Disclaimer: ASOIAF, GoT, whatevs, is not mine. I am borrowing the characters and their world.

Summary:

AU. First Part of a Trilogy, telling the story of Cadenzsa Forel, Syrio Forel's only child.

Cadenzsa's mother has decided it is time for her child to marry. Since no man in Braavos would dare touch her for fear of her father's sword - and Cadenzsa's, of course - the clever Syrio has relocated to Westeros in hopes of finding a man deeming worthy of his precious only daughter.

He has gone to King's Landing to find a Lord, or a Prince, or a Knight that will give Cadenzsa the life of adventure that she deserves. Cadenzsa, the clever girl, has decided to sail first to the North, and travel down through Westeros, in order to see the land for herself, and to learn of its people. She finds herself, though, soon stuck in the Hold of Winterfell, prey to the charms of the three young men that live there.

Theon

Theon was not a religious man. He barely prayed anymore, because the old gods were everywhere, but he was not near the sea. Some days, he felt so dry from the lack of salt and spray in the air. He often felt very far from his home in the Iron Islands, which was, perhaps, the reason he was so good at archery. When he held his bow in his hand and drew back the quiver to fire, he felt - for the briefest of moments - that he was connected to his home again.

He loved archery; he loved everything about it. The tension, the rising anticipation, the slowing of time as that one perfect shot came into view, and that oh-so-satisfying release and thump as your arrow hit the target. If you thought about it, it was a lot like lovemaking - for both took a great deal of skill and effort to do it very well. Theon knew he was good at lovemaking, too. The thought had crossed his mind that Ros had faked it many times, but the other girls that he'd fucked couldn't fake it, and Theon knew the difference when a woman was faking climaxing or not. He knew when it was real.

It's not a pretty thing, in truth, when a woman comes for real. She loses all control, from her head to her toes, and she wants to convulse violently, but her body arches and stays where it is for fear of changing how good it all feels. It's like getting washed over by a tidal wave, or perhaps an earthquake in your cunt. He didn't know, though, because he didn't have a cunt. But that's the way it looked. It wasn't pretty, but once you saw it, you knew you wanted it over and over and over again.

Theon took in a deep breath as he drew this next arrow; the tension felt good against his strong shoulders and arms. Thump went the arrow as it sailed into the target's heart. He liked the whistling sound an arrow made when it flew through the air like that; you knew you'd pulled the quiver back far enough if it makes that whistling sound. You knew you did it right, too, when you heard the impact. It was like a thousand tiny punches all at once. Theon drew another arrow.

"Lord Theon Greyjoy," came a voice from behind him. He turned over his shoulder and relaxed the arrow to see the foreign Lady standing there, leaning gently on one leg to keep weight off of her injured one. That color blue she was wearing reminded him of the sea after a storm.

"M'Lady," he said.

"Good day, my noble Champion." She all but laughed. "You can just call me Cadenzsa, if you like," she said.

He smirked. "Cadenzsa," he tried. "It's different."

"Theon's different, too." She said his name with a more 'd' sound or a hard 't' sound than a 'th' sound at the beginning. Probably her accent. Theon wasn't sure if he liked it or not. "I never got the chance to properly thank you for saving our lives the other day." Theon laughed and bowed.

"It was my pleasure, Cadenzsa."

She pointed at the target. "You're very good at that, you know," she said.

"All Greyjoys are expert archers," he said with a smile, drawing another arrow and shooting it at the heart of the target again, as if to prove his point. Cadenzsa applauded. Theon, when he looked, saw the many freckles on her cheeks; he didn't know that Braavosi had freckles. "Are Forels expert swordsmen?" he asked.

Cadenzsa shrugged. "I haven't met a Forel that is not an expert...swordsman? We call them Dancing Masters, where I come from. I think it sounds nicer."

"Dancing Master" laughed Theon.

"Of course!" said Cadenzsa, gesturing greatly with her long-fingered hands. "What is a sword-fight but a dance between the swords and wielders? What is a battle but a dance between fighters? What is a conversation but a dance between words and lips and tongues? I like to know about every kind of dance there is."

Theon smirked with a nod. "I see your point. Must admit, though, never seen a woman do what you did." He loosed another arrow to impress her, which she was.

"Really?" Cadenzsa seemed genuinely happy and amused at this. "I think that's strange... So many strange things in Westeros."

"So it's your first time in Westeros, I take it?"

"It is." Another arrow met its target with a thump. "I've never seen so many trees in all my life."

Theon laughed. "They don't have trees where you come from?"

"Not really, no," she said. "But there is a great island near our lagoon in Braavos that has hundreds and hundreds of pine trees which act as windbreakers from the sea. It's illegal to cut them down. We get our firewood in from other lands."

"So you're a sea-faring people," said Theon as he drew another arrow.

"We are," said Cadenzsa, growing more and more impressed with each thump that Theon caused. He knew, because the admiration was easy to hear in her voice.

"We are, too, where I come from."

Cadenzsa nodded and gestured with her hand, as if she was saying 'aha'. "See? I knew you couldn't possibly be from around here. Where are you from?"

Theon looked over her shoulder with a grin. "That obvious, eh?" She nodded. "The Iron Islands," he said proudly.

She looked up for a moment, as if glancing at an internal map. "'The Iron Islands...'" She thought for a moment. "They're not very far away?"

"Far enough," he said. "On the other side of the continent from you. It's a cold and miserably dreary place, in truth, but hard places raise hard men. And hard men rule the world. My father told me that, once."

"Just so," she said as he loosed another arrow, the grouping with the thumps growing more and more close together. "So your father is back on the Iron Islands?" she asked. Theon nodded. "I hope you will not be offended at my asking, but why are you here if your father is there?"

An uncomfortable subject, but Theon answered honestly "I'm a Ward for the Starks."

"What is word meaning?" Cadenzsa asked. Silly foreign girl.

"A Ward is like a guard. I follow Lord Stark's orders, protect him and his family, do what needs to be done..."

"You mean like a Knight?"

Theon almost rolled his eyes. "No, not a knight. A Ward."

"So..." she furrowed her brow. "You're a servant?" she asked. "But why do we call you Lord if you are a servant?"

"I'm not a servant, I'm a Ward," said Theon. "And I'm called Lord because my father is Lord Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands, and I'll be Lord after him."

Cadenzsa frowned as if she didn't understand. "Like how Robb Stark will be Lord Stark once his father dies?"

"Something like that," he said, drawing another arrow. He noticed how deep and dark and brown her eyes were. Thump.

"But if you are Robb Stark's equal, then why do you serve for his father as if you are not?" She said her 'r's like a cat purring. It rolled and flourished like a drum.

Theon inwardly cringed, but he had his bow and that was all he needed to be calm. So he told her, as calmly as he knew how. "My father was the King of the Iron Islands. Ten years ago, led a rebellion against Robert Baratheon, the King. We were outnumbered ten-to-one. My two older brothers were killed in the rebellion, and I was taken from the Iron Islands to be a Ward for the Starks, ensuring my father's good behavior. The only one left of us with my father is my sister, Asha."

"You mean you're trapped here? You're a hostage?"

Theon immediately regretted telling Cadenzsa the truth, for she looked pale and about to be sick. He dropped his bow and took her hand to lean against the table where Bran and Maester Luwin had their lessons. She held her hand to her breast, which was now heaving and shaking as if she were about to cry.

"My Lady, please-"

She gripped his wrist. "-Cadenzsa, please-"

"-If I have upset you then I apologize-"

"-Stop it," ordered Cadenzsa. "You're a hostage here? You're the son of a King! I knew there was something different about you... I should be bowing to you and addressing you as Your Grace."

Theon immediately felt a rush of fear that someone had heard them. "Do not call me Your Grace," he answered automatically.

"Why?" she asked. "You were born a Prince and you will always be one, like you were born a man and will always be one. Just like I was born a woman and will always be one."

"It's more complicated than that," said Theon, almost sadly, standing up straight.

She looked away and shook her head. "Why do I always see you smiling, then, if you know you're a hostage here?"

"It's not so bad," shrugged Theon. "I get three meals a day, wages, my own warm room... I'm not a Stark, but everyone here has been good to me."

She frowned. "You've been here ten years?" Theon nodded; she sighed. "You are very brave. It's only been a week away from the sea for me and I already feel like I'm drying out." She looked around. "This place is so beautiful, but I couldn't imagine being here for ten years."

He smirked sadly; he knew the feeling she was talking about. She was perhaps feeling rather trapped, too, for her leg wasn't well. She looked taut, firm; she looked like she was constantly moving all the time and was growing restless. He knew the feeling of wanting to run and jump but you couldn't. He wouldn't talk about it, though, for the subject seemed to upset her.

"It's especially beautiful now," said Theon, deciding to change the subject. "The long summer is good up here. Winters are murderous. But it wasn't anything that bad. The Starks prepare for winter very well here."

"What's winter like here?"

"I don't think you want to know," said Theon with a grin. "you almost fainted at my past."

"Cadenzsa Forel does not faint," she said, now annoyed.

Theon scoffed. "I still don't think you want to know."

"Try me," said Cadenzsa.

Theon sat next to her and leaned his elbows back on the table. "Snow. Lots and lots of snow, and biting winds that feel like thousands of tiny arrows on your face. Snow gets hundreds of feet high in some places, and in some places it's so bad that mothers kill there babies for fear of watching them starve to death. I hear stories from beyond the Wall that up there, when winter is so bad and food is so scarce, they turn to eating their horses. And then each other as each person dies."

Cadenzsa gulped and cringed. "Did you have to do anything like that?"

Theon gave a tiny laugh and shook his head. "No, nothing like that. We were snowed in, mostly, and I went out hunting with Lord Stark and Robb. But game was scarce; no stag, no ducks...we had to fish in the ice sometimes. It wasn't so bad. But the long summer is coming to an end, it seems, and that means an equally long winter. Good thing your leg will be better before that happens, so you can go back home."

The Braavosi lady shrugged with a shy smile. "Oh, who knows if I'm even ever going back home?" she said.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Theon.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped herself. "Oh, what is word...?" she said, gesturing with her hands as she went through the list of all the Commontongue words she knew. "It's like, ah... You know, the riddle..."

"Riddle?"

"Yes, the riddle. You know, if you've got it, you want to share. But if you share, you haven't got it? The word... It's like the riddle."

Theon thought for a moment. "If you've got it you want to share it..."

"But if you share it you haven't got it? It's the riddle. The word is the riddle. Or at least its answer. I can never remember."

A few beats. "A secret?" Theon asked.

"Secret! That's it! It's a secret!" Cadenzsa sighed. "Well, I mean, can you keep a secret?"

Theon smirked. "For my Lady, of course I can."

She sighed. "I'm getting married."

He wasn't exactly sure why, but a thumping pang in his stomach was suddenly apparent. "Oh. To whom?"

Cadenzsa shrugged. "I don't know, yet. I just know that it's the reason we're in Westeros."

"What, to find you a husband?" Theon couldn't help but laugh. "No one will marry you in Braavos?"

She shook her head with a toothy smile. "I don't think that's the problem. I think that the problem is everyone is afraid to. Or my father thinks that nobody is good enough. It's a complicated situation. But my mother insists that if I must marry, it must be to someone with a title and wealth and a warm castle to keep me safe in."

"I see," said Theon, standing and walking to the arrows. "Well, since we are sharing secrets, Cadenzsa, may I offer one?"

"Please do," she said as he drew another arrow.

"I don't think you're the type to marry someone like that." Thump went another arrow in the target's heart.

"I don't think so either," said Cadenzsa. "But we live in a strange world where women are treated as such. We are nothing without a husband. The only jobs we can get are whores or barmaids or kitchen wenches."

Theon smiled. "So your father, a Braavosi Dancing Master, best in the city or what-have-you, has decided to marry off his precious girl to some rich lord in Westeros, who probably has a fat belly and a little prick and has nowhere near the sword-arm that you have."

Cadenzsa gave a full laugh. "God, I hope not," she said. "I think my father will find someone he feels worthy of me here. I just hope that he happens to find it near the sea. I can't live without it. I know that now."

"And there's nobody at all in Essos for you to marry? What about Pentos or Volantis?"

She shrugged. "My mother insisted on Westeros." There was a pause before she spoke, which meant she was hiding something. Theon had already given her a few japes and jabs, so he decided not to push the matter further. If she wanted to go along with that kind of plan, it was on her. But she should be so lucky that a woman like that had that kind of option. Though the Westerosi people seemed to be highly nationalistic in many respects, especially when it came to their Lordlings. Poor foreigner would probably be sent back home with her tail between her legs and no husband to speak of. Or maybe she's find some Tourney knight. A knight would maybe be the best she could hope for...but then again, those men were not the type to be thought that they could be challenged by a woman.

Theon loosed a few more arrows as she watched in awe. He didn't mind her company; she seemed to like his. If it were up to him, though, they wouldn't be talking. She'd be laying on the flat of her back in his bed with her gown up around her hips. He'd never seen a woman so exotic and slender and firm as that before. She knew she was beautiful, too, for the way she just happened to be 'adjusting' her gown when he glanced over her shoulder. He could see the curve of her breast peaking over the blue of her gown. When she caught him looking, though, she returned his smirk.

"So when did you learn to do that?"

"What, looking?'

She laughed. "No, shoot an arrow!"

"Oh," Theon laughed. "I don't know. I've just done it since before I can remember. It's not hard to do. Just takes practice."

"You make it look so easy," she said.

"It is easy. You just have to feel it. I'm sure you'd be good at it if you set your mind to it." He wasn't sure if he was inwardly cringing because he meant what he was saying or he wasn't very much liking the thought of a woman being that good at anything.

Cadenzsa shook her head. "I don't know. I've never done it before."

"Truly?" asked Theon, now confused.

"Truly."

"Your father put that sword in your slender little hand but not once a bow and arrow?" She shook her head. "I could find Ser Rodrik for you and he could teach you how. He's our Master-at-Arms here in Winterfell."

"Did he teach you?"

Theon shrugged. "He taught me how to swing a sword, hold a shield..."

"Those things I know how to do. I would rather learn from you."

He grinned. "You want me to teach you?" A wicked plan grew in his mind.

Her face lit up. "If you wouldn't mind," she said a little too flirtatiously.

You sneaky little foreigner, thought Theon. "Alright. Come here and I'll show you. Come stand where I'm standing." She limped towards him; her face didn't show any pain, but Theon wondered if she'd be able to stand the right way if her leg was out of service temporarily. "You think you'll be alright?"

"A Water Dancer can stand on one toe for hours at a time."

"But a bowman needs a good balance to shoot arrows," said Theon.

She came and stood where he had been standing. He turned her so that her back was to him. He then noticed how long her hair was - all the way down to the bottoms of her thighs in a very long braid. She mustn't have ever cut her hair since she was a child, he thought. He began to wonder how she could be a warrior-woman with such long hair - wouldn't a clever enemy just pull her hair? Maybe she was the sort of woman that liked that kind of pain?

"Here," he said. "Take my bow." Her hands weren't little delicate things like many Ladies' hands; her hands had scars on them, and were dark like the rest of her skin. Her fingers were long and her nails were very clean. As he leaned closer, he noticed the perfumed oils she must have used in her hair. He quietly inhaled.

"It's a flower called jasmine," she said quietly with a knowing grin as she took his bow in her hand. Luckily she was wearing long sleeves, but Theon put his leather bracer on her wrist anyway to keep her from hurting herself or tearing her pretty gown. Her arms felt like stone underneath the fine silk.

"This is a finger-guard," he said, placing the leather square in her right hand. "Use this to keep your fingers safe. Now draw the bowstring back as far as you can. We'll do it without an arrow first, just to see your form."

She gripped the bowstring and pulled. She gasped a little for she didn't realize just how tight the quiver was, but when she put her back into it she drew the bowstring back decently far. Her arms, though, were shaking, and she couldn't keep her bow arm straight.

"Use the muscles in your back and chest, not your arms," he said, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders. She let out a breath and pulled again, this time all the way back. He felt her muscles trembling underneath his palms. "Good, now keep this arm straight, and keep both eyes open, you'll see twice as well." She laughed, which made the bow shake. "No laughing," he said.

"It's hard," she said.

"You're using muscles you're not used to," he said.

"Must be," said Cadenzsa.

"Now let the string go, but keep the bow up." She did, and the bowstring slapped against the bracer. She gasped a little, but it didn't phase her. "Good. Want to try it with the arrow now that you have a feel for it?"

"Alright," she said, taking an arrow.

"Here, point the bow at the ground to nock the arrow safely. Yes, like that," he said, guiding her hands. "Now hold the arrow's end like this and straighten your arm out in one smooth motion." She did, raising it towards the target. "Good. Now as you take a big breath in, pull and stretch." Her arm trembled a bit as she did so. "Now hold it."

She held the bow and arrow, drawn tight. He lowered her elbow when it was too high, and then gently glided his hands along the lines of her slender waist to her hips. "Move your stance like this," he said, whispering just a little too closely in her ear. He gripped her hips as if he were ready to take her from behind. "Keep your balance square."

"Like this?" she said, flirtatiously brushing her arse against the front of his trousers. Theon grinned, surprised.

"Keep your hips square. It's all about balance at first." He placed his hands on her waist and gently traced with his fingers up to her arms. He felt her skin being hot underneath her clothes; she would be a nice bed-warmer, indeed. He lowered her elbow . "Are you ticklish?" he asked quietly.

"A little," she answered.

He glanced at her form - and what a nice form it was. "Good. Now stay like that."

"For how long?" asked Cadenzsa with a slightly exasperated smile.

"Until I say to let go." He circled around to her front. If her leg was bothering her, she didn't show it, for she seemed to be standing well enough. Her arms were very strong, for it isn't a Lady that can shoot a bow an arrow without at least some strength. It was a bit odd to see a woman be so active and athletic. Theon liked it, mostly because one thing he loved was a good hunt. He saw her arrow-arm quivering a touch. "When you feel your arm start to shake like that, take in a breath and pull tighter."

Cadenzsa nodded and did what he said. He circled her slowly, examining her up and down. Her curves, her muscles...he'd never seen a Lady like that before. Or a woman in general. The best part about it was that she seemed to know he was looking at her, and she seemed to be inviting it in, for the way her exciting brown eyes glanced at him.

"The trick is you have to feel it. You have to feel as if you can't pull any further or it'll snap, and then pull just a bit more. No distractions, all focus. When in battle, there is chaos going on around you. For a shot with accuracy and the force of a hundred punches all at once, you need to find that calm within amongst the chaos. The shot is about tension, and release. Just take your time with it. Most loose it too soon, before they feel it coming. Remember, in that moment, you have all the time you need. All the time in the world. And when that arrow finally flies to the target with that thump, it will feel..." He came in close to adjust her arms from behind. "...so satisfying," he whispered into her ear. "There, now pull more. And breathe."

She was a good student, for she did exactly as she was told. He felt the tension in her body; her arms were just as strong as his. Theon wasn't sure if he liked that or not, but it seemed that his cock liked it for how it was swelling at just the thought of bending her over. He wondered if anyone was watching; he also wondered if she would like it like that. She was different, alright, and Theon liked it.

"Good. You have it. When you release it, keep your bow arm the same, but your arrow arm is the one you bring up to complete the circle, like you're using your elbow as a pivot."

"This is very different from the Water Dance," she said with a smile. He could hear, though, the tension and discomfort in her voice. In truth, Theon liked hearing what she sounded like when she wasn't wearing either anger or courtliness. He wondered what she sounded like when she wasn't wearing words at all.

"You seem the type to like 'different,'" he said with his trademark grin spreading wide across his lips.

"You are right, Theon," said Cadenzsa as she glanced at him through the quiver. "I do."

He came behind her and watched how she was aiming. "Line up. This is good for now, but remember that when you're in battle, you must aim for where your target is going to be, and not where it is. Keep your head straight, lest that bowstring snap your face half-off." He could tell she wanted to laugh, but kept the tension just as well. She pulled harder. He reached behind and tilted her chin up. "Keep it parallel to the ground, so you'll see more level that way." His long fingers traced the curve of her cheek, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear. He whispered to her "Have you ever been with a man before?"

Thump went Cadenzsa's arrow, just outside the middle target. For a beginner, that was an amazing shot. He looked at her, who was giving him a playful smile. "Have you ever been with a man before?"

He grinned and gave a tiny laugh. She laughed, too, and handed him back his bow. "Thank you, Theon, for the lesson." She hopped a little on her lame leg. "Maybe when I'm not a cripple anymore, I'll teach you a few things." She turned slowly and began to walk away. "Until next time, my champion."

When he saw her at dinner that night, Jon was sitting with them, much to Lady Cat's chagrin. She was wearing an island blue gown, the same color of a warm southern bay's tropical waters. The color was beautiful on her, and it made her skin glow like she had swallowed the golden sun. The sleeves hugged her arms down to her elbows before flaring out in great circles like flower petals. He liked the Braavosi dress, and especially with her in it.

Her hair was out of its braid and fell in a mountainous black waterfall of waves and flips and gentle curls, pinned back gently with gold sea turtle pins that had diamonds as shells. She smiled at him when she caught him staring at her, and looked away coyly for - he knew - his entertainment alone. A woman like that isn't coy for the sake of it. A woman like that is coy when she knows she's being watched, and she likes it.

Everyone in Winterfell was under her spell. She was charming and exotic, and she even made all of the Starks laugh, which was a feat in and of itself. The Starks weren't a gloomy bunch, necessarily, but he rarely saw all of them laugh like that. Funny thing was that she seemed to have the younger men all under her spell, especially Robb.

Theon knew the look Robb gave to women when he liked them. Theon knew that Robb was much different from him when it came to chasing them, too, but he didn't know if Robb was going to catch on that Cadenzsa wasn't the type for Courtly Romance. Or perhaps she was, and Theon just didn't notice it yet? He admitted silently to himself that he didn't know the right way to break into her bed and find himself there. He had a feeling, though, that she would show him the way once that leg of hers healed. He knew that for how she gently licked her lips in a small way just when she happened to meet eyes with him. She knew what she was doing, and Theon liked every moment of it.

When the feast was broken, Theon offered to escort her back to her room, which nobody objected to. Cadeznsa circled her arm around his and leaned against him as she walked. When they got to her room, she pivoted on her good foot and leaned against the doorway, giving him an oh-so-mischievous smirk. She glanced down the corridor.

"Is anyone watching?" Theon shook his head with a grin; was she going to invite him in now? "Good." She took his face and brought it down to hers with a deep kiss. She's kissing you. He thought. She's kissing you. She's kissing you. She's kissing you... She tasted of the feast, hot and drunk. He liked the way her long fingers curled through his hair, and the way her tongue teasingly massaged his. When she pulled away, he felt himself give a tiny whimper. They were both a little breathless. She grinned. "Sleep well," she said, going into her room and closing the door tight behind her, leaving Theon to walk back to his own room, alone, with a throbbing erection.

R&R! I can't WAIT to write some sexy times. It's going to be DIRRTTYYYY! Also, I'm thinking of doing either Arya or Sansa's POV next. Lemme know in the comments! 3