"Heh, so you hammered him to death?" Han questioned as he sipped his ale. He had misjudged the man before him. His appearance was quite deceiving. His drunken, womanizing ways, while true, were used as a defense mechanism to the world around him. He was surrounded by people he hated. Han glanced about and noted that Zipporah and Robb were still in the hall, murmuring to one another. He couldn't tell if they were shooting the breeze or plotting something. So far, everything had gone to plan. The king had eagerly accepted him, and the rest of the North believed him to be related to their goddess. He still found it funny that a loud mouth resistance pilot had become a wife and future mother. She had matured rather quickly. No matter, he was just happy that she was alive. He remembered experiencing the devastating feeling the night the news was broadcast. Chewie had wailed in mourning. Another light snuffed out by the darkness.

Han loudly thought, "This is a good thing, right?"

Robb thinks so. The king is open with you.

"Meaning?"

Use your skills. Influence for us.

Han rolled his shoulders and grinned at the king. "So, Your Grace, what do you think of my niece?"

The king chuckled, "Honestly?"

"Sure, she's not my kid." Han gave an unceremonious shrug.

"Ha. She reminds me of a woman that I once knew. Beautiful, almost hauntingly so. The North calls her a goddess for a reason. Strong willed but willing to bend for the man she loves. It's quite clear she loves the Stark boy. Hell, she's about to give him an heir."

"So she's safe?" Han questioned with intrigue. "Forgive me from what I'm about to say, but the Southerners worry me."

Nodding in agreement, the king sighed, "No harm will come to House Stark as long as I'm alive. My heir, Joffrey, is a different story. Something's wrong with the boy."

"How so?" Han pressed. He knew that Zipporah and Robb could "hear" their conversation. Any information was useful information. They needed to know as much as possible.

"He's cruel. Killed several cats. Pushes his younger siblings around, but not in a sibling way. It's hard to describe."

"Ah, well...." Han started, his mind shifting to his son, "I had a son once. Sweet kid, but then something stole his mind. He, too, became cruel. It's important to be there for him. He needs guidance." Ben's face remained in the front of Han's mind.

"Aye, well, I'm not the one to give it."

"Why's that?"

"I don't feel connected to the boy."

"Huh. It happens. Can I ask a question without being put to death for treason?"

The king chuckled at the man before him, "Yes, go ahead."

"Do you want Joffrey to be your heir? You could change the law or hinder him until he's deemed ready?"

"It's a possibility. I'll think about it and talk to Lord Stark about it as we head back to King's Landing."

"Fair enough, sir." Han conceded with a slight smile. "On a happier note, you think it will be a boy or girl?"

A booming laugh sounded from Robert's chest, "The wolves usually produce boys. I bet it's a boy."

"Aye. I agree. Zip would enjoy having a boy."

"Zip?" The king stroked his beard, "the nickname suits her." Han watched the king mull over what to say next. Han patted himself on the back. He had planted a seed that would hopefully help the good guys out in the future. In that moment, he missed Chewie. He wondered what his copilot was up to. No doubt he was still with the Falcon. Han hoped that Rey was his new copilot. Chewie and her would do well. She appreciated the Falcon.

Zipporah pushed herself to her feet, tugging on Robb's hand to follow. She was tired. The king was on his way out as was Han. They were secure for as long as Robert Baratheon was alive, but she had a sinking feeling that it would not be much longer.

Robb nodded and followed her to their room. He could feel how tired she was and he, himself, felt tired as well.

Days passed. Zipporah found herself on bed rest at the request of the Maester. Catelyn and Ned had visited often. Catelyn had consulted her on many different occasions. The most concerning was the letter from her sister in the Eyrie. Lysa Arryn had insinuated that her husband's death was the fault of the Lannisters, but Zipporah's visions said otherwise.

"What do I write back?" Her lady mother looked distressed. "I'm no good with playing politics." Zipporah knew that Catelyn wanted to believe her sister, but as many rumors flew about her sister's mental health, Zipporah knew that they had to be careful. From the books she had read, the Knights of the Vale were formidable in battle, and she did not want to put her husband against them if she could help it.

"I would be as vague as possible. Do not give her the impression that you doubt her, yet we cannot afford anyone to think we are against the Lions."

"That's easier said than done."

"Say thank you for her letter. Sorry for her loss. You've been praying for them." Zi shrugged at the end. She wasn't good with words, better at using a weapon. Her mind again flashed to her former General. The woman was able to do both.

Robb had visited as much as he could. Every visit was different. Ranging from loving to angry. She hadn't seen Robb as angry as he had been the day that Joffrey had challenged Robb to live steel. Robb wanted to fight, but Sir Rodrick would not allow it in his yard. It wasn't to save Robb from embarrassment, rather it was to save everyone in Winterfell from a tantrum from the young Baratheon.

"He's a grade A twat."

"Shh, love. He would have lost. We both know it."

It was mid afternoon when she sensed a disturbance. Sleep had been teasing her for most of the day. Vader and Grey Wind had stayed with her; both opted to sleep their day away. The disturbance caused Grey Wind to whine and Vader to move to sit by the door and scratch. Zipporah searched for where the disturbance originated. She couldn't see who was involved; there was too much chaos. She knew it was bad, because the emotions of sorrow and horror were pulsating from the area.

Thinking the worst, Zipporah began cataloging each member of House Stark. She knew Robb and Ned were out on a hunt with the King. She sent a mental distress signal to Robb, hoping he'd get it and hurry back.

Catelyn were also fairly easy to find. Catelyn was grieving. But why? Jon was in the yard; his mind clouded with worry. Sansa was moving quickly from her room to the Maester's. Arya was sitting on the stairs leading to the crypt. Rickon was with his nanny. And Bran was....where was Bran.

"Oh God." Zipporah groaned as she moved to get up and make her way to the mess. He wasn't dead, but he was barely alive. She could help him. As fast as she could, she pulled on her cloak and stepped into her shoes. Her long hair remained down and wavy.

"Vader, Grey Wind, come." She called as she pulled the door open. Behave little one. Your uncle is in trouble. She thought to her baby who was oddly still. Normally, if she moved her legs, he or she would kick until she sat or laid down. Perhaps the young one sensed that something was wrong?

The servants gave her curious looks as she waddled to the Maester's area. Jon was the first to see her. "What are you doing up?!"

"Something is wrong. Where is Bran?"

"He fell, Zi. He fell."

Stunned. There was no way he fell. That child was gifted in the art of climbing. She had never seen anything like it.

"Where?"

"By the old tower..." Jon murmured as led her to where Bran was being attended to.

"The tower that was never fixed as I had suggested?" She hissed in anger. Lord Stark had made an excuse about not fixing it. If only they had listened to her, the tower had darkness in it, more than before.

"Don't start that conversation now. What's done is done. Bran needs us."

"I'll shut up...for now." She muttered as she and Jon approached the room where Bran was being attended to. Grey Wind whined again, and Vader wailed. Zipporah furrowed her brow at the animals. What did they sense?

"The things I do for love." A male voice echoed in her head. She stopped mid-step. "He saw us."

Zipporah growled. They had tried to kill him. Jon had heard her stop walking. She was sorting something out. The gods must have been speaking to her. Jon knew better than to interrupt. Like Ghost or Grey Wind, Zipporah growled. Whatever she had seen, it wasn't good. It didn't take a smart man to know that the pregnant Stark was upset.

"Jon, if I had proof, we be starting a war." Her voice was low and full of hatred. Jon scowled in response. The fucking Lannisters. Literally and figuratively.

"They won't get away with this. We will find a way."

Zipporah nodded as she pushed herself to the closed door. Gingerly, she knocked on the door, which promptly opened to reveal a sobbing Catelyn and a very stressed Maester. Sansa felt hope flood her being she spotted Zipporah slowly approach the bed.

Zipporah could see that Bran was in a coma. She had seen similar things before. His brain seemed to be working. Closing her eyes, she felt for where his pain was located. His spine. He'd never walk again.

No, not if I can help it.

Slowly, she lifted her hands over his midsection, closed her eyes, and pulled the light side of the force and began to transfer it to Bran. His strength was depleted. He needed as much as he could get. Zipporah could feel the bones mending. Not perfectly, but they were mending nonetheless. The maester went to touch the young woman, but Jon was quick to intercept. "She knows what she's doing."

Sighing, Luwin moved away and started looking through his medications to give Bran for his fever.

As she felt for Bran's nerves, they were not connected. She pushed herself. There was plenty of the light side to use, but it was tiring. She felt the nerves connect, and she pulled back.

"Ugh." She swayed on her feet. Drained. Bran would live and walk. Maybe a limp? Catelyn had watched her with uncertainty. What was she doing to Bran?

Making eye contact with her mother in law, she weakly whispered, "He will walk again. He may have a limp, but he'll make it. It's going to take time. Time..."

Her legs gave out. As she collapsed to the floor, Jon was able to catch her.

"I'm taking her back to their room. She's exhausted." Catelyn only nodded at her nephew. She was at a loss for words. Her daughter in law had saved her son. Originally, there was doubt in her heart about the beauty's abilities, but now, there was no doubt.

Jon solemnly carried his cousin's wife back to her room. She was surprisingly light for her current state. His eyes caught sight of her abnormal ears. They suited her. His ears noted that both the shadow cat and dire wolf had followed them back. The door was open, which caused Jon to be cautious.

"Grey Wind, ahead." Jon ordered at the dire wolf. Grey Wind easily obeyed and went in first. The dog came back out with his tail wagging. Jon took that as a sign that the room was safe. As he entered, he spotted his cousin moving around the room, muttering obscenities and shaking his head.

"Aye, Robb. You looking for her?" Jon offered with a half smile.

"What happened? She sent me a distress signal."

"Bran fell Robb." Jon paused watching the news set in, "your wife saved his life. I don't know how, but she did. She's exhausted."

Jon laid her down, nodded at Robb, and left the room. Robb stared at her sleeping form. She had saved Bran. She sacrificed her energy and possibly the health of their child. He wanted to be angry with her, but he couldn't muster the emotion.

If she hadn't been reckless, Bran could have died. He silently thanked the gods for sending her to him. Before he could sit beside her, a strong knock sounded at the door. Glancing to be sure she was still proper, he muttered, "Aye. Come in."

The open door revealed a very worn down Han. He had accompanied them on the hunt-Robb felt tired himself. He could only imagine how depleted Han was. The older man must have been twice Robb's age and then some.

"I heard." He paused, eyes resting on the young girl's form, "she alright?"

"Aye. Could have been bad."

"Yeah, well, those Celchus are more stubborn than a falumpaset. Err, they're just stubborn...and impulsive."

"So it runs in the family?" Robb's mouth twitched with a smile.

Han chuckled, "You have no idea."

Robb peeked at her again, "Oh, I have an inclination."

"Sure ya do, kid." Han rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll leave ya to it. Keep me posted, will yah?"

Robb refrained from looking puzzled. He would ask Zi what posted meant—other than being stationed somewhere. "Of course, Lord Solo." Robb confirmed with a small, deliberate nod.

As the door clicked shut, Robb motioned for Vader and Grey Wind to lay by the fireplace. Robb knew that Bran would be okay. Jon had said as much. A part of him desired to look in on his younger brother, and the other wanted to lay beside his wife. He compromised, deciding to spend some time resting with her, and then he'd go sit with his brother.

Removing all the unnecessary hunting clothes, Robb gingerly laid beside his sleeping wife. Hesitantly, he rested his hand on her baby bump. Feeling her breaths, he noted that she was breathing normally, and her body was warm to the touch. A light kick pressed against his hand. He grinned widely. This magical moment would remain one of his favorites. It was one that he would have alone. There was a possibility that she knew he was there, reveling in their unborn child's movements, but the young lord was content with being selfish. There was a feeling, at the bottom of his stomach, that this moment would be rare. The vision, that Zi previously had, predicted that the Lannisters would end up warring with the Stark's. Wolves versus lions. From the time she mentioned it to the present, he had been training extra hard in the combat yard. Lord Stark was leaving, and he would be in charge of the North.

Robb wasn't sure if he could handle the pressure of running the North, being a husband, and more importantly, a father. A war was coming. His child would be growing up in a state of violence. The lord felt powerless. Stopping the coming war was not a choice.

His mind mulled over sending Sansa to Dorne, to live with the Martells. A raven had arrived with confirmation that Prince Tristan would be promised to Sansa and vice versa.

"She needs to be safe." He whispered to the quiet room. The more he thought about his siblings, the more he wanted to protect them. It would do Arya a world of good to be trained to fight. It's what she truly wanted. Bear Island would be the perfect place for her to grow up. The she-bears would tame the wild she-wolf. He made a mental note to write Lady Maege Mormont at first light. Bran and Rickon would remain at Winterfell, learning how to run the castle should anything happen to Robb. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Always.

It wasn't long til sleep took him. His slumber was dreamless. Sleep left him as soon as it had come. Robb felt an abnormal amount of movement beside him. Immediately, he was alert and looking about for signs of trouble. Turning, he tried his best not to laugh at the sight before him.

Zipporah was desperately trying to rock herself upward to sit up. It seemed that she had forgotten to use her arms as props—instead she did her best to heave herself forward.

"Hmmpf." She grunted as she struggled. No longer able to contain his laughter, Robb clutched his abdomen as he deeply laughed at her antics.

"Shut up." She snapped in response. However, her face clearly displayed her embarrassment. Robb had to admit he had never seen her blush this harshly before. Twisting, Robb helped ease her upward.

"Thank you. The bathroom calls." She murmured with a slight smile. Nodding in reply, he moved off of the bed and around to help her move. Pulling her up, he kissed her nose. He didn't receive the normal giggle response she'd give. Pulling back, he stated at her with concern.

"Uh." She replied. Her body seemed rigid and frozen.

"Love?" Robb questioned with a raised eyebrow.

A whimper sounded from her throat. Her hands trembled, and her eyes widened to an impossible size.

"My water broke." She moaned. Her hands clutched her swollen stomach. Robb remained unmoved. Shock had taken his system. His brother had nearly died, his wife saved him, and now she was having their baby. She was having their baby. The baby. His baby.

She needed the maester.

"Robb!" She howled as she felt a contraction rip through her body. Her plea snapped from his stupor.

"I'm going to carry you to the Maester's." He stated as he moved to lift her into his arms.

"Oh. My. God." She grunted as her nails dug into his muscled arm. He gritted his teeth. Her grip was stronger than he had anticipated.

Robb struggled to open the door, but once he did, he was quick to maneuver through the halls. His voice yelled and barked orders to different servants as he passed them, ranging from informing Lord Stark to opening the next door.

"Maester Luwin, you have a new patient." Robb bellowed as he approached the medical man's quarters. The older man was quick to open the door and motion for Robb to lay her on a cot of sorts. The two stood, staring at the young woman. Zipporah glanced at the two men, "Are you going to just stand there? Or are you going to help me deliver this baby?!"

"Yes, of course. Lord Stark, you may go." Fear ricocheted through her body. He could not leave her alone to deal with this pain. She needed him.

"Oh hell no. He's not going anywhere."

"It's tradition."The older man stated in a matter of fact tone.

"Fuck tradition." She hissed in anger. Robb gave the Maester a look warning him to drop it. Robb knew he would be breaking many traditions, especially when it came to his wife.