A couple more days passed, which Hera spent grieving from the loss of her sister. No one except herself and Robb had known about her siblings survival, so she made sure to act normal when others were around. And as the days went, the pain dimmed down, but there would always be a permanent mark in her heart.

Robb was understanding, and he didn't pressure her into attending meetings, instead letting her stay in their temporary chamber. She would normally stand by the window, gazing out into the courtyard. After a while though, she had realised that no good would come out of her brooding and grieving all day. It wouldn't bring her sister back.

"How are you feeling?" Robb asked her one afternoon as they stood in the chamber. Hera was standing by the window, the rain outside sending a sense of calmness over her. At his question, she removed her eyes away from the dark skies, letting them rest on his face instead. He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest on her stomach softly. She had no signs of a bump yet, but it was still early in her pregnancy.

She sighed, letting her emerald eyes wander back to the raindrops which were pouring down outside, soaking everything in its way. "Better," she answered. Robb still looked at her with concern. "I mean it," she insisted. Robb nodded, but he still seemed unsure. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, causing her to smile softly.

"Good," he answered relieved. "You being upset isn't good for either you or the child."

"Pardon me your grace, my queen." Hera flinched in shock, her head whipping to the side to see who spoke. Roose Bolton stood by the door, which she hadn't even heard being opened. Upon realising that it was just him, she let out a sigh, letting herself relax slightly, but not entirely. There was still something strange about that man.

"Lord Bolton," Robb greeted, stepping away from his wife. "Let me guess, which one is the good news?" Lord Bolton was holding two letters in his hands, and by the look on his face, she guessed that there was bad news.

"Word from Riverrun," Lord Bolton answered, still keeping the grim look on his face. "And Winterfell." Hera sucked in a deep breath. Maybe they had found Bran and Rickon? Maybe they were safe?

Robb walked over to Lord Bolton and took the letter from Riverrun out from his hands. He read over the letter quickly, and by the way his face fell, Hera guessed that the letter held bad news. Robb looked up from the letter, swallowing down the lump which had formed in his throat.

"What is it?" Hera asked, her eyes wide.

"My grandfather, Hoster Tully, has passed." Hera gasped. She walked over to Robb and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Robb."

"Don't be," he answered. "He was a sick and old man. He's in a better place now. I just dread giving the news to mother." He sighed deeply, before he gave the letter back to Lord Bolton. He then took the letter from Winterfell, reading over that as well. However, Hera stood beside him, so she read the letter at the same time as him.

The letter held anything but good news. When the Bolton men had arrived at Winterfell, it was abandoned and burned down, without a single person in sight. And the worst part, there was no sign of Bran and Rickon. They could be dead for all she knew! Hera wanted to scream in frustration. Why was it that whenever things were well, something bad happened? Why couldn't there be some happy news soon? It seemed like they were stuck in a dark pit, and they couldn't get out.

When would the sun shine on them again?

*

The next day, they rode for Riverrun to attend Lord Hoster Tully's funeral. Lord Bolton and his men would guard Harrenhal until they returned, which Hera felt a bit unsure about.

Lady Catelyn hadn't been happy to hear about the death of her father nor that two of her children were missing. She was deeply saddened, and took to isolate herself from everyone else. She hadn't said much since she was told the news, but Hera understood her pain, therefore she didn't bother the older woman.

They had been riding for a couple of hours, and frankly, Hera's butt was starting to ache. It was a relief when Robb announced that they would take a break. Hera more than gladly jumped down from her horse, landing on the muddy ground with a thud. She took a big swig of water from the water pouch she carried with her, sighing as the cold liquid settled in her stomach.

A sensation of being watched caused an uneasy feeling to grow in her stomach. She bit her lip while slowly turning her head. She narrowed her eyes as they connected with Lord Karstark's judging eyes. She felt shocked by his rude stare, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she looked away. She spotted Lady Catelyn sitting by herself, knitting something. She decided to walk over to her, but it was mostly just to get away from Lord Karstark's burning stare.

At her approach, Lady Catelyn looked up. Hera gave her a small smile which was meant to seem comforting, but probably looked more like a grimace. She slowly sat down beside the woman, watching as she knitted. Finally, she decided to ask the question that everyone wanted to know the answer to. "How are you?"

Lady Catelyn stopped knitting, instead choosing to stare into the air. She knew that Hera meant well, but she really wasn't in the mood to talk about her two potentially dead children. "How do you think?"

Hera sighed deeply. She knew that Catelyn didn't intend to snap at her, which was why she didn't take it to heart. She decided to ignore it and switch the subject. "I've seen you make that many times," she stated, while gesturing towards the thing laying in Catelyn's lap. "What is it?"

"It's a prayer wheel," she finally answered after a short pause. "I'm making it to pray for Bran and Rickon."

Hera nodded. Maybe she could help?

"Can I help?"

"No!" Catelyn snapped. Hera flinched at her outburst, widening her eyes in shock. Catelyn sighed upon noticing her expression. She didn't mean to be rude, but she was just under a lot of stress, and she wasn't handling it that well.

"You can't help, only a mother can make them."

Hera fiddled with her fingers, debating on whether or not she should tell her about her pregnancy. Only Robb knew, but surely the grandmother of the child had a right to know as well?

"I'm with child," Hera calmly announced.

Catelyn froze, her eyes snapping up to look at Hera's face, before they moved to her flat stomach. Becoming a grandmother made her happy, but the happiness was overshadowed by the stress she was feeling. "That is wonderful news," she finally answered, giving Hera the best smile she could muster. "Congratulations."

Hera's eyebrows furrowed, but she smiled back nevertheless. Hera sensed that Lady Catelyn wanted to be alone, which was why she stood up, gathering her skirts in her hands. She gave Catelyn one last look, before she turned on her heel and walked back to where most of the soldiers were gathered.

The sun shone brightly and the birds were chirping, but on the skies, a dark cloud was appearing.