CHAPTER 30 | STARK-SYMPATHIZER

"WE'RE at war," Lord Karstark scoffed. "This march is a distraction."

Robb and the lord sat off to the side on their horses, watching their host trot across the road to Riverrun. Grey Wind carefully sat next to his owner, panting happily. Robb counted each and every soldier who passed. He wanted to make sure they had an exact amount.

"My grandfather's funeral is not a distraction," Robb then argued.

"Are we riding to battle at Riverrun?"

Robb shook his head. "No."

"Then it's a distraction."

Robb watched forces of Lord Bolton pass, and then the few left from House Frey, but those troops slowly left every day. He sighed, "My Uncle Edmure has his forces garrisoned there. We need his men."

Lord Karstark chuckled. "Unless he's been breeding them, he don't have enough to make a difference."

"Have you lost faith in our cause?" Robb asked maliciously.

Karstark narrowed his eyes. "If it's revenge, I still got faith in it."

"If you no longer believe –"

"I can believe till it snows in Dorne." Lord Karstark replied quickly. "Don't change the fact that we've got half the men."

Robb sighed, watching his wife up ahead commanding the troops to stay in an orderly line. She chuckled along with her army, waving them forward with her hands. She marched along with them on her horse. Robb then asked, "You don't think we can win?"

"May I speak my mind, Your Grace?"

Robb released a false laugh. "Have you not been speaking your mind, Lord Karstark?"

Karstark glared in his direction before both of their heads turned at the call of Freya leading the soldiers. They watched her ride and grin into the sun during their retreat. Lord Karstark looked over to Robb. "I was never keen to Lord Bolton's idea of uniting both you and Queen Freya." He admitted. "I think you lost this war the day you married her."

Freya allowed the men to halt their actions and sit for a while, seeing as they had been on their horses all day. She knew their duties, but men always seemed to like a moment to piss or eat alone. She hopped down from her horse, spotting Lady Stark sitting on a rock, weaving a dream-catcher basket. She pulled off her gloves, greeting, "A beautiful catcher, Lady Catelyn."

Catelyn only looked up, but continued her weaving.

Freya sensed the tension as she allowed one of the banner men to take her horse. Selene trailed after her lady, but was asked to watch over her horse politely by Freya. She happily obliged. Freya walked over to her mother-in-law and sighed. "Lady Stark, you've always had a secret distaste for my family," she said, "but I never thought I would take it personally. I have forgiven you for your faults, and though some keep you chained, I've argued against it. You did what you had to save your daughters, and it was against my orders, but I understand. Why must you still hate me?"

"I forgot how blunt you were," Catelyn muttered with revulsion. "I want the best for my son, and you are simply not the best, Freya."

Freya furrowed her brow. "I beg to differ."

"Do you realize that we have lost more than half of the Frey army since your marriage to my son?" Catelyn spat. "I swear to the Old Gods and the New, I will never leave a pack of men to deciding the future of Robb. At the time, all of them were stuck on a revenge plot against your father. Now look where we are! Your whole family has betrayed us, we have lost House Frey, and I have to call you my daughter-in-law."

"The actions of my family should not constitute your viewing of me as a person!" Freya exclaimed. "I do not stand by the actions of my father, Theon, or younger sister. I know what they have done is wrong. I will never stand by it."

Catelyn paused her weaving to glance at Freya. "Lord Walder won't believe you. As much as you tell him that Robb is willing to accept a second wife, he will not have that. Neither will Robb, deep inside. I see the way he looks at you, almost like you're the sun, the moon, and all the stars. A second wife is something he secretly would never agree to, and I think you wouldn't either."

"It doesn't matter," Freya frowned, sliding her gloves back on. "We are blood now. My name is Freya Greyjoy-Stark, and you, Catelyn Tully-Stark, are my mother-in-law. There's nothing that can or will change, so deal with it. That's all we must do in this war anyways."

Freya pulled herself up on her horse quickly. She grasped the reins and lifted her hands in the air, calling to all the men, "MARCH ON!"

•••

Freya found her mind wandering to her brother as she rode on. She wondered where he went, both physically and metaphorically. Why had he set Winterfell aflame? Why had he captured it? Maybe she was growing to be a Stark-sympathizer – who could blame her? – but she never thought the Starks had treated her that bad. As a child, she adored her father, but when he would not give up his throne during the end of the Greyjoy rebellion, she saw his true colors. Regardless if her father wished for her to inherit his Salt Throne someday, he wouldn't give it up anytime soon. The Starks were more giving to her than he ever did.

Had Theon been captured by Lord Bolton's bastard? She heard word that her younger brother and sister were working side-by-side now, but she heard from neither of them since the burning of Winterfell. She hoped he was alright, no matter how much her family currently despied her. She never wished any ill will on them. All she hoped for was that Theon was safe.

Maybe she was asking for a miracle; maybe she wasn't. Truly, Freya didn't know the torture Theon Greyjoy was enduring at the moment, as she rode to Riverrun. His whole body was stuck to a cross, while limbs were being slowly sawed off his body. She would never know.

Although, in some way, Freya felt that she was hearing her brother's screams right now. She shivered, from both the thought and the wind.