Arya

She sat in the third floor corridor, letting the tears stream down her face. "It was my fault," she thought. "I took his jacket in the storm. I should of known he was sick in the stables. I let him do all the work while I told him my silly quarrel with Sansa."

"Arya," she heard being called. Quickly she dashed behind a thick blue/gray curtain. She tried to steam the flow of grief running down her cheeks.

"Arya," this time louder. She heard footsteps taping down the long hallway. Suddenly they stopped and the curtain was pulled up, leaving leaving her starring up at her red haired brother. He scooped her up into her arms. As he squeezed tighter, the tears began to flow in ernest once again. She buried he head in Robb's shoulder.

"He won't die." It came so softly she was sure it was her mind was playing tricks on hear, but as Rob set her down. The look in his bright blue eyes told her it wasn't her it was no trick.

"He won't die," he repeated louder this time.

"But he...he...," she paused the tears threatening to spill over. She took a breath. "Is unconscious," 'because of me' she finished silently.

"Unconscious is not dead, little sister."

'Litter sister,' she froze.

"Jon calls me that."

"I know, and now he needs you. Luwin says the next day or so will be rough, but if he makes it through he'll be fine."

"He has always been there for us, working harder than us, now we must be there for him."

When Arya looked up up at her older brother she noticed the raw, red flesh around his eyes. He had been crying