"My lady, what are you doing?" Elaine questioned as she stirred awake from her cot across the tent. She rubbed her tired eyes, yawning loudly as her eyes register how late it was, the hour night must have been unholy for Ladies and yet here was one of the most important, strapping her boots on and adjusting her dress. She hadn't heard her, not even noticing the few candles that illuminated the tent just enough for someone to walk without stumbling.

Victoria cursed herself lowly for awakening the blonde, offering her a sheepish smile. "My apologies, Elaine, I hoped to not make much noise. I can't sleep anymore, I thought maybe a nice walk could tire me. Maybe I'll start the day early."

"No apology necessary, Victoria," Elaine said with sincerity as she prepared to stand. "Give me time to change and I'll follow—"

Victoria stood with her hands up and shook her head, "God's no, you're tired and I've already troubled you enough. Sleep, get rest for tomorrow we will be riding longer than ever before. Sir Trout will be awake, he mentioned assuring our travels. I'll ask him for a walk."

"You know what the others will say this late at night." Elaine readjusted herself in the warm cot, voice low as she tried not to offend.

Victoria rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders as lifted her father coat, "let them talk, at least I'll walk in public, not in the silent meadows where no eyes fall."

Her voice was bitter as she fastened the button of the coat and her cheeks reddened, Robb would never learn, she thought silently. The thought now seemed like nothing more then a statement, anger began to lessen after her talk with Jamie. Perhaps she'd said more truths in those words then she'd done for the last few months. It seemed like she'd hidden many things, even more then she'd anticipated.

Her head had swirled after the conversation with the Kingslayer, thoughts of him repeated, that sorting smile he'd given her. He'd won, even covered in dirt and injured, trapped like a caged animal, there was no denying that somehow he had always been right. The Lannister has guessed correctly, and it seemed like the panther was coming to agree.

"Victoria," Elaine has gained her attention.

Victoria had lost herself, eyes directed towards her tightened fists before she sucked in a cold breath of air and soothed her nerves. "I need to walk, Elaine, that's it. There are too many thoughts, I want to leave some out in the open air."

Elaine nodded, turning back to her cot and readjusting.

Victoria quietly made her way out, nodding her head politely to the soldiers that guarded her tent. They looked back at her and bowed respectfully. "Lady Valiente."

The Valiente soldiers had never taken to calling her Queen, and for that she was grateful. Her brethren knew better and were perceptive.

"Sir Braxton, Sir Escape, I apologize if I frightened you." She spoke to them kindly, noticing how their teeth seemed to chatter with the cold but as they looked at her it stopped. The gold of their armor glitters in the moonlight when they stand straight and proud of their Lady.

"Nonsense, my lady, is there something we can do for you," Braxton asks, smiling at his Liege lady.

"Would one of you escort me kindly to Sir Trout's tent, I wish to speak with him." She says softly. It's a question but she knows neither of them would refuse, neither of them would dare say a thing to the future queen. She might have been betrothed to a northern king but the south would always be loyal, they would always stand behind her.

Braxton bowed, "I'll take you, my lady."

She welcomed his walked and turned to Bowes, "Elaine still sleeps, please make sure she is not disturbed unless it is important."

He nods, posture back in the same defensive position as if she were sound asleep in her tent. At Winterfell, the guards would have whined or falsely agreed to her orders but not the Dornes, everyone was equal and for a person nearly of royalty, it meant their word was law. Elaine was treated with every bit of respect as her Queen Lady.

Lord Braxton then turned and awaited the Lady's steps to catch up with his own, walking the short distance to Trouts, candlelight still flickering on.

"Thank you, Sir." She told the kind knight as she stepped closer to the open tent flap and peered inside.

Sir Trout has his body positioned over a table, eyeing the map alongside the Lord Commander, neither of which had noticed her intrusion.

"You two must get some sleep." She called out, surprising them as they turned quickly to look her way.

Trout was the first to look at her. She had never been inside his quarters, not even in Winterfell. This felt different, like another person. She looked exhausted, he noted how her eyes were slightly dimmed and there was darkening skin just below her eyes. No matter the smile upon her face he could see past it, he always had been able to do that.

"My Lady," he straightened up and walked her way. "What a surprise to see you awake at such an hour."

"Yes, well, I can't afford the luxury of a restless night anymore. This war is dragging on, and I'm beginning to feel suffocated, would you care for a walk?" Her response was quick and though she knew that a sworn knight could never refuse a lady, she still asked because she respected him more than anyone else.

"I'll take my leave, my tent has its own candles that need burning." The Lord Commander is graceful as he bows to his Lady and bids a goodnight, leaving the two in the makeshift doorway.

"Shall we take our walk?" Sir Trout Asia, gesturing for the Lady walk into the brisk air first.

She nods and allows him to follow in step with her. The air was warmer the further south they arrived, even with the absence of the sun there was no need for such warm coats. Most of the northern soldiers were no longer wearing heavy armor, some even walked with their bare chests and only the flimsy material of their black slacks. She nodded at them when she passed, and most kept their eyes downturned too stop from eyeing.

She knew why, the dress she'd chosen was a bit risqué, not at all suitable for a Queen, but of course that had never been her title.

Sir Trout kept his eyes on the men; glaring at anyone who looked at her too long, "anywhere, in particular, you'd like."

"Just away, away from the smell of the north." She admitted, keeping her voice low as she was partially ashamed to admit this. "It feels suffocating like I'm being buried alive by snow. I'd like to walk east, to watch the rising sun."

He agreed, leading the way through the many tents, from the rowdy fires of drunk men to the much more silent tents of the northern Lords. They walked until they'd come to the edge of the camp and there was instep.

"Some men will talk." Trout was the first to speak, noticing how sparse the area they walked was, he would keep his eyes peeled for any spies.

Victoria smiled, and she took a step closer, looking her arm into Trouts so they were conjoined. "They speak enough about me as is, what's one more rumor? At least we know this one to be false."

Trout didn't resist, focusing on keeping his walk steady and from anything that could catch onto her dress. "What are we doing our her, my lady."

"I need to speak with someone who's known me for years, from every point in my life so far. Who better than the knight who's sworn his life to mine?" Her response is soft as if she's running ahead of them.

Trout looks at her and gets enough sunlight to glimpse the streak of worry. She was growing thin lines around her eyes now, small creases indented right between the hair of her brows. She may have been growing older but something of its mix made her just beautiful, like all the death and worry harder the armor of her enchantment.

"Go on then and for our sake, please, do not hold back." He pats the top of her hand and trails her further into the forest. Her dress brushes against the dead foliage of the ground, alerting any animals of their presence.

"If I were to tell you that I wanted out what would you say?" She spoke softly, almost as if the trees were spies of their own and would carry her words through the canopies and into the wrong ears.

Trout smirked which's he found odd, he wasn't the type to smile but this one seemed to be long awaited. Victoria looks at him impatiently to see his response and a long sigh escape him, "well, Lady Valiente, that depends on what you want out of? The war, our journey, or your marriage? Perhaps you want out of the Starks all together."

"And what would you say to any of these requests?"

Again, Trout smiled, "well I'd say your wish is my command, my lady, and you'd have a fleet to escort you home within a night. Your uncles would likely negotiate on your end, perhaps even the Lannister's would give you a safe passage. You could be gone before the Starks would know what happened. The King in the north would know nothing until you were a safe distance into the south."

Victoria closes her eyes and allowed a cold breath to enter her lungs, it almost ached like the little winter they had was attacking her for even thinking of leaving. Her bottom lip trembled, "do you think me a coward for considering the idea? I'm abandoning the quest for vengeance against my father if I do, I'm abandoning the love I have for the Starks."

"My Lady, your father would have wanted you in the safety of the last family you have and as for the Starks—"

Trout stopped the end of his sentence, looking away.

"The Starks what? Please, you've been with me all these years do not abandon me in this moment." Her hand clutched his arm as if she would fall, and eyes widened as she begged.

Trout stared into them, his heart beating so rapidly it felt ready to jog. He closed them tightly and continued, "the Starks have not entirely been faithful to you, Lady Valiente, Lord Stark is off blaming you for abandoning him when it has been him doing it. Lady Stark does nothing to reign her son in, and you stand here with more wounds than most. I feel as if your departure might not even affect them at all."

Victoria felt a gentle tear drift down, her fears became true now as the most trusted of her people told her a brutal truth.

"So you think it's possible? For me to leave?" She questioned and her hand wiped the tear away, eyes on the horizon in which she could see the looming sun just beginning to lift.

A chuckle left his lips, "oh lady Victoria, there are men in this camp who would kill for a smile from you, and with the Lord Commander here there is no denying it."

"Hm," she hummed. "It's a pretty thought, away from this. Save some of these men, live out the rest of my life in a Dornish colony."

"Yes, it is." Trout agreed.

He watched her, as the sun lifted higher and she consumed in its gentle warmth, the vulnerable girl who'd spoken to him on their walk soon departed and the reigning Queen of the north returned. Her arms crossed and she cleared her throat, "it's time for us to return to camp now, I'd like to hold onto this fantasy a while longer."

Trout said nothing and walked a few steps behind her, letting her lead as well as drift into her thoughts.

When they were about halfway back the hooves of a horse were heard, and the pair looked at one another as if to question who had followed them.

The banner of a Stark soon appeared and Victoria wondered if it might be Robb sending for her return or something much graver.

The rider reined in the horse as he came upon Lady Valiente, "My Queen, something has happened. The Lannister has escaped."

"Seven hells!" Victoria cursed as she felt her body shift into a frenzy. "How could this have happened?"

"Lady Stark has taken responsibility."

|•|•|•|•|

"FUCKING LANNISTER CUNTS!" She cursed loudly, and she felt as if she was fuming. Victoria felt like her eyes burned and every bone in her body filled with energy as she huffed the longer the news had settled in. She was back in the camps, amongst the other Lords who were just as angry, and though most made it vocal none were like her.

Jamie Lannister was gone.

He had escaped.

With aid of nonother then Catelyn Stark and her sworn Knight of all people.

The glass full of wine that was meant to ease her nerves was thrown across the mess hall as she stood and ignored the eyes upon her.

Sir Trout followed her movements, lazily putting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he awaited any sudden movement from the men that surrounded them. She hadn't been able to sleep, something was trouble the pretty brunette that late night. And so instead of kept to her quarters deep in the Valiente camp, she had taken herself for a brisk walk in the morning air but nothing was ever to be calm in the presence of a queen; before long they'd sent for her along with the king who'd also gone for a walk with lesser-known company.

"My Lady, the King-" Lord Glover attempted to reason, seeming to be the only of the old men who were willing to do anything.

"Is out with some whore," she sneers, her fists bundles until she could feel anything instead of the desire to choke someone. "While his mother conspired to release the Kingslayer and leave us with no advantage in this bloody war! We have no hostage, no clue of the terrain we will cross, and every advantage we seemed to have gained over these long nights are as gone as Jamie Lannister."

Lord Monterroso suddenly looked toward Sir Trout, eyebrows raises and mouth set in a thin line, afraid to even speak a word to anyone in the room as the Queen would likely go off. This had been the first time anyone had heard her this upset, or even speaking in such a way.

"The King has arrived!" Someone yelled out from outside the makeshift hall.

Victoria seemed to burst into rage and all she could think was Robb had made her look like a fool, the Starks has done this to her. The King in the North was about to feel a Southern rulers fury, and he would be the one humiliated.

The messenger jumped out of her way and the Lord followed behind her, the two most trusted knights already flanking the young women's sides. She was like the dark most of a night as she swept up to the Stark without warning.

Robb might have been on his horse but with the combined wrath of his beloveds rage and the northern lords behind her, he promptly dropped from his horse. Victoria was barely fazed by Talisa's' presence, and every courteous gesture she'd known as a lady left her body as she became possessed by mad women. Her eyes narrowed at the nurse who's eyes were averted, and this time she would no longer give her the grace of dismissing her quietly. "Lady Talisa, I see you've once more distracted the King from his duties. Perhaps you are a spy after all."

Robb looked her way, eyes narrowing by the second as he spoke to this woman who was quickly captured his heart with such malice. Victoria's eyes held a certain coldness in them he'd only seen a handful of time before all this chaos but now it seemed strange if that same look did not appear at least once when they saw one another. He often asked himself what he had done to earn such stares, what it was he was desperately missing but in that very look, he could see that truth would never be revealed to him.

Talisa looked at him desperately to desperately speak with his queen, to have her understand or reign in her anger but the young nurse knew that she at fault. She stared at the king and saw the very look he gave her often mirrored towards this raging queen. He was in love with her, as she was with him, as he was with her, the nurse. Robb loved to women, and Talisa knew it very well.

Victoria had no words for the King, nothing she could condense into soft words. There was too much poison in her, too much malice that threatened to spew and even if she no longer wanted the North, even if it was easier to run towards the shadows she knew that now was not the time.

Her breath reigned in, to give her a chance to breathe out and she turned her eyes to the man she'd once loved unconditionally, and now that very love teetered with so many aggressive thoughts. She felt disgusted to look at him but it was her duty, "your mother awaits you in her tent. I wish for you to speak with her first, I am not in a polite mood."

She walked away, followed by her guard and maiden, the male of which spoke to her, "what do we do now my queen?"

"Find the best trackers and hunters, send two of them in search of the Kingslayer. We will handle this, I am tired of letting the Starks take all reigns of this war." She ordered. "And have someone bring me ale to my tent, I need a drink."

Greywind twitched in his sleep, atop her bed the wolf snored softly in pure ecstasy as his mother ran her nimble fingers against the warmth of his fur and allowed him a moment of pure bliss, meanwhile, her world was burning in front of her. The nurse needed to go, that much was for certain but she feared without Talisa then Robb might truly be lost to her, still what was she to do? She supposed all Kings had loves outside of marriage but that still did not make it right and certainly not if he kept it from her.

Her thoughts ran to her Uncle Oberyn and many of the Dornish men and women she knew, they all loved outside of the person they were meant to honor and none of them batted an eye to it much less raged with fury. She had already accepted Robb would marry a Frey girl after her, what was one more woman?

And as she reasoned with herself the night seemed to grow colder, her skin became dotted with goosebumps and she closed her eyes as she tried to rid herself of the idea. Robb loved Talisa, she saw it in his eyes earlier, she'd known all along and when a man loved a woman they'd create life, she knew the tale well.

Loving the child was another matter, her head ran off and she envisioned the children from her dreams many moons ago playing with a child that mirrored Talisa. Perhaps she would love this child, maybe not as much as she would love her own but a babe was not at faults for the mistakes of the past and she would hold no malice. She finished her cup and shut her eyes, the drink was strong if she was already seeing into the future, but how could she not?

"You love him, and he loves you as he loves her." She muttered to herself as a tear dripped from her face in a solitary stance much like how she felt in that moment. Her knight was off doing her bidding, her handmaid was likely off still doing her best to keep the secret of her and the Lord Commander, and she was alone, contemplating her lonely heart and the many faults it brought her.

Her hand cradled was once the concentrated love she had for Robb, the child she'd done it all for and instead lost. Perhaps things might have been different if she had married him, if she had told him back when they were still home, in Winterfell. Perhaps she'd be happy, married, and assured of her place in his heart and now all of that had burned away with her bloodstained sheets and any trace of that child she'd lost.

Robb was supposed to come to her tent soon, maybe they could speak, really speak, and things could somehow end better then they were, maybe in a manner where all were happy.

The opening of her tent pulled back and she grew hopeful that it was Robb, that he had to been thinking about their position but it was not meant to be and perhaps it was never meant to be.

In stepped Elaine, Marcos Trout, and Dominic Monterroso, all with a grim expression and saddened eyes.

She dropped the cup as did every last shred of hope or happiness once they spoke.

So I watched the latest
episode of GOT (S8 Ep.5) and
I just wanna say that I will be
rewriting the last season in a
way I can see it properly ending
for this story and all the stories
that will be tied with it.