There was a knock on Cersei's bedchamber door. Her first thoughts were of the Rock, how Jaime used to knock on her door and wake her so sweetly. That was until he joined Aerys' Kingsguard, and Father had taken Cersei back to Casterly Rock. She wished he were there in Winterfell with her. Mayhaps in another life, if she didn't convince him to join the Kingsguard, he could serve as her personal guard and protector. Or maybe he could sweep her back to Casterly Rock, rescue her from this cold stone prison, and she would be free to marry who chose and fuck who she pleased.

The first thing she saw was the ceiling, as she opened her heavy-lidded eyes. There was still that heavy longing in her chest, something full of homesickness. To wake up in her own bed, the bed that had belonged to her for sixteen years, and to feel the warm sun on her face as she rose from her sleep, but as she became aware of the reality around her, she knew she couldn't return to Casterly Rock. You are to be the Lady of Winterfell, it's time to mature, a harsh voice inside her head said.

Why couldn't she settle into her new home, like most other women in Westeros?. All the other married women she knew did. Her Uncle Tygette's wife, Darlessa, had settled into Casterly Rock within two moons, conducting herself as if she was a Lannister born and raised. It was extremely irritable, the way Tygette's wife had pranced around the Rock and showed off the jewels her husband had bought her as if she was a child at a tourney, cherishing all the wonders of the court.

There were other married in the family that aggravated her, like Kevan's weak chicken-legged little wife. If it were up to her, if she was the Lady of Casterly Rock, mayhaps she would have Dorna Swyft confined to her chambers, or Darlessa Marbrand's tongue cut out. Her father could do that if he wished, and that was why he was so respected. If Cersei had what he had, nobody would seek to vex her.

"My lady?" a merry voice called from beyond her bedchamber door called, "Lord Brandon wishes to see you in the Great Hall."

The thick covers slid off Cersei's form gently as she sat up. There was no light shining through the window, in fact, she could still see stars in the sky. It seemed awfully early for breakfast, considering as they seeped further into Winter the Starks got up later and later. Her head pounded, and her legs felt weak and dead as her feet touched the fur-lined stone floor. She walked forward towards the window and saw that Winterfell was still covered in snow. Snow lay in piles in the courtyard, like they had the last few days. They'd had to stay inside, Cersei had spent the time snowed in watching Lyanna spar with her brother in the evening.

She'd found a few books that might be to her liking around the Castle. On her nightstand, sat the title The Wolf and The Dove, a book bound in a purple leather cover. At first glance, Cersei had got the impression it would entail information about animals, a scholarly volume of some sort. When she began to read the book, she found the content inside to be fictional. It was a story about a woman falling in love with her husband's brother. It was a low quality romance book, the prose was overtly flowery and the main character was willing to give up everything for a man. It was pathetic… but amusing. The heroine also detailed how she felt so strange moving across the country to marry a man she barely knew and Cersei related to the way she sought comfort in his family.

Cersei decided to invite the maid into her room and requested that she light some candles so she could get ready. The table next to the dark window was covered in cloth and had a small mirror sitting on it. Cersei sat down and brushed through her golden hair, the texture thick and full of ringlets. No maids or serving girls had tried to touch it since she'd first arrived. When she deemed her hair brushed enough, she put down the brush and ran her fingers through her mane, her pale skin was a contrast to the golden hue.

The serving woman with her chocolate brown hair tied up shuffled around the room and asked Cersei what she would like to wear and she chose a green dress. She let her body relax as the common woman dressed her. What could Brandon be requesting her presence for? She did not know, but she supposed it would be wise to meet her betrothed when he wanted to see her.

When she looked in the mirror again, her head still pounded and felt empty. The clothes in the north were always thick and was a material that was almost itchy but she had grown used to the feel over the past couple moons. Would they feel like this in the Summer too? In the West and in King's Landing, she could sometimes get away with wearing sleeveless gowns. They would've have been very scandalous for a young unmarried woman to wear, if it were not for the heat. The soft fabrics of the South had been much more comfortable to Cersei's skin than the thick clothes of the North. Would she acquire a higher quality of clothes when she married Brandon, or when his father died and she became the Lady of Winterfell?

Once she was dressed and ready, she began her journey to the expansive Great Hall. Her shoes were also a lot thicker, thick leather accompanied by fur lining on the inside. They thudded on the floor, unlike the King's Landing ones which she remembered clicking on stone. She considered Brandon might want to see her for something futile, like a certain question about the wedding preparations. She doubted it though, Brandon wouldn't wake her to ask her such a simple question. Surely not. His father, Lord Rickard, had assured her everything would be taken care of and that a bride shouldn't have to worry and stress over her own wedding. However, her fiance had proven himself to be dense on many occasions so it was not out of the question.

The hall was very dim in those hours of the morning, lit only by golden candlelight. Suddenly, she bumped into something warm but hard. Something covered in furs, that smelled sweet and musky kind of like a sweet from the streets of Lannisport. She thought it was Brandon at first, she recalled him to have a slightly similar scent but he smelled more bitter and salty rather than sweet. Her suspicions were confirmed that this was not Brandon when she heard a familiar voice ask, "My lady..?"

A long concerned face stared back at her when she looked up slightly. Eddard was not that much taller than her, so she did not have to bend her neck like she had done with his older brother or father– but it was still a reminder that she was a guest and she did not belong in Winterfell. She removed her hands from his chest where the fur wore lay, and took a step backwards. She eyed him carefully and noticed that his eyes were slightly wider than normal and he seemed to want to avoid eye contact with her. He ought to be not so nervous around her by now, especially after their talk in the great hall after the happenings at the library tower. The reason she'd initially started talking to him in the first place, was because she'd suspected he was who caught Brandon playing with her cunt in his sacred place of worship.

When they'd talked on the same morning she'd found out about Lyanna's boyish hobbies, there was something calm and trusting about him. The way he'd talked to her, it was not like before. When she'd first arrived at Winterfell, he seemed cold and judging. His foggy grey eyes ruled harshly on her character, but when she'd talked and listened to him he seemed interested. He'd asked about her father for just a moment, and she assumed he'd genuinely wanted to know more. She could never speak of her family so freely though. When she just thought of Lord Tywin's glare, she felt like her world was shrinking in on her. Truthfully talking about him would not be a much better feeling.

He'd talked about his family though and she'd found it amusing and almost endearing. There had been fright in his eyes and caution in his voice when he'd spoken of his thoughts of Brandon and the implication that he could maybe one day take something away from him. It showed he respected his older brother so much. It reminded Cersei of her uncle Kevan in a way, always so loyal and trustworthy to the Warden of the West.

Looking down at her hands, she rubbed her wrist where they'd lay on Eddard's chest. "I'm sorry, my lord." She did not need to apologise, but it was smart to be humble around Brandon's kin. It was Eddard's doing anyway. He should have seen her coming and moved!

"It's quite alright, my lady," Brandon's brother said. His voice was calm and smooth and there was a pregnant pause of silence between the two. Eddard looked back in the direction of the Great hall, and then returned his gaze to Cersei. His expression looked like he wanted to ask her something, but he was not sure on his question yet.

Cersei fidgeted with the cuffs of the sleeves on her dress and then looked back up at him, waiting.

"Are you breaking your fast early, Cersei?" Eddard asked finally, folding his arms across his chest like he wanted to shrink, "You normally eat closer to noon."

"No," she said, "I mean, I will probably be breaking my fast too. But your brother requested my presence this morning."

Eddard looked confused, his brows knotting in the centre of his forehead, "Me too. He requested my presence too. I was just looking to see who was coming, if it was him or not. Apologies again, my lady."

Oh. So the discussion of something private and personal was ruled out it seemed. What announcement or activity could Brandon have planned for both of them?

Eddard stepped out of the way and Cersei nodded to him, in an effort of politeness. She resumed her trip towards the Great Hall. As she moved, she could hear the leather of Eddard's boots thudding on the stone floor walking behind her. The urge to straighten her posture hit her like she was being watched by a crowd.

The Great Hall came into her vision and she lifted her skirts to climb the small stairs at the entrance. It was empty. Brandon was nowhere in sight. She sighed, frustrated. She looked around the hall to find that it was only populated by tapestries and banners of the North.

Eddard joined her, walking further over to one of the large banquet tables. Cersei almost let out a groan before she remembered she had company. Holding back shouts, she asked, "Where is he?"

Eddard shook his head, "I'm not sure. A servant woke me early to tell me Brandon wanted to see me."

Where was he then? As Cersei walked over to the table too, she saw bread, butter and some cheese laid out accompanied by some rich and colourful fruits she assumed were harvested from the glass gardens. A simple breakfast, although Cersei could claim her mornings at Casterly Rock had been much grander.

Eddard pulled out a chair first and sat down. The table was lined with a piece of cloth with the Stark Direwolf stitched on skilfully, depicting the fur in much detail. She took a seat too, a chair or two away from Eddard and saw him avert his gaze. As she extended her hand towards the bread and butter, she couldn't help but notice that he was going to take one too. Withdrawing her hand, she let him. He looked wary but proceeded to take a piece of bread, looking over at her in the process. She smiled softly, and earned a small upturn from his lips in return.

All was silent for the next few moments until Cersei heard heavy footsteps. Brandon smiled towards them. This had better be important. He was not dressed very formally, so Cersei guessed that this was not an important announcement. "Good morning," Brandon greeted, his voice full of glee. A wide grin was spread across his face, pulling one corner of his mouth up more than the other. His face was more handsome than his younger brother, Eddard's, but it vexed Cersei how happy he seemed to be. He looked like a hound waiting on his next meal half the time, relaxed but still excited like he had an invisible tail wagging at the back of him. Carefree, like he did not care that he had his betrothed and his brother waiting before daybreak for him.

He nodded in greeting before walking over to Cersei. He pressed a kiss to her hair, his rough stubble tickling again her forehead and she watched him carefully as he then placed a kiss to the back of her hand. She did not match his light, easy smile. He sat down, a seat away from Eddard and a seat away from Cersei. He helped himself to the bread and cheese the servants had prepared.

"Morning," Eddard mumbled, still focused on his meal.

"How are the two of you?" Brandon asked, still smiling before taking a bite of his breakfast. The butter and cheese greased his face and Cersei found it quite disgusting. He ate with little decorum, had he forgotten that she was still a guest in Winterfell?

Considering the sky is still pitch black, I'm not feeling the best, Cersei thought. That would be her truthful answer. Instead, she answered with a sharp smile on her face, "Fine, my love. I am only tired."

"I'm tired too," Eddard answered. He seemed to have finished all his breakfast and was now drinking from a cup of water.

Cersei was getting slightly dispirited with all of the tedious smalltalk between the three. "Why have you called on us, Brandon?" She asked in a delicate tone, the softest she could muster. She placed her hand slowly and gently onto his forearm. "Do tell, my love. This lack of sleep will end up giving me wrinkles."

Playing up the frail, innocent act, was part of her strategy but it was somewhat true. Cersei would hate to develop dark circles, it would contrast with her golden mane.

To her surprise, Brandon only chuckled. It was hard to read him sometimes, his eyes were light and joyful but they looked as if he was hiding something. The sudden urge to reach out, wrap her hands around his shoulders- or around his neck-, dig her nails into his skin, and shake an answer from him. She did not wish to return to her chambers now. It was too late for that, her eyes had grown accustomed to the light and after breaking her fast she felt energised, but she needed an answer to why he'd woken her and wasted her time.

Brandon drew his arm back, swiping it from Cersei's grasp and dug that hand into his pocket. She expected him to fish out a necklace, a ring, or some gift for her just as he had in the glass gardens all those moons ago. He brought out a small in a little sheer bag. Cersei looked closer and it seemed to be a pack of cards.

Cersei saw red, as she realised that the ever-so-perfect Brandon Stark had woken her up in the early dark hours of the morning to play fucking cards. Through her narrow eyes, she looked down at the deck and recognised it. She'd seen it in King's Landing sometimes played between the noble children. She'd seen it in the West too and played it herself with her friends or Jaime.

It was at the Rock where she'd learned of the deck's history, during a childish game that she and Jaime had appropriately dubbed Match. It was during a game, that her dreadful imp of a younger brother had wandered into the room and gasped when he noticed the cards. Tyrion had pointed at the cards and blurted out 'Those came from the Reach!' including some other useless knowledge which had earned an eye-roll from Cersei and an amused laugh from Jaime. Jaime then inquired Tyrion further about the cards, and their little brother told them that the cards originated in the Reach. According to Tyrion, the initial names of the court cards had been The Gardener, The Queen and The Fool, but were promptly changed to The Lord, The Lady and The Fool after Westeros was conquered. It was only after Cersei's third eye-roll, that Jaime had ushered Tyrion out of their rooms.

Cersei stuttered in utter shock when she first saw the cards but quickly regained her composure. She then smiled tightly, trying to mask the roaring anger inside her head, and asked quietly, "What's this, my love?"

"Oh, I thought we could play cards together. Me, you, Ned."

Cersei really was speechless, really. Her future husband had proven to be thicker than she'd first thought. "Why?" Eddard asked, as if he were reading her mind, his brows knotted in concentration as if he was trying to fathom why his brother was such a fool.

"I noticed… Lyanna, she told me a while ago that things could be quite tense between the two of you. I thought a game might help, allow you both an opportunity to sort it out," Brandon explained calmly as if his idea was anywhere close to normal.

"And you think the best time for that is before sunrise?" Cersei asked, just as calm, tilting her head and trying her best to smile. She couldn't recall when it had ever been tense between she and Eddard, except when she'd first arrived. Everything had been good between them as of late, especially considering the talk they'd had a few days ago. Mayhaps he'd said something to Lyanna or Brandon? Something about when she'd threatened him, or mayhaps he really did see them in the godswood. Swallowing hard, she felt nauseous and looked over at him. Eddard focused his gaze on his brother and only his brother, avoiding her gaze completely. He looked somewhat innocent, she supposed, if not perplexed.

Brandon shrugged and said, "I have a busy day. My time will be occupied with other concerns, and subjects of importance. My father wishes to teach me the deeper history of our house, and concepts such as our past with the Boltons. Surely you can understand, Cersei." The tone seemed to dip barely, as if he was urging her to be compassionate. She could not empathise with a man who was so inconsiderate. He'd woken his brother and an honoured guest, a Lady of a Great House, up in the early hours of the morning to play a game essentially. She did not know if even Jaime could be that childish.

Nevertheless, she supposed it would be wise to humour him. She smiled and nodded, "Very well. How do we play?"

Brandon placed the small deck on the table. He sorted through the cards with his large hands, classifying the suits into small piles; Swords, Cups, Roses and Coins. "This game is called, Winter's Triumph. We played it when we boys didn't we, Ned? Apparently, it came from our mother's side of the family. She taught us how to play it after all," he said, smiling at her and moving closer. Cersei could care less about where the pathetic game came from, although the former Lady Stark did intrigue her. Did she feel lonely and homesick when she first came to marry Rickard Stark?

Brandon sat beside her now and urged his brother closer too. The quiet boy walked towards them and slowly pulled out a wooden chair beside Cersei. She took a breath in when they were all seated. Brandon pointed to the suit of Roses he had sorted and said, "This will be our triumph suit." He then gathered the rest of the cards into his hands, leaving a lone Two of Roses face up. The rest of the cards were shuffled and dealt to the group. Cersei watched and counted as seventeen cards were tossed to each of them.

"The aim of the game is to win with the highest score. Each card is worth their face value, and double that if it belongs to the Roses suit," He pointed to the Two of Roses, "This card would be worth four points. Also, an Ace is worth four, The Lord is worth three, The Lady is worth two and the Fool is worth one."

Cersei's heart pinched slightly, infuriated that she was being spoken to like a child. "So, do we stop when we've played all of our hand?"

"No. You stop halfway through. I forgot to mention that you stop when you've played nine or so cards," Brandon answered and then must have saw Cersei looking unamused and dissatisfied because he said, "You'll get the hang of it. Don't worry."

"Understood," Cersei told him smoothly and then picked up the hand Brandon had dealt her. Her eyes swiped across the cards, and from first glance, she realised she had more than a few cards belonging to the Roses suit. An Ace, a Seven, a Three and a Five. She looked up from where she held her cards and saw Brandon and Eddard holding their cards as well, beginning to consider their first moves. She glanced back and decided she would place an Ace.

"You'll go first since you're the youngest," Eddard told her, and she could almost swear she heard him sigh when he went back to looking at his cards.

She confidently played an Ace of Roses card, she could save her Seven of Roses or one of her higher cards for later. "Nice play! That's worth eight. Ned, you're next," Brandon announced.

She nodded over at him, acknowledging the score. Eddard seemed to think for a moment and then decided on playing a Nine of Cups. Brandon announced Ned's score and then played his own card, The Lord of Cups, seemingly keeping a tally in his head.

Assessing her cards once more, she noticed how she had three sevens. A Seven of Coins, a Seven of Swords and a Seven of Roses. She played the Swords card.

Next, Eddard played an Eight of Swords and Brandon played a Ten of Roses. When it was Cersei's turn again, Brandon had taken to lifting up the grey cloth on the table and carving the scores into the wood with the knife he'd used to spread butter on the bread he'd eaten. Cersei played her Seven of Coins, and Eddard played a Three of Swords. When it was time for Brandon to play his card, she had grown bored of the silence. "Your mother taught you this, you said?" she asked, her question against the faint noise of wind outside of the keep.

"Aye," Brandon said, chuckling slightly and raising his gaze and his brow to look at his brother, "She taught it to us during the last winter. We were only boys then, weren't we Ned?"

She saw Eddard nod slowly, "I remember."

Brandon played a Lady of Roses, carving his tally into the table. Cersei wondered for a moment whether the kitchen servants or Rickard might become angry with him but then she remembered Brandon was the eldest. He is the heir, she thought, he can do what he pleases and face no consequences. He knows this.

Cersei played another seven, a Seven of Roses this time which earned a smirk from Brandon as he carved in her points. "My brother and I played a very childish version with this deck. We called it Match, and I remember spotting children playing a similar game in the Red Keep. It was very simple, it must have been popular. My mother probably would have taught me a more sophisticated game when I got older, if she'd lived."

Eddard seemed to perk up at the mention of Cersei's mother, his brows raising in acknowledgement. Why did he care? Brandon look intrigued too, just in a different way, "Were you close with your mother?" he asked as Eddard played a Nine of Coins.

"Well, I really didn't get the chance before she passed away," her voice dropped softly on the second part of the sentence, "My brother and I were close though, very close, as close as siblings could be."

"It must have been hard for you, leaving your home and family," Eddard mentioned as Brandon played another card.

Cersei didn't know what to respond with at first, mayhaps only a smile? "Thank you," she said with a small smile. Realising it was her turn again, she shifted her focus off of Eddard and onto deciding on her next card. She only had some cards that could score her under ten points left, so she played a Five of Roses.

"I'm sure it's alright, right? Everyone needs to flee the nest eventually," Brandon said, his gaze fixed on his hand of cards.

Cersei squinted and her lips parted as Eddard took his turn, "No. I would have not left my home if it were my choice," she told Brandon sincerely, her voice cold like the winds.

Chuckling and shuffling through his cards, Brandon said, "You may have not wanted it, but everyone needs it. Independence can be a rich value, why do you think men leave home for the Night's Watch or the Citadel? They have passions that need not concern their kin."

Men, Cersei thought, That is only who he considers. She played a random card, refusing to reply.

Brandon went on, "Even Ned, he'll leave eventually. Won't you, brother?"

Eddard only shuffled, rearranging his form to rest his elbows more on the table. Cersei leaned back in her chair, placing her remaining cards in her lap. "My family is the most important thing to me in the world."

Brandon scoffed, a laugh full of apathy, condescension and carelessness, "Why are you here, then?"

Cersei pressed her lips together tightly shaking her head. She could see Brandon side-eying her but she did not care. She was finished with it, she didn't want to play his mother's shitty little game anymore. He had been so inconsiderate on this morning and topped it all off by judging her for something she could not control.

"I can see where you're both coming from," Eddard began quietly, but then cleared his throat, "Some might prefer to stay with their kin whilst others might seek true independence somewhere like the Night's Watch, The Citadel, The Motherhouse. And Brandon, I never said I would leave Winterfell."

Brandon never answered his brother's objection, focusing his gaze on his cards once more. The remaining few minutes of the game were played in silence. Brandon won, of course.

Why would he wake her up and then suggest such a stupid bloody activity? Cersei fumed, walking back to her chambers. It was not as if she wanted to live here in Winterfell. She'd been forced up here by her father, and the only choice she had as a woman was to comply. She thought Brandon had been arrogant and demanding throughout the card game, and she was frightened that she'd made a mistake. She had to make it up to him if she wanted to be respected… panic rose in her chest. Maybe she could make it up to him, with her body and take it to a new step in their relationship. Suck his cock mayhaps?

She walked through the halls and into her bedchambers, noticing a dark figure on her bed. She squealed at first, earning a high-pitched laugh from the girl who was sitting there. Cersei looked at her, Lyanna who was grinning and only wearing a blue nightgown on her bed. She clutched one of Cersei's pillows in her lap. "Did I scare you?" She laughed as she asked.

Cersei walked towards her slowly, sneaking up as if she was a lion cub stalking her prey, and snatched the pillow Lyanna held. She hit Lyanna across the head with it, and kneeled on the bed. The younger girl let out loud laughter-filled yelps, "Stop it!

Smirking, she ceased and set the pillow down against her headboard where it should have been. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I came in here to check on you. I didn't see you yesterday… and when you weren't in I just…" The Stark girl trailed off mid-sentence.

"Let yourself in?"

"Aye…" Lyanna didn't look very proud of herself, "I hope it's okay!"

"It's fine," Cersei said, smoothing out her dress beneath her.

"Where were you anyway?" Lyanna asked, tilting her form more to face her.

Lyanna gasped, "Cards?" Cersei nodded and then Lyanna rolled her eyes, "What a dick."

"I know right," Cersei huffed, laying back on the bed.

"I'm sorry, my brother is a fool. I'm sorry you have to marry him, I wouldn't want to."

Cersei looked up at her from where she lay back on the bed, "Surely you know the feeling?"

Lyanna appeared to be disgusted at just the thought of Robert. Her nose scrunched up and she looked like she was thinking, as if recalling his very image, but she simply agreed with "Aye."

"Why?" Cersei asked, sitting up again, running her hand down her friend's arm in a comforting gesture, "He's very handsome…"

"He whores." Lyanna told her softly, "I want my husband to be loyal to me, and only me! That is how a marriage should work. That's how my parent's marriage worked, didn't yours? I hear he already has a bastard, my father would have never!"

Cersei thought about if Lord Tywin could ever sire a bastard… "Brandon whores too. It worries me," Cersei offered, trying to relate to Lyanna's situation in some way. It did not really bother her, she would prefer if Brandon did not sire bastards but she didn't really care about his fidelity.

The girls sat in silence for another moment, and Cersei got up to light the hearth. As she threw a piece of firewood in, she said, "I think he cheated too."

"Really?" Lyanna laughed, Cersei sitting beside her on the bed once again, "How so?"

"I just know," Cersei said, "We got into an argument your other brother was nice about it though."

"Ned?"

Cersei nodded and stared at the fire. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to wed Brandon's brother, instead of him. He was so much more controlled and tried his best to agree with her on most things. Even if they did have a rocky start, he was kind and he was way more engaging than Brandon. But… he was quiet. He would not be the best company at events like feasts, Cersei knew. That quietness could also come off as rude and careless, Cersei certainly assumed so when she first met him.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed Lyanna had shuffled over to the other side of the bed, nosing around Cersei's bedside table. "What's this?" She asked as she held up the book Cersei had been reading. The Cover was illustrated, painted carefully with a woman petting a wolf with a small dove resting on her finger

Cersei only smirked as she moved closer to Lyanna, and took The Wolf and the Dove from Lyanna's hands, "Let me show you."