The Pack Survives

by LordStark5

The year is 302 AC. Westeros is deep in the midst of the War of the Five Kings. One is dead, and another has seen the war turn on him so badly that he wishes he were so. Little does Robb Stark know his family is about to be the subject of a much bigger game though, with them being forced to align with unnatural powers to avoid destruction.

2. Jeyne I

Jeyne

Jeyne Westerling woke up as a woman wed for the second time in her life. Only this time she was a queen. She was not the first queen that her family had produced, nor was she the first Jeyne to even be queen. Father had often spoken with pride when reflecting on the status of Queen Jeyne Westerling, one of King Maegor the Cruel's 'Black Brides' in spite of how reviled the King had actually been. It was a surreal experience for her.

When she had been married the first time, things always felt different when she returned to the Crag. It always felt like she was part of a different family, she was moved to a smaller guest bedchamber, and given less attention from her parents. After she returned as a widow, things had become a little closer to normal, though with father gone, and her children present, it was not the same. This time, as the wife of Robb Stark, she was not moved to a different room than the one she'd been sleeping in before, as she had usually fallen asleep nursing him back to health. Eventually, the war would dictate that they move, but they'd married at the Crag this time, rather than in her husband's castle.

Robb was still asleep at the moment, and she put a hand up to his forehead. His fever hadn't returned, and his bandage still looked clean enough. He'll be strong enough to take the field soon. The thought only made her feel nervous though. Her first husband had been strong enough for battle too, though he had been killed in the battle that had been called the Battle of the Green Fork. Jeyne had not been particularly fond of Ser Gaune Greenfield, and her mourning had not been difficult, but it was different with Robb. She cared for him deeply, even if there was much that ought to have made it impossible.

The day before had been a whirlwind of emotions for her. It had begun with her waking up in Robb's bed as she had been comforting him the night before, consoling him as he grieved for his family at Winterfell who had been cruelly ripped away from him, his brothers, his children, his wife… He'd been in such agony, such need of care that with a little encouragement from her own mother, she'd comforted him. When Robb realized what had happened the next morning, he'd grown even more distraught, and swore he would marry her that day to preserve her honor. At first she thought he was jesting. She was the widow of a man who had died in battle against his men, the daughter of another man who he had captured in one of his earlier battles, the member of a family whose castle he had taken a grievous wound while storming. But it turned out that he hadn't been.

The ceremony itself was a rushed affair. Robb had managed to appear in the Great Hall for breakfast, and announced his intentions then, being met with a widely negative reception. Luckily, Jeyne had a black gown to mark her widowhood, and her bridal cloak from her first wedding, and the marriage customs of the Old Gods proved to be much faster than she ever could have imagined. In the feast that came after, Robb was too weak to do more than a single dance with her, and after a couple of dances with her brothers, and one with her son, Lancel, and a pair of Robb's companions whose names she didn't remember, they retired for the night, not even partaking in a bedding ceremony, owing to the fact that they were both widowed and the fact that they had already bedded each other the night before.

Complicating things more had been her telling her family about it, her mother, uncle, brothers, sister and two children, and the spat that had occurred between Robb and Black Walder Frey, which resulted in Ser Ryman Frey ordering his men to leave, returning back to their faraway lands. Jeyne hadn't been there to see the spat take place, but her new husband had been thoroughly distraught over it, particularly as two of the Freys that left had been close friends of his, Alesander and Olyvar.

There was a sudden knocking on the door. "Your grace," a loud voice said. "You should come at once."

Reluctantly, Jeyne got out of bed. She knew the man who was knocking at their door had business for Robb, but she also didn't want to wake him up prematurely. He needed sleep, sleep to help him get through his pain, and sleep to heal. The day before, someone had moved a small amount of her clothes to this room, and she dug out a nightgown from the small wardrobe before going to the door. "What is it?" she asked, slightly cracking the door open.

On the other side was a man whom they called the Smalljon- one of the few men of Robb's who she'd been able to always recognize. "Is the King awake, your grace?" the Last Hearth's heir asked.

"Robb is still sleeping… I can wake him though," she said, shaking her head. Then she quickly clarified, "if it is urgent, that is. Otherwise, I think we both know rest would do him well."

"I'm aware, my lady. But it is urgent," the Smalljon insisted. Despite her marriage, many had still referred to her as my lady instead of your grace, which she had a hard time telling if it was out of habit or a deliberate lack of recognition of her status. But she'd spoken with the Smalljon the day before, and he had referred to her as your grace then, so she figured it was just a slip of the tongue. "Explaining it won't do- it would just be better for him to see."

Jeyne had a sense of what it might be, and she doubted it would be anything good. "I'll wake him, my lord," she promised Jon Umber, as she closed the door. "Your grace," she said, softly as she was returning back to their bed. "Your men want to see you."

His eyes fluttered open. "Wh-what?"

"Your men need you," she told him. "Quickly."

"What's happening? Are there enemies approaching?"

Are they? Jeyne didn't know, and she felt some worry begin to creep into her mind. Robb's great-uncle had been leading outriders out and hadn't reported any foes that were close by. She had been assured no one would slip past the legendary Blackfish, who she'd heard songs about as a girl, but from what she knew, Robb had not brought a large host with him, and his force had only gotten smaller with the Freys leaving him. "I don't know," was all she managed to say.

Robb started to sit up with some help from her. She wanted to ask him if he was feeling any better today, but she could tell he wasn't. It was grief that pained him, not the infection. Since the horrible letter had arrived, he had been despondent and sluggish. Sometimes when she wanted to cheer him up, she would ask him about his family at Winterfell, and he'd always seem to be much happier when he told her stories about his children. But since the letter, he had been so utterly miserable.

She dressed herself first, putting on the closest thing to a queenly outfit that she had. All those green outfits she used to wear when she was at Greenfield were no longer suitable for her status, so instead she wore a gown in the colors of House Westerling. The gown she wore was perhaps the fanciest one she wore, with seashell patterning within the elegant silk, with her bronze seashell earrings, that she'd received as a wedding gift from her father when she'd married Ser Guane. On top of that, she put on a grey cloak, which she had borrowed from Robb's chest of clothes.

When she looked back at Robb though, he was still struggling to get out of bed. So she went and picked out some clothes for him, a grey double, and grey trousers, to go with a blue cloak, and his boots. She helped him put them on, and decided to ask him questions that she had been meaning to ask him after he had told her he was going to marry her.

"Your grace," she began to say, "would you allow me to bring my children to Winterfell, when… the time comes?" She had two children by Gaune, a seven year old son named Lancel, and a daughter, who was called Kayanna. They'd had a third child too, named Arthur, but he was not particularly robust and had died around half a year before the start of the war.

Robb looked at her, a little bit mystified. "Why would I refuse?" he asked her. "They're your children… why would I force you to separate from them?"

"Pride," she said. Mother had told her often after she'd come back to the Crag that finding a potential match for her was going to be difficult not only due to the complications that had made it harder with her first marriage, but also the fact that beyond being widowed, she'd had children with her late husband. Men were less keen to welcome the children of a wife's previous marriage. "It's also customary that when women are remarried, that their children get raised by their closest male relative on their father's side. That would be Ser Garth, who is- or was my husband's younger brother. I believe you captured him during one of your battles, but… by tradition my children are to be put under his care now."

Robb shook his head. "Why were they here then?"

"I came here with them just after Gaune rode off to war," she explained. "The children came too, because I had wanted to see my family again, and… I didn't want to leave after that. We were safer here, than Greenfield, surely."

Her husband just shrugged. "So we'll just have to call them 'prisoners' then." He was studying her carefully as she helped him put his doublet on. "Did you think I was going to force you to leave them behind?"

"No…" Robb had on more than one occasion told her that she should go spend some time with her children, when he felt that she was spending too much time at his bedside. She didn't get the impression he would loathe them so much that he would order her to abandon them. "It's just that… after Gaune' died, Lancel is the Lord of Greenfield. If he were to live at Winterfell, he'll have to give up that claim, won't he?"

His blue eyes seemed to pierce into her. "I have lands and holdfasts that can be awarded to them. They won't have their father's castle, but they'll still be nobles." He sighed. "I'd rather not leave your children as hostages that can be used against me either." She sensed there was guilt in his words. Like he was projecting his grief for his own children onto hers. "Lancel and Kay won't be my first wards either, you know. There was this one boy, Lyman Darry, whose father died against the Lannisters, making him the Lord of Darry at seven years old… he's my ward now, still at Riverrun."

"Oh," Jeyne said. "I didn't know."

"I never told you," he said, as they were lacing his boots. Robb was doing one, while Jeyne did the other. "I wouldn't ask you to give your children up either. I choose you to be my wife, Jeyne. I'd gladly-" he stopped.

In her mind, she guessed the words that would have come next. I'd gladly be a father to them, if you'd like, was her guess. "It would not be unwelcome." She knew from her own experience that losing a child was hard. It seemed unimaginable to her what it would be like to lose four children at once, to have them so cruelly taken from her like that, knowing they were horribly butchered somewhere far far away. If he found that her Lancel and Kayanna helped to fill that hole in his soul that had been left behind, she wouldn't deny him.

He was slow to react to that. "Last night… I… I wanted to dream about them, but…"

She nodded. When she lost her younger son, Arthur, it had been similar. Sleep was one of the few respites that had been availed to her, but even then, she often found herself wishing she could dream of the son she had lost, yet those dreams didn't come.

When they were done with his boots, she grabbed his crown and put it on his head, nestling it amongst his auburn curls.

His crown wasn't a typical crown- being made from a bronze band with black iron swords jutting up from it, with runes engraved into it. He told her that it was meant to resemble the crowns of the old Kings of Winter, before King Aegon's conquest. It suited him well in her opinion.

He favored her with a weak smile. "I… have a crown for you too," he said, glancing over to his chest full of clothes. "You can go get it. The bottom of it, somewhere in the clothes."

"You do?" Jeyne's heart skipped a beat. Their wedding had not been the most well-planned event, surely there had not been time for him to get a crown. "Your grace…"

"Robb," he groaned. "Call me Robb." He seemed like he was in pain still, but that wasn't what was giving him such a hard time. Grief haunts him more than anything else now. A little over a moon's turn prior, Robb and his men had taken the Crag, her family's ancestral seat. In the storming of the castle, he had suffered a wound, not the most severe, an arrow to the shoulder, but she'd been playing the role of nurse. At first, the wound recovered nicely, but then the infection took hold, weakening Robb greatly. Then a fortnight later, he had gotten devastating news, as they learned his best friend, Theon Greyjoy, had betrayed him and taken his family's ancestral seat, Winterfell. His brothers, wife, children, grandmother and others had all been taken captive, which seemed to only make things worse for his condition. Then another letter arrived, just two days earlier. Theon had killed Robb's family, his wife, children, brothers… all of them were gone just like that- leaving him utterly devastated. Jeyne had stayed with him that night, holding him, listening to him cry, encouraging him to tell her stories, and everything else she could think of. Until she had found another way to comfort him, which had set in motion their marriage.

She dug through the clothes, pulling a few of them out, and sifting through the rest, until she finally felt the crown. "Ow," she muttered as she pricked her finger on one of the sharp blades, but when she pulled it out, she wasn't bleeding.

In her hands was a crown just like Robb's, a bronze band with black iron swords spiking up in a ring with runes carved into it. Exactly like his, only differentiated by slightly different markings on the inside. She went back over to the bed, and gave him the crown.

"It's yours," he said.

Jeyne looked at it very carefully. "Mine…" she whispered, but something seemed off about it. She didn't remember hearing anything about a crown being forged, even during the wedding, and the trunk hadn't been disturbed overnight. Only her cousin, Alarra, had come to deliver some of Jeyne's clothes and seemed to have kept their fire going through the night. "You had it this whole time, buried deep in your things…"

Robb looked down, avoiding her gaze. "I…"

"You didn't make it for me," she guessed. "It was made with your crown, a pair, one for you, one for her." Her was the name that Robb and Jeyne had begun using when talking about his previous wife, Queen Myrcella Baratheon. She had already been a sore subject for Robb ever since they had met. He'd been able to go on for hours, telling stories about his children, his siblings, his uncle, his mother and father, grandmother and the people of his household… even Theon Greyjoy, right up until they learned of his betrayal. But his wife Myrcella was the one subject he seemed hesitant to speak on. At first she thought it was because they might not have gotten along, but what little he did say about her always seemed so kind and loving and sweet. He loved her deeply, Jeyne was sure about that. Eventually, she'd come to realize that Robb was full of regret, leaving her behind at Winterfell to fight in a war against her own family just after she had told him she was with child, being unable to return to her, and having to listen to a significant amount of slander that had been slung her way in the wake of a particularly horrible letter being written about her. And perhaps not being able to give her this crown too.

"It was made for her," he finally said, whispering. "I thought about sending some men to take it to her, at Winterfell…" His voice trailed off.

She deduced what he meant to say. "But you wanted to give it to her yourself?"

He nodded slightly. "I wanted to be able to place it on her head in front of my court at Winterfell," he said, sounding now like he might start to cry again.

Now you'll never get the chance, Jeyne thought. She could still see the pain in her eyes. The eyes that he couldn't bring up to her level. He was offering her such a close token to his heart, too close for her to ever accept. "No," she whispered, "no, Robb." She took the crown back and then went over to his chest of things, stuffing it deep down.

"Jeyne…"

Her husband was clearly hurt by her refusal. But she knew it wouldn't have hurt as much as if she made the mistake of accepting it. "You'll give it to her," she promised, "when you return to Winterfell. When you give her the proper burial she deserves, you'll bury it with her bones." She remembered him telling her about the crypt they had underneath the castle, where all the Starks had been buried. "You'll build her a beautiful statue to mark her tomb, and…"

Robb started to cry again. Quiet sobs, that seemed just a bit more restrained than they had been. It was better than the day before when he'd woken up calling out to Myrcella. A few seconds later when he had realized it was her, and not his wife, he had started to cry. She knew his grief would never truly pass, but she felt like he might have been down the road to healing.

When he stopped crying, she took his hand. "How about this? When we get to Riverrun, you have the smith who made you that crown make me one too?" she suggested. "Just like yours, but not hers…"

"You should have one now…" Robb insisted. "You are queen now. My lords need to see that they should treat you as such…" He stood up, relatively effortlessly, with a glimmer in his eye that Jeyne had been very quickly becoming familiar with. When he felt a sense of resolution, he could act on that even in spite of everything else- regardless of the pain or how he felt, and he demonstrated that now as he grabbed a piece of parchment and sat down at their table to write something.

She didn't look at first, but when she finally did, she saw what it was. It was a diagram for a crown, with various specifications on it.

"Your grace…"

Robb finished up what he was doing before he looked up. "Your castle has a smith, doesn't it?"

"Well… yes," Jeyne said. "His name is Ormund… but I don't ever talk to him."

He seemed to be waiting for the ink to dry. "Well… you should give this to him," he said. "They're instructions for a-"

"-Crown," Jeyne finished. It was obvious what they were. And it was clear that he was not going to accept any arguments. But she had questions. "Why don't you give it to the smith yourself? If he has questions… I don't know what any of this means… what am I supposed to say?"

"If he has questions, he can reread the paper again. Everything he needs to know is in there, and if he doesn't have the material, he's welcome to make use of the plunder we've gathered."

"But-" Jeyne stammered out, until she stopped. He wouldn't say it, but he wanted her to try being queen. He must have sensed how unprepared she was to deal with all of his lords and vassals and knew this was necessary for her to prove herself, even if it was rather small.

Once the ink seemed to be dry, he carefully rolled it up and handed it to her.

"I think we've kept them waiting long enough, your grace," she told him with a hushed tone. "We need to get going if it's something important."

Robb seemed a little bit despondent again, as she held out her hand to him. "I'm ready," he muttered.

Outside, the Smalljon was still waiting. "Follow me, your grace," the enormous warrior said. At first, she had been a little bit confused by why the Smalljon was called the Smalljon when he was bigger than the Greatjon- at least until she realized that they were father and son. They had been extremely intimidating at first when the Northerners took the castle, with how loud and booming they were, but as it turned out, the Greatjon was Robb's greatest champion. According to Robb, when he had first called his banners, it was the Greatjon who had given him the greatest scare when all of the lords tried to test him, openly threatening to go home, until his direwolf attacked the giant of a man and ripped off two of his fingers.

Distantly, she could hear the wolf howling, which made her shudder. She still remembered the body of Ser Lanard Barrin, a knight who she'd known all her life. During the battle, the direwolf had ripped his throat out, which had made an awful bloody mess that she nearly cried in front of when she saw.

Robb was leaning on her as they went. It wasn't as bad as before when she'd had to nearly carry him to the privy and back, but she could still tell it made him uncomfortable all the same. He had explained that needed to project strength, not weakness, which was why he had been so ashamed after he'd been forced to hold a war council at his bedside.

The Smalljon led them out of the Seashell's Keep and out towards the main gate. That was part of what had helped make the Crag so strong, was that there was only one main gate, and a clear approach, while the two smaller gates on the side were much more obscured and something that an invading army wouldn't be likely to know about. When Robb's men attacked, they had barely anyone there to defend the castle, which was why they had fallen so easily.

There were so many people gathered around the gate- for a second she feared that there was a battle happening, but the men weren't fighting. No swords were ringing, no orders were being shouted or arrows being fired, and no horns were blowing.

"Make way for the king!" somebody said, near the edge of the crowd, which must have been at least a hundred strong, if not more. "Make way! Make way!"

The crowd did part, making a gap more than wide enough for Robb and Jeyne. Some of the people were servants of the Westerling household, others were Robb's warriors and soldiers. It was a strange crowd, and they all seemed to be fascinated by whatever was going on. A baby was squalling, which was all she could hear, even despite all the quiet chatter and murmuring.

As they got closer, she recognized a few of the people. Robb's great uncle, her brother Raynald, the particularly tall Lucas Blackwood.

When they finally had the path completely cleared, it took both of them a second to realize what was happening. There were… children.

All of the sudden, Robb left her side completely, rushing forward as quickly as he could. "Father!" she heard a little girl's shrill voice call out.

Jeyne lost track of what was happening for a few seconds. Robb started so fast that his crown had fallen off of his head, causing her to bend down to pick it up, but as soon as she had it, she started to rush after Robb. When she caught sight of him again, he was falling to his knees in the cleared area by the gate. Then she saw a blur that must have been the little girl race right up to Robb. By the time she got to him, he was showering the little girl with kisses as she must have leapt into his arms. What is happening? Who is this little girl?

Then she looked around. One of Robb's warrior women, the mother- who was also one of Robb's principal vassals, was holding the squalling babe. And there were two others, both boys, who stood next to each other, both with confused and nervous looks on their faces. Quite absurdly, the younger of the two was clutching a longsword in a scabbard, while the older one had one hand on the younger's shoulder, and was holding his other hand out as though it had been holding the little girl's just seconds before.

"Robb…" she called out, trying to ask if he knew what was happening, but he didn't seem to hear her. Instead, he whispered something to the little girl, and they broke apart. He stood up and walked over to the boys.

"Hey," she heard him whisper to them. "I can take that, Theo… it's alright… do you remember me?" Robb took the sword away from the younger boy, then handed it off to one of his companions; one of the warrior women. As he did so, the little girl decided to jump on Robb's back, and clung on to his shoulders. He didn't seem to mind at all though as he bent down and picked up the two little boys, kissing them and muttering some things that Jeyne couldn't hear.

She started paying a little more attention to the voices in the crowd. "A-aren't they… d-dead?" one of the Northerners asked?

"Aye," answered someone else, who also had a northern accent, "Greyjoy…"

"That was the Stranger hisself," another voice said- this one belonging to someone from the Westerling household.

"Who are…" Jeyne started to ask, but she sensed she already knew the answer. Four of them. The oldest a girl, and two boys, and then a little baby. Robb's children… "What happened?" she asked instead, turning towards one of Robb's companions whose name she didn't remember.

The companion didn't hear her though. Instead, it was one of her family's guards who replied. "I swear it were the Stranger in the flesh…" he explained, "wore a grey cloak, and hood, shrouded his face. Came right up the road… we asked him to stop, were gonna shoot him, but… we saw the children. Told us to open our gates… we didn't, not till Ser Blackfish came. He ordered us to open them, and talked to the Stranger. He said… it were a wedding gift for his grace, the king…"

"An extraordinary wedding gift," she muttered. Returning his children back from the dead as a wedding gift… am I still dreaming?

Robb's strength seemed to give out on him rather quickly. He slowly sank to the ground, unable to stand while holding the three children, until he was back on his knees again. For all of his talk about not wanting to show weakness, all of the sudden, he seemed to be showing a great deal of it, as she heard a muffled sob from him. She could not blame him for it either.

They should go, Jeyne thought to herself as she looked over the crowd. "Disperse," she said, with a rather timid voice.

Nobody listened.

The crowd was growing larger. She could see more people trickling in, joining around the edges. Robb needs me to be a queen.

"Disperse!" she ordered again, finding her voice.

Her voice traveled far enough to be heard this time. And the crowd obeyed. They started to peel off near the back. Slowly but surely, they began to disappear, going back to their usual daily tasks, muttering about the oddity that had occurred at the gate. Very quickly, the company that they were in near the gate consisted of Robb, Jeyne, the children, her brother, the four warrior women with the bear sigil, the enormous Smalljon, towering Blackwood boy, the Blackfish and a young man with the green thistles as his sigil.

It was Robb's uncle who finally took action. "Your grace," he said, tapping the king's shoulder. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere." The usage of the word perhaps was only meant as courtesy. They needed to take this somewhere else. But Robb almost didn't seem to hear at all. He thinks he's dreaming.

She crouched down next to him. "You're not dreaming," she whispered. Not unless I'm dreaming too. Jeyne felt confident that she wasn't though. She couldn't have created a dream like this- not in a thousand years.

Then she put a hand on the shoulder of Robb's eldest. "What's your name, princess?" she asked, even though she probably would have been able to remember it if she tried.

"Melantha!" the girl declared, proudly. She had bright red hair, and had a pretty necklace with an emerald pendant on it but her most beautiful trait was her eyes, which looked just like her father's. Hearing the girl's name caused Jeyne to remember some of Robb's stories, and he remembered him telling her about his eldest being quite the little troublemaker. There certainly was a little glimmer of mischief in the girl's eyes and expression- willfulness even, that seemed befitting of a five year old like her. Jeyne also recalled her husband having mentioned something about how the girl was not his daughter with Princess Myrcella, but another woman, yet also not a bastard. Mother always told me she worried that Melantha would grow into a tomboy like my sister, Arya, but I honestly have never seen the resemblance. Melantha likes to be naughty for her own sake.

"Melantha," Jeyne repeated, smiling, "my name is Jeyne. Do you want to tell me where your mother is?"

"Mama?" the girl said. "I… it was dark and cold…"

Jeyne frowned. "You were somewhere dark and cold?"

Melantha didn't answer.

"Was mama there?"

The girl nodded slightly, but again didn't say anything.

"You came here with a man, didn't you? Do you know who?"

No answer.

Jeyne looked over at her brother, Raynald, and handed him both Robb's crown as well as his design for her crown. Cold and dark… is that what death is? Is that where they went? She figured the girl was either scared or didn't remember all of the other details.

"Do you like to be called Meli?" she wondered. "Could I call you that?"

The girl made a face.

Apparently not. "Well alright… do you want to get off your father at least?"

Melantha made a different face, just as unsavory as the one before, but she did what Jeyne asked. She turned her gaze away from the girl and towards her father as he stood up. He mussed the hair of both boys, then looked over at the squalling babe. The woman who was holding her stepped forward and handed the babe off to Robb. Whilst he studied the baby, Melantha took her brother's hands, giving Jeyne the time to observe them.

She knew Eddard's name right away, since he was named after Robb's father. He was the older of the two boys, about three if she remembered right, and seemed the most like his father out of the three older children. His hair was auburn, just a shade darker than Robb's, and their faces were very similar too. Alarmingly, half of his face was covered by a bandage, and a fairly dirty one at that. The two most obvious differences between father and son were the eyes and hair though, as Eddard's one visible eye was dark grey, and there was a golden streak in his hair, just as Robb said.

Then there was Theo, the younger boy- whose name she remembered because he had been named after Theon Greyjoy. For a second, Jeyne was unsure how he could be Robb's child, since the boy seemed every bit a Lannister. At least until she remembered who his mother was. His blond hair looked like it had gold from the sun spun into it, and his skin was just a bit fairer than that of his siblings too. Jeyne was certain that the boy would be the prettiest of his siblings owing to how purely Lannister he seemed. The only thing it seemed he had gotten from Robb was his eyes, which matched his father and older sister's. He had to have been somewhere between two and three, she judged, and it seemed he was quite scared, only trusting his older brother and sister.

"Melantha," Robb called out. The babe had stopped crying now, and he was pressing it tightly to him. "Melantha, this is your sister, isn't it? Joanna, yes?"

Her older sister nodded. "Joanna," she agreed. Jeyne guessed that the little one had to be a couple of months old, maybe a little bit more than that.

"Joanna," Robb whispered. Then he brought the baby just a little higher and put a kiss on the girl's forehead. Jeyne could see there was a tear in his eyes as he did. The baby girl was wrapped up in swaddling clothes, but she could see a little tuft of auburn hair peeking out. Somehow, she felt confident the girl would grow up to be just as pretty as her big sister- maybe even moreso.

"These are your children, your grace?" Ser Brynden Tully asked, a little bit bewildered. For as close as the legendary Blackfish seemed to be with Robb, she had to remind herself that their relationship was not a particularly extensive one. Before the war began, he had been in service of Robb's aunt, Lady Lysa Arryn, and was the Knight of the Bloody Gate, guarding the entrance to the Vale.

The King nodded. From the looks of it, it seemed he wanted to just cuddle up with the little ones right there. "Melantha, Eddard, Theo and Joanna." By now, the crowd that had previously gathered was completely gone, distantly Jeyne could see people who were trying to catch glimpses of what was going on.

The Lady of the Bears spoke up. "We're going to need to find a wet nurse for the little one."

Robb's great uncle concurred. "Is there anyone in the castle…" he turned towards Jeyne. "Do you know of anyone?"

"No," Jeyne said, shaking her head. "The cook's wife, Palla, gave birth a few months ago, but she and the babe died." Jeyne had been fond of Palla, who had sometimes ridden out of the castle with her. But she was gone now, like Ser Lanard and all the others who'd gone off to war and been killed in battle. She felt a little bit ashamed personally, since she had been nursing Arthur still when he had perished, and likely would have been doing so now, if he had lived.

Ser Blackfish nodded. "I'll have my men search for one, immediately then."

In response, the Bear Lady coughed. "You'd best hurry. The girl won't last long otherwise…"

The legendary knight handed the sword that Theo had been carrying off to the young man with the green thistles on his jerkin, then started to walk away. "Ah…" Jeyne started to say, raising a hand before she lost the courage.

Then all eyes turned towards her. "Yes, your grace?" the old knight said.

"Oh… be gentle," Jeyne said. "Don't hurt her."

"The wet nurse?" asked the Blackfish.

She nodded. "And her family too."

"As you say, my queen," he said with a bow. "If we cannot find a woman quickly…"

Robb nodded. "We'll think of something."

Ser Brynden Tully set off in haste. He disappeared further into the castle, presumably looking for some men, which he was going to find in the Great Hall.

Her husband was smiling at Joanna as he left. "Look at you," he said in a hushed voice, "I've known you for less than an hour and already have to order the strangest scouting mission of the war." He chuckled, then looked up to Jeyne with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jeyne."

Sorry? What are you sorry for?

She ignored it and looked between the children. For now, he decided it would be good to keep her children away from Robb's, let them have some time before they were introduced. "Eddard… he's named after your father. Theo, he's named after Theon Greyjoy. Melantha…" Jeyne was stumped.

"She's named after a distant grandmother of mine," Robb said.

"And Joanna…" her voice trailed off again. The only Joanna that Jeyne could think of was Joanna Lannister, the Lady of Casterly Rock. And Johanna Westerling, who had been the Lady of Casterly Rock during the Dance of the Dragons.

Robb nodded. "We'll talk about them tonight," he suggested.

The oldest of the Bear Sisters spoke up. "Your grace, we should get the children inside… get them a bath, some new clothes…"

"We can't stay out here for long," said Lucas Blackwood.

Jeyne decided it was her turn to speak up. She bent down towards the three older children. "Are you hungry? I can have some food brought." Her mother had always made Jeyne eat in the Great Hall or kitchens, but now that Jeyne was the queen, she got to set her own rules.

All three of the older children nodded, and Melantha patted her tummy. They shouldn't be this thin, Jeyne thought to herself.

"I'll talk to the steward about accommodations too," she told her husband. She already had needed to speak to them about the possibility of moving Lancel and Kayanna's bedchambers anyway.

"Come, your grace, let's go back to your bedchambers," the bear mother said. "Away from here."

Robb had a regretful look on his face. "I can't," she heard him whisper back. "I've neglected my duty for too long. A month… I have to…"

Jeyne couldn't deny the reality. Robb hadn't been doing his duty as king for over a moon's turn now as he recovered from the wound he had taken while they stormed the castle. In fact, he still was not fully healed yet, though now he seemed healthy enough to be walking around on his own. A month might not have meant much if there wasn't a war going on, where Robb's army had not done anything as he was not well enough to give orders. Each day there were new reports about the sudden and surprising invasion of the North by the Greyjoys, with the worst news having come two days past. Then there was the Freys deciding to abandon Robb's cause, which had created an even greater mess for him to deal with now that he was just beginning to return.

"Well you're certainly not going back to being a king today," the Bear Lady said. "Perhaps tomorrow as well."

She felt him look towards her, as though he was trying to find someone who might side with him. "You must," she told him. Just two nights before, he had been inconsolable over their deaths. For whatever reason, only the children had been returned, but she knew they were the ones he had grieved the hardest for, even more than his wife. Jeyne had comforted him as her mother suggested, but even then, Robb had cried himself to sleep. He'd said something about failing Elinor, and mentioned the fact that he never would get to meet the littlest one, Joanna. "Keep grieving if you won't."

Robb was hurt, lost and confused, but with just a glance, she forced him to direct his gaze back towards the children, which helped brighten his face. "You little grumpkins," he muttered. "Come on…" He knows what to do, Jeyne thought, with a smile. He might struggle with it, but he knows what he wants. It was like it had been for her when she'd occasionally been forced to part with her own children for a brief time, how all she wanted when they came back was to be with them. Where he went, the others followed, slowly making their way over to the Seashell's Keep in the center of the castle. Everyone except for Jeyne and her big brother Raynald, that was.

"Those are really…" her brother began to say, completely stunned.

"They are," Jeyne said, firmly. "Robb's little ones, Princess Melantha, Prince Eddard, Prince Theo and Princess Joanna, who his lords are always toasting to the health of."

Her brother was still dumbfounded. "They were murdered," he insisted. "We got the letter two days ago. If the letter was a lie… how are they here?"

"The gods only know, brother," she muttered. Raynald was a knight, and heir to the Crag. He'd gotten his spurs just a few months after his eighteenth nameday, and now he was almost twenty-four, almost twenty-five. It had been a bit shocking to find out that father intended to leave Raynald behind at the Crag, though she suspected it was so that he wouldn't have to leave his wife, Cerenna, or their daughter, Sylvia. Cerenna was a Lannister, the daughter of one of Lord Tywin Lannister's good-brothers. Though Lord Tywin had rebuffed previous attempts that their father had made to try and intermarry their two families, he did not object to the love-based proposal that Raynald had made. In the battles their family had fought against Robb, and Cerenna's own father dying in battle against the Starks at the Battle of Oxcross, he had pledged his sword to Robb's cause, and Robb had responded in turn by granting him the honor to serve as his royal standard bearer. It seemed fitting that he was the one she had given Robb's crown to as a result of that. "I can take the paper back."

He handed it to her. "I'm part of the king's company… I should be guarding him…"

Or me, Jeyne thought to herself. Admittedly, she didn't want him to be with her for the moment though. "Yes, go guard him from his own mischievous children," she agreed. "May the Father above judge you justly if his grace should be tickled to death."

Raynald frowned. "What?"

She sighed. "Robb needed to actually enjoy himself. At least until I can get back."

"Well where are you going?"

"My own business," she said, clutching the diagram Robb had made her. "I have to do this first."

"You should be quick," her brother said, "I'm sure his grace needs you."

Jeyne thought about that for a moment, but she wasn't entirely sure that was true. She had comforted him, yes, but it was the ones who he had been grieving for that he really needed. Ever since she had gotten to know him, laying wounded in a sick bed as she was tending to him, he had seemed so horribly miserable and sad, and back then it was only his father who he believed dead. It seemed to her that being away from the rest of his family had been taking a toll on him as well.

"Something magical is afoot," Raynald declared. "It must be."

Jeyne could agree with that. So much simply didn't make sense, simply didn't seem to have any logical explanation besides magic. Why wouldn't Queen Myrcella come too? How has Joanna gone this far without any way to nurse? Throughout her life, Jeyne had always heard so many different things about magic. Supposedly, her mother's mother's mother was a woods witch capable of predicting people's fortunes- at least according to rumor, though both Jeyne's mother, Lady Sybell Spicer, and her father, Lord Gawen Westerling, vehemently denied these claims. There were all the stories of ghosts haunting Castamere and Tarbeck Hall too, neither of which were very far from her home, the Crag. She rode by those places often, and while there always was something unsettling about them, she never encountered any ghosts. And there had been the story of how Robb Stark and his army were apparently a pack of wargs or skinchangers, who would transform into wolves when they fought in battles, but instead it turned out that Robb just had a pet direwolf- an animal long thought extinct. After so much uncertainty, she was now certain for the first time in her life that she had seen true magic.

It was Robb's previous wife that she found herself thinking of as she made her way to the Great Hall. She had only met Princess Myrcella Baratheon once, when they were both girls, the oldest of the four royal children. Jeyne had been around five years older, by her best guess. She remembered how much the royal children had all taken after their mother, the queen, with seemingly none of the king in them either. The king's own brother had alleged that the royal children had in fact been bastards based on that lack of resemblance, which she felt reminded of by Robb's children. They seemed to be a mixture of both their mother and their father, rather than just one or the other.

When she got to the Great Hall, it was packed. That had been a fact of life for the Crag ever since Robb had taken the castle, with the host of thousands of men more than making up for the household her father had taken with him as he rode off to war. The sudden departure of the Freys and some of Robb's forces being dispatched for other missions had thinned things out just a little bit- but not by much.

Her uncle, Ser Rolph Spicer, was the first to find her. "Jeyne!" he said, beaming as he came over towards her. "Or should I say your grace?"

She didn't answer. Jeyne would be good, she thought, but her mother would never approve of that. "A queen's duty- first and foremost, is protocol, Jeyne," her mother had explained when she told her mother that Robb was going to marry her. "Respectability is paramount, as it is for any lady, be they the highest of queens or the wife of some landed knight. Secondarily is beauty, which you shouldn't have any trouble with. The third is children. You must give Stark an heir, particularly since his previous ones are with the gods now. His grace is deep in grief, you say, so give him something to lift him out of it. Give him your love and give him a son to lift his spirits."

"Where did you lose your king?" her uncle asked. "I thought that he would have come to breakfast with you."

"Have you not heard yet?" Jeyne wondered. It was hard to discern what each conversation was going on about, but she figured most of them were about the sudden appearance of Robb's children, which there had been plenty of witnesses to. He'll find out soon enough, she decided. "Could you do me a favor, uncle?"

"Of course," he said, smiling. "What do you require of me?"

Her uncle was a knight, and the castellan while her father was gone. A bit high ranking for an errand boy, but of a higher rank than her still. "I need food delivered to our bedchamber. A wide platter of options would be appreciated, and palatable for children, if you could." She figured only Robb would have a sense for what his children liked to eat, and even then, she was not certain. "Any kind of milk would be appreciated too. Cow's milk, goat's milk… it doesn't matter." She silently counted how many rooms they would need. A nursery for Joanna… Kayanna and Melantha could be bedmates. Robb said that Eddard and Theo shared a room at Winterfell too. "I need the next four rooms cleared out next to mine. A cradle and a crib would be both wonderful as well, and some children's clothes."

"How soon?" Ser Rolph said, with his face darkening a bit.

Jeyne took a moment to figure out an answer. "Ah… by tomorrow night at least?" she finally settled on. "Robb might just want the bedchamber for himself and his children tonight, and I can just sleep with Kay and Lancel… I don't want to overwhelm the children just yet with introductions- but by tomorrow… we should be doing some."

"The rumors are true?"

"They are indeed," she said, nodding. "Could you handle that for me, uncle?"

"I can," he started to say.

She didn't wait for him to ask for anything in return. Instead, she flashed a pretty smile. "Thank you, uncle."

As she stepped away from Uncle Rolph, she spotted her mother on the dias, staring at her. She wants a word with me, Jeyne thought to herself, feeling a tinge of nervousness creep in. Next to mother, she saw that her younger siblings, Eleyna and Rollam, were sitting on the left, and on the right was Cerenna feeding Sylvia who was sitting in her lap, along with her handmaiden and cousin, Alarra Spicer. And two empty chairs…

"Mother!" Kayanna said, excitedly, from half the distance between Jeyne and the high table. Before anyone could stop them, Jeyne felt the arms of Lancel and Kayanna around her.

"I missed you too," she groaned as they squeezed her tightly. It hadn't actually been a particularly long time since she'd last seen them, though ever since the castle had been stormed, she had not been able to pay her two children as much time or attention as they needed. If I'm going to force Robb to give up his duties to spend time with his children, I should do the same. Luckily, she didn't have a whole lot that she needed to do.

In terms of appearance, Lancel was every bit his father's son. He had the exotic green hair of the Greenfields, deep sea-green eyes, high cheekbones and a very skinny frame. Kay on the other hand, took much more after her mother, possessing Jeyne's chestnut brown hair, darker than usual skin, doey-brown eyes, and more. They were what had helped her get out of bed in the morning after they heard that father was captured by the Starks, and how she'd been able to move past her grief for their younger brother. When Robb would tell her stories about his children, she couldn't help but think of her own stories that she could tell him about her own, how throughout all of it they were just perfect, no matter what. If anything, she felt relieved by the prospect that she would be allowed to keep her children with her, since she couldn't imagine what her life would be like if she left them behind.

"You two look wonderful this morning," she said, mussing Lancel's green hair. Then she gave them both kisses. "Did you already eat this morning?"

They both nodded asynchronously.

"Can I be a princess now?" asked Kayanna, with a pleading voice.

Jeyne sighed. Explaining to Lancel and Kayanna that she was going to be marrying the King and becoming the Queen had been difficult on its own, but explaining the fact that it wouldn't make them prince and princess… that had been basically impossible. "I'm afraid not, sweetling. You'll always be my little kapre," she said, wishing that she didn't have to break Kay's heart in the process. She thought back to not too long before, when Robb had called his little ones grumpkins. It was a little amusing to think that her husband had taken to giving his children a monster as their nickname.

Kay took it about as well as could be expected. She'll get over it one day, Jeyne promised herself, though for the time being, Kay loved fairy tales and stories of princes and princesses. Luckily, all Lancel wanted to be was the greatest knight of them all, and that at least seemed to be more attainable in Jeyne's eyes. In the North, knights were less common, according to Robb, which would open opportunities for Lancel as a high knight then.

When she looked over at the dias, she saw that her mother was displeased by the entire show. Her mother had been the first to say she needed to distance herself from her children, difficult as it might be, since they would only remind Robb's bannermen why they were so opposed to her marrying Robb to begin with. Jeyne didn't pay much attention to it though.

She brought the children along to go be with the rest of her family. Only Sylvia and Cerenna were still eating at this point it seemed, while the rest were remaining for the sake of appearances. "You look lovely, this morning, your grace," her mother said, smiling at her. "Is his grace doing better today?"

Rollam nodded, eagerly. "How is the King, Jeyne?"

Mother glared at the boy, expressing her displeasure with him for not adhering to courtesy, but Jeyne didn't mind. The night before, Robb had agreed to take on Rollam as a squire, in light of him losing Olyvar Frey, which had excited her little brother immensely.

"Robb is doing… better," Jeyne answered, unsure how else to put it. He seemed to be a little bit better this morning than he had been yesterday, and now that he had gotten his children back… Despite still having much to grieve, he had them at least.

"Children," Lady Sybell Spicer said, as she always did when she was talking to Jeyne's little ones, "could you stay with Auntie Eleyna for a little bit, please? I need to have a word with your mother." She took a goblet from the table, and gave Jeyne no choice but to follow into the hallway hidden behind the dias.

"Mother…" Jeyne said, once the door was closed behind them, dulling the chorus outside. Why are we speaking here like this? she was going to ask, except her mother interrupted.

"Did you do your duty last night?" said her mother.

"Well… yes," Jeyne replied. "Robb's been struggling with… excitement still." He had told her that she thought she was very pretty, but that he was not overly eager.

"Yes, yes," her mother said, waving a hand, "once his wound has healed, that shouldn't be much of a problem. The grief will subside in time too." Then she offered the goblet she had taken from the table.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A fertility potion, naturally," her mother said, smiling. "I'll give you one every morning."

"A fertility potion," Jeyne repeated. "You didn't give me one when I was married to Guane."

"You were not here for me to give you one, Jeyne, or did you forget? You were still a little too young when you married too, but your father insisted, and you had no trouble giving Guane a son right away." Her mother stopped momentarily, refocusing on the actual topic at hand. "

Her mother nodded. "He needs an heir from you, Jeyne. A child to secure his bloodline and your place as his queen." She pushed the cup up to her mouth. "Drink."

Jeyne didn't resist, but she nearly spit it all out. "Oh, that tastes awful," she said after she had swallowed it.

"It wasn't supposed to taste good," her mother replied. "Every morning, Jeyne, until you are with child. Once you are… we'll discuss the next steps."

"Mother… why didn't you do this when I was with Guane?" she asked, a bit confused. Not that she'd had much trouble in her first marriage with children; she had her first child within a year of marrying and delivered three children total, two of which still lived, along with a miscarriage between Lancel and Kayanna.

"You may both be fertile, but… it would pay to make assurances. You need to get with child by him, Jeyne, for the sake of both of our family's. He needs an heir, a son, and our family needs to have its place in his court secured," Jeyne's mother explained.

"Robb's children are here," she suddenly said. "They came back; the two princes and two princesses. Melantha, Eddard, Theo and Joanna, all four of them."

Mother's face was suddenly overtaken by shock. "Nonsense, Jeyne, where did you…" her voice trailed out as it seemed that she simply didn't know what to say.

"I saw them," she replied. "We don't know how they got here, but… everyone is talking about it. They're Robb's children. He recognized them."

"What you say is absurd… they were many leagues away. They were killed-"

Jeyne shook her head. "Robb knows them. He recognized them. They just… showed up here."

Lady Sybell considered it for a moment, then finally nodded. "This changes nothing, Jeyne. Whether those are truly the Young Wolf's children, or not, you must give him a son. His lords don't approve of you, they see you as the widow and daughter of enemies, a woman of lesser value on the basis of your prior marriage. They will stop at nothing to undermine you, to try and convince your husband to set you aside and take another wife. His children returning will only make that worse. Only you giving him a prince of your own will change this."

She felt scared by her mother's words. "I'll be a good queen for him, loyal and…"

The older woman smiled. "I've no doubt about that, Jeyne. But if what you say is true, your position is even less secure than before. You must give him a child, one that will secure your place."

Jeyne took a deep breath. A little brother for Lancel and Kay. And for Melantha, Eddard, Theo and Joanna too. She did like the thought, even if for different reasons than her mother. "Robb said he would let me keep my children, that I could bring them to Winterfell, and raise them in his court."

"Yes…" Sybell Westerling said, grudgingly. "Kay has already been asking if the Young Wolf is her new father." She had a gloomy look on her face. "You must reign them in, Jeyne. They might not bear the title of prince or princess, but they are the children of a queen now. It is thin ice the three of you are walking upon now, one word that any of you say that they don't like… it could be devastating for your future."

"Robb won't be like that," she argued. During the wedding feast the night before when Kay was starting to get tired he had taken her to bed, despite how weak he was himself. When Lancel had come to Jeyne, proud of how he had danced with Eleyna, while she had smiled, Robb had praised the boy's grace. He seemed more fatherly to them than Guane ever was, who only ever seemed to regard their children as being trophies to display. "I'll make sure they're close with Robb's children too. They'll all be like siblings to each other, and… they'll have siblings that they'll share with each other too- true siblings."

"That is good to hear, Jeyne," her mother said. "But it is not solely Robb that you and your children must please. It is men like the Smalljon, the Blackfish, and Rickard Karstark. And it will only be getting more difficult when the time comes for us to leave this place. At Winterfell… it will be a constant battle for you."

"Then what am I to do?" Jeyne asked. "How do I make it so?"

Her mother met her eyes. "Unless you want to change who you are, Jeyne… you need to prove yourself to them. It might be hard to truly prove your loyalty to Robb now, yes." She looked down, then suddenly poked Jeyne's belly. "That will be a first step. Uniting our houses first."

Unite our houses, and the rest will come… She nodded. "Thank you mother."

When they walked back, her children were waiting right by the door. Only, it was her mother who went first, causing the sudden hug-trap they tried to spring upon their mother ending up being used on their grandmother. "I hope you two have finished your breakfast," the Lady of the Crag said, "you'll be having a long day with me."

"No," Jeyne said, interjecting. "I'll take them." I owe them the devotion I forced Robb to give to his. The potion had also sapped her of her appetite for now, so they'd all get a chance to eat again before long. She looked down at her children. "I just need a quick word with Uncle and Auntie, alright?"

"Jeyne," her two younger siblings greeted in unison as she got closer. They sounded a little excited to see her.

"Come here," she said, inviting them into a huddle with her. She'd always gotten along well with her little siblings, despite their age difference. Eleyna was nearly ten years younger than her, a young maid of fourteen, and recently flowered, while Rollam was just ten years old. Robb had offered them places in his court the night before, promising to find Eleyna a suitable woman to be a lady-in-waiting to. "I have a strange request," she began once they were huddled up.

Eleyna frowned. "And we have to do it because you're the Queen now?"

"Yes," she said, feeling a certain amount of satisfaction in that one word. "I need you two to get as many toys as you can… they can be your old ones, maybe things you think would look like fun… anything really, so long as they aren't from Sylvia or my own children. Just don't steal."

They both frowned. "You want toys?" Rollam said.

"Mhm," she said, nodding.

Eleyna made a face. "Are they for Lancel and Kay?"

"No…" Jeyne responded, defensively, though she did realize this wasn't the first time in a while that she would have to plunder the castle of toys. She hadn't brought many with when she came to the Crag with her children either. "But I need you to bring them to my room. The one I'm staying with Robb at."

"Why then?" asked Eleyna.

"You'll find out eventually," Jeyne said, not wanting to waste time explaining, "just trust me on this, please." While they set off on the quest she'd given them, she knew that they would probably be imagining that now she was a queen, she'd decided to use her power to get herself as many dolls and trinkets as she could. It didn't bother her though. As she turned around, she was caught slightly off-guard by a new figure beside her. "Oh, Cerenna!" she exclaimed.

"Your grace," she said, with cold courtesy. For as much as Cerenna loved Raynald, it seemed like their relationship had grown icier since Robb had taken the castle. She had begged Raynald to go with her and Sylvia to Casterly Rock in light of her father's death, and things had only gotten worse as the man who had killed her father, Lord Rickard Karstark, was among Robb's bannermen who had taken up living in their castle. Even with the Lord of Karhold gone, Cerenna often stayed away from any functions, retreating deep within the castle with Sylvia until Raynald would insist on them coming out, and Jeyne's wedding had been no exception either. When she spoke, there was no warmth in her tone. "I wanted to give my… congratulations."

Jeyne hoped that in time, she would be able to make amends with her good-sister, but for now, it seemed the wounds were too recent. "Thank you, Cerenna," she said.

"Have you seen Raynald?" Cerenna wondered. "I was hoping to…" it seemed like she had decided against telling Jeyne what she wanted to see Raynald for.

"Last I saw, he told me he was taking up guard of Robb's chambers," she recalled. "Defending him from tickles I guess."

"What?" Cerenna said, suddenly stupefied, "tickles?"

"Tickles," she agreed, trying not to chuckle. "I'll bet he has time for you. Just go see him."

"Thanks." The future Lady of the Crag did not smile before she walked away.

Jeyne let out a sigh after that. She wished that her marriage didn't have to be so divisive within her family. Her mother had at least one younger brother who was still fighting with Lord Tywin's army in the east, and Cerenna seemed even more resentful now than before. Adding to that the fact that her father was a captive in Robb's dungeons only made it worse. Everyone in the castle knew someone who had died against Robb's men, whether it was in the battles that had taken place in the Riverlands, the Battle of Oxcross, or when Robb had taken the castle, including herself.

But she repressed those thoughts as she turned her attention back towards her children, and the one task Robb had wanted her to do. "Lancel, Kay!" she called out, after finding Robb's diagram was still on her person.

"Can we play?" Kayanna asked, when they were at her side. "I want to play."

"Soon," Jeyne allowed. "I have a job to do first though, children. And you're coming with me."

"If I were a queen, I'd have someone else do it," Lancel said. "Why can't you just make someone else do the job?"

"Just because I can have someone else do something, doesn't mean I should," Jeyne explained to him. "One day, when you're the Lord of Greenfield, and ruling your wide lands, there will be things you need to do."

"But I don't want to be a lord," Lancel protested, "I want to be a knight."

She kissed him, as they were now starting to walk out of the Great Hall. "You can be both, Lancel, and I know you'll be the very best at both."

"What are we doing?" Kayanna asked a little bit later when they were outside.

"I'm going to visit the armorer, and you're coming with me," she replied. "I need to talk to you two about some things."

When they arrived at the smithy, there was already a line of three men. Two of them were northerners, and neither one of them seemed to recognize her, but the third was Ser Ellard Hill, a bastard cousin of hers. "My queen," he said, taking a knee in front of her, which caused the other two men to do the same.

She gave a soft giggle, while the children thankfully just kept holding her hands. "Oh, please rise, ser. I just need to see the smith."

"Decided to join the king's army?" Ser Ellard said. "Here for a suit of mail and a shortsword?" He turned to Lancel. "Is it for him?"

"No, no," Jeyne said, blushing. "I'm here for something else."

"Well go ahead, your grace," one of the northerners said. "I'd hate to be the one to keep the queen waiting."

She nodded. "I'll wait until he's finished with this one. I don't want to be rude." Though I'd also prefer a quiet word… "If I could just have some time with my children though, enough for a word with them… that would be marvelous, sers."

Ser Ellard and the two northerners bowed their heads. "As you wish, your grace."

While they retreated out of earshot, Jeyne took a deep breath. "Sweetlings… something big has happened." Luckily, she had already spoken to Lancel and Kay before on the idea of death, even if they still didn't fully understand it yet. The war had already forced her to explain to them that their father wouldn't be coming home.

"Is it about father?" Kay asked.

"He's not our father," Lancel said to his sister. "He's the King."

Jeyne kept her gaze fixed on her daughter's deep brown eyes, and her son's sea-green eyes. "You two heard that the King had children, didn't you?"

Lancel frowned. "They were killed… Gella told me."

She had best learn to not be such a gossip. Gella was the thirteen year old daughter of one of the cooks, who was always telling stories to Lancel and Kayanna. "We thought they were killed," she agreed, "except… they weren't. We still don't know how it happened, but… they arrived here this morning, all four of them, alive and well."

"Do you know them, mother?" Lancel asked.

"I saw them, a little. The King told me a few stories about them too, his little miscreants who would be princes and princesses when he got back home." She went down to one knee as she continued to explain, "There's four of them: Melantha, Eddard, Theo and Joanna. Melantha, the older girl, she's a little bit older than you, Kay. Eddard and Theo are younger, and Joanna… she's just a baby."

"Are they… our sisters?" Kayanna wondered.

"Eddard and Theo are boys, silly," she stifled a laugh. "What they are right now, is your step-siblings. Which means you two have different mothers and fathers than them, but since the King and I are married, you're both part of the same family. That's also why the King is your step-father now." She touched Kayanna's cheek. "Maybe in time, you and they will get close enough that you see each other as true brothers and sisters."

Lancel had a curious look too. "Are they… princes and princesses?"

She nodded in agreement, then explained, "Eddard and Theo, the middle two, they're princes. Eddard is the Crown Prince actually, which means he'll one day be the King too. Melantha and Joanna are the princesses."

"Can I be… a princess too?" Kayanna asked, using her big doe eyes to plead in a way that Jeyne always found it hard to refuse. But it wasn't her decision to make, just like when they were getting breakfast..

"You won't be a true princess, Kay. But you know what?" She put her arms around them, then suddenly jerked upwards, lifting the two children with her. "You've always been my prince and princess," she promised, before showering them in a flurry of kisses. They were getting heavier, and Jeyne wasn't sure she'd be able to lift them both at the same time much longer. But for now at least, she still could.

Jeyne sat down with her children outside the armory after that, and sent Lancel to go find and bring back the others who had stepped away. As they waited, she found herself getting lost in the thought of heraldry, and what her own coat of arms would be. Lancel and Kayanna would always be Greenfields of course, so she supposed a green field was necessary. The best she could come up with besides that was a grey direwolf retrieving a seashell, or perhaps the direwolf on top of the seashell, as ridiculous as the thought sounded. Whatever her sigil ended up being, she was certain it would be better than a pepper jar like her mother's family used on their banners.

Still, whatever heraldry she came up with for herself and whatever children she had with Robb, she wasn't so sure that it would be better than what Robb's children might be able to have. They were direwolves and stags, maybe trouts or lions if they wanted too, with nearly limitless options for how to put them all together.

All the thinking of banners made her think of the biggest thing that had been giving her anxiety recently. As a girl, she'd grown up primarily learning all the heraldry of the houses of the West, like Brax, Crakehall, Greenfield, Hamell, Payne and many more. When she closed her eyes, she could still see Maester Aron pointing at various drawings of heraldry or marked castles on the map and asking her what house they belonged to. But when Robb had taken the castle, he'd brought with him the banners of the North and Riverlands, which she was not too familiar with. In spite of how foreign they were to her, she was to be their queen. Even with her new found status as queen, she still felt like a prisoner, partly because of this.

"Brr," she heard Lancel say, shuddering as he did so. Kayanna had already nestled up close, because of how cold it was, but Lancel had waited until he was shivering.

"You need to start wearing cloaks now. And warms ones at that," she told him, as she pulled him close. "Do you know what the Stark words are?"

Lancel shook his head.

"Winter is coming," she told him. "You've lived in the summer for all your lives, but the winter is going to be upon us. And it's not going to be any warmer when we're living up at Winterfell either." Jeyne had lived through winter before, though she'd been much younger then, and it was nowhere near as bad as what Robb had described in the North. Lancel and Kayanna had been born in the Long Summer though, and were only now getting their first taste of autumn.

"Will we ever go home?" asked Lancel, as he pushed his green hair out of his face.

This is home, she almost told him. The truth was that it was only her home though, not theirs. "I… don't know if Greenfield will ever be home again," she said, honestly. "We wouldn't be able to see each other if you went back to Greenfield. You'd live there, and I'd be with the King." She remembered what Robb had told her. "It's okay though, Lancel. We'll have a new home. Maybe you won't get to be the Lord of Greenfield, but… you'll get an even bigger castle, how about that?"

The boy didn't say anything, and it must have been half an hour since they first arrived when Ormund was finally finished attending to the man in his forge. After asking Ser Ellard to watch her children, she took a deep breath, then stepped inside.

To her surprise, there were four people working in the forge. There was Master Ormund of course, who ran the smithy, and his wife and assistant, Janelle, but the other two seemed to be northerners, both young men who either must have possessed experience as smiths or were training to be.

"Master Ormund," Jeyne said, as she walked in. The heat from the forge was enough to warm her up for now.

"M'lady," the blacksmith said, "err… apologies… your grace."

"No need to apologize," she said, giving a curt smile. She handed over the diagram to him. "I have a project of great importance, master. One that will require exceptional care."

"Aye…" the man said, unfolding it. "A crown?"

Jeyne nodded. "Robb said that if you needed materials, you are free to use the loot that his men have taken."

Ormund nodded. "Ah, this will take several days, your grace, maybe even a week…"

"And I don't have much of a rush," she confessed. "I'll wait for as long as it takes. But I know you'll do a splendid job with it."

Janelle walked over to her. "Oh, congratulations on the marriage, your grace," she said, smiling. "I know your lord father would be proud."

Jeyne smiled slightly. "Thank you, Janelle," she said. She hadn't forgotten the past though. Before Robb had taken the castle, the household frequently cursed when talking about the Young Wolf, and spit on his name, Janelle among them. "I should be going though, I wouldn't want you to keep the others waiting."

At that, she left. For a moment, she was about to head back to the Seashell's Keep, which was where Robb and the children were going to be. She took her children's hands, and started in that direction… until the thought of another matter came to mind.

Instead she veered towards the Maester's Tower, where the rookery, medicinal stores and Maester Aron's quarters all were. But she was not the only one who had business with the maester apparently.

"Hold still," she heard Robb's voice saying.

What are you doing here? Jeyne thought to herself as she stepped in with her children. "You're supposed to be taking a day away from being king."

For a moment there was no answer. Then she saw what was happening.

Robb and his older son, Eddard, were sitting together and holding hands as Maester Aron began to remove the bandage on the boy's face. She watched silently, at least until she could see the left side of the boy's face clearly. When she finally did, she let out a gasp of horror.

Running down his face was a long red cut, starting on his forehead, and running down to the bottom of his cheek continuously, save for his eye that had been mercifully untouched. It was a ghastly sigh, showing signs of infection, and with how dirty the boy was, it seemed that the wound might have been soiled too. Eddard might have been in excruciating pain, but he was doing a good job of hiding it.

Jeyne turned to her children quickly. "I need you two to wait outside," she instructed. They're too young to see such horror, she thought to herself, but that only made her feel worse. He's too young to have such a terrible injury.

If the maester was troubled by the cut, he did not show it. "Your son's wound should heal in time, Your Grace. But he will need the wound cleaned regularly enough, and the bandages will need to be changed often. The wound does not look fresh, and the infection seems to be passing, this bandage… it is much too dirty."

Maester Aron retreated into his stores for a few moments, while Robb was still sitting beside Eddard. "Jeyne?" Robb called out when he spotted her.

She knew there was little purpose standing at the door, so she decided to walk in. "What happened?"

Little Ned didn't answer, and instead he looked at her skeptically. "W-who is…".

"This is Jeyne. S-she's…" Robb's voice trailed off.

"Your step-mother," Jeyne finished. What else would I be to him?

They boy didn't seem to understand what that meant. "Mother?" His tone indicated that he was confused that his mother had suddenly changed. "Mother is…"

Before they could say anything more, the maester had returned with some supplies. Among them were two buckets of water. "The boy has already been bathed, yes?"

Robb nodded. "We didn't wash his face though…"

"Good," Maester Aron said, nodding. "We ought to wash his face now then…"

Jeyne stepped forward. "I'll wash his hair," she volunteered, taking the shampoo the maester had brought out.

"Very well," the maester said, before turning back to Robb, holding out a sponge. "If you'd like to wash his face…"

"Aye," Robb said, taking the sponge. "Do you want me to clean the wound first? Before we soil the water with anything else?"

"Lightly," the maester agreed. "Cleaning the wound will hurt though… just focus on the skin around it." He turned back towards the boy. "If you wouldn't mind laying down, my prince…"

Once they had Eddard in position, Robb began by following the maester's instructions. Jeyne waited until he had finished with the side of the face with the scar horrible wound, since Eddard thrashed a couple of times.

"Do you like baths, Eddard?" Jeyne asked as she started to cup a little bit of water to drop it through his hair. Seeing the boy like this drew back memories of Arthur's final days, of how her son had just gotten sicker and sicker, laying in Maester Aron's quarters, until he had finally expired in his sleep. It was a thought she couldn't stand, but she made herself stay. Robb didn't get a choice in this, nor did his son, so she wouldn't leave them.

"No," the boy said, almost immediately. "Mother makes us…"

"Oh, right," Jeyne said, smiling and holding back the urge to pinch his little nose. "I should have known better than to think a child would like bathing. Even one as special as you." She found herself slightly fascinated by the little streak of gold in his hair, amidst the sea of auburn curls that were just a shade darker than his father's.

Robb decided to speak up. "Do you remember who did this to you?"

Eddard seemed a little bit afraid now. "It was… a scary man… he had black teeth… Theo was there…" the boy said with his childish voice.

"Theon?" Robb guessed. "Not your little brother."

The prince nodded. "Y-yes…"

Her husband had a look of pure hatred on his face, but luckily he didn't act on it.

"What do you like to do, Eddard?" Jeyne asked. She had nearly been tempted to call him Ned, since that's what people called Robb's father quite frequently, until she remembered Robb saying something about how Eddard didn't like being called that. "Playing games… or… I don't know…"

The boy looked completely unsure how to answer.

Robb must have thought up a better question. "Does Theo still follow you around everywhere?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes…" Eddard said, frowning.

Jeyne began to put shampoo in his hair. "You get along with Melantha, don't you?" she asked.

Robb seemed to choke back a laugh. But she still waited for him to answer. "Yes," said the boy, tentatively.

"And do you ever play with Joanna?"

Eddard shook his head slightly. "Mother says she's too young to play…"

Jeyne figured that was true. She also wanted to keep finding out more about the boy still, and maybe allow him a chance to know her. "You know what I like to do, Eddard?"

"What?"

"I like to sing and dance. Maybe we can dance together sometime," she suggested, thinking of how she often did with Lancel and Kay. Maybe Robb's children are like that. "I like stories too… my mother's not too good at telling stories, I'll bet your mother tells them way better. It was always my father who told me stories."

"Old Nan tells us stories," he replied.

She thought back to Robb saying something about an old storyteller when he talked about Winterfell and the household. Myrcella also told stories really well, according to him, usually finding her own little spin to put on the simple fairy tales and fables that she'd grown up listening to. Robb himself wasn't even that bad, though she got the sense that Eddard didn't remember his father in a very specific sense, so much as he just remembered who his father was.

Robb was now wearing a sadder expression. "How bad does it hurt, Eddard?"

He didn't say anything back, but from how he looked, it seemed like this must have been the most painful thing to ever happen to him.

"It will heal," she said, looking into his stoney grey eyes. "It's not going to hurt forever."

She allowed the thought to hang in the air between them for a little while. When she started to comb the boy's hair, he complained quite loudly, but by the time they were finished, the boy already looked much better than before.

The maester took away the stuff they had been using to bathe him, and then turned their attention towards the wound. Eddard was sitting upright and playing a silent game with Robb, right until the maester returned. "Hold still, my prince, this is going to sting."

The boy looked to his father, scared and looking for a savior, but Robb only kissed him on the forehead, and whispered something in his ear, before the maester started to wash his wound. Once they were done with washing the wound, the maester began applying ointment, and then finally bandaged the wound. The prince had managed to go through all of Maester Aron's cleaning without crying once.

"You did well," she heard Robb whisper to him this time, as he picked the boy up and hugged him tightly, but he already seemed sluggish from exhaustion. She turned outside, having forgotten what she originally had planned on going to Maester Aron for. "Lancel, Kay!" she called out, not raising her voice too high.

Her children appeared within seconds. "Yes, mother?" Lancel asked.

Jeyne looked at her step-son. "Eddard," she said, calling for the boy's attention. He seemed to perk up a little bit, and looked with his one uncovered eye. "These are my two children," she introduced, pointing, "Lancel and Kayanna." Then she looked back at her children. "This is Eddard," she told them.

"Our brother?" Kayanna's voice suddenly asked, a little quietly. She looked like upon hearing the word yes, she was going to jump at him and give the boy a hug.

"Well, yes," Jeyne said, while putting a hand up. "Eddard can't play right now," she said, "he's a little too tired."

"Aww," Kay said, disappointed.

"Once we're back at the keep, we can play all day," she told her daughter, offering up a hand, which Kay took. With her other hand, she slipped it into Robb's free hand.

"Will father play too?" Kayanna asked.

"He's not…" Lancel started to hiss.

"Lancel…" she said to remind him to be nice. "Come on."

"You seem stronger," she told Robb, as they were going. It was like he'd found a new strength inside of him. She wondered if it was the children that had helped him find it, whether it was through them helping him feel better and easing his grief, or if they just simply gave him something else to think about than grief and his duties. .

Whatever the case, he didn't say anything, so she decided to pry at something else. "Why Joanna?" she asked, with a quieter voice. Luckily, Kay and Lancel didn't seem to be paying attention.

Robb adjusted his grip on Eddard; who had already fallen asleep. "After we had Eddard, Myrcella decided that if we were to have a daughter, we would name her Joanna, after her grandmother- made me swear by the Old Gods and New. Myrcella had a strained relationship with her mother, but she always got along with her grandmother. So when our daughter was born…"

"Would you have objected?"

"No," Robb said, shaking his head. "I made a vow… I would have kept it."

"What if you had another daughter? What would you name her?"

He shrugged. "I… don't know," he admitted. "Maybe Lya for my aunt… though I don't think my grandmother would like it because of what happened to her… if she's still alive."

"Oh." Jeyne knew the story of Prince Rhaegar abducting Lady Lyanna Stark. She'd been to marry Lord Robert Baratheon, who would soon become King Robert Baratheon, but died before she could be brought back home. "Well how about Nan?"

Robb took a second to judge if she was serious or not. When he must have decided she wasn't, he finally started to laugh. "Gods no… nobody who grew up on her stories would ever name a daughter after her."

Kay looked up, a little bit bewildered. "A… new sister?"

It was Jeyne's turn to laugh. "You've already gotten two you haven't met. Be patient, sweetling."

The little girl's hand suddenly slipped out from hers, as she ran in front of them to go over by Robb's side. Only to find that his other hand that wasn't her was holding up Eddard. Lancel was already moving to get her back, but Jeyne stopped him, wanting to see how it would play out next.

"Mother said you're our… step-father now," Kay explained.

"Mhm," Robb said, looking down at her with amusement.

Kayanna kept going. "But mother said that father is dead. So are you my true father now?"

Jeyne held back a laugh. Sweetling, that's why he's your step-father. But she was not going to answer for Robb.

Her husband looked desperately for advice from her, but she gave him nothing in her face except amusement. "It's not mine to decide," she whispered.

After a moment of thinking, he finally spoke. "Well… if you'd like-"

Kay didn't wait for him to finish. "I would!" She signaled her approval with vigorous nodding, then hugging Robb's leg.

While he looked up at her with a look of dismay, Jeyne could only smile. So it is settled then.

Author Notes:

Alrighty… I decided to start this story a bit further in the narrative for ASOIAF to avoid rehashing events that I've already been over in my Wars of the Dragon series. Just to clarify a few things, the events of the main story are delayed about four years with the events of AGOT taking place in about 302 AC instead of 298, and picking up in the third act of ACOK around halfway through 303 AC.

A lot of the age changes get touched up on later, so I won't go fully in depth here or anything, but quickly listing some of the important ones here: Robb- 20, Myrcella- 18, Jeyne- 23, Lancel- 7, Melantha- 5, Kayanna- 4, Eddard- 3, Theo- 2, Joanna- 3ish months. I'm always happy to address things in PMs or through comments on AO3.

Thanks for reading!