A/N:

I try to be faster! Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers for motivating me to write! It's been rough as of late, but I'm trying to find it again :) As promised here's a 2-part thank you to my reviewers (from Chapter 24 and Chapter 25):

KatieGG (Thank you! And I'm trying my best to update as fast as possible when I have enough written! I'll work on getting faster again), TomHardyGirl6489 (Things are about to get even crazier...), blackestnight10 (Thank you! And Cersei may not be the only concern!), DamonSalvatorelover (They have a lot of issues with each other to say the least!), johntomphson (Thank you for the critique! I must admit it's hard to take on something like ASOIAF and not get a little consumed/lost by the plot. I'm trying my best to navigate through the weeds. And I'm sorry you find Cassana completely unlikable since I believe characters should have both likable and unlikable moments, but I suppose I can't please everyone), Naruhina1519 (You'll be happy with this chapter then!), dannyedi (Thank you! I sort of wanted to avoid the stereotypical sassy OC if that makes sense. I'm glad you're enjoying the story!), MrsKasparVarn (Thanks you :D), Guest (he's the guy to please in Westeros!), DamonSalvatorelover (I love Tywin. He's scary but amazing. And it is hard. Too hard. I'm still struggling between them), KatieGG (Thank you! I hope this is somewhat soon!), and LolaStark (Wow! Thanks so much! It's one of the biggest compliments to hear that you're more engaged by the story than the typical love triangle aspect. Wow, wow! I try my best, really. You're making this little writer blush, and I hope this chapter does not disappoint!)

You guys are all great.

Disclaimer: If I owned Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, this chapter would have happened a lot sooner plot-wise.

A stone was missing from the netting. It must have fallen into the crypts. Cass touched the spot where it used to be as she passed her reflection in the Great Sept. The alter between the Mother and the Father was stunning. Candles and flowers hung from every inch of space, and the firelight made the dome's glow otherworldly.

The room was already filled with people. Lord Tywin excused himself from her side and was making his way to the front of the alter. Cass said her hellos and good wishes to the Tyrells. She even grabbed Cersei's hands and forced two kisses on the Queen's cheeks. "How proud you must be of your son."

The golden haired beauty chewed on the compliment. "Did you ever think your younger nephew would marry before you? I hope you aren't worried. I'm sure someone will have you despite everything."

It was hard to play nice. Cass smiled. "Your father actually found a match for me. It would be imprudent for me to say who…"

"What?" Cersei hissed, dragging Cass closer to her. She remained quiet in the dome. The guests still chattered around them, getting settled, but if anyone looked at them closely, the exchange would draw unwanted attention. "Who?"

"Now, now. I can't really say. But since you asked, I will tell you that this match would bring us even closer, dear sister."

Cassana did not wait for Cersei's rebuttal. She twisted her wrist out of the hold and moved to a seat next to Prince Tommen. Her little nephew seemed absolutely gitty to be next to her, and Cass took his hand. "Weddings are exciting, aren't they, Tommen?"

"Yes, and I'm excited for the feast too!"

Her hand tightened over his. She needed to focus. She could not get caught up in feasts or nephews or the other people watching her. You are leaving here tonight. You are.

Or she could stay. She could stay and marry Jaime and be Lady of Casterly Rock and Storm's End. And isn't that all you ever wanted? Cass swallowed. It was. But can you give up Robb to get it?

Cass looked at Jaime standing by Lord Tywin, draped in white. The beard on his face was growing thicker and thicker, and he stood so tall next to the statue of the Father. He is the Warrior. His hand was firmly planted on the hilt of his sword. He will hate his father for doing this. He will hate me for going along with it.

The harps started playing, and people began to grow quiet. Joffrey entered, cloaked in the reds of his father and mother's house. She lowered her head as he passed her row in respect. Joff smirked as he reached the altar, flanked by the remaining men of his Kingsguard. Jaime's face did not change as he saw his son, and Cass once again realized the disconnect. He said he was Robert's boy—not his. Joffrey and Tommen and Myrcella are only his through blood. King Joffrey was only Jaime's king, and even that was a question in the knight's mind.

She sat down as the High Septon raised his hand and Lady Margaery walked towards them all. The gown was revealing but beautiful, and everyone just smiled as the little Tyrell girl walked through the hall. Her own was magnificent, truly a gift. I wonder if she held that same smile when she walked to Renly. She wondered if Margaery ever cared for him, if she ever believed him to be a king at all. Now she accepts the Baratheon name again, but she will never be one of us. Cass must have been frowning. Tommen jostled her hand in his. "Aunt Cassana, don't be sad. Weddings are happy."

Cass jerked from his whispers. "I am happy." She smiled for him. "See?" Her chest was sinking from the weight. Joffrey took Margaery's hand, and they readied to exchange cloaks. Cersei was infatuated with the wedding, and behind Cassana, Tyrion and Sansa were both stone silent. She must be thanking the Mother it isn't her up there. Cassana held on to her smile despite her gnawing thoughts. The Tyrells will sell their daughter to any beast if she gets to be queen.

Lord Tywin stood by his grandson, dominating the scene with sheer presence alone. He could play at two types of war and play them better than most. He was not getting rid of an untamable king this way, but instead gaining food and armies and ships. What does Tywin have to gain from me? Storm's End was hers by right, but Tywin could easily take it as he took Riverrun. No, Cass. That's only part of the prize. He wants his son back.

Margaery was covered in Lannister red, and Cass' smile grew real. She would not get the golden cloak of Cassana's house or the true crowned stag. Joffrey is not Robert's son either—only Cersei's.

As the ceremony ended, Cass started to move out quickly through the crowd, but Jaime was soon next to her, leaning into her ear. "You wish to avoid me?"

All of the other guests were making their way to the feast. Cersei was pushed out by her father as she clung to Tommen, and Lady Olenna and Mace Tyrell joyously watched the new bride and bridegroom march back into the Red Keep.

Cass touched his cheek and then traced the crown on Jaime's armor as they walked. "You like this, don't you?"

He raised an eyebrow and took her hand off his chest. "You know I don't care, Cassana, but what provokes you to touch me like that here?"

She backed away a little. "Have you talked to your father recently?"

Jaime shook his head and began to lead her out. "At breakfast, I suppose. But nothing worth mention…"

"He's found a man to marry me off to."

The knight stood still, sword clattering at his side. The guests behind them made noises in surprise of the sudden stop, but Jaime didn't seem to notice. Cass curtsied, apologized, and moved Jaime over to one of the inner hallways of the Sept. It was dark, the few windows hidden behind rich, thick curtains. The wooden booths behind them were reserved for visiting Septons and Silent Sisters, but no one was there now. Jaime dragged her deeper into the hallway until all the ceremony noise turned into a low murmur. "You're trying to incite me."

"I'm trying to tell you something, Jaime. That's all." She took her arm back and turned around, not wanting to look at him. The damn silver hairnet was making her head itch and hurt. She couldn't think straight.

Jaime walked next to her. "Who in Westeros could he persuade to marry you? It would not take too much convincing for some, but any high lord worth having as an ally would not…"

"You." She stiffened, shoulders hunching. She had no idea how he would react or feel. Cass sighed. "He wants me to marry you."

Jaime laughed. "Cass, stop…"

"I'm not joking. He looked me in the eye and told me you'd be dismissed and that we're going to be married. He wants Storm's End, Jaime. He wants my people." Cass touched her ring. "And I think more than anything, he wants you to have Casterly Rock."

"I don't want Casterly Rock." Jaime snapped. "I don't want Storm's End either."

Her chest stung, but Cass only swallowed and held her chin high. "I do." Cass' voice came out softer than she intended. "I want Storm's End."

"It's already yours."

She shook her head. "My brother promised it to Robb Stark."

"Robb Stark is as good as dead."

Cass' mouth was dry. "Stop it."

"His head will be Joff's wedding gift from Ser Ilyn."

"Jaime, don't…"

"And his mother's too. If they don't rape her…"

She slapped him. The thump of the strike reverberated across the hall. Her palm ached at the contact, and Cass was already out of breath, furious, her face red hot. Just do it now. Just run now and leave. Who cares if you attend the feast? She began to move away, but Jaime grabbed her by the waist. "Jaime!" She struggled against his armor, causing the metal to echo and ring. "Let go of me!" She pulled off his fingers one by one and fell to her knees, the golden dress weighing her down.

He offered her a hand, but Cass ignored it. Jaime exhaled. "Get up, Cass."

She did. Cass fixed the sleeves on her dress and the hairnet on her head. Another purple pearl had fallen and Cass picked it up briefly before letting it fall again. How poorly made. Her attention strayed back to Jaime. "I don't understand you."

"You don't have to." Jaime offered her a hand. "We should go. You don't want to be anymore suspicious than you already are."

She couldn't argue that. His cheek was red from where she had hit him, but Cass did not say anything about it. She put her hand in his and followed him to the feast.

It had already started as they walked through the doors. Tyrion was cupping a nearly empty goblet of wine while Sansa sat obediently by his side. The Tyrells were all laughing and talking loudly, while Tywin Lannister watched from the dais. Cass' body grew cold again. There was so much blood there. And death. Her mind was flashing back to the Twins, to the bodies and screams that came after the laughter and music.

"I heard it called the Red Wedding, aye?" Some man Cass did not know was turning to talk to Ser Jaime. "Isn't that right, Kingslayer? You were there. You took them Tullys out of their keep."

Jaime didn't move to talk to the man. He pulled on Cass' arm, but the drunk man tugged at her other one. "Aye, and you were there too. What's a wolf bitch doing here anyway? You should be down in the Black Cells with your mast-"

The armored fist made a crack on the drunk man's face. Jaime flicked his wrist and grabbed a napkin from the table. "Don't bleed everywhere. My sister would have a fit."

She saw the man sink to his knees, coddling the napkin to his broken nose. Cass stepped around him. "Who was he?" He knew of my betrothal to Robb. She wasn't sure that the event was such common knowledge outside of royal courts, and she did not like that people were comfortable enough to talk about it to her face.

"Some ass." Jaime was focused forward, his green eyes taking in every inch of the hall. His muscles were relaxed, but Cass could sense that every other part of him was incredibly aware. He was thinking of Robb's wedding too.

"You can go to him." Cass gestured to his son. The crowd around them was clearing after Jaime's altercation. "Make sure he's safe. It is your duty."

"Apparently not for long." Jaime kept leading her until they sat next to Tyrion and Sansa at the long table connected to the main dais. Towards the center were Mace Tyrell and Cersei Lannister, surrounding their children. Loras Tyrell seemed to be the closest Kingsguard on hand, though Cassana thought she recognized some Kettleblack in white armor. Strange.

She looked to Sansa next to her and her husband. The dwarf seemed to be already drunk, and Cass poured her own glass of wine. I'll need to be foolish tonight. A singer was bellowing throughout the hall, and everyone stopped to listen. It was a new song, just for the King's wedding—which would also consist, Cass heard, of seventy-seven courses. Gods, this night will be forever.

She poured Jaime a glass of wine, but the knight seemed uninterested and pushed the cup towards his brother. Cass took another sip of her own. "You should at least drink to Joff and Margaery's health, Jaime."

He remained silent, his ears tuned to the singer's voice.

It wasn't The Rains of Castamere, but the words still irked Cassana incredibly. The song sounded simple enough, but when she finally recognized what it was about, she nearly spat out her drink. "What is he doing?"

"Recounting the great deeds of your brother, Lady Cassana." Tyrion reached over Sansa, took Jaime's cup, and downed it. "In the afterlife, of course. Everyone knows that while he lived, he was a magnificent traitor."

Cass wanted to follow suit, but she needed to remain somewhat sharp. "They don't believe it for a second, do they? What shit. Renly is dead." She earned a few looks, especially from the neighboring Tyrells. "He is. Can't they play something else? Like The Gold Rose or that bear song I keep hearing everywhere. I like that one."

"Lady Cassana, I believe Hamish the Harper worked very hard on this for the wedding." Sansa patted her hand. The action made Cass straighten.

"Soon they'll be singing songs of your dead brother, Lady Sansa. And how he rode into battle on his dead direwolf just to kill your father." The words made Sansa creep back, mortified, and Cass herself shook her head. "…My apologies, my lady. I…" She stood from the table and walked to the back of the hall, face red and hands cold. Hearing Renly talked about this way infuriated her. The Tyrells are covering their treason. She inhaled deeply. They gave him up so easily…they raised him to a king and then forgot him when he died. Her chest was tight and her fingers went to the laces on her spine to try to loosen them.

She was leaning against the wall when Jaime walked over to her. He handed her a glass of more wine. "It's just a song, Cassana."

She took it and drank it all, not caring suddenly about being alert or aware. She was a Baratheon and her tolerance was good enough to drink one measly glass. She pointed to her back. "Loosen this, please."

Jaime turned to look at the guests still at their tables, but everyone seemed too distracted to see Lady Cassana Baratheon and Ser Jaime Lannister talking alone in the corner with his hands on her bodice. "You're nervous."

"Aren't you?" She knew he was. "You look about the room every two seconds as if you're expecting a dragon to burst in and set the place ablaze."

"Wonderful analogy, really." Jaime tugged at the laces. "Have you heard of the dragon sightings in Essos?"

Cass scoffed. "And the Others in the North. The Seven. As if we would need that to deal with too."

He went to touch her face, but Cass inched back. Jaime frowned. "I know you don't like me right now, but lucky for you, I'm used to that."

"I think they're getting ready to serve dish fourteen." Cass pushed passed him and sat back in her seat.

She apologized to Sansa again, and the girl accepted it and went back to eating her quail. I'm nervous. But she couldn't afford to be nervous about this. She needed to be sure and certain. She needed to be positive that this was the right thing to do—that even if she couldn't get Robb Stark out of here, it was worth the risk.

Jaime will hate me.

Cass glanced at the knight next to her, not touching a bit of wine and eating slowly. He suspects something, I know he does. He sits with us to watch me not the king. Her gaze shifted again to Lady Olenna. The old woman did not seem bothered by anything at the other end of the table. She huffed when The Gold Rose finally started playing, and ignored the harper when asked what she thought of his rendition.

I don't trust her, and I don't trust them at all. Cass was sweating and her breathing became hard again. "You haven't touched your food, my lady." Sansa said, setting down her own fork.

Cass looked at the plate. "Ah, I'm saving myself for the last seven dishes."

Jaime didn't believe her and tossed her a piece of bread. "You'll get too drunk without eating."

"Nothing wrong with that." Tyrion mulled.

The music continued to play until the young King decided to come to their end of the table. Sansa noticeably cringed as Joffrey approached from behind, but the boy said nothing in her direction. He leaned against his younger uncle, chalice in hand and a smirk painted sloppily on his face. "I have a special performance for you."

His cheeks were bright red. Joffrey was clearly drunk, and Jaime stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see, Uncle Jaime. Bring in the Royal Jousters!"

The Royal Jousters turned out to be two dwarves, one in gold with a stag shield, and the other in grey with a wolf. Cass looked to see Tyrion's face turn almost purple as the two dwarves pretended to fight.

The hall filled with laughter and bellows and screams for the stag dwarf to conquer the wolf one. After a terrible attempt at a joust, the dwarves eventually fell down with the wolf on the bottom, screaming, "I yield! I yield!"

Jaime's hold on Joffrey's shoulders became more binding. "Joffrey, stop this."

Joffrey shrugged off the knight's grip. "Don't you dare lay hands on me!" He looked to his audience of guests and proclaimed. "A champion! A champion has been found! Uncle Tyrion, you'll defend my honor, won't you?"

Tyrion was about to rebut, but Jaime shot him a warning glance and said, "My king, that is enough. The wolf is slain."

"No!" Joffrey screamed. The word cut through the great hall, silencing the air. The whole room fell quiet at his enraged tone and turned their eyes to look at the little boy, red with anger. "No he wasn't!" Joffrey hit the table with a fist. "I had him! I had the damn wolf! But he lives because of this whore!"

Cass turned to Sansa, feeling pity. Poor girl. She didn't choose to stay—

She felt the cold wine seep over her head and stain her bodice. It bled through the gold cloth and stuck to her skin, sticky and sweet and hard. Cass stood up, horrified, and wiped the purple liquid from her eyes and hands. Don't say anything. Jaime was staring at her. Cersei was holding in a laugh. The court was hushed over, and Cass was on the verge of choking her nephew. Don't. Stay calm. You can't. These people think you are loyal to him. You are loyal to him. She grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe her face. Licking her lips, Cassana curtsied, not knowing if she could say anything that wouldn't be a threat.

Tyrion called from behind her. "How lovely of you to serve your dear aunt from your king's chalice. What an honor."

Joffrey was glaring down at Cass. "It was not an honor and I was not serving you." He threw the cup down by her head. Cassana didn't move. "You're a traitor bitch. You should be…"

"My king." Cass looked to see Margaery by her husband's side. "There are other singers that beg for your attention. Come with me, please."

"I'm not a traitor, my king." Cass spoke, still tasting the wine. Her emotions raged. Her temper was about to snap in two, but the whole court was staring at her. I am not a traitor in this room. "Nephew, please believe me."

Margaery was tugging him away. Cass would have to thank her later for that. "Dearest, they are getting ready to serve the pie too."

"Well I cannot have pie without wine, can I? You say you're not a traitor, Aunt, then prove it. Show your loyalty and be my cupbearer."

Her hands fumbled for the cup in front of her. "As you wish, my king."

Cass' cheeks were burning with embarrassment and anger. She stood from the wet floor, her golden dress ruined, and set the cup down on the edge of the table. Joffrey and Maergery were settling themselves in front of the enormous pie suddenly brought in under Lord Tywin's command.

"Gods." Jaime grabbed a napkin and wiped her forehead, face pale. "You don't have to do this. He's drunk and stupid. Give me the damn cup."

"I need to prove my loyalty, don't I?"

"No, you don't. You don't have to prove a fucking thing to him." He went to wipe her hair. "Take the netting off."

She did, holding the silver net delicately between her two hands. She leaned in towards Jaime. "Ugly thing, isn't it?"

"The stones are strange."

"Pearls, I think. Though they are strangely purple. The Queen of Thorns must have gotten it somewhere exotic."

"Who?" Jaime picked off one of the gems. "Who gave this to you?"

"Where is she! Where's the Young Wolf's bitch!" Joffrey was calling for her. Cassana placed the hairnet on the table and picked up the glass where she had left it, gritting her teeth.

She poured the wine and curtsied. It was hard to look Joff in the eye, but Cass managed to. She wished she spat in his cup. "You truly honor me, King Joffrey. It is not anyone you would give this attention to."

"You can leave my son now, Lady Cassana." Cersei looked beside herself. She lounged confidently on the seat beside the king and twirled a blond strand in her fingers. "Unless you intend to be the cupbearer for all of us."

Cass bit her tongue as she walked away from the dais and back to Jaime. She hated these people, all of them. She stunk of wine and sweat and over-glazed peaches. The Rains of Castamere must have played six or seven times already, and she couldn't think of a clear excuse to leave. Maybe now I can go change my clothes. I can slip away from the Maiden Tower and down to the cells. She was about to do just that until she heard Joffrey coughing.

It was soft at first, and then became hard and hollow. The air seemed to be sucked out of the young boy's throat until all she could hear was a thick gurgle.

"He's choking!" Margaery screamed.

"Dolts, help your king!"

What's happening? Cass saw Joffrey grab at his throat, his face turning red then blue then purple. He hit himself, pounded, but still all that escaped his mouth was a low, sickly murmur. The High Septon started praying, and Mace Tyrell turned the boy around, slamming at his back.

Gods, he's…he's dying.

The king was scratching at his own skin, peeling it in thin and then bloody layers. Men were jumping from their seats and running towards him. Cersei screamed and cried for him and then for Jaime. Her voice screeched for the knight, but Jaime stood frozen by Cass. The color was gone from his face and his eyes were dark and dull. "What did you do?"

That was when she decided to run. All the other guests were scattering and yelling as well, but Cass managed to grab Sansa's wrist and weave through the crowd. Her heart pounded against the echos of her heels, and all she could hear in her head were shouts and drums. The Stranger…the Stranger was right. "Go to your knight!" She yelled through the chaos. "Go to him, get your mother, and get out."

"Cassana, I don't understand." Sansa panted. "What happened?"

He's dead. Joffrey is dead. "Just leave! Sansa, go!"

What's going on? What just happened? She waited until she saw the young girl sprint before heading to the Black Cells. They were three levels down, but Cass had been there before. She knew the way still.

Cass halted and caught her breath before reaching the doors to the dungeon. There was already a guard there, but he was slumped and bloody, a dagger in his back. Someone was already here. Soon, the door to the dungeon was opening and a small man was leading a woman back out. Cass recognized the man and shrunk back against the wall. Littlefinger? What is he doing? But she saw the red hair of Catelyn Tully and exhaled. Maybe Ned was right to trust him? Cass didn't have time to think about that. She sprinted towards the door and down the steps into the dark. There were no more guards by the prisoners. They are running to Joffrey's corpse. They are running to try and save him but they are too late. The thought only made her happy.

As she ran down and down, the backs of her heels scraping into her feet, Cass looked closely at the door leading to the Black Cells. There was a key rack by its side, and she grabbed all of the rings before shouting. "Robb!" Cass halted when she heard her own voice—raspy and desperate. "Robb!"

There was yelling from multiple cells to meet her, but Cass ignored the unfamiliar voices. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, but the stench made her stomach turn, a weird mix of human waste and molded walls. A mouse ran in front of her feet, and the girl jumped back before shouting again, "Robb Stark, answer me now or by the Seven, I will leave you down here!"

The unwanted shouts subsided, and soon, Cass could only hear a loud thump against one of the doors and then a low, "Here."

She fumbled to reach the cell and jostled the keys. This will take too long."I don't know which one." She panicked. "I don't know which key." Her fingers kept jostling between the metals, and the other prisoners kept shouting around her, crying out their innocence or brutal threats.

Robb didn't say anything in reply, and Cass paled. She fitted more and more keys into the lock, only to come up with more and more dead ends. She tried to listen closely to the levels above. They won't be coming here unless they find what killed Joffrey. Jaime's words rattled her. They can't think I killed him. The stupid prick choked on his own vile words. They won't be looking for me.

Finally, one of the old keys turned. Cassana flung the door open and sprinted to the body slumped in a corner. Robb was on the ground, back against the wall, his once high chin flaccid and his cheeks so, so pale.

"Robb." She barely recognized him, but his face became alert as soon as he heard his name. His dark red beard covered his face messily. His eyes were long and tired, not the vibrant blue-green they once were. "It's okay." Cass knelt down and cradled his cheek. "Can you stand?"

"Yes." He did with ease, but the shackles on his wrists and ankles stopped him from going completely upright. His cotton rags were flimsy at best and covered with filth. Robb looked behind her. "Cassana, you're alone?"

"Yes." She moved to his chains, bringing the key ring.

"I guess the rescue story can wait?"

"I actually have to rescue you first." Cass frowned. "There are too many damn keys."

"My mother…"

"Littlefinger took her." Cassana kept maneuvering the locks.

"Littlefinger?" The idea didn't seem to sit well with Robb, but he pushed the thought away. "Can I help?"

"Just stay still." Her own hands were shaking. She could hear footsteps getting louder and faster. "Fuck."

"Cassana, calm down."

"I'm trying. I… I think I may be in trouble."

Robb breathed deeply. "You shouldn't have helped me. You're putting your own life at risk."

No. I had to help you. "I don't think it was ever safe."

Someone was yelling in the Black Cells, and Cass recognized the voice though she couldn't put a name to it. She handed Robb the keys. "Keep trying."

Cass walked to the front of the cell and waited for the man to come. She expected some gold cloak—she could take on a gold cloak—but the man running to the cell was draped in white. Cass edged back. "…Ser Osmund?"

At least she thought it was Ser Osmund. Cass did not know one Kettleblack from the other, nor did she ever have a reason to until now. The man was six feet and all muscle. His armor was thick and metal and the longsword swung lightly at his side. Cass paled, hands sweating. Be smart.

His dark eyes widened when he recognized her face. "Traitor! The Queen was right."

Cass looked behind to see Robb fumbling with the keys. "I suppose she was about this."

The knight gave the girl a light push to the side to try and intercept Robb Stark. Cass stumbled backwards and stared at Ser Osmund's back. Smart, Cass. Be smart. The huge man was reaching towards the keys when Cass mounted his back, digging her legs into the creases between his arms and sliding her forearm under his neck. This is no Walder Frey. Hold on. Her grip tightened into a four-finger lock. She kept grapevining her thighs, pushing into the harsh metal of his armor. Her gold dress was far too big, and as Osmund started moving and struggling, Cass almost stumbled off and on to the stone floor. "Robb! Robb, hurry!"

The poor boy was. He struggled with the keys until his wrists were free. Osmund Kettleblack kept bucking underneath her. The breath caught in his throat, and Cass pressed harder as he tried to slam her back against the wall. Cass twisted his neck, not breaking it, but making Osmund lose balance and steer away from the dark brick.

Robb was mobile now. He grabbed the edge of Osmund's leather belt and removed it, clipping on the metal sword. "Cass, get off of him! What are you doing?!"

"Shhh!"

Osmund was making enough noise. Robb had to stop yelling. His hands were hitting Cass' back but she didn't flinch. She would be bruised tomorrow from it, but her grip did not loosen. Pain now. Ignore it. Pain is better than death. He'll kill you and Robb if you let go. "This is taking too long," Cass panted. The Freys by the river came back to her. "You have to kill him."

"Kill him?"

"Robb, please!" Cass shrieked as Osmund grabbed at her hair and started pulling. Tears were swelling from the pain, but she continued to press the bone into his throat. "We don't have…" Osmund's body started to slump. Cass held on to her grip, her own chest pounding as Osmund Kettleblack collapsed to the ground. She dropped her hold, and his body fell, armor clanging against the stone. The man was at least double her size, but she was able to get him down. Cass tried to listen for his heartbeat. It was there—though barely. "He's passed out."

Robb stared at her, mouth open. "I feel there's a lot I don't know about you."

"I can teach you later. Let's go. Can you run?"

"Yes."

Good. It seemed that Osmund and Cersei had expected her to be in the Black Cells, and it was safe to think they weren't the only ones. Cass wanted to throw off her heels as she started to sprint, but the dirty, jagged surface would do her feet no good. She was tired and achy from wrestling Osmund, and stunned that she managed to put him down. I will have to thank Jaime for that. The thought immediately dampened her mind. She would never see Jaime again after this.

They climbed up the stairs until they reached the door out of the dungeon. Cass moved to open it, but Robb touched her hand. "Stop. I hear people. They're…screaming?"

"I'll explain that later too."

"Cassana, what's happening?"

"A big enough distraction to free you."

Lady Olenna better not have lied to her. She sprinted towards the docks, realizing the holes she had choosen to ignore. Robb was slowing down as they ran through the halls, and Cass dragged him into an unlocked servant's room. The room was small and dark. There was one lit candle on the bedside table, and Cass moved to the door, locking them inside. "There's a window." She huffed and ran her hands through her hair. She had to get out of this dress.

Robb was already pulling the drawers open. "Man's clothes. They're big, but…"

"Change and give some to me. Boots too. I can tie them tightly." She could not be seen like this, nor could she hope for her feet's survival in these heels. "Your beard makes you almost unrecognizable."

"You look the same." Robb tossed her a white shirt and cotton trousers. There was only a cheap leather belt in the room, but Cass took that too.

She took off the dress immediately, not caring that Robb was there, and put on her new clothes. While she waited for him to dress, Cass opened the window and looked down. "It's not by the bay." Good. Cass could see the ground. The fall would hurt, but it was plausible. They just needed to get out of the keep. "Are you done?"

"Almost."

"Hurry, Robb, we don't have a lot of time."

He glared at her and finished pulling up the new pants. "Wait, let me…"

She didn't wait. Cass hopped over the window and rolled on her side as she fell to the ground. The impact was hard and muddy. Her left shoulder throbbed when she broke her fall. But she quickly sat up and watched for Robb to do the same.

I can trust her and head to the docks. Or Robb and I can get lost in the city. She had no money for that though, or any idea of how to escape from there. They will close up the gates by the time you even reach one.

No, she had to trust the Queen of Thorns. Cass led Robb around the castle and towards the docks. The night was hot and warm, and Cass thought she still smelled of wine. I can't believe he's dead. He must be dead. Cersei was screaming so much. Her mind tried to piece together what happened. He was choking, wasn't he? But on wine and so quickly…what if they think he was poisoned? What would they think poisoned him?

The docks and ships were in view. Cass tugged Robb further and further, but the Young Wolf's body was so weak. He nearly stopped, but Cass urged him on. "A ship is taking us North, Robb."

He looked to the shore. "Which one?"

I don't know. There were big vessels and small vessels, but she did not know which one to bring him to. Cass hurried closer, relieved when she saw a familiar white cloak. "Ser Loras!" His grandmother must have told him.

Robb was hesitant to approach, but Cass greated the knight warmly. "Thank the Seven, you're here. Lady Olenna must have told you to meet us."

Ser Loras' eyes looked behind her to Robb. "She did."

The Gods may be merciful after all. She felt like crying. She almost did, but the stress was too much. She had time to cry on the ship, not now."Which boat is ours?"

He pointed to the small boat behind him. "There. The crew is already paid for and boarded, Lady Cassana."

"Thank you, Loras. Renly was lucky to have you by his side. We will see each other again."

Loras merely nodded and turned back to the keep.

She let Robb go on the ship first and then followed him on, watching her footing. The night was dark—the ships and water looking like shadows in the black haze. She could barely see Robb ahead of her and then there was another figure in the shadows. He approached Robb Stark slowly and carefully, a sense of caution in his step. Robb held out a hand to greet the man, but Cass saw a sword reach towards the Young Wolf instead.

What?! "Robb! Ru-"

She heard more than felt the metal hit her head, and her vision turned completely black.

A/N:

Sorry for the cliche cliffhanger. Sorry, sorry. I know it's horrendous.