Part 12

                                    

                                          
Rhaenyra pushed herself from the warm bed, upset she needed to start the day. She sat up, turning to see her sleeping family beside her. Domeric nestled himself into his father's side in attempts to seek warmth, Robb protectively wrapped his arm around his son. Henry slept beside his brother, spread between him and their mother. Rhaenyra nearly fell off the bed most nights in fear she would roll onto him in her sleep. She turned to rest her hand on his small chest, needed the reassurance of his steady breaths. Slowly she stood from the comfortable furs and linens. Her face twisted as her bare feet met the moist grace and dirt. Rhaenyra moved to place her pillow beside her child in hopes he would not roll to the ground. 
                          
She had given Bella a much-needed rest, no doubt the young girl was being wooed by some solider even in the early hours. Rhaenyra shook her head, walking to the closest dresser to pull salve and bandages from its drawers. Maester Wolkan had thankfully given them to her after she insisted she would further watch over the King's wound. After a heated argument, he taught her how to properly watch over it, listing the signs of intense illness which she easily remembered. 
                          
Rhaenyra laid the supplies atop the dresser. She turned to the bed once more to see if any woke, none did. Stepping to the large trunks beside the modesty curtain, she searched through the few clean dresses she had available. Her options began to lessen into lighter shades and few pants that she questioned. She let her fingers slide through the silks and cotton, feeling pleased with a familiar texture she pulled her favorited green dress from the trunk. 
                          
It reminded her of home, of when she carried her children and would wander through the castle besides Catelyn. She missed her good mother dearly, she prayed she would return soon. The dress was loose, something that never constricted in activities which was why she grew quite fond of it.  
                          
Rhaenyra pulled a decent, clean shift from the trunk and moved behind the curtain. Quickly she changed, feeling satisfied at her lack of dependency on Bella. She pulled the flowing dress over her head, smiling as she playfully moved the skirt. Her fingers easily knotted the strings on her chest and she discarded her nightdress over the screen. 
                          
Her eyes danced over her family again, seeing her sleeping children and husband soothed her even during the time of war. She smiled and walked to put her discarded boots on. Slowly, she fell to the floor and gently sat on her bottom. Rhaenyra's face twisted at the sight of her dirty feet, she hurridly slapped the filth away. She pushed her boots on, not finding a need for stockings because they always seemed to be too constricting. 
                          
Happy with her clothing she tied her short hair back with a loose string, pieces falling immediately. Rhaenyra spoke to the guard outside her tent to send in breakfast. She sat in the horrible chairs they brought along, the wicker creaked as she pushed herself into the seat. Her face cringed as she reached to the small table before her, grabbing the scroll that was clasped together with the Bolton seal. Eagerly, Rhaenyra ripped it to read over the letter. It was Ramsay, complaining of his new duties as acting Lord. He signed the letter as her loving brother. She rolled her eyes and tossed the letter back to the small table. 
                          
Rhaenyra jumped as hands rested on her shoulders. She turned her head up to see Robb curiously watching her, "How dare you scare your wife." 
                          
 He knelt down to whisper to her,  "I dare." Robb gently laughed as his hands rubbed against her, "How long have you been awake?"
                          
Rhaenyra shrugged, letting her hand rest against his, "Not too long. I requested breakfast, dressed which I take much pride in." Her voice softened as she reached to grasp her brother's letter, "I also read Ramsay's letter, gave me an uneasy feeling." She turned it in her hand seeing the small marks in the parchment, dagger marks. Rhaenyra stood from her seat to stand before him, she smiled. "May I?" Her eyes shifted over his bare torso, falling to his side. The linen clearly needed to be changed, Robb nodded and began to unwrap it from his person. 
                          
Delicately, Rhaenyra wrapped fresh linen over his side. She found the wound healing quickly and decided against the use of the salve. She smiled, bending to kiss over her husband's bandages. "Thank you, love. Let me know when breakfast arrives, I will wake our sons and hopefully dress them and myself." He kissed her cheek before departing to their mock bedroom. 
                          
Rhaenyra went to the desk where her belt had been thrown. She struggled to tighten it against her waist, angrily searching for the loops. She turned from the desk, focusing on the disgusting chairs in attempts to properly tie her belt. Perhaps she had bosted to soon on her independence from her maid. She successfully looped the belt, tying the excess into a knot. Rhaenyra grabbed her dagger from the desk to place it back into its sheath. The sound of approaching steps caused her to raise her head slightly, she shook her head before fiddling more with her belt. 
                          
"Please leave the breakfast on the table," she spoke at the sound of her tent opening. Rhaenyra turned, her breath hitched as her eyes met Catelyn's. She slowly whispered, "Cat." She ran to her good mother, embracing her. Catelyn returned her enthusiasm, squeezing her tightly. "Gods bless." 
                          
"Rhea what's goin-" Robb silenced himself at the sight of his mother. He held Henry in his arms, Rhaenyra saw his tensed shoulders drop as he quickly walked to Catelyn. "Mother." He wrapped his free arm around her and Catelyn happily hugged him. She pulled away to let her hand cress her grandson's growing hair. 
                          
"You look positively forlorn," Catleyn clasped her hands together as Robb handed his son to Rhaenyra. 
                          
"Thank you, Catelyn for your kind words." Rhaeanyra sat in the horrid chair, untying the strings at her chest to feed her child. Her eyes moved passed her good mother to see a tall blonde woman who stood against the tent's clothed walls as if she were trying to blend into them. Rhaenyra's finger traced her son's cheek as he suckled, "Who's this?"
                          
"Oh, may I introduce Lady Brienne of Tarth. She was one of Renly's King's Gaurd."
                          
"Was?" Questioned Robb. 
                          
"My king is dead," whispered Brienne. Rhaenyra stiffened at her words. She let her eyes gaze over the two women as Robb began to discuss his mother's visit.  
                          
Catelyn appeared well, but the look in her eye clearly changed from her time at the Baratheon camp. The little happiness her eyes held was diminished, the lines that decorated her face seemed deeper as a new worry cascaded over her. Rhaenyra even noticed Brienne, who stood behind, shared this saddened appearance. Her blue eyes were glazed even as she attempted to stand tall. It was clear she had a dire need to collapse from her heavy emotions.