Crossing the bridge took longer than I would've expected. The river was wide, but it was beautiful. Normally, Theon and I would've been bantering and joking, but we weren't talking at all. We stayed as far away from each other as we could. I was also avoiding Robb again.

"Aren't you that Greyjoy girl?" the older man by my side asked. I turned to look at him as I walked and nodded.

He held out his hand, smiling. "I'm Carl of House Cerwyn. Pleasure to meet you."

My eyes widened. "Wait... House Cerwyn?" I instantly thought of Brad. "Do you know Bradford?"

Carl's smile grew wider. "Of course. He is my son." I gasped, but he kept talking. "He and I don't have a very close relationship, but he sent me a raven about you. He married your best friend, did he not?"

"I... yes," I replied, still stunned at the revelation. "Ser, I would like to thank you for all the times your son has saved mine and my best friend's lives. He's an honorable man."

Carl scoffed. "Then why isn't he here, fighting by Robb's side?" I didn't respond, so he just kept going. "I'm willing to die for Robb. I don't care who is left behind; life is meaningless, anyway. I'm here because I have a duty to be here, and so does my son."

"Yes, but with all do respect, his wife is pregnant," I argued. "He doesn't want to leave her behind."

"He should've thought of that before becoming a knight," Carl said with a shrug. "I don't blame you at all. You're here, you're fighting." He looked me up and down. "Where's your sword?"

I pulled out my dagger. "I only use this. Swords are too heavy. They take up too much space. I can't be as quick with a sword as I can with my dagger," I explained.

Carl shook his head disapprovingly. "Rule number one: never bring a knife to a sword fight. You'll get slaughtered." He pulled his sword out from its sheath and handed it to me. "You're strong enough to hold this. Don't say it's too heavy. That's a terrible excuse."

I transferred my dagger to my left hand, which felt extremely awkward, and took the sword with my right hand. Carl was right - I was strong enough. It was heavy, but I could handle it.

Carl watched me hold it and clicked his tongue a few times. "When we make camp for the night, come find me. We'll do a last-minute training session before the battle." He held his hand out for the sword.

I handed the hilt to him. "I don't have a sword of my own," I confessed, putting my dagger away. "I haven't used one since my father and sister made me."

"I have plenty of spares," Carl replied, sheathing the blade and continuing to walk across the bridge. "I'm sure your brother does, too."

I rolled my eyes. "My brother's an idiot," I muttered under my breath.

"He's stubborn," Carl said. "So are you. Suck it up." He looked down at me as we finally got off the bridge. "Deal with your problems instead of running away from them."

I crossed my arms and looked away. "Are you talking about Robb now?"

"I am," he responded. "Do you really love him, or were you just saying that?" His eyes bore into me.

I looked down. "I... I don't know," I admitted, my cheeks flushing red. "It's complicated."

"Aye, it's always complicated," Carl agreed sarcastically. "You know what's complicated? Your son getting married to some bastard without telling you." My fists clenched at the word bastard, but he either didn't notice or just didn't care. "You know what else is complicated?" he asked, not waiting for a response. "Him getting her pregnant like some whore he picked up off the street. Didn't he tell you what happened last time he got someone pregnant?"

I stared at Carl, in shock at his words. "No, he didn't tell me he was a father," I finally said.

"He's not," Carl replied. This made me look up at him fully. He kept talking. "She was a whore, but I think he may have loved her. She and her baby both died in childbirth. He tried to kill himself, but..." Carl shrugged, almost indifferently. "He's alive."

I couldn't believe what he was saying to me. I was in complete shock. My breath hitched in my throat, and I had no idea what to say. I tried to picture Brad in my mind, going through all that, but I couldn't. I shook it out of my head.

When I looked back up at Carl, he was looking at me. "Did I scare you, girl?" he asked in a slightly amused tone. "That's just how the world works. It's a tough lesson to learn, but not everything has a happy ending."

I shook my head and finally got enough breath to speak. "No, you didn't scare me," I replied. "I know how cruel the world is, because my best friend, the sweetest girl I've ever met, is a bastard. She's criticized for it every day. Every day of her life, she's discriminated against and teased and bullied, and for what? Just because her parents weren't married?" I scoffed. "It's awful."

"That's not even close to what my son and I have been through," Carl said firmly, stopping and facing me. "I'm an old man. I've seen things that nobody else has ever seen. I've ventured beyond the Wall, traveled the seas of Braavos, been a prisoner at Harrenhal, been seduced by a red priestess, been cursed by Grayscale." He pulled up his sleeve to show me his wrist, which was almost completely infected by now. "Don't touch it," he warned.

I stared at him in awe. "W-wait... when did you get that?" I asked quickly. "Is there a cure?"

"Three fortnights ago," Carl replied. "No cure."

I opened my mouth to apologize, but he was quicker than me. "Allison," he said. "I'm going to die either way. I'd rather die in battle than from Grayscale."

I stared at him in shock. I knew where he was coming from, but hearing him say all of this was crazy.

"That's my point," Carl continued. "We're all going to die eventually. The only difference is, my son will not die with honor."

I looked into Carl's eyes and saw the disappointment in them. I sighed and gazed at my feet, not knowing what to say or do.

"We should keep moving," I said after a moment of thinking. It was the only thing left to say. Most of Robb's bannermen were ahead of us now.

Carl shrugged and spun around on his heel, walking quickly away from me. "See you tomorrow."

I barely had time to process anything before Theon tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at him, and we started to walk together without a word. We didn't need to say anything. I knew I was forgiven, and so was he.

Once we had marched to a safe place, we set up camp for the night. Theon and I had tents that were right next to each other. I looked for Carl that night, but I couldn't find him anywhere.

"Get some rest," Theon said, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Tomorrow's the battle." He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his tent. When I protested, he shushed me. "This is yours."

I followed where his finger was pointing to a set of armor. My breath caught in my throat. Women's armor.

"Carl said he would get you a sword, did he not?" Theon asked. I nodded. Theon started to dismantle the armor. "Then this is yours. Take it back to your tent, get some rest, and meet us outside for training in seven hours. Don't be late." He tossed me the helmet, which I easily caught, and helped me carry the rest of the armor to my tent.

"Thank you," I said with a small smile. Theon nodded and twisted his hands together worriedly. I rolled my eyes. "I'll be fine and you know it."

"I hope it," Theon replied, chuckling nervously. He awkwardly patted me on the back before leaving my tent. I could tell he was worried, but what did he have to be worried about? I beat most of Robb's bannermen when I sparred with them, so if I died, so would they.

Fear struck through me. That wasn't a comforting thought.

I had a bit of trouble sleeping that night. Although I'd done a lot of sparring with Robb's bannermen, and training with Yara on the Iron Islands, I was nervous for the battle. I was even nervous for my training session with Carl. I tossed and turned all night.

When I woke up, I felt drowsy. I knew it was probably about time to meet Carl and Theon for training. So, I started to put on my armor. It felt awkward and stiff. I couldn't move nearly as quickly as I wanted to, but I knew it would protect me. It was hot and stuffy, though, and very uncomfortable. I stepped out of the tent and put on my helmet.

Theon found me immediately. He was wearing some armor of his own. "You look good," he complimented, but his facial expression was sad.

I walked up to him. "Theon, I'm going to be fine," I reassured him. "I know you're worried, but-"

"That's not it," Theon interrupted me. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Robb sent two thousand of his bannermen to meet Tywin's forces... as a distraction." He reluctantly handed me the paper.

I opened it up, and as I read it, my eyes brimmed with tears:

Allison,
We have only had one conversation, but I can already tell that you are a true warrior. I regret that I did not get a chance to train with you. Tell my son that I'm not disappointed in him, and although I disagree with his choices, I understand. Tell him that I love him. And by the gods, don't die out there like I did.
- Ser Carl Cerwyn

I rolled the paper back up, playing with it in my hands as I let the tears fall. I don't know why I was so emotional about a man I'd had one conversation with, but it broke my heart. I handed the paper back to my brother.

"He was an eager volunteer," Theon said sadly, taking the paper back. "He knew he was marching to his death, but he did it anyway."

"That sounds like Carl," I tried to joke, wiping my eyes. Theon smiled sadly and put an arm around me. I wished I could truly feel his comfort, but I was wearing armor. My mental armor was broken, but my physical armor was in tact.

"He... he also left you one of his swords," Theon told me, unsheathing the one on his right. He handed me the sheath and the sword. I took it, sighing loudly as I looked up at the sky.

"Thank you," I whispered. Whether I was saying it to Theon or to the gods, I don't know. I sheathed it and rested it on my left hip so I could pull it out with my right hand.

"You overslept," Theon informed me after a moment of silence. "The battle is about to start."

My head snapped up to him. "Why didn't you wake me?" I looked around the camp, but most of his bannermen were gone. "Theon, we have to go!"

"Then let's go," Theon said, speed-walking in the direction of Robb's bannermen. The battle wasn't far from where we'd set up camp, but the whole way there, I was terrified. Why was I suddenly so scared?

Once we finally arrived, Theon looked directly at me. "Don't be afraid," he coaxed softly. "What is dead may never die."

I crossed my heart. "What is dead may never die," I repeated.

And then, the battle started.

It had been forever since I'd been in a battle. Losing focus for even a split second would result in certain death. I drew my weapons and prepared to fight.

Swords clashed. Blood spilled. Men fell to the ground, some screaming, some praying to the gods.

Every time I killed one enemy, it seemed like two more appeared in their place. My sword cut through their flesh, soaking itself in blood. I was stabbing, slashing, and cutting at every Lannister fighter I saw.

But it seemed to be a losing battle, at least for me. I hadn't used a sword in a long time, and it was getting harder and harder to hold with each passing second. My arm ached, and I was suddenly exhausted. I realized I hadn't eaten anything before the battle, which probably contributed to my lack of energy.

Men's voices shouted all around me, but I was starting to slip out of focus. I was so tired, so ready to give up. Maybe Carl was right - all men must die. If I were to die here, in battle, at least I would be remembered.

But that's when I turned my head to the side, and I saw my brother cutting down every man that came for him. He was fighting so hard. He had so much strength, so much determination, so much passion to win. As I took a deep breath, I found an internal strength that gave me power and energy.

I was about to let out a war cry to regain my strength, but I let out an actual cry. In the time I'd been watching Theon, I'd been stabbed through my armor in the stomach. I gasped and fell to the ground, clutching the wound. Everyone ignored me, probably figuring I would die from my injury.

They were probably right.

Losing focus for even a split second would result in certain death. And I'd lost focus.

So, as I closed my eyes, I accepted my fate, my head falling limp on the floor.