The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

No More

The journey from the Eyrie to Riverrun was hard, made even harder by Ross pushing to get there as fast as possible. They rode from dawn, with few breaks, and only made camp when it became too dark to go any further. The small pounch in her saddlebags, acquired from the Maester, weighed heavy on her mind. It was almost a relief to see the ugly mass of Harrenhal on the horizon; her daughter was now in reach. Ross' dreams had been filled of pale hands carrying Morganna away, tearing her apart.

Her family was there to greet her in the courtyard. Ren, Morganna - safe and well, thank the Gods - Robb, and a young woman who must be his wife. It was the first time she had seen Robb since setting off to meet Renly.

"Mother!" Morganna rushed forward before she even dismounted. "They said you were hurt? What happened? Where's Sansa?"

Ross let out a breath, bracing herself.

"I'm fine," She slid off her horse less gracefully than she ordinarily would, the stab wound still proving problematic, embracing her daughter tightly, assuring herself that Morganna was really here. "Sansa stayed at the Eyrie. It's a hard journey at this time of year - I would rather she be safe and comfortable, and travel to White Harbour by ship later,"

"Quite right," Robb looked heartbreakingly older since she had seen him last. "I am glad to see you, Auntie - you're no doubt as pleased by Joffrey's upcoming betrothal to Queen Shireen as I am. Ren wouldn't say anything until you were here,"

Her son shook his head. "I told you to trust that we would not let the war be for nought,"

Ross did not need to fake her displeasure. "We''ll talk on that unpleasant matter soon," She glanced at the young woman stood beside Robb. "But for now, congratulations,"

Her nephew seemed to have warmed up to his Frey wife, offering her a fond smile. "Thank you. I know you have met before, briefly, but for politeness' sake - Marianne, my aunt, Lady Rosennis St - Bolton," Robb had never known her as Lady Stark, and it was gratifying when even he slipped up. "Auntie, my wife, Lady Marianne Stark,"

She felt a flash of the same irritation as when Catelyn was first introduced as Lady Stark. Ross had not been permitted the name of her own house, despite being raised in Winterfell, with the look of her forefathers, the blood of the Kings of Winter in her veins, simply because society dictated she should be married. This frail, southron child wore her name instead.

Some of that must have come across in her face, as Marianne Frey's smile faltered, revealing the anxiety underneath.

"A pleasure to meet you, my lady," The girl curtseyed politely, hardly able to look her in the eye. "I am honoured that you chose me, of all my cousins, for Lord Stark's bride,"

Ross hesitated to respond to that; she had chosen the girl for her connection to the main Frey line, and for her likelihood of dying in childbirth. Luckily, she did not have to. A dark-haired blur in an ill-fitting blue dress dashed out of the castle towards them.

"Sorry!" The little girl came to a stop beside Robb. "I really didn't mean to be late, I was in the Godswood fighting with Hot Pie - "

Though she had grown a great deal, and her hair was short, Ross would have recognised Ned's daughter anywhere.

"Arya?" She hardly dared to pose the question, heart caught in her throat. For well over a year, she had feared her wild little niece dead in a King's Landing gutter.

"Auntie,"

The girl seemed unsure, so Ross closed the distance between them. Arya clung to her like a limpet; Ross was surely the first adult family member she had seen since Ned was killed. Her ribs could be felt through her dress, she was so thin, and the look in her eyes was worse.