The snow fell in heaps outside as the evening wind howled like war cries. The coming winter's wrath paid no mind to the broken hearts inside her castle.

I watched the fire crackle in the pit, tucked away in Winterfell's library. My mug of hot tea sat untouched beside me.

As they had for days, the memories clawed at me, like beasts. Like wolves.

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"You're leaving. You're actually leaving."

"We always knew I would. It's time." He had told me. The words struck like knives. I had never thought he would actually leave. Not truly.

"No. No, Jon, I—you can't go! Especially not there! You'll die!"

I thought of all the horror stories my father had told me about that place. Jon had always refused to believe them.

"I'm not gonna bloody die, Cas. I'll have Benjen, and I can take care of myself."

"You'll...you'll freeze! That place is at the edge of the world!" I cried desperately. There was almost nothing I wouldn't say to keep him here. Almost.

"They have fires at Castle Black." He answered—slightly amused, mostly pained.

"Jon, you can't do this. You deserve a life so much better than that place will give you."

"And what life is there for me here? Honestly, what did you expect me to do?"

Something deep within me ached. I don't know—be with me? I longed to say. Gods, I wanted to. But I bit my tongue, like always.

"You'll be gone. I'll never see you. Probably ever again. Do you realize that?" I choked out instead.

"I don't belong here. I need to go be somewhere that I matter, somewhere that I'm more than just a bastard."

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to cry. My face was hot with frustration and anger. He was more to me, and he knew it. Wasn't that enough?

"Away from me."

"It's not about you, Cas." Yet another dagger.

"Clearly."

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His last words rang through my head. The last thing he'd said before I walked out of the barn where we had shared so many laughs, so many secrets since we were old enough to create them.

"This is just what I have to do."I hadn't shown up in the morning to see them off. My best friend was gone, and I had been too stubborn to say goodbye.

I suddenly became overwhelmed with the quiet of the library. I pulled my thick furs around me and walked out, leaving my tea to freeze over. Much like my heart, and this entire grey place.

I walked through the icy courtyard and politely greeted the working people of Winterfell as I passed them by.

Most of them regarded me with sympathetic eyes, sad smiles. It occurred to me for the first time that the rest of the castle would know, of course they'd know, just how devastated I was. Even if they weren't aware of the depth of it, they knew we were best of friends. Always had been. Wherever you find Cas, you'll find Jon, they'd say.

I considered riding into Wintertown to escape the scrutiny, but quickly decided that those stares would be even worse. There, they watched me as if I was a foreigner. As if I didn't belong.

I was a Northern girl, there was no doubt about it. But I wasn't like them. I was born in the mountains.

It wasn't beyond the Wall, but it was close enough for them to eternally brand me as an outsider. Lord Stark had all but named me as his own, but it still wasn't enough for them.

Thanks to this, I hadn't really had anyone growing up.

Except Jon. I had always had Jon.

But he was gone, now. Ned and little Arya, as well. This meant I was truly alone in this place, for the first time since I came here as a small girl.

The weight of it seemed unbearable.

I watched the dark clouds pass as I made my way to the stables, deciding to take Sapphire for a ride in the woods to clear my head. Perhaps the Weirwoods could tell me who the hell I was going to be, without them.

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It was a number of moons later that everything changed. Again.

I emerged from my chambers expecting a quiet, breezy morning and was met with somewhat of a frenzy.

I found Theon in the courtyard, speaking to one of the handmaidens. Of course.

"Theon, what's going on?" I pressed when I reached him. The girl scurried away, and he turned to me. I expected his usual smug expression, but there was fear in his eyes. I shifted uneasily.

"Haven't you heard?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm just asking for fun. What the hell's happened?"

"The king is dead and that little shit Joffrey has taken Lord Stark and the girls as prisoner is what the hell's happened."

A beat of quiet as I processed the words. I mentally ran through them a second time, just to be sure I hadn't misheard him.

"You're joking."

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

It didn't. He looked completely serious. And Theon was never serious. Fear struck me like a knife, sharp and sudden.

He gestured around us. I took a long look, truly taking it in. Raised and hurried voices, running squires, men in armor. The courtyard was in utter chaos. My heart begun to race. Surely this couldn't be.

But I then remembered Joffrey's cruel eyes, his terrible words. If the King had died, I wouldn't put this past that little monster, or his mother.

I turned back to Theon, eyes wide.

"Where's Robb?"

I wasn't sure if I was the face he needed to see, if I'd be any help at all—but I needed to see him.

"Packing his things. He's called for the banners, Cas."

"What?"

"We're going t' war."

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The fierce winds whipped my hair around my face, the cold bite of it stinging my cheeks and noise. I sat on the stump beneath the Weirwood tree with a heavy heart.

When I had reached Robb's chambers, two guards informed me that I was already too late. He had gone.

Robb and I had never exactly been close. To be truthful, in younger years I'd harbored quite a crush on him. My blushing at our every encounter somewhat hindered our ability to be good friends.

And he was always so focused on his training, and when he wasn't holding a sword he was busy chasing one Wintertown girl after the next. Always the charmer, that Robb.

We had both grown out of our ways, by now, though our relationship never quite flourished.

But that didn't mean we weren't family. We'd grown up side by side, after all, even if it wasn't always together.

I needed to speak with someone who understood the pain I now had, the fear. Someone who loved Ned and the girls as I did, and most of all, someone who could tell me if I ought to write to Jon and let him know what had happened.

Robb hadn't even said goodbye, which hurt like hell. And the sheer irony was not lost on me.

I wondered how things had so quickly fallen apart. Again.

A single pair of footsteps in the deepening snow tore me from my thoughts. I stood abruptly, staring off into the trees.

He appeared a moment later, as if summoned by anguish. His curly, red-brown hair was covered in specks of icy flurries and he wore armor beneath his cloak.

He hadn't left yet, after all.

"I thought I might find you here."

I watched him intently as he walked closer to me. He didn't appear afraid or irrational. But his actions told a different tale.

"I thought you'd be gone by now." I answered.

With a hint of a smile on his face, Robb now stood directly before me. Now that he was closer, I could properly see the metal he wore—it was Ned's armor. My heart twinged at the sight.

"You thought I'd leave without a farewell?" He asked, almost playfully.

When we were all very small, we'd played in this very wood. He seemed so young, then, chasing after Jon in my memories. He didn't seem young now.

"I guess I did." I answered timidly, averting my gaze from him. A couple of snowflakes landed on my eyelashes, and I blinked them away.

"So, I suppose you've heard, then."

I nodded. A weighted beat of silence passed between us. I bit my lip, wondering if I should mind my own business. But the words poured out anyway.

"Robb, are you sure about this? Calling the banners, rallying to ride South. This sounds a lot like declaring a war. Is that what you truly want? Are you ready for that?"

It was bold of me; it wasn't my place. But I couldn't hold back. It was too big, too important.

Robb's forehead creased, and he frowned. Deeply. His own worry begun to shine through—I could tell, Jon had the same ticks—but he quickly reeled it back in. All Starks were the same in that way.

"They declared war when they imprisoned my father and sisters. Besides, it doesn't have to come to head if they surrender my family without a fight. Which I fully expect them to do."

"If you say so."

It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself instead of me, but I let it pass. I knew the weight of it, but I also knew the lack of other options. And Robb knew the same.

"Look, I didn't come here for your judgement, though I value it," he said, his voice substantially lighter. "I came here to propose something to you."

I watched him, wildly curious, now.

"What is it?"

"Come with me."

My mind faltered—my jaw nearly fell open in surprise. Come with him? South? That didn't make any sense at all.

Surely he was joking.

But his face was as serious as I'd ever seen it. His blue eyes were stern, un-laughing.

"Me? Why me? I don't know the first thing about politics or war strategies." I protested, slightly flustered. Did he know what he was asking of me?

"You know my father, you know what we're fighting for. And you know me."

I was suddenly feeling a hundred things at once. This was ridiculous, utterly insane.

But I suppose...I suppose he had a point. I did know. Ned had raised me, and his sisters were practically mine, as well. I would do anything to bring them home. But could I ever possibly handle war?

"Cassidy, I trust you," Robb said slowly, tentatively. "And I need people I can trust. Now more than ever."

Part of me wanted to laugh, another yearned to cry. It was simultaneously the most absurd and perfectly natural idea I'd ever heard. What was I to do with that?

I could only stare at him, mouth agape as I attempted to say a hundred different things and failing each time.

"What do you say? Will you come along and be my council?"

The snow continued to fall around us, faster now, seeming to cover the whole world in white as the moment dragged on. Somewhere in the distance, a crow cried out.