[ It is almost too much to take in at once. Her son is dead, her life has been forfeit. And when Arya speaks, she is reminded that with them both gone, there is no one to save her, to save Sansa. She does not know if her brother is alive or her uncle, even then they would have little ground to stand on once Robb's army disbanded (and undoubtedly, they would). Her babies are lost to the world now, those who are not dead and buried.
Yes, there are northmen who might remain loyal to House Stark but she cannot expect them, as much as she'd like to, to give up their own safety or families out of honor. Not everyone has such stubborn honor. For a few breathless moments, she feels like the world may crumble beneath her, that all is lost, and she has utterly failed her children in every way.
Arya's words confuse her, she doesn't know how close her daughter was to being there, how close she'd been to holding Arya in her arms once more or how Arya saw the horror of the aftermath. Maybe she will ask later, maybe she won't.
But right now, as her eyes open, she pushes away the anger, the shock, the confusion, and the sorrow to see both of her children standing before her, hurting. And even if she has failed them in another life, she will not here, if she can help it. She moves forward, reaching for Arya first, knowing she will fight it the most, pulling her to her body for an embrace.
I need this as much as they do is what she thinks, tears burning in her eyes now, reaching out for Robb with the hand that doesn't clutch Arya to her chest, trying to draw him into the embrace, her voice ragged with emotion as a tear slips down her cheek.]
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Yes, there are northmen who might remain loyal to House Stark but she cannot expect them, as much as she'd like to, to give up their own safety or families out of honor. Not everyone has such stubborn honor. For a few breathless moments, she feels like the world may crumble beneath her, that all is lost, and she has utterly failed her children in every way.
Arya's words confuse her, she doesn't know how close her daughter was to being there, how close she'd been to holding Arya in her arms once more or how Arya saw the horror of the aftermath. Maybe she will ask later, maybe she won't.
But right now, as her eyes open, she pushes away the anger, the shock, the confusion, and the sorrow to see both of her children standing before her, hurting. And even if she has failed them in another life, she will not here, if she can help it. She moves forward, reaching for Arya first, knowing she will fight it the most, pulling her to her body for an embrace.
I need this as much as they do is what she thinks, tears burning in her eyes now, reaching out for Robb with the hand that doesn't clutch Arya to her chest, trying to draw him into the embrace, her voice ragged with emotion as a tear slips down her cheek.]
I am the one who is sorry. I failed you both.