Cassana

Weeks pass in the camp, a dozen letters written to the lords of the Stormlands calling my banners with none returned. Weeks with battles and bloodshed, but none of us could have been prepared for the news we receive. The news Theon has taken Winterfell.

I stand next to Robb looking over his shoulder as he reads the letter. Slowly he looks up and says to Lord Bolton. "This cannot be true."

"We've had Ravens from White Harbour, Barrowtown, and the Dreadfort," he says and I watch Robb carefully. "I'm afraid it is true."

"Why?" he asks in disbelief. "Why would Theon-"

"Because the Greyjoy's are treasonous whores," Lord Bolton interrupts as I rest my hand on his shoulder, trying to give what comfort I can in a room full of his lords.

"My brothers?"

"We've heard nothing of them," he answers and I can feel Robb tense. "But Rodrick Cassel is dead."

Catelyn's mouth falls open while Robb begins to lose his composure. Her voice shakes as she scolds "I told you, never trust a Greyjoy!"

Robb's silent, and I can feel anger rising in him as he comes to his feet. "I must go north at once."

"There's still a war to win your grace-"

"How can I call myself king if I can't hold my own castle?" Robb yells and I quickly come to his side to calm him for the sake of his appearance more than anything. "How can I ask men to follow me if I can't-"

"You are a king," Roose says, a reminder that makes Robb compose himself. "And that means you don't have to do everything yourself."

Before I can get a word in Catelyn volunteers "Let me go and talk to Theon-"

"There will be no more talk, he will die for this," Robb quickly decides and I've never seen him so furious but he's been betrayed by someone he loves, someone that was family. I understand his anger. I understand better than any man in this room could.

"Theon holds the castle with a skeleton crew," Roose informs us. "Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort, he can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon."

"Is your bastard capable of leading such an attack?" I question, Robb looking to Roose for an answer. "The lives of the Kings brothers are at stake."

"More capable than Theon is at holding Winterfell," he dismisses with a glance. "We have the Lannisters on the run, if you march all the way back North you'll lose what you gained."

My mind ticks over as it always does in a situation like this, assessing everything strategy, every outcome, every variable. The plan is sound, the numbers are on our side but I do not know the bastard, therefore I can't trust him. Even so, it's the best option we have.

"And when Winterfell is retaken?" I ask knowing that reinforcements will be necessary against further Ironborn attacks. "What then?"

"My boy will be honoured to bring the king Theon's head."

Robb's quiet for a moment, thinking carefully about this. "Tell your son that Bran and Rickon's safety is paramount."

I glance at Catelyn knowing the love she bears for her sons, she's barely able to hide the fear that must plague her.

"And Theon," Robb continues, his voice commanding the absolute attention and obedience of everyone in the room. "I want him brought to me alive. I want to look him in the eye and ask him why. And then I'll take his head myself."

He's the image of strength, but I know better, which is why I'm the one to dismiss the lords. "That will be all now, Lord Bolton see to it that your son retakes Winterfell as quickly and as bloodlessly as possible."

He nods, being the first to leave, the rest of the lords following until finally Catelyn looks to me standing there by Robb's side before leaving as well.

When they are gone he falls back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. I bring him a cup of ale which he gladly accepts, drowning it in one go. I'm quiet as he presses his lips together and shakes his head in anger.

"How could he?"

I rest my hand on his shoulder and feel the cool armour beneath my finger tips. "Theon may have been a brother to you but that doesn't change what he was, a ward. Even then that's a kind word for it."

"But he wasn't," he argues. "I took him as a brother, I-"

"I'm not arguing with you my love, nor am I defending him," I say softly. "What I am saying is that he wasn't a Stark, and no matter how much you loved him surely he would have always been reminded of that, put in his place. Just as Jon was, Jon was a bastard and although you loved him no one else forgot what he was. The only difference is that Jon is your fathers son, Theon isn't. He is the son of Balon Greyjoy."

"I sent him there to make an alliance and he takes my home from me." His voice breaks "Did he always hate us?"

"No," I answer sitting myself on his thigh and stroking my fingers through his hair. "In Winterfell I could see the love he bore you, but it wasn't the same as what Jon did. You sent Theon to see his father, a man he was taken from when he was eight years old. As Robert Baratheons daughter I remember the war with the Greyjoys well. The Iron Born despise not just the Iron Throne, but all of us who look down upon them. Balon Greyjoy is not the type of man to serve the eighteen year old son of his enemy. It was wise of you to try to make that alliance, but not even hate for the throne can bend the Iron Born."

"Wise?" he scoffs. "I should never have sent Theon, I should have left the Iron Born alone or sent an army."

"No, you didn't make a mistake," I say quietly. "Chances are the Iron Born invasion wasn't Theon's doing. He may have led it but do you honestly think he came up with that on his own? That he pitched the idea to his father?"

He takes a moment to think before shaking his head and swallowing.

"The Iron Born are bitter, vengeful people. Chances are they've been waiting for the perfect time to invade. What better time than an undefended North and what better leader than a Greyjoy who knows the North? A time comes in every child's life when they must choose, do they follow the path their parents lay out for them and prove themselves, or do they refuse? He chose his father."

"I trusted him," he says again, his voice shaking with anger and pain. "And he betrayed me."

"And he will die for it," I promise him and while he certainly wants to kill him, I know he's hesitant. "Do you think you could do it? Look him in the eye, and then take his head?"

I can see him asking himself that very question. Robb is a soldier, but to order someone's death is something different entirely. Especially when you are ordering the death of someone you loved.

"He betrayed me," he says again coldly but his voice is filled with the fire that can only come with betrayal. "If he hurts Bran and Rickon-"

"He won't," I try to assure him. "Surely he can't be stupid enough to harm two of Winterfell's sons?"

"You'd be surprised," he says and I have to remind myself that Theon isn't the type to think clearly. "If he does-"

"If he has half a brain he'll keep them as hostages."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" he asks incredulously and I stroke his cheek.

"It means that they'll be safe."

He still says "I'm going to kill him."

He should kill him, I would, but he won't. He doesn't have the heart to kill a brother, no matter what Theon has done. When it comes to it I'll suggest we keep Theon as a hostage. But that time is yet to come.

"Then he'll die," I say kissing his cheek. "But first we will bring your brothers home, and your sisters. This war will all be for nothing if they are not brought home."

"My lords seem to think otherwise," he says heavily. "Winterfell has its lord, they don't see any purpose in wasting men for two girls."

"They aren't just girls," I remind him. "They are your heirs as much as Bran and Rickon."

He's silent before saying "Bring me a piece of parchment."

"Robb?" I ask as he stands with a new determination in his eyes.

"They could already be dead," he says, voice wavering but face strong. "I am the king, and I need to ensure my succession." He reaches for the parchment and quill himself. "I need you as witness."

I nod despite my confusion confused. "What are you writing?"

He doesn't answer me, he just begins writing on the parchment, signing his name before sliding it to me to sign as witness.

If I am to die without heirs I legitimise and name my brother Jon Snow as Jon Stark, The King in the North.

He looks at me expectantly, expecting me to have some sort of opinion, it's the first he's mentioned Jon to me since our fights. I'm confused as to why he is asking me to sign as witness, why he looks to me for approval.

"Robb," I begin, a heaviness settling over me. "For Jon to be your heir Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, they'd all have to be dead."

"One sister is betrothed to Joffrey, the other has been missing for almost a year, and now my brothers could be dead." The pain in his eyes makes me ill, the pain of a man having to make a decision a man should never have to make. "Jon might just be the last Stark standing if I fall in battle." I look down at the parchment until he says "If I leave you a widow you might be the only one I can trust to ensure he is made king."

He trusts his lords with his life, but he knows somewhere deep down if he falls many will not want a bastard made king in his place. 

I look at him, holding his eye as he repeats "If I die, it will be in your hands the future of the North and this war." The weeks we've spent in this camp, the sleepless nights I've spent waiting for him to return from battle have taught me as much. "You're a queen in your own right with or without me, and if I die you will still remain Queen in the North."

In the weeks I've been in his camp, I've never seen him carry the burden that comes with being a king until now. "As a wife I should say don't think like that, I should say believe they shall all survive this terrible war and we will have sons to carry on your line but I know better." It's then I realise that very fact is why he's confiding this in me. In the past weeks I've found myself as much a confidant and a counsellor as a wife, something even Catelyn has come to accept despite her hate for me. "This war is because my father's succession was not secure. I can name half a dozen wars fought for that very reason in Targaryen history and look at them now, their blood survives across the narrow sea wed to a warlord like cattle and thinly in me. I know better than to cling to hope and pray all will be well, your lords may be loyal but the aftermath of a kings death is always bloody with vultures coming to feast before their body is even cold." I was one myself once. "Everytime you leave camp I pray to the gods that you return, a girl who's never prayed to them looking up at the heavens with clutched hands, but if there comes a day you do not I swear to you Robb I will ensure the North does not fall, I will name Jon as king and drag him from that bloody wall myself if I have to."

This is the first time we've spoken of him there's been no jealousy, no tension. "I know you will, which is why I made you my queen. Not for an alliance or army, but so I would have you beside me fighting for the North." It's then something in his face changes. "Which is why Jon will need you also."

He speaks as if his fate is already written. "Robb-"

"If I die." His voice trembles, and he struggles to get the words out. "Marry him." The look in his eyes is one of a man putting his pride, his own heart aside, all for us. "He loves you, he won't refuse. If I die, be it tomorrow or years from now. Forgive his oath to the Night's Watch and marry him." He looks at me intently, no doubt seeing tears coming to my eyes. "So I can die knowing my wife will be loved, and my house will live on."

My throat is tight, guilt strangling me, but most of all the look in his eyes, a man who's in more pain than I've ever seen pleading with me to love again and continue living if he dies.

And so I swear to him "I will."

I take the quill from his hand and sign it, despite knowing a piece of paper means nothing in the end. If he dies there will be blood, but it will be mine to bear, not his.

~

Days later I stand by the hills outside camp, waiting impatiently for sight of Robb's horses, for any sight of him and his men returning from battle. Something that has become a familiar feeling of dread. I've not only become wife of a king but the wife of a soldier.

I remain silent as Catelyn comes to stand beside me, looking out at the horizon as well.

"When I saw you enter this camp I could have strangled you myself," she begins, not having dared approach me since I arrived. "I still could if not for one thing."

My voice is stiff. "And what is that?"

"Duty," she says and I look at her. "Family, duty, honour. My House motto, something I have lived by all my life. Since the moment I married Ned my duty was to him, his house and our children. Eventually it became one and the same. The same duty you now owe to Robb." She doesn't look at me, almost as if she does she'll regret the words. "Since you wed him you have remained true to that duty. Being a wife and a counsellor to him, one with surprising sense about the matters of war and politics."

"I am the daughter of a soldier Lady Stark," I remind her. "And the grandaughter of Tywin. I know the enemy better than any person alive. All the counsel I give to Robb is not without grounds."

"The enemy, being your family," she corrects. "You've proven enough that you have a treasonous streak in you, but if you love my son, which I believe you do, you will do your duty."

"He is all I have left in this world," I tell her, words that she did not expect. "I would never betray him, never again."

It's then we hear the thundering of hooves, and I stand there, a smile spreading across my face as I lay eyes on him. My husband. My love.

He almost jumps from his horse, opening his arms for me despite the blood that covers him, knowing I pay it no mind as I jump into them.

"We won," he tells me, wearing a grin as he kisses me.

"Of course you did," I say proudly. "That was never in doubt."

He removes his glove to take my head Hand in hand we walk back to camp to be met with celebration, a blur of excitement as he shakes the hands of his men and thanks his soldiers and lords, being greeted as not a king, but a friend by the men of the camp. My eyes remain on him, wide and adoring though it is not my intention, a queen should be seen as affectionate but not like this, not like a blatantly love struck doe eyed girl. But that is what he has made me.

"Will that be all Lord Bolton," Robb asks as they've finished discussing what to do with the prisoners of war and injured men.

"Yes your grace."

With that Robb pulls me inside our tent, lifting me up in his arms with blood pumping as it often does after a battle, eyes dark with a need to have me. Before we wed I told myself I'd take moon tea after these nights but somehow between Storms End and here I decided to put it in fates hands. Perhaps love has maddened me, because a child in the midst of war seems more like a blessing which each passing day than a curse.

~
The following day I stand there by his side, my hand wrapped around his arm as we receive my cousin Alton.

"Cousin," I say, surprised as he lays eyes on me.

"You- you look well," he stammers.

"Yes it's incredible what not being starved to death does for the body," I remark as Robb's lord's remain in an uncomfortable silence. "Now what did my mother say to my husbands demands?"

"She- she admires your spirit, your grace," he says to Robb.

"And what then?"

"She-" he stops, fearful, but Robb is anything but cruel.

"If every man were held accountable for the actions of every distant relative Ser Alton, we'd all hang," he says and I look at him in admiration. "My wife is the queen's daughter, I assure you that you are under her protection."

I nod in agreement and he says "She tore the paper up, your grace."

Robb inhales deeply but I'm unsurprised. "She did that when I gave her my fathers last will putting his true heir on the throne with the late Lord Stark as regent, she's no doubt perfected the art of it by now."

Somewhere there I hear Tyrion's voice in my own, and feel a surge of sadness in my chest.

"You've acted with honour," Robb says kindly. "I thank you for it." He looks to his lords. "Lord Karstark, see that Ser Alton's pen is clean and give him a hot supper."

"Ser Alton's pen is occupied, your grace," Karstark replies. "The prisoner's from the Yellow Fork."

"Too many prisoners," Bolton shrugs and Robb looks to me.

"My cousin has acted with honour, I ask you my lords that he be kept as a messenger and granted amnesty by the king." I look to Robb who nods approvingly and back to my cousin. "Cousin, you will be under my protection if you kneel to us."

But his lords don't like that. "He's a Lannister, he can't be trusted."

"The queen is showing kindness to a foe who has acted with great honour," Robb says, a hand on my back. "He should be given the chance to kneel to his rightful queen."

The men look to me and I look at Alton. "Cousin, should you kneel you will be treated well."

But he's more fearful of Tywin. "Forgive me your grace, but should I kneel Lord Tywin will have me executed as a traitor."

I nod in understanding and Robb decides "Have Ser Alton kept with the Kingslayer until a new pen can be built for him, have your boy look after him Lord Karstark."

"Thank you, your grace," Alton says to Robb and then to me. "Thank you for your kindness cousin."

"Should you change your mind we will speak again," I say and he nods before Karstark takes him away.

While Robb appreciates my counsel and bases strategy on it, I've taken after him in my leading, taken after his kindness and consideration, things I've never seen a king have until now.

Robb dismisses the council, although Roose lingers until a young field nurse comes.

"Your graces, may I have a moment of your time."

"Of course," I say inviting her in, Robb leaving her to me to speak with.

"I have been treating your wounded men."

"And my enemies," Robb mentions. "As some of my bannermen are fond of mentioning."

It's then I realise this is the nurse who has Bolton pissed off and I take a liking to her.

"They are not my enemies," she replies.

"That is what I tell my bannerman."

I step forward towards the nurse, a beautiful foreign girl maybe a little older than I am. "We have not met."

"My name is Talisa, your grace," she says politely, although slightly hesitantly as she looks at me, something that makes me like her more.

"Talisa," I repeat. "You are from the free cities."

"Yes, your grace," she says, the way she talks and the way she stands telling me she is someone of noble birth. "Volantis." Although she has little interest in chatting. "I've already run through my supplies I brought with me, some are easily replaced, egg yolks, serpentine, oil of roses..."

"What do you need?" I ask her as Robb listens.

"I need silk for stitching," she says, eyes falling to the fine dress I wear with disdain. "I need fennel root for those with fever, willow bark, mostly I need milk of the poppy."

I nod and tell her "Come with me, I may be some help."

She follows me out into the camp and to the tent I share with Robb.

"I've begun collecting my own stores of herbs," I tell her as we walk inside. "As a woman in a war camp I find myself out of my element, in Kings Landing I studied herbs and their properties for poisons and to remedy such things." She stares at me surprised. "It was a hostile place, and it seemed only sensible. You are free to look through what stores I have, Robb is riding to the Crag to negotiate a surrender and I will be sending a list with him, you are free to add to it."

She seems taken aback. "Thank you, your grace."

"Also it had not been brought to my attention there is a shortage of silk for stitching wounds," I say and ask "Help me out of this dress, I have another."

The corner of her lip turns up. "At once your grace."

"Call me Cassana," I tell her as she helps with the laces at the back. "Us women must stick together in places like this, especially when you have those bloody bannerman rambling on with their shit." I turn back to look at her, finding a possible friend in another woman those men don't like. "Tell me how a noble girl from Volantis came to be a Lannister war nurse."

~

Robb's preparing to leave for the Crag when I find him.

"You changed your dress," he notices at the sight of the other I wear, a simpler grey one as opposed to the one I'd arrived in made of silk.

"They need the silk more than I do," I answer and he wears a warm smile. "Let me come with you to the Crag."

He takes my hands in his. "They need you here at the camp."

"They'll survive for a day or two without me," I say, kissing his hands. "Must I watch you ride off without me once more?"

He chuckles. "You'd insist on being in the field beside me if I let you."

"Let me?" I repeat with a raised eyebrow and tease "You do not let me do anything, husband. I let myself."

"Yes, yes," he says sheepishly. "As you always remind me, wife." We laugh together and he cups my cheek. "I have thousands of soldiers, but only one wife. And this camp needs the strong brutal hand of the Storm Queen to keep it in order."

I laugh. "Brutal? Your men think I've gone soft by giving my cousin the choice to bend the knee."

"Well let them know you're the one in charge," he says, kissing my forehead. "I'll be back soon."

"You better be," I say, running a hand over his armoured chest. "The nights are terribly boring without you."

"Well you seem to have finally made a friend," he says, looking to Talisa in the distance. "My bannerman will have a fit."

"Good," I answer. "Let them." I stand up on my toes to kiss him. "Come home soon."

The look in his eyes every time he leaves melts me every time. "Always." He kisses me back, lips lingering as he tells me "I should return at dawn the day after tomorrow." 

"You better otherwise I'll ride out to find you," I warn, it wouldn't be the first time. "I love you."

"And I love you," he says, his forehead touching mine until he's called by Lord Bolton and I watch him leave on his horse with his army whilst I remain behind surrounded by lords who cannot stand me for the unfortunate matter of who my mother is.

To them I am not a Stark, not even a Baratheon, just Tywin Lannisters granddaughter. 

A lot of bastards not that I'd tell Robb that. But even Catelyn knows it.

~

I'm sitting in the tent Robb uses for his war meetings and that I use as an office, he likes to keep such matters out of the personal space we share. I look at the map on the table and to the Stormlands. Twelve houses, all I've written to, even the house of Stannis's wife, and yet no replies. It's not just strange, but impossible.

Now who would be a suspect, not the Umbers or the Karstarks, this isn't their type of sabotage, but there is one lord whose it could be.

I wait for the sun to set and the remaining men in camp to drink themselves into carelessness before donning my hood and entering through the back of Bolton's tent since he's off with Robb. Boltons. I've never been fond of their reputations and especially not of the man who's sent his bastard to retake Winterfell. But any proof of treason needs to be strong before I can make such accusations as a foreigner among Northerners.

With the tent drawn shut no one can see me as I use a candle to light the space and look through Bolton's letter satchel, finding only communications from the Dreadfort. He isn't a stupid man, he wouldn't leave anything dangerous in a place so obvious. 

And so I turn my head to where a book rests beneath his bed that piques my interest and smile, knowing that hiding place far too well. Quickly I reach for the book, opening it to find it hollowed out as I'd expected, and the inside filled with scrolls. It's the seals that catch my eye, all from the Stormlands. 

"You little fucker," I whisper as I snatch them out and place the book where I found it and shove the scrolls inside the deep pocket of my dress, but it's as I'm walking back to my tent I find chaos has broken out.

"What is the meaning of this?" I ask the men and get a variety of loud replies. "One at a time!"

It's Catelyn who runs forth with a pale face and wide eyes. "He's gone!"

"Robb?" I immediately reply from the horror on her face but she shakes her head.

"Thank the gods no, but your uncle is."

It takes a moment to dawn on me what she means and I curse out "That fucker." I immediately jump into action, marching for Lord Karstark. "Spare no men, find him and bring the fucker back alive!"

"I can't promise it will be alive," Karstark says and one of the soldiers approaches us.

"You'll want to see this, your grace."

He brings me over to Jaime's cage and my stomach churns at what I see, our cousins head bashed in with a bloody rock beside it. 

"Kinslayer," Karstark grumbles and something inside me goes cold and this sweet happy honeymoon period I've had abruptly ends. "Is that-"

I stumble backwards as Lord Karstark finds the body of his son butchered nearby in the darkness and never have I heard a man so enraged with grief.

Immediately the calls begin for justice, for revenge, it's maddening enough I have to scream for the men to hear me, scream for the men to silence themselves.

"Robb left me in charge, bring him back alive so the King will be able to take his head if he chooses," I order and the men just look at me blankly. "Is that understood!"

"Yes your grace."

They begin to scatter as I march towards my tent with Catelyn following.

"Where are you going?"

"To change into my riding clothes," I answer her. "I'm not letting him escape."

"Robb would not approve," she warns and I turn my head back to her as I enter my tent.

"If those men decide to be the ones who kill Jaime Lannister then everything goes to shit," I tell her, not caring as I begin to undress into my riding clothes and she stands there, as wound up as I am. "I know you think I'm a heartless whore but I'm not, I promised Robb I'd protect your daughters when I left for Kings Landing and I intend to keep my promise." I pause as pull my blouse over my head and finally confess to Catelyn. "I saw Sansa after Ned was killed, Joffrey dragged me before him to plead for mercy, saying I could be exiled if I did. I did it praying that Sansa would be brought with me out of that damn keep but Joffrey wouldn't let her go. I'd planned to smuggle her out before he sent his kingsguard to rape and kill me." She's pale as I turn back to her and say. "The daughter you get back will not be the same you lost, but I swear to you Catelyn, we will not give my brother further reason to torture her."

She can't find words, she only nods roughly as I pull on my boots and sheathe my sword. "Bring him back."

I nod, leaving her in charge before I leave for my horse, finding Lord Karstark wielding his sword, not taking even a moment to grieve, only out for blood.

Quietly I gather a group of Robb's own men from Winterfell.

"We are going to find him and bring him back alive, is that understood?"

"Yes your grace," they all reply, and follow me out of the camp to search the surrounding lands.

Hours pass and the darkness slowly begins to lift, leaving me half maddened with the cries for vengeance I can hear from miles away.

"Jaime!" I call out as the men's morale fades. "Jaime you fucker if you can hear me!" My voice is desperate. I was left in charge for just a few hours and the wars most important prisoner has escaped. Escaped and killed the son of a lord. "Please."

It's as we ride into camp come daybreak it becomes clear someone found him, just not us.

I can hardly see him amongst the crowd of men pushing him, and all he wears is a smirk.

The fucker.

He's just signed his death warrant.

"Enough!" I order amongst the calls for his death. "I said enough!"

But the men don't listen to me even as I draw my sword, but it's overshadowed by Karstark charging forth. "I want his head!"

Robb's own men draw their own swords, and what was a scuffle quickly becomes a standoff with two crowds of men, one enforcing the kings word and the other wanting blood.

"Any man who stands between a father and his vengeance asks for death!"

"Lord Kastark!" Catelyn yells as I force my way inbetween the two crowds of men. "He is the Kings prisoner!"

"He's a fucking Lannister like the kings whore!" he roars at me and Catelyn quickly comes to stand between us. "This monster killed my son!"

"And crippled mine!" Catelyn cries out, her voice shaking from anger. "He will answer for his crimes I promise you, but not here."

"I will have his head!" he fights. "If you try to stop me!"

"You will strike me down!" she challenges and her voice chills me to the core. "Have you forgotten me Ser? I am the widow of your liege lord Eddard Stark. I am the mother of your king!"

"And where is our king now?" he replies and I know the sound of a man about to commit a mutiny and so I step back, ordering Robb's men to draw their swords. "All he's done is run off to marry that Lannister whore and now leave her giving us commands!"

"She is your queen and the daughter of Robert Baratheon!" Catelyn fights, defending me. "As Robb is your king!"

Brienne draws her sword. "Threatening the queen and her lady mother is treason."

"Treason?" he scoffs, shaking with fury. "How can it be treason to kill Lannisters!" It's then Robb's men form a wall between Lord Karstark and I as paralysis takes over my body, remembering my last mutiny far too well. "Come on then, show yourself! Come and defend the fucker! Has he stuck it in you as well!"

And so I push through the men to face him with the tip of my sword at his throat. "I've killed men larger than you Lord Karstark and been accused of far worse so come on then, if you want to kill a Lannister I'm right here." I raise my chin, my voice strong and let my hair fall back to reveal the scar at my throat. "Far worse men than you have tried to kill me and ended up dead, so go on and explain to your king you gutted a woman who could be carrying Ned Starks grandson and the heir to the North."

 A lie, I haven't bled since Kings Landing, but they need not know. 

 It's then he sheathes his sword, voice dangerous. "When the king returns, I will demand this monsters head, but until then-" he grabs my wrist and orders his men. "Chain her, for all we know she helped him escape."

It's then I turn back to Catelyn, hugging her in a way that would seem innocent to the men before telling her "Bolton's committed treason, read the letters in my dress."

She's staring at me in horror as the men drag me away, a fight breaking out between those loyal to Robb and those out for blood and I can see the blood spilling as I'm tossed inside the stockade.

A prisoner once again.

Jaime's thrown in beside me, face down in the mud as they slam the door shut behind him, wrapping it in chains, but still he wears that stupid fucking smirk.

"Well thank you for defending me."

"You fucking idiot!" I snap at him, grabbing the rock beside me and beating him with it until there's blood and he's trying to fight me off. "Are you out of your fucking mind!"

"You try being a prisoner."

That's when I snap, unleashing what I became in the black cells. "I was a fucking prisoner! I was starved to near fucking death and tortured and beaten and humiliated! I spent months in those fucking cells so don't you dare talk to me about being a prisoner!" It's only then I realise the strength I've gained in the past weeks as I hear a crack while beating him bloody and he stares at me as I drop the rock to draw the knife I keep inside my boot and press the blade to his neck. "I could end this here and now."

"Then do it," he challenges, my hand shaking. "But you won't, because you know no matter what you tell yourself that the North will never accept you and the Starks aren't your family." I feel my face contorting as I try to keep myself from going mad. "You are a Lannister, you will always be a Lannister, end this stupid war and come home."

A twisted smile comes to my face, one of pure fury and pain. "I love Robb, he is the only thing I have left in this world, the only one who has still chosen me." He knows I mean the words because that smirk fades. "And so I choose him, and if choosing him means fighting until the bitter bloody end I will.  Because what is it you told me?" I ask him with my own smirk. "The things we do for love?"

He finally shuts up and I withdraw the knife from his throat, preparing myself for a bloody day.

~

It's when the sun sets and cries of treason and vengeance are all I hear that Brienne and Catelyn come to me. By then it's become clear neither Jaime or I will make it through the night.

"Robb's meant to return after dawn," I tell her, knowing he's too far away to save us. "And the thought of an imaginary baby can only stifle them for so long. There's men there that would rather cut me open than have the heir to the North be part Lannister."

She knows it too for her face is grim. "I read the letters, four of the Stormlords have pledged themselves to you and are assembling under Ser Barristan Selmy in his houses seat to retake Storms End while Stannis prepares to invade Kings Landing."

And Bolton hid it from me. "Bolton, he'd hidden the letters in a carved out book."

Jaime whistles. "Treason all around it is."

"Oh would you shut up!" I snap at him, kicking him from across the stockade for good measure before looking back to Catelyn. "Bolton wants me to be disposable, they want Walder Frey's daughter to be Robb's wife, a meek Riverlands girl instead of a Lannister. There's enough support from these men that I'm sitting in this damn stockade with this sister fucker."

"Ouch," he says, feigning hurt. "You should say motherfucker, considering it was your mother who I was fucking."

Catelyn merely sighs as I grab the blood covered rock and peg it at his head. "Those men aren't the only one's who'll kill you before the night is over."

"Yes, so I've heard," he remarks and looks at me. "Don't forget I was the one who protected you from your own fathers anger since you were a girl, that I was your shining knight uncle Jaime who you loved."

Catelyn scoffs. "You're hardly a knight, you've forsaken every vow you've ever took."

"So many vows," Jaime says. "That they make you swear and swear. Defend the king, obey the king, obey your father, protect the innocent, defend the weak. But what if your father despises the king, what if the king massacres the innocent? What if your niece who loved you more than your own son is the true heir to the throne but for her to rule it would mean the deaths of your sister and children?" I swallow hard as a chill settles over me. "It's too much. No matter what you're doing you're forsaking one vow or another."

"I would have protected them," I grit out, tears burning in my eyes. "I would have never let anyone touch a hair on Tommen and Myrcella's head."

"And what of your mothers?" he asks. "So what if Joffrey's overthrown, he's a beast of a child anyways who's never shown love to a single living thing. But how about your mother, would you be able to save her? The queen who fucked her brother and had his children? No matter what orders you give their heads would end up on spikes." I clamp my mouth shut. "Just look around you now, you're their queen and you're sitting in a stockade waiting for your husband to come and let you out. You have no power without an army."

Except I may yet have one.

"And you are a man without honour," Catelyn returns as my mind begins to tick over.

"You know I've never been with anyone but Cersei," he says, and immediately I see where he's going with this. "So in my own way I have more honour than poor old dead Ned." Catelyn's eyes burn, and I know if anyone kills Jaime tonight, it will be her. "What's the name of that bastard he fathered?" He looks at me. "The one you fucked while betrothed to Robb, you'd know his name."

"Brienne," Catelyn orders and Brienne steps forward with her hand on her sword.

"No that wasn't it... Snow," he says as my own eyes burn. "Bastard from the North. The bastard who fell in love with a princess. The affair I hid from everyone because we don't get to choose whom we love." He leans forward and breathes "Tell me that I betrayed you, because I never did." 

I can't, I can't say he ever betrayed me.

He turns back to Catelyn. "Did you pretend to love him, no, you hated him. Of course you did. The walking talking reminder that the honourable Lord Eddard Stark fucked another woman." He's grinning as he says "And now Robb's own wife fucked him. How fitting."

Catelyn's face is that of a truly staunch woman, one who I will never underestimate again as she orders Brienne "Your sword."

"Catelyn," I say, my voice weak as I struggle to look her in the eye. "The men will mutiny if Robb doesn't order his death." And so I take the blame from my husbands hands. "Free us. Come with us to Storms End, my men are preparing to retake it as we speak, from there I will organise for Sansa to be traded for Jaime."

She is hesitant. "How can you ensure that the deal will be honoured."

"Tyrion will honour it if it is my hand he reads," I promise her. "Tywin would never agree, but it's not Tywin who has Sansa, it's not Tywin missing their brother." Jaime even quietens. "Get us on a ship to Storms End and we can come home with Sansa and an army."

She looks behind her to make sure no guards are watching. "It will be treason."

"Robb will forgive us," I promise her. "Let the men despise us for this, because if this is Robb's decision to make half the men will mutiny regardless and Jaime will die, leaving Sansa to the sword. I have been mutinied against, it is a fate Robb cannot afford if we are to win this war. Let me take the brunt of their rage and spare him."

She looks upon me with a new respect and offers me my sword that Karstark took as I was being herded to the stockade. "If we ride hard to the Saltpans we will be able to sail from there." She offers her hand to me. "We best not waste time."