As You Will

Part V

The Island

"What happened in the maze?"

"What? Nothing!"

Myranda put her hands up, "Gods, Cas, I was just asking how it went with the prince."

"Elio? Oh." Cassana twisted her rings, "He was nice."

It was not Elio she was thinking of, but Jon. Specifically the way he kissed her fingers. A few days ago, her brother's warnings seemed preposterous, but now she could see how others would see their friendship as more than what it was.

Margaery drew a card with a heavy sigh, "Leave it, Myranda. The princess is obviously preoccupied."

"Preoccupied?"

Jeyne leaned back in her chair, "You've been staring out to sea in silence for several minutes. You didn't even blink when we invited you to join our game."

"I'm sorry," Cassana looked at the faces of her friends and found them blurring. "I…I-"

The next thing she knew, they were all embracing her.

"I was just teasing, Cas," Myranda said softly. "You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to."

"It's not that." Cassana's throat felt like someone was giving it a squeeze. "I'm afraid of what comes next. I'm not ready. It's too much, too soon, I don't want to leave King's Landing, my family, or any of you. I can't-"

"You can," said Margaery with a kind smile. "Cas, you have spent your entire life under your parent's rule. Soon, you will be running your own household, your own castle, your own life. You are ready, and your life is about to begin."

"I never thought of it as a beginning."

"All endings are." Margaery tucked a curl behind her ear.

"Do you truly believe you can be rid of us so easily?" asked Myranda. "I don't care where any of us go, there are always letters and namedays and tourneys."

"We'll visit each other as often as we can," said Jeyne, "and our children will be friends, perhaps even marry each other. Then we'll truly be family."

The thought of their children playing together made Cassana's heart soar. "We're already family, Jeyne. In the way that matters."

Her three ladies exchanged a look.

"What?"

"It's because we're family that we…" Margaery looked very much like she wished she were elsewhere. "…we need to talk to you.

"About?"

"Ser Jon Snow."

Cassana didn't know what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that. "What about him?"

"You've been so distracted lately," said Myranda. "You hardly speak with us of suitors anymore, you spend most of your time in each other's company-"

Cas stepped back, "He is my sworn shield. We are meant to spend time in each other's company." She looked at each one of them in turn. "Do you all feel this way?"

They nodded.

The princess crossed her arms, "This is ridiculous. You sound like my brother."

"The crown prince has noticed?"

"There is nothing to notice," Cassana insisted.

"When it came to suitors, you used to speak of no one but my brother," said Margaery, "but your heart hasn't been his for a while, has it?"

"My heart is my own," said Cas. "You've proven my point, Margaery. Ser Loras used to make my heart race. I could hardly think or speak proper sentences in his company. I'm nothing like that with Ser Jon."

"No, you're not," said Jeyne with a smile. "You laugh and jest with him as you do with us. You are your true self."

"Why shouldn't I care for him as I do for you?" Cassana asked. "Why shouldn't I befriend the man I'll be spending the rest of my life with?"

"Cas, we just-"

Cassana took another step back. "I need time. Alone."

"But we're meant to go on the pleasure barge at sunset."

"Please," Cassana whispered, "I wish to be alone."

Before her ladies could say another word, Cassana left them on the veranda, her heart and mind more of a mess than when she arrived.


Princess Cassana meandered down to the docks, taking the long way. She focused on the world around her, how the spring flowers were in bloom, the sound of the lark singing in the trees, anything, anything in the world, but the tourney and her impending marriage.

I hoped you would be wearing my necklace.

Elio's words from the maze came back to her. She didn't know why she refrained from wearing the intricate golden piece, but it didn't feel right. It was too great a signal to the world that she had all but accepted his suit.

Walking into that maze with the Dornish prince, Cas worried he would try to kiss her again like he did the night of the welcome feast. He hadn't, but instead told her more of Sunspear, of what their life together would look like if she chose him.

It sounded like a sun-kissed dream. In Dorne, women were equal in the eyes of the nobility. He would allow her all the freedom she wished, but when she asked of his fidelity, he had hesitated. She'd heard of Oberyn's reputation for fathering bastards and had plucked up enough courage to ask Elio if a similar fate awaited her.

Prince Elio tensed. "It took my father many years to find my mother. Since then, he has kept to her bed. Though, they have invited others to join them."

Cassana released his arm. "You're mocking me."

"I'm not." Elio's eyes were earnest. "Princess, we are still learning about each other. I hope beyond hope that we fall in love, and if that happens, I will devote myself to you entirely."

"That could take years. Until then, you are free to do as you please, is that what you're telling me?"

Prince Elio took her hands. "I cannot promise love, for love is unpredictable. I can promise you a man who will cherish and respect you. Who will give you children to love and raise, as you give them to me. That, I swear to you."

It was a deal better than most women got, Cassana thought as she approached the pleasure barge. A gift from the king to the queen, the small boat was the royal family's way of enjoying the small islands around Blackwater Bay. The man at the helm, who had known her nearly all her life, gave her a deep bow.

"Will it just be you today, princess?"

"Yes. Well, I am expecting my shield."

The boatman looked over her shoulder. "You won't have to wait much longer, Your Grace. Though, between you and I, he doesn't seem to be in the mood for a ride."

Cassana turned to find Jon stalking toward them, his face red and sword hand shaking. He looked a far deal more upset now than he did when he held a knife to a knight's throat.

"Ser?"

"I beg your pardon, princess," said Jon, his voice as tightly wound as an archer's bowstring, "but I am feeling unwell. I've come to ask for the evening off."

"Unwell?" Cassana glanced back at the boatman, who was still working on the moorings, preparing the boat for departure. "Ser, do…do you know-"

"I know everything." Whether he meant to or not, Jon was nearly baring his teeth. "And I need to be alone."

"I'm not sure you should be alone right now."

Jon glanced up and down the dock. "Where are your ladies?"

The corner of Cassana's lip curved, "I may…have asked to be alone."

Jon gave her a look.

"I know, I hear it." Cassana sighed, "This is different, ser. I asked you to do this. I feel responsible. You don't have to say anything you don't want to, but I need to make sure you're alright."

Jon eyed the boatman.

"Oh, don't worry about Jacobs," Cassana said, turning. "Jacobs! We'd like privacy."

"Aye, princess," Jacobs said, pulling a lever beside the wheel. A cloth curtain rose around the bottom half of the boat.

"What-"

Cassana extended a hand, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Jon did not hesitate with his answer, though he did pause about taking her hand.

But he did.

"Whenever my ladies and I wish to be discreet and speak without being overheard," Cassana said, gingerly stepping onto the boat and leading him to the bow, "Jacobs opens that small sail. And then we sit…. right here. This ledge is low enough where we can even dip our feet in the water. See?"

The farther King's Landing fell away behind her, the lighter Cassana felt. The royal barge wasn't meant to handle the open seas, but for a moment, she wondered how much better she would feel on the other side of the world.

It was then Cas realised how completely and utterly she failed to heed her brother's and ladies' warnings. All other thoughts fled when she saw Jon upset. She wanted to cheer him, to see him smile, and now she was stuck on a boat with him, one lone boatman away from being completely alone.

"You don't have to tell me anything."

Jon turned his head, "I thought curiosity is why you dragged me on the boat in the first place?"

"Curiosity? No, I would never presume-" then she heard the second half of his sentence.

Cassana narrowed her eyes, "Dragged?"

Jon's lip quivered, and then he was laughing, full and loud. The kind of laugh that was rare for him.

Cassana drank in his laughter like wine, and then she was laughing too, feeling absurdly grateful for the ease between them.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the waves foam and crest, admiring the small islands that were hardly more than heaps of sand with a smattering of trees.

"You were right."

"More often than not," Cassana smiled. "What was I right about this time?"

"I feel peace." Jon kicked at the waves, "Don't mistake me, I feel a great many other things as well, but…peace is definitely one of them."

"I'm glad."

Jon eyed her. "You're desperate to know, aren't you?"

Cas winced, "Am I that obvious?"

"Only a little."

"Forgive me." Cassana watched the waves dance. "I've always known exactly where I come from, where everyone around me comes from… the thought of not knowing, of living a life completely of one's own, is quite exciting."

"Exciting?"

"You're not bound by any expectations. You are who you are."

"Perhaps I shall keep it a mystery for your amusement."

Cassana smiled, "Whichever you prefer. I meant what I said earlier. Either way, I will be here for you."

The sun sank lower toward the horizon, the world turning pink. That must have been the reason for the pink in Jon's cheeks.

"My lady," Jon's eyes were silver in the light of the dying sun, "I-"

Cassana slammed into Jon's shoulder as a rough wave hit the boat.

Saltwater and seafoam filled the air as Cassana slipped from the ledge with a gasp, her fingers desperately reaching for her knight, and she plunged into the bay.


Cassana spluttered, her throat aching as she coughed up half of Blackwater Bay.

Above was the darkening sky, and Jon's face, looking down on her with tears in his eyes.

"Thank the gods," Jon breathed, "thank the gods."

"Ser?" Cas rasped through an aching throat. She went to sit up, but her upper body burned, as if someone had been dancing on her chest. "What happened?"

Jon wasn't listening, "How can a princess not know how to swim?"

"What?"

"All the riches in the world!" Jon was fuming, though the fact that he was soaking wet made his rant almost comical. "For gods' sake, my lady, you live in a castle overlooking the sea. How-!"

"I know how to swim!"

"Oh, forgive me," Jon said, sounding very little like he cared for her forgiveness, "you sinking link a stone, and me dragging you half a league to the nearest beach, made me think otherwise."

Cassana tried to remember the feeling of slipping beneath the waves, her arms and legs pushing toward the surface, her skirts billowing around her…

"It was my damn dress," Cassana realised. "You try swimming with an anchor around your waist!"

Jon's anger flickered, and something else took its place. "I thought you were dead."

"I would have been if it wasn't for you." Cassana brushed aside her wet hair. "You've saved me yet again. Perhaps this time my father will reward you better."

"I did not do it for him."

He had said something similar in the wolfswood, though it felt different this time.

Jon did not give her time to dwell on it.

"Night is upon us." He stood, eyeing the horizon. "We need fire and shelter. I'll build a small fire behind the treeline. Doubtless they will send ships to find you, but we can't risk being found by someone less friendly in the meantime. For shelter…" he glanced at the paltry supplies he had on hand. "Perhaps I can tie some palm leaves together. Do you have any ribbons?"

Cassana pulled a few golden ones from her hair.

"Perfect. Wait here."

"What?" Cassana shot to her feet. "I want to help."

"Can you build a fire?" Jon asked. "Or pitch a tent?"

"Well…no, but if you taught me-"

Jon pointed at the sun where it sank below the sea. "We don't have time. We're wearing wet clothes. We'll freeze and fall sick if we don't hurry."

"Very well." Cassana felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. "I'll stay out of your way."

Cassana did not want to sit on the beach on her own, so she watched Jon work, his brows drawn together as he used all his focus. He tossed aside his wet doublet and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt, and Cas stared at the skill of his hands. Her own seemed soft and weak in comparison.

Watching Jon prepare, light and stoke the fire, watching him peel branches from trees and bind them with her ribbons, Cassana had never felt more useless. She could recite poetry, sing like a lark and paint the sunset they had just enjoyed from memory, but she could not survive one night on her own.

By the time he was done, the stars were out in full. Cassana didn't realize she was cold until the sea breeze made her shiver.

Jon noticed. "Take off your dress."

Cassana's stomach dropped, "What?"

Jon's words dawned on him. "You'll never dry with that dress on," he said quickly. "You can lay it here by the fire. Don't ladies wear thin dresses underneath their clothes?"

"Do you mean a shift?"

"I don't know what it's called."

Cassana crossed her arms. "It's called a shift, and yes I have one, but I've never worn one-" in front of a man, she wanted to say, but instead said, "outside of my bedchambers."

Jon tended to the fire, though it seemed to need no more attention. "It's just a dress, and I can't have you freeze to death because of embarrassment."

"As you wish," Cassana said, her fingers reaching for the back of her dress and tugging at the strings. After a moment or two, she realised, "I need help."

Jon's hand fumbled as he dropped the stick he'd been using to stoke the fire.

"I usually have a lady to help me undress," the more she spoke, the more her cheeks warmed, "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't-"

"I'll do it."

Cassana pushed her hair over her shoulder and out of his way. She felt nothing but the occasional light pulls as Jon fingers worked over her. She found a pink seashell in her line of sight near the fire and focused her eyes on it, pretending it was Myranda or Jeyne behind her.

Though Myranda and Jeyne would have been done in moments, and they definitely would not have sworn under their breath as much as Jon did.

After the third or fourth one, Cas couldn't help herself. She chuckled.

"What?"

"Mind your words, ser. We may be stranded on a deserted island, but that's no excuse to start swearing like a sailor."

"Why is it so complicated?" Jon's words were tense with frustration and concentration, so much so that she laughed again. "Armour is easier to take off than this."

He sighed, and she felt his breath on the back of her neck and shuddered.

"There."

Cassana turned, her hands holding her dress up. "Now turn around."

Jon did, though he said, "Am I meant to keep my eyes from you until we're rescued?"

"If I command it." Cassana let her dress fall and stepped out of it.

"It could take weeks."

He meant it as a jest, but Cas hadn't considered that.

"Do you truly think so? What if we die of thirst? Of starvation?"

Jon's back relaxed, "Princess, I swear to you, we will get off this island one way or another."

"Dead or alive, you mean."

"No, not dead-" Jon stiffened. "This is ridiculous, I can't speak with you like this. May I turn around?"

Cas hesitated, but figured survival was more important than her pride.

"Yes."

When he did, Jon kept his eyes on her face, refusing to look anywhere else. "As I suspected, just a dress."

Her shift was far thinner and cut far lower than any dress she owned, but she appreciated his words anyway.

Jon stepped closer. "We will get off this island alive, princess. I will keep you safe, no matter the cost."

Cas saw the determination in his jaw, the sincerity in his eyes, and did not doubt him.

"I trust you, ser."

Jon's lip curved. "I should hope so."

"Though it does feel strange, you calling me princess when it's just the two of us so far from court."

"As does you calling me ser. Makes me feel as old as Ser Barristan."

Cassana smiled, and extended her hand, "Cassana. Pleased to meet you."

Jon's smile grew, and his hand gripped hers firmly, "Pleased to meet you, Cassana. I'm Jon."

It was strangely sweet, the way he said her name. Cas hadn't expected him to take so swiftly to her suggestion.

"We should get some rest," Jon said, taking his hand back. "Your tent is prepared."

"My tent?" Cas frowned when she beheld the small structure made of palms. It indeed only looked big enough for one person to sleep comfortably.

Jon misunderstood her tone. "It's no Red Keep, I know, but it's all I could do."

"No, it's not…I'm grateful, truly. But where will you sleep?"

Jon gestured to a patch of sand at the mouth of the tent.

"And what if it rains?"

"We have bigger problems than a bit of rain. I'll sleep under the stars."

"Jon…"

"Cassana."

Her lips pressed together in a line. "You're not going to yield, are you?"

"You know me so well."

Cassana grumbled as she crawled into the makeshift tent. The palm leaves kept the worse of the breeze outside, and Jon had placed leaves down for bedding. She hadn't realised how tired she was until she laid down and was vaguely aware of Jon doing the same just outside.

Cassana Baratheon, princess of the Seven Kingdoms, fell asleep to the soothing sounds of crashing waves, flickering flames, and the gentle breathing of her sworn sword.


Cassana woke up alone.

For a moment, she panicked. Jon would never abandon her, therefore something terrible must have happened. Perhaps pirates had stolen in the middle of the night and hurt him, or-

As Cas sat up at the tent's mouth, she froze.

Jon was bathing in the sea, and she could see his dark hair floating amongst the waves. She cursed herself for being so easily afraid as he stood and returned to camp.

Beneath his shirt, Jon was more muscular than she thought he would be. She supposed he did train daily, rigorously-

"Parched?"

"Hm?"

"Would you like some water?"

Cassana's mouth was awfully dry. "Yes, with thanks."

Jon extended a hand to help her rise.

"It's not much," he admitted, showing her the small handful of freshwater at the end of a palm leaf he had left upturned in the night, "but we'll survive. And I'll have a look around this island for any food."

"What can I do?"

Jon shrugged. "Whatever you please. If you'd like to go for a swim, or rest in the shade-"

Cas grit her teeth.

"Cassana?"

"Is that all you think me capable? I want to help you. Not just sit around like I did last night." When he didn't respond, she said, "I'm not useless."

Jon frowned. "I never said you were."

"But you thought it." When his mouth opened, doubtless to argue with her, Cassana held up her hands. "And I don't blame you. I never learned how to start a fire or pitch a tent, but I…" she straightened her spine, "Tell me how I can be of use." When she realised how royal she sounded, she added, "Please."

Perhaps it was the way she asked it, or how ridiculous she must have looked with her hair loose around her face, wearing nothing but her shift, but Jon fought a smile.

"Here."

Jon tossed her a long stick, which she just managed to catch.

"You're going to stand in the shallow water and try to spear fish for lunch."

Cas glanced down to the end, which Jon had shaved down to a point with his dagger. She gripped the spear tightly.

"Prepare to have your fill of fish."

The first thing Cas learned was that fish were quick. Far quicker than she'd thought they'd be, their silver scales flashing as they darted around her almost mockingly. The second thing she learned was her skirt limited her ability to sneak quietly, and so she raised it to her thigh, twisted, and tucked so her legs were left bare. The third? Her aim was atrocious.

"Come on," she moaned, her spear once again missing its mark. It must have been a few hours since Jon had left her to her own devices, and she had nothing to show for it but some blisters on her palms and a flush on her cheeks and arms from exposure to the sun.

Cassana took a deep breath, and steadied the spear over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the shallow water around her.

A flash of silver.

A throw.

Cas held her breath as she approached the upright spear. She gasped when she saw the fish struggle against the point.

"Yes!" Cassana cried in triumph, laughing like a mad woman. She twisted the spear to ensure the fish wouldn't slip away and held her prize up for the world to see.

"Cassana?"

"Jon!" Cas splashed through the waves toward the sand, where Jon stood looking incredibly amused. "I caught one!"

Jon was laughing now. "Not bad for-"

Cassana was so overjoyed with her fish that she didn't think twice about throwing her arms around Jon's neck.

It wasn't until she noticed that Jon was as frozen as a statue that she released him and waved the spearpoint. "See?"

Jon blinked, and shook his head. "Not bad for your first time."

Once the fish was cooked by the fire, Cassana mimicked how Jon tore and ate it with his bare hands. Juice dribbled down her chin and got under her nails, but the pleasure she took in enjoying the fruits of her labour was far greater than any discomfort. Jon had managed to find a few fruit trees on his explorations, so they nibbled on some of that as well.

"What shall we do afterward?"

Jon wiped a hand on his leg. "Whatever you'd like. You could catch another fish for dinner or explore the island yourself, though there isn't much to it."

Cassana's eyes fell to the dagger Jon had left half buried in the sand. She remembered the night in the wolfswood, and how utterly helpless she had been then too.

"Teach me how to use it."

Jon followed her gaze, snapping back to her when he realised. "No."

"Why not?"

"I can't teach you weaponry without your father's permission. It wouldn't be right."

"In a matter of days, I won't have to answer to my father anymore."

"No, you'll have to answer to your husband," Jon conceded, "though we can't know if he would be happy with this either."

Cassana had no words. Margaery had called the next step in her life a new beginning, but she was just trading one master for another.

The thought made her sick.

Jon's gaze locked on something over her shoulder. "A ship. A ship!"

He stood and ran past her.

"Jon, wait!" She grabbed his wrist with more strength than she knew she had.

He tried to pull his arm free, but she held it tight.

"What are you doing?" Jon looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "This is our chance-"

"Just listen to me."

"Help!" Jon waved his free arm, "We're-"

Cassana clapped a hand over his mouth. "Jon! Please, listen-"

"This is our chance-!"

"I can't return to court!"

Jon glanced at the ship as it sailed across the bay, but he faced her. "Cassana-"

"I'm not ready." Cas pulled him behind the treeline in the hope the ship might not yet have spotted them. "Please, I need more time."

"I know you must be feeling scared-"

Cas couldn't help the flash of irritation at his words. "Please don't pretend to understand."

The irritation was now mutual.

"Do you truly believe you are the only person in the world whose life is not their own?"

Cassana released him, staring. "I…I've never-"

I've never thought of anyone except myself.

That realisation choked her with shame.

Jon, as usual, was able to know her mind without words. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, his voice soft. "I wish it were otherwise, but this is how the world is. We do our duty. That's all we can do."

Cas swallowed. "A day. That's all I ask."

"Cassana-"

"We're both right. Soon I won't have to answer to my father, but I will have to answer to my husband. For a moment, for just one day, I want to answer to no one but myself."

Jon hesitated, glancing once more at the ship. "What if they don't come back?"

Cassana looked to the ship, wondering if her father or brother was on it. "They'll keep searching," Cassana knew. "My family will never stop looking for me."

"If something happens to you because I let this ship go," Jon looked ill, "I'd never forgive myself. My duty is to keep you safe."

"I know," Cas breathed. "I know what I am asking, but I must ask it. Please, Jon. Please."

Jon looked between her eyes, his resolve slipping.

After a few moments, he sighed deeply. "As you will."

Cas released a breath of her own. "Thank you. I will not forget this."

Jon crossed his arms, his mouth twisting. "I'll have to a think of a way you can show your gratitude."

Cassana bit back a laugh. "Surely the satisfaction of a job well done is enough?"

"I fear not. A castle might do."

Cassana laughed. "A castle?"

"Might do," Jon stressed. "Surely Prince Elio can afford it."

She looked away.

Jon winced, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I know," Cassana attempted a smile. "Let's not speak of court. I have one day, and I know exactly how I want to spend it."


"Tighter."

"Like this?"

"No." His reached out and adjusted her fingers. "Here. You need to work on your grip."

"We've been doing this for hours," Cas said impatiently. "When am I meant to show signs of improvement?"

"Did you mean to become a master in a matter of hours? It comes with years of training, diligent practice-"

Cassana placed a hand on her hip. "I'm not trying to become a master. The next time my life is threatened," she held up the dagger, "I want to be able to defend myself."

Jon's eyes fell to her collarbone. After a moment, he went to stand before her. "The heart is your best chance." He grabbed her wrist and lightly led her to place the point of the dagger against his shirt. "Strike hard and true, with all your strength. Time is against you. You need to land the killing blow before he has time to overpower you."

Cassana swallowed. The casual way Jon spoke about killing a man made her mouth dry. "I thought the neck-"

"It's a smaller target. You may miss and injure him, which will only make him angrier." Jon pointed to a spot on this thigh, "If you can't reach the chest, slash here as deep as you can. He'll die in minutes."

Without another word, Jon disappeared into the trees and returned with a short stick. He handed it to her and spread his arms wide.

"Strike me."

Cas raised a brow. "This is a stick."

"Pretend it's a dagger."

Cassana held it the way he taught her and lunged for his chest.

Jon sidestepped her, grabbing her wrist and whirling her away in a way that reminded her of a courtly dance. Though unlike a courtly dance, he pinned her to his chest, the stick pressed against her own throat.

"Dead." His voice was deadpan in her ear.

Cassana struggled, but Jon's grip was iron.

"Why do you even want to learn all this?"

Cas sighed, resigned. "In the wolfswood, before you arrived, I… I could have died. Or worse. I know I'll never be stronger, but I'd rather die bravely, like a knight." She turned her head to meet his eyes, her nose almost brushing his. "Like you."

Jon's grip loosened on her, but neither moved. His eyes fell to her collarbone once more.

"What are you looking at?"

Jon blinked, stepping back. "What?"

"Do I have something on my neck?" Cassana brushed the spot with her fingers.

"It's…don't you see it?"

"See what?"

"The scar they gave you. That night."

Cas frowned, "It faded away."

"It's faint," Jon admitted, "but whenever I see it… I think of that night, and how I failed you."

"You saved me," said Cassana, confused. "And even if you hadn't, you weren't my sworn sword. It wasn't your fault."

Jon looked back to the dagger in the sand. "If you want to learn, I will teach you. Every day if you ask it of me."

"And if my husband objects?"

"I don't serve your husband. I serve you."

That twisted her stomach. "You deserve more."

"I truly don't."

With that, he walked onto the beach.

"Jon," she called at his back. He didn't turn back. "Jon!"

It seemed he considered the conversation over.

But she did not.

Sighing, she followed him.

Jon walked into the sea, the waves lapping at his calves. She stopped at the shoreline, waiting. What for, she did not know, but she could almost hear the turmoil roiling in his heart. She had a dark suspicion she knew what was truly bothering him but did not want to pressure him into trusting her with the knowledge.

Jon turned to her, wincing at the bright light of the afternoon sun. "I always dreamed she was highborn." He looked away, "I don't know why, but when I was a boy and thought of her, I always believed her highborn, beautiful and kind."

Cassana realised she was holding her breath.

Jon met her gaze, and her heart squeezed in her chest.

"And I was right."

A beat.

Jon watched her closely. "Ask me for her name."

Cas couldn't speak, so she shook her head.

Jon took a step toward her. "Do you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Then ask."

"No."

"Why not?"

Jon was right before her, a desperate look on his face.

"Because…" Why couldn't she ask? And why couldn't she breathe properly? "I want you to tell me when you're ready. When you want me to know, and not a moment sooner."

Jon fought a smile and lost. "That's kind of you."

"You're my friend."

"And you're mine." Another step. "I want to tell you, but I need you to ask. I need to know someone cares enough to ask, cares enough about her, about me."

The only sound in the world was the gentle sound of the waves kissing the shore. That, and the steady heartbeat in her ears.

Cassana took a deep breath, "Jon?"

"Yes?" he breathed, his eyes steady and sure on her face.

"Who is your mother?"

Jon's lip trembled, and he breathed in deep.

"Ashara Dayne."

His face was still for a moment, and then it crumpled, his knees giving way as he fell to the sand.

Cassana fell with him, her arms wrapped around him tight as he sobbed into her shoulder.

She had to fight tears of her own, for she knew the story. The lady Ashara Dayne had heard of her brother's death after Robert's Rebellion and threw herself from Starfall's highest tower.

Jon's mother was long dead.

"My father confessed to it all," Jon sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "He and my mother fell in love at the Tourney of Harrenhal and in the privacy of his tent…"

"You don't have to say it."

Jon shook his head, as if she got something wrong. "They were handfasted."

"What does that mean?"

"It's an ancient northern tradition. He pledged himself. He wanted to marry her at once but needed to arrange it with their fathers. But then the rebellion began. My uncle was murdered, my father forced to marry Lady Catelyn instead, the war waged, all the while my mother carried me in Dorne. When my father arrived, married to another, to return her dead brother's sword, my mother grieved her brother, her love, her ruined future, and she…she-"

Jon collapsed on her shoulder.

Cassana could offer no words of comfort. She could think of nothing to lessen his pain or ease his suffering. She could only sit on the sand and listen.

Guilt rose in her chest as she realised. "This is my fault."

Jon's eyes were red raw. "What?"

"It was my idea to ask your father." A tear escaped. "I can't bear to see you like this. I'm so sorry, I'm-"

"You're sorry?" Jon's voice cracked. When he saw her wet cheek, his hand rose to wipe her tear away. "Cassana, as much as my heart aches, I would have known eventually. You are not to blame. My father loved my mother and wanted to marry her. The war ruined many lives and took more away. I…I am luckier than most. There has always been a hole in my chest, in my life, and now I can fill it with joy. Now I can heal, just as you said."

Cassana's lip curved. "I should have known."

"Known what?"

"That you were half Dornish." Cas bit back a smile. "They're as notoriously stubborn as northerners are humourless. And you are the most stubbornly humourless man I have ever met."

Jon's jaw dropped, and he gave her an incredulous look.

Cassana's smile dipped, worried for a moment that she had offended him in his hour of-

Jon doubled over himself in laughter.

It was the sweetest sound Cassana had ever heard.

Jon laughed so hard he fell to his back on the sand, his face reddening like an apple. She joined him, laughing, the two of them looking between the sky and each other, laughing anew each time they met each other's eyes.

"Cassana Baratheon," Jon's voice was soft, wistful, "you are a wonder to me."

She turned her head, watching his face as he admired the pinking sky. A quiet realisation came over her.

"Jon Snow," she muttered, "you are my dearest friend."

Jon turned his face to hers. He reached for her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips, "And you are mine."

Cassana squeezed his fingers, "Would you like to meet your Dornish family?"

Jon sat up. "What?"

"Lord Dayne is a boy of twelve," Cassana said, sitting up as well, brushing the sand from her hair, "but he is your cousin. He may be too young to remember your mother, but the lady Allyria is still alive. Your aunt. Maybe she could tell you more of her."

Jon's eyes bored into her face, so intense was his gaze that she almost had to look away.

"Would…" Once again she was finding it difficult to breathe. "Would that please you?"

"Please me?" Jon breathed. "That would mean more to me than you could ever know."

Cas smiled. "Then it's decided. When we return to court, I'll see to the arrangements."

Though they were only in Blackwater Bay, King's Landing felt very far away. Until she mentioned court.

Jon released her hand. She had forgotten he was holding it.

"It will be dark soon," he said as he stood. "We should eat and get some rest."

Cassana nodded, following him back to camp. They nibbled on whatever berries Jon had managed to find in comfortable silence.

Until she said, "Thank you for teaching me how to wield a blade."

Jon raised his brows, "I wouldn't say your training is complete, but…you're welcome."

"You've done so much for me," Cas gestured to the campfire, the tent, the food, "I wish I could do something for you."

"You needn't worry about that. I have more than enough."

"I wish…" Cas shook her head, "I wish I could teach you something, but all I know is frivolity and-"

"-Cassana-"

"useless, vain-"

"I-" Jon grimaced, looking like he'd swallowed something sour, "I know what you can teach me."

Cassana raised a brow, "Whatever it is, you don't sound very keen to learn it."

"I…" Jon took a deep sigh, steeling himself, "Cassana Baratheon, I would be honoured if you could teach me how to..."

His last word was mumbled, lost in the wind.

"What?"

"How to…" Jon shuddered, "…dance."

Cassana just looked at him for a long, quiet moment.

And then she tipped back her head and laughed.

Laughed longer and louder and deeper than she had in a long while.

Jon's lips trembled in an attempt to look affronted, but he was laughing too. "What is so funny? I thought this would please you!"

Cassana swallowed her laughter, "Oh, nothing would please me more Jon, as I can't imagine a singular activity that would make you more uncomfortable."

"My discomfort pleases you?"

Cassana stood, extending her hand, "Nothing would please me more."

Jon took her hand, standing. "I was hoping you would be merciful."

"You should know me better than that by now."

Jon smiled, his eyes at her feet, "I should, shouldn't I?"

Cassana straightened, "Now, it will be difficult without musicians and the proper flooring or shoes, but we'll make do."

"That's a relief."

"Shut up, Jon."

Jon's lip quivered, "Yes, ma'am."

His words were a bolt of lightning across her skin. Cas ignored the heat in her face as she said, "Take my waist, and my hand."

Jon's smirk vanished, determination settling in its place.

His hand snaked to her back, the other to her warm palm.

The heat in her face only burned hotter.

Cas attributed it to the heat of the fire beside them as she lifted their joined hands. "It's customary for the lord to lead the lady, but as I'm teaching, I'll lead a few times. And then you can try. How does that sound?"

Jon didn't speak, only nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Good. Let's begin."

It was harder than she thought it would be. Jon's natural grace in the sparring ring did not extend to the dancefloor. He stepped on her feet more than once, apologising each time, his face growing redder. Cas assured him it was fine each time, even after a particular painful stomp that had tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Slowly, so slowy, the stomping stopped. Jon began to lead, rather than follow, Cas around the fire in time to the music in her head.

It made her smile, "You've got it."

"I had a good teacher."

Cassan's ears warmed. "Why dancing?"

"I never learned how, and you…" Jon met her eyes, "you seem happy when you dance. It's not frivolous, useless or vain. It's joy and beauty and…you."

Cassana's feet stopped moving. She only stared up at him, her chest so full she could not move, could not name the feeling. There was only Jon before her, his arm around her waist, his hand in hers, but it was not enough. Not enough to show him how much he had come to mean to her.

Achingly slowly, Cassana freed her hand from Jon's grip, placing it gently against his cheek.

Jon's eyes searched hers, thought what they looked for she did not know.

After a moment, he relaxed, leaning into her palm with a sigh, eyes closed. His fingers rose to grip her hand, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.

Cas never wanted to move, too afraid to breathe for fear of breaking the spell. It was so simple, so innocent, but something in her mind was on edge. She was in danger, though from what she could not say.

When Jon opened his eyes, grey like Valyrian steel in the darkness, Cassana's breath hitched.

Perhaps it was in her imagination, but Cas could have sworn Jon leaned forward.

But she must have imagined it, because Jon stepped back.

"We should sleep," he said, his voice hoarse.

Cas nodded, not quite able to reply.

Though when Cassana went into her small tent, she found it harder to sleep that night than the night before. She must have fallen asleep at some point, as she dreamed of a tower by the sea, and a wailing young woman with dark hair and purple eyes so distraught that she ran to the balcony and leapt, the rocky shore rising to meet her and-

Cassana sat up with a gasp, her chest rising and falling with her thumping heart. Her nightmare was so jarring that it took her a moment to hear the soft patter of rain.

Rain?

"Jon!" Cassana moved to the end of the tent, where Jon was lying on his side, the rain falling on him.

"Jon?"

He looked over his should at her. "Is it dry in there?"

"More so than out here." Cassana looked about. "Come inside."

"I can't."

"Honestly," Cas snapped, "I appreciate chivalry as much as the next maiden, but don't be a fool."

"Go back to sleep."

"And leave you frozen and shivering? I think not. Come inside."

"Cassana-"

"Jon bloody Snow, I am ordering you to come inside at this very moment."

Jon's shoulders set in a way she recognised. He was not going to yield.

"Unless you are prepared to drag me inside," Jon said, "you may as well go back to sleep."

Cassana was speechless with frustration. She knew she did not have the strength to do as he suggested, so she decided on another course.

"Very well, then," she said, exiting the tent and sitting beside him under the rain.

Jon looked alarmed, "What are you doing?"

"Being as stubborn as you are." The rain ran through her hair, falling on her face and soaking her shift. "You make it look so easy."

"Get back inside before you-"

"Freeze?" Cas asked. "Fall ill? Unless you are prepared to drag me inside, you may as well go back to sleep."

Jon shot to his feet. "And you call me stubborn!"

Cassana rose as well. "Why else would you refuse me? I'm not asking to lie with you!"

Jon's flush must have been a fearsome thing for her to see it in the dark rain.

"If your betrothed were to find out we shared a tent-"

It was Cassana's turn to blush. "I am not betrothed!"

"Prince Elio-"

"-is not my intended!"

The fierceness in her voice shocked them both.

The rain continued to fall on their heads and soak them through, but Cas only watched Jon grapple with her words, confused.

"He is the best choice."

"Because he is comely, rich and charming? He's a far cry better than most suitors, I grant you, and his kiss is not…wholly unpleasant, but that doesn't mean I want to marry him."

Jon's jaw flexed. "He kissed you."

"He wanted to see if I was a wife worth dying for."

"If he needed a kiss to prove that, he is not worthy of you."

The conviction in his voice made her chest tighten. For a moment, she didn't know what to say.

Cas settled on, "Not everyone is as chivalrous as you."

She meant it in play, but she had never heard herself sound more sincere.

Jon held her gaze.

"Besides," she said, "there's still the melee."

"The Prince of Pentos himself would have to win the melee to be a better choice than a Prince of Dorne."

"I don't love him."

Jon's brows drew together. "When has love ever been an option?"

"It…" the rain was making it hard to think. Or was it the ache in her chest that simply would not relent? "Never. It never has, but-"

"Everyone is thrilled with the match except you!" Jon seemed to want to get to the root of the problem now. "You can say nothing against him, yet you are not happy."

"I don't want him."

"Then what do you want, dare I ask?" Jon crossed his arms. "If a Prince of Dorne cannot satisfy you, I shudder to think what you expect from your husband."

"Someone clever," Even as she said it, her words felt hollow, "and kind."

"Clever and kind? Come now, Cassana, you can do better than that."

For some reason, she felt tears prick at her eyes. She was grateful for the rain then.

Cassana could not think with Jon looking at her like that, so she closed her eyes and asked herself.

What do I truly want?

"I want someone who makes me laugh." With her eyes closed, she let her tongue run free, the metallic taste of rain on her lips. "Someone who respects me and my interests, who values my judgment and enjoys my company. Someone I look forward to seeing every day, no matter how much time passes." Cas found herself smiling like a fool, her stomach fluttering at the thought of the man she was imagining. "Someone who trusts me with his whole heart, who loves me as deeply and as fiercely as I love him."

She allowed her eyes to flutter open, and she saw-

Jon.

"I want-"

Jon.

Oh.

Oh.

Cold realization poured down her neck, and Cassana felt all the blood in her replaced with ice. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the world, and for a moment she felt like the lightning had struck her.

What a fool she had been, when for so many months, for so long…

Jon.

It was Jon.

Jon often knew her mind from a look, and when he saw her face then, his own paled.

"Cas."

It was almost a warning, but for the first time, she heard the longing beneath.

How long had it been there?

And…it was the first time he had called her Cas.

Cassana let her feet carry her forward as she surged into his arms.

Jon grabbed her face in his hands and brought his lips crashing to hers.

Cas felt her knees turn to water as she melted into him. It was as if she had been blindly stumbling in the dark, and the sun itself had been before her, waiting for her to simply open her eyes and see him.

The joy was too much for the both of them. They fell to their knees, clutching each other tight.

"Cas," Jon whispered in her ear, his hand grasping a fistful of her hair to pull her close. "My lady, my love."

His words caused a storm in her greater than the one that swirled around them. She clutched his face in her hands and kissed his lips, which opened for her.

The memory of Elio's kiss in the dark felt dull and lifeless. That embrace paled in comparison to being in Jon's arms. That had been a gust of wind, and now she found herself thrown into a raging storm.

"How long have you known?" she asked him.

Jon smiled, and Cas could not believe it took her so long to realise how handsome he was.

"I have denied it from the first, but I think a part of me always knew. You?"

"About a minute."

Jon laughed, "And what a glorious minute it's been."

Cas laughed with disbelief, and tucked a dark curl behind his ear. "I feel like a caul has been ripped from my eyes. Wait a moment, is this why you refused to share the tent with me?"

Jon closed his eyes with a groan, "I was holding on by a tether. To sleep beside you…" he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I don't have the will to refuse you."

Cassana's hands were shaking, but she said, "Then don't."

Jon's eyes darkened, and then his lips were on hers once more, his hands reaching and lifting her to the tent.

In the warm darkness, away from the rain, Cas heard every sound: wet clothes against sand and skin, Jon's heavy breaths, the sound of her hands running through his hair. She was one moment, one movement, away from ruin, but it did not feel like ruin. It felt like salvation.

When Jon hesitated above her, at once she knew why.

"I can't," Jon murmured.

Cassana smiled, a hand on his cheek, "I know. You have too much honour in you for that."

"As do you," said Jon. "If you thought a moment about this, you wouldn't want this, either."

Cassana bit her lip, knowing he was right. She knew this was madness and worse than madness. She would be betraying and shaming her family.

But the way Jon held her now… It was enough for her to say, "Perhaps want is not the right word." She reached forward and held his face in her hands. "Because I want you. I'm only sorry it took me so long to see that."

Jon's eyes fell to her lips. "There are no words for how much I want you, Cas. And as for my honour?" His grip on her tightened, his eyes trailing down. "A part of me wishes I did not care for it."

As she laughed, he laid down beside her, extending an arm for her to lay her head.

Cassana couldn't believe how natural it felt to lie beside him. To hold his hand tight in hers. With his other he traced invisible patterns on the skin of her arm. They laid there, staring at the canopy above.

Jon turned his face to hers and said the very thing she was wondering.

"What now?"

Cas placed a hand on his chest, the answer as simple as it was terrifying. "Run away with me."

"Oh?" Jon didn't seem surprised by the notion. He reached forward and wrapped a golden curl around his finger. "And where would we go?"

"Anywhere our hearts desire," Cassana said, feeling the damp fabric of his shirt. "I could take enough gold and jewels from my chambers to last us a lifetime. I've always wanted to see the white sands of Lys."

"We'd never see our families again."

Cas winced, his words striking her like a blow. "The thought grieves me."

"And me."

"As does a lifetime of misery. Of a life half lived, with a husband forcing himself upon me until I bear enough sons to satisfy him."

Rage flashed on Jon's face. "I would never let that happen. My duty is to protect you."

"Yes," Cas said sadly, "but not from him. If we return to King's Landing, that is my fate."

"I will think of another way. I swear it."

Cassana didn't want to dwell on sadness. Not when she was in the arms of a young man who loved her, of one she loved in return. Instead, she leaned down and kissed him, soft and sweet.

Jon's eyes were dazed when she pulled away, as if he had just awoken from the sweetest dream.

"Handfast."

Cassana's breath hitched in her throat. "What?" she breathed, certain that she had heard wrong.

She hadn't.

Jon sat up. "I want to pledge myself to you."

"You're already my sworn sword," Cassana said. "How many more oaths do you want to make?"

Jon leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. "For you, I would swear every oath ever said."

His words made her heart flutter in her chest. "Your mother and father did the same, and-"

"Their fate is not ours," Jon's voice was absolute. "I will think of a way to be together, but I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?"

"More than anyone."

Jon smiled, extending a hand.

She took it.

Kneeling before each other, Jon ripped the edge of his shirt. Cassana watched closely as he lifted her hand, and as he began to gently wrap the wet fabric around their palms.

"I, Jon Snow, do take thee, Cassana Baratheon, to be my wife."

With her free hand, Cas placed her hand atop his and squeezed. She half expected his hands to be shaking with nerves, but they were calm and steady and sure.

"With my goods, I thee endow." His brow twitched, "Not that there's much of that."

Cassana bit back a laugh.

Jon's eye grew serious, his voice a low rasp. "With my body, I thee worship. In sickness and in health. In richness and in poverty. So long as we both shall live. I plight thee my troth."

Cassana's heart was thumping against her chest at his words, at his look, at the knowledge that this was how her new life was starting. On a tiny island in Blackwater Bay, lost to the world, but found in the way that mattered.

"I, Cassana Baratheon, take thee, Jon Snow, to be my husband." She paused a moment, trying to remember his words. "With my goods, I thee endow. With my body, I thee worship. In sickness and in health. In richness and in poverty. So long as we both shall live."

Jon leaned forward and whispered. "I plight…"

Cassana shook her head with a smile, "I plight thee my troth."

"In sight of, well, us…" Jon said, his smile swallowing the rest of his face. "I know pronounce us-"

They said the next words together.

"Man and wife."

Cassana and Jon smiled at each other like fools, like newly-weds, and kissed, joyous and hopeful at what the future would bring.


Author's Note

Thanks for your views and favourites everyone! If you like this story, please leave a review.

I always wanted to write an 'Oh. Oh.' scene, haha, so this was fun for me!

See you soon!

Rose