woman that was celebrating the birth of her newborn baby. She looked like a woman embracing death. "Mother, call Robb, please." Her husband came running in the moment Arya opened the doors. "Robb... our son..."

The baby was gingerly placed into Robb's arms. He was crying loudly, and was a little small. "He looks just like his mother," Robb told her. Their son's skin had a slight copper sheen, but inherited his father's blue eyes. His hair was straight like that of Talisa's, even. "The North has a Prince Ed now."

"I'm glad," Talisa said. "An heir to your family, as you need so much..."

"I need you by my side as well, Talisa," Robb told her. "What are you talking about?"

Using what remained of her strength, Talisa caressed the side of Robb's cheek. "Oh, my sweet, sweet Robb," she cooed to both her husband and her son. "As much as I want to continue living on with you, I cannot," she told him. She was not a fool, but a healer above all. She knew her body, and she knew from the moment when she was in labor, she had little chance to survive. She prayed. She prayed to her husband's Old Gods, to the Seven Gods that came to Westeros from Essos, to the Lord of Light, she called to all the Gods to preserve her child, and her prayers were answered. In the end, it was the Many-Faced God that would take her away.

"You're not going anywhere!" Robb sobbed even as their son sensed his anguish and began to cry again. "You're staying with us!"

"If I could, I would," Talisa told him. "Perhaps we would meet in another world, another life, where I am a golden-haired scullery maid and you a dashing prince come to save me from my wicked stepmother..."

"Talisa!" he chastised her, for even near death she would have such deadpan fantasies. "Think about our son."

A tear escaped her eyes. "Promise me that you will take good care of him," she pleaded him, her voice getting weaker and weaker by the second.

"I will protect him with my life," Robb swore. "He's our Ed, Talisa. I'd do everything for him."

Talisa nodded, and let Robb pull her into his arms for one last kiss. "Tell... my mother and father... tell them that I lived a beautiful life as their daughter. I thank them for everything. Tell them... that I am sorry that I didn't become a famous healer in Westeros, but the Queen in the North..." Even near death, she wanted to be remembered as who she had been in life. "Robb..."

"What?"

"I love you..."

She was looking at a woman giving birth to a child. From how she looked she thought that the woman was Volantene, but she was surrounded by a stone walls and people draped in furs. She must be from somewhere very, very cold. Could it be Winterfell? The Volantene woman had a difficult birth, and she knew that the chances of her surviving this birth were little. Ser Barristan told her that the King in the North had returned to his lands for reasons unknown, so, she must have been looking at his Queen? If so, it would be a disturbing thing to see...

The Queen had now given birth, and the King was called into the birthing chamber. She watched as they exchanged their last words to each other. A painful thing to watch, because she knew what it was like to be parted from one so loved. She knew what it was like to carry a child without the child surviving. She understood everything that played out before her eyes. Yet, there was some strength in the child. This child was not merely a Westerosi child with Essos ancestry. She could see it in his eyes. He would be a great king one day.

She hoped that the King would one day have a better fate. She hoped that one day, all would be well with him and his family.

"Oh... Robb..."

There was another voice. A woman's voice. One that did not belong. She turned around and saw a girl. She had the King's blue eyes and his mother's red hair. She was Sansa Stark!

"What are you doing here?" Sansa asked her. "I thought... this was my vision?"

She shook her head. "I do not understand it either," she told the other woman. "My... condolences to your family."

Sansa nodded and sighed. "Poor, poor Robb," she said. "And the baby..." She had thought that Talisa truly made him happy, and the fact that she was pregnant gave them hope for the survival of their family. It was cruel to have them parted at such a pivotal time. She could not imagine the same happening to her, Oberyn and Ellaria... Such news would even enforce Oberyn's belief that her having a child at this time was a risk that they dared not take.

"I am not a stranger of such pain," she told Sansa. "I lost a child and then a husband..." However, Sansa did not hear her. She just continued to look at her family, while she felt as if she was getting pulled away from whatever that she was seeing.

"Your Grace... Your Grace!"

Missandei was shaking Daenerys, who had collapsed suddenly in the hallway on their way to the throne room. Thankfully, she woke up just as suddenly as she had collapsed.

"I'm fine, Missandei," she told her translator and majordomo. "I just... had a vision."

"A vision, Your Grace?" Missandei asked. "May I ask of what?"

"The North," was all Daenerys could say at first. "I was in the North, looking at the Starks. Sansa... I saw Sansa as well..."

"Dorne has sent a message, Your Grace," Missandei added after a small gulp. "They are sending Princess Sansa with a hostage to you. The ship will arrive in three days."

Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "Why would Dorne bring them to me?" she asked. "What do they intend?"

However, Missandei shook her head. "Even Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah are confounded. They will speak to you about this after you meet the people."

"Then we must go quickly," Daenerys said, dusting off her dress. "Come, we can't let the people wait too long for us."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Tyrion Lannister was having tea with Sansa in near one of the windows on the lower deck when she suddenly collapsed. He had tried to seek help, but the very moment he saw Sansa's eyes turn a strange, cloudy white, he hesitated. The fact that she neither struggled nor seemed fearful in the mere seconds before her collapse meant that she knew that such a thing was going to happen to her. Once she hit the floor, she turned completely still, not moving an inch until she took a deep gasp of air and opened her eyes again. The entire process took about three minutes, Tyrion guessed.

"Did anyone see what happened?" Sansa asked as she climbed back to her chair, her voice and body shaking slightly.

Tyrion shook his head in earnest. "No one saw," he swore. "What... happened Sansa? Are you narcoleptic, because if you are, you wouldn't have your eyes opened..."

"I'm not narcoleptic," Sansa said. "Tyrion... you mustn't tell anyone what you saw. If you did, I'll have to kill you and I swear it." Right before his eyes, Sansa drew a dagger that was sheathed in her boots and gave quite a show that she knew how to use a blade to defend herself.

"I'm your hostage, dear Sansa," Tyrion told her. "If I did anything to you, not only Dorne would have my head, but the North as well. Look, you don't have to tell me what happened to you if you don't want to. But if you want me to be able to help you when the same thing happens again..."

Sansa sighed. "I'm a Greenseer, Tyrion," she said. "I've been like that since... since I met Oberyn. I don't know what lead to it, but... apparently it's because there's First Men blood in my veins."

Tyrion grimaced pointedly. "Well that seems to be the least of your worries, isn't it?" He had read that being able to see into the future or across vast distances was a terrible gift, not because of the nature of the gift itself. It was the fact that the one having the gifts would not be able to stop whatever was happening. "How did you know that you were a Greenseer?"

"I was meeting Ellaria for the first time and I just... collapsed like I did just now," she answered. "It happened infrequently, but luckily for me, Oberyn and Ellaria were always there when I had my... visions."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise," he reassured her. Then, Sansa started to tear up. "What's the matter?"

Sansa shook her head. "I'm going to give him a good knock on his head the next time I see him," she seethed, having been reminded of her husband's actions. "In all honesty, no matter how handsome and how... gallant Oberyn is, he treats me as if I'm a porcelain doll. He trains me how to fight, but only with a dagger. He indulges me in everything but... it feels as though he is actually too scared to do anything else. I'm sorry... I must be boring you about my marriage."

"On the contrary, Sansa," Tyrion said. "You are married to Oberyn Martell of all people. Everyone will want to know about your marriage. I'm sure dear Queen Margery would faint at anything you give her, in fact." He knew how the Red Keep tittered and gossiped after Sansa's wedding to Oberyn. Many people wondered how the marriage bed would fit three, particularly when Oberyn openly flaunted his paramour and Sansa did not openly despise the woman. Maids came and went saying that they saw all three of them locked in the embrace of lovers, kissing and carousing one another when they thought no one was looking.

"I know he loves me," Sansa said. "But... I just don't understand why he does all these things. I know that I said that I wanted to be of use to everyone, but... why would he so willingly put me on this ship?"

"Sometimes, people do crazy things when they're in love," Tyrion told her, words that came from the bottom of his heart although Sansa might not know it. He too, had things that he had never told Sansa before, but he trusted her quick intuition to be able to grasp his meaning.

"Whatever happened to Shae?" Sansa asked him, causing his eyes to widen. "The two of you were... a..."

"Well, she's finally seen herself back home in Lorath," Tyrion said. "She came running to me after the trial. She told me that Cersei's men found her and said that they would kill her if she didn't do what she did at court. I told her that I forgive her and gave her a chain of silver coins so that she'll have a comfortable life back home."

Sansa poured him more tea as she nodded in understanding. "I hope she finds some amount of happiness there," she said.

"Wait... how did you find out about Shae and I?"

"Tyrion..."

"Sansa, I want to know!"

"Well, the thing is..."

HAN: You know what, I'm actually not sorry that I killed Talisa off. If everything was right and rosy in the world, then I would have a hard time writing because there's no conflict to be had. At the very least, let's welcome little Eddie Stark to the world!

I know that Greenseers might or might not be similar to whatever Targaryen seers can see, but I would like to think that that Dany and Sansa have some sort of a bond.

No, I'm not starting to ship Sansa and Tyrion.

Enjoy!