Savages - LolaStark

Chapter Fifteen

A/N: I just want to note that things from this point forward will be different than the regular story and will be fairly AU. Many things will be the same, however there will also be many differences that are necessary to the plot I am writing. Please do not comment that my 'facts are wrong' because I am very serious about keeping the facts as accurate as possible. Of course the AU part of the plot will change some major canon plotlines. I hope that doesn't bother anyone. Thanks xoLola

[Fallon]

The day was breaking, and Winter's snow had found them in the Riverlands. It had covered the ground in a thin layer that was mixed with the dirt underneath it to create a dark mess of mud along the treeline. The wind blew sideways, the cold wetness harsh against the flesh of spectators watching the empty field as time passed slowly.

Fallon was sitting upon Fiachra, feeling on edge as she watched the trees swaying heavily in the breeze. Lady Stark was sitting upon a horse on her left and neither had spoken since they'd brought their horses towards the edge of the forest, atop a hill that looked over the small valley that was covered in the muddy snow. It was this direction that the men had disappeared late that evening. And, should all go well, it was that direction they would return with their victory.

Robb had taken six thousand men to try and take Jaime Lannister's army by surprise at Riverrun whilst Lord Bolton had led another two thousand to distract Tywin against going to his son's aid. Robb had been hardpressed to let the men go, knowing it would mean possible death to the men against Tywin's massive forces.

Rowan and Aedan, as part of Robb's personal guard, had ridden into battle as well, Broden leading half of the Skagosi soldiers into battle with Robb and the Freys. Lord Crowl stayed behind to help guard the camp and sat upon his horse, still as stone, to Fallon's right. When she looked up at him, she realized he looked older than she remembered. His wrinkled skin was hard and creased in places that weren't covered by his salt and pepper beard. His hard features reminded her somewhat of his nephew - Aedan. They both had the same serious expression when their minds were focused.

When he glanced at her she didn't turn away, only stared up into his bright blue eyes the way she remembered looking up at her father. On the horse next to him sat Bard, Aedan's father and he too glanced at her with an expression much softer through his auburn whiskers.

"They will make it back, all of them," she said to the man, as if he needed reassurance of his sons' safety. But it was her who needed the reassuring, she thought. She was the one who had been unable to sleep as she thought of Robb, sword in hand, her brothers by his side. But she couldn't help but say it as he watched her curiously, filling the silence with something other than a nervous sigh..

"I have no doubt of that," he said confidently. "Your brothers have never lost a battle, nor have my sons." She nodded as she cleared her throat and tightened her gloved fingers around Fiachra's reins.

"Not to worry now, Lonnie," Bard said in his thick accent. Bard Friel had called her 'Lonnie' since she was a child. It was the same reason most of Aedan's family, aside from Enat called her the name that made her smile so fondly. She looked up at the large man, his cloak making him look larger than he really was. "The Young Wolf has Skagos' best by his side," he told her

She felt the heat rise in cheeks though his words were oddly comforting. He had always known of Aedan's feelings towards her. But it was clear in his expression that he saw what Aedan had yet to notice, that she had changed. And while she kept her distance from Robb as much as she could, it hadn't escaped some of the men that their leader favored the daughter of Skagos.

"You should be out there as well," Lord Crowl said, his tone sour.

"Dearg," Bard warned but the older man waved him off.

"You're the Nighean, girl, and the Nighean fights by her men. Or have you forgotten?" Dearg told her and she looked away. "How many battles have you fought with your brothers? You were the one who saved my Kirwyn when one of those savage tribesmen of the mountains nearly brought an axe down upon his head."

"I am no longer the Nighean, Dearg" she told him bitterly.

"Your father would be ashamed to hear you say such a thing, after all he's done," Dearg told her and she could feel the disappointment in his voice washing over her.

"Don't listen to this old goat, Lonnie," Beardy told her. "He's spent too much time up in those hills. He's forgotten his manners."

But Dearg was right. It had always been the duty of the Nighean to fight with her men, as a way to honor the warriors who fought for their homeland. They gave their lives to protect hers, and she did the same. When the Magnar still ruled Skagos, the Nighean was seen as the people's princess, of a sort. She represented her family, and her men and would fight to the death to protect them if she had to.

She hadn't been naturally good with a sword like her brothers, nor was she very talented at throwing a spear. But she spent hours on end with Rowan and Broden, learning the skills that would one day be so crucial to her. Her first battle had been against the lowland clan near the shore and she cried when she killed her first man. But it had been necessary, she'd been told. While the base act felt so savage, it had been in protection of her brothers. And from then on they'd trusted her to watch their backs.

So when Robb had forbidden her to ride, of course she had taken it to heart. But it wasn't just Robb who had forbidden her to ride. Broden had told her to stay behind, something he had never asked her to do since she had gone on her first raid. She knew his reasoning had something to do with whatever secret their father had divulged. Then there was Aenys, who had tried to keep her locked up at the Twins to keep her away from battle all together. No one agreed to that demand, especially Robb.

Fallon began to feel as though too many men now had control of her life.

"Milady Stark!" one of the young squires called out and everyone on the hillside turned to see the boy running up the hill towards them, pointing out at the treeline.

Fallon sat, breathless as she looked out towards the trees, Lady Stark's hand gripping hers tightly as they both watched as a great direwolf emerged from the trees, barking and yipping wildly, horses following. But Fallon felt as though she didn't breathe until the white stallion emerged as well, Robb sitting there upon it racing towards them eagerly.

She let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling the joy swelling in her throat as she realized he was safe. She felt unbalanced as she steadied herself. Lady Stark let loose her tears that had been welling up in her eyes all morning. Both smiled as they looked at one another, their hands still grasped as more horses emerged, and the field was now full of returning soldiers, claiming victory with their cheers.

As they approached Fallon could make out Robb's features, the light hitting his dark hair just right so the auburn tints shone through. His face was red from the wind, covered in dirt from battle and she thought, perhaps, he had never looked more handsome than he did in that moment. She smiled down at him as he caught her eye and his straight lined mouth curved upward in a smile that she pretended was meant just for her.

She longed to ride out to meet him, to embrace him, to reward his victory with a passionate kiss. It was what the women of Skagos often did when the men returned from battle. They would meet their men on the field and celebrate with a public display of their love. But she stayed still, knowing it wasn't her place. Knowing that neither of them were free to make such a declaration out in the open.

But she did dismount as they approached, sliding off the back of her mare as she walked forward, her boots in the snow, waiting to greet her brothers as they rode at Robb's side. The men left their horses near the field as they then walked up the steep hill and for the first time, Fallon saw that they dragged several prisoners behind them.

It was one in particular that caught her eye as he was thrown by her feet. Robb came and stood next to her and his mother, looking at her only briefly before looking back down at the man.

The Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister.

"By the time the Lannister men knew what was happening, it had already happened," Robb said and Jaime looked up at them with the Greatjon's sword tucked under his pretty chin.

"Two lovely faces come to greet me?" Jaime said, his voice full of the cockiness she distinctly remembered from their first meeting. "Had I known you'd planned such a kind welcome, Stark, I would have surrendered my sword much quicker."

"I do not want your sword," Catelyn hissed.

Jaime's face fell when he realized he was no longer in a position to use his jokes. He was in an enemy camp. Catelyn's bark was harsh as she demanded her husband, her daughters to the Kingslayer who simply did not have the power to give them to her then. Jaime glanced at Fallon several times during their conversation, watching her with an intent stare that made her instinctively step closer to Robb.

The sound of Theon's threats pulled her from her distraction and she looked up at Robb to insist he keep Jaime alive. But Robb didn't need to be told that Jaime was a valuable prisoner, more valuable alive if they wanted to keep Lord Tywin's wrath at bay. Robb was smart, and he knew Jaime could be the key to getting what they had come for.

"Take him away," Catelyn shouted. "Put him in irons."

The men did as their lady commanded, and the Greatjon pulled Jaime off of his knees until he was standing.

"We could end this war boy, just you and I. You for House Stark, and I for House Lannister. Choose your weapon and we save thousands of lives. Let us end this now."

It wasn't an outrageous proposition. Fallon had been present for many duels in Skagos by warriors from warring tribes. But this was not Skagos, as these were not mountain savages fighting for farmland. Several moments passed as Robb looked at Jaime with a solid glare and Fallon could feel her heart begin to race nervously as she thought he might, for a moment, consider taking him up on his offer.

"If we did it your way, Kingslayer," Robb said, his voice low. "You'd win."

Jaime smiled.

"We're not doing it your way," Robb finished. "Take him away."

Theon and the Greatjon hauled Jaime off towards the tents and Fallon let loose the tension in her body. He finally looked down at her for the only the second time since climbing the hill and she could see the weariness in his eyes. It had been a long battle and they had won. But at a cost.

"How many lives?" she asked him and he sighed heavily.

"Three of my guard, both of Karstark's sons," he said, distraught. "Several others the Kingslayer brought down trying to get at me. None of that includes the men I sent to slaughter under Lord Bolton. Tywin's army would have crushed them."

Fallon stayed her hand from reaching out to him then, noticing several of his men were watching them intently. Aedan stood close, alongside Broden and her cousin Tristram Stane.

"Their sacrifice was great, as you are still here," she whispered and his blue eyes met hers. "The gods planned for you a victory," she told him the words she had memorized from her youth. "And so-"

"-let the honor of the victor be yours," echoed the Skagosi men behind her. She and Robb glanced at the men around her, each of them holding their longswords to the sky as they spoke. To Robb the action might have looked strange, but for Fallon, it was comforting, a familiar part of her home.

"You are the victor, Stark," Broden said with a nod of respect. "Let us pray that you have many more successes yet."

Robb looked out on the crowd of men who now had his attention. The crowd was thick as they awaited a speech full of pride over their victory. But Fallon saw the pain in Robb's eyes, the guilt that he still harbored whenever his father was mentioned.

"We may be the victors, but we have conquered nothing. My father is still chained in the dungeons of the Red Keep and my sisters are held captive by the Queen. We are still slaves to the Iron Throne, when the North should be free from their clutches. They want to swallow us up in battle but we will be heard. And until we are, this war is far from over."

Fallon watched as he walked away, towards the direction of his tent, Grey Wind following eagerly. She watched his retreating form, keeping her boots planted in the snow beneath her. Her hair blew wildly as the breeze came through, bringing down flakes of snow against her cheek.

Many of the men were on their way now, scurrying towards where the meal had been prepared for their arrival. It was her job to serve them, she thought, but she couldn't move from her place as she watched Robb disappear behind the long lines of tents and out of sight. Even if she couldn't go after him, she thought, she was not sure of what she could say. Robb was a sensitive soul, not used to the killing of men in battle. She remembered what it was like, the first time she killed another human being.

"Fallon," she heard from beside her and turned to see Lady Stark leaning in conceal her words from any others passing by. "Go to him."

Fallon was sure she'd misunderstood, but the look in the woman's eyes told her she meant what she said. But Fallon shook her head.

"I cannot. We should not be seen together," she said but the older woman's hand moved to her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"He needs you," the woman said reassuringly and Fallon could feel her feet urging her to move as she fought the urge.

"What am I supposed to say?" Fallon asked.

"Say whatever you need to, to make him believe he can do this. He does not need the words of his mother right now. He needs the faith of the woman he loves," she said and Fallon could feel the heat rush to her cheeks.

"My Lady-" she started but she was stopped by the woman's knowing eyes.

"You have helped him become the brave and courageous man I always knew he'd be. You inspire him to fight for the things he believes him. He needs you."

Fallon didn't attempt to argue this time, knowing that anything she would say would only cause Lady Stark to counter whatever was spoken. Therefore she lifted the hem of her simple dress, now soaked from the wet ground, and made her way towards the tent where she'd find Robb.

On her way, she received several stares from Frey men, those who knew she would soon be married to the family. Aenys' men would smirk at her and sometimes shout obscene comments that she chose to ignore. Then there were the brothers who often looked at her with pity. Olyvar had told her many times that she would do well not to anger her future husband by spending time with her Skagosi soldiers. But she had ignored him then, just as she would if Aenys had commanded her himself.

Robb's tent flap was closed, which meant he was wanting his privacy. She stood outside the entrance and looked around several times before finally making her way through. Robb was sitting on his makeshift bed, his head buried in his hands. She was sure he'd heard her walk in, but he didn't react as she stepped forward. He didn't look up even as she knelt in front of him and placed her hand on his, pulling it down so she could see his face. When his eyes met hers, she saw the uncertainty in them, the anguish built up and burning through the blue orbs that were now clouded with guilt.

"Tell me," she whispered, stroking his face and his closed his eyes at her touch.

"I was not ready for this," Robb said then, his voice heavy.

"You were as ready as any man is, before his first battle," she assured him. "You came back the victor."

"And yet I lost so much," he said quickly. "Lord Karstark will not praise me for my victory when he learns of his sons' deaths."

"They fought to protect you, as would anyone here," she said sternly. "You cannot belittle their deaths by blaming yourself. They chose to fight for a cause they believed in. We all believe in it. Their deaths had meaning."

"But is it enough? The men fight for me because they are bound, and I fight to bring my family home. But is that enough to justify their deaths?" Robb asked. "What if it had been your brothers. Would you be sitting here with the same words?"

"I would," she whispered confidently. "My brothers would not be here if they did not trust you. They support you, as do I. They know they are not invincible, that the gods may choose to take them at any moment. Men are but mortal beings. It is the glory they win in battle that will live on when their bodies have long turned to dust."

"I cannot stop feeling as though the deaths of the Karstarks are blood on my hands," he said, the pain burning through his words. She squeezed his hand.

"Their blood is on the Lannisters' hands. On Joffrey's hands. Those Lions seek to bend the North to their will. You rising up against the tyranny of monsters like them is honorable and brave," she explained. "There is nothing more honorable than fighting for what is right and Robb, what you are doing is the right thing. People will die, many more by the time the warring has ended. But their deaths will never be in vain so long as you continue fighting for what is right."

"What if I am not strong enough? I sit in here, feeling like a child and yet your brothers fight bravely, without fear."

"It is not without fear, that they fight, Mo Faol," she insisted.

"How did you overcome your fear, when you went into battle with them?" he asked her. It was a good question, one that she had not considered much in her youth.

"Is it death you fear?" she asked. "Or failure?"

"Perhaps it is both."

"I was fifteen when Broden took me to battle. Of course I was scared, I was only a child. Most women in Skagos are not meant to go to war. But I was the Nighean. The Nighean fights with her men. I feared failure but never scared of death. The gods gave me life so that I may fulfill my purpose to them. If it is my time to die, then I know I have fulfilled my purpose," she explained. "When I rode into the fighting I did not think of myself or fear what would happen if someone cut me down with their sword. I could only think of the villagers that had been captured by the hill tribesmen and of protecting those I fought alongside. Killing is never easy, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make for the greater good."

"You make it sound so honorable," he whispered. "I killed men today, took their lives from them. I felt no honor in their deaths."

"You killed men that were ordered to kill you. You killed them so less of your men would die by their sword. And you killed them so you could take back what is yours," she told him, her voice hard. "There is no shame in that."

"My men won't want to follow a boy who is ashamed to kill," he said.

"You're men saw a man just now, reminding them that glory is not what they fight for. They saw a man who fights with honor," she whispered. "If they ever saw you as a boy, Mo Faol, they do so no longer."

They sat in silence for only a few moments before she rose to leave. She would be expected to be at the serving line, to feed the men the meal she'd spent all morning cooking. It would be a mediocre meal at best, she knew that. But the men wouldn't mind so much so long as their bellies were full. As she rose to leave, Robb held her back down towards him and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, stroking her face with his calloused hand.

No words were needed after that, as she then rose from her spot and left him there in the tent.

And she just hoped her words would help.

[Robb]

Beyond the trees, the sun had long fallen in the sky and in it's place, the night opened up with a brilliance of stars hung above their heads. Robb's eyes had been diverted for the better part of an hour as they searched the skies for healing.

It had been hours after Fallon left his tent that he finally decided to leave his confines. It had been his stomach that urged him to leave, wandering around the camp until he came across the men, celebrating their victory with food and wine.

Fallon was in the middle of it, alongside Jonella Cerwyn, serving men bowls of stew and legs of whatever meat they had brought along. She was tired, he could tell by the look in her eyes as she passed a bowl into the hands of a man twice her size. Next to her stood Jonella, Medger Cerwyn's eldest child. She was nearly thirty if Robb had to guess, her hair several shades lighter than Fallon's raven locks. Most likely she'd been brought to warm Robb's bed, he'd been told by the Theon. Robb had since steered clear of her and her father's eager expression.

Rowan was sitting on the log nearest to Robb as they both ate in silence. Neither had said anything since they sat down, but both stared over at Fallon and Robb couldn't help but wonder if Rowan knew anything about the conversation he'd overheard between Broden and Rowan the previous morning.

Robb felt as though he might ask until he saw the Greatjon approaching Fallon with an empty plate. Robb knew the two of them enjoyed making the other look like a fool. Something in the large man's swagger made him believe now would be no different. There were several others who glanced at the two as the Greatjon approached her and Fallon's gaze didn't move from the service line even as he pushed through the men to stand straight in front of her.

"You call this food girl?" he said, his voice booming "How are me and my men supposed to fight a war eating shite like this?" He then paused and glanced at Robb. "I'm sorry, My Lord, but yer woman has is a damned awful cook."

"Then let us trade, My Lord," she said, her voice carrying over the crowd of spectators. "I would be happy to command the vanguard in your stead if you feel more comfortable in the kitchen."

The Greatjon's smile faded somewhat as he looked down at the girl who was only a foot in front of him, craning her neck to see him with her hand on her hips and scowl on her mouth.

"And how long, little girl, do you think you'd last out on the field?"

"Much longer than you, of that I can be sure," she said, her voice short and as the Greatjon stepped towards her, Robb rose to intervene.

But it was Rowan's hand that stayed him, holding him in his place on the log by the fire. Robb glanced at Rowan who simply shook his head. Grey Wind was growling lightly, his attention now on the large man threatening his master's woman. Robb then glanced to Broden, and several other Skagosi men who sat nearby. Broden was sharpening his knife, watching his sister only in mild interest, whilst Bard Crowl took a fierce bite out of the turkey leg in his hand. Not one of them seemed concerned. Several, including Aedan, even looked amused, smiling at their Nighean as she held her own.

"He needs to be stopped," Robb whispered and Rowan nodded slightly with a grin.

"He will be," he replied and Robb glanced up to see to two glaring at one another.

"You got somethin' to say, girl, then go on. Say it," the man said angrily and Fallon smiled.

"If you worried more about your men out there, and stopped being so damn reckless rather than spending all your time complaining about my food, then perhaps you'd save more lives rather than condemning them," she said her voice hard and the Greatjon stared down at her, the frown beneath his great beard deepening. "You're going to get yourself and the others killed if you don't fight more defensively. You fight like a old fool."

With that the man's hand was around her neck and Robb was quick to his feet. Rowan's held him back and Broden still hadn't moved as he looked up lazily from his knife. Robb didn't understand why all her men seemed so indifferent to her current state. Several of the Lords, even Roose Bolton had taken a step towards the Greatjon as well as if they were about to intervene.

But just as soon as the man's hand closed in around her neck, a knife was placed against his neck. The Greatjon stared, dumbfounded, down at the girl who held her long dagger against his throat, hard enough to draw the man's blood.

She then leaned in and whispered something in the man's ear, an action that caused nearly every man standing nearby to lean in with hopes of catching what she was saying. Robb couldn't hear her, but he knew what it looked like when Fallon Magnar was angry. She was no doubt threatening his life and his humility before the entire camp.

When she pulled back her knife, placing it back in its sheath, the Greatjon looked down at the small girl, pulling his hand back to his side as he did so. He stared at her for what seemed like many moments before placing his hands under her arms and lifting her to his height. He then planted his lips upon hers with a hard kiss and then setting her back down upon the ground, laughing as he did so - much to Robb's surprise.

"If I weren't a married man, Milday, I'd make it my life's mission to tame that mouth of yours," he said, his voice loud and clear, causing the men around him roar with laughter, including the Skagosi warriors as they watched their Nighean blush a pretty shade of pink as she too laughed, her hands on the Greatjon's shoulders.

"And if you weren't a married man, Lord Umber, I might just let you try," she replied in jest and Robb felt his lips curve up into a smile for the first time since he'd left for the Whispering Wood.

He would have never have gambled that Fallon and the Greatjon would put their differences aside so easily. But the man loved a challenge and Fallon, if nothing more to the brute, was a challenge. Robb had seen that firsthand. But she was also brave and stronger than he'd realized. He'd never seen her as a danger until that knife came up to the old man's throat.

The men were in a merry mood, then. The Greatjon had dragged Fallon by the fire where she matched him step for step on several of the Northern dances she'd learned while at Winterfell. She was pink-faced and full of laughter as they danced and Robb couldn't tear his eyes away from her in that joyful scene. The music was loud and the men were drunk in their spirits. But all the while he couldn't help but worry something was wrong that he just wasn't seeing.

"I can see something plagues you," Rowan said, and Robb looked back towards him. "About Fallon?"

"Perhaps," Robb said, looking over his shoulder briefly. "But I cannot be sure."

"Is this about what you overheard my brother speaking of?" he asked and Robb's brow furrowed in surprise.

"How-" he began but Rowan smiled.

"My sister tells me everything, well, nearly everything. She is rather tight-lipped when it comes to you, Stark," Rowan replied and Robb let loose a smile.

"Then you know what Broden is hiding?" Robb assumed but Rowan shook his head.

"No. But I too noticed something when my brother arrived at camp. And when Fallon came to me with what she overheard, my suspicions were confirmed." They both were whispering now, careful not to let anyone overhear.

"What would your father want to hide from her?" he asked and Rowan sighed. It was the expression that he wore that made Robb believe that perhaps there was more to the story than whatever secret Broden was hiding.

"Come," Rowan said, standing. "Let us walk."

Robb followed Rowan through the camp until they reached a wooded area, a short distance from where edge of camp rested. Grey Wind followed, like the curious direwolf he was and sat himself at Robb's side, looking up at Rowan with the same expectant look Robb was sure he was wearing as well.

"I am too young to remember the day Fallon was born, but Bard Friel knows the story as well as any other. He tells the story every year on her nameday and our father has always taken great pride in retelling it as well," Rowan began, his voice low as he periodically looked over his shoulder. "My mother was very much as Fallon is today. She took great honor in fighting battles alongside my father, rode the countryside atop her great mare as any man would. She was nearly to term with Fallon in her belly the year of the Great Raid."

Robb remembered the story of the Great Raid. Fallon had told the story to Bran several times but had never mentioned her birth in the story before. He listened to Rowan retell the story, many of the parts Fallon told were left out and Robb could see that Rowan was not as good a storyteller as his sister. But Fallon was very good at creating a vision for those who listened, helping the listener to envision the battles in great depth as if they had experienced it themselves.

Rowan told of the pirates that came from the east, from Essos. They came with their ships and brutalized the coast, taking Skagosi women as captives. Drystan Magnar rode out, calling the Lords from the northern part of the island to help. Kingshouse took the brunt of the attack as it was nearest to the port where the savages attacked. Drystan and his men held the castle and fought the pirates as they made land.

Fallon's mother, Moira, was sent away with the other children, meant to stay clear of the fighting. Bard and several of Drystan's most trusted men lead them north, only to be stopped by one of the forest rebel tribes. They were outnumbered and Bard urged Moira to run. But they were surrounded, Moira's only option was to fight alongside the men. She killed five men and soon after went into an early labor with Fallon.

"She was born beneath the ancient weirwood, the winds ranging around them, the ground thick with snow from the harsh winter," Rowan explained. "Bard said her cries were so loud every man bent his knee into the snow as my mother held her in her arms. The Great Raid was ended that day, and while Lords Stane and Crowl captured the pirate leaders for execution, my father rode out to meet his new daughter. Bard says my father never looked upon one of his children with a such an expression. Brought him to tears, it is said."

"Is that when he decided she was to be the Nighean?" Robb asked and Rowan shook his head.

"No, but that day I do remember," he said fondly. "My Father called the Great Council, the men of the families who had served House Magnar since before the Iron Throne took our kingdom. It was Fallon's twelfth nameday when it was announced, though the Council spent days arguing with my father over his decision. Bard never told me the reason, but I knew it had something to do with why my father was so protective of her."

"Broden says his decision was against their will, that she was not meant to be the Nighean at all," Robb recalled. But Rowan knew this. Grey grew restless at his feet, nipping at Robb's hand but he steadied him with a calming stroke of his fur as he waited for Broden's reply.

"You have never met my father, have you?" Rowan asked.

"No."

"He is a large man with a large beard and an even larger temper. I have always been told that I look a great deal like him, that one day when I grow a large beard I will be the spitting image of Drystan Magnar. Did Fallon tell you about Keeran?" Rowan asked and Robb nodded. He remembered the story of Fallon's eldest brother, Drystan's heir who died too young. "He too looked much like my father, as did Corran. But Broden took after my mother. Her darker hair and lighter eyes. You've seen the resemblance in Fallon?"

"Yes, there is a great resemblance between them," Robb replied and pieces started to fall in front of him like a great puzzle being revealed before his eyes.

"Broden has my father's eyes and his build. But Fallon, she looks nothing like my father. She is beautiful like my mother was and strong willed. But Fallon has always more determined than any of my sisters. She was discontent with settling for the average life my mother had planned for her. Even she knew she was meant for more." Rowan paused then and his adoration of his sister faded from his eyes, replaced then with disappointment. "But even as a young age I knew there was something different about her. Mother never doted on Fallon the way she did with Albertha and Elsbeth. She stayed quite distant for years."

"Fallon said she admired her mother," Robb told him and Rowan raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps she did. Fallon was very private about her thoughts on our parents growing up. Our father gave her the attention my mother deprived her of. Fallon never understood what she had done wrong. She thought perhaps it was the Nighean title that made her so different. But when my father came to Westeros, just before he was arrested for treason, something happened. He wouldn't tell us what, but I knew it had something to do with my sister. All the lies, all the covering up, I knew all of a sudden there must have been a reason Fallon was treated so differently. Ostracized by my mother, sheltered by my father. And then suddenly I knew."

"You don't think-" Robb started and then took a breath. "You don't think she was a bastard, do you?" he asked, having trouble saying the word. Rowan looked away.

"I could never imagine my mother not loyal to my father. But-" Rowan whispered. "Yes," she said then, his voice staggering slightly. "I think Fallon is not my father's daughter."

"Then why make her the Nighean?"

"Because my father loved her, above his other daughters. I think perhaps he was angry when my mother bore him another man's bastard. But I think the moment he laid eyes on her something changed."

"So now the question remains," Robb said, lost in his thoughts. "Who's secret would your father face a beheading for? If Fallon has anything to do with why your father was arrested for treason, then perhaps someone learned the same secret he did."

"My father could have sent me, or Corran to live with your family but he chose Fallon for a reason. No Nighean has ever been denied the tradition of the games. Someone not only knew she was not the trueborn daughter of Magnar, but they knew who her real father was as well. And he sent her to your family because he knew she would be safe. Stark and Magnar may not be friends historically, but we all know the honor of your father and now you."

"Do you think she knows, about her birth?" Robb asked and Rowan shrugged.

"She is my sister, no matter who fathered her. That is enough for me but I don't think it would be enough for Fallon. She lives her life based on her duty to our homeland. If that were taken from her, I am sure you would know."

Robb looked at Rowan in the dark. He could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke his words and knew it was hard for him to admit. Fallon had once said that in Skagos, bastard children were always legitimized by their fathers. She had once said she would accept any illegitimate children her father brought into the family.

But perhaps she never considered that she, herself, was a child of adultery.

[Aedan]

Everywhere the sound of celebration filled the night. The Young Wolf had won another victory for the North and for the Riverlands, freeing Riverrun from the holds of the Lannisters and back into the hands of his uncle. The Battle of the Camps, they had dubbed it and what a battle it had been.

The snow was still fresh with blood on the field and Aedan could still hear the screams of the men. He had always thrived in battle. He lived for the rush in his veins as he raced towards someone with his heavy sword in hand. He and most of the Skagosi men had joined Stark's vanguard for the fight. Rowan had finally convinced both the wolf and Broden to let Fallon take her rightful place in battle.

And she was breathtaking.

Long after he'd first met Fallon that fateful day by the river, he had finally admitted to his family his affection for the younger girl. Of course his family wasn't surprised, Enat least of all who had laughed and said nothing had ever been more obvious. But his mother had voiced her disappointment. She wanted much more for Aedan who was the elder of the Friel sons. Melot was Fallon's age, a spirit much like his and a lust for battle.

Trysa Friel did not like that her son was so infatuated with the Nighean of House Magnar. She thought Fallon was a silly girl, too full of passion and spirit. "She'll never be tamed," she'd told him in anger what evening when she'd had too much to drink. Bard had of course silenced her with his hand.

But Aedan had disagreed, finding Fallon's passion to be one of her many amiable qualities. He'd spent days with her, wandering the lands and stealing her kisses. And when he'd taken her to bed for the first time, he'd known she was to be his. It was what made it so difficult when her father offered him Elsbeth's hand.

Elsbeth was a beautiful young woman, two years Fallon's senior. She had long light brown hair that contrasted the blackness of Fallon's. Elsbeth had a calm and quiet demeanor whilst Fallon loved to laugh. There was no contest for Aedan. Fallon was plainer, but she was the one he wanted as his wife. And she had given it up because it was her duty and since had all but pushed him from her life.

But on the battlefield it was as if all was forgotten.

She fought with the same passion he remembered back in Skagos. Her sword and spear did not rest until the battle was over. Her fierceness was infectious, causing the Skagosi men to feel as powerful as they did back home, once more. Rowan too smiled as his sister rode into the thickest part of the fight, ignoring Robb's shouts in protest. Aedan had laughed at the Young Wolf who tried to tame her with his commands, the worry in his eyes showing he did not yet trust the woman he claimed to love to do what she was born to do. She was small and not as powerful in battle as perhaps Dacey Mormont. But she was swift in her movements and always kept the advantage with her height.

Even the Stark's beast of a direwolf ran with ferocity by his master's side, ripping and tearing as he saw fit, fighting for both the taste of flesh and his master's safety. Once, Aedan had even seen him take down a bull of a man who pulled Fallon up by her hair. Not a second was wasted before the beast tore the man's arm from his shoulder.

She had quickly then ran towards Robb, guarding him from any attacks that came from behind. That had made Aedan frown, seeing his Fallon take up the position she had once given him. The Nighean protected her men, specifically the commander of the flank. Stark commanded the flank with Broden and the Greatjon and Fallon never left his side, slicing down any man who came near him.

The Greatjon had given a hearty laugh when the battle was over, lifting her into the air in great amusement over her success. Even the Young Wolf had embraced her with a smile, calling the battle a great success thanks to her skill with that spear of hers.

Not once did she turn to Aedan. It was the first time they'd fought together that she hadn't run to him with a kiss to celebrate their victory.

Now she walked through camp, her trousers filthy and her face stained with dried blood. But she did it all with a wide grin. Aedan followed, many steps behind as he watched her, careful to quiet his steps, to stay far enough behind that the sound of his boots in the snow would not draw her attention. The direction she walked was one he'd seen her take many times before, the route would eventually end at the tent of Robb Stark and she'd share his bed just as she had the night before.

It infuriated him, the thought of the boy's hands on his woman, the woman he had fought for and would die for should she should wish it. She had a ridiculous grin on her face as she approached the tent and slowly walked through the flap. She disappeared behind the fabric and Aedan stood outside, watching as a candle was lit. He could see the outline of her body, her hands raised a she pulled the tunic over her head and tossed it to the ground. Bending forward, she pulled the trousers down her legs and Aedan felt his breath quicken at every movement.

He saw her turn, and several moments later he saw the outline of a male. Aedan's gloved hands were now balled into fists, one clenched against his side where his sword was still holstered to his hip. Stark grabbed her then, pushing her down onto the ground and the figures were lost in a blur of a shadow. Aedan frowned at the forcefulness of the action. Fallon had never been one for violence, especially when it came to love making.

He was ready to walk away then, find a bottle of whiskey and drink himself into an angry stupor when he heard her muffled cry turn into a shout. Aedan wasted only a minute before running towards the tent, bursting through the flaps to see her on the ground, sitting atop the man in a thin garment that she wore beneath her battle clothes. But the man she was straddling, her knife to his throat was not Robb Stark, but Aenys Frey, all six feet of him.

Aedan lowered his sword then as he looked at her in surprise.

"I thought-" Aedan said but the look she gave him silenced whatever he was going to say next. Was he going to admit that he had hoped it was Stark? That he had hoped he'd get the chance to show her she was wrong?

She looked back down at the man she was to wed, the man who was as old as his uncle Dearg in his many years.

"You will leave," she whispered to the man. "You will not touch me again."

"You are to be my wife you little cu-" the man didn't finish before she slapped him and he rolled on top of her, subduing her weak frame with his large body. Aedan ran to him and forced him off of her, holding a sword under his chin.

"Aedan don't," she whispered quickly.

"You ask me to let him live?" he asked angrily. "After what he was going to do to you?"

"If you kill him, his family will withdraw from this war," she said, her voice hoarse.

Aedan looked down at the older man who was now smirking up at him because he knew she was right. Aedan too knew she was right. But his hands had been on her. Betrothed or not the man would not put his hands on her. So he pulled back and let his fist collide with the man's face and dragged him from the tent, throwing him out into the snow.

"You're making a grave mistake, boy," Aenys said harshly. He stood slowly, holding his face and walked away. Aedan knew then that he had won.

He turned back to Fallon who was now pulling on a robe over her exposed body. She stepped slowly towards the table where she grabbed a goblet and pulled it to her lips. she didn't glance at him for several minutes as she stared into the cup.

"Lonnie," he whispered and she closed her eyes.

"You should go too," she said, her eyes still closed. He stepped towards her but she took a step back. "Aedan." Her voice sounds as though she were in pain.

"Don't do this to me," he whispered, pulling her towards him. She kept her eyes away from his. "Don't push me away like I'm that Stark of yours."

"Don't pretend like you know him," she said, her eyes finally meeting his. "You don't know anything about him."

"I know he's not here," he said angrily. "I know he wasn't here to help you, but I was."

"If you hadn't walked in I'd have taken care of him myself," she hissed. "Robb will be here soon, which is why you need to go."

"Lonnie," he said again and she slapped him.

"Don't!" she shouted. "Don't call me that!"

The anger in her voice surprised him as she struggled away from him, pushing against him with more force than he would have expected but he held her there, his strength greater than hers, especially her weakened body, tired from the fighting.

"What is wrong with you?!" he said, his voice now raised as well. "What happened to us?"

Their bodies were close then as he held her tight and he placed his hand against her face. Her face was still covered in dried blood, the vibrancy off her eyes calming his beating chest. But it was the look in her eyes that was no longer that familiar kindness he knew so well. It was replaced with something else.

"Do you feel nothing for me?" he asked her and she sighed, pulling her hand to her throat as she massaged it lightly in her fingers to reduce the swelling that he could see rising by the way she swallowed with difficulty.

"What I feel for you, Aedan, is love," she whispered and he felt a flutter of hope before she held her hand up to stay his mouth that then lowered towards hers. "But no longer the love I once felt," she admitted and he felt his own throat begin to tighten. "Things are different now."

"Now you love him?" he asked.

Her eyes no longer faltered, but instead were steady as she looked up at him.

"Yes. I love him," she said firmly and he laughed.

"And you think this will end well?" he asked. "You and the Young Wolf are bound for tragedy. You've given both of your fates to House Frey. How long do you think this will last?"

"I have done what I must in order to help him save his family."

"And what about your family?!" he shouted. "You have a responsibility, or have you forgotten?"

"What family?!" she yelled back, pushing him off of her. "I have Rowan and Broden now. Albertha's gone and you-" she said, her chest heaving angrily. "You let the others die."

His eyes widened then as she spoke.

"I have no responsibilities to Skagos anymore," she said, her voice strained. "I am not the Nighean, and I never was. But you already knew that."

"Who told you," he whispered and she averted her gaze to the floor.

"Does it matter?"

"Broden said he wasn't going to tell you," he said. "Lonnie I was going to tell you, but he forbid me from it. Your father didn't want you to know that you weren't a Magnar. But can't you see? Can't you see that means we can be together? You don't have to-"

At her expression then he knew he'd said too much. Whatever she knew it was not the whole truth and he had just said the words that had caused her to look as though he had stabbed her through the chest. She began shaking now and only shoved his hands away when he tried to comfort her.

"Fallon," he said carefully and she was shaking her head.

"No," was all she said in reply.

"But I thought-"

"You thought wrong. This thing, this part of me that felt for you, it's-" she whispered, her hands grabbing onto the chair dear the desk in order to keep her stead. "I've changed, why can't you see that?"

"It's not you that's changed," he tried to tell her.

"Yes it is," she said quietly, desperately. "I am no longer that wide-eyed little girl you found by the river. I am not the girl that fell for your sweet words and promises of an adventurous life. She's gone, dead. This new me is not so naive."

"She's still there, Lonnie, you just have to fight for her," he argued.

"Everyone has seen that I am a new person, that I've grown from that girl into a woman."

"Of course you've grown, we all have."

"No!" she yelled. "You are not listening. I am not her. I am Fallon, a...a bastard child. I was never meant to be that girl. And you and I, we were never meant to be together."

"But you were meant to be with him?" he asked bitterly, feeling his rage begin to build.

"I don't know who I am meant for, if anyone. But I know this here, us, it has long passed."

"I can change," he begged but she shook her head.

"I don't want you to change Aedan. You are a good man, and I love you for that. I will never stop loving you for the life you have given me. But my heart, I've given it to Robb."

She turned away from him then and she didn't look back. Aedan tried several times to speak but no words seemed to form as he moved his lips. He watched her move towards a trunk and pull out something he didn't notice, some sort of cloth he assumed. But not once did she look back at him and suddenly, as if the wool had been pulled from his eyes, he saw the change that she spoke of. The old Fallon would have never let him stand there, his eyes full of the heartbreak he felt. The old Fallon would have never said the harsh words she'd said.

She would have never fallen out of love with him.

But here she was, this woman he no longer seemed to recognize and he felt the sudden urge to flee. His eyes took in her features, her black hair falling down her back as she pulled it from the ribbon holding it back. Her green eyes caught his once more as she looked back over his shoulder and he thought he might object once more before he saw the finality in her gaze. And then it was decided.

"So be it." he said, his voice stern and angry as he turned away, walking out of the tent and into the cold night.

He wasn't sure how long he walked until he reached the camp, but he knew what he sought out and it was something that would remove him from his visions of the raven-haired beauty and her green eyes from hell.

[Fallon]

She knew the excitement was winding down as the flap door opened. She saw his eyes pause on her form as she sat there, looking up at him from the steaming bath. The candlestick was melted low,leaving only a few still lit on the desk nearby as she sat there, pulling her fingertips through her long hair as he approached her slowly.

"You're awake," he said, not a question but an observation as he removed his cloak and then his gloves, letting them fall to the ground with his eyes still locked on hers.

"And you, My Lord, have been drinking," she whispered with as much playfulness as she could muster, lowering her chin to keep him from seeing the redness in her eyes.

The steam rose around her as she watched him, removing his vest, then his gloves, his belt with his holster, lying it all to the side so that he was only in his tunic and trousers. His boots came next followed by his tunic and Fallon couldn't help but feel her breath catch at the sight of his exposed chest, covered in a thin layer of sweat that glistened in the flickering candlelight.

If her heart wasn't already racing, it was now beating out of her chest as he pulled down his trousers, leaving a very nude and very exquisite Robb Stark in their place. Fallon was sure she'd never a seen a more perfect human being in all of her life. The way he looked at her caused the little hairs on the back of her neck to stand tall.

"May I join you, My Lady?" he asked, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper that made Fallon tremble in a way she had not known possible.

She could barely nod her head as he then approached and she moved where he could then climb in behind her, the small tub nearly overflowing with the both of them displacing so much of it. But her only thought was on his hands as he pulled her between his legs and her back was pressed lightly to his chest. The feeling of her hot flesh against his, contrasting as cold caused her to sigh, and she felt herself relax into his body. They molded into one another, just lying there together for several moments, finding the exact spot that made them fit together so easily before she felt his fingers twine with her own.

There was an ache in her throat, as she closed her eyes and imagined they were somewhere else, somewhere that she didn't have to lie to his squire and say that his master would have a whore from the village in his bed that night, that they shouldn't be disturbed. Somewhere they could hold hands like this where everyone could see.

"You fought well today, my love," he whispered in her ear and she felt chills appear across her skin. He kissed the soft flesh of her shoulder, leaving a trail with his lips until they reached the top of her neck. She felt him laugh then, a small laugh that made her sign with comfort. "I never thought I'd say that."

"I was happy, fighting by your side," she whispered, toying with the hair on his knee that stuck out of the water, exposed to the cold. "I should like to do it again."

"I can't see how I can stop you now that you've got a taste for it," he said, the laughter in his voice brief before he sighed against her hair.

She turned to look at him and he pushed her hair from her face, kissing her forehead. She frowned.

"What plagues you?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Nothing," he said after a long, contemplative pause. She could see in his eyes that there was something he wanted to say, something on his mind that he wanted to entrust her with but for some reason the words never left his lips.

She kissed the side of his mouth, the side that he favored when he smiled, for a short moment before turning back to lay against him. His hands moved over her skin with the lightest of touches, tracing the flesh of her calf, back and forth, back and forth as he stared off into the distance.

Fallon realized that while something bothered him, she hadn't felt this at ease in days. No words needed to be said to comfort her, only the feeling of his body so near was enough to make her feel safe, wanted. Loved.

She loved this man, her heart told her so with the way it swelled every time he entered a room. While her mind was still on the words Aedan had said, on the revelation she had just stumbled upon. Her family was not her own, not fully anyways and deep down she began to wonder if she always knew it. Somehow, despite the acceptance her people offered her, she always felt as if she didn't quite belong somehow. Since she'd found out she wondered what Robb would think of such a notion, if it were even the truth.

"Mo Faol?" she whispered into the silence and she felt him lift his head as if he was snapping out of a trance.

"Yes, Mo Gra," he said and she felt her heart dance at his words.

His voice was tired, his breath warm on her ear and the words suddenly didn't seem as important as this was right now. She laid her head back against his chest, pushing herself lower into the water and she was engulfed by the warmth of it as she closed her eyes, squeezing his hand.

"Nothing," she replied then.

It didn't seem as important then as perhaps it was. Fallon knew she would have to talk to him sooner rather than later but for now she wanted this. She was tired of crying, of fighting, of pushing people away. Right now all she wanted was this man and she thought, perhaps, tomorrow she'd say what was on her mind.

Tomorrow she would face the world as whatever broken thing she was. A bastard. A fiance to that monster Frey. But until then she would embrace the only thing that mattered to her.

Until then. She was his.