A/N:

Hi All! Um, I don't really have anything to say except maybe that I recently saw how many Emmys GoT was nominated for and was really happy. The end.

Of course this happiness was seconded by my wonderful readers and reviewers! As always, a special thanks to those who reviewed since last post:

Natsirt2610 (yup. I gotta keep some things the same), Allimba (Aw, thanks!), StarkStruck11 (Great! It's good to know you're still excited by the chapters and not finding them mundane, haha. And yes, I'm discovering that now. Thanks!), Guest (She's a bit creepy.I'm glad you like their dynamic. It came surprisingly easy.), bbymojo (Nothing is over until the end! That I can promise.), and Guest (I find the Baratheon relationship super interesting! I couldn't help it. And thanks :D)

Y'all are great.

This one is longer and throws yet another wrench in the wheel...sort of. I also introduce some new (though old) folks.

Disclaimer: I do not own GoT or ASOIAF.

Ned Stark and her brother would not leave that ship.

They had been talking for what seemed hours about something that was so obvious to Cass. She paced outside the captain's cabin where they talked, ignoring the pleas from Ser Davos that she go and rest and change out of her muddied clothes. "Leave me, Davos." Cass crossed her arms. "If my brother refuses to help that man, I will…I will…" Cass didn't even know. She kept walking until the door swung open and Ned Stark came out. "Ned!"

"Cass?" He let the door shut behind him. "I'm sorry. I have to go. My boys…"

"Stannis is helping you, isn't he? What happened? What happened to Winterfell?"

He didn't exactly know what to say. "Talk to your brother. He said he'd come, aye, but I need to leave now."

Bran and Rickon were still there. Cass moved out of the Lord of Winterfell's way and approached her brother inside. Stannis was writing some letter, folding it and giving it to a servant. "Don't worry, sister."

"I wasn't." Though she was. She was worried Stannis would be stubborn, would not help Ned unless that red woman agreed to it. But Melisandre was in the room too, and she did not seem to dissuade Stannis at all. Cass realized why. "What a good opportunity for you."

Stannis looked up, "It's unfortunate for the Starks that their keep be taken, but yes. Freeing their lands from the Ironborn is a sure way to gain their trust."

Ironborn? Cass' lips pursed. "Theon Greyjoy."

"You know of him?" Stannis stood up. "A fool. Though he's managed to maintain the castle for days before a raven could get out apparently. Ned emptied Winterfell to meet us, not that I blame him exactly." Stannis shook his head, "The North is having more and more problems than I was first aware of. The Greyjoys come from the south and the Boltons…"

"The Boltons?" Cass knew of Roose Bolton. He was one of Robb's captains—the one with the leeches, if she remembered rightly enough. "What of them? They are south with Robb Stark."

"The lord is but his bastard is up here making a mess of things." Stannis let his squire put on some gloves. He was getting ready to set sail. Good. "We're taking on the Greyjoy fleet, Cass. Stay here in White Harbor. I'll have some men stand by and…"

"No." Renly had left men with her too. "I am not staying here."

"Ship's too risky for a woman, Lady Cassana." Davos said from the door.

Cass looked to Melisandre. "She's coming."

"You are my sister," Stannis replied sternly. "After Shireen you are my heir."

"Then I will ride with Ned Stark." She curtsied. "I have to go catch up with him. Excuse me." Cass ran before her brother could yell for her to stop.

"Ned!" She shouted from the deck. Ned Stark was approaching his horse, and Cass still had time to reach him. "Ned, wait!"

He turned and halted before mounting, unsurprised by Cass running up to him and his bannermen. "My son had trouble getting rid of you too."

Her face was red. "I have a hard time sitting by idly. It got me in too much trouble in the Red Keep, as you know."

Ned looked to his men and then to her. "This is a battle, Cassana."

"I'll stay in the back." Cass said. "I don't wish to fight. I just do not want to be left here. It took me too long to find my brother again, but he does not wish for me to join." The Starks don't fly my banners and neither does he. She did not care who brought her to Winterfell as long as she got there.

A man took her by the arm at Lord Stark's command, and brought her to a caravan. She recognized this man. He was all in red, like Melisandre, and Cass stiffened as he sat across from her. "I know you."

The old man nodded. "It is good to see you safe, Lady Cassana."

"Thoros." The red priest looked very different than when she had last seen him in King's Landing. He was no longer fat, but gaunt—his skin hanging off him. "What are you doing here?"

"Serving the Hand of the King." The caravan started moving, and Thoros of Myr stayed in the van with her. "Lord Stark had sent us on a mission when he was the Hand of King Robert. We were hunting Gregor Clegane, but when your brother died and Ned was accused, the Brotherhood-as we called it-became outlaws."

A shame. That is a dog that needs to be on a tighter leash.

Thoros continued, "We thought to bring justice to this land on our own terms, under King Robert's name and no banners, but when we heard of Lord Stark's return, we knew we should return to him and ask what the Hand requires."

"King's men then." For some reason, Cass liked the thought. "You are loyal to Robert."

"Aye, my lady. Ned Stark did not kill him. Dondarrion and Alyn convinced us of that and surely you agree, seeing you with him and not in chains as the Lannisters said. We fight under Robert's law dictated by his Hand."

"Then you should also be loyal to his heir too, no?" Cass saw his hesitation. "Stannis has a red priestess by his side. Perhaps you two should meet."

Thoros almost smiled. "There was a time, my lady, when I thought the Lord of Light was just a bunch of flame and smoke, but being an outlaw... changes things. Yes, I think I would like to speak with her. Maybe she can explain some things to me."

"Maybe you can do the same for me." Cass stretched out her legs. "My brother speaks of Boltons and bastards. I'm no child of the North so this all very confusing to me."

"He means Ramsay Snow." Thoros' head went down. "It was before we joined the Hand or even before this war started, but Roose Bolton had his bastard come and be his heir. Ramsay was amassing an army at the Dreadfort."

And no one thought to ask why? Cass did not know these men or their houses. They were northerners, and when it came to northerners, she had trusted in the Stark's judgment of them. But I trusted Robb about Theon. I wanted to say something about him, but I didn't, and now look what happened. "Is he fighting with Ned?"

"…we don't know."

"He hasn't declared anything?" Cass was cringing on the inside. "How has this gone unchecked?" What is Robb doing? He is smarter than this.

"Roose Bolton is a powerful lord, Lady Cassana. It would be unwise to threaten him. But Lord Stark had Ser Cassel stop the boy."

"I do not like Roose Bolton," Cass said suddenly. The name gave her chills, made her hands feel sticky. "His eyes are too pale. Darker than milk though. It's too strange."

"You should not judge by appearances, my lady, but I agree. I do not like the man either, but if you want a real reason to hate him, consider the First Night."

She did not know what that meant. "Excuse me?"

"It's silly for me to think a maiden as yourself would know, but in the days before Jaehaerys I, it was customary for lords and kings to bed the brides of commoners the night of their wedding."

"And this man does this monstrous act while Winterfell does nothing?"

"He denies it of course."

"Yet you know of it and are not of these lands either." Cass rolled her eyes. And people call my brother a whoremonger. "This Ramsay Snow…"

"Bolton."

"This Ramsay Bolton is as monstrous sounding as his father?"

Thoros cringed, "Worse my lady, but he is dead. There is nothing more to fear of him."

She would be glad never to meet the man. She was also glad that she would most likely never have to see Roose Bolton again either. A thought bothered her immensely. "Loyalties should not be that hard."

"Aye, my lady. I am your brother's man and R'hllor's servant. But it does not come that easy to some."

No, it doesn't.

She had nothing more to say to the red priest. Cass felt uneasy. Winterfell was burning while Robb was marching the other way. And he was just worried about my brother. Thank the gods Ned was here to recapture the castle.

Cass fell asleep eventually. Thoros of Myr was gone when she awoke, and she was left waiting in the caravan. This was not, she knew, the brightest of ideas. She could easily be captured by some Ironborn and brought to Pyke for ransom, but she knew Stannis' fleet would leave no boats to bring her back on. She knew the Stark footmen and horsemen would run them down and Winterfell would be relieved.

The siege was short.

Cass peered out of the caravan, seeing the smoke start to fade from the keep in front of her. Men were still running everywhere, and she was reminded of Robb Stark's camp. The direwolf banners were taking down the kraken ones, and she saw her brother's own flag—that weird stag in flames—raise over some of the walls.

People were cheering Ned's name and even Robb's, though he was leagues and leagues away. Cass did not have anyone escort her from the cart or into the inner reaches of Winterfell, so she helped herself, deeming it safe.

As she walked through the walls, the soldiers still talking to the smallfolk and dragging out the bodies of fallen men, Cass noticed the other sigil littering the ground. A skinless man?

She did not know where her brother had gone. Some of his men had arrived here on foot, but his fleet was still on the water, taking on the Greyjoys. Ned Stark was nowhere to be found either, not in this mess, and Cassana assumed her best bet was to go into the keep itself to find the Lord of Winterfell. No, I need to do something else first. My brother is not here. These people do not know.

There was a raised platform in the square, and Cass ran her hands through her hair, trying to pat out the frizz. She was dusty, dirty, bloody, but still she got up on the wooden stage. "Northmen?" She was not used to speaking out to the masses—to anyone really. At King's Landing and the Red Keep, all she did was follow her brothers about like a child. She remembered Robb talking to her, laughing about her love for court, "You get to stand there and look pretty?"

She had no silks and powders to hide behind now. Cass coughed again. "My name is Cassana Baratheon."

Some people stopped. Some soldiers turned, but the majority of people kept talking to themselves or worrying about what just happened. She could smell the death around, the blood and decay, but Cass needed to say something before all of this was out of their minds and they no longer thought of war. But it was only when an old man came through the crowd, a sword still flaming in his hands, and called for them to listen that they listened. Thoros of Myr was dragging two prisoners behind him, soldiers and others flanking the men in chains.

Cass coughed again. "I have come from your King in the North's camp. I am not sure what many of you have heard about me, but do not confuse who I am. I am a Baratheon, and my loyalties stand with my brother."

There was more talking, about what, Cass could not discern. She didn't want to hear. She did not know how fast news had traveled, if they had heard about her and Robb or worse her and Jaime, but Cass patiently waited for them to quiet again. "And though I am loyal to him, I love Winterfell as you do. This is my home." She exaggerated. "I was brought here when my eldest brother, your last true king, took down King Aerys and his madness. I was raised here by your Lord Eddard Stark and his wife, Lady Catelyn.

"I am…" She hesitated, "…a friend of Robb Stark. I am a sister to his sisters. I know of the northmen. I have crossed through many lands, and though we are so north, I have never felt warmer than I do here with these people. I am a believer of the Seven, but the Old Gods surround me as I stand before you right now."

There was nothing. No visible reaction, and Cass did not know what she was trying to say, if the words flopping from her mouth were even being heard. This was a stupid idea. But she could not just stop now.

"My brother Stannis…he was not raised here. He did not come here during the rebellion. He was raised in Storm's End with my parents before they died, but he is here now. He has bled for you. He has his people die for you because you are his people. The usurper Joffrey sits on the Iron Throne, pretending to rule the Seven Kingdoms. And you are one kingdom that he wishes to control. You do not want that, but these are times of long summers and even longer winters. It is not the time to risk isolation. It is not the moment to be a lone wolf when there is a pack that bids you to join."

Cass swallowed again, counting herself lucky that no one was booing her off or throwing tomatoes (or worse) at her head. She inhaled and started again. "That is all I want to say. I…I will not praise my brother or announce him as your king. You were the ones that crowned Robert, not me. You will be the ones that crown his heir as well."

Lord Beric was suddenly next to her, tugging on her arm. Cass could almost kiss the man; she knew him well. Lord Beric tugged at her again. "My lady?"

"Yes…" Her voice lowered, her cheeks were flushed. She was surprised she was not retching again. I wonder what Jaime would say if he could see me like this. The thought had her turning away. "…Gods, Dondarrion. Get me out of here. I'm a complete fool."

"No, my lady." The young lord was leading her away and towards the insides of the keep. "That was quite…kingly."

Winterfell was too quiet, but that could have been because she was choosing to ignore what people were saying. There were too many whispers, voices too low and saying things about her and other nonsense she didn't want to hear.

"She was betrothed to Robb Stark but was kidnapped."

"She freed Jaime Lannister. She's a lion."

"She's a Baratheon from the Red Keep. She supports Joffrey."

"She's the Queen in the North."

"She's carrying our King's child."

"She saved Ned Stark from the Red Keep. She saved the Lord of Winterfell and has brought back the real king."

But that wasn't what was eating her. Even as she was brought through the familiar twisting towers, huddled in a bath and being soaked with rosewater, the whisper haunted her mind. She did not believe it to be true, and still… Theon, how could you?

He was one of the men Thoros had in chains—him and some ugly boy that Cass did not know or have any interest in. Ned had locked Theon in a cell without a word, without any knowledge of what his judgment would be, but Cass knew. His head should roll.

Stannis was still gone. Theon's fleet was small, and most of it was just empty boats, which confused Cass until she finally opened her ears and heard her new maids talking. "The Bastard of Bolton is to be executed."

She nearly spit out the bathwater she had been playing with. "What do you mean?"

The young girl looked shocked that Cass had spoken, as if she thought Cass had been incapable of speech and hearing this whole entire time. Though that came to no surprise to Cassana. She had seen herself in a looking glass and did not recognize the girl staring back at her. She seemed a ghost. Her cheekbones were too defined, her face pale and her hair patchy and brittle. There was a thin white line on her cheek from where Joffrey had hit her. She was never a great beauty, but the beauty she had managed to maintain had vanished from her.

The dead do not listen and they certainly do not talk.

But her maid was polite and answered, "Ramsay Bolton took Winterfell from Theon Greyjoy, my lady. Lord Stark has sentenced him to death."

And where is his father? Cass rubbed at her arms. "Are you almost done?"

"We have to clean out the cuts, my lady. Your feet are very scabbed…"

"It's alright. I'm fine." She sat up in the tub, naked, soap still sliding from her arms. "Can you dry me off now?"

They did as she asked and handed her a robe. Cass waited for her hair to dry, waited for them to put it up in some intricate design and give her a dress from Sansa's closet. The blue dress would not have fit when she had first come to Winterfell, but now it was loose on her thinning frame.

Lord Beric was waiting for her outside of the room she was given. He was sworn to the Stormlands and her brother, and the young knight dutifully thought he should watch her. Like Thoros and herself, the war had affected Lord Beric immensely. He was once quite handsome, but now… Cass tried to smile. "Are you feeling well, Lord Beric?"

Dondarrion attempted to match her false face. "I've had better days and much worse days, Lady Cassana. You, however, look lovely."

She wanted to hit him for lying. "Thank you. Will you accompany me to see Lord Stark?"

"I am not sure Lord Stark wishes to speak to anyone, my lady. He…he's trying to figure out how to tell the Lady Catelyn."

Cass swallowed. "Then I must speak to him right away. Please, Lord Beric."

Ned was not in the main hall of Winterfell. He was hiding away in his bedroom, the door closed, the candles unlit. Lord Beric knocked on the door for her, and Ned Stark slowly answered. "Lord Beric, Lady Cassana."

She curtsied, her head almost going to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Ned. I'm so sorry we were not quick enough."

Ned swallowed and grabbed Cass' hand. "Please, come inside."

She suspected a man that had just lost his two sons to act differently. She had not been with Ned Stark when either had first heard the news. They were both called little princes, but the names still stuck to her so much more than any of the rumors she heard about herself. Bran and Rickon are dead.

"If there is anything I can do, Ned, let me…"

"I looked at the pikes."

Her back felt cold at his words. Cassana rubbed her shoulders, treading carefully. She did not know how Ned Stark would react, but this…calm demeanor worried her. "That seems almost like torture, Ned."

"I suppose it would. But don't you wonder why I haven't sentenced Theon yet?" Ned sat back at the desk in the room, looking at the piles of paper. "My captains ask me every hour it seems."

Ned was acting strange. Perhaps it is the grief. Cassana tried to choose her words carefully. "He was your ward. I expect you hold some love for him."

"He betrayed my eldest son and murdered my youngest two."

"Then why?" Was that what he wanted her to ask? Ned was playing games, which was unlike him, but he also seemed unbearably stressed. "You have sentenced Ramsay Bolton."

"Even that I am questioning."

"I would not," Cass immediately said.

"If Lord Bolton turns on Robb, Cassana, that would be a great blow to his cause." Stark gave her a stern look.

Cassana walked around the room, picking up Sansa's skirts. She did not want to ruin the gown. It was much too pretty, a much nicer garment than she had worn in a long time. "I am not convinced Lord Bolton will not turn even if you save his son. I…do not know much of the man, but what I do know seems cruel. What I have heard, Lord Stark, does not make sense. Where is Roose Bolton now?"

"Last I heard, my son ordered him to take Harrenhal."

Then he is far away from Robb's side. Good. "And he was successful?" She calmed down seeing Ned nod, inhaling deeply. "I must sound paranoid."

Ned did not disagree. "Explain your reasoning then."

"Perhaps you can correct me, but I was talking to the Red Priest. He gave me some history of Lord Bolton and his son. It seems funny to me that the man would not keep his bastard on a shorter chain. He allowed the boy to rape and steal from his liege lord's land."

"A man is not his son. You have seen it with your own brother and Joffrey."

"Joffrey is his mother's son as you uncovered yourself, Ned." Cass argued, thinking of Jaime and how he was not his son either. "I have seen the opposite more often than not. I did not know my own parents, but the parents and their children I do know have all had similar…conditions. Tyrion is the best and worst of Tywin Lannister though neither of them will admit it. And your own sons…Jon is…"

"Jon is not a good example," Ned said suddenly. "Roose Bolton has been my father's bannerman and mine for years. I have informed him of his son's crimes and will carry out the sentence myself."

He legitimized the bastard because he had no sons, and now you wish to take this one away from him and do nothing to stop the father? Cass wanted to burn all the paper in Winterfell. "I would ask that you not tell him or keep Ramsay to ransom, but I have another thing to ask." And I doubt you'll agree to that either.

She felt bad for arguing with this man so close to grief, but Ned did not seem bothered by it. The stress was there, but if he were mourning the losses of his sons, he did not show it. That was why Cass had no trouble saying, "Do not tell Robb about Bran and Rickon."

Ned folded the paper he had been writing on. "I wasn't going to."

She stuttered, "You-you weren't?"

"No, Cass."

"He would go mad. Catelyn too. I know it's his brothers and her sons, but they are trying to fight a war, Ned, and if they found out about this…"

"They will come back to Winterfell. I know. I do not need them here. Your brother is forcing the Greyjoys away from the North's shores, and my men here are enough to quell the rest of Ramsay's outlaws that are not here. And…" Ned was writing on the paper again, seeming almost happy. "I have seen the pikes. They were burnt, but not completely. I could still make out their faces."

I know, Ned. I don't know why you wish to torment yourself. She could not do the same. She would not be able to see anyone she loved dead and lifeless, especially just their head. Ned was handing her the piece of paper, and Cass opened it, confused.

There was only one sentence there in clear, precise writing.

They were not my sons.

"Lady Cassana," Ned began formerly as he lit a candle for the first time in the room. Cass held it over the flame, letting the paper burn. "I need someone to personally tell my son and my wife of this."

He wanted them dead then. She saw it in his grey eyes, cool and begging her to keep this secret for him. Ned Stark wanted to keep Bran and Rickon dead and safe.

"You are sending me back to him." Cass did not know what else to say. Fear started to spread in her body. She could not return to Robb's camp without her tail between her legs and explaining what she did with Jaime. I could lie though. Even if Jaime were to say the truth, they would believe you over him. And if that man were to wake, the man Jaime had maimed -what would he say? He can't say anything Cassana. Jaime cut out his tongue.

"I am asking you to go back to him. Not to marry or be a prisoner, Cass." Ned rubbed his neck. "I am asking you to be an envoy…a representation of the alliance between your brother and me."

"Have you heard back from Robb yet? Has he responded to Stannis' terms?"

"Not yet."

"And if he says no?"

Ned gave her an incredulous look. "He won't say no."

No. He wouldn't. His men will, but they need to learn to love Stannis. They need to love the Baratheon name again. Cass blinked, smirking at Ned Stark. "I hope you don't expect me to give them a speech." Embarrassing herself once was quite enough.

"I'll send a raven to your brother first, of course, to ask him. I'm sure he'll send some of his banners with you."

She would like that, she supposed. "But Robb's men might hate me for what I did."

"You're a lovely girl, Cassana. And the swords you bring may earn you more love."

Ned was smarter than he looked. Sending her to Robb would guarantee that some of Stannis' men go with her, if not a large section of her brother's army. Cass only had to agree to go. And of course, she would. She needed to go to prove that her brother was the rightful king, to convince Winterfell and the North that he deserved their support, that they should love him like they did Robert. They loved Robert because he was a war hero. Stannis was doing that in the Iron Islands. And Cassana had tried to think of how she could help. She tried to on the square. She had thought of ways that a woman in her position could do anything, would have any influence without having to sell herself, but those thoughts were bare.

"It would be simpler if I just married him, Ned." Cass admitted. "My brother asked me to. The alliance would be bound then."

Ned looked at her, questioning what he should say next. "I hope my son is as forgiving as you think."

She wasn't sure she felt the same.

"And Cass, I plan to send you there through the Red Fork."

Cass lurched. I suppose a boat is better than crossing the Riverlands by horse again. But she still hated the idea. "Yes, that seems faster." Something still bothered her. "…Ned, Theon has sacked your castle. It is still a great crime. You asked me why I thought you did not sentence him, but in truth, I do not know."

"Robb has already learned Winterfell was attacked, Cassana. I told him myself, though he does not know of his brothers. He wishes to decree the sentence himself."

Good. Cass thought, until the realization hit her. Oh gods. "Make sure I don't see him, Ned. Or I might pass judgment on him first."

A/N:

I'm not going in circles, I swear.

Also, I just realized I'm approaching A Storm of Swords (or partially in...the time frames are weird), and it's freaking me out. That's all. Thanks for reading.