Chapter 3

Ana dozed lightly, her head propped on her arm on the open window of the carriage. They'd been traveling for days now, and it had grown colder with each passing day. At first, Ana had just been so very excited, watching everything with a rabid fascination. But after a few days, she was just tired.

She wished for a real bed to sleep in. Ana had never realized how very pampered she was until now. The first night, sleeping on the ground (albeit, with many blankets and pillows) had seemed like an exotic adventure. But the next night, Ana was reluctant to return to it. Sharing a tent with her younger sister Myrcella turned out to be a comfort. Ana only managed to sleep with Myrcella's warm little body next to hers.

Now Ana was just eager to arrive in Winterfell, if not for Robb and the other Starks, for the beds and warm halls. Well, warmer, she supposed. Her father said that they were close to Winterfell now; or he'd said that this morning. He estimated that they would arrive in the early afternoon; and it was half-day now.

While Ana was mainly tired, she was also becoming impatient. She'd been shifting relentlessly for at least the past hour. And her mother, of course, had looked increasingly and increasingly annoyed. "Mother, can I ride outside for a little while?" Ana requested hopefully. She would just about give anything to get out of the cramped space she inhabited now with her mother and three siblings.

"Of course not," Cersei snapped sourly, lips pursing at the very idea. "Do you really wish to meet your betrothed sweaty and saddle sore?" she suggested.

'It'd be better than being here,' Ana thought, glancing back outside. Her uncle Jaime rode next to the carriage – he was in charge of the small group of soldiers guarding the Royal family. "Uncle Jaime!" Ana called, earning the Knight's attention. "Will you ask my father if I could ride beside him for the last leg of the journey?" she requested.

"Of course, niece," Jaime answered. He traded stern words with a soldier before he rode off towards the front of the caravan.

"Cassana!" Cersei screeched. "You know that I hate it when you go around me! Just because your father refuses you nothing does not mean you should disrespect me so-"

"Mother!" Ana moaned, interrupting Cersei's tirade. "We are nearly to Winterfell, and I wish to see every inch of it as we ride in – beside my father," she informed her mother, crossing her arms over her chest as if to say she did not intend to change her mind.

"And do you not need me beside you in this moment you describe?" Cersei questioned as if the thought wounded you.

"Of course she doesn't, Mother. You know she likes Father better," Joffrey interjected nastily, a cruel little smirk adorning his pinched features.

"Oh shut up, Joff!" Ana snapped in irritation. "No one asked you!"

"Do not speak to your brother that way, Ana!" Cersei spoke up, expression twisting between annoyance and hurt.

Ana took a deep breath and turned towards her mother. "Mother, of course I need you. Maybe not for this moment, but others, surely. Do you think I'll want father's guidance or advice the night before I wed? It is you I'll need then," she said, trying to appeal to her mother's deeply buried emotions.

Cersei finally managed a half-smile. "And I'll be there, of course, Cassana," she said weakly.

The rocking motion of the carriage began to slow, before coming to a complete stop. Jaime appeared at the carriage door, opening it and gesturing for Ana to get up. "Hurry now, niece. We don't want to hold the caravan up for too long," he instructed.

Ana stood instantly and stepped down from the carriage, hand in her uncle's for stability. He guided her away from the carriage and from the caravan's span, allowing it to start up again. Jaime helped her mount her horse – an old grey mare she had named Orella when she was just a child, after her Septa.

Once Jaime had mounted his own horse, he began to guide her up the caravan's line, towards Ana's father. "Uncle Jaime?" Ana called.

"Yes, Cassana?" he answered distractedly, focusing his attention on those who scurried around them.

"Do you think I'll be able to keep Orella in Winterfell with me?" Ana asked.

Jaime glanced back at his niece and the weathering mare she rode on. "I'm afraid not, niece. Orella is old, and not meant for the coldness of the North. She will have to return south with us," he said regretfully.

"Ah," Ana murmured sadly. Orella was five years older than Ana was – twenty one and quite elderly – Ana rarely rode and matched up with Orella's easy temperament. Before Ana had claimed her, Orella had only been used for breeding purposes, but Ana had taken a shine to the mare.

"I will make sure she is well taken care of. Personally," Jaime promised, sensing his niece's melancholy.

Ana managed to muster a smile for her well-meaning uncle. "Thank you," she said.

"Now, come on! Let's get to your father before we are at the gates of Winterfell!" Jaime teased her, coaxing both Ana and his own steed in order to move a little more quickly.

xxOITFxx

The caravan bearing Robb's future bride had been spotted and was mere minutes away from entering the gates of Winterfell. Robb had never been so nervous in his life. The relentless teasing from Theon or his brother Jon had not helped the matter either.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Robb said lowly to his father, anxiety clear in his voice.

Eddard Stark looked to his eldest in amusement. "It's a little too late for that, Robb. I imagine the Royal family might be quite upset if they learn they've journeyed up to the North for nothing," he teased.

Robb's cheeks glowed red. "O-of course. I mean, I hardly know the princess, that's all," he suggested.

"You know her better than I knew your mother," Eddard offered, glancing to his wife Catelyn beside him. The corners of her mouth quirked up, clearly aware of the quiet conversation going on beside her, though she never once looked away from the approaching caravan.

"She was just a child then!" Robb spluttered.

Ned leaned marginally towards his son. "And a sweet one she was. Her father says she still is, but we both know he'd never say anything else," he said quietly. Robb's dark eyes flashed to his father, filling with amusement. "Do not worry, Robb. There is a week still until the wedding. You will have plenty of time to get to know your bride to be. Besides, I don't think you'll have any problems," Ned began. "The princess professed to be in love with you the last time you met," he teased.

Robb's cheeks reddened again and he turned away from his father, fixing his eyes on the caravan.

It was only a few more minutes before the figures at the head of the caravan were clearly defined. The first figure – robust and hairy, must have been the King Robert, especially with the crown on his head.

Next to the king, however, was a lovely young girl with dark hair in a golden yellow dress. She laughed with her father as they rode side by side. Robb scarcely recognized her as the Princess Cassana, the little girl who had chased him about King's Landing. It was the image that Robb had in his mind ever since his father had broached the topic of his betrothal.

And at this very moment, that image was irrevocably shattered. The Princess Cassana wasn't a little girl anymore, she was a woman. A very fetching young woman, it seemed. Robb was transfixed, jaw dropped open. Ned reached over, tapping his son's chin. Snapping out of his reverie, Robb only flushed a deeper red.

The caravan led by the king and his daughter finally halted half a dozen yards from where the Stark family stood. A knight wearing silver engraved with flowers helped Cassana dismount her horse. "To me, poppet!" the king called, holding his arm out to his daughter.

After patting the knight who'd helped her on the shoulder as thanks, Cassana crossed over to her father. She took his arm and allowed her father to lead her towards the Starks. "Ned!" Robert all but shouted, free arm outstretched towards his friend.

"Robert," Ned greeted in return, emerging from the line of his family to embrace the king. The king dropped his daughter's arm in order to return his old friend's squeeze. After a long few moments of jostling and laughing, Ned and Robert separated.

Robert threw his arm around Cassana's shoulders, drawing her close again. "Ned, this is my Cassana. Poppet, you remember Lord Eddard Stark, your future father-in-law," he introduced.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Lord Eddard," Cassana greeted, curtsying to the other man, offering a beaming grin.

Ned took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "Your highness, welcome to Winterfell," he said, bestowing a rare smile on the princess. "Allow me to re-introduce you to my family," Ned continued, gesturing back to the long line of Starks and offering his arm to her.

Cassana looked to her father. He nodded, and she took Ned's arm. "I believe I do remember everyone, but please do," she said politely.

"This is my wife, Catelyn," Ned said, laying an affectionate hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Your highness, a pleasure to see you again," Catelyn greeted, curtsying politely.

Cassana returned with a curtsy of her own. "Likewise, Lady Stark. I look forward to joining your family," she remarked with a shy smile.

The older woman smiled at her sweet words. "As am I." Catelyn responded.

"And this is our eldest son, Robb. Your betrothed," Ned introduced next.

Cassana held out her hand to him, offering a smile. "I am pleased to see you again, Robb," she greeted. He was pleasant-looking enough, she concluded. He had been softer-looking four years ago, but time and nature had filled him out - Robb was all hard lines and angles now.

After a moment of staring, her betrothed finally bowed and took her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure is mine, your highness," Robb said smoothly, rising back to his full stature.

Cassana grinned at him. "There's no need for that. I would prefer you call me Ana," she requested.

Robb couldn't help but return her smile. "If that is what you wish," he promised.

"It is," the princess said sternly. The tone of her voice was immediately betrayed by the joviality of her expression. Robb's smile widened.

Ned laid his hand over Ana's for a moment, then led her to the next member of his family. The smile on his lips had widened just a bit, signaling he approved of their interaction. Ana would have liked to talk with Robb more, but she also knew Northerners were notorious for not liking public displays. "My eldest daughter, Sansa,"

"I'm happy to see you again, Sansa," Ana greeted as the younger girl seemed to nearly vibrate with excitement.

"And you, your highness," the redhead managed to say diplomatically. The tone and expression of her eyes all told the princess how excited she was to have Ana join their family.

And so Ana's re-introductions went on. It wasn't until she was trading words with little Rickon Stark that Ana's mother did what she always did. Embarrass Ana and make her wish to crawl into a hole and die.

"My children are tired from the journey. Will no-one show us to our chambers?" Cersei Lannister voiced suddenly. Ana turned back and glared at her mother. Just because she was Queen, Cersei thought she could be rude to everyone. Ana hated that.

"Of course, your majesty, I apologize," Catelyn Stark immediately responded, picking up her skirts and gesturing to the servants behind her. "Please follow me,"

Cersei and her three younger children followed Lady Stark, as well as a fleet of their own servants. Ana moved to follow, but her betrothed distracted her by calling her name.

"Ana!" Robb called. She turned towards him, waiting expectantly. "I would like to talk to you more today, before the feast. Could we take a walk together?" he asked.

"Cassana! Come!" Cersei called from a doorway. Her expression was less than pleased.

"I would like that," Ana told Robb, earning a smile from him. "You could show me around Winterfell. In an hour, perhaps?" She suggested, lifting her skirts to hurry after her mother.

"I will be there!" Robb called after her. She glanced back and shot a dazzling smile towards him.

"Show me to the crypt," Robert Baratheon ordered Ned. "And bring your boy, too,"

Ned nodded. "Robb," he called. His son was still staring off in the direction his betrothed had gone. When he realized he'd been caught, Robb flushed red, looking quite embarrassed in the face of both Ned and Robert's bemused expressions. "Come," Ned beckoned to his son.

Robb nodded hastily and jogged over, where the king clapped him on the back. Robb lurched a half step forward, wincing from the hearty clap. "My Ana is quite the beauty, is she not?" Robert asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Robb, who had been perpetually red that day, flushed yet again. "Yes, your majesty," he responded carefully.

"I was quite amazed, actually," Ned remarked. Robb looked sharply at his father, shocked by the teasing tone to his voice. "With an ugly mug like you as a father," Ned continued, reaching out and clapping his old friend on the shoulder.

Robert grinned and rolled his eyes. "Let me pay my respects to Lyanna, Ned, and then I'd like to have words with your boy," the king commented, starting down the stairs to the crypt.

Robb looked to his father with wide, frightened eyes; and Ned flashed a reassuring smile back at him. "Don't worry, son. Robert is gifting you with his daughter, he merely wishes to impress the importance of that on you," Ned told his son lowly, before following the king down the steps to the crypt. Robb took a deep breath before following.

Author's Note: Please review!

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