Prologue

The southern night air was warm and breezy; however, it brought no comfort to Fiona. She would remember this dreadful night for years to come. Tonight, the rest of her life would change – for the worse.

"Lady Baratheon, shouldn't you come inside, night is beginning," Ser Alistair, her personal guard, called to her from the gates of the Red Keep. "I will escort you, if you wish."

Fiona looked back from where she stood a short distance from the gates. His armor looked recently polished and his beard was newly trimmed. How could he be so vain at a time like this? What was he celebrating, she wondered. She also saw a subtle look of pity on the old man's face. A surge of anger flared inside her. Who was he to pity her? But just as quickly as it had come, the anger subsided.

"That is quite alright, Alistair, but I have a farewell to bid. I will return to my chambers fine by myself," she said, though a little sharper than she intended.

Alistair nodded his bald head in acknowledgement and retreated into the Red Keep, leaving Fiona alone and with a sense of foreboding. She turned her head to the stables, where she knew he would leave soon enough; with the brown horse she gave him, packed for the journey north.

As she watched the entrance to it, the sadness she had tried to bury inside herself for so long seemed to finally emit itself. She felt tears stinging her eyes and she gripped her thin dress, as though fighting the tears, hardly daring to let them fall. She needed to be strong now, she realized. There was no place for the weak in this world; the bitter truth had revealed itself to her. Why did it have to turn out this way? She asked herself. How could the old gods and the new be so cruel? Tonight was the last night she would ever look upon his face. . .

After what felt like an eternity, movement caught her eye from the stables, and he strode out of the building with the mare she had named Sadie, which she had given to him as a gift of departure.

He spotted her where she was, a few feet away from the Red Gate and walked over to her. She saw on his face for the very first time a look of deep hurt. She had never seen him look hurt before.

He stopped a few paces in front of her and bowed his head in solemn greeting. He was well dressed for the journey. It seemed he had already donned the black outfit of the Wall. He was a man of the Night's Watch now, Fiona realized. "My lady," he said softly, and with much remorse.

"Let me go with you," Fiona said pleadingly, "At least allow me to accompany you to the Wall."

He looked at her with such sadness; she thought he might actually cry. But he said, "I wish you could, but it would be much harder to say goodbye later on. It would be easier for both of us if we parted ways right now. Fiona – " and here she actually saw tears fill his eyes, "– I do not want you to give up a wonderful life for me. I want you to be happy, to marry a noble man who is not stupid like I am. And your brother needs you here, as part of his council. I love you, Fiona, and I really do want to marry you. I would have spent the rest of my life by your side, but I am forced to go to the Night's Watch and I do not want you to live a miserable life. I will pay the consequence for my foolishness and I don't want you to suffer on account of me."

Those were the words she feared. She did not want to part ways with him, not ever. But she saw the reasoning in his words. If he refused to take up the black, he would be executed. And if she went with him, she could not stay. If he went, there would be a chance for them to see each other again; someday in the future their paths might cross. And at least, they could write, though the distance between them would be great.

"Benjen," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. He came closer to her then, and embraced her, bringing her close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck. She breathed in the familiar scent of his leather armor. She savored this moment, knowing there would never be another one like it in the days to come. She felt drops of liquid on her bare shoulder and she realized his tears must have betrayed him as well.

"I love you, Fiona. I always will. Do not despair, you deserve all the happiness in the world," he whispered into her ear. These words made her cry harder and she sobbed, "I love you, Benjen. Forever and always."

He let go of her and looked at her tear – stained face. He wiped a tear from her face gently with a callused thumb. He said, "Goodbye fair maiden. Many days and pleasant nights." And he put his hand behind her head, bringing her face closer to his and he kissed her gently, but deeply. As he pulled away, she said, "Farewell, Lord Stark. May your sword stay sharp."

He gazed upon her face one last time as though drinking in all of its beauty, and then he mounted his horse and rode away swiftly, towards the darkness of the King's Road, without looking back.

"I love you, Benjen," she whispered to the empty darkness as his shadow disappeared.