The air in Riverrun was colder then she'd expected, its deep chill running through the thick material of her dark gown and into the marrow of her bones the longer she stood on the dock. Her lips felt dry, pressed together to keep from chattering her teeth. The thought of going inside eased into the forefront of her thoughts. Victoria felt her feet firmly planted, pulling her father's coat tighter as she awaited the last of Lord Tully's funeral proceedings to be over with.

If only his son could be any bloody faster.

The Starks and their new bride stood near the edge, Catelyn's soft sniffles echoed against the ripples of open water and dense trees. Victoria had no desire to comfort the women, not know when the eyes of many looked upon the new queen who seems flustered to decide her next move. It was well established that Catelyn held no admiration for her sons' new bride, and hence had spurned all advances from the women. Victoria knew how cold Catelyn could truly be which made her slightly pleased to know that at least one of the present Starks was acting in the way she would have liked to be.

Her content was short-lived as again she suddenly felt a rush of nausea roll through her, she squeezed her thumbs tightly into the palms of her hand, swallowing whatever threatened to come up. The smell of the river was making her morning sickness ever the more present since their arrival, and as much as her advocate had pushed for her to stay indoors as the sun rose she had refused, and although now she could admit it would have been a flattering idea there was no turning back.

See Trout from her side huffed slightly and their eyes met, he blinked her way, eyebrows knitting together to ask if she was alright. The cerulean swirls of his eyes also said he'd carry her back in that instant if she wished as her feet now ached as well but she could not. Her lips pursed and she turned back, straightening her back to the remainder of the funeral.

The new Lord of Riverrun stepped forward, a flaming arrow in his bow, he waited a few seconds as the corpse of his father's body carried further downstream and pointed an arrow upwards towards the sky. Victoria wondered if he could make it, the sun was glaring into his eyes making accuracy less then desirable and the swoosh of the wind meant fewer chances. His hands shook slightly as he adjusted and her faith diminished the longer it took the new lord to fire.

It missed by a wide margin and the spectators around shuffled, some cracked a smile and the women looked away.

The second also missed, and Ser Trout grimaced from her side, his deep voice spoke low enough so only the two women beside him heard, "fucks sake, we'll be here until dusk."

The third shot missed again and by the time it had now become abundantly clear the body would sooner disappear down the river without a fire to blaze it away. The Blackfish, the uncle of Catelyn and Edmure, seemed exhausted and pushed forward, shoving his nephew away and snatched the bow along with a new arrow. He took a steady stance, taking one look at the sails that blew with the women and drew back his arm in one fluid motion, eyes on the horizon he shot out and turned away before the arrow landed, shoving the bow back. The boat went up in flames instantly, allowing everyone a deep sigh of relief.

Victoria too allowed a deep breath out, her hand extending to her sworn knight as she steadied herself. Her head suddenly swam, she'd accidentally held her breath and now she could barely feel her knees.

"Lady Valiente," Ser Trout calls out, his tone also alerts others around them.

Elaine appears on her other side, arm extended in case she falls back, her soft hand reaches towards the Lady's forehead and she curses softly at the touch. "She needs to lie down."

Victoria's blurred vision briefly sees Robb turn her way, Talisa in his arms as they both stare in worry. The new Queen's eyes fall to her Kings after a moment while his mother makes her way towards the Dornish women. It's Robb who has her attention as her eyes begin to weigh heavy and she clutches onto her loyal knight, "I wish to lie down."

He nods quickly and lifts her, darkening eyes avoiding all contacts with the nosey lords and their wives, all except Robb, who he stared down before walking away.

|•|•|•|•|

"Step aside, your King demands it."

"You're not my bloody King, you're barely a man to be barking orders at me."

The angered voices were like deep thunder in her mind, awakening the Dornish women from her slumber as she twitched and felt the plush bed underneath her sing as her body moved atop it. Her eyes sprung open, taking in the Tully estate and the quarters in which she had been placed in. The sunlight peeked in, remnants of warmth just barley scattering as it seemed the day had reached the early afternoon. She quickly remembered her spellbound sleep and a hand went to her stomach as well between her legs, no blood, she thought in relief and sensed her belly just beginning to protrude. A smile caressed her lips, her young babe as well, perhaps she'd pushed too hard but all was looking bright.

"I will have you thrown in chains if you do not move at once," the familiar voice growled, echoing into her chambers as she retraced back to the reason she'd awoken in the first place.

Victoria was careful and quick to scatter off the bed, stepping her bare feet into warm slippers and scurrying ours into the hall where the voices shouted.

She was confronted with Sir Trout guarding her door as well as a few Valiente guards, Lady Elaine pushes further aback and nearest her. The blonde's eyes were set at the argument occurring between her loyal knight and the man who'd broken her heart. Victoria's gentle touch alerted the handmaiden of her awakening who jumped slightly startled and turned.

"My Lady, you should be in your bed, resting." She said with worry, her eyes drifted downwards with relief as she noted how nothing seemed out of sorts. Her voice dropped, low enough to be below breath, "the child is telling you to rest."

"What is happening?" Victoria questioned while the men continued to argue.

"The King in the North wishes to see you, he's brought his wife to look you over," Elaine explained, gritting her teeth at the end.

Victoria gently pushed past the handmaid and walked towards the door where the men all looked at her.

"My lords," she said strongly, her arms crossed over the front of her dress. The eyes on her felt heavy, and most importantly she noticed the tension that seemed to revolve her lately. "Forgive me for the earlier occurrence, I'm quite alright now. I thank all of you for the concern."

From the corner of her eye she noted how Robb's jaw seemed to tighten, muscle-flexing underneath the bearded skin the longer she went without acknowledging his presence and instead focused on his loyal servants.

"Lady Valiente, our maester can check that there is nothing further, surely it would be better to double-check," Lord Tully's voice was deeper than usual, his chest pushed forward and he smiled warmly. Victoria could have laughed at the thought of this man, her former lovers' uncle, attempting to make any moves on her.

"My uncle has a point, Lady Valiente, if you are not comfortable with the touch of a man my wife did help--" that is about as far as Robb could get with his offering as the less then pleased maiden was quick to interrupt.

"That's quite alright, I hope the Queen has more important measures." She responded with slight malice, the dig clearly not missed by anyone as all eyes seemed to stray away. Her eyes barely looked his way before she settled her gaze once more on Lord Tully with the fondest of smiles. "Lord Tully, I appreciate your generosity with all of my people, I do hope we could have a private chat soon enough."

That seemed enough to settle the restless state of the Lord's and the Tully man no longer seemed intent on his nephews orders but instead was quite delighted by the turn of events.

"Gentlemen," she addressed the rest of them all with the same blazing smile that could have warmed them in the halls of Riverrun. "I assume we all have a council meeting to attend, if you would excuse me I will see you all shortly."

Before any of them could say another word she closed the door, practically slamming it in Robb's face. Once behind the sanctuary of her closed doors, she exhaled deeply, looking at her knight and handmaiden who seemed rather impressed at her wit and quick thinking.

The southern ruler exhaled loudly and walked further her into her private room, "I'd sooner have sailed down the river with the late Lord Tully then to made that mistake again."

|•|•|•|•|

The sun was beginning to dip below the mountains, at least that's what she assumed as Riverrun seemed to be stuck in eternal stormclouds. the streaks of sunlight just peaked enough to indicate the remnants of her day. She looked away from the dreary day, her eyelids suddenly heavy with the spells of sleep. There was nothing new, she thought to herself the longer her time was spent sitting around the table with the rest of the lords.

Robb seemed in a worse mood than usual, his frown was evident the longer his Uncle spoke, and honestly Victoria could not fault him. Edmure Tully and his pretentious voice were beginning to be irritating and she adjusted in her seat, one hand adjusted to hold her head up, fist bunched up just under her jaw as she attempted to keep up with whatever he said.

From across the tables Robb Stark took a pause from his fueling anger to note how Victoria was also beginning to get quite irritated with his uncles voice. Her stance told him she was tired, dark blotched under her eyes foreign, he still wondered what had caused her to pale and faint so early in the morning. Cautious not to worry his wife over the health of his former betrothed he'd simply posed the thought to his mother who had very quickly narrowed her eyes and remarked that he should have cared enough before and not now when he was married. Despite Catelyn's sharp answer he had seen the wonder in her eyes as well, and had it not been for the chance to explore her childhood home the Stark mother would have likely been by his side demanding to see the former queen.

Former queen, he huffed in thought, look at her, they still treat her as such!

His banner man all surrounded her, every so often making conversation or offering low words. The Karstark leader had become quite smitten, constantly trailing around her. Robb knew what they all wanted, it was the exact opposite of what he still wanted. These men coveted her lands, the power her name held but all he wanted was the doe eyed girl he'd loved and still did.

"If I may, nephew, I encountered a situation with one of my lieutenants at the Stone Mill which may have some bearing..."

The bloody stone mill again, Victoria allowed a deep breath to escape her when he, yet again, brought a location that seemed as insignificant as the conversation.

"Why don't you shut your mouth about that damned mill?" The Blackfish snapped, eyes narrowed as he seemed to be the only one willing to cut off his nephew. "And don't call him, nephew, He is your king."

"Robb knows I meant him no..." Lord Tully tried to reason with his Uncle, attempting a humourous smile.

The Blackfish would have none of it however, his eyes were cold even for his nephew as he stared the man down. "You're lucky I'm not your king. I wouldn't let you wave your blunders around like a victory flag."

For the smallest of moments, Edmure seemed lost for words, silent as no one even seemed willing to defend him. The Blackfish was right, of course, what he'd done although brave was nothing but arrogant and shortsighted. Edmure although taken aback by the brash words seemed unwilling to bend. "My blunder sent Tywin's mad dog back to Casterly Rock with his tail between his legs. I think King Robb understands we won't win this war if he's the only one winning any battles. No, there's glory enough to go around."

Victoria had trained her eyes on her past lover, knowing him well enough that the stare he had fixated on the rivers edge was only to control his seething fury. His breaths were shallow, strong hand tightened against the wooden molding of the table beside him, he would nearly snap it had he he kept his silence further.

Edmure nor the Blackfish seemed to note any of this, but Robb was quick to cut in and show his airhead of an uncle who was really in charge.

"It's not about glory."

Victoria seemed to exhale, her chest rapidly falling and alerting her knight who took note and looked her way with a raised brow. She too had been growing furious, almost as if he she was queen yet again, and perhaps she would have said something if the King himself had not begun.

"Your instructions were to wait for him to come to you." Robb calmly states, turning back towards his uncle and striding right up to him.

Lord Tully was unfazed, lifting his hands as if the answer wasn't evident enough. "I seized an opportunity."

"What value was the mill?" The Blackfish calmly walks away as his great nephew takes his turn to snap at the new Lord and walks towards the arrangement of drinks.

"The Mountain was garrisoned across the river from it."

"Is he there now?" Robb retorts and the bits of his self control seem to crack.

"Of course not." Victoria almost cringes at the manner of the Lords response, as if it was evident enough. And to everyone in the room it was quite evident that he didn't quite grasp his own wrongdoings. "We took the fight to him. He could not withstand us."

"I wanted to draw the Mountain into the west, into our country, where we could surround him and kill him." Robb now speaks through bare teeth and Victoria once again finds herself holding her breath, all thought of sleep has left her body as she adjusts in her seat. She's nearly always been on the receiving end of this side of her ex, and normally she'd be right back to snapping at him. It was nearly odd to feel herself agreeing with him, but the further he spoke; the more he attention was gained and she saw clarity in his words. "I wanted him to chase us, which he would have done because he is a mad dog without a strategic thought in his head. I could have that head on a spike by now. Instead, I have a mill."

"We took hostages. Willem Lannister. Martyn Lannister." Edmure still holds onto the fleeting hope of his supposed victories.

"Willem and Martyn Lannister are 14 years old." Robb points out with no remorse.

"Martyn is 15, I believe." The Blackfish is seeming to enjoy his nephews humiliation and by the sound the other lords make around the table, they do too, even Victoria cracks a smile behind her palms.

"Tywin Lannister has my sisters." Robb seems damned to let the matter go. "Have I sued for peace?"

"No."

"Do you think he'll sue for peace because we have his father's brother's greatgrandsons?"

"No."

"How many men did you lose?"

"208."

"But for every man we lost, the Lannisters...

"We need our men more than Tywin needs his!" The King has had enough of excuses as his voice raises, and the room nearly shakes at his outburst.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." It appears that finally the one stubborn man bows below his true king, when faced with the overwhelming guilt of his mistakes there is nothing he can do but drop

"You would have." Robbs reluctant to accept any apologies. "Right here today at this gathering, if you had been patient."

"We seem to be running short of patience here." The Blackfish pointed out as he finished his chalice and watched his young nephew walk away with his head down.

"You know who isn't? Tywin Lannister." Robb pointed out, and the words felt heavy with their reality.

After a very tense moment Robb turned away, likely too angered to speak anything else so instead he waved his arm and stated, "that will be all."

Edmure left the room in that moment, likely shamed or embarrassed he was quick to exit and the rest of the Lords followed suit. Perhaps bored or perhaps bothered by his abrupt nature Victoria chose to stay, standing from her chair and walking around the table.

"You know you could have stated those things in a better manner."

Robb looked back, shocked she was standing in a room by herself willingly, her lips were turned down in a frown and arms crossed over one another, allowing her bosom to appear fuller than it ready was. His eyes strayed upwards, remembering his bride was somewhere near, likely already have noted that only the two were in the room.

He instead repeated her words in his head, suddenly very intrigued in her sudden interest. "And what do you suppose I should have done? Prided him over his stupidity?"

Victoria swirled her cup of juice around, the dark color gave the appearance of wine, something she was thankful for in her state. "I'll admit, his actions were out of his own vanity, but I'd be wary of the way you speak to your subjects. You don't want them to be comparing you to Joffrey."

Robb's eyebrows furrowed, the wrinkles in his forehead creasing as his light eyes darkened with his mood, "is that it then? Are you comparing me to Joffrey?"

Victoria remained silent, debating whether this was her chance to bicker or not. Frankly, she felt exhausted, her feet ached in the thick boots and she felt cold despite the many layers she wore, still, she felt a duty to stand here with Robb and correct his mistakes.

"Joffrey would have killed his Uncle before he'd had a chance to speak with him," she stated and paced. "However if he'd kept the man alive I'm sure his words would have been along those lines."

Robb bitterly scoffed, "tell me did you stay with us longer just to torment, or is it just an added bonus."

Victoria bit her tongue from responding to his sour comment and kept her head held high, she instead walked over to the table where the wine and ale had been left for the King's content and poured him a drink. She walked over and handed it to him wordlessly.

Robb took the cup eyeing her worriedly, last time she'd been this silent it'd been because she'd masked the sound of her troops departing. In the time since they'd last stood in a room together, drinks in hand and a silent chorus of suspense between them he'd learned more about this women then in the years growing up.

The King took note of her attire, thick coats in the deep mustard yellow of her families colors. Her hair was pinned back in a very elegant way, a southern way, he'd seen it so few times on her it was almost impossible to recollect. He could see it vividly in Cersei, long strands pulled from the initial pull into an elegant arrangement. It suited Victoria however, and he thought maybe she'd always meant to be a southern ruler.

She didn't meet his eyes, her feet trailing towards the large opening where the river was visible. It was so bloody cold next to the window, the wind had picked up and nipped at her nose and cheeks but she could not fathom staying near Robb. Admittedly, as deep as her hate and hurt had run through her she still loved him deep down. The child that filled her womb was a clear representation of that love, the very reason she stood in this room.

"I don't know," she admitted truthfully and drank from her cup, the sweet taste was cooling. "I don't even know why I'm still here, perhaps I want to keep the promise I made my father, perhaps I just enjoy tormenting myself; but what ever it may be, I'm still here to make you see reason, wether you'd like it or not."

"And what would you have done differently? Should I have talked to him in that sickly sweet voice you've used the last few days?" Robb was still swirling with anger, he spoke without thought and as the words left his lips he instantly regretted them. Perhaps this may have been his truth though.

Victoria smirked slightly, somehow she was not bothered by his spite, and instead found it amusing. "Oh Robb, how little you know of me. Your Uncle is an idiot, so much so I've convinced him he may be a potential suitor, he's old enough to be my father, how would I ever marry a man like that."

"So you're using him?" Robb seemed genuinely intrigued now, the smile on her lips was now alluring and exciting. He'd seen very little of this relaxed women, and never in such a state. Her smile was almost as warm as the yellow colors of her clothes.

She lifted one finger and wagged it repeatedly, "I return his... appreciation with my own gratitude. Of course, it'll gain him nothing that he wishes and I'll likely never need him again but if the chance ever comes that I must travel north yet again, I'll have an ally in the Riverlands."

Robb lowered his gaze as he thought over her words, she truly was something else. He'd always known she had a way with people, but this bordered manipulation, a trait that many with a proper title only dreamed of, even he with his crown all but cemented on his head had no such luck. The lords under him would give him doubtful looks, most had outright spoken against some of his decision but not with her. It was as if they were all under her spell.

The smile on her lips seemed wider when he looked her way, "you think it was a mistake coming here."

Victoria stopped smiling and gave her following words some thought, "I think you should've sent your mother in the dead of night, with a squadron. I think we should be further south now, winning and not running. Family die all the time now Robb, and it is not how we send them off but how we honor them after their passing that matters. I think now it'll be even harder to get to where we were, and you knew that and it made you fearful. You've always been fearful of overcoming things, but you're King in the North now, and it's time to get over that. Years from now do you want to be remembered as the king who retreated for a funeral or the king who ended the Lannister legacy once and for all?"

Victoria sat the chalice down besides where he sat, eyes distant as she could tell his mind reeled with her words. And she walked out of the room, confused herself as to why she'd stayed for a long.

It's been nearly a year
My bad.