Chapter VII

The Decision

"He should not be here," Ser Arnold fumed before the assembled council. "He did not win the melee."

"The melee was interrupted," the queen said, her eyes shining at her daughter. "The king and I have declared the two of you joint victors. Our decision is final."

Your life will not be easy, her mother had warned, her voice laced with concern. You must be sure. Do you love him?

More than anything, Cassana had said. With everything I am.

The queen had sighed deeply, but there was a twinkle in her eye as she said, As you wish, you wilful child.

I wonder who I get it from…

It had been years since Cassana remembered her mother laughing so hard.

The knight grumbled, but the king did not notice. He only spoke from his chair at the centre of the privy council chambers.

"For weeks, the men of the realm have fought for the hand of my eldest daughter, Princess Cassana of House Baratheon." His blue eyes found hers. "No man is worthy of her, but I suppose every father thinks so about his daughter."

Tears pricked at Cassana's eyes, but she pushed them down.

Now was not the time for tears.

"Four men have risen above the rest. The choice now belongs to the princess." His eyes twinkled. "Choose wisely."

Cassana turned to the four men before her.

How different they were, in appearance and in the lives they each offered her.

Every part of her yearned to throw herself in Jon's arms, despite the crutch he was leaning on and his bandaged side, but these men had risked their lives for her, and so she pretended to give each their due consideration.

Littlefinger, with his watery green eyes that always looked at her like a cyvasse piece…that was the easiest no.

"My Lord Baelish," It was Princess Cassandra who spoke, not Cas. "I am honoured to have been considered a worthy wife for you, but sadly, I must decline your suit."

"The honour was mine, princess," Baelish bowed low, though she noted the stiffness in his back, the embarrassment of such a public refusal. She knew the other councillors would tease him mercilessly about this but found she felt he very much deserved it.

"Ser Arnold," she began, "you-"

"Princess," the knight shifted his feet with nerves, but held her gaze. "You don't have to say another word. After the melee, I believe I know your choice." He bowed low, "It was an honour to fight for your hand. I only wish…circumstances were different."

All heard the words he did not say.

I only wish it was a fair fight.

"Thank you, ser."

Cassana looked at the two suitors.

Prince Elio and Jon Snow looked back.

"I'm sure the melee and the tourney winners will be dashing young men so handsome it will be impossible to choose between them."

Her mother's words came winding back. Cassana wanted to laugh at how right she had been, but also how wrong. They were handsome, no maiden could deny it, but it was far from an impossible choice.

"Prince Elio," Cas kept her voice even, which took every ounce of willpower in her. "May we speak privately?"

The prince of Dorne seems shocked by that, as if he had expected the same easy refusal she had given Lord Baelish and Ser Arnold.

"If the king wills it."

The king nodded toward the back antechamber.

As soon as the door clicked behind her, Cassana turned, "Elio-"

"You love him."

She would not lie to him.

Cas nodded.

"How long?"

"I don't know…I only realized on the island."

Elio ran his hand through his black hair, gripping tight. "I won't pretend that I…" he sighed, "I wish your choice was different."

Cassana's lip twitched, "You wish I chose Lord Baelish, don't you?"

Prince Elio's eyes snapped to hers, incredulous. Cas held his gaze, her smile growing…

And then he laughed.

Cassana laughed with him. In another life, it would have been them, she knew. She would have come to love him. She would have certainly loved Dorne, the palaces, the jewels…

All the things she was sacrificing.

As his laughter trailed, he gave her an exasperated look, "Why must you make it harder than it already is?"

Cas winced, "I'm sorry, Elio. My ladies think I'm mad for this, but…"

"Princess," Elio reached forward, took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I wish you every happiness." His grin turned wicked. "And if you'd ever like to visit me in Sunspear, you both would be very welcome."

Cassana's face blazed, but she only drew her hand back, and made a gesture she had only ever seen the household knights make to each other.

She wondered if the council outside could hear his laughter, for it filled up the room like the sweetest music.

The eyes of the realm were on Jon Snow, though he desperately wished they were not.

In the Great Hall of the Red Keep, the lords and ladies of the court kept glancing his way, whispering amongst themselves.

Jon sought solace in his family, though he feared he would get little from them.

Arya and Sansa bounded around him, assaulting him with their questions.

"How long have you loved the princess?"

"Does this mean you'll be a lord now?"

"Or will the princess be a commoner?"

"Will she take the name Snow?"

"Could you take the name Baratheon?"

"Where will you live?"

"What will you do?"

"Enough, girls," Ned Stark pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. "Give your brother some peace."

The two girls were swept away, unwillingly, by Septa Mordane.

"War was easier than daughters."

Jon cracked a smile, as did his father.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Jon."

Jon's words rose quickly, "I love her, Father. That is all that matters."

Ned's gaze pierced him, his smile fading. "And honor? Duty?"

"I have never failed in honor or duty."

"Some would say entering a tourney for the princess's hand was dishonorable. You were her sworn sword."

"There were no rules against it."

"Aye, there were not. And what will become of you both now?"

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. "The future is as much a mystery to me, as well. But I can face anything with her at my side."

Ned's lip curved, and Jon knew his father was thinking of another lady. One with dark hair and purple eyes.

"Aye, son," Ned placed a hand on Jon's shoulder. "That you can."

"Ser Jon of the Wolfswood," Princess Cassana said in the shadow of the Iron Throne before a hall ready for a feast. "I choose you for my husband and lord."

Jon leaned on his wooden crutch, but his blacks were rich, his hair clean and pushed back. He looked like a lordling rather than a knight.

"Princess Cassana," he spoke so the room could hear, but there was an intimacy in it, like he was speaking only to her, "I gladly accept your hand and take you for my lady and wife."

The room exploded with cheers, while the singers and players readied themselves for a night of dancing.

Cassana wanted to rush forward, throw her arms around him, bring his lips toward her, but the realm looked on. Instead, she only stepped forward and took his hand, squeezing.

He squeezed hers back.

They sat below the king and queen in the places of honour. They drank from the same cup, shared morsels from the same plate, pretending and failing to seem like they cared about the world around them.

"Cas…"

She almost looked over her shoulder, as if they were still hiding the truth.

"Cas, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I could have died." Jon paled. "I would have died if you hadn't saved me."

"I saved you…" Cassana mulled that thought over. "It was time I paid you back for all the times you've saved me."

Jon did not laugh. "I couldn't tell you. You would have tried to stop me, stop the melee, which you managed to do anyway. How did you know it was me?"

Cas bit back a scoff, "I would know you blind, Jon." After a moment, she said, "The wolf pommel on your sword helped."

Jon cursed himself for his stupidity.

"Enough," Cas said sharply. "Enough pain, enough bloodshed, enough worry and fear." She brough his hand to her lips and placed a lingering kiss on his knuckles. When she met his eyes, she found desire in them. "We are safe. We are together. And always will be."

"As you will."

Those knightly words of obeisance he always spoke.

"As I will?" Cas raised her brow, leaning closer. "It's the two of us now. What do you will?"

"I couldn't possibly say," Jon smiled, "but I can show you."

A shiver ran through her.

"Swear it?"

"Always." Jon swore. "Until the end of my days."

Cas brought his hand to her chest so he could feel her heartbeat. "Until the end of my days."

Jon rose, extending his hand.

Cassana took it gladly.

They danced in the centre of the hall as best they could with his injury, the other dancers falling into step beside them.

As Cassana looked at her betrothed, she thought of their future and what it would look like. The shadows under her ladies' eyes warned of poverty, of a life of struggle and hardship.

But Cassana Baratheon allowed herself to hope.

The king could make Jon a landed knight with a modest keep somewhere in the crownlands. His lands and incomes would be small, but he would be a good lord, beloved of their few smallfolk. She would make their drafty keep a home, warm and loving with her touch, with her paintings.

They would find it difficult to leave their bedchambers, especially in the beginning, and would have as many children as the Old King, with hair of black and gold, eyes of green and grey. They would be beautiful, and so very loved.

Cassana would visit her family at court often in dresses barely above what the commons could afford. Her beloved brother would smile at her from the Iron Throne, the crown upon his brow worth a thousand of their keep. Her ladies would share their time and their friendship, but there would be no talks of marriage between their children.

But when Cassana and Jon slipped into their warm bed, their children safe, asleep with full bellies, they would not find themselves wishing for any other life but theirs.

From that day in the wolfswood…

To the end of their days.

THE END

Author's Note:

Thanks everyone for your views and reviews! I loved being back in the world of Westeros.

Please be sure to leave a review if you can, and to let me know if there are any other premises / one-shots you'd think would make a good story! I've got a fun M-rated one-shot in the works, so please be sure to set an Author's Alert if you'd like to read more of my work.

All my best, always,
RMG

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