Happiness is different from pleasure.

Happiness has something to do with struggling,

and enduring,

and accomplishing.

-George Sheehan

Chapter Four - A Tale of Two Betrothals

Winterfell

Sometime in the middle of the day, Caryssa was getting frustrated by the amount of people that seemed to be packed within the castle. So she went to seek refuge in her usual place; the Godswood. She sat in front of the Heart Tree, her head bowed and her eyes closed. She loved the quiet of the forest, the only sounds to be heard were the rustling of the leaves and the cheerful chirping of birds. Caryssa understood why her father would come out here after an execution, to pray to the gods and clean his sword. It was peaceful enough that you could clear your head and sort through the noise within your thoughts.

Caryssa would always come out to the Godswood, to sit in front of the Heart Tree, when she was little. Often she'd find her father out here, and they'd sit together in the silence of the woods. She'd sit on the ground while he sat on a small stone seat, and she'd lean against his legs and he'd run his fingers through her hair while they both worked through their own thoughts. Sometimes they'd talk through problems that her father was having, she would offer her opinion and he'd take what she said into consideration. Her mother would joke that Caryssa was more her father's advisor than his daughter at times and that she was too wise for someone so young.

Perhaps she was too wise for her own good. Caryssa had always had a knack for knowing when something was going to change, when something was coming in the horizon. It wasn't anything that wasn't natural, she wasn't a seer or a witch, she just had good instincts. For example, the king's arrival in Winterfell spelt a change coming that she knew that she wasn't going to like. Her father would have no choice but to accept the king's offer of becoming the Hand of the King, and he would leave Winterfell. That was a change that Caryssa did not want. They were of the North, their blood ran differently to those in the South, they were different, and Ryssa knew that she couldn't protect her father if he were in the South. She wouldn't be able to race to his side quickly enough to protect him.

She shook her head of those thoughts. Her father was Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, he had put a king on the throne and stopped rebellions, he could look after himself, even if her instincts were telling her that sometimes even that wouldn't be enough.

Caryssa was certain that everyone would be too busy or too occupied with the feast tonight to bother her here, even praying to the Gods to give a few moments peace, but her prayers went unanswered. She heard the snapping of twigs underneath feet, and turned her head to see that Jaime Lannister stood behind her, leaning casually against a tree, though no longer in his golden and white armour. Caryssa supposed that he would look a lot less intimidating like this, than he did in his armour, though Caryssa herself couldn't say that she felt intimidated by his presence. It was more a lust that she wouldn't give into. A Lannister was not someone she as a Stark wanted to involve herself with.

While a wolf is not afraid of a lion, both being predators, a wolf is wise not to venture too close to a lion, lest they rip each other apart.

"What do you pray for, Lady Stark, on a happy occasion such as this?" He questioned, as he took in her moment of surprise before she stamped it out, schooling a mask of indifference on her face.

"On a happy occasion such as this, I pray for the patience to deal with unwanted attention from Lannister lions, Ser Jaime. Clearly the gods have their attentions elsewhere today." Caryssa replied, smiling at him briefly, a sarcastic smile to match her witty words.

"The Ice Lady has a wit. What a lovely surprise," Caryssa scowled at Jaime, before turning around to face the Heart Tree again, choosing to ignore him. She stared down at her pale hands, wondering how they could still be smooth and soft in spite of the cold weathers she had grown in, and hoped he would simply leave as his presence troubled her. Was no where sacred anymore? She had been certain that none of the Southerners wouldn't come into the place of the Old Gods. "Have I offended you, my lady? I do hope that you accept my most humblest of apologies."

"I'm sorry to say that I don't take any notice of honeyed words from pretty men, Ser," Caryssa rose to her feet, brushing leaves away and flicking mud from the bottom of her skirts, and turned to face him. "And an apology is only humble when the person giving it truly means it, and is not using it to disguise his smugness and arrogance."

"Your words wound me, Lady Stark. What have I done to earn such cynicism?" Jaime questioned, strolling towards her and Caryssa fought the impulse to step backwards like a skittish animal. She saw the amusement in his green eyes, eyes she noticed were not as cold as his sister's were. He was enjoying this.

"Nothing, Ser, except being a Lannister. I have been warned that it is not wise for a lady to play with lions." Caryssa replied, now having to look up to keep looking into his eyes as he had moved directly in front of her. Her sense of propriety and decency, as well as her mistrust of men, was telling her that she should step away, leave before he could do anything to compromise her honor, but the arrogance in his eyes and her own stubbornness rooted her feet to the very ground where she stood.

"Or for a knight to play with wolves, but you don't strike me as the type of lady to stick to the rules, Lady Stark."

Caryssa took a confident step forward, eliminating a large amount of the space between them, surprising the lion with her boldness. She had surprised herself, allowing herself to be in a rather intimate position with a strange man who was not her husband or even her betrothed, but she continued anyway.

"It has been my experience, Ser Jaime, that rules are more like guidelines in a game," Caryssa said, smiling at him, and he blinked in surprise at the difference between the cold, blank expression she had had before and the beaming smile she had plastered on her face now. It made her even more pleasing to look at, if that were possible. "In any case, I don't recall inviting you to play."

With those final words, Caryssa left the golden knight in front of the Heart Tree, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

She had been toe-to-toe with the golden lion, and walked away without a scratch, that was a victory to be proud of.

After her brief encounter with Jaime Lannister, Caryssa headed to Sansa's room, knowing that her younger sister would want to choose the dress she would wear and how she was going to have her hair so that she wouldn't get embarrassed by her older sister's appearance. Caryssa insisted that she was perfectly capable of dressing herself, but when it came to feasts and princes and dresses, Sansa was not one to be argued with.

So that was where Caryssa was, lying across her sister's bed, watching her mother braid Sansa's beautiful red hair. Sansa was wearing one of her own creations, a pretty blue gown, and she was having her mother braid her hair in an elaborate Southern style in honour of their guests.

"Do you think Joffrey will like me? What if he thinks I'm ugly?" Sansa questioned, and Caryssa had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Her sister valued nothing more than approval from the prince and the rest of the royal family. It quite annoyed Caryssa, who believed that no one's opinion or approval mattered but that of your blood. Family, Duty, Honor was the motto of House Tully, her mother's family, and Caryssa took that seriously. Family first, duty second, and honor third.

"Then he is the stupidest prince that ever lived." Catelyn told her daughter, and Caryssa nodded.

"And a blind fool to boot." Caryssa added, sitting up and looking at her sister as the girl stared at her reflection in a hand held mirror.

"He's so handsome. When would we be married? Soon? Or do we have to wait?" Sansa questioned, and Caryssa frowned. Sansa was in love with the idea of love, of marrying a prince and bearing his children. She didn't seem to understand the reality of it. Joffrey could be a cruel, evil little brute underneath the nice, charming exterior, and Sansa wouldn't know it until it was too late.

"Hush now. Your father hasn't even said yes." Their mother reminded her, continuing to braid the silky red strands of her daughter's hair.

"Why would he say no? He'd be the second most powerful man in the kingdoms." Sansa replied, and Caryssa shook her head at the little wolf.

"Father would have to leave Winterfell, leave mother, and you along with him. Winter is coming, little wolf, and when winter comes, what do the wolves do?" Caryssa questioned, rising to her feet and moving into her sister's eye line. Sansa sighed, and stared at her sister stubbornly until she knew that she was waiting for an answer.

"The wolves stay in the den and protect each other, but, Caryssa, I'd be queen someday," Sansa said, before turning to look at her mother, with wide, pleading eyes. "Please make Father say yes! Please, please! It's the only thing I ever wanted."

"Let's drop this discussion for now. What dress do you plan to wear to the feast, Ryssa?" Catelyn questioned her eldest, and the young woman smiled in response at her mother's quick subject change, and decided to help her.

"I was thinking of the grey one that I wore for Robb's last namesday. It's pretty enough." Caryssa replied, shrugging her shoulders in indifference. She did not care for feasts. She was too much like her father. They both felt like a bear in a trap when it came to feasts, although, Caryssa did enjoy dancing, so she would often try and miss the first part of the feast to arrive just in time for the dancing and would then leave just as quickly. Though that would not be the case with this feast, she would be obligated to stay as long as possible as it was a feast for the king.

"I actually had a dress made especially for you for this special occasion. Sansa helped. It's in the Southern style, in honour of our guests." Her mother said, finishing Sansa's last braid, and leaving the room to go fetch the dress.

Caryssa gave Sansa a curious look, and Sansa feigned innocence, which made her elder sister laugh at her obviousness. Ryssa sat back down on the bed, and waited for her mother to return, trying to persuade her sister to give her more details about the dress that she knew next to nothing about. Sansa refused to cooperate however, saying that it was a surprise, and Ryssa just grew more frustrated and antsy.

She had never been a fan of surprises. Especially when they were often bad.

This one turned out to be one of those rare, wonderful surprises.

Her mother waltzed back into the room, a dress of light blue cotton - with a layer of silk above it so that it was beautiful, but warm in the Northern temperatures - draped across her arms. It didn't have sleeves, but Caryssa was used to the cold northern air, and she would be inside most of the night anyway. Caryssa took the dress from her mother's arms, and looked at it more closely. There was silver embroidery on the bodice, that just added to the beauty of the gown. It was most definitely the most beautiful dress that Caryssa owned.

"It's beautiful. Thank you both." Caryssa said, before she disappeared behind the screen in Sansa's room, and undressed.

She slipped the new gown on, smoothing the skirt out and loving the feel of silk underneath her hands. Most of her gowns were made from thick cottons or wool because of the temperatures, so silk was a rare thing for her to come across. She felt every bit the Beauty of the North in the gown she was now wearing. She moved out from behind the screen, and turned her back to her mother, who promptly moved forwards to tie the laces up in the back.

When Caryssa turned around, after settling the jewel of her necklace over the neck of her dress, both her mother and her sister cooed at her apparent beauty, and then forced her into the seat that Sansa quickly vacated, so that they could do her hair. They twisted and tugged her hair in their hands, plaiting two braids on either side of her hair, then connecting them into a larger braid that went down her back, whilst leaving a large section of her hair flowing down her back in dark waves.

When her mother and sister were done, Caryssa rose to her feet.

"It truly is a beautiful gown, Mother, but I had so many suitable gowns fit for a feast with the king, so what is the real reason behind this gift?" Caryssa questioned, arching an eyebrow and daring her mother to not speak the truth. Her mother sighed, and her sister rolled her eyes at the challenge in Caryssa's eyes.

"Your father has been thinking of potential suitors for you hand for a few weeks now. I believe the king will help your father make a decision tonight." Catelyn told her daughter in the softest voice she could muster, knowing that her daughter would not take kindly to being kept in the dark for all this time.

Sansa watched her sister closely, expecting a strong reaction. If there was one thing that Caryssa Stark hated, it was secrets or being kept out of affairs that she deemed she was privy to. She was the eldest, she deserved to be kept in the know, it was her right. Also this was directly connected to her sister, so she was certain to be angry that

"Who are the suitors they are considering?" Caryssa questioned, her eyes staring at the skirt of her dress, her voice quiet, but still as strong as it would normally be.

"They have narrowed it down to a few, among them Ser Loras Tyrell, and Ser Jaime Lannister."

"Jaime Lannister has taken vows. He cannot take a wife." Caryssa denied, and she glared at her mother for not coming to tell her when it appeared that her father would not. She was not a child no longer, and even when she was considered a child, she had been privy to a lot of sensitive information, because she was trustworthy and wise for her short years.

"The king is considering releasing him from his vows. He believes it would relieve the tensions that have been between the Houses of Stark and Lannister for years." Catelyn explained, realising immediately that her words were not the ones her daughter had wanted to hear, when the girl let out a frustrated growl, sounding very much like a wolf of her House.

"You should be happy, sister, both Ser Loras and Ser Jaime are very handsome. If you marry Ser Jaime, we could both have beautiful blonde babes." Sansa said, and Caryssa's head snapped towards her sister, fixing the romantic-minded girl with a dark look. Sansa couldn't understand why her sister was not happy with the way things were turning out. If Ser Jaime was released from his vows, and they married, Caryssa would be Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock someday.

Caryssa had suddenly had enough of pampering and preening, and made her escape while she could. She rushed to her rooms, purposefully trying to avoid being seen by anyone. The feast was in less than an hour, and if someone saw her now, she would have to go then and not halfway through as she wished.

So she snuck through the hallways, until she managed to sneak into her rooms, where she picked up the book on healing that Maester Luwin had loaned her, trying her best not to focus on the betrayal her father had committed against her. Caryssa and her father had a strict no secrets policy. She had never kept a secret from him in her life, but he had been keeping one from her for weeks. She was hurt, but she knew she would have to push her feelings aside when she entered the Great Hall. The good thing about feasts and banquets and court was that it was like a masquerade. You need only put on the right mask and then no one could see through it to who you truly were or how you were feeling.

A couple hours later, Caryssa donned her own mask and made the trip to the Great Hall, steeling herself before she entered. She plastered on a wide, pretty smile, and told herself that the next day she would ask her father when he intended to tell her, but for tonight, she would attempt to play the happy daughter who knew nothing of her impending betrothal. She would dance, she would drink, she would sing if the king asked for it, and she would forget her father's small betrayal and enjoy the rest of the feast.

A/N:

Hey Guys,

Sorry for the late update, but the storms over here in the UK knocked my internet out for the day, which was super annoying! So anyway, here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. I know it's going a little slowly right now, but the first few chapters are basically just setting up the events of the rest of the story. Around Chapter Seven or Eight is when it's going to start getting a little more fast paced.

Oh, and thank you for all the birthday messages. I had a great day, it was awesome :)

Thank you to the following people for reviews:

Turquoise Waffles, Soaring Hawk1, Forever Fanfiction Lover22, Hand of the Alex, Naruhina1519, StarStruck11, shipwreck321, LittleNK, jafcbutterfly, neko, jezz, and Autobot NightFury (do you happen to like Transformers?)! Your support means the world to me guys, so I hope this is enough to keep you interested.

Spoilers for next chapter (nothing too big):

Jaime and Tyrion talk about Caryssa and the she-wolf and the lion dance.

Thanks for reading,

SophStratt :)