A/N:

I wrote this whole author's note and then hit the back button. My life.

Let me try to duplicate it to the best of my ability: (maybe I'll do a less coherent summarized version..)

THANKS EVERYONE YOU'RE AWESOME I LOVE ALL THE FEEDBACK YAY.

Special thanks to all the reviewers since my last post:

DTaylor201989 (thanks!), Guest (mhm! Robb's not so used to the women), StarkStruck11 (rather dramatic opener, huh? haha), Teepartygirl (oh there's definitely tension. Perhaps of several kinds...), Narsilia Stark (You get your wish!), Guest (it does make sense! and I sort of feel the same, that Jaime is only knows Cersei. I like to give a guy options. And Aw, Robb totally is a puppy. I stole his manhood a bit), 2L d'R (well, it's suppose to be a love triangle type thing, but there are a lot of people for team Jaime!), molly (he's an interesting character, and I'm glad you think I'm doing him justice), Guest (Keira Knightley, huh? I guess she has that...at a lack of a better word...spunk. And the crap will hit the fan soon. And hard.), HermioneandMarcus (hope this was soon enough :D), and Water-Fire22 (we'll see!).

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's actually sort of sad.

The trip back to the Red Keep was more eventful than the trip to Winterfell. She did not think Sansa and Joffrey's relationship was headed in the best of directions when Joffrey was attacked by Arya's direwolf. It only worsened when Arya's wolf could not be found, and Sansa's was killed in its stead. An act Ned performed himself.

"Cersei was being ridiculous."

It was night again. She was on Jaime's back, legs hooked between his own and holding his neck in a choke. He didn't respond so Cass continued, "Sansa's wolf did nothing. Killing an innocent thing is hardly the way to show Joffrey how to be a good king."

Still no response. Cass worried that perhaps she had said something wrong until she felt his bare hand tap her shoulder. Gods, I'm an idiot.

She jumped from his back after letting go of the hold. Jaime shook his head, blond hair sticking to his face with sweat. He rubbed his neck. "At least you're good at that one."

"Are you alright?"

He gave her a look, one eyebrow raised, and Cass brushed herself off and retied her boot. Jaime stretched his arms out and sat in the grass. "What were you saying? I was a little distracted by the air leaving my body."

Cass hesitated before saying it again. Jaime was always sensitive about his sister and his family in general, and although Cass didn't dislike Cersei, the Queen did not always make decisions she agreed with. Cass, however, did not feel like censoring herself today. "I said that your sister was being ridiculous."

"I disagree."

"I knew you would. You always disagree when it comes to Cersei." Cass huffed and sat by him, but Jaime recoiled a bit. She didn't let him move much though, and she shifted next to him again, tugging his undershirt lightly. "Can't you agree? Just a little bit that maybe, perhaps, Cersei was overreacting just a little by killing Lady?"

"Lady?" Jaime tasted the word in his mouth and grimaced. "The beast is named Lady?"

"Jaime," Cass began seriously. "You always do this."

"And you always waste my time with stupid conversation. I thought we were here to train, not talk about worthless wolves."

The comment didn't bother her. "You always defend her. Why?"

"Because she's right," he said simply.

Cass wanted to laugh. "Yes? Killing innocent things is right? What a twisted world we live in."

"Yes. It is twisted, Cass. Why do you think we're out here doing this? Come, let us start again. Go on the floor and try to escape."

She stood up instead. "I still don't understand. If you agree that it is twisted, then why agree to it all? You accept that we kill innocent things, but yet you say it is the right thing? That we should?"

Jaime cracked his knuckles. "I think you are forgetting who you are speaking to."

"A Lannister and a Kingslayer," Cass said evenly. "I do not forget who you are. You killed Aerys on his throne to save people, Jaime."

Jaime stared at her for a second but then laughed. It sounded hollow, forced. "I killed Aerys because my father was marching to the door. You have it wrong."

"Maybe." Cass fell down on the ground as Jaime went back on top of her, holding down her arms. "Or maybe you haven't..."

"Shut up."

Cass froze and looked to see his green eyes dart behind them. "What..."

Jaime rolled off to a standing position, leaving her in the dirt, and turned around. Cass thought maybe she had upset him, but it was only when she saw the shadow emerge from behind one of her brother's tents did she see. Lord Stark was wandering, his heavy two –handed sword in one hand with a cloth, in the dark. He had seen her, Cass knew, but Jaime still stood in front of her and casually said, "Isn't it a little late to be cleaning?"

"Aye." Ned walked a little forward. "Lady Cassana, do you need help?"

Jaime noticeably cringed. It wasn't that dark and Ned wasn't that far away, but he had been obviously hoping the older man would not notice Cassana on the ground. Playing dumb will just make this look worse than it actually is. "Hello, Lord Stark." She brushed off the dust. "This must look...questionable."

"It would, yes, if your brother hadn't already told me."

She exhaled at that, relaxing her shoulders, but Jaime still seemed curious. "Why would Robert tell you that I was training her?"

Though Cass had some guess as to why, and Eddard confirmed it. "I think he just wanted to maintain my opinion of you, Lady Cassana, if something like this were to happen. I'm sorry I interrupted you. I heard a noise while I was cleaning Ice, but I'll let you go back to training."

Ned turned back towards the tents, and once he was out of eyesight, Jaime grabbed Cass' hand and pulled her further away from the tents. "He's very curious."

"We should be grateful my brother actually had some foresight to tell him." Cass feigned a laugh. "What were the odds of that? I wonder what Ned could have possibly meant. Maintaining his opinion on me...why bother?"

Jaime took off his boots. "Take off your chain, Cass. Fuck, realism. It always gets in my way."

She did what she was told, reluctantly, and set Stannis' chain and Robb's ring in Jaime's boot. She knew what she and Jaime did looked (and sometimes felt) inappropriate, but Cass had the clear thought that even if Robert hadn't told Ned Stark, he would have believed that what they were doing was innocent.

Cass would not understand that man. He was truly of the old gods—birthed of a type of cold and stone that was not common among the men she more commonly knew. She had thought she knew what honor meant before she met Eddard Stark. Cass was beginning to think she had no idea what its true meaning held.

It only grew in her confusion when they arrived in King's Landing and Ned was put to his true tasks. Cass was not a member of the small council, nor did she want to be, but she could hear from Renly and Robert's talks that he was not like Varys or Littlefinger. And so she thought she was right that he would be a good Hand, but it scared her to think that it did not make Jaime wrong at all.

Her tasks returned to complete normalcy with the only change being Sansa and Arya beside her. She sat in with them on their Septa's lessons—some more than others for the Septa's still did not like her much. It was not that she was a bad student; she just did not like the restrictions they placed on her lessons. Even now, hearing the Septa talk about the Targaryens made her cringe inside. Yes, Aerys was crazy and yes they had sick...breeding habits, but people were people. Some of the kings were fine she was sure. And as much as she tried to deny it, Robert did steal their birthright. The Lannisters did jump in at the last second to help sack Kings Landing and that's that. There was no white light and black shadow. There was no crown of glory and gold. It was just grey and blood and iron—a seat of swords in a dark hall of skeletons.

Cass zoned out the ramblings until she heard Arya say a name. "They say I look like Lady Lyanna did."

It sounded familiar to her. Cass would say the same about her own mother, and she looked at Arya—at the woman, maybe, her brother was supposed to marry instead of Cersei. She wondered what a Stark woman would have done in this castle—if it would be less invaded by lions and have more wolves instead. She smiled as she looked at the two girls. There are wolves here now.

Catelyn had apparently been here too, in King's Landing, but she had not seen her. She was with Petyr Baelish—Robert had her check over the accounts every so often, for running the finances of the household was something good for all people to learn (except himself, of course)—when she found out. Cass was startled that they had spent so much coin on grapes alone this quarter when she noticed the smile on his face. "You're usually not this happy." She flipped through the ledger. Petyr was good at cooking numbers, and she did not point it out. They did not need to owe Casterly Rock anymore than they already did.

Littlefinger said nothing. "Do you think King Robert will need a new saddle in the next month? His last one took so long to make that it was too small by the time he got it."

"Perhaps we should start it now, Lord Baelish, and please, what brings about this grin? We are friends, yes?" Cass actually did not think that much of him at all. But she and Littlefinger were on decent terms. He was smart, that was for sure, but Cass would not trust him as far as she could throw him. Which was why she was even more curious. "You can tell me."

He paused, looking at her and then deciding that she meant no harm behind the words. Cass knew that Petyr Baelish thought she was about as politically minded as Renly and as dull as Stannis, and Cass did not wish to change that opinion at all. Littlefinger had no reason to view her as a threat, as anymore than a girl waiting to be shipped off for marriage. It was another reason why she didn't point out the obvious errors on the ledger in front of her. Lord Baelish smiled. "You remember that I was raised in the Riverlands?"

She didn't until he had said it, but Cass nodded. "Yes. Tully land then?"

"Lady Stark was here the other day visiting her husband. Apparently she had news concerning one of their sons."

Her face paled. "It's Bran. Brandon Stark." She corrected herself, finding that much of her speech concerning the Starks was much too casual.

"The boy was attacked."

She must have been ghostly white at his words. Why attack a boy in his bed? An unconscious boy in his bed? Robb's voice was suddenly in her head. Bran Stark never fell. And then he falls while the king is in Winterfell. He falls and survives and someone else tried to kill him already. Cass swallowed the thoughts. They would do her no good right now. Not here, next to Petyr Baelish who looked completely not upset over this matter at all. She called it out of him, curious. "And that is what yields a smile from you, Lord Baelish? You are too cruel a man."

"I was able to talk to Catelyn. We were childhood friends. The Tullys always remind me of simpler days when I was a boy."

"Before you spent all day counting our debts to the Lannisters." Cass did not push the issue any further with Littlefinger nor did she ask whether Bran was alright or not. Her connections to the wolves needed to be minimal, she knew that. She looked down to see if the ring was still hidden behind her bodice before she checked over Lord Baelish's work again and dismissed herself.

The Tower of the Hand was cold and dark and so much like Winterfell that Cass thought that maybe Ned would fit there nicely. But what she saw on the man's face was grief and stress, burdening his eyes and making him look ages older instead of months. She had the thought to excuse herself and leave him be with the paperwork on his desk, but his grey eyes seemed to lighten a bit, and Cass smiled. She had not talked to Ned Stark in too long, she realized. "Lord Stark, it is good to see you. I'm afraid our paths have not crossed too much." It seemed her paths had crossed no ones. Arya and Sansa's lessons were boring, and Jaime hadn't been training her nearly as often as he used to. She was wasting away here, some days. Perhaps she would finally pick up the patience to crochet. "How is your son? I still worry for him."

Ned exhaled and gestured for her to sit down across from him. Cass followed his suggestion before he began. "You heard my wife was here?"

"Yes. Though if it is a secret, I will not tell anyone, Lord Stark. You have my word."

"It seems I hold fewer and fewer people's words these days."

Cass blinked, "My Lord? Something else troubles you." She wasn't sure, but Cass thought it was beyond anything with Bran.

Ned did not reveal as much. "Please, call me Ned. It seems strange for a Baratheon to do anything but." He paused. "My son is still alive, and for that I am happy. Catelyn had some unpleasant news that only puzzles me further, but I do not wish to burden you with such."

"Burdens are subjective. I do not carry anything I do not deem necessary." She crossed her legs on the chair. "Tell me."

He was hesitant, that much was obvious. Ned slid a hand through his hair and looked down. He reminded her of Jon Snow at that point, and Cass wondered if Ned knew how that son was. She did not ask. "What do you remember about Jon Arryn in his last days as Hand?"

It was an odd question for she had not thought of Jon Arryn much in the last months, and Cass replied honestly. "I did not see him much, Lord...Ned. I think...even less those few weeks before. I do not really remember. He always seemed so occupied with his tasks."

Ned nodded but said nothing.

Cass knew he wanted more, of what, she wasn't sure. She tried thinking back to Jon Arryn, her last conversations with him and found herself laughing. "It's strange."

"What is?"

"No, he just...he asked me a lot about my family...if I remembered anything from Storm's End. Paintings, records, that sort of thing."

Ned swallowed, "Do you know why?"

She didn't really. It took her off guard. At one instant, he was complimenting her on her hair color with a certain dress and that suddenly turned into a conversation about her parents. "I do not. I do not remember much of my family outside my brothers. Even Stannis seems distant now." She frowned at that. "I remember telling him that all Baratheons have a temper. It goes with our words. But the temper has different triggers."

Ned's interest seemed to grow. "What did he say to that, Lady Cassana?"
"Nothing. He did not seem interested. I think...he cared more about my hair color and eyes than anything else. He asked me what I thought about them. I said they were dark and were my mothers."

"He could see that though, couldn't he?"

"Yes." She laughed more at the memory. Perhaps he really was aging faster than she seemed to have noticed before. "Bizarre. But it makes me happy to hear that your son is...alive, my lord."

She began to stand and curtsy, but then Cass felt a lump in her chest, the coldness of Robb's ring seeming to burn on her skin as she saw his father with bags and wrinkles under his eyes. Jaime's advice was there, circling. Ned Stark was no lost puppy. His emblem was the direwolf. He was strong, and if something was making him feel like this, Cass wanted to help. "I talked to Lord Baelish."

"Tell me we have enough coin, Lady Cassana."

"We owe the same six million dragons, but it is not our finances I wish to speak of." She sat back down. "It was he who told me of Lady Catelyn. He said your son was attacked, Ned. But it confuses me why someone would attack a boy in that state, a boy who holds no land or title yet."

Ned leaned back in the chair. A burden had fallen from his shoulders, and he seemed happy to be talking about this with someone, even if it were just her. "I admit the same thing has been puzzling me."
"It isn't puzzling, really." Cass bit her lip. "Excuse my frankness, but someone does not want Bran to wake from his sleep. And then I remember Bran climbing the tower walls, and what your oldest son had told me. He said that Bran has climbed those walls thousands of times before. Why had he fallen when we were there? It is...coincidental."

"The same things have crossed my mind, Cassana. But why? Why would someone want to do this to my son?"

"He knows something." But what? She found herself looking at her hair. It was so dark, like ink. That was how Jon Arryn had described it. It was pure ink. And even mixed with water, it would remain just as dark. He said that no yellow light should be able to shine through such a color. "I'm sorry. I'm just bringing up things I cannot answer."

"It is relieving to know I have someone to talk to, Lady Cassana. Your brother is becoming increasingly distant."

"And I'm sorry for that too. I think, Ned, it may pay for you to take leave in Winterfell soon. See your wife and sons." She knew he would not take her suggestion, but Cass made it all the same.