Author Notes:

Oops, I accidentally wrote some horror.

Jeyne

"Mother… I'm cold," her son was complaining.

"Then you might want to consider snuggling a little bit closer," she told him, opening her arms to allow him to hug her.

"Why can't we just stay at your home?" Lancel asked. "Why do we have to…"

Lancel had been asking her that question for the past two nights now, and both times, she gave him the same answer. "You're going to learn why when we get there," she promised.

Jeyne had snuck out of the Crag with her son in the middle of the day. With Robb having taken the bulk of his army with him, and all of his men that were staying there to either keep hold of the castle or to protect his children, she was allowed free reign to do as she wanted. So she'd gathered up the things she needed, her son, and snuck out from the castle on their journey. Her plan was not exactly perfect. If she told Robb about it, he probably would have approved it without any fuss at all. But at the same time though, she knew she had to prove herself somehow. And that's what she aimed to do. She'd show him and all his bannermen that he hadn't made a mistake by marrying her.

"Why did we have to leave Kay?" Lancel wondered. "Can't she come too?"

No. Jeyne figured their chances of success would be better if she had left her younger child behind. Both because Kayanna would serve as a hindrance to their travels, and because leaving her served to prove that she was still loyal to Robb. "We're going to be back with Kay in a few days," she assured him. "We just need to… hm… carry out some business."

He looked at her funny. "Does this have anything to do with the King?"

"Yes," she allowed herself to answer. It's probably for the best that he still refers to Robb as the King, rather than as father or Robb or something else. Expressing affection for his step-father won't serve him well where we're going.

"Why do I have to come with?"

Jeyne put an arm around him. "Oh, because I couldn't bear to be without you for a week," she told him, smiling. "You or your sister, I must surely have one of you with me."

Lancel frowned. "But why not her?"

Questions… so many questions out of you… Admittedly, not being without Kay for a week was even harder than being without Lancel, because she knew her daughter would have a harder time being without her mother. "The truth is, I need your help, Lancel. Like… a puzzle maybe. But I don't quite need you to help me, like… helping me to solve it. I need you because you're… well you're the answer to it."

Her son made another odd face. "Why am I the answer?"

She rolled so that he was now laying directly on top of her while she laid on her back, then gave him a kiss. "Because you're my special little knight… hm… you're my champion Lancel. My brave little warrior."

He still didn't seem to understand. "You want me to… fight?"

Jeyne just smiled. "Your job, Lancel, is to just be my son. And my job is to be your mother, right now." She patted him on the head, where his beautiful green hair had become a bit of a mess due to the lack of time to wash and comb it. "I just need for you to do what you're told tomorrow, alright?"

Traveling the countryside was a little bit safer now, Jeyne had figured. Robb's men weren't carrying out raids along the road that they were traveling on, and now that they had beaten the last remaining forces loyal to the Lannisters in the west, Robb had largely recalled his army and refocused his attention on taking more castles it seemed. So Jeyne was going to do her part to help.

Lancel let out a yawn.

"Just sleep, sweetling," she whispered softly, "tomorrow is a big day."

While her son nodded off to sleep, Jeyne did the same.

In her dreams, she dreamt of a night many years before. She dreamt of a sleeping sorceress, who Jeyne almost immediately recognized as family. Somewhere deep in the woods.

In came three girls, who all appeared to be about ten, by Jeyne's guess. The first in was the most beautiful of them all, a girl with golden blond curls that fell to her waist, bright green eyes that shined like emeralds, and a most beautiful face. In a few years, Jeyne had little doubt that this girl would have grown into one of the most beautiful women in the world, perhaps even the most beautiful woman.

Following closely came another girl, a little bit older. She had light auburn hair, and had a pretty look to her, with freckles on her cheeks. She seemed almost as bold as the one who had been the first inside, though the blond girl was their leader, and had gone first because of that.

Finally came their third companion, after a few seconds delay. She seemed to be the youngest and most timid of the three girls, with a plumpless to her where the other girls were quite slender. On her own, she might have been decently pretty, but in comparison to the companions she was keeping…

The blond girl went forward to where the sorceress was sleeping. Don't do it, Jeyne thought, sensing the disaster that was soon to come. Leave now. But the girl did not heed the advice of anyone.

She tore the covers off of the sleeping witch, and kicked her bed. "Wake up, we want our futures told," she demanded.

When the old witch opened her eyes, the plump girl almost immediately burst out of the tent, leaving just the prettier two. Jeyne wished that she could follow, as where she initially recognized the sleeping woman as family, she now felt a sense of dawning horror. Her eyes were yellow, with a truly horrible quality to them that Jeyne couldn't quite explain. The long hair on her head was bone white, and her skin was wrinkly and worty, with a strange greenish tinge to her jowls. There were no teeth in her mouth, when it opened, and she looked like she smelled repugnant too. "Begone," she croaked out.

"We came for a foretelling," said the blond girl.

"Begone," the old witch repeated.

"We heard that you can see into the morrow. We just want to know what men we're going to marry," the freckled girl argued.

The witch responded the same as before. "Begone."

But the golden girl set her hands on her hips, appearing as authoritative as possible. "Give us our foretelling, or I'll go to my lord father and have you whipped for insolence."

Then the freckled girl took over. "Please," she begged, "just tell us our futures, then we'll go."

Oddly, the witch seemed moved by that. "Some are here who have no futures," she muttered, adjusting her robe, then beckoning the two girls who had not fled a little closer. "Come, if you will not go. Fools. Come, yes. I must taste your blood."

The freckled girl paled slightly, as the old witch took a dagger out, offering it to them. The blond girl took it first, running the rather crude blade across her thumb, then handing it to the girl with freckles, who did the same.

Jeyne wanted to tell the girls to go. She wanted to tell them to go far far away, and forget all about this night. But they didn't.

"Here," croaked the old witch, "give it here." But it was not the knife she asked for. It was the sliced thumb of the blond girl. With her toothless mouth, she sucked the blood from the wound.

Run.

"Three questions may you ask," said the witch, when she was done. "You will not like my answers. Ask, or begone with you."

"When will I wed the Prince?"

"Never," replied the old witch. "You will wed the King."

The golden haired girl wrinkled her face in response. "I will be queen, though?"

"Aye." There was a sinister look in the yellow eyes of the witch now. "Queen you shall be… until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."

"If she tries I will have my brother kill her," responded the girl, clearly not liking the answer. "Will the King and I have children?"

"Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and four for you." She paused, only for a moment, then kept going. "Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the Valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you."

"What is a valonqar? Some monster?" The girl took her companion's hand. "You're a liar and a warty frog and a smelly old savage, and I don't believe a word of what you say. Come away, Melara. She is not worth hearing."

But the girl, Melara, was stubborn. She offered her thumb to the old witch. "I get three questions too." The old witch just seemed amused by it, as she took Melara's thumb. "Will I marry Jaime?" she said, before the witch was even done sucking the blood.

The poor girl Melara only got to ask the one question. "Not Jaime, nor any other man," said. "Worms will have your maidenhead. Your death is here tonight, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close."

While Melara looked in horror as the fortune was recounted. But the golden haired girl had different plans, grabbing one of the potions by her and throwing it straight into the old woman's face, shattering the glass and releasing the harmful concoction on her face. The two girls ran straight out of the tent together, while the witch cursed them in a foreign language.

Then the witch's eyes met with where Jeyne's was. "Granddaughter," she croaked, in the same foreign language that she had just used to curse the girls. Somehow Jeyne understood it perfectly now. "You will avenge me…"

I won't… Jeyne thought to herself. You're not my grandmother. She had met both of her grandmothers in life, and she was not either of them. Not Lady Alia Spicer, not Lady Grenda Westerling, who had both perished during Jeyne's time. I don't know you.

"You were born to be a maegi," said the witch, "my true heir."

I'm no maegi. I'm a lady. I'm a woman. A mother. A queen. She felt a dawning horror, as she tried to speak for the first time. "That girl… whose children will die was Myrcella, wasn't it? Robb's wife?" You foretold her future. Cursed her to a truly terrible fate… or… was she really that stupid and horrible?

"I did no such thing," said the witch, like she'd heard Jeyne's words. "The girl you ask of was one of those fated to have their shroud seen by their mother…"

Queen Cersei? You cursed Queen Cersei?

"You see the power I offer now, girl? I possessed the power to make and break a queen in a time where true power still slumbered. Now… I give you a sight beyond your own mortal eyes." She cackled horribly. "Cersei drowned her friend in a well that night… she wanted to make certain she really would become queen. She deserves the fate that is bestowed upon her."

But her children don't deserve that. She thought of several nights before when Robb's younger son, Theo, had been inconsolable after a bad dream. When she tried to comfort him, he said that he wanted his mother, and it didn't matter how much she had tried to tell him that his mother was far away, he just wanted her.

"The world is a vile place, girl," said the old witch, like she could read Jeyne's thoughts. "But true revenge takes cruelty."

"Let me go!" Jeyne then shouted. She realized that she had spoken in the foreign language too. "I don't want this!"

"Mama," a little boy's voice suddenly said. Jeyne felt like the very earth beneath her was shaking. "Mama, mama, wake up."

The witch's evil glowing eyes seemed to burn as all else faded around them. Then she woke up. Lancel looked utterly terrified as her eyes opened. He wasn't snuggled against her anymore, but had recoiled away, and must have been trying to wake her up. She felt so utterly exhausted just now, feeling like she'd just run several miles without stopping once. Her breath was heavy, her entire body seemed to be drenched in sweat, and her heart was pounding.

"Mama…" he said, timidly now, as he backed away. "Mama you were screaming…"

"Lancel…" she said, looking at him, still struggling to catch her breath. "Lancel, I'm sorry… I had a nightmare."

"M-ma-ma…" he said, with his voice quivering. There was absolute terror in his sea-green eyes, and she didn't dare to move closer. He's afraid of me right now.

"It's alright, Lancel." She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. The moon was still high in the sky. She decided that she probably wasn't going to get any more sleep that night. He wasn't alright though. He remained as far from her as he could be without running away. "Lancel… sweetling… I'm your mother… you can."

He recoiled again, as if her mere words were somehow inflicting pain on her. "No… no… stay… away…"

What's the matter with him? Jeyne asked herself. "Why don't you go back to sleep, Lancel," she suggested. "I'll bet you were having a bad dream." Just as hers had been.

She decided against waiting for him. After all, if he was scared of her right now, her words were probably the last thing that could soothe him. But if she laid down to sleep… she'd be able to maybe get him to follow. Only one problem remained for her: she couldn't sleep. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't take her mind off of that witch.

Myrcella was cursed… Jeyne thought to herself. She and her little siblings are cursed to die to inflict pain on their mother… All to predecease Queen Cersei… That was a horrible thought for her. Thinking of how the Queen's own children were just some sort of sacrifice. Chattel really, destined to die before their mother.

It made her feel even worse for Robb. To have loved a woman who was destined to die like that…

Does he know? Jeyne wondered. Has he had that same dream as I have had? Did he ever learn of that night through something else? Should I tell him? Jeyne considered those questions for a while, but she ultimately thought better of it. Robb had been hurt enough, in her eyes. But she felt horrible about all of it.

When she thought of Robb's children, that made her feel even worse. Their own mother had been destined to leave them so young, just to inflict pain on her own mother… what did that leave them? And everyone else who had ever loved Myrcella, and everyone that loves Myrcella's brothers and sister?

When she got back, she swore she'd make sure to give Robb's little ones as warm a hug as she would give Kay. Even if their mother had been carried off by some curse, she'd make sure they still received all the care they needed.

She remembered thinking of that, and thoughts similar to that for most of the night that was left. At least until just before dawn. Because she did wake up at some point.

"Lancel?" she called out, groggily. "Lancel, are you…?"

Sleeping, Jeyne thought, as her eyes fluttered open. The sun was not very high just yet, as she lifted her head.

"Lancel?" she called again, feeling a bit more panicked. "Lancel, where are you?" She sat bolt upright. "Lancel?"

But he was gone. "Shit…" Jeyne muttered to herself, as she got up.

The mare was where she had left it the night before. So were all the other things. All that Lancel had taken was his wooden sword, she saw.

"Lancel!" she called, louder then. "Lancel, where did you go!?"

She was met with a whinny from her mare and nothing else. She looked at the horse then, in desperation. "Do you know where he went?"

Of course the horse was incapable of speech.

Jeyne looked around for a second, panicking, but saw nothing. Oh gods… if I have caused him to run away… then I am truly doomed, Jeyne thought to herself.

"Lancel!" she called again. "Lancel, come back!"

But then Jeyne realized that was a bad idea. They were in Greenfield lands now, and if somebody heard her calling for a boy named Lancel…

And even worse than that, if he really had run away because he was scared, then calling out to him was just alerting him that she was looking for him. That would probably make him just run faster, or panic himself.

"Oh no…" she muttered. Lancel was never the sort of boy to run away. He was brave… if she'd scared him so much that she had caused him to run away…

Then there was the matter of her plans… she couldn't return to the Crag without Lancel, and she couldn't do what she had planned at Greenfield without him either. She'd brought him because she needed him for this. But now if he ran into the wrong folk, he would be in danger.

"Come back, Lancel…" she muttered. "Please… just…"

She remembered something her father had once said, when teaching Raynald about hunting for the first time. Anything that walks will leave a track, he said. Sometimes it'll be faint, sometimes it'll be obvious, but there will always be some track… at least until something else covers it up.

Jeyne was no hunter. She had no experience following tracks, or riding through the woods or anything like that. But she supposed her father was right. Lancel probably would have left footprints as he was running away from her. Now she just had to find them.

First she had to break camp, putting away their things and all that. But she decided to leave her horse behind. Jeyne was a skilled rider, of course, but if Lancel ended up doubling back to the camp, she wanted him to at least be able to eat something. And Jeyne had always been good at finding her way around the woods. All she needed was tracks.

Naturally, she found the tracks that her mare had left as they were riding the day before, but finding Lancel's was a little more challenging. It took almost a quarter of an hour before she could even find the right one, and by then she had changed her mind about leaving her horse. She took Jessalyn's reins and started to guide the horse.

Jeyne thought it best to walk, rather than get on the horse and ride. Not only because it allowed her to see the tracks better, and not worry about if the horse would follow them, but also because she was following the path of a seven year old boy, not a woman on a horse. With the thicket of trees that she was foraying into, she needed to be able to walk like that.

She walked for several hours. Unluckily, there were several streams in her path, which Lancel could have used to completely get rid of his tracks, but luckily, her son hadn't proven to be that clever. Instead his trail reemerged on the other side of the river, which she suspected might have been influenced by the cold water, and their lack of waterproof boots.

He'll tire eventually, Jeyne kept telling herself, as she followed the trail. Her son did not do well when he didn't sleep enough, and Jeyne suspected he had not slept at all after he had woken last night. Based on that, he would be looking for some place to lay down and nap at some point, likely oblivious to the fact that she was pursuing him.

There were some inconveniences too. Her sleeve was torn by a branch at one point, and her hair got caught on a particularly low-hanging one just a little later, which she had to spend several minutes untangling. She had to stop and eat, which made her feel even worse, as she knew Lancel would be getting hungry too at some point.

Then there was the village…

"Madam," greeted a shop owner just outside a small hut. "Are you looking to purchase anything?"

"No…" she said. "I'm looking for a green-haired boy. Has he been through here?"

For better or worse, green hair was not the most uncommon thing in Greenfield lands. Only Greenfield men ever inherited it, and some like her Arthur, took after her instead of having his father's hair. But there were enough distant branches that there were at least some boys with green hair at any given time, which would reduce suspicion that she was looking for Lancel.

"A green-haired lad…" replied the shopkeeper. "Seen three of them today already. Two of them was riding in from the main rode, went down to Ullsbury."

"And the third?" Jeyne asked. "Did he come from the woods like I did?"

"Aye," the shop-keeper agreed. "Madam Tyla took him to her inn… the boy was hungry, you know."

"He's my son. We were…" her voice suddenly stopped, as she chose the next words carefully. "With those rumors of the wolves, I thought it best to travel off the road, so we'd stay safe."

"Hm…" the shop-keeper pondered that for a minute. "Heard there was a battle in the ruins of Castamere. Wolves beat us there. Badly. Heard they're burning through the countryside now. Gods will that Lord Tywin comes to crush the rebels…"

"Castamere…" Jeyne repeated. She had known Robb was planning on taking more castles along the coast, but she hadn't remembered if he was going to face an army or not. But if Robb had faced a battle at Castamere, that meant the Lannisters were closer than she expected. "How bad were we beaten there?"

"Ser Daven and Ser Forley's host was routed. Got no armies here no more," the shop-keeper answered. "Only Lord Tywin's gonna save us."

Jeyne figured that Robb would have his own intelligence on the matter too. Likely more accurate than what this shop-keeper could give him. "I was hoping my son and I could seek refuge in the castle. Are they letting all Greenfields…?"

"Not that I knows of," said the shop-keeper. "But you'd best get your boy first. Give a good clout on the ear too for leavin' ya. I'd've done it myself if I'd known…"

That's no way to treat your lord… Jeyne thought to herself. "Where's Madam Tyla's inn?"

"Just down the road, other side… that buildin' there," he said, pointing.

"I see it," Jeyne said.

"But if it's the wolves that's bothering ya, you'd best leave these lands altogether. Heard that the Wolf King married Lord Guane's widow. Had a princess for a wife too, we thought, but now he's decided he want another. But those savages follow their own lawless gods, don't they? Why's a man to be bound to just one wife if he rebels 'gainst his rightful king?"

Why's a man bound to just one wife if the other gets murdered because of some curse against his beloved's mother, you mean, Jeyne thought to herself. "Thank you," she said, instead. She didn't know how else to keep the conversation going.

Then she started to go in the direction of the tavern that Lancel had gone to. "Welcome," said a plump woman of perhaps thirty, as Jeyne walked in.

Jeyne didn't follow the proper etiquette of being at a tavern though. "I'm here for my son," she said, "green-haired, seven…"

"Oh," said Madam Tyla. "Him."

She looked puzzled. "Have you had a problem with him?"

"Boy's not worked a day in 'is life," said Tyla. "I gave him some food, then told him to go work my kitchens. Stupid lad don't know what to do with himself in there. Whines about how sleepy he is too. Had to give him a clout on the ear already, and a spanking on the arse too."

You'd be speaking more respectfully if you knew who he was. "I'm his mother, not you," Jeyne protested. "You've no right to beat him."

"No…" Tyla said. "But he needs it. And no doubt you'll give him a good thrashing too for running from you." Then she turned. "Boy!" she said, as she walked into the kitchen. "Your mum's here to give you a thrashing!"

The next thing Jeyne heard was a scream, followed by the loud crash of several pots and pans hitting the floor. "No!" Lancel cried out. "No! Not her!"

"Get back 'ere lad!" roared Madam Tyla. "No, not the window!"

Jeyne cursed under her breath. He's escaping through the window. She bolted out the door, so that she could chase after him. Luckily, there was a clean alleyway between the tavern and the store next to it, so Jeyne was free to race down it. And as she got to the other side of the tavern, she caught a glimpse of him.

"Lancel!" she shouted, unable to contain herself now. "Lancel, get back here!"

But he was running in absolute terror through the open field behind the tavern. A young man who looked like a cook seemed to be struggling to get out of the window that Lancel had escaped from, and there was more shouting from within the building too, but none of them mattered. It was just her and Lancel now. Unlucky for her, Lancel was very much his father's son. Slender, quick on his feet and graceful all at once.

She kept her pursuit up, until she was halfway across the field. But as she was starting to lose her breath, Lancel was entering the woods.

He'll keep running there, Jeyne thought. He'll keep running forever, while I have to walk so I can just stay on his trail. I'll never catch him there. I'll never…

Jeyne was washed over with despair. And then… a tugging in her gut. And a scream.

Lancel's screaming. Lancel's screaming as the trees were starting to move. He was running back towards her, running from the trees.

For a second, Jeyne didn't understand. But as she looked closer, she saw. The trees were moving. Not just blowing in the wind… their branches seemed to be reaching out like hands, trying to grab him, or winding together like twine to create a wall. They were moving as if they were alive, and Lancel was running away from them.

Somehow it felt like the world was closing in around them too. As Lancel ran, it felt like things were narrowing… she was not moving her feet at all, but she was moving towards him. Her son meanwhile, seemed to want nothing more than to run away from both her and the trees. But somehow, he seemed utterly incapable of that, as the world around them started to close in… whatever direction he ran, it was away from the trees and towards her.

Then she had him. Much faster than either of them were capable of closing that distance that had been between them at the start.

She was hugging him with a grip of iron. "Lancel, sweetling… I love you… I love you… I…" she'd frightened him.

"Lancel, sweetling… I love you… I love you… I…" he said, in a face that was blank and expressionless.

"Oh gods," she gasped sharply. "What have I done?" That dream last night with the old witch hag… Lancel's fear, and his running away. The trees, the way they had moved to each other, and now this… "Lancel, baby, where are you?"

She had kept her hard grip on him, as she tried to see what was the matter. My magic, Jeyne started to realize. My power…

"No…" she muttered then. "Give him back to me. Give him. I don't want this power. Give him back. Make him forget…"

The tugging in her gut grew more intense. It was spreading, creating a sensation of euphoria. Something was rising within her.

Then she started to heave.

When she was awake again, Lancel was lying cuddled beside her, in the middle of the field. She remembered what had happened, but only distantly, as if some kind of dream or memory. And Lancel did not remember at all, she somehow knew.

When he did wake up, it was as if nothing had happened. Even the villagers didn't seem to remember them at all, though when Jeyne tried to take back the horse and her belongings, they didn't protest. Madam Tyla was throwing a fit about some demon spirit making a mess of her kitchen, but she didn't recognize either Lancel or Jeyne. She just gave them a warm meal, and spoke to them pleasantly, in between her fits of rage at the cooks.

Once they'd finished eating, Jeyne and her son saw themselves out of the tavern. She helped Lancel mount the horse first, as was usual, and then she got on herself. When she took the reins, Lancel insisted on holding onto them as well, and she smiled as she let him, like always. Then she turned the horse down the road, where the castle of Greenfield was just beyond the horizon.

"Come on," she said, "we'll be there by dinner. And after a few days, we can go back to see Kay."

"Kay…" Lancel said in an almost dreamy voice. "I miss Kay."

Jeyne smiled. "And we'll see Uncle Raynald and Uncle Rollam and Auntie Eleyna and Great-Uncle Rolph…"

"... And Auntie Reena and Cousin Sylvia," Lancel continued.

Jeyne was worried about that. Her son seemed to grow so distant and dreamy now. She wondered if it had anything to do with that nightmare she'd had. Or why she couldn't remember how she and Lancel had actually ended up in that field. Or was that nightmare the reason they had ended up there? Was that why she could remember it so vividly?

Author Notes:

Thanks for reading!