A/N:
Oh boy. I didn't realize we'd be getting here so fast.
Once again, I am going to be redundant for the now 20th time and thank all of my wonderful readers and followers and favoriters. Special thanks to all of my reviewers who continue to give me wonderful feedback on this story (thanks so much!):
Alimba (thank you!), Phase D (good and heartbreaking are great adjectives for a GoT fic, so thanks!), duchess123 (I hope you didn't mind waiting this long! And glad you're reading it again), Lawsy89 (Writing Robb any other way just seemed silly and bad, so I'm glad you liked it. And the angle for that wedding...you'll see shortly.), (I suggest not reading the title of this chapter. I also suggest to remember I like happy things if that's any comfort), TomHardyGirl6489 (Me too. Still. Even after this chapter and future planned ones.), Guest (Thank you! Those last scenes were my personal favorite with them so I'm glad you enjoyed them as well.), StarkStruck11 (Thank you! I'm trying to keep her realistic, and I'm so glad you think it's good!), and Guest (That's interesting. I'm glad you like the letter part as well! Thanks!).
Safe to say I'm nervous about this chapter as well.
Disclaimer: I do not own GoT or ASOIAF.
That news traveled faster than wildfire.
Cass first noticed a change in the men, how they looked at her, and the whispering and laughs. They were more aggressive—the things they said about her and what they wanted from her would have made a more sheltered girl flush. I am no longer a queen to them. The thought was not as disappointing as she thought it would be.
She could understand Robb's decision even though it did hurt her. Cass shouldn't have expected his forgiveness, but a part of her had. A part of her thought he would have been disappointed, angry, and then forgive her and asked when they would be married. He is stronger than that, and he does not deserve someone like me—someone who would betray him like that. She had told herself many times that she was not a wolf, and now it would be true.
But she was lucky that the news of Robb's future wedding was undermined by the news of another. Lady Catelyn had not thought less of her at all. In fact, Cass felt a little more empowered after Robb's refusal to fulfill their previous engagement. She was no longer just a woman, here because of some man she would one day marry. She was here because of her loyalty to her house, her mission to the Baratheon name, and Catelyn Stark respected that. Many of her men did too.
"My daughter has donned red and gold."
That was a weird thing to say, Cass thought, until she saw the letter a raven had brought to Catelyn. What is Cersei doing? …Why is Jaime allowing this?
"They want her birthright. They want Wintefell," Cass understood the marriage easily. They think Bran and Rickon are dead and if Robb dies in this war...She wondered how Tyrion could ever be persuaded to marry someone like Sansa Stark. She was beautiful, yes, but too young, and far too inexperienced for Tyrion's liking. "My lady, it could have been worse. She could have married Joffrey."
That barely seemed to be any comfort. "The Imp tried to kill my son. I do not know how they expect to get Winterfell. Even if my younger sons are dead, my oldest and my husband are still breathing."
Which I suspect the Lannisters want to change. But no, not Jaime. Jaime had promised to help her end this. Is this his sick idea of an alliance?
But that was also assuming Jaime was back in the Red Keep, which was something Cass should have not done. He could be dead, she realized. He could be somewhere—lost or rotting and dead. She squirmed, her back feeling cold, the thin hairs on her neck standing on end. "Has Robb told you yet?"
It was a poor question. Of course Robb had told her, and Catelyn nodded dimly, her green eyes straying away from Cass. "Are you okay with that?"
She had to be. Cass grinned. "It is just circumstance."
The words were familiar to both of them, but now Cass understood them completely. It was strange to think how her fate did not only depend on her actions, but the actions of countless of others. Robb could have easily married her weeks ago. She could have been betrothed to Robert Arryn or Trystane Martell half a decade ago. Cersei could have killed her or kept her. Jaime could have brought her back to the Red Keep. Robert could have lived. There were so many instances that were not her own, so many pieces that she had no control over, that it made her cling even more so to the actions she could manipulate.
And she had gained some control. She had some Stormlords and the possession of some of Stannis' men, but that in itself was risky. What her brother was doing was not completely in accordance to what Cass wanted him to do, and she was still curious about Melisandre and her demons. She did not trust that woman. She had killed Renly, and Cass would not forgive easily for that.
She could go back to Stannis and the North. But thinking of Renly also made her think of Loras Tyrell and Highgarden. She wondered if seeing Loras again could convince him and his family to follow her brother, that if she could…forgive Stannis, Loras could too. But that would mean going back to the Red Keep. And she would not do that. Not for any silly flower.
"You do not have to go to the Twins," Catelyn suddenly said, dragging Cass back from her distracted thoughts.
"Excuse me?" She almost wanted to laugh, "But why would I go there?" Just the word made her sweat. She could smell the blood on her arms, the sweat and adrenaline coating the air from Jaime as he took down three Freys. And then there were the things they were saying…
Catelyn seemed uncomfortable. "That is where the wedding will be. It's soon now that Robb has agreed to it."
It's at the Twins? "…but why is it there? Why not in Riverrun?"
"Lord Frey is an old man that…"
"So is Lord Hoster, I'm sorry to say. Surely he'll want to see his first grandchild marry." Cass did not like that idea at all. Yes, they would be guests of the Freys, but the words kept coming back to her, that they were working with Lord Tywin… Jaime said they were just saying that though. He wouldn't lie. Unless he didn't know. "Catelyn, I just don't…"
"Neither do I, Cassana, but we have already prolonged this betrothal. We cannot slight Lord Walder any more. But if you are fearful, like I said, you do not have to come."
"No, that is alright." Cass would save face and go. Though it would be embarrassing, she needed to represent her brother properly, and a king would attend his warden's wedding if he could. It was her duty. "I will go to the wedding."
Cass dreamed again the following night.
She normally never dreamed, only bits and pieces sometimes of things that happened throughout the day, but she could tell this dream was different. She could feel the surrealness, the tangible nature of every object. Even the air seemed thick and weighted.
It did not seem like it was coming from her own eyes, as if she had drifted to sleep only to be pushed and dragged.
Cassana seemed to have woken even while sleeping. She forced her eyes open only to see she was in a weirwood again. Her hands clawed at the ground, the dirt, the brown taint eroding into her fingernails and pores. She tried to steady her breathing, extending her short breaths into long and deep inhales. Red leaves were falling everywhere, crowning around her head, and Cassana sat up.
The sun was breaching through the trees, and she could hear birds sing gently through the wind. It would have been peaceful—beautiful even—if not for the graves in front of her.
There were three of them, all of the same size, all with pillars of white marble marking the headstone. The one on the far left seemed almost shining—as if it were soaked. Cassana stood and slowly walked to the grave. She could smell the salt and brine from the porous stone, but other than that, the grave was plain. The dirt underneath the stone was fresh, but that was true for all the graves, and Cass walked on.
The next one was engraved, but not with a name. She touched the stone and the mark outlined, recognizing it immediately to be the seven pointed star. The Faith of the Seven was clear to her, and her fingers traced all the points, her mind naming each one as she went to a different point—the father, the mother, the maid, the warrior, the smith, the crone, the stranger—all were there.
The last marker was bathed in the forest sun. There were red leaves all over the top of it, falling from the weirwood, and as she touched the stone, her hand felt burned. This one frightened her most of all, and Cass turned away only to be jerked back by the hooded figure behind her.
The figure said nothing, but stood there, watching, completely wrapped in black. Cass didn't know what to say, didn't know if she could say anything, and even though she was afraid, she could not stand by that grave any longer. She approached the unfamiliar person and tried to open her mouth. No words came out.
The stranger held out a hand, wrinkled and pale, stopping her from walking. "All three wore crowns. All three had men die and all three will die no more than men."
Cass turned back to the graves. She opened her mouth again, but still nothing.
"Why is a king a king if he can be undone so easily? What good is a king that cannot escape death?"
She found her voice. "No one can escape death, stranger." The words sent shivers down her spine.
The hooded figure's head lowered. "Aye. Your words are true. No one cannot escape death. The false kings will fall when winter comes. These three first and then the rest. "
She remembered the cold from the last dream, the fear and smell of death and rot coming with it. "Will we all fall when winter comes?"
"How do you stay warm, child?"
She looked at her hand. It was red from the last gravestone. "With fire."
"But fire is wild. Fire is unruly. Yes, you need both. You need both."
Cass wanted to ask what the stranger meant, but her voice was lost again, and she was soon waking.
She felt sick while they traveled. And it wasn't like the sea nausea. It wasn't the dread of watching Robb swear himself to another and then bed her, though that did irk her still. There was a pit there inside her, filled with biting acid and a hollow ache. Cass felt…she felt afraid. She had not been to a wedding for quite a while, and the thought of going to this one terrified her without any real reason.
You have reason to.
She watched Lord Bolton sometimes while they rode. Cass kept a fair distance away from Robb, and Roose Bolton was normally close by his side, lifeless eyes and stern face focused ahead. She could not read that man, nor was she sure she wanted to see what was inside his head. She looked at the Frey bannermen too, but all of that was useless. All of that proved nothing to her, and she had to force herself to believe that her inane thoughts were just paranoia. But her dream was there too. Three kings will die before winter. Cass swallowed and steadied her horse on.
When they were side by side, she whispered to Lord Beric, "I will not let my men in without their weapons when we get there. Tell them also to not drink a single drop when we are inside. I will make them pay 10 gold dragons for each sip of wine they take." Cass tried to look serious. She felt like a little girl, sitting on her padded saddle blanket but she was still holding Lord Beric's attention, so she continued. "Only eat what Lord Walder has eaten to obtain the guest right. Eat as soon as possible, Beric."
The man was not nearly as confused as Cass expected him to be. He slowed his horse's pace "Are you dreading this encounter too?"
"I do not trust the Twins," Cass said immediately, unable to hide the tremble in her voice. "I do not like where we are going, but for Stannis' sake, I must go. I will see Robb Stark wed and then we will be gone."
The towers were looming ahead. They did not have much time left, and Cass was preoccupied by chambermaids about what dress she was going to wear to begin to think of what she would do if they got there. Get to Walder Frey, Cassana. If they let you, get near the man and make sure you remember your training.
They were setting camp outside the Twins when she gained enough courage to talk to Robb again. He never looked as much a man as he did then, Cass decided. His face was certain and long—almost like his father's. Robb was petting Grey Wind's head, looking over his debelted scabbard.
"Lord Stark," Cass called, and Robb responded. He was no longer a king, even though some of his men thought differently. It would be a hard transition, one Stannis would have to win with his victory in the North, but he would do it. He could take the throne and Robb could take this Frey girl and go back home. "May I speak with you?"
"You may." He was still looking at Grey Wind. His guards stood solemnly around him, but Cass did not mind. She hoped her words would only incite them as well. "I always find the words of my allies important to me."
She swallowed at her new title. She was an ally to him and nothing more. Good, Cassana. That is all you need to be. "I hope you do not intend on leaving your sword here."
"A wedding is no place for a sword."
"If you are certain Lord Walder is a man of his word." Cass stared at the object. It would be useless in her hands. "My men will not go in unarmed."
Robb turned at those words. "And what if they are not let inside?"
"Then I'm sorry, Lord Stark, but that will have to be the case then. I rather them be cold than dead. I'm sure you can understand." Cass looked to Grey Wind. "At least keep him, Robb."
"Lady Cassana, you aren't in any position…"
"I am not saying this for you." She said sharply, even thought she was saying this for him. "I am protecting my brother's alliance. If you die, what is Stannis left with? Your heir is locked in the Red Keep." She would not dare to mention Bran or Rickon. "And Ned Stark wishes to remain in Winterfell. Please, Robb. Bring Grey Wind with you. If your new wife fears him, she fears you too."
Those words seemed to hit him. Robb picked up the sword from the floor. "Do you feel it too?"
"It's raining," Cass said. It hadn't been before, but now she could hear it. She could hear the water drip and plop over the tent, and the pleading Freys and tombstones came back to her. "And I'd use a dagger, if you're nervous." She looked to the other guards. "And my sense. A dagger in my boots and good sense, Robb. Please."
"Cass, it's just a wedding." Though the words fell flat, and even as he said them, Robb picked up a dagger from the discarded belt. "I won't have my men drink."
"Not wine. Have them drink water at least."
"My mother gave me the same advice." He swallowed. "…I didn't think my wedding would have me nervous in this sense."
Cass laughed a bit and walked forward to Robb. She grabbed his hand. "I also wanted to wish you luck…and offer my blessing."
Robb reddened a bit. "Thank you. Cass, when it comes time for the bedding…"
"I don't wish to see it either…I'm sorry." Cass let go of his hand. "I'll leave."
She did just that and returned to her own tent, where handmaidens were soon busying themselves again. Cass was in no mood for any of this, but she sat in her tent, absentmindedly nodding when they asked her questions, her mind still spinning. It is just a wedding. It is just a wedding.
When they were done, her hair was spiraled upwards in some complicated braids. She was wearing a dress of gold linen with black trims and lace, and if it weren't for the small scars on her arms, it may have seemed as if the last months never happened. Lord Beric was waiting to bring her into the Twins' hall, and she let him guide her, her men with their swords on their belts.
They were, of course, stopped at the gate. The Stark men already appeared to be inside.
"My lady, weapons are not allowed inside. They are not needed."
Cass stared at the Frey man's own sword. "It seems unfair that you wear a sword on your belt while my men cannot. The Freys may be the Stark's men now, but they are unfamiliar to me. I do not feel safe without them." She frowned, pretending to be upset, but the guard would not relent. She turned to Lord Beric instead. "Dondarrion, have them leave their weapons back at the tents and prepare. Be sure to move quickly. We cannot miss this wedding."
Dondarrion did what she said and led the men away. Cass would have to enter this keep alone.
Her first piece of advice to Stannis when he sits the Iron Throne, Cass thought, would be to build another bloody bridge. The Twins were the only crossing for hundreds of miles, and as she looked up at the Water Tower, her heart laden with rocks and metal and other heavy things, she couldn't help but think how all of this could have been avoided if Robb had crossed another way.
She was met with some Frey man inside, one of his sons, probably, and she felt the shivers line her arms. Do you know that I helped Jaime kill your brothers? Or maybe he was your father? Cass could not look at him. The weasel-like face gave her nightmares, but strangely enough, she also felt some weird empowerment. I could have killed him if I wanted to. She hadn't wanted to, but the strength was there. She could protect herself if she had to, though that didn't mean she didn't wish Jaime were here nonetheless.
That was a pointless and stranger thought, though. The Kingslayer had no reason to be by her side, and she should have not wished him to be. He loves me. All this talk of weddings kept reminding her of that thought. Jaime loved her and she had sent him away.
Robb had said that she loved him too, but that was just him trying to make sense of her actions. And even if she did, even if she did love Jaime Lannister, he was still exactly that—Jaime Lannister. There would no wedding and children in the Seven Kingdoms or Essos or any other land for either of them. It was silly and stupid of her to even think of him anymore. Yet she still did.
Lord Walder Frey sat on his oaken throne. He was an old man, very old, and Cass forced a smile on her face at the sight of him. She knew what Robert had thought of him, and after seeing him, she was beginning to form an even harsher characterization in her head. But still she smiled. "Lord Walder, I am grateful for the invitation to your hall."
The bridegroom was beside him, looking pale. But he held his chin high and wasn't shaking. Cass turned to look at the men beside him, and smiled seeing their wine glasses still full. Walder coughed. "Heh, is this the whore you originally slighted me for, son?"
The Young Wolf squirmed and took a piece of bread from a server's plate, handing it to Cass. "This is Lady Cassana Baratheon, my lord."
"So that's a yes, heh."
Robb said nothing.
Cass however, was not as silent. "I thank you for the bread, Lord Frey. You are a most kindly host." She took a bite. "And I hold no ire for Robb choosing one of your lovely daughters over me. Surely that is a just decision." The words were harder to swallow than the old, dry bread.
Catelyn was soon handing her a glass of water, and Cass sipped it eagerly. Lady Stark grabbed her hand. "Come stand by me, Cassana. The bride should be here shortly."
"Only if Lord Frey promises I get to sit by him at dinner." She smiled sweetly at the old man. Cass glanced to the young looking girl at his side and curtsied low, too low for the neckline of her dress. "If it please him."
The old man grunted some sort of reply in agreement, his eyes on her, and Cass grinned again to herself.
Her men did not show up through the doors, but more Frey girls did. She watched them all go down the aisle—some old and some young, some pretty and some ugly—and Cass wondered what Robb's bride would be like. He seemed nervous too. He kept on glancing to Grey Wind, who sat calmly by his side, and Cass knew what a part of him was thinking. You can not run from this, Robb. I am sorry. I wish you could. I wish you could run away like I did.
But she wondered if he still thought that when the bride came through the hall. This girl was by far the prettiest Frey girl she had seen—thin and with long brown hair and pale skin. Catelyn whispered that her name was Roslin, and that she was far less robust than Cassana was, though she was not sure whether that was a compliment or not. "I'm just worried about childbearing," Catelyn admitted, but Cass saw more worry easily on her face.
There was nothing amiss, which worried Cass more, if possible. The vows went smoothly, though Roslin seemed on the verge of crying every now and then. Robb did not smile too often at all, but he did dry her tears with his hands when her crying got very bad. There were no old gods mentioned at this wedding, and after the Septon was done, Cass could see Robb's longing to go out and find a godswood, but the Young Wolf stayed for the following feast.
The bedding would take place after that, and Cass felt that it was her responsibility to stay until then. Her men were not back though. Lord Beric was nowhere to be seen, and she was forced to take her place by Lord Walder Frey unaccompanied. She smiled as he stayed with her, touching his wife inappropriately while whispering lewd comments back at her. "You're not married I suppose then? Since Robb Stark here rejected you?"
That smile was hard to force. "No, my lord. I am not."
"Did you know 9 is my lucky number, heh?" He grinned a toothless sort of smile while touching wife number eight.
Cass turned to the meal in front of her. The musicians were playing too loudly and sounded almost off key, but perhaps she was too used to the ones that went to the Red Keep. There were drums too, sounding deep and echoing throughout the hall. They bothered her head."Really, my lord? Seven is mine. That is how many kingdoms my brother has."
The feast continued and the Stark men were pressured to drink, though only the Greatjon seemed to oblige them. Cass watched the men around the hall—the viewing easy to see by the dais. Her eyes strayed once again to Roose Bolton, and she wished she had a chance to talk to the man, if only to see if he knew about his son's death.
Robb seemed clueless with his new bride, who still looked extremely sad and nervous. It must be the bedding. Cass couldn't claim to hold the same fear if it were her and Robb Stark, but this Roslin did not know the boy like she did. Robb was handsome, but even handsome men could be cruel if they wanted to be. There was an edge in the Young Wolf's eyes, and Cass saw the same sentiment in Catelyn too. She sat, warily watching, attentively looking at the Frey men and her son.
The drumming noise continued to beat and beat and beat. Cass maneuvered herself in her chair, the wooden back digging uncomfortably into her skin. She turned to see Lord Frey laughing at something, his grin so wide and decrepit.
Frey looked to Cassana. "They say your brother treated with my newest son."
A singer's words caught Cass' attention, distracting her for a second from Walder Frey and the constant drums,
"And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low?"
"Yes." Cass took a sip of wine, forgetting her own promise. The drums kept beating, and the questions Walder Frey was asking were not the most innocent.
She thought it strange that this song was playing. Cateyn seemed to recognize the melody too. It was not really appropriate during these times of war. Roose Bolton seemed to have excused himself from his seat, and Cass stiffened. Grey Wind suddenly started to pace, uneasy.
Walder Frey patted her hand, "But I'm sure you know that being a lady is nothing compared to being a queen."
"Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know. In a coat of gold or a coat of red,"
Too many men were moving around. The Stark men were setting down their forks and quiet laughter. They saw the men in armor come in, and Cass' grip on her chair tightened. The wine in her throat felt dry. This isn't…
"A lion still has claws."
The first bolt was fired into Grey Wind's neck.
The direwolf growled and lunged towards the Frey man, but soon more and more crossbows were drawn out from their sides and bolts were flying everywhere. Cass saw them hit Robb, red blood already appearing through his bridegroom's clothes, his personal guard struggling to understand what was happening. She saw Roslin, his wife, start to cry even more, and Catelyn ran towards her son, only to be stopped by a Stark man. Robb's soldiers were pulling daggers, from their boots—but they were too slow and too small compared to the swords of Walder Frey's men.
"No…no." There was so much red. Stark men lay dying, and Robb had several bolts already embedded in his chest. The blood from the men was lying in puddles, pools of deep crimson on the hall's floor. She felt dizzy as she stood, but still she went. The guards were few up by the dais, and it was easy for her to approach Lord Frey from next to her. Cass pushed his wife aside and off her chair, letting the scared woman crash and hit the floor. She tugged at the back of Walder Frey's collar and dragged the old man up from his seat. His limbs dangled, practically lifeless already.
He was yelling for help, and Cass saw some darts fly towards her, but if they pierced her skin, she did not feel it. She was too focused, too numb by the dying screams, the smell of copper blood, to notice anything but the squirming man between her forearms. There was salt and saliva on her arms from where she held Lord Frey's neck. The man was ninety, feeble and weak. She wrapped her arms firmly across his throat, ready to give one small forceful push, to end this before…
Someone was dragging her back. She felt the hand on her shoulder and then the arms around her waist, holding her up. "Stop!" She screamed. Cass could taste the salt and blood on her lips. Too many men were dying and she could not tell who was who anymore. There were more men now, pouring through the doors, rushing and wielding swords and stabbing people, killing people. The moans of the dying were rattling across the vaulted ceilings, only masked slightly by the drums pounding and pounding and pounding against her head.
Catelyn was trying to reach her son, but it was failing, and Robb was on the ground, on his knees, when a large blond man came to him—pushing all others aside to get to him too. She had to help Robb and Catelyn and protect them. She couldn't let them die—no, she needed them to much for them to die. But still this man held her in place, powerful arms making her unable to move. Cass wriggled in this man's grasp. "Let me go! Let go!"
Every escape she tried to pull fell short. The man then held a hand across her mouth, silencing her. "Cass."
She froze at the voice, her limbs unable to connect with her head. Cassana tried to steady her breathing, but she couldn't. Her lungs could not get enough air with only her nose and suddenly she could feel how wet her arms were. Her mind could not think, could not understand why he was here and why he had brought all this blood and death with him.
And as much as she thought she imagined that voice, it spoke to her again, "I'm getting you out of here."
The hand from her mouth fell. She took a deep breath and glanced to the red liquid on her arms. Is that my blood? "No, don't." Her eyes went to Walder Frey, curled on the ground and shaking. "I have to kill him."
"I won't let you do that." He threw her up and over his shoulder. "I won't let you regret something like that." And the Kingslayer carried her out of the hall.
A/N:
There's a lot coming.
Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!