As You Will
Part IIII
The Truth
Jon was sick with worry.
He had been an idiot to allow the princess to leave the hall alone with the castle full of suitors. Right now, any one of them could have followed her into a dark corner of the keep and thought to make his case for her hand. And from his limited time in the castle barracks, listening to how the guards spoke of the ladies of the court and handmaidens in the castle, he did not trust a single one of them.
As the princess' sworn shield, he had ordered men of the household guard to search for her, while he himself waited in her solar, praying she would have the sense to return soon. If anything happened to the princess on his watch, the king would have his head, Jon was sure about that. But even worse, he imagined Cassana in danger, scared and alone, and that made his blood curdle beneath his skin.
Jon's head swam with relief when the door to the solar opened, but when he opened his mouth, what came out was, "Where have you been?"
The princess' eyes were far away, but she blinked at the sharpness in his voice. "Ser?"
"I…" all the words he wanted to say jumbled in his mouth, and what he chose was, "I feared you were in danger, being all alone." He watched her carefully on the last word, wondering if she truly had been alone.
"I appreciate your concern, ser, but not your tone. You forget yourself."
"Forget myself?" Something bubbled in his chest, but that must have been fear. "I am your sworn shield. My place is by your side. You cannot wander the castle at night on your own."
Cassana bristled, "This is my father's castle. There is no safer place for me."
"Perhaps before the keep was filled with suitors who think-"
"-think what?"
Jon remembered the words in the barracks. "It's not suitable for a lady's hearing."
Cassana let out a deep sigh, running her hands through her hair. "Ser, I'm exhausted, I've had too much wine, and I have a lot on my mind. I will retire now." She made to move passed him, "I suggest you do the same."
Jon's hand shot out and gripped her wrist. "Are you alright?"
The princess turned, surprised, "As alright as I can be, given the circumstances. Why?"
"You seem…" he struggled to place his finger on it. Cassana never had a hair out of place, but now several were, as if she had been caught in a wind.
"Dishevelled."
A blush rose in her cheeks. "I'm fine, ser."
Jon felt it again, that heavy, uncomfortable silence when before tonight there had only been ease. He hated it. He did not understand it.
He released his hold on her wrist.
"You once said you hoped we could be friends. For a while, I thought we were."
"We are."
Jon nodded once, going to leave. "Good night, Your Grace."
"Wait."
When he did not, she called, "Jon!"
It was the first time she had called him by name. He turned, silent and still as a statue.
The princess sighed. Going to her writing desk and sliding open one of the drawers, she reached in and pulled out something long, bundled in cloth. She placed it gently on the table and gestured for him to come closer.
Jon frowned, coming toward the desk where she revealed what lay in the bundle.
It was a new sword, gleaming in the light of the hearth. On the pommel was a white wolf head, lovingly carved from ivory, with eyes of jet.
"You are my friend," Cassana said, smiling at his awed face. "That is the problem."
Jon shook his head, his mind slow and dull. "I don't understand."
"Tonight, my brother warned me that our friendship is drawing attention."
Jon stared at her.
Cassana looked at him expectantly.
Jon continued to stare, awaiting her explanation. When she did not elaborate, he asked, "Why?"
Cassana mumbled something that sounded a lot like, "Northerners."
"I still don't-"
"Because I am a woman, you are a man, and we enjoy each other's company. Apparently, that's enough for them to think that we…that we're-"
Jon's mouth dropped, and he had the sudden desire for the earth to open up beneath his feet and swallow him whole.
"What?" His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth. "But…of course we wouldn't- could never, I-"
"Of course not," Cassana crossed her arms, "but I do understand my brother's worry. Just look around us, ser."
Jon did.
Cassana gestured to the solar. "We're alone! A lady should never meet with a man in private, without supervision, and we're alone every day. Your chambers are adjacent to my own. For all the court knows, there's a door connecting our rooms and every night we-"
"-my lady," Jon's face could not get any hotter. He wondered if there was a door connecting their chambers, and afraid to find out. "Mercy, please."
Despite everything, Cassana laughed. "You look ready to throw yourself from the tallest tower in the Red Keep."
"Don't tempt me."
The two looked at each other for a long moment, and then they were both laughing, wiping tears from their eyes.
Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or the wine, but Cassana collapsed on the couch before the hearth with a heavy sigh. She patted the cushion beside her, and Jon sat.
They sat together in the comfortable silence he had come to enjoy, the two of them staring up at the ceiling, warming their toes by the fire.
"I feared you regretted your vow."
Cassana turned her head, "What?"
"That…" the words were out, he could hardly go back now, "that you no longer wanted to be friends."
Cassana was quiet for a moment, and then laced her fingers with his. The initial touch was a bolt of lightning up his arm, but as time passed, he relaxed. It was sweet.
Dangerously sweet.
"We'll always be friends, Jon. Need I remind you, we're bound by oath." She closed her eyes with a sigh, "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
"I can imagine a worse fate."
Cassana gave a little puff of amusement, and he could see her fighting sleep, and losing.
"We just have to be more careful in front of others, that's all," she said softly.
Jon's heart soared at that. "And in private?"
"Hmm."
Jon needed to hear the rest, "Princess?"
Cas opened her eyes and gave him a small, drowsy smile. "We can be ourselves."
For a moment, Jon never wanted to leave that couch.
Ourselves, he thought with a smile, looking back up at the ceiling. Yes, I can play the part of dutiful sworn sword in public, but friend in her company alone. If that's what it takes to squash the rumours and protect her reputation.
There was little Jon wouldn't do to protect her.
Jon watched the light of the flames dance across her face as her breathing grew deep and steady, as her head lulled. She must have been exhausted from all the excitement, all the dancing, and so he let her rest and told himself it had nothing to do with her hand in his.
After a while, though he had no idea how long it truly was, Jon lifted her in his arms and carried her to her chambers. He ignored the dangerously sweet way her face rested on his shoulder and laid her down gently, drawing the sheets up around her. Still asleep, Cassana sighed happily as she sunk beneath the bedding, and Jon found his feet would not carry him away.
He wanted to stay.
The thought unnerved him and was frightening enough to make him leave. At the doorway, he could have sworn he heard a small voice, but assured himself he was simply imagining things.
It wasn't until he was lying in bed, unable to sleep, that he realized what that voice had said.
Stay.
Jon had never seen a joust before.
He had heard of them from Sansa's songs. From where he stood at the princess's back, he could see Sansa's wide eyes take in every detail. The colourful banners, the flowing cloaks, the proud standards, beautiful horses, and knights who journeyed from all seven kingdoms to fight, and perhaps die, for the hand of the princess.
"A tragic waste," Ned Stark had said over breakfast. "Many good men will be injured. A few may even die, and for what?"
"For the princess," Sansa said surely.
Arya was stabbing at her food with a fork, "She's not worth dying for, is she, Father?"
Jon had the sudden urge to speak, but before he could, Ned cleared his throat. "Robert has always favoured the Warrior amongst the Seven. Favoured a strong arm and a brave heart, which is why he chose Jon to be her sworn shield. What do you think of all this, Jon?"
Jon thought of a word Cassana used when she first heard about the tournament.
"It's barbaric."
Ned's brow twitched, but he nodded, "Aye, it is."
Like the archers, the jousters made sure to lay flowers at the princess's feet. Before too long, red roses were piled high, and broken lances littered the tourney grounds. Jon watched lords, lordlings and knights fall beneath each other's lances, and wondered which of them would prevail, hoping the choice was better than Littlefinger, for his lady's sake.
Cassana watched them all with feigned interest, though Jon could see her thoughts lay elsewhere.
Murmurs began to spread through the crowd, quiet at first, and then louder and louder until Jon took note, following their line of sight to the horse trotting toward them.
A stallion as black as sin with a mane the colour of fire, the horse was not nearly as impressive as his rider, a tall, young Dornishman in shimmering orange and yellow robes. The man was so dazzling Jon almost had to look away.
When he stood ahorsed in front of Cassana with his lifted visor, the Dornishman gestured to his squire. The boy stepped forward and presented a black box.
"A gift from a prince to a princess," the Dornishman said with a brilliant smile.
Cassana kept her eyes on his face, but motioned to the boy, who scrambled up the dais and opened the box.
Jon nearly had to turn his eyes away from the brightness of it. A dazzling necklace of delicate gold weaving, in the centre sat the biggest stone Jon had ever seen, a flat emerald the size of an egg.
"Prince Elio…" Cassana gasped. "It's too great a gift."
"It would gladden my heart to see you wear it."
To Jon surprise, and irritation, Cassana brightened. The Tyrell girl stood and fastened to necklace to her lady's throat and whispered to her with excitement.
Cassana raised her fingers to touch the emerald. "I thank you, my prince."
"My lady wears it well, though the emerald pales in comparison to your eyes."
Jon fought his breakfast.
With that, the prince shut his visor and trotted to the end of the lists.
Cassana turned to Jon for his assessment, as she had for countless suitors before. Unlike the rest, he could think of no ill thing to say. A handsome prince had gifted her an emerald worth more than Jon would ever earn in his lifetime. What could he possibly say against him?
Especially when Cassana looked hopeful for the first time since she discovered the tourney's purpose.
Before he could say a word, the joust began.
Cassana leaned forward in her chair. Prince Elio's lance was true and knocked the poor Valeman off his horse. The hit was clean, and luckily the lordling seemed to have no worse than a bruised ego.
The crowd went wild for the prince, tossing flowers upon him.
Cassana's ladies were all whispering in her ear, but her eyes never left the prince, and when his horse trotted by her, Jon could have sworn she melted in her seat.
A dull ache in his jaw made Jon realize he was grinding his teeth.
The day passed by quickly after that. Prince Elio advanced round after round, to no one's surprise. The tourney pitch became more and more crowded as the day went on as word of Prince Elio spread throughout the city. The grounds were heaving with people as the Dornishman faced his last opponent, breaking five lances on a lordling from the westerlands until finally unhorsing him.
The city roared their approval, the king's next words almost lost in the chaos.
"The second contender for my daughter's hand, Prince Elio Martell of Dorne!"
"Princess Cassana Martell of Dorne," Lady Jeyne said dreamily as she embroidered a golden sun on a field of Baratheon black. "It does have a certain ring, doesn't it?"
Jon tried not to listen as the princess and her ladies sat on the veranda overlooking the sea. Since yesterday's joust, the castle had talked of nothing but Prince Elio, which irked Jon to no end, though he wasn't entirely sure why.
"I'm less concerned with the name and more concerned with the man," said Lady Myranda, leaning over the table as the rest of them played cards. "Cas, you have always been lucky, but this is ridiculous."
Cassana was pretending to be distracted by her cards. "Hmm."
Margaery Tyrell rolled her eyes, "Come off it, Cas. We know you're listening."
Cassana put her cards down. "What do you want me to say?"
"How about thank the gods, for a start," said Myranda. "Two days ago, Littlefinger was the only choice on the table, and now you have a gorgeous Dornish prince. Not only will you live in one of the greatest castles in the Seven Kingdoms, but you'll keep your title. This is the only match in Westeros that does not diminish you. Your father could not have made a better match if he tried."
"He didn't make this match, did he?" said Cassana. "It was luck."
"Losing a ribbon and finding it again is luck," said Jeyne. "You should be praising the gods for this turn in your fortune!"
Cas straightened, "Perhaps I should go to the sept."
Before she could rise, Margaery placed a hand on hers, "Something is bothering you, my lady. We can all feel it. A few months ago, you would have been thrilled with this match. What's changed?"
Cas sighed, looking out to sea. After a long moment, she said, "I wish I knew."
Jon's attention was taken by a young Dornish boy running toward them. He bowed when he saw Jon and said, "Prince Elio requests a word with Princess Cassana in the hedge maze."
"I-" Jon began, but before he could say anything, a gasp came from behind him.
"You see!" said Lady Jeyne. "Prince Elio wants to know you better."
"I suspect he has more than conversation on his mind," said Lady Royce. "The hedge maze is the perfect spot for some-"
"Enough," Cas said, a flush creeping up her neck. "I…I will go."
"Try not to have too much fun," said Margaery with a cocked brow.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," chirped Myranda.
A smirk rose to Cassana's lips as she rose. "I can't imagine worse counsel that that."
The ladies giggled and went back to their game as Jon offered Cas his arm.
The walk to the maze was painfully silent, a pressure in the air that Jon couldn't place. He, much like her ladies, could feel something bothered her, but did not know what it was.
And it sounded like she didn't know either.
"You haven't said a word of him."
Jon started at her words, not expecting her to say anything on the matter to him. "What would you like me to say?"
The princess gave him a sharp look. "Since when do you parrot back to me what I want to hear? You've never held back about a suitor before."
Jon looked ahead. "I…I have nothing to say against him."
"Nothing? Surely there's something…something I've missed, perhaps. Well, he is a bit forward…"
Jon's neck nearly snapped with the speed of which he turned his head. "Forward?"
Cassana was deep in thought. "He didn't seem arrogant to you?"
"He's highborn."
"As am I."
Jon gave her a pointed look.
Cassana's mouth fell open, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that came when they played like this.
"Are you calling me arrogant?"
"I would never dare dream of parroting back what you want to hear."
At that, she gave his arm a light slap, a laugh bursting from her lips. "You are impossible at times, ser."
"As are you, princess. A perfect prince falls in your lap, and you're not happy. You seemed pleased enough with him yesterday."
"I did, didn't I?" Cas looked away as they neared the entrance to the maze, where Prince Elio awaited her. "I was, I really was, but…"
"He seems the perfect choice," said Jon. "As comely as a maiden would wish, rich as a lady would want, and charming as a woman would desire. What could I possibly say against him?"
Cassana stopped. "Comely, rich and charming…"
"Very," he admitted, stopping with her.
"Is that all you think I care about?"
Jon blinked, turning his face to hers, trying to read the swirl of emotions in her eyes. He thought he knew her expressions by now, that he could read her mood with a glance, but this was something he could not name. His chest felt tight, as if someone stood upon it.
His silence was mistaken for agreement.
"I see," Cassana said in the cool tone she used for nobles. She continued walking on her own. "I wouldn't want to keep the prince waiting."
Jon watched her back, too many words crowding his mind, none of them making it to his lips. With a heavy sigh, he followed her.
"Princess!" Elio Martell awaited her in his golden splendour. "Thank you for joining me."
"A pleasure," Cassana curtsied, slipping back into her princess façade with practiced ease. "Shall we?"
Prince Elio extended a hand.
Cassana took it, looking back at Jon, "You may wait here, ser."
Before Jon could respond, Prince Elio said, "I'm more than capable of protecting you, my lady. Perhaps your sworn shield has other duties that require his attention."
Cassana's brows furrowed, "Oh, of course, I didn't think-"
"My place is with the princess," Jon said, the words coming naturally. "I will be here if you need me."
Cassana's smile was small, but true, "Thank you, ser."
"As you wish." Prince Elio pulled gently on her hand. "Come, princess, I need a guide, lest I get lost in the maze, never to be seen again."
Cassana smiled, and then the two were gone, melted into the tall greenery, and Jon was alone.
After a few long minutes, he seriously regretted not seizing Prince Elio's offer to leave. His place was with the princess, but she wasn't there. She was deep in the maze with Prince Elio, and gods only know what the prince was trying to-
Jon shook his head, the thought too treacherous to think. That was not his lady's way.
Well, he is a bit forward…
What in seven hells did that mean?
Footsteps on stones caught his attention, the gentle murmur of voices growing louder.
"…tournament is as good as won." The voice sounded like it belonged to a young man. "If I was meant to fight in the melee tomorrow, I'd pull my name from the listings."
His companion agreed. "Did you see the way she looked at him? There's no sense dying for spoiled goods."
Jon's feet were moving before he realised what was happening. He rounded the corner.
The two young knights jumped at his sudden appearance.
"Seven hells," one of them breathed. "Mind yourself, ser."
"And you should mind your tongue, ser," Jon said in a low and dangerous voice, his hand on the pommel of the sword she had given him, "or you won't have a tongue to mind."
"Is that a threat? Do you know who we are, bastard?"
The blood roaring in Jon's ears only got louder, but he contained his rage, eyeing their sigils. Both were too minor for him to know or fear. "No, but you clearly know who I am."
"Well we do, ser." The knight with the owl on his breast crossed his arms over his chest. "You're the princess' bastard shadow. Where is your lady now?" He eyed the hedge at Jon's back. "In there with the Dornish prince, no doubt. Perhaps you should concern yourself less with us, and more with your lady's waning honour."
With one great stride Jon was on him, his dagger drawn and held at the knight's throat.
The knight paled, the other frozen, but Jon's lip only curled, his hand curiously steady and voice curiously calm.
"Take care how you speak of my lady."
"Jon!"
Jon lowered his knife at the sharpness in Cassana's voice, not taking his eyes off the knight before him.
"Princess, your sworn shield attacked us!"
"A man of his birth and temperament is not fit to-"
"Enough!" Cassana snapped. "Prince Elio, Sers Rolland and Ky have overstayed their welcome. Can you please ensure they leave my castle and my city?"
"As you wish, my lady," said Prince Elio, his voice suggesting pleasure that she trusted him with the task. "With me, sers."
"This is an outrage!"
"Take it to the king," said Elio. "I'm sure he'll trust your word over his daughter's. Now move."
Jon expected the princess to storm up to him, to scold and shout. What he did not expect was her to take his hand and pull him into the maze.
"Are you hurt?"
Jon met her eyes, surprised to find them full of…
Concern?
"Hurt?"
Her eyes raked him, looking for any sign of cut or injury. "Why else would you have drawn your dagger if you weren't threatened?"
Jon felt a flush of shame creep up his neck. "I was not threatened."
Cassana's brows knit. "Then why in gods' name did you-"
"They insulted your honour."
"My honour?"
"Yes."
"You saw fit to press a blade to a man's throat over some crude words?"
"My duty is to defend you."
Cassana spread her arms, "Do I appear to be in danger to you?"
"No, but-"
"Do you know where the true danger lies?" Cassana poked a finger at his chest, "You, being hauled before the king, being questioned or imprisoned or worse. What were you thinking?"
Jon opened his mouth, but no words of defence came to him. After a long moment, he said. "I wasn't."
"Clearly."
Jon stared at his feet, his cheeks stinging, though the worst sting was how quickly Cassana had risen to his defence. She had banished the two knights from the castle without even speaking with them, so sure Jon would only do what was right, and he had done what was foolish.
"They…they also called me…" the word would not come out.
Cassana did not struggle to guess the insult. The anger in her simmered away and cooled.
"I'm sorry for that."
"I thought I could start a new life here. Be Ser Jon of the Wolfswood, sworn shield to the blood royal, but…I'll never be free."
Cassana went to stand beside him and rested against the green hedge. "I…I won't pretend to know how you feel, ser, but you can't behave this way."
"I brought you dishonour," said Jon without looking at her. "Forgive me."
"Forget my honour."
Jon turned his head. "What?"
The princess shrugged, "I'm a noblewoman. Ever since my flowering, my honour has been questioned by knights and lordlings looking to console their fragile egos. Once, when I was four and ten, I overheard some insults and cried with the shame of it." Cassana smiled. "It was my Uncle Tyrion who found me. He said, sweetling, they are housecats who so wish to be a lion like you. Don't let them make you believe you are any less than what you are."
Jon smiled. "Your uncle is a wise man."
"He has his moments."
"But then, if it's not your honour you're worried about…"
"I'm worried about you."
Jon blinked.
"What if I hadn't been here?" Cassana turned her rings, her eyes far away. "What if I was a moment too late, and they had fought back? What if you harmed them, or worse, they harmed you?"
Jon didn't have an answer for that. He found it hard to think of anything at all.
"You need to ask your father for the truth."
That caught him off guard. "What?"
"About your mother. You need to know who she is."
Jon took a step back, shaking his head, "I can't…"
Cassana took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "You're ready, Jon. You're a knight now. Ser Jon of the Wolfswood. We won't be in King's Landing for much longer. Whatever happens next, you and I will leave this place. You need to know."
Jon looked between her eyes. There was a determination and conviction in them he had never seen before.
Jon shut his eyes. "I…I am afraid to know…to find that she's…" He did not want to dream it, "gone. If I don't know the truth, I'll never feel grief."
"You'll never feel peace, either."
Jon opened his eyes to find Cassana right before him. Without him realizing, she had taken his other hand, and now gripped them both fiercely. Before he knew what he was doing, he brought their joined hands to his chest. He was sure she could feel his thumping heart beneath his doublet, but did not care. He only wanted her close, to show her how much she meant to him.
"Either way," Cassana gave him a hopeful smile, "I'm here for you."
"Thank you, princess." Though words did not feel like enough. So he lifted her hands and pressed her knuckles to his lips, holding her gaze.
Cassana's smile faded, her throat working as she swallowed hard.
After a moment, she pulled away, her hands joined at her front.
"I should-" Cassana began.
"Of course."
Cassana nodded, not quite meeting his eyes, and hurried out of the maze.
Jon could have kicked himself for his stupidity. Here she was, trying to offer him words of comfort as a friend, and he had-
A flush crept up his neck, but he shook his head. His next task required all his focus.
By the hour's end, Jon would know his mother's name.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please spare a moment to leave a review if you can!
All the best,
Rose
