Cassana

She had once heard that it was unlucky for a bride to weep on her wedding day. She did not know if it was some ancient superstition, or just a matter of common sense.

Whether her cousin knew that idiom, Cassana did not know, but even if she did, it didn't stop Falia's tears from flowing freely down her cheeks.

Her father had died years before, so it was Baldric who led her towards her husband-to-be. Cassana stood close by the groom, so she had a full view of their approach.

Baldric was somber, even for such an occasion as this, but that was not shocking to Cassana. He had not smiled since his return to Blackhaven from the war. Now, even at a wedding ceremony, his countenance was dignified to the point of placidity. He might as well have been wearing a mask.

Falia was another matter. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and her cheeks glistened in the candlelight. It would have been alarming to all in attendance, were it not for the bright smile which lit up her face. Her eyes gazed adoringly upon the man she was set to marry.

Cassana looked to the groom. Ser Keir Hasty was staring back at his bride as if they were the only ones in Blackhaven's sept. He still looked as though he could not believe what was happening.

The wedding ought to have taken place in Keir's home, but it was still under construction. Recalling his father's knowledge and experience of Stonehelm, Keir had given his requests for what the castle should look like and contain.

It had taken some time, but Daeron had been happy to reward men who'd fought as fiercely and loyally as Keir Hasty. Lord Helos Bolling had been taken prisoner at the Battle of the Redgrass Field, as it had come to be known. For his treason, as well as his own ransom, he'd needed to pay a great price. He had been too poor to pay it in coin, so he had agreed to give up half his lands to the Crown. With this, his family had been reduced to a knightly house, even as a new house was elevated to manage their lost territory.

It was some distance from the Dornish marches, to be sure, but that was no matter. Keir Hasty was more than a worthy match for Falia Dondarrion now.

Septon Tam, shifting weight from his clubfoot, beamed as the affectionate bride and groom stood before him with clasped hands. As he began the prayers, beseeching the carved statues of the gods to bless this marriage, Cassana tried to forget that Keir and Falia were standing where Maester Gerold had breathed his last breath.

It had been a great sin, and the gods had been deeply offended. The outrages and degradations which she had endured in the war were proof of that. It was on her mind when she'd returned to Blackhaven.

The smallfolk had hailed her, desperate to prove their loyalty to House Dondarrion. Cassana had honoured those who had endured imprisonment for her family, but she had not meted out any retributions to those who hadn't. Kresimir and her seven knights had reminded her of how little choice the smallfolk had when House Swann had taken the castle.

Not even Septa Perianne was punished, though she had certainly expected it. Cassana had been astonished to find her remaining in the castle.

"I expected you to flee," she had told the stone-faced septa. "I even expected to find you dead by your own hand."

"That does not surprise me," Perianne had remarked in a cold tone. "You were ever quick to see the worst in others. How else can you live with yourself?"

Cassana had smiled, and folded her arms. "No matter." She had left it at that, much to Perianne's astonishment.

It was a week before the septa got over her pride and asked Cassana what she meant to do. "Be done with your vengeance," she had demanded, looking as if she had not slept in three days.

Cassana had restrained her urge to laugh in Perianne's face. She had instead feigned innocence, offering her a wordless blessing. "Vengeance belongs to the gods, Perianne. You ought to remember that."

If Perianne did not hate her before, she hated her now. The two of them managed to avoid saying anything to each other for weeks on end, and though Cassana thought often of finishing her off, she knew Perianne would win, and she much preferred to let her live peacefully.

"And now," Septon Tam declared, jolting Cassana from her thoughts, "the bride will relinquish her father's cloak and take that of her husband."

Baldric's fingers did not fumble as he removed the black and purple cloak from Falia's shoulders. When she smiled at him, he stretched his lips briefly before stepping away from her. As he went to Cassana's side, he returned Keir's friendly nod, even as the groom stepped forward and wrapped his own cloak about Falia.

It was a simple sigil; Keir and Koss had chosen a purple field in honour of House Dondarrion's lightning bolt. When Cassana had gently reminded them of the cost of purple dye, they added a broad white bend across the middle.

As part of Falia's dowry, Cassana had provided the brothers with several cloaks and banners with their new sigil, the best of which Keir now draped over Falia's shoulders before the septon.

She had hoped fervently for this outcome when she'd sent the Hasty brothers with Baelor, and she had made sure to remind the Crown of their heroism. A part of her wondered how much Titus had done to ensure their reward, now that he'd been inexplicably granted a seat on Daeron's small council. It left a sour note in her stomach, but it was easily forgotten as she watched her cousin happily married to the man she'd desired.

It had not been an entirely selfless decision; she would not be so naive or foolish to pretend it was such. The war had restored House Dondarrion's position in the Stormlands, and then some. Her cousins would produce the heirs of House Selmy and House Hasty. Several of the most prominent houses in the Stormlands had thrown their lot in with traitors, and now they were broken and disgraced in defeat.

Best of all was the downfall of House Swann. Cassana had almost kissed Dagnir when he told her of Alfred Swann's death. Then she had learned of the deaths of Baldric's elder brothers. Ravens had flown between her and Lord Baratheon, who had every reason to support Cassana's proposition. That done, she had ridden to Stonehelm at the first opportunity.

Lord Gawen seemed to have aged ten years since she'd last seen him. He had been spared the most serious punishments, as he had never actively fought against the Crown. But now Cassana strode into the hall and handed him a slip of paper with Lord Baratheon's seal upon it.

He seemed to age another ten years once he'd read the note. "You cannot mean this," he protested. "How can you be so cruel?"

"Cruel?" Cassana had laughed in his face. "Is it so cruel that your grandsons live with their uncle?"

"My sons are dead!" Gawen arose from his seat, gaunt from grief. "Now you claim Eward's boys for yourself?"

"Nay, Gawen," Cassana countered. "You have one son left. The best of them."

Gawen spat at Cassana's feat. "He is not my son!"

Would that that were true. "He is your son," Cassana insisted, smiling in cold triumph. "And if you wish to play any role in the future of your house, you had better recall that. Mayhaps Baldric will forgive you; he has always been more compassionate than I."

Gawen had turned his back on her to hide the tears which broke through his fury. "Leave me alone, you witch."

"Gladly," Cassana declared. "And may you spend the rest of your days alone, bereft of the son who always loved you."

She had not told Baldric of this encounter, nor did he ask after his father's health. He barely even acknowledged Eward's sons when they joined his household. Despite her vengeance against Gawen, it had unsettled her to see Baldric in such a state.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband."

Falia's voice trembled as she made this declaration to Keir, who blushed red as a turnip. When it was Keir's turn, he stumbled over the words, causing Falia to giggle at his clumsy shyness.

"In the name of the gods," Septon Tam declared solemnly, "I declare that you are one flesh, one heart, and one soul. Now and forever!"

Falia practically threw herself into Keir's arms. They kissed whilst those in attendance hailed them with applause and cheers. Even Baldric stretched his lips into a small smile as he watched.

Jocelyn stood nearby Cassana, beaming happily at her twin sister. She had celebrated her own wedding just a month before. Her arm was linked with her husband, even as he clapped his hands vigorously. Lanval Selmy had not stopped smiling since his wedding to her, or so it seemed to Cassana.

The sight of the younger couple suddenly filled Cassana with resentment, even envy. She and Baldric had reunited, and they had made love almost every night in the first few weeks after his return, but there was still an uneasiness between them. Not even her pregnancy changed things between them. It was as if there was a gap between them which neither dared to cross.

The wedding was a joyous affair, and the feast was bountiful. Baldric had personally led the hunting party which brought down an aurochs. Its meat was roasted and presented to the bride and groom.

Truthfully, it was a motley crowd which attended the wedding of Keir and Falia. Lord Lanval, the bride's goodbrother, had brought a generous entourage. Keir and Koss had no family left beyond each other, but Cassana had made up for it by inviting several lords who had fought for the red dragons during the war. Lord Baratheon had been invited too, but he had respectfully declined due to his duties. He did send his younger brother in his stead, and Cassana spent a good portion of the feast speaking to him about sending Manfred to Storm's End.

At one point, Keir suddenly stood up, holding his goblet. Cassana called for silence until Keir had everyone's attention.

"I'm not one for making speeches," Keir began shakily. "So, I'll make this brief. My father could not be with us on this day." He coughed, as if clearing his throat, but the painful glance he shared with his brother betrayed his emotions to Cassana.

"My bride's father is also gone," he continued hurriedly, "our mothers both too. A toast to them, I say. And to those who lost their lives in this terrible war. A toast to the dead."

"To the dead," Cassana echoed, squirming at the awkwardness of their guests. Few wished to invoke the Stranger, but they went along with it reluctantly.

"And also," Keir resumed, oblivious to the change in mood. "A toast to Falia's kin, who welcomed me with open arms, and who honoured my family's service to them. To House Dondarrion!"

"House Dondarrion!" Koss shouted the words in support of his brother. Dagnir of Edain, who sat beside Koss, shouted the same as he raised his horn.

"House Dondarrion!" This cheer was received much more enthusiastically, even as Cassana nodded to Keir. Privately, she knew that Keir had a long way to go before he could fully embrace his new titles. Thankfully, Falia would be able to help him in that regard. Cassana had already advised her on how to guide Keir in the right direction.

As she watched Keir sit down, looking embarrassed and foolish, she saw Falia lean forward and whisper something in his ear. It seemed to mollify him, for he was smiling again as she took his hand. Cassana sighed with relief as she returned to her plate of food.

"*"* "*" *"* "*"*" "*"*"* "*"* "*"*"*"*"*"* "*"* "*"* "*"* "*" *"* "*" *"*"* "*"* "

After Falia and Keir had gone off to their bedding, and the celebrations came to an end, Cassana and Baldric retired to their own room.

"A great success," Cassana declared, wishing to break the silence as they slowly undressed.

"Aye," Baldric answered softly. "Who knew that weddings follow wars?"

Cassana felt herself growing irritated, but she strove to keep it out of her voice. "Thankfully the war is over."

"It is," Baldric agreed, but his enthusiasm had not come back.

Cassana slowly turned to look at him. "What shall we use tonight?"

She had thrown away those toys which had remained in Blackhaven when she'd returned; they had been tainted by his touch and by their use against her by Alfred and the others. They had begun a new collection, but even that wasn't enough to fully reconcile them.

Baldric frowned. "You never ask me that. You always decide."

"Aye," Cassana said, "but I thought you might wish to have a choice."

"Nay." Baldric shook his head.

Cassana did not go to their new hiding place. "Come now, this is no way for us to celebrate a wedding night. What is troubling you? The war is over!"

"Our troubles did not begin with the war," Baldric replied.

"What is it, then?" Cassana frowned, growing deeply agitated.

Baldric looked at her. "You never apologised for striking me?"

"Striking you?" Cassana was flabbergasted. "When?"

"I don't mean in bed," Baldric countered resentfully. "You struck me in Stonehelm, you insulted me, and you belittled me. The bed is one thing, but not outside it, Cassana. That was ill done."

Cassana recalled the memory, and she felt her insides twisting. "I am sorry."

She meant the words sincerely, and she spoke them gently. Much to her shock, Baldric was unmoved. He folded his arms and continued to glare.

"That is not enough," he said, in a quiet but firm tone. "I want to know why you lash out so cruelly whenever anyone speaks of your father in a bad way."

Anger arose in her. "Did Titus put you up to this?"

"Titus? What does this have to do with Titus?" He shook his head. "He was not the only man who hated your father, you know."

"To the seven hells with those men," Cassana snapped.

"Me too, then?"

Cassana paused. She stared at her husband as he stood up. He had fully disrobed, as had she, but Baldric did not seem to notice or care.

"I never liked your father, you know. I saw him disrespect your mother when I was a boy, and have his way with wenches as he pleased. He was a hot-tempered drunk, too. He laughed when my brothers bullied me, and he was friendly with my uncle. You hated them. What makes him so much better than my kin?"

Cassana was fixated on the expression in Baldric's eyes. It was the same hurt expression which she had seen on her cousin's face when she'd struck her.

"Tell me," Cassana began quietly, "did you ever wonder why I did not spill maiden's blood on our wedding night?"

Baldric hesitated, looking confused and suspicious. "You told me that ladies often break their maidenhead while riding."

"That is true," Cassana agreed. "But I never said that it happened to me."

Something flickered in Baldric's eyes. "What are you saying?"

Cassana was greatly unsettled by his tone. It was terrifying to be so vulnerable, and she had not even confessed her darkest secrets.

"What do you recall of Royce Storm?"

Baldric frowned. "What do I recall? I recall that you forced me not to fight him in the trial by combat."

"He was long suspected of being a bastard Dondarrion," Cassana explained, "and the rumours were true."

"Were they? Who sired him, then?"

"My oldest brother, Edmund. He and his friends had raped a farrier's wife. None dared to accuse him directly of the crime, but I know that it was him who did the deed."

"And what makes you so certain?"

"Because that was not the first rape Edmund committed."

Baldric looked confused, and opened his mouth to ask something, until the ghastly truth washed over him.

"Gods," he gasped, horror-struck. "Your own brother…"

Cassana couldn't stop herself from weeping. She was sick with disgust and loathing that she could not restrain her emotions. It had been far easier to bury Edmund and her memory of that terrible night. When she had been raped by Maynard Kellington and Elwood of Blackhaven, all whilst Ser Alfred Swann had watched and mocked her, she had seen Edmund again, felt his cruel grip on her flesh, heard his ragged breathing as he'd forced himself inside her that terrible night. It was enough to make her feel paralysed. With no small effort, she spoke again.

"Father did not believe me when I told him what happened. He declared that I must have dreamed it, or that I was hysterical. I was told to sit with the maester and the septa to come to my senses. They had a lot to say to me about lying, about telling tales, about false accusations. And then I learned that I was pregnant."

Baldric groaned. "Gods, no…"

"Father gave me moon tea," Cassana cut him off, determined to finish sooner rather than later. "He asked me again who had defiled me, and refused to believe me when I told him the truth. He did not believe me until Royce was brought in by the farrier. When he heard the account of rape, he was forced to accept the truth."

Cassana's heart was pounding in her chest. The cost of keeping a secret was never appreciated more than when the secret was being given away.

"I never imagined that a man could be a worse father than mine," Baldric mused bitterly.

Cassana felt a wild urge to strike him again. "He was a good father! He avenged me at the cost of his own soul!"

"What does that mean?"

"It was no Dornishman who killed my brother."

Baldric said nothing. He simply waited for her to continue.

"Father told me once, when he was drunk. He took Edmund riding, but it was a trap. He brought Edmund south to a quiet grove. The farrier and his kinsmen were waiting for them."

Baldric turned pale. His mouth opened and closed without making a sound.

"Father rode back home and waited to send men after Edmund. They found him and brought him back. Everyone believed it was Dornishmen that killed him. I believed it too until Father confessed the truth. He promised that I could have what I wanted from him if I kept his secrets. Five days later, I chose you for my husband."

Baldric sat down heavily. His face seemed to have frozen into an expression of dismay.

"You wanted to know the truth, did you not? When Father accepted the truth, he did what any decent man would have done. And I will always honour him for that."

Baldric looked up at her with an expression she could not place. "I have never truly known you after all."

"You do know me!" Cassana stepped forward so that she loomed over him. "What does any of that change about us? Why should that unmake all that we have been through together? Why should that mean you no longer love me?"

"What?" Baldric gazed up into her eyes. "Who said I no longer loved you?"

A shaky sigh left her lips as she looked upon him. She felt as vulnerable as he appeared. Slowly, she put her hands on his cheeks and drew her towards her bosom.

Slowly, his own hands reached up and clasped her hips, even as he suddenly began to sob.

It was a terrible sound to Cassana's ears. She drew him closer, but his weeping did not abate.

"I missed you so much," he whimpered. "It was dreadful. So bloody dreadful."

He could not continue; he sat on the edge of their bed, shaking and gasping for breath as Cassana stood in front of him. Tears were in her own eyes, until she let them slide down her face.

They did nothing else that night but lie together and weep, even as they whispered of their worst memories of the war. Cassana spoke of Alfred Swann, of Maynard Kellington, of Elwood, of her weeks as a prisoner and a fugitive. Baldric recounted the barbarity he'd witnessed in the Vale and the slaughter of the Redgrass Field. By the time they were finished, it was almost morning.

Cassana had made sure that they would not be disturbed the following day, so nobody interrupted their long and peaceful sleep. When they finally awoke, the sun had passed its highest point in the sky. There was nobody to see them take out their toys and use them with renewed frenzy. Cassana lost count of her climaxes, and hungered for Baldric's, drawing them out as long as possible so that he cried like a wild animal when he finally released inside her.

And even though it was another month before she learned the truth of her pregnancy, there was not a doubt in her mind that they had conceived another child on that long and fruitful day.