A/N: Thank you for your continued support for this fic!
And thank you to Cardinala for pointing out the proper forms of address, I'll rectify it for future chapters!

Chapter 6: Cold Halls

Cassana walked calmly down the long halls of Winterfell with her head held high as she made her way to the Great Hall with her mother and siblings. Cersei too walked with a quiet dignity, the small crown of gold glittering in the torchlight. Even Joffrey had his air of royal decorum in place, complete with his perpetual smirk. The youngest royals however couldn't match up to the dignity of their elders.

Myrcella was practically walking on her toes with the way she continued to bounce up and down as she walked down the hall beside Cassana. She more she did this, the more her hair slowly became wilder and wilder. Cassana was grateful that Myrcella kept it done simply, as a young girl should, for it would have been a mess by now if it had been dressed as Cassana's.

Tommen managed to contain himself from the outward show his elder sister put on, but he was quivering with excitement at the prospect of the feast. Tommen loved feasts. He loved the loud voices, the songs, the dances, the chance to try and sneak wine from his mother's cup. He had yet to encounter many kittens in the castle though, which had upset him a little.

Cassana suspected that any cats would likely be in hiding from the Starks recently acquired direwolves. She had heard rumour of them from her handmaidens that afternoon, but hadn't seen any of the beasts yet. She was sure that the tales concerning size were greatly exaggerated. These 'direwolves' would as like as not be just ordinary wolf hounds.

She waited until Joffrey was striding a safe distance ahead of the rest of them, before she approached her mother to whisper softly.

"What does Joffrey look so happy about?"

She wanted to say smug, but knew that it would inspire a bad reaction from her mother to hear that word applied to her golden boy. But it would seem that whatever made Joffrey happy did not please their mother to the same degree, for a frown momentarily creased her smooth brow.

"Your father has offered marriage between him and Sansa Stark, as a sweetener to try and make Lord Stark become his Hand."

If Cassana had been eating or drinking, she would have choked. As it was, she only coughed a little, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"I thought that was the whole point of my marriage," she said.

"Yes, well it would seem that your father is willing to bind us even more to the Starks."

Cassana fell silent, she surprised herself by being rather put out at the news. Not only because it was something that gave her brother potential enjoyment, but because she felt undermined somehow. She had thought that her marrying Robb was going to be the thing that tied the Starks to the royal family, but now it seemed that she wasn't even needed to do that. She had become an extra when she wanted to be the only one. She hadn't looked forward to it, but now that it was no longer a special responsibility of uniting the families, she felt incredibly put out.

"Ahh, here is my family at last!"

Cassana's darkening mood blackened at her father's bellowed greeting. He was almost never earlier than them to any event, but whenever he was he crowed about it as if he were the one perpetually waiting for them. Because, of course, a King was never late to anything.

He stood with the waiting Stark family, who were all assembled, but more simply attired than she would have expected. Sansa and Lady Stark had at least donned new gowns, but as far as Cassana's eye could tell, the others hadn't bothered to change at all. If she were prone to it, she might have felt overdressed. But seeing as she wasn't, she merely looked down on those who didn't match up to her.

"You know what it's like waiting for women," Joffrey replied in a jovial tone, but Cassana felt the harsh bite of his words.

"Waiting for us? Why, Joff, would that have been during the time you were lost trying to find us?" she inquired sweetly.

That earned her a vicious glare from her little brother, but laughs from almost everyone else save the adults, though even her father chuckled at his son's expense.

"Come, I've a mind to get this feast started!" King Robert exclaimed, before offering his arm to Lady Stark. "Cat, may I have the pleasure?"

"Of course, Your Grace," she replied.

That was the cue for the remainder of the families to partner up behind the King and Lady Stark. Her mother took Lord Stark's arm carefully, keeping a polite distance between them. Joffrey, as Crown Prince, fell in behind his mother with Sansa Stark on his arm. And then followed Robb, who took up a spot behind Joffrey and held his arm out to Cassana.

"Princess," he bowed his head formally, "Might I have the honour?"

Cassana didn't reply, she didn't want to simply imitate the similar exchanges which had just passed between the other couples. She looped her arm through his proffered one, and rested her hand gently upon it, feeling the muscle tense up beneath the fabric of his shirt as he straightened his posture to emulate his father.

"You look beautiful," he said softly to her while they waited for the remainder of the younger siblings to partner up. Only young Rickon, she'd found out his name earlier, was left alone.

Cassana smiled at the compliment, as she had been trained to do, and looked slightly up at him.

"Thank you. You look quite handsome." The last part slipped out before she thought properly about it. It was the sort of reply she gave to most people who complimented her, for it was graceful of her to show proper gratitude. But giving it to Robb, her intended, somehow made her feel awkward about it. Which it shouldn't do, should it? She was confused.

"I'm glad my future wife thinks so," he replied, his smile splitting into a grin.

She had no time to summon a reply, because the doors had been opened and they began their procession into the Great Hall. Cheers of welcome rose up for the King and Lord Stark. Cassana kept a polite smile on her face, but her eyes forwards. Robb's comment had unsettled any awkwardness that had momentarily come over her in a girlish fit of stupidity. It was the first time that either of them had openly stated their connection to the other.

It made her feel curiously… odd. She was so used to being the Princess, being her parents' daughter, being her siblings' sister, and now she was someone's future wife as well. It felt strange to consider herself in that way, she wondered if she was up to the responsibility for a moment, before remembering that it didn't matter.

She needed to dismiss these silly feelings of curiosity and oddness. The facts were the facts. She would be married to Robb, she would be his wife, he would be her husband. That was it, that was final. Final.

Cassana looked around the hall of the castle that was to be her home. From now on, this would be it. No more magnificent throne room, no more sunlit gardens, no more shimmering ocean views. Cold grey stone against a cold grey sky in a cold grey land.

Her annoyances from the arrangement, the travel, and the whole afternoon were getting to her again. She needed wine.

/*0*/

The enjoyment of wine was something she liked to feel she had inherited from her mother. For while her father enjoyed the beverage, he drank it in such amounts as to be unseemly. Her mother on the other hand, knew how to enjoy her wine with elegance, something that Cassana often tried to mimic.

Her parents were supposed to be seated in the place of honour at the head of the table, but only her mother sat there now, Lady Stark seated to her left. Cassana's father had long since descended, abandoning what little royal dignity he had, and was currently making a spectacle of himself. He was drunk, and had his arms around a buxom serving woman down in the lower reaches of the Hall. Sadly, this was a sight that Cassana was used to.

As a member of the royal family, Cassana too enjoyed a place at the high table. This sadly meant a great deal of boredom, for she was seated at the end of her father's side, and her sole neighbour was Joffrey. Still, should would not have traded her position for a lower table. Granted, perhaps she would have more conversation seated with her ladies, but she wouldn't be afforded the same feeling of grandeur that the high table brought with it. From this vantage point she could safely remain aloof from the clamouring events down below.

"Gods this is a boring feast," Joffrey complained from her left, "They don't have any entertainment, the wine is poor, and is it always this smoky in this stupid place?"

"If you want entertainment, just watch father," she muttered.

She hadn't intended for Joffrey to hear, but his mocking laughter indicated that he had. She hated it when he laughed at her comments in that way, it generally meant that he agreed with them, and she hated having things in common with him. Truth be told, she had more in common than she'd like already, but she didn't want to extend that further than she had to.

"What do you think of her?"

"Hmm?" Cassana saved herself a few moments by taking another drink from her cup, it would need refilling soon.

"Lady Sansa, my betrothed," he clarified, "I want to know my dear sister's opinion. You've been betrothed to a Stark for longer than I, perhaps you can give me some pointers."

"Shut up," she shot back.

He smirked, he knew she hated it when he talked about her engagement, he'd been playing on that fact for years. Well ha, he would soon have nothing left to taunt her with.

She studied Sansa Stark closely. The bright red of her hair was certainly noticeable amidst the general darker colours of the people who shared her table, and she sat with the uttermost poise, even when she bent to have a whispered conversation with the girl on her right. Cassana could tell that she was trying very hard to put out the very best of airs, and grudgingly admitted that she was successful. Cassana could tell that Lady Stark was a woman of dignity, hopefully Sansa had picked up the finer points of it, despite being raised so far from any true civilisation.

Cassana felt her nose wrinkle up as she remembered the outburst from moments ago. The younger Stark girl had been throwing food, which really made her wonder just how these people were raised, they were one of the oldest Houses in Westeros! Still, Sansa had been rather shrill with her reactions, Cassana wondered mildly if perhaps she should have been sent off to bed along with her younger sister. Still she had recovered well it seemed.

"She's pretty," she replied to Joffrey's earlier conversation attempt. "She acts like a proper Lady should, how old is she again?"

"Thirteen," he replied.

"Young," she noted. "When does father intend for you to wed?"

"He hasn't said."

Joffrey let his gaze linger on Sansa, and Cassana watched as the younger girl dared a glance up towards him, only to promptly lower her gaze and blush when she saw him looking at her.

"She likes you," Cassana groaned.

Joffrey chuckled happily to himself. "I know, not everyone takes as ill towards me as you do, sister."

"Not everyone knows you as I do," she murmured. This time she was soft enough that he didn't hear.

"A toast!"

Cassana looked towards the back of the room, as her father's enormous bellow resounded through the Great Hall, earning silence from all gathered. She winced, seeing that he had managed to grab Robb Stark by the shoulder as he returned from escorting his little sister to her rooms. The two of them now walked towards the high table, and Cassana gathered herself together, restoring her posture and cool gaze to a suitable standard.

A servant refilled all of the cups along the high table, and passed full new ones to Robb and the King when they reached it.

"Cassana! Come, stand with me!" he called.

Joffrey smirked happily at her expense, being called up to a toast by their drunken father almost never ended well. He settled comfortable back into his chair, wine cup held loosely in one hand, and waited to see what would unfold.

Cassana rose smoothly from her chair, gathered up her wine, and moved in front of the table to stand beside her father. This close to him, the pungent smell of wine was almost overpowering. Cassana was embarrassed. On his other side stood her betrothed, granted a betrothed she wasn't all together happy with, but her intended nonetheless. And he could clearly smell that her father resembled a poor ale house right now.

"Soon, at last, the Houses of Stark and Baratheon shall be joined!" he shouted. "Young Robb Stark here is the lucky man who gets to marry the Princess Cassana, my daughter!"

A cheer rose up from the crowd, along with their wine cups, but her father waved them down.

"This day has long been coming, and I am glad to see it finally here." He turned to face Lord Stark at the table." Ned, you and I both wanted this sooner, when I was engaged to your sister. It is happening now, at last! But it should have happened then!"

A cold look descended on the Queen's face, and Cassana felt a mirror or it on her own. Only she also felt her cheeks flush red with anger and embarrassment on her mother's behalf. Why did her father always have to do this? Why couldn't he let go of that stupid dead woman? She was the reason that Cassana so disliked her association with the Stark family. If not for that woman, perhaps her father would have been a better man.

"Lyanna… now there was a fine woman," Robert went on, "She-"

"Father," Cassana interrupted, "I believe you said this was a toast about the union. Forget the past."

Her father looked at her and gave an empty laugh, "So like your mother! It is always about you, isn't it, darling girl? The two of you have never forgiven me for loving Lyanna! You both-"

"Father," she snapped in a whisper, hoping in vain it would make him lower his voice, "You are making a scene!"

"Making a scene?" he repeated at loud volume, "I am the King! Everything I do is making a scene that should be worthy of a tapestry!"

"Stop it," she hissed.

"Robert," Cersei admonished at the same time, "Enough."

He fixed them both with a bloodshot stare, something hard flitting across his expression. Cassana hated him like this, her father had never been violent to his family, but at moments like this she almost feared that he would.

"Very well, women in my life, have it your way," he grumbled, before turning back to the crowds, "Raise your cups! This boy is marrying my daughter, and he'll need all the luck the Gods can give him!"

People laughed at the perceived joke, and Cassana heard Joffrey's laugh above them all. She was outraged. How dare her father, her own father, mock her in public like this! She was to live here, among these people, and he had just all but insulted her in front of them all. She hated him, in that moment right there, she hated her father with all of her heart.

With great deliberation, she placed her wine cup on the table behind her, refusing to drink to his insulting toast. She turned and dropped a curtsey to the people seated at the high table.

"If you will all excuse me, I am tired from the day's journey, I bid you all goodnight. Thank you, Lord Stark and Lady Stark for the feast."

She refused to give either her father or Robb eye contact as she turned once more and made her way to the door at the end of the room. She refused her father because of the anger she felt towards him, but she refused to look at Robb because she didn't want to see whatever look on his face remained from what her father had said.

She strode through the doors when they were opened for her, and didn't look back as she made her way down the halls back to her room. The cold bit into her exposed skin, but it didn't sting nearly as much as the things her father had said. Why couldn't he be better? Why did he have to do these things?

Cassana looked around the halls of the castle that once Lyanna Stark had occupied.

"Why can't you leave him be?" she asked of the cold stone, "Why can't you let him go?"

No answer came, and she made her way down the rest of the hall in silence.