A/N:

I am a terrible author that forgot to be so so excited and grateful from last posting about reaching over 100 reviews! AH! I'm sure as all you fellow authors know, reviews are so much fun to get, and it's one of the reasons why I love fanfic so much. So just another THANKS to all my readers and those reviewers that make me smile. Since last post:

MutiaRawr(Say what? I joke.), Guest (Ah, so many specifics! I'm glad you liked all those aspects. And to answer your question, I half made him up. Jammos is from ASOIAF, technically, though I don't think GRRM has given him a big role. So I decided to kill him. Eh.), slasher-film (Maybe they'll get better! or worse. Silly GoT), Allimba (Glad you liked it!), meri (I like the action/ need a way to inject more in, so I'm glad you liked it), SeerStormborn (That girl can't make up her mind!), Honor is a horse (Complicated is a good word to describe them. And I'm enjoying the complicated too. And thanks! You should nominate the ones you think are the best.. If it so happens to be mine, I won't complain...), Guest (Hehe tension is the best part!), and Guest (That question will actually be answered in this chapter! :D)

This one has its highs and lows.

Disclaimer: I do not own GoT or ASOIAF. So many acronyms!

They didn't talk much after that. Jaime did not say anything to her, and Cass…she didn't know what to say. She thought her mind would be rampant, overrun with thoughts and confusion—tearing itself apart over what was happening, over Jaime's motives, over her alliances.

You cannot play this game forever.

She focused her eyes ahead. They had been riding for so long, and she no longer knew how far away White Harbor was. It was getting colder, if that was a good sign, and she trusted that Jaime knew where he was going.

The Kingslayer rode ahead of her now, head never turning back. He only spoke to her when he decided to leave and catch rabbits or squirrels or anything else on the plain that could be used as food. She would thank him, start a fire, skin the creature, and they would eat—silent again. I do not know how much longer I can do this.

Her loyalties needed to be simpler than this, Cass decided. Once she was reunited with Stannis, they would lie with her house alone—no Starks or Lannisters or anything else that could possibly get in her way. I will follow Stannis. I will. Any thought beyond that was too muddied.

If she supported Jaime, she supported Joffrey, which was something she could never do. As much as she wanted to believe Jaime—and though she did believe he wanted to help her—she wasn't sure how far his loyalties strayed from his own house, from his sister. After White Harbor he will ride back to her. The thought made her nauseous. He will go back to King's Landing in a heartbeat or less.

The Starks were harder to ignore. They did nothing to spur any hatred from her and have had only good intentions for their family. It is that which will get them killed. Stannis will not care about good intentions. She had warned Robb of this, just as Jaime had warned her once about Ned Stark. But my brother will be reasonable.

He would be. He had to be. He had to remember Renly and why he could not fight him. He would be reminded when he saw her. He would.

Stop it.

She had to turn it off, these thoughts of houses and banners and where she lied. If I were a wolf, I'd be a lone one. Cass suddenly thought of Sansa's wolf—Lady. She wondered how the girl felt when her father killed her.

That girl had given up her loyalties too, with more grace and honor than Cass ever could. She did not flip flop. She bit back the harsher words and forswore her father. But the hatred in her eyes was there, behind the meek curtseying girl. Cass saw that she was Stark through and through. There was no doubt in her mind of that, even as Sansa was promised to her nephew.

Darkness was already coming. Jaime had built a fire, and they both huddled close to it after tying up their horses. They sat on opposite ends from each other, Cass' eyes looking up at him every so often. This is stupid. "Jaime, about before…"

"You were good back there." Jaime cracked his knuckles. "I didn't tell you before, but if you hadn't stopped Walder Frey, he'd be yelling about us throughout the whole Twins."

"Yes." She remembered the cut across Walder's throat, the red soaking her arms, sticking to thin hairs and filling her nose with smells of salt and metal. Cass saw nothing good about it except that she was not dead. "I suppose I was lucky you trained me."

"I haven't in awhile," Jaime admitted. "I think you're due."

"What?"

"Get up."

She did what he said, albeit slowly. "Boots on?"

"Off. I don't need you hitting me with pounds of gold dragons, no doubt." He took the Stark uniform off, tugging the multiple layers of padding over his shoulders. There was nothing underneath when he was done. The rags had been tossed out, and Jaime had been nice enough, Cass supposed, to leave the tongue-less guard in his underclothes.

Cass swallowed.

He was still thinner than he used to be. She had…never really seen him shirtless before, but she could see his ribs on his sides, see his collarbone and shoulder blades and abdominal muscles more defined than they should have been. There was dried blood on his chest, sticking to the fine gold hair. And there were scars—old and new—everywhere, littering his body. I wonder if he knows how he got them all.

She wondered when her image of him started to become this. Ser Jaime Lannister was notorious, but she didn't really remember thinking that way about him herself. He was her friend for a long time. A mentor and teacher, but now? Cass bit her lip. And what am I to him now? She hadn't looked like a little girl for a long while, despite her feeling otherwise at times.

"Cassana!"

She moved towards him and away from the fire, though Jaime's face was still shadowed with orange and yellow flame. His hair almost looked blond again, his eyes like wildfire—green and dangerous and too, too bright. Cass knelt down in the dirt, her plain dress falling with her. "Submissions?"

"Yes."

"If you make a noise it means you yield." Cass stretched her arms and looked him in the eyes. "I've missed this, Jaime."

He smiled, a half, lazy smile, and knelt down in front of her, grabbing her neck with one hand.

Quick as a cat, he pulled her down, legs trying to go over her, to straddle her stomach and leave her back on the floor. But Cassana anticipated Jaime's motion and rolled from under him, hiding her neck and her legs and arms so that Jaime couldn't grab her. She tugged at his arm, using his shoulder as leverage as she mounted his back. Her feet locked together, wrapping around his waist. Jaime stayed on his hands and knees, laughing. He turned his head to try and face her, "Does that count as a noise?"

"Of course it doesn't."

"Good." He pushed back on her, until he was smashing her back on the ground, causing Cass to let go of her grip on his torso. Jaime turned around to face her and held her arms to her side, slipping his legs across her, pushing, smoothing her stomach with his knee. Cass' breath was heavy, and her heart was aching, pulling. She didn't know why, but she didn't feel like fighting anymore when Jaime was on top of her, smirking, eyes shining with the rush of physical exertion. "A lion over a stag." Jaime stretched her arms over her head. "Seems appropriate."

"You win," Cass whispered, suddenly afraid. She remembered his words from before and they frightened her. Her voice felt weak; her whole body felt weak under him.

"Don't make it so easy, Cassana."

She tried to buck him off with her hips, but Jaime stayed planted, only smiling more.

He grinned and pushed against her, "Yes, keep trying. Harder though."

She stopped. Her face felt hot, and instead, she tried to pull her arms out. "I yield."

"You shouldn't though." Jaime's hands fell to her wrists. "You know why we practiced this, don't you?"

She nodded. "Robert wanted you to teach me to protect myself."

"Robert wanted to make sure you wouldn't lose your maidenhood." His arms went lower on her forearms, then her biceps, sliding across her prickling skin. "Prematurely."

Sweat started to drip down her forehead. Jaime's eyes were no longer focused on her face, and she felt her own stray to his lower chest, the leather pants falling on his hips with his sword and belt thrown away. His hands were calloused on her arms. They were dirty and bloody too. "I suppose you did a good job then." Her voice sounded deeper than she intended.

Jaime's green eyes became enlarged at her statement, and his hands only fell lower, lower until they were flanking her breasts. The wide palms squeezed her sides, and Cass kept her arms up, just staring at his eyes as she struggled to breathe.

"Should we test this fully then?" He moved his hands right on the top of her rib cage, sliding the cloth of her bodice close to her body. Jaime whispered, "Should we see if my training was that effective?"

The rocks from the ground tinged her spine when Jaime pushed down on her torso, and Cass flinched up, meeting him closer. She didn't know what to say. The thoughts in her head slowed incredibly, until they almost seemed not to occur at all. The only thing she could think of was those green eyes and his hands moving under her breasts, then on top, then…

She pushed him away. Her palms fell flat on his cold chest, and she straightened her dress down over her calves. "I can't do this."

"You can't?" Jaime remained on the ground. "Or you don't want to?"

I want to. She licked her lips. They felt chapped just thinking of it. Cass would be lying if she said she didn't think Jaime was attractive, if she didn't think about how he'd look over her with more than just his shirts off. No…I can't. "You don't want to either, Jaime."

He snorted and stood up. His right hand methodically went through his hair, though the locks were still short. "What makes you say that?"

Cersei makes me say that. I am not her. Nor do I wish to be her substitute. "You'll be betraying someone in the process."

"And what's to say I still care about that?" Jaime walked closer to her. "What's to say that I give two shits about her anymore?"

"You do." She could see it in his face. "You do, Jaime. And I do too." Cass rubbed her arm. "I give two shits about someone."

He swallowed, seeming almost anxious, and then said in a low, solemn voice, "I don't want to think about that right now." Jaime grabbed her arm, lightly pulling her closer until their noses touched, until she could feel his hot breath in her face, his own sweat mixing with hers. Her mouth parted a little bit when he kissed her, his lips even more dry than her own. He broke away from her and licked them, right before kissing her on the cheek, and then down on the side of her neck.

Her whole face felt hot. "Jaime…"

"You're sweet." Jaime moved up again to her mouth, stopping her from any further speech. He was so warm—Cass thought—warm and rough. His hands moved to her waist, tugging her closer, making her never want to break this, to end this, but the tongue on her lip made her recoil away.

She shook her head, "Stop it."This would never work. This…I don't even know what this is. I don't know what you're doing. Her voice cracked at the next word, and she felt salt water on her lips. "Jaime, stop!"

"Cassana, I'm…"

"You're not sorry." Cass said for him. She touched her own lips, eyes downcast. I'm not either. I… "Jaime, what are you doing?"

His face became rigid. Jaime inhaled deeply and took a step away from her. "White Harbor is close." He turned back to the horses. "And you're right. I'm not sorry, and I won't try to apologize again. But I'd appreciate if you didn't tell your brother about that. I'd like to keep my head."

She didn't know how much passage to Dragonstone would cost in times of war, nor was she certain how much money Robert had sewn into her other shoe. But she wanted to get away. She wanted to sprint or gallop and then swim to Dragonstone if she had to.

The air between her and the Kingslayer did not get any better. He would throw a joke or two her way, and she would laugh, politely, forcefully, when all she could think of in her head was him kissing her. Stop it. Who cares what Jaime did? It does not matter.

It felt like it didn't. Hours after it happened, her lips stopped tasting strange. The throbbing had stopped and her legs finally felt strong again. But she couldn't look at him anymore…not the same way. Cass was angry with him but afraid. She was excited by what happened but also regretful.

That night they had stopped near the river, their backs resting on the grounds yards away from each other. Her thin cloak was wrapped over her shoulders and body, but they were so north now. She was so cold. Cass looked back to Jaime, but the Kingslayer didn't move. He stayed frozen—asleep or not, she did not know.

But the cold was swallowing her whole. The cold and the sound of the water running, rushing, constantly rushing…

Cass stood up and put on her cloak. She could not sleep anymore, did not even dare to try. She walked down the riverbed. It was small…probably not a river, though Cass didn't know its proper name. A stream maybe? Or one of those bubbling brooks. She had no idea, and frankly, it did not seem that important to her. White Harbor is close. Her eyes looked up. She could see the lights from the city near. She had never been to this city. It was the smallest of the five capitals, but still it should have been large. It was still a way out.

But she did not think it was this small. The buildings were no taller than houses, most seeming smaller than that to her eyes. My perception is off. That is all. But White Harbor looked similar to something else she knew.

Her eyes fell down, afraid, and she caught something else in the dark. They were blue and across the river or brook. Cass knelt down. They're eyes. They shone in the dark, and she stayed in the mud. Who are you?

Grey Wind had yellow eyes. They were deep and yellow like the sun in a clouded sky, and this wolf seemed to have yellow eyes too, but then strangely, they appeared blue again to her. She shrunk away. I'm sorry. She looked at the wolf across from her. He was huge, and suddenly her mind was wandering. You're half Tully, aren't you? You have to understand then. I'm a Baratheon, Robb. I'm no Stark. I'm not.

It was only when she broke eye contact that the wolf ran away. Cass felt nauseous again. Her hands fumbled through her hair. "I'm going mad." She shook her head and looked back to White Harbor before returning back to their small camp. "Jaime?"

He didn't stir, and Cass knelt down in front of Jaime Lannister. "Jaime?" She touched his shoulder, and the man stirred, hand retreating towards the sword he still wore on his belt.

Jaime's face twisted. "Gods, we can wait until dawn, Cass."

"…I see something. Lights."

"It's White Harbor."

"No, it isn't."

He seemed annoyed with her, but his face eased when he got a better look at her face. Jaime sat up and turned around to where Cass was facing. His eyes narrowed and then he grabbed her hand. "It's a war camp."

Yes. Cass swallowed. "You need to get out of here."

Jaime's grip on her tightened. "No."

"Jaime, you…"

"What if it's the wolves out for your blood, Cassana?"

They don't want my blood. They want me safe. She knew that. She didn't know how she could be so confident with the Starks, but she was. And she was also confident of another thing. "It's my brother."

Jaime stood up. "Now I know you're mad."

"Take both horses around to White Harbor and sell one. Sail to Lannisport or something. Sail to Kings Landing." Just get out of here, Jaime. Get out. Cass did not want to see this man in chains again. She would not allow him to be hurt because of her.

"Stop being ridiculous, Cass. I won't leave you."

She swallowed. "This is Stannis, Jaime. He will hold you hostage or cut off your head, even if he doesn't know." Cass licked her lips, her dark eyes falling. "Gods know why, but if you love me at all, you'll leave and be safe."

He dropped her hand. "I thought I could only love one woman in my life, Cass. I thought we were of the same blood, the same being."

She fidgeted at his voice, at his reasoning and what she was going to say next. "Then go back to her."

Jaime hesitated, and then said angrily. "I'm so fucking tired of all of this. I'm fucking tired of hiding my feelings."

Then scream it from the rooftops, scream it from the steps of Baelor. That was one way to end a war. "Then don't." Cass said. "Admit them to the world or stop complaining, Jaime. Those are the only two options."

"You make it sound so simple."

"You're the one that's making it complicated."

"And what about you?" Jaime didn't move closer. He didn't reach for her hand or even look at her directly. "I love you, Cass." Jaime paused, letting the words hang in the air, letting those words creep over to Cassana in the cold air and stick, brand themselves on her mind. She froze and he sniffed. "Now what am I supposed to do about that?"

Her face and hands felt numb at his admission. Cass pulled at her hair, nervous. "Nothing. You shouldn't do anything except go home. Fulfill your promise to me and stop this war."

"You expect me to just go now back to the Red Keep?" Jaime was frustrated. His hands were clenched and he was staring at her. "You want me to go back there after what they have done to you?"

Yes. Leave me. Get out of my life so that this is easier. It would have been so much easier. He and Robb Stark were making everything messy. She pushed away what he just said to her. That he…it didn't matter. Whatever she felt about Jaime didn't matter now. It never really mattered.

Ours is the fury. Not theirs. Cass looked to the war camp ahead. "You think Cersei sent me away because you love me."

"I know she did." Jaime shook his head. "Cass…"

"You don't love me though." She insisted. "You can't love both of us."

Jaime huffed, "Loving one person means you can't love another?" He laughed. "Stop pretending you don't know what it's like to be torn, Cassana."

"At least I've decided. I picked Stannis."

"That wasn't what I meant."

She faltered at that. Her lips throbbed again, her heart hurt, and she really felt like retching. "I don't want you to love me, Jaime," Cass spat. "You're a Lannister. You're a man of the Kingsguard. You…you have nothing to offer me. No title. No land. Not even marriage." She couldn't look at him directly. "I don't know what you expect me to do."

"I…I don't…"

"I want my ring," Cass interrupted and held out her hand. She didn't want to hear anymore. She didn't want her mind to be even more tangled than it already was. She let the tears dry on her face. "I want my mother's ring back."

Jaime's hand went to his belt. "So I can't love you, that's it then. I don't deserve to?"

No, Jaime. You… "We're not even supposed to be friends anymore. Our houses are at war." Ours is the fury. "You're not supposed to love me either." She waited for the ring to be dropped into her hand, Stannis' chain still on it. She remembered what it meant now—the chain. She was three and back in Storm's End.

"Even if a link is broken, Cassana, it can always be reforged. It may be smaller, less beautiful than before, but it's there. It'll always be."
Cass wanted to go back there. She wanted all of this to go away. It was too cold here. She was surrounded by lions and wolves everywhere she looked.

Jaime didn't say another word, and only gestured his right hand forward, beckoning her to leave.

And she did. She never looked back, only stopping an hour later to heave.

A/N:

It's not over til it's over, so no one fret too much yet!
Thanks for reading and drop a quick review if you'd be so kind :)