Savages - LolaStark

Chapter Thirteen

[Theon]

"Did you come here to gloat?" she asked him, looking up from underneath her long, fair lashes as her maid combed through her flaxen locks. She was smiling from ear to ear as she sat there, her hands placed delicately in her lap as if she wasn't trying to insult him. "If so, I can tell you that you're wasting your time."

But that was the best part, he realized. She had no idea of what was to come. And her time for taking up his offer had expired. He was leaving with Robb's army and the bannermen that had heeded their overlord's call. And she would be stuck here, in a much different position than she once had before.

It almost pleased him to imagine her miserable. After all the harsh things she'd said about him.

"You think I came here to gloat?" he asked her with a smirk. "And what, pray tell, would I have to gloat about?"

"Please," she scoffed at his false tone. "We both know you came here to tell me that I have made some grave choice in staying. You're still embarrassed that I didn't leave with you when I had the chance. It's all very flattering, you know. But I simply have my sights set on the bigger prize. Robb is marching South to war, leaving me here to run Winterfell as Lady of the House until Lady Catelyn's return. When he becomes a hero at war, people will envy my position. The wife of the Warden in the North. Regardless of the outcome, my position will be secure once I have the Maester marry us."

"You really think it's all working out for you, don't you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Jealousy is not a becoming trait on you, Theon," she said waving her maid away. Once the maid had left the room she placed her hand over his. Normally he would have found it a nice gesture, but that was before he realized what kind of games she played. This gesture was only meant to be condescending, at best. "You know it doesn't have to end, right? You and I can still share your bed from time to time. You are so well-versed in pleasing a woman," she whispered, stroking his cheek.

He pulled her hand away, grabbing her wrist and her smile faded.

"This is not one of your games anymore Kathryn," he said harshly. "Lord Stark might die, Robb might die. You think you'll be Lady of Winterfell without any heirs? You'll be considered an old maid before Bran's old enough to marry. And even then you'll bear him no children, not with him crippled."

"Robb will have heirs," she hissed, pulling her arm from his grip.

"Yes," he said, frowning. "But you'll not give them to him."

Now it was her turn to frown. She stood, her eyes nearly level with his and she glared at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she whispered.

"Have you not heard who is helping Tywin Lannister back Joffrey's coronation? Or who was instrumental in bringing Lord Stark to his arrest?" When she didn't answer, Theon realized her father had yet to inform her. "House Ashford has pledged fealty to the new King, and renounced all ties with House Stark and the North."

Her eyes widened.

"He wouldn't-" she started, still in denial. He'd seen the letters that she thought she hid so well. He knew she was planning on her father staking claim on Winterfell, hoping Robb fell in battle.

"He wrote Robb, demanding that you be returned to the Reach. He sent a pretty wagon of gold along with the rider, told him it was payment for breaking your betrothal," he said, his smirk growing as she started shaking her head slowly. "Only problem is," he said shrugging. "Robb thinks you would be a good bargaining tool and sent a letter back to Lord Ashford, claiming you as his hostage, to stay at Winterfell until his father was freed."

"Robb would never keep me here against my will," she insisted but Theon laughed.

"Lord Stark would have done the same," he explained as he let go of her, tossing her wrist to her side and walking towards the door. "Now let's see how much you're worth to your father."

She ran after him as he closed the door behind him, locking it to insure she wouldn't run away before the guards were set on her room.

"You cannot do this! Theon you cannot keep me here!" she shouted as she pounded her small fists against the door. But he only smiled, though she could not see.

"As I recall, it was you who wanted to stay. I'm just giving you your wish."

And with those parting words he left her there, knocking against the door wildly, shouting after him.

And as he tossed the key up into the air, catching it with ease, he told himself that there was nothing sweeter than the taste of revenge.

[Fallon]

The wind was whispering along the moors, the light flakes of snow covering the hills that lead towards the castle. It crept lightly through windows and cracks, pushing itself into the once warm chambers and dancing across the flesh of the sleeping figure.

Fallon's shoulder was bare, as was the rest of her as she lie there, only a thin sheet covering the lower half of her body as she shivered. It was the whispering wind that woke her. The sun had yet to rise, hiding along the horizon in the East. Her eyes opened slowly, as she awoke. The large bed, belonging to Robb Stark, was much softer than hers, she decided and rolled over to tell her bedmate that she might take up his bed as her own when he was gone.

But as she rolled over, no bare body lie next to her. Auburn curls she'd expected were replaced only with an empty spot on the bed, the space cool and the dim light from the fire showing no one had been there for quite some time. She sat up, pulling one of the furs from the bed up to cover her now shivering skin as she looking around the room. No one looked back at her, only the emptiness and sound of a crackling fire kept her company.

Grey Wind was long gone from his place on the edge of the bed as well and she realized she was alone.

Panic arose within her as she stood, wrapping the fur around her as she walked towards the window. Outside she could see the castle wall, torches lighting the edge, exposing the grounds below. Those, too, were nearly empty, only a few guards passing by as they walked casually towards the wall, climbing to their posts and relieving the previous watchman.

But what was present, was evidence of horses, many horses she realized by the number of hoofprints littering the ground. The dirt was lightly covered in a layer of snow so thin, that it was mixed, leaving behind a wet mud that was disturbed by the hasty departure of a group of horses.

They were gone.

Her steps were desperate now as she ran across Robb's empty chambers, searching for her dressing gown and pulling it on with haste. The ties were lazy done up as she exited the room, running not a few doors down the corridor where Bran was resting. She opened the door clumsily, her heart racing as she entered the dark room, a deep growl startling her as she searching carefully for the bed.

"Summer," she whispered, trying to soothe the ill-temper of the direwolf on the edge of Bran's bed. Soon the growls were silence and she began fumbling with the candle on the nightstand, lighting it so she was then able to see Bran's eyes looking back at her.

"Fallon?" he said, his voice hoarse as he tried to sit up but she urged him back down.

"Shh...don't get up," she whispered, pushing back his hair from his face. His nose scrunched slightly in confusion, in a manner that reminded her greatly of Robb. "Where is your brother? Was he here?" she asked and she could tell by his downcast eyes that she didn't have to elaborate one who she meant.

"Yes, he came to say goodbye," he told her and Fallon felt her throat begin to swell.

"When?" she asked quickly. "When did he come, how long ago?" He glanced at the window, looking out at the dark sky and then back to Fallon.

"It was before they lit the torches," he explained. "Fallon you aren't going after him are you? Robb told you to stay here. How am I supposed to run Winterfell without you here to help me."

"Bran," she whispered, grabbing his hand in hers, trying to keep her own from shaking as she did so. "I don't know the first thing about being Lord of a castle. That's what Maester Luwin is here for. He's much more clever when it comes to that sort of thing."

"But what if I don't want you to go?" it wasn't Bran's voice who said it though it was clear he was about say something very similar.

The voice belonged to the youngest Stark, Rickon, who stood in the doorway, Shaggydog by his side. She couldn't see his face very well in the dim lighting, but she could tell by the sound of his sniffles that he was crying. She stood and walked towards him, picking him up in her arms and kissing his forehead.

"Don't cry, my love," she whispered. "You need to be brave, and keep Enat safe. She'll need someone to look after her when I'm gone."

"But everyone's left us," he said, his voice catching. "Father, Mother, Arya and Sansa, Jon. And now Robb. If you leave us we'll be all alone."

"You are never alone, Rick," she said with a sad grin, trying not to let the tears fall from her eyes. "You are a Stark. The Starks always have a friend on their side."

"We could go with you," he pleaded but she shook her head, wiping his tears as he clung to her, his arms around her neck.

"What is it your Father always says?" she quizzed and he shook his head, not wanting to answer.

"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell," Bran finished, a sad whisper leaving his lips. She looked over her shoulder at him and nodded.

"That's right. Now, I'm not a Stark. But you two are. And you two must be here to guard the North. You can do that can't you?" she asked and both reluctantly nodded. "Just like Drustan the Younger. Do you remember?"

"He guarded the seat of the Magnar, kept the barbarians from the East from invading while his father was at war," Bran replied.

"Yes and he did it all at age twelve. Not much older than you Bran," he said. "Drustan did it all alone, and here there are two of you. I know you'll keep the North safe until your father returns."

"Will he return?" Rickon asked and Fallon smiled.

"Of course," she whispered, knowing that her answer sounded more certain than it should have. "Robb is going to bring him home."

Rickon hugged her then, the hard embrace full of sorrow as he cried into her hair. At her side Shaggydog was whimpering helplessly, pawing at her leg as he tried to sooth his boy. She carried Rickon to Bran's bed, laying him down next to his brother. His direwolf hopped up onto the bed next to him as she pulled his arms off of her and kissed him one last time.

"It is goodbye for now-" she said, whispering the words she once used to say to Corran.

"-but not forever," Bran finished, wrapping his arms around her neck.

She left the room swiftly, without looking back for fear that she might let her tears fall. She closed the door, letting the sound of Rickon's muffled sobs disappear as she made her way towards where her chambers were located.

She entered the room, holding her throat as the lump grew larger. It was bothersome, to say the least. The ache had become a hinderance as she ruffled through her wardrobe, pulling a few of her simple gowns out and placing them in a bag on her bed. She pulled on a pair of riding trousers and lastly pulled on her warmest fur coat.

She left the room just as quickly as she'd come. The bag hanging over her shoulders as she ran down towards the kitchens, the sound of her boots loud on the stone floors. The kitchen was well-stocked still, she noticed, though much of the meat and grain had been devoted to the army. There was still enough bread, however, that she would last until she found the camp if they weren't still gathering in the Winter town. Fallon grabbed just enough that nothing would be missed and threw the sack over her shoulder.

The wind was blowing harshly against her skin once she reached the outside. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her hair and rushed towards the stables. Time seemed to be fleeting, she thought. There was not enough time to say a proper goodbye to Bran and Rickon but the one person she should have made time for was already waiting for her by Fiachra's stall.

Her breathing paused as she looked into the eyes of her friend. Her long hair burned bright under the torch light and her expression was one that told Fallon she'd been waiting for her arrival.

"You weren't going to say goodbye?" Enat asked and Fallon sighed, noticing Fiachra was saddled and packed. Enat had done it for her. Like always.

"He left without saying goodbye too," Fallon replied and Enat chuckled lightly.

"Fallon you are my family, if you leave I might never see you again," she said and Fallon nodded towards the horse.

"And yet you prepared Fiachra?"

"I didn't say I was planning to stop you," she replied with a smirk on her lips.

Fallon reached for her, embracing her tightly, knowing very well this could be the last time they would see one another. She wished the light was brighter, that the dawn would peek over the hills long enough that she could see her friend's beautiful features as they were intended. Enat was a woman of beauty, someone Fallon had always envied. She was her sister, perhaps not in name, but bound by fate.

"You are in my heart, my sister," she whispered in the Old Tongue. Enat smiled and kissed her cheek. "Keep the boys safe."

"Stay along the path, they will not have strayed from it, do you hear me?" she said and Fallon laughed as she mounted her horse. Enat's motherly tone was more of an 'i love you' than a warning. "I heard Rowan say they would be meeting at Moat Cailin - only a day's ride from here. Broden will be bringing our men as well. I received my brother's letter telling me they have reached the shore."

No other words were needed. Fallon glanced over her shoulder only once, looking at her friend, her sister.

And then she was gone.

The ride was hard, but short. Fiachra raced through the thin layer of snow, drudging up the mud that lie damp underneath it. Fallon could see her breath in the icy air, Fiachra's as well as they both pushed forward. She stroked the black mane as they rode, whispering words of comfort in their home language. Fiachra pushed and pushed until the distance was closed and she saw the torch light of the village up ahead. She would make it, she thought. Surely they'd still be gathering the horses, the wagons and the rest of the supplies. The army wouldn't march out before dawn.

But as she entered the town, there were only a few tradesman walking about, preparing for their day. She dismounted her horse, running towards the blacksmith, Dag. They'd had many words before, spoken with laughter and long stories of the North that even she hadn't heard. He looked up at her curiously.

"Milady?," he asked her. "Ya shouldn' be out in this weather so early. It's too cold."

"Dag, where are the men? Where are the lords?" she asked, her breath ragged and his face fell then and it was confirmation she was too late.

"They been gone, Milady, for some time now. Lord Stark wanted to push his men South 'fore dawn rose."

She looked towards the road that led out of town. It was a fair distance to where Robb was headed, but even if they had half a days ride on her, she could catch them before they settled into camp for the night. They would be traveling at an army's pace. But she rode like any Skagosi did, with haste. As she turned towards her horse he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Milord did tell me that if you was to stop by, lookin' as if you was about to follow the army South, that I ought to tells ya-" he started and then looked into her eyes and smiled. "Ya know, I can't for the life'a me remember."

She smiled in return, kissing his cheek lightly in thanks before running off towards Fiachra. He waved as they galloped off, which Fallon returned before pulling her hood back up over her hair and she set off on her journey.

Robb would be furious when he saw her, that she knew for sure. She didn't want to undermine his requests, but this was different.

Fallon wasn't ready to let him go.

[Robb]

The sun was lowering itself in the sky. Clouds were cleared slightly as the sun began to fall over the horizon, glowing off the the Fever River that rested just outside of Moat Cailin. It had been a full days ride before Robb thought it better to make camp. More of his bannermen were joining him here, the meeting point where the lords had agreed to make camp before setting off all as one.

Nearly all the banners had joined by now, only House Magnar had yet to arrive but Rowan had assure Robb that Broden had pulled his army together and had sailed across the Bay of Seals to meet Robb's army in only a few days time. Rowan had been a good companion, one that was honest and blunt when needed, and then keeping the mood light enough that Robb wasn't constantly feeling dread inside of him.

Currently the he was acting in Broden's place on his small council as they talked tactics. The map was spread out, the large table in the recently erected tent making it easy to see the challenges they would face. Ravens had arrived with news from Southern supporters and their Northern scouts who had gathered information on the movements of the King's forces.

The Lannisters had the most men. They were stationed in the Riverlands, ravaging the lords of each of the castles as they saw fit. Riverrun had to be protected and Robb new once the Skagosi army arrived, he'd have a well matched army for battle. Many of the Northern lords were skeptical about Broden's army. Many had never met any of the Skagosi until Rowan. But Robb wouldn't stand for prejudice, he'd made that clear.

The Skagosi were to be trusted, if anything he knew that much.

Soldiers arriving from White Harbor were pouring in by the hundreds as tents went up and fires were started in the snow to keep many of the men warm. It had been years since the last real snow and already he was realizing most of them weren't quite used to it yet.

Before he'd entered the hall, he'd seen Lord Cerwyn was standing with his daughter, glancing at Robb with a keen eye as he had when he'd suggested he bring her to help cook for the men. She had been eyeing him, as he thought she might. Lord Cerwyn had claimed she'd just come along as company and to cook, but even Theon knew the man wanted to put the girl in his bed.

She wasn't particularly pretty, but she wasn't completely unfortunate either. But regardless Robb's eyes were not looking for a pretty face. The only face on his mind was back at Winterfell, her peaceful figure fresh in her memory from early this morning when he'd left her in his bed.

He could almost see the fury that would ensue once she realized he had left without a proper goodbye. But Robb couldn't bear it. He had tried several times in the early hours to find the words to wake her from her slumber. But nothing seemed good enough. He didn't want to say goodbye. It would have been unbearable for the both of them.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he realized the hall had gone silent. He looked up to see all the men looking towards the door, Grey Wind standing excitedly. He turned quickly to see exactly who they were looking at and Robb grinned widely at the sight of her.

"Mother?" he whispered, almost in relief as he spotted her, walking towards her quickly and engulfing her in a hug. It had been over a month since he'd seen her and while the reunion was unexpected, he found it to be a much needed surprise.

"Let me look at you," she said with a grin on her face and he pulled back so he could see him and she placed his hand to her face. "You've grown a beard," she said in surprise and he nodded. "You look like my brother," she told him with a fond smile. "I like it."

He knew his mother had last seen him clean shaven from Fallon's blade. But after she'd left, he felt no need to keep up the appearance. Fallon liked the stubble on his chin, the light auburn hairs that grew out and made her smile and laugh when he'd rub it against her face.

"I had not expected to see you," he said, not letting go of her hand as she held onto him, as she once had when he was a boy. Though he was no longer a boy, he still sometimes longed for those days. Now they had long passed and he was a man leading an army to war.

"I had not expected to be here," she told him and he thought of Bran and Rickon back at Winterfell. They missed their mother. But Fallon was there to keep them company, to distract them in the ways she knew best. Soon his mother would be there too and he wouldn't have to worry over either of them. "My uncle has decided to join us as well," she said, introducing the tall man standing behind her. "Ser Brynden Tully."

"The Blackfish," Robb said with a grin, reaching out his hand to the man and shaking it. "I've heard much about you, not just from my mother," he said and the Blackfish laughed. "And where is Ser Rodrik?"

"He is headed back to Winterfell as we speak," she explained.

"Good," Theon said then. "Maester Luwin may be a smart man, but he certainly doesn't know much about war."

"The boys will like that as well," Robb added. "Though I'm sure they like it much more when you return."

"I'll be home before long," she replied.

"My lady, a question." Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, asked. Robb saw her expression change as he spoke, the joy leaving her eyes. He could tell she felt the same way about this man that he did. But Lord Bolton was an excellent ally to have right now. "There have been rumors that you hold Lord Tywin's dwarf son as captive. Do you have him still?"

"I did hold Tyrion Lannister but unfortunately I was forced to relieve him from my charge," Catelyn explained and the hope left the men through a chorus of disappointed groans.

Robb had heard many stories about his Aunt Lysa. He knew his mother well enough that there was more to the story than she was letting on, but her tone expressed that she was through talking about the matter. He was about to suggest that they take a walk when Grey Wind started whining anxiously. He looked down at him, the pup having grown so large already as he rounded Robb with a nervous pace, staring at the door and nipping at Robb's fingers.

"What's gotten into your beast, boy?" the Greatjon asked and all the lords looked at him curiously. But Robb didn't have a chance to answer before one of the guards bursted through the doors, running towards him quickly.

"Milord Stark!" he shouted and Grey Wind stepped in front of him, pausing the man's running as his eyes fell upon the Direwolf.

"Well, what is it boy?" the Greatjon asked the guard. "Spit it out."

"A spy, hidden 'n the woods. They found one outside the camp," the man replied nervously, his eyes not having moved as Grey Wind paced. Grey yipped slightly up at Robb who furrowed his brow.

"A spy from where?" Theon asked. "What sigil?"

"I daresay, they was wearin' the sigil of House Magnar on their cloak," he told them, looking direction at Rowan who stood behind Robb and his mother. All eyes turned towards him.

"What did I say about that Skagg, boy?" the Greatjon boomed. "I said he wasn't to be trusted."

"Broden wouldn't send a spy, Robb," Rowan said calmly. "It must be a misunderstanding."

"Bring him in," Robb said slowly and the man looked at the lords nervously.

"It is...a woman Milord," he whispered and Robb looked back at his mother and then back to Rowan.

"Bring, her, in then," he replied and waited as the man ran back out.

It was only moments later that they came back in, the two guards covered in snow, holding the woman roughly by her arms. Her hood covered her features, snow was sprinkled over the fabric and her bulky cloak hid the rest of her, only the slightest bit of Magnar green poking out from underneath the thick fur. Grey Wind growled loudly, barking as he attempted to go forward but Robb urged him back with his hand on his fur.

The guards threw the woman to the ground so roughly that she cried out at the contact with the rough stone floor. Robb cringed at the treatment. Spy or not, she was a woman. Again Grey tried to lunge forward, this time without growling and Robb couldn't stop him as he ran to the woman's side. It was that action that made him certain of the initial feeling that had been clinging to his gut. This wasn't just any woman.

"Pick her back up!" he shouted, angrily and the woman looked up at the group of lords, her hood falling back.

"This is your spy, Magnar?" Roose asked, his hands crossed over his chest as he glanced over to Rowan. He didn't have a chance to reply before Robb interrupted him.

"She is no spy," Robb said lowly, shaking his head as the men picked her back so she was standing up straight, holding her elbow where she'd hit it on the ground. Grey was yipping excitedly by her side. She brushed her hair from her face and Rowan walked towards her quickly.

"Let her go," he whispered harshly to the guards who glanced at Robb nervously.

"Do as he says," Robb insisted and immediately they let her go and Rowan grabbed hold of her in their stead.

She didn't look around the room as she caught her balance, only straight at him, her eyes piercing. They were full of something fierce and Robb knew that look well. There was no shame, no apology, just her standing there, steadfast and expectant.

"What are you doing here Fallon?" he asked her but he didn't give her a chance to explain as he shook his head angrily. "I told you to stay at Winterfell."

"Has something happened?" Catelyn asked, stepping forward with worry in her voice. Robb's first thought was to ask the same thing, until her expression made it clear that the only thing wrong was between the two of them. Fallon's features softened as she glanced at his mother.

"No My Lady," she said quickly. "Everything was well on my departure."

"Then why have you come?" she asked sternly.

"A war is no place for a woman," the Greatjon said, his eyes steady on Fallon, a curious rise in his brow.

"With all due respect, My Lord Umber," she said. "I have seen more war than many men of my own age here now in Lord Stark's army."

The two had not gotten off to a good start back at Winterfell when Robb had brought the lords to court them towards his cause. The Greatjon had more than a few words for what he thought of Skagos and after hours of drunken banter, Fallon had lost what was left of her self-control as she lashed out on the great brute with that brutal temper of hers. Of course the Greatjon found it amusing, just as he did any sort of challenge directed at him. But Fallon still took the insults to heart and since that moment they had been at odds.

"Still no place for a woman," he said again with a chuckle which faded as Catelyn turned her head and set her eyes upon him with a heavy glare. The chuckled, which boomed loudly throughout the hall at first soon died into low laughs until he glanced at the floor, as if shamed by his own mother, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"Fallon," she then whispered, grabbing the younger girl's hands in her own. "You are a brave young woman, but I think you are needed more at Winterfell. It is your home as much as mine now."

"Mother," Robb interrupted. "Father wrote to us both. Fallon is no longer a ward of Winterfell." Catelyn looked surprised by the news but she nodded.

"I do consider Winterfell a home," Fallon said softly. "Your family has become a part of me and I will forever be in your debt. But my family is also here. Rowan and Broden-"

"Fallon," Rowan warned her.

"Ro," she pleaded and he stopped his protest. "Lord Stark," she said, looking up at Robb, her expression carrying less furry as it fell to something softer. "If you wish me to return to Winterfell, I will ride back at first light. But I beg a moment of your time, before you decide."

There was a long moment of silence then. No one moved, just waited and watched what Robb would say or how he would react. This was all an act, he reminded himself. To the lords he had to be a leader, and to his mother, he needed to prove he was ready. Fallon's facade was much better than his. His Fallon would have unleashed her fury upon him the moment she stepped in the hall. This Fallon was composed and voicing her plea as if she spoke to a king, not a lover. But that was the Fallon she needed to be in front of these people.

He looked to his mother first and she was glancing between Fallon and Robb curiously before she sighed and grabbed her dress from the floor.

"Come My Lords, let Lady Fallon have her audience," Catelyn said and Lord Umber was the first to follow, having already been shamed once by Lady Stark and not wishing to do so again. Theon followed and then Roose Bolton whose eyes lingered on Fallon for some time before he finally looked away with a contemplative frown on his pasty features. Rowan was last, looking at his sister with a stern frown that said there were words still to be said between them.

But as the door shut behind them, the room was left to she and Robb. Right now the only words to be had were between the two of them. Only Grey Wind stayed, reprising his place on the hearth, close the fire where he closed his eyes.

Part of him wanted to take her in his arms the other part wanted to scold her for coming here. But neither part as prepared for the sting of her palm against his cheek. The slap rang through the hall. Grey Wind looked up momentarily but placed his head back on the rug in disinterest. He looked back and her eyes were on fire as her chest heaved. This was no longer the subdued and obedient girl from moments previous.

This was his Fallon.

"You left me," she whispered.

"You knew I was leaving," he tried to explain.

"You left without saying goodbye," she said then, her voice low but still harsh. "You said goodbye to everyone but me."

"Fallon I-" he started to say but her hand flew up again.

This time he was ready for it and he grabbed her hand in his and pulled her struggling body close enough that he was looking down at her. Her neck was craned up towards him, the way she hated because it made her feel so small. But she was small. So small and fragile, and it scared him. Which was why he couldn't have her here.

"Why didn't you say goodbye?" she asked once her struggling ceased and he sighed.

"I've never been one that was good with-," he started, his answer causing her to huff impatiently. He nearly smiled at her childish reaction. "Listen, I said, I'm not very good at goodbyes. And when I saw you there, lying in my bed so peacefully, without that worried frown on that pretty mouth of yours, I couldn't bear to ruin that." Her expression began to soften. "I wanted to remember you with a smile on your face, not tears in your eyes."

"And me?" she asked, her voice cracking. "What if I'd never seen you again. What would I have to remember you if not your goodbye."

This time he did smile, remembering their last night together. Their bodies warm by the fire on the fur rug at it's hearth, as they made love to the sounds of the winter wind howling along the moors. It was a good memory, he thought. A better goodbye than any insufficient words he could have scrounged up this morning.

"Why are you really here?" he asked, pushing her hair away from her face.

"I...I was angry," she stuttered, unprepared for his question. "You left."

"I had to leave, you knew that," he said and she shook her head.

"But you left, me. You left me behind and-"

"And...what?" he persisted when she paused and she closed her eyes.

"-and I wasn't ready to let you go."

It was an honest answer, the most selfish thing he'd ever heard her say since they'd met. And it had taken a lot for her to admit that.

"My love," he whispered, kissing her lips. She melted into him then. Her rigid arms falling against his shoulders until they snaked over his chest. He felt a pang in his heart, ripping slowly through his flesh as he held her close. "You know I cannot let you stay," he told her.

"If you send me back I'll just find another way to leave," she whispered into his shoulder. "I'm not your prisoner anymore," she said quickly and he frowned.

"Fallon don't say such things," he told her. "You were never our prisoner."

"In a sense, I was. But now I have my fate in my own hands. And I know I can do some good here. I'm of more use here than I'd be back in the solar embroidering cushions" she explained calmly. "I cannot sit around idly, waiting for a raven to send me news of your victory or your death. I am useful in battle, ask my brothers."

"If I let you stay, what will the men say? What will my mother think? They'll think I favor you for letting a 'woman' stay in the midst of war."

"Since when do you care about that? You were the one trying to convince me to marry you while you were still betrothed to another," she reminded him and he gave her a flirtatious smile as she so.

"Yes, you've told me what a dishonorable cad I was. But I am betrothed no longer and yet you still will not have me," he said with a smile and her eyes rolled in annoyance.

"Robb this is no time for your jokes."

"Is it such a repulsive idea to you?," he asked through his chuckles and then kissed her hand.

"That is an unfair question My Lord," she said, pulling her hand from his lips, much to Robb's disappointment. "I have made my feelings for you very plain."

"And it is unfair of you to beg me to stay," he said, his seriousness returning. "You ask me to betray more than my honor here."

"I only ask that you do not send me away. I will earn my keep, just like the others. If you will not let me ride into battle, I'll stay far from the fighting, far out of your way," she begged.

Robb had hardly ever heard her beg and never like this. She was one step away from falling to her knees to plead her case. But none of it sat well with him. The thought of her so far from safety. He felt the sudden urge to hold her tight, the bulky cloak of hers hindering him from feeling her fully engulfed in his arms.

"How am I to protect my men, and myself if I am constantly worrying about your protection?" he asked her, his whisper muffled by her hair but he knew she heard him. "I can barely think of how to lead this army on my own. I am not fit for this but I must do my best to be their leader. And the leader in me says I must send you home, to Winterfell," he clarified and she pulled her head from the nook of his shoulder to look up into his eyes.

"And what does Mo Faol say?" she asked, her soft voice matching the softness in her eyes. "Commander Stark wants me gone, but Robb, my lover...does he want me gone so hastily as well?"

"How can I answer that? It is as unfair a question as the first," he said, shaking his head.

"Are you saying you don't like the thought of me warming your bed after each battle, kissing your battle scars, nursing you back to health?" she said, her voice sultry and he could feel the longing within him return as it had the previous night by the fire, her naked body draped over his. "After months of seeing the ugly faces of your men, the scarcity of a beautiful woman in your camp, you will long for the feeling of a woman in your tent."

"I only want one woman," he said, his voice catching from the huskiness of his whisper. Her hips pressed against his.

"All the more reason I would be of some use to you, My Lord."

She placed her lips over his, her fingers tangled in his hair and Robb felt all of the reservations he held fading slowly every time she rolled her hips over his. Reason was replaced by his lust for her, by the love he held for the woman who was trying so hard to manipulate him with her body. Part of him knew it was working, but the other part was completely aware that he was being played like a musician and his lute.

Giving this stubborn woman her way would mean betraying his duty. He had a duty to this army and his mission was to save his father. But to say no would mean betraying his heart. If Fallon was in camp, he'd know where she was and he'd know if she was safe. He knew that more than anything right now, he needed the confidence to command this army. If anything, Robb knew Fallon inspired in him the confidence of 10,000 warriors so it seemed.

His indecision was his enemy now, as well as his heart that swelled from the words she was currently whispering into his ear, her lips pressed gently against the skin of his neck. He loved her, beyond a doubt he did. And it was that love that clouded his judgement in a moment when he needed a clear head.

Finally he pulled her away slowly.

"I will have words with your brother before I can make a final decision," he told her slowly and she seemed, at first, to accept this.

"I can accept that. Rowan knows my value," she explained but he shook his head.

"Not Rowan. I will have words with Broden, upon his arrival," he clarified and the certainty in her eyes seemed to fade.

"But-" she started but the look on his face stopped her.

"You may no longer be ward of Winterfell, love, but Broden is Lord of Kingshouse and Magnar of the Nighean of Skagos. He will decide whether your place is here."

His tone was final and she seemed to understand that though her expression showed she was battling her desire to contradict him. But he was right, and he knew she realized this.

"And what shall I do until Broden arrives?" she asked him and Robb thought of a way to keep her occupied.

"I need to cross the Twins," he explained, pulling her over towards the oversized map on the hall table and pointing where Lord Walder Frey's fortress was located by two identical towers with a large bridge. "You told me a story once, of the Magnar Cadeyrn who wanted to cross the large bridge in the mountains, guarded heavily by the ancient tribe of cannibals."

"Cadeyrn needed the bridge to reach the mountain pass, or else he would not be able to defeat the warlord Morcant of the North. Yes, I recall the story," she replied, her eyes traveling over the riverlands. She traced her fingers over the landmarks as she spoke. "Tywin and Jaime Lannister are like Morcant, sealing off your path to King's Landing, while also ravaging every castle in the Riverlands."

"Yes," he agreed, glad he understood his reference. "You said the bridge tribe let Cadeyrn pass and Morcant's forces were defeated with the help of the savage tribe as well. But how did Caderyn convince them to aid him and his army? They could have helped Morcant just as easily."

She seemed to consider this as she toyed with the large figures on the table. The black lion head was near to Riverrun while another was resting closely towards the Trident. She traced the outline of the direwolf next, glancing momentarily towards Grey Wind who as sound asleep and warmer than either of them as they stood in their winter coats. And then she looked up to Robb.

"Send your mother to bargain with Walder Frey," she said and Robb's eyes widened.

"My mother?" he started to protest but she held her hand up to signal she hadn't finished.

"You asked how Caderyn was able to convince the bridge tyrants to let him cross? It wasn't Caderyn the Magnar, but his wife that attended the parle," she said as if it were obvious and Robb's brow furrowed in confusion.

"His wife?" he asked and she nodded.

"Caderyn's wife was of Skane, the small island right off the main coast of Skagos. During the great migration, many of the Skane islanders moved inland and formed subtribes in the Black Mountains. Caderyn's wife, Brangaine, was the daughter of the previous man who ruled the bridge, the cannibal savage leader of the Black Mountain clan. She'd won the Magnar's heart and they fought side by side in battle because of her agility and strength. Because of her relation to the Black Mountain savages, Caderyn trusted her to parle with the bridge guard to secure safe passage. For eight days they set terms and argued particulars until the ninth sunrise when Brangaine returned to Caderyn, she told him that they were granted passage."

"What were the terms of the agreement?" Robb asked, though he had an idea.

"Caderyn had to sacrifice a hundred of his men to guard the bridge from Morcant, and two of his daughters were promised to marry the clan's best warriors."

"He sacrificed his own daughters?" Robb asked in disgust and she shook her head.

"It was Brangaine's proposal, she knew it was either marriage or death. The Black Mountain clan is known for its brutality, but their women are protected, worshiped even. Brangaine knew Caderyn wouldn't like it, but he also knew they'd be safe. She had grown up among the savages after all."

"So you think because my mother is a Tully that Lord Frey will listen to her?" Robb asked, staring at the stone figure of the Twins. She shrugged.

"I have heard your mother speak of that man. And I do believe he will listen to her."

"And do you think he will allow our passage?" he asked her then.

"I don't believe he is to be trusted, Robb. Your mother will tell you the same. She knows Lord Frey is a greedy man. We'd be lucky if he wasn't already in Lord Tywin's pocket," she said and he sighed.

"Perhaps, but if he is not-will he let us pass? Do you think?"

"Not without a price," she whispered and he nodded. He had expected as much. "Let me go with her," she asked then, her voice eager. "I can prove my worth here at camp by helping your mother secure our passage."

"No," he said immediately and she frowned.

"Would you just consider it, for a moment?" she asked sourly. "It is not the first time I have attended a parle."

"I will not risk you or my mother, I will go myself," he said and she laughed.

"You? Lord Walder will ransom you to Lord Tywin piece by piece. You forget the King want's your head. You are coming for his after all."

"I go for my father. War can still be prevented," he said seriously and she grabbed his hands.

"Not if you are a prisoner," she replied. "Which is why you should let me go with her. Send us to the Twins and I will ensure Walder cannot refuse you."

"How?" he asked her and she smiled, the pretty smile that Robb knew well. The smile that said she had a plan.

"I must present him with an offer he cannot refuse."

A/N: I cannot say it enough..THANK YOU! I have read so many encouraging and excited reviews lately that I've been dancing with my own excitement as I have outlined the next 3 chapters. A lot is about to happen and I can't wait to see how you all feel about it as I write it. If you have any more questions, don't be shy, please let me know. Thanks! xoLola