Chapter 38

The word was heavy on her tongue. They stared at each other for a long, tense moment, their eyes piercing into each other. Her's were the green of her father's, his were the brown of her mother's (and her brother's, though his were a slight different shade). They did look similar in a certain light. They both had the same raven locks and the same jaw, though his was more muscular while hers was more slender. But other than that, she didn't look like his sister.

Everra assumed that was one of the very many reasons he hated her.

"Welcome," she greeted cooly, and glanced back at where Alexius had jumped onto the ground, and had begun walking to him. Her uncle diverted his gaze from her to appraise RedRun and his mouth twisted as though he were amused by something.

"Is something funny?" She asked him sharply, observing his every move. Her uncle was probably the most dangerous man she had ever met, even if she had been a mere child when she first met him.

"No," he answered simply, and his accent was not that thick as he spoke, though there was something off that indicated he was not from here. "Apologies my lady I was merely looking at the place where my sister committed suicide for the first time. Forgive me for being slightly bothered."

His stare was filled with venom as he looked at her, and she imagined that if her father were still alive he would have killed him. Everra was about to reply when she was cut off by the sound of Alexius's loud voice, his accent thick as he spoke, "Everra!" he greeted, stalking up to her and planting a kiss on her mouth. Volantene, Everra thought, scowling, and pulled away from him before shooting him a cold, levelled look.

"Alexius," she said in her usual monotone, "I am betrothed." He raised an eyebrow at that, but grudgingly took a step away from her, "And here in Westeros people do not take it too kindly when strangers kiss them on the mouth in greeting. As a matter of fact, they don't appreciate that anywhere."

"You've been away from Essos far too long," he said, as though he had not even heard what she had said, "And from Volantis even longer."

"This is my home, Alexius," she told him, her eyes unreadable, "And it's Lady Everra to you. Same as it has always been before."

"How touching," her Uncle deadpanned, shooting Alexius a look of annoyance. Everra turned and waved a hand over her head, signalling for them to open the door. They took a few steps away from the door, and waited for it to open.

"I am surprised that you both travelled away from Volantis," she murmured, glancing between the two of them.

"Why ever not?" Her uncle retorted, "We have never been to Westeros before."

There was a few moments of silence as they waited for the doors to open, and once they did they all wordlessly walked into the front courtyard, and she watched in silence as they observed her castle. Alexius with an expression of curiosity and her uncle with a blank expression. No doubt he was thinking of her mother, his elder sister. This is going to be horrible, she thought to herself, and looked at the steps leading into the castle and was somehow not surprised to find Jon, Robb, Lady Catelyn and many other awaiting them there.

She returned to them silently, before turning once more to look at her uncle and Alexius.

"Your grace," she said, pausing for a moment before introducing them, "Meet my uncle, Lord Parquello and Lord Alexius." Robb's eyes widened at that, before they narrowed at her and she could see others look at each other in surprise at the mention of her uncle. She spared Jon a glance, whose eyes had widened so considerably on his face she thought they would pop out. He looked more like their mother than she ever did, and she was counting on that for her Uncle's support.

I'll explain later, she wanted to say but instead conveyed that in her eyes.

"Your grace," her uncle echoed uncaringly, with Alexius doing the same. They did not care for the Kings and noble families of Westeros. They were here because. . . it wasn't for her, at least not with her uncle and she doubted that was why Alexius came as well. Alexius owed her a debt for her saving his life all those years ago and her uncle. . . they were family, despite their bad relationship. Her mother had told her of their 'strong bond' as children.

She watched expressionless as Alexius searched the crowd for someone and then she remembered with a jolt that he had known—

"Where is Daavos?" He asked her, his eyes questioning. Daavos had been his friend once, or at least they had shared a few cups of wine over supper a few times, if that could count as friendship.

"He's dead," she told him, watching as he nodded, as though he had somehow already guessed it when he saw that Daavos wasn't by her side.

"How did he die?"

She frowned at him ever-so-slightly and after a moment of not replying she spoke, "I killed him for treason."

His eyes grew wide at that, almost as if in surprise, his eyebrows rising on his face.

"Lovely," her uncle stated, and she kept her eyes on his every move as introductions were made.

She stayed silent until he and Alexius reached Oberyn and she most have surprised many as she moved to his side, their arms brushing against each other. "Uncle, Alexius, meet my betrothed; Prince Oberyn of Dorne."

There is a few moments of silence before they greet each other and whatnot and by that time Everra's suspicion and wariness of her uncle has died down a little but it is still not fully gone.

It was when Everra and Robb were making their way down to the dungeons that he asked her incredulously, "Your uncle? I didn't even know you had an uncle—"

"I never told you because he despises me," Everra interrupted, shooting him a look.

Their strides were brisk as they continued down to the dungeons. "Why does he despise you?" he asked quietly.

"He hates me because I am my father's daughter," she told him numbly, "Because I couldn't stop my mother from throwing herself off those battlements. Because she got pregnant with me in the first place."

Robb frowned at her in the darkness, though they both continued on moving, "He should know that you had no control over that—"

"He does," she told him, "He just doesn't care. The only reason why he is probably here is to meet Jon."

"He knows—"

"Yes," she cut him off firmly, and they brushed past the jailor, who quickly followed behind them and shakily opened the door to Melissandre's cell.

The door closes behind them with a loud bang which wakes Melissandre with a sudden jolt.

"Your grace," she says, her voice laced with surprise. Which was slightly unusual for someone like her. Everra had not visited her since she had slammed her fist into her face nor had she told Robb of her visit. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Everra was eager to leave this cell and her as fast as she could.

"We have a proposition for you," she began, walking towards her.

"We want you to write to Selyse Baratheon and tell her to accept our alliance and offer of marriage for her daughter to Rickon Stark. Tell her to accept all terms," Robb said from behind her. Melissandre looked up at her, her eyes wide and eery. "Why should I?" she asked, and her tone was slightly mocking.

"Because if you do, and if we win, we will let you go," Everra said reluctantly, "Whether you travel back to Dragonstone or wherever you crawled out from is up to you. However, you will swear to your precious god of light to never rise up against either of us in exchange for your freedom."

Melissandre blinked, as though she were surprised by the terms and she was only silent for a few moments before she gave them her answer. And then as Robb left the cell, Melissandre whispered something to her, that made her skin grow cold.

(A letter was sent to Dragonstone that same say)

Everra was in her solar when Maester Liwin approached her, with Lord Yullian behind him. She stared up at them from where she sat behind her desk, a pen in her hand.

"Maester," she greeted, before her gaze flickered to Lord Yullian, "My lord."

"My lady," they both echoed, bowing accordingly.

"To what do I owe this visit?" she asked, her cool gaze washing over them both.

Maester Liwin clasped his hands together and cleared his throat before he began, "My lady, it has recently occurred to me that you have no heir of your own or any other heir presumptive since you have no other relatives from your father's side. If you shall die, who shall inherit your title and your lands?"

It took a few moments for her to fully understand what he was asking, and much to her displeasure she realised she had never truly thought about it. Yes, death was a possibility she had always known that but she had never truly put much thought into it. That had been quite foolish of her, and she cursed herself for her mistake. She dropped the pen onto the table, and her gaze lingered on Lord Yullian.

"I recognise your concern," she admitted and directed her gaze to the Maester. There was a few moments of tense silence before she commanded, "Bring his grace and my Uncle to this room. Tell them it is urgent."

She watched as the Maester bowed and hurried from the room, before she redirected her gaze towards Lord Yullian. The man was loyal she would give him that and possessed a foolish kind of courage but she did not trust him with her lands. He would gamble the Bloodlands fortune all away. But she knew that if she did not grant him something he would stray away from her, so she cleared her throat and began to speak.

"Lord Yullian, you have been the most loyal of my banner men and I have not forgotten it. Nor will I." There was a moment of silence before she continued, staring at the man who had a permanent smile on his face, though he looked rather abashed now, "However, as it turns out, I have a relative who has a. . . somewhat distant claim to my lands and title. And I would like for him to succeed me. I will grant you the two years worth of income from Lord Edwin and Lord Willem's castles if I shall die and I have no doubt that my successor shall further reward you."

He nodded, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide, "Thank you for your generosity, my lady."

"You are dismissed," she replied, and picked up her pen to continue writing. It was only a short while later that they came into the room.

She looked at the Maester, her uncle and Robb with a feeling of certainty flushing through her veins. She let out a breath and glanced down at the blank paper, before slowly beginning to write, and saying what she wrote as she did so.

"I, Lady Everra Legrath of the Bloodlands, Wardness of the Blood, do wish that if I shall die without issue, my half brother Jon Snow shall succeed me as Lord Jon Legrath of the Bloodlands and Warden of the Blood. I also dictate that my body shall be burned and my ashes scattered by the lavender tree. Lord Yullian Maery shall receive two years of income from the deceased Lord Edwin and Lord Willem Gilbert's castles as reward for his services." She signed her will and handed it over to Robb, who signed it and then her uncle who signed it as well.

"I thank you both for your co-operation," she told them, and when her eyes connected with her uncle's she knew what she had to do next. Robb seemed to get the hint as well and quickly left the room without a word, the Maester at his heels.

"You have to stay if I die," she told him, her eyes boring into his, "He's going to need all the help he can get."

Her uncle regarded her with an expression of bemusement, "You're asking me to stay in the very place where my sister was raped and driven to suicide so that I can help your bastard brother—"

"I am asking you to stay so that you can help her son," Everra interrupted, her eyes as cold as Northern Winters, "If you knew and loved my mother as much as you say, you should know that this would be what she would have wanted."

He regarded her closely before letting out a bitter laugh and telling her, "I was wrong you know? You are your father's daughter but some of my sister lingers within you as well. Though you hide it very well."

Everra's smile was deadly. "I do have a reputation to maintain."

"A reputation of being a horrible person?" he uncle asked, rising from his chair, "Because don't worry, that still hasn't changed."

The words no longer stung her deep down.

Robb and Everra were not surprised to find that Selyse Baratheon wrote back far faster than she did the last time, and were even more unsurprised to find that she had agreed to the terms, all of them. Shireen Baratheon was now on her way to Winterfell.

Robb read the letter to the council during a meeting, and she watched as their faces relaxed with relief, the taunt lines slowly disappearing. She caught Lady Catelyn's eye for a moment, before the older woman looked away.

"Lord Parquello, Lord Alexius I think it is most wise if you go to Dragonstone with your ships and summon the remaining ones that are still in Essos. If you could send word for them to start sailing today, it would be most appreciated."

Everra watched as her uncle nod before glancing back at Robb, who had turned to look at his mother, an uncomfortable look appearing on his face.

"Mother you shall go back to Winterfell to be with Bran, Arya and Rickon and Shireen and I am sending a host of men with you that will take all of you away in case we lose."

Everra watched as Catelyn Stark shook her head and began to protest, "I am going with you, Robb, wherever you go, Sansa needs me."

There was some truth to that, and as Everra watched Robb she realised why he had chosen to do this now, in front of everyone; he thought she would go easier. She watched as lines of frustration appeared on Robb's face, and how a defeated look appeared in his eyes.

"Fine," he allowed, "But you stay wherever it is instructed of you and you will leave if we lose and travel to Winterfell."

Catelyn Stark nodded, relief flooding through her features.

Everra watched as Robb's face hardened once more, and the mask he wore— his King face— appeared.

"We have one major dilemma when attacking King's Landing," Robb said, rubbing his hands together,

Everra had told him of the battle of Blackwater with Stannis a few nights ago, when they had began to strategise together.

"Wildfire."

It was late at night and Robb and Everra were still in the council room, pouring over details over the map. Robb glanced at Everra, who was biting down on her bottom lip in thought. Something within him stirred at the sight, as though a monster inside of him was slowly awakening. He rubbed at his eyes, exhausted, yet determined to figure out a plan of attack.

"Maybe we should tell Tyrion to convince them not to use wildfire," he murmured, twirling a landmark in between his fingers, exhaustion making his limbs feel heavy.

She let out a small breath at his words, as though she were amused. She glanced at him, her green eyes looking warmer than usual in the candle light. "If he does that they will be on to him," she muttered back, and then directed her gaze back at the map of Kings Landing. Another, smaller map lay close to her, the map that Varys gave her.

Robb observed her carefully, taking notice of the curve of her upper lip, the longness of her lashes, the way her dark eyebrows arched and the lump he felt in his chest all of a sudden was uncomfortably big. She dragged one finger down from the bottom of the map to somewhere in the middle, and drummed her finger down against that one spot.

"What is it?" he asked, moving closer to her.

She frowned, a crease appearing in the space between her eyes as she concentrated, "If we attack by the mud gate, which is where the gate is closest to the water, they will have all of their men focused there. All of their archers, all of their warriors, everything." Robb nodded at her words, waiting for her to continue, "They wouldn't notice if someone went and opened a secret passage for a host of us to come in from behind."

"But which secret passage," Robb asked, "And who would open it? Tyrion can not randomly disappear during the battle, it would be far too suspicious."

She dragged the smaller map up next to the one of Kings Lading and pointed towards one of the secret passages. "This one enables us to both enter and leave the RedKeep. Most of the guards will be by the Mud Gate and the few guards that stay close to the RedKeep we kill. Then we figure out a signal something that will alert our fleet to begin firing the catapults."

"That's a gamble," Robb pointed out, "We may be killing some of our own men."

She turned to look at him, and told him, "You sent two thousand men to their graves, knowing full well they had no chance of surviving. At least now this host will have a chance. A good one."

"And if they set fire to the Wildfire ship?" Robb asked, "Then our fleet will be destroyed and thousands of our men will perish."

She frowned and stayed silent before Robb leaned over the map as well, tracing Blackwater on the map. He was frustrated as well as he stared down at the map, before it hit him.

"Everra," he said, gasping, "If the Lannisters could send out empty ships filled with wildfire, why can't we? The battle lines will be separated into ten lines with 20 or so ships in each line. If we do indeed send a small host in a surprise attack of perhaps five to ten thousand soldiers we will not need all of our ships. The front lines of our fleet could be empty and the rest will be behind it, therefore—"

"Our men will not be butchered," she finished, her voice filled with relief.

They looked at each other then, and suddenly the words slipped out of his mouth, the words that had whispered in the back of his mind for months now.

"I love you," he blurted out, watching as she froze.

He suddenly felt light, like a leaf blowing in the wind, as though the words— or what the words meant— had been weighing him down without him even realising it.

"I love you," he repeated, their eyes locked into a gaze.

There was a few moments of silence, and with each passing moment of her not saying anything he slowly began to regret saying it. By the gods, he thought, now I've made a mess of everything. He opened his mouth to say something, may be even apologise before she stepped forward, grabbed a hold of his face and kissed him full on the mouth.

He stood there, stunned and unresponsive for a few moments before he gradually began to move his lips against hers. I love you he thought, wanting to whisper it into her skin, into her hair, I love you. She pulled away from him, though they were still incredibly close, their noses almost touching. Her eyes were surprisingly tender as they gazed into his own. She leaned her forehead closer to his and he did the same, her hands lowering to his chest as she squeezed his shoulders.

He was the one who kissed her this time, and he whispered "I love you" against her lips, He could feel her lips begin to pull into a small, rare smile and he pulled away from her again, all of his fear of her rejection fading into something like joy. He felt drunk as he stared at her, and ridiculously fearless as he noticed the warmness in her eyes. He kissed her again, harder this time around, and sunk his hands into her hair.

How could you ever ask me to marry someone else? he thought, as their mouths moved together. How could you ever ask me to let you go? They pulled away from each other at the same time and she stepped away from him, though she grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him with her. It was a painfully slow walk to her chambers, and he was thankful that it was too late at night for anyone to be about. He didn't think he would be able to let go of her hand. They commanded Greywind and Andromache to keep watch as they entered her chambers before gently shutting the door behind them.

Her hands were slow and soft as they unlaced his doublet before pulling it down his shoulders. It was different than before. Before they were both eager to undress the other, desperate for their skin to touch each other. This was different. This was both of them taking their time undressing the other, savouring the moment, for they both knew that they could die very soon and even if they didn't, they would both have to marry others.

"I love you," he whispered, as he unlaced the back of her dress, and pressed a soft kiss against the back of her shoulder. She turned around in his arms once he had finished and kissed him, her dress pooling down to the ground, leaving her in her small clothes. She tugged him towards the bed gently, and showed him what she couldn't say.

Everra lay there staring at the canopy, Robb having fallen asleep long before. She was tired, that was undeniable but for some reason sleep would not come. So she had laid there for hours, listening to the sound of Robb breathing beside her, keeping still when he wrapped an arm around her waist in his sleep, and pulled her closer. I love you.

It had been many years since someone had said that to her. She had known that Daavos was in love with her but he had never said it to her before. Their relationship had never been that of the romantic kind anyway, and she had never loved him. Cared for him? Yes. She had even grieved for him when he died, but she had't loved him. She cast a glance towards Robb, her eyes lingering on his lips before flickering over his face. She took careful notice of his lips and the curls that brushed against his forehead and the beard that was slowly beginning to grow. Her heart clenched at the sight and she glanced away from him.

I love you.

She felt something for him, that she could not deny, even to herself. She felt something strong whenever he kissed her and she had felt something when he had told her he loved her. Something very much like happiness. Everra closed her eyes tightly and was disturbed to find the image of her father appearing in her mind. He had damaged her beyond repair, and ruined her for anything that was involved with love. She didn't know how to love because of him and she still didn't. Her heart was too damaged to ever be capable of it, it was too broken— too fragmented. She remembered Robb's words from long ago, Are you doing this because you want me or because you want someone to warm your bed? Everra knew the answer now and it caused both terror and something else to stir within her. She sighed softly and turned to look at him and knew in that moment that while her heart couldn't love him, the rest of her did. Her body loved his touch, her hands loved the feeling of his curls under her grip, her lips craved his own.

Maybe she did love him, she allowed, but now was not the time to find out.

(She hoped she one day found the courage to find out)

They tell the lords of the plan the very next day, and decide that Lord Parquello and Lord Alexius are most definitely leaving, as majority of the ships are theirs and that Prince Oberyn should go with them as well. That had been Robb's idea.

Everra said goodbye to her uncle under a cloudy sky, with her heart as hard as a stone in her chest. Her uncle had been the only family she had once, and he had turned her away for something she could not control. He didn't deserve her guilt. He didn't deserve anything from her.

So that's why she was surprised when he pressed a kiss to her cheek and murmured into her ear, "You are my sister's child as well, Everra. I have not forgotten, nor will I ever." He moved away from her and then went into his palanquin. Alexius gives her another kiss on the lips before she can move away and sets off with a wink in her direction.

Leaving Oberyn to stand there, staring at her. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had a conversation alone with Oberyn and yet she is surprised deep down when she realises that she doesn't want him to die. Out of many people she know's, and men she could have married, he is one of the more tolerable ones and won't try to control her.

"Farewell, Prince Oberyn," she told him, offering her his hand. He took it without hesitation, and told her, "I hope you survive."

Everra didn't answer, and instead watched him leave in silence, standing there next to a tearful Ellaria.

They leave for Kings Landing when they receive word from Dragon Stone and when Everra leaves her home with Robb and Jon by her side she wondered if she would ever see it again. The castle had been a place of horror for her, but it was home.

It would always be home.

A/N Hello everyone! Sorry for this chapter being so late, but it was a bitch to write. Literally. Out of all the chapters in this story this one was the hardest that I can remember writing. Don't know why. Thank you all for your support along this journey of our's, I hope you will stay with me for the remaining two chapters. Hoped you all enjoyed this! Tell me your thoughts! Thanks for everything!

Until next time

Fionakevin073