King's Landing...

"You just had to imprison Lord Stark." Tyrion sneered at his nephew. Joffrey, seated on the iron throne, rolled his eyes and scoffed. Meanwhile, Cersei silently watched and listened. Her being quiet was new to Tyrion. He always expected a demeaning comment toward him at every turn, but it never happened. Either she was preoccupied with her son being a sadistic fuck or his father had sent a helluva letter, no matter, he enjoyed the quiet.

"He committed treason." The king stated mockingly.

Tyrion bristled, trying to keep his emotions under control. "By stating that your Father wished for you to learn more before taking charge? It seemed logical, a smart idea, but now you've imprisoned one of the greatest men in Westeros and sent an insulting message to the Warden of the North."

Tyrion could have sworn he saw Cersei nod in agreement. Subconsciously perhaps? She'd never knowingly agree with her younger brother.

Joffrey waved his hand nonchalantly, "I demanded men and loyalty from Robb Stark and his wife. How is that insulting?"

"You imprisoned his father, and then had the audacity to demand-"

"Pardon me, milord, your Grace. A letter just arrived from Winterfell." A servant interrupted in a shaky voice.

"Oh really? A letter from Winterfell?" Joffrey questioned smugly.

"Yes, your grace." The man's eyes darted between the Hand and the King. He sensed the tension between the two.

"Read it, will you?" Joffrey ordered with a huff. "Aloud."

"Yes, your Grace." The man affirmed as he broke the seal and read,

"To His Grace:

The North cannot afford to send men; they are otherwise occupied. Lord and Lady Stark have begun their journey to King's Landing to discuss the release of Lord Eddard Stark.

Winter is coming.

Maester Luwin of House Stark"

"Well then." Joffrey verbally commented. Tyrion, meanwhile, read between the lines and paled. The Northerners were going to fight. No, wage war. The Northerners were known for their brutality. What was to become of the realm?

"That was a warning." Cersei asserted with a sour expression.

"How so?" Joffrey asked as he climbed to his feet. The young king began to pace. His mind trying to put two and two together.

"The Northerners are occupied with going to war against us. Lord Robb and his wife are leading the war party. The spies reported several days ago that Robb Stark had called his banners..." Her voice died out with her information.

"So no recent news?" Tyrion pressed with fake surprise.

"Unfortunately not. Our informers have disappeared."

"Knowing the North, they're probably dead."

In the North...

Robb glanced at Zipporah as they rode toward the South. He could not believe that she looked that fierce yet beautiful. They had not been riding long. No doubt, the Lannisters were still somewhat in the dark about their movements. He smirked as he thought about the message he had Maester Luwin send. At the surface, it was simple and seemingly compliant. However, if one was clever, they'd read between the lines. Robb knew that Joffrey was too dense to see it, but his mother would. She'd know right away, and the Lions would prepare.

King's Landing Dungeon...

"Lord Stark, you must be thirsty." Lord Varys summarized in a quiet, unassuming tone.

"Varys." Eddard stoically replied as he grabbed the water sac from the advisor.

"I promise you, it isn't poisoned. Why is it that no one ever trusts the eunuch?" He questioned with amusement in his eyes. "Not so much, my Lord. I would save the rest, if I were you. Hide it. Men have been known to die of thirst in these cells."

Eddard nodded and changed the topic, "What about my House?"

"Your House seems to have declared war on House Lannister." Eddard did not look surprised nor did he try to hide his pride. Varys regarded the older man before him with careful eyes, "You knew."

"I had an idea. There's a reason I'm not dead yet." He was counting on Zipporah to make things right.

"But I trust that you know you are a dead man, Lord Eddard?"

"My son has the Queen's son."

"Joffrey has no interest in Tommen. The Queen is losing her grip over him. Sadly, he's turning toward madness, and it's only been a few days."

"If that's true, then slit my throat and be done with it."

"Not today, my lord." Varys turned to leave, but Lord Stark's abrupt movement toward the front of his cell made him pause.

"Tell me something, Varys. Who do you truly serve?"

"The Realm, my Lord. Someone must."

Sometime later...

"We'll make camp here. It's positioned in the high ground. Good view of the Riverlands." Robb stated to the other lords. They murmured in agreement. Zipporah jumped from her horse, moved away from the men and toward the open area, and projected her idea to Robb,

Scouting ahead. I'll be right back.

Robb mentally confirmed her message and continued to work his his men.

As Zipporah moved along the landscape, many of the men thought her to be a shadow, at least that's how they'd describe her. Her hood hid her face, and her long coat obscured their view of her many weapons. Only the dual swords were predominantly displayed.

Her legs continued to carry her. She took in the force waves around her, inviting it in and trying to understand it. From what she could gather, Tywin Lannister had swiftly mobilized his men. Their headquarters were beyond the river. However, they had ease of access. Gold was thrown about with little care. The depraved indifference of the South burned her thoughts.

Robb's camp was technically a little north of the Riverlands and was out of view of those in the South. Only the smoke from the fires would be a give away. Battles would soon begin. Her senses tingled with anticipation.

Crunch. Crunch. Her ears picked up the movement of feet somewhat further ahead of her. Luckily, to her right, there was a small cluster of dense trees. Thinking on her feet, she jumped into the nearest tree and focused her breathing. She didn't want to be seen prematurely. Her eyes noted that the footsteps belonged to a small scouting party that held the Lannister Lion. Knowing that these scouts could not see the North's forces from this point but would within a few more steps, she swore heavily in her mind. It was effortless for her to know that she could not allow them to report their position....or to even breathe.

She let them pass by, jumped down, unsheathing his sabers, and made a high pitched whistle. The men turned in alarm and tensed at the sight of her. A potential threat. What was she holding?

"What the hell?" A man muttered. A woman bearing foreign weapons was an outlandish idea to them.

"Who are you?" Another questioned, his hand tightly gripping his sword. Zipporah weighed her options. Be silent and let their imaginations run wild or reveal her identity and hear snide remarks?

Cocking her head, she took a step toward the small group of five. The men reacted by taking a step back and shouted, "What are you? Who are you?"

"All men must die." She stated stoically. Before they could react, she rushed them and ignited the sabers. Decapitating the first two and incapacitating another two with slices to their unprotected sides. The leader dropped his sword and begged, "I surrender."

The two injured men groaned in agony. A wave of annoyance flooded her. The noise was a reminder of her actions. With ease, she ended their suffering and turned her attention to the surrendered man.

"I don't think I'll be taking you prisoner."

"I surrendered. There are rules." He reasoned.

"They don't apply to me." She snapped. With a smirk, she sliced his head off. The sabers made the decapitating very easy.

As Zi glanced about, the weight of what she had done suddenly hit her. She had taken five lives and enjoyed it. The Dark Side had her. It caused her feel pleasure in their deaths. They had little to offer, granted she wasn't as thorough in checking as she normally was. Oops.

Biting her lip, she grabbed the swords and stuck them into the ground-firmly so they could not fall over. She placed the severed heads on the handles of the swords. The bodies were laid out in a straight line. This setup was meant to be a warning to whoever headed toward the Stark camp. Nodding to herself, that her display was finished, she left the clearing and headed back to the camp.

As her eyes landed on the 18,000 man army, she compared what she had left to the present. The camp had developed quite a bit. Tents and small fires had been made. From what she could tell, many had already fallen asleep. The night guard lifted his hand in greeting to her as she passed by, and she returned it.

It was relatively easy to find their tent; Grey Wind was standing guard outside. One could not miss the wolf. His tail thumped in greeting, causing her to break her hardened demeanor. She smiled at the direwolf.

Hello boy. How's your daddy doing?

The dog cocked its head in reply. Her hand found itself scratching behind his ears. Surprisingly, it not only made Grey Wind hum, but it also relaxed her tense muscles. Moments passed. She found herself lost in them. She knew that she should feel shame, but she didn't. In fact, she felt happy to do it again.

While the wolf appeared content, Zi felt restless. She missed Robb's presence. Pushing the flap aside, Zi entered and found Robb, Jon, and Lord Umber discussing tactic. The men paused at her presence.

"Lady Stark." Lord Umber greeted with alarmed eyes. Why was he looking at her like that? He knew that she was a part of the war party.

You have blood splatter on your face.

Robb explained with concern.

"Lannister scouting party. We ran into each other, and they lost their heads."

"Was that a joke?" Jon questioned with raised eyebrows. Sighing, she shook her head, "No. it was a statement of fact. They lost their heads. They now serve as a warning."

"Well, I'll be damned. The Lady has no qualms in killing. A lady after my own heart."