Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs. All rights go to Game of Thrones of HBO and George R.R. Martin.

A/N: Welcome to chapter 8! Hello to my new favs/followers: jmm10800, Gabriel Castillo, kamilospl1312, Supernatural Believer, smilin steph, Ari Spero2, DeniseRenee, ZabuzasGirl, BasicCourtesy, BlackDragonTalon, Le-Weeb, ajiespino519, lem00066, AshleyEastSide, anime-aquarian-fan, teapotsandblood, Flwrz101, jaycokley673, NikHighlander, boholover, and MikkiSummers. I am doing something a little different this chapter by including quotes from the book that are relevant. Enjoy!

Ch. 8 Trust

"Can you trust Jaime Lannister…The lion of Lannister flew over the ramparts, not the crowned stag. And they had taken the city by treachery."

"Treachery was a coin the Targaryens knew well."

"There was no honor in that conquest."

"Killing kings is weary work."

Cassana could see the perfectly coifed hair of her uncle from the corner of her eye, exerting all her focus on Bran as she stared at his lifeless, broken body lying on the ground. Summer reached him first, whining and howling as she circled her master. Cassana could only gather Bran into her arms, cradling his head against her chest as she prodded each part of his body. She heard the sickening crunch as his body collided with the ground and she heard a woman screaming, something so horrifying it haunted her core. Except the woman was her, she had been the woman screaming and she had hardly recognized the foreign sound.

Cassana tried to feel for a pulse, but the adrenaline made the rhythm hard to make out. Only when she lowered her ear to Bran's chest did she hear a heartbeat, slow but present. And she sobbed, rocking him in her arms as she dared to look up to the sky. Jaime stood there, unafraid, and guilty as his usually confident green eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. He had watched and done nothing. He had performed the deed that may yet kill Bran had yet he stood motionless in the window of the broken tower.

Cassana could only blink up at him, curses and threats forming at the base of her throat. But she could not talk, she could only sob hysterically as her tears blocked her eyesight and her body shook from anxiety. It was Maester Luwin who reached them first, various servants alerting him that someone may have been hurt. She turned to him, displaying the unconscious Bran in her arms as Catelyn came into view. She fell to her knees in front of her new daughter-in-law, clutching her son to her breast as she began her own wailing. It put Cassana's cries to shame and as Cat attempted to reach her feet, she struggled. If not for Cassana's help she would have fallen. They cradled the boy's body gently as it was ushered to his chambers, settled within the safety of his feather pillows as Maester Luwin began to assess him.

Cat collapsed next to her son's bedside, the sight unlocking something so hidden within Cassana she hardly understood it. Cersei had never looked at her that, had never displayed a sliver of devotion as Cat showed her son, that Lady Stark showed all her children. And the feeling was overwhelming. She couldn't breathe. She had to escape that room before it consumed her and she backed away, her absence not missed.

With the lingering touch of death in the air, Cassana's back hit the cold stone of the hall and she sank to the floor. Clutching her knees to her chest, the distant sound of footsteps reached her ears. Her tear-stained face looked up into the face of her mother and all she saw was disappointment. Pure distaste gleamed in Cersei's green eyes, breaking momentarily to watch the scene before them. Her gaze was unforgiving as she condescendingly paraded away, her red skirts trailing behind her like a pool of blood. She knew then it was Jaime and Cersei that had condemned Bran to his fate.

Waking with a gasp, Cassana bolted upright from the furs covering her naked body, the fire crackling next to her as she looked down at a sleeping Robb. He had fidgeted in his sleep from her abrupt awakening, but he hadn't been startled enough to open his sleep-lidded eyes. The couple had ended up on a makeshift bed in front of the hearth, Cassana refusing to sleep where Joffrey had almost taken liberties with her.

As her breathing slowed, Cassana wiped the thin layer of sweat off her lip and stared down at her sleeping husband. Though she had been nestled on his chest, Robb's face merely strained at her movement. She brushed the curls from his forehead, noticing how the wrinkles disappeared when he stopped frowning. He looked positively gorgeous with the fire highlighting his strong jaw and the beginning of a beard that somehow, she hadn't noticed before. His arm remained outstretched next her as if beckoning her back to bed. It was tempting, the furs tucked at his hips and his naked chest on display. But a muffled noise attracted her attention.

Cassana rose quietly, tugging on a nightdress and a robe. She heard a struggle and a child's voice on the other side of the door, unbolting the barrier and cracking it open to reveal the figure of Rickon Stark. Shaggydog sat next to him, softly whining while his master whimpered. "I couldn't open the door."

Cassana bent down, ushering the youngest Stark into her arms. "I bolted the door, Rickon. That is my mistake. Why are you out of bed?"

"I…" Rickon's cries made him stutter, the sound of him sniffling his nose reaching her ear. "I can't sleep." Cassana knew the feeling, gathering Rickon into her arms and carrying him back into the bedchamber. Shaggydog bounded in behind them, Grey Wind giving him a warning growl. His sibling's ears flattened, and he calmed down beside him, both direwolves laying on the carpet.

Cassana crawled back into the furs, Rickon settling beside her. He wrapped himself around her, ignoring Robb's light snores as he made himself comfortable next to the newest Stark. Cassana had to move Robb's arm, rolling her eyes when he shifted and made a noise of discontent in the back of his throat. He turned to the other side and Cassana backed up against him. Settled between the oldest and youngest Stark, she started to drift off to sleep.

Rickon's small hand enclosed around a blonde curl and Cassana smiled.

"My mind is my weapon. My brother had his sword, King Robert has his Warhammer, and I have my mind."

Robb was surprised when he awoke the next morning to find his back pressed against Cassana, accustomed to the sight of her in his arms with her blonde hair spread around her like a halo. He reached for her, pulling her back into his body. He paused when he saw a head of auburn hair laying against her chest and chuckled. Rickon had somehow managed to weasel his way into the blonde Baratheon's arms. It was quite endearing, seeing Rickon cling to his wife.

Robb rose, careful to cover his nakedness as he went to dress for the day. Cassana and Rickon barely moved, both still deep within the throngs of sleep. He noted how the direwolves also remained laying down, though Grey Wind opened an amber eye at his master before huffing deeply. He could hear the distant commotion of the courtyard, the royal party and a portion of Winterfell leaving that morning.

Donning his leather jerkin and fur cloak, Robb made his way to the chaos below, tracking down Jon as he saddled his horse. He fell into step beside his brother.

"Have you said goodbye to Bran?" Robb asked, Jon carrying the saddle over his shoulder as he walked to his steed. The brothers fell into step walking side-by side. "He's not going to die. I know it," Robb spoke confidently, Jon nodding his head in agreement.

"You Starks are hard to kill." Jon earned himself a chuckle and a smirk, Robb finding his brother's comment not only quick witted but the truth.

"And my mother?" Robb questioned further. Jon thought before he spoke, Lady Stark always cold and cruel to him. He had made his farewells to Bran, but not before Catelyn had the last word. It should have been you. Her words were like venom, piercing his soul as she tried to further shatter his spirit. She wished he had been incapacitated, not Bran. He shook his head, trying to blur the vicious memory from his thoughts. He would not tell Robb.

"She was very kind."

"Well good." Robb missed the momentary frown on Jon's stoic features.

"Next time I see ya, you'll be all in black," Robb jested, his northern accent thick as he spoke. Jon remarked how he sounded gruffer than Robb, not as eloquent, not as commanding.

"It was always my color," Jon retorted, a small smile on his lips. He was the shy brother, the second brother. Not the brother destined to be an heir but destined to make his own fate.

"Farewell, Snow."

"And you, Stark."

The two brothers embraced briefly though one would say there was hesitance in their parting. Robb was the heir; Jon was the bastard. But their bond as brothers was stronger than most. Each had taken a part of the other unknowingly. And neither would allow the other to see their brief fear of leaving the other. Robb turned on his heel, Jon back to his horse.

But the eldest Stark was surprised when the king approached him, a rather serious expression on his face. Robb bowed as was required but was baffled when Robert placed his hands on his shoulders, a firm grip around them as if preparing him. "She's your responsibility now." Robb nodded.

"Yes, your grace." Robert's grip tightened, now a warning.

"She is the essence of your duty." Robb furrowed his brow, confused by the darkened look on his good-father's face. "I was a fool, blinded by my stupidity. Joffrey is a coward, and you were right to seek justice. And he has been punished, though not well enough." Robb's fists squeezed at his side, wondering where the king was headed with his cryptic words. "I have decided to make you prince and princess of Winterfell."

"Your grace…" Robb was at a loss of words, Robert removing his hands from the young wolf's shoulders.

"You shall tell no one until I make the arrangements for the both of you to come to King's Landing. And then I shall make the announcement."

"I am honored, your grace. But I am—." Robb was cut off by his king, his father coming into view behind the large man and further confusing him as to Ned's grim expression. He had no idea what the conversation entailed, and it caused a cold shiver to run down Robb's spine.

"You don't want to thank me yet, son. Not yet." The king's eyes betrayed a type of sadness, as if the title he was bestowing on his daughter and her new husband was a burden rather than an honor. Ned nodded at his son in departure to which Robb returned the gesture.

"Father." Robb turned to see his bride bathed and dressed. Having donned a dark ensemble of silver and black, she hardly looked like a Baratheon princess. Gone was the silk dress from yesterday, replaced with fabric more bearable for the winds of the North. It was as if she had replaced her silks with armor. Yet her body language betrayed her, blue eyes hardened like steel. She curtsied, Robert approaching her while she held her stance. Her eyes never left him, her golden hair fluttering as a brisk breeze ran through the courtyard. Robert grasped her chin, raising her from her curtsy.

A silent conversation between father and daughter occurred. Though no words were uttered, the Baratheon orbs spoke volumes. Bright blue like the blue flames more dangerous than the red and orange that captured the attention of an audience. Cassana finally lowered her gaze, Robert kissing his daughter's forehead. "I was never meant to be a father and here I am. Rewarded with only you." Cassana now scrunched her nose in puzzlement, meeting the same perplexed gaze of her husband as her father strode away.

Cassana reached the comfort of her husband, Robb instantly placing his hand on her back as they watched the royal party depart. Joffrey had been sent ahead earlier than the rest, avoiding the tense atmosphere of the evening before. Tommen and Myrcella had already been ushered into the wheelhouse, Cassana frowning at the missed opportunity to say goodbye. Yet she knew it was intentional. Cersei Lannister appeared, a beacon of red and gold as she stood in the courtyard of Winterfell.

"Will you not say a proper goodbye to your queen? To your mother?" Cersei's voice echoed across the courtyard, luring her daughter into a battle of tongues. She practically begged Cassana to react, her green irises glowing with glee at the darkened gaze of the young Baratheon.

"You never have and never will be a mother to me. I learned that many years ago." Cassana turned her back on her mother, causing the woman to lunge forward and yank her back by her arm. Robb tensed, noting he would cross the line of propriety if he dare lay a hand on the queen. His eyes darted between mother and daughter.

"You forget yourself," Cersei snarled under her breath, Cassana meeting her gaze defiantly as her mother refused to relinquish her hold on her upper arm.

"If you think I will ever forgive you for standing there, for taking his side, for raising such a vile being, you are wrong. I am no longer yours to control, to bend to your will. I am a Stark now and you will not forget it." The fuming glare of her daughter and her obvious indignation made Cersei falter, the mask of righteousness disappearing from her usual haughty expression. Cassana was able to rip her appendage from her mother's vice-like grip, the Baratheon blue declaring her loyalties lay elsewhere. Cersei could perceive a threat whether it was presented or not.

"This will be the mistake of your life. Think about what you are doing." Cersei's voice was dangerously low, Robb straining to hear her as he watched Cassana for any sign of distress. She indicated none. "Do you wish to be my enemy, Cassana? Do you wish to turn your back on the Lannister name? What will your grandfather think of you when he learns of your behavior towards me…" She made a tsking sound with her tongue and the accustomed feeling of dread pooled in Cassana's stomach. Cersei started to circle her daughter, calculating and cautious as she sneered.

Cassana gulped, feeling claustrophobic as her mother neared her once more. "What will you do when he turns his back on you? What shall you do when he doesn't make you happy? You belong in King's Landing. You belong with me and your siblings in the capital, in the South. Not this barren land where you will waste away with a Stark."

"What will grandfather do when he learns of your mistake?" Cassana questioned boldly. Cersei frowned; her delicate features now marred by the sudden change of expression. She was at an utter loss of words.

Cassana now mimicked her mother's smirk, so eerily similar and yet a tad different. "All these years, you've hated me for no reason. I only wanted your attention your love. But that night when I stumbled into your rooms and Uncle Jaime…" Cersei's face turned white as snow. She blanched, trying to cover her tracks.

"What you insinuate is treason." Cersei's eyes darted all around, making sure no one was close enough to hear.

"Not if it's true. Tell me, do you hate me because I'm his child? Because I'm the only one who is truly a Baratheon?" Cassana's blues became filled with tears, as if she had waited all her life to confront her mother about the truth. "Or am I Uncle Jaime's?"

Cersei was quick to defend herself, though her opaque emeralds were becoming more and more transparent by the second. "You have filled your head with hallucinations. Your mind has clung to a child's imagination."

"Just as Joffrey's have been. Or will you deny that as well? When all can be admitted and forgiven, you still refuse to tell me the truth. I beg you, mama…" Cassana pleaded for a semblance of maternal instinct from the queen, but she received none. Alluding to Joffrey's incestuous tendencies was the last straw.

"If you ever utter this lie against me—." Cassana shirked away at the malice in her mother's glare. Killing her eldest daughter was not above Cersei Lannister's morals. She would do anything to protect herself, to protect the other three children who were perfect images of herself and Jaime. "You will regret it."

Cassana nodded her head, wiping the tears of frustration from her reddened cheeks. She knew her value then. Her mother would kill her if she ever muttered the truth. But she would feign her true intentions. Her mother may not have admitted her guilt, but it was evident. "There are many things I regret. I regret ever being your child. I regret ever wishing for your affections. I regret the fact that you choose Joffrey over me." She clenched her teeth, her sorrow overshadowed by her fury. "I do not regret that I will be far from your reach. Whether Uncle Jaime is your lover or not is now far from my concern. I will remain in the North, far away from you and far away from your precious Joffrey," Cassana scoffed.

Cersei scoffed. "You've made your choice. Don't come wailing back to King's Landing when you learn how noble your Stark husband truly is." She had to have the last word, but Cassana merely blinked back at her mother with her Baratheon blues. Sensing Robb behind her, she watched as her mother turned her back on her as she flounced to the wheelhouse and out of her life. Cassana withdrew into the arms of her husband, noting how he stayed silent but pressed a kiss to her forehead when he pulled her back into his arms. Her back hit his chest lightly as he firmly embraced her.

Cersei looked back one final time, grimacing when she saw her daughter had retreated to her husband. The young wolf stared back at her with something akin to protectiveness and possessiveness over his young bride. A threat lingered in his gaze that would discomfit Cersei for the entire journey from Winterfell to King's Landing.

Cersei would come to realize how much she underestimated Robb Stark.

The royal party had been gone for five days. Ned and the girls had traveled to the South while Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister made their way to the Wall. Robb took up the duties of his father while Cassana was left to pick up the pieces his mother had forgotten in her grief. Bran remained unconscious and abed with Cat to obsess over his wellbeing. Rickon was glued to Cassana's side, crying for his mother, and wondering why she paid him no attention.

Robb had had enough of the silence, wondering into Bran's chambers, and watching his mother with pity.

Cassana saw the determined look in her husbands' eye as she sat on the other side of Bran. She would come to visit Cat, bringing her meals, and reading to her brother-in-law while he remained unconscious. She was currently making shirts for Robb, noticing the ones he had were in dire of need of mending. She frowned when she noticed the imminent confrontation between mother and son, but it was needed, nevertheless.

However, Maester Luwin spoke first. Approaching Bran, he felt the temperature of the boy's forehead with his palm. "It's time we reviewed the accounts, my lady. You'll want to know how much this royal visit has cost us."

Cat dismissed him easily, turning her attention back to her lap. She was weaving again, a talisman to protect her child. "Talk to Poole about it."

"Poole went south with Lord Stark, my lady," Luwin responded. He held his hands calmly in front of him, understanding the pain she held as a mother but also feeling she needed to return to her duties. It was in the gods' hands whether Bran would awake or not. "We need a new steward. And there are several other appointments that require immediate attention—."

"I don't care about appointments!" Cat spoke sharply, her eyes teary as she stared at her son. Cassana remained silent, biting her lip in protest. It was not fair. Not fair to Cat, not fair to Maester Luwin, and especially not fair to Robb now that he had to feel the burden of being the Lord of Winterfell in his father's absence. His mother was a ghost of her former self, rejecting all others for one child over all others.

"I'll make the appointments." Robb had entered the room silently, neither noting his presence. Only Cassana had felt his being close by. "We'll talk about it first thing in the morning."

"Very good, my lord." Luwin left the Starks to their privacy. "My lady," he muttered at Cat, but she ignored him once more.

Cassana could feel the tension oozing from her husband as he scoffed under his breath at his mother's behavior. He opened the window, letting in not only the chill of the north but also the barking of the direwolves.

"When was the last time you left this room? Have you let Cassana watch over Bran?" Robb's knuckles turned white as he gripped the shutters, his voice low and gentle but also holding a hint of weariness.

"I have to take care of him." The desperation of Cat's tone made Cassana cringe, and she accidently pricked her finger with the needle she was using. She refused to cry out, sucking her thumb at the minor prick. She cursed under her breath, making sure there was no blood on the white linen she held in her lap.

Robb did not notice, his anger fixated on his mother. "He's not going to die, mother." He was exasperated at her pessimism. "Maester Luwin says the most dangerous time has passed."

"What if he's wrong? Bran needs me." Cat's eyes widened in disbelief, but her jaw dropped open when Cassana finally inserted herself into their conversation.

"And your other children don't, lady mother?" Cat was furious, the color of her cheeks matching the striking red hair now fading to greys. Cassana lifted her chin, her bright blues blazing back at her.

"You are not a mother. You do not understand." The statement stung. Robb held his tongue.

Cassana controlled her temper but spoke her piece. "I understand what it's like to be forgotten." Robb's eyes softened at his wife's words.

"Bran needs me!" The direwolves continued to howl louder, as if they could sense the distress in the keep.

"Rickon needs you. He's six. He doesn't know what's happening. He follows Cassana and I around all day, clutching my leg and her skirts, crying…" Robb admitted, but Cat refused to listen.

"Close the windows! I can't stand it! Please, make them stop!" Cat cried. Robb turned back to the window, momentarily stunned at what he saw.

"Fire," Robb spoke shakily. Cassana quickly rose to her feet, seeing the beginning of red flames across the courtyard.

"You both stay here." Robb turned to Cassana, grasping her arms gently. It wasn't a request. It was an order. "I'll come back." He kissed her forehead, departing the room in a rush. Cat finally raised herself from her post, coming to the window and spotting the fire.

"It must have been an accident," Cassana started, but she noticed something from the corner of her eyes. The hooded man is just the beginning. The voice was back again. Eerie and wary as always. Turning, she gasped at the hooded man who had entered the room. Cat's head spun around, instantly feeling the danger the man emanated from his body.

"You're not supposed to be here." The mystery man paused. "Neither of you are." His gaze turned to Bran. "It's a mercy. He's dead already." The man pulled a Valyrian blade from his belt, Cat immediately lunging for the man.

"No!" she cried out, the man now turning to her as he smacked her across the face. Cat fell onto the bed before he grabbed her by her scalp and attempted to slit her throat. Cassana had rushed to Bran, dragging him from the covers and across the room as she tried to carry him in her arms. She struggled; his weight slightly more than she could handle. Cat fought back against the mystery man, using her weight to slam him against the dresser behind. Blood poured from her palms as the blade cut into her flesh. She eventually bit his hand, making the man release her and cry out in pain.

Cassana couldn't leave her, trying to reach for something that would suffice as a weapon. She had managed to place Bran in the corner of the room, the boy unmoving and silent as the assassin threw his mother down onto the floor. Cat's upper lip was smeared with blood as she stared up at her perpetrator. The man's gaze turned back to the bed; a yelp of frustration heard when he noticed Bran was missing. His treacherous gaze scanned the room, locking onto Cassana as she held a brass candlestick in her hands.

Her eyes filled with terror, Cassana screamed out as she threw metal at the man. She missed, her aim terribly off. He charged at her, surprised when she reached for the knife hidden in her sleeve. It was from Cat's dinner plate, though the meal had remained untouched. The knife became embedded in his exposed hand, and he dropped the dagger in anguish. Pulling the knife from his injured hand, it clattered onto the floor. Anger filled him and he reached for Cassana's throat, throwing her away from Bran. Unknowingly, she hit her head on the bedpost, knocked out cold as she hit the floor.

A protective snarl echoed through the room, Bran's direwolf making its presence known as it sprang up at the attacker and ripped into the skin of his throat. A gurgling sound followed as blood pooled to the man's mouth and he fell to his knees before collapsing dead on the ground. Summer possessively laid herself across Bran's body, Cat finally coming to her senses as her blood covered hands reached for Cassana. She pulled the Baratheon princess into her lap, knowing Bran was safe again. Summer whined briefly, Cat breathing heavily as she assessed the bruise forming on Cassana's forehead.

"Cassana," Cat spoke softly, shaking her son's wife gently as she attempted to wake her. Cassana's eyelids fluttered momentarily before she moaned. She didn't open her eyes as she pressed a hand to her forehead and winced. "It's alright. Bran is alright. Summer sensed the danger." Cassana couldn't nod, too stunned to move. Her head remained in Cat's lap as the Lady of Winterfell studied her.

"Let me help you." Cat aided Cassana in rising to her feet, carefully shuffling her to a chair before she approached her son. Grunting as she pulled Bran into her arms, she shuffled her feet to the bed before laying her heavy load down. Bran was not easy to carry, more so than Rickon who she could still manage in her arms. A moment of strength was needed to move Bran from the floor to his bed as she managed to maneuver around the blood stained floor and the dead assassin.

Cat hadn't realized Cassana had picked up the weapon off the floor. It had been forgotten transitorily. The gash on Cassana's forehead and the imminent menace of the sharp blade made Cat shudder. She fiddled with the dagger, turning it around between her hands. A Valyrian dagger. But why does the assassin have this? The implications of his involvement made the situation more dire. Does he know what I know? Is he trying to silence Bran once and for all? She doubted Bran would remember the events leading to his fall. And her sighting of a blonde man in the tower could have been anyone. But she knew in her heart it was none other than Jaime Lannister who threw Bran from the tower.

"Whoever gave that man this dagger, wanted my son dead. But why?" Cassana remained silent, a blank stare on her face as she refused to answer. She couldn't admit the guilt of her family, bot yet anyways. She needed to speak to Robb, alone and away from prying eyes. She felt the suspicion in Cat's gaze, as if she sensed Cassana prevented the truth from being muttered from her lips.

Cassana may have been a Stark, but she never felt more alone among the wolves of Winterfell.

Cassana could hear them as they talked in the Godswood, her cloak pulled close around her as she sat with her back against one of the many trees in that forest. No one knew she was there, having wandered into the woods with no one to watch her. Robb had been so gentle with her after he found her in his mother's arms, acting as if she was as fragile as glass because of her injury. He had awoken before her that morning, the bed cold on his side when she rose for the day. She froze when she saw their bedsheets covered in blood. She had started her cycle.

"If you are to be a complete success, you must fall pregnant on the wedding night or soon after." Tywin Lannister paced in front of his granddaughter as she stared up at him in shock. She hadn't expected him to speak of such things in front of her. "Not that you are of lesser value if you do not conceive at first, but then they cannot doubt your womb. Your mother had three sons, though one departed early in his life. I am one of four sons as is your great-grandfather. Your father has two brothers. It is in your blood. You will have many sons." Cassana frowned. Apparently, her only value was in giving Robb Stark sons over anything else. Not a companion, not a wife, but a broodmare.

Tywin cast his intense gaze back on Cassana who fidgeted under his watch. "You shall not disappoint me I hope?"

"Of course not, grandfather."

Cassana had cried her eyes out that morning when she discovered she was not yet with child. Her grandfather would be furious if no news was sent within the next few weeks. Though she wouldn't be discarded for not being pregnant yet, Tywin would think it was a lack of effort on her part.

"Why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see." Cassana huffed under her breath. It had been a month since Bran fell from the tower and two weeks after his attempted assassination. Cat's motherly instincts led her in the right direction. She gulped nervously. The revelation was followed by a quick scolding of Theon and Robb as they attempted to rise to the challenge of war. Utter idiots. Men only think of war and glory. But it did frighten Cassana that the Lannisters, that her family were at the center of their hostilities. Will they turn on me because I am half a Lannister? Because my golden curls mock them while Bran lies asleep?

Cassana felt the hot liquid pour down her face again. She scowled, wiping the tears in frustration as she stared back at the red leaves of the heart tree. It too cried as she was, though the red sap was more mystical and alluring then her tears ever could be. The voices eventually faded but she remained, silent and observant as she gazed around at her surroundings.

But eventually the silence became too much and Cassana went to raise herself off the ground. But she had been caught, Catelyn staring down at her like a disappointed mother. Cassana's lips formed into a straight line and her cheeks turned red, but she refused to speak first.

"What are you doing out here? Alone?"

"Listening to you declare your hatred for the Lannisters. Tell me, good mother, do you hate me too?" Cassana boldly asked. Cat saw no fear in gaze, only judgement.

"Those words were not for your ears," Cat stated simply.

"Obviously." Sarcasm dripped from Cassana's lips like honey. Cat noted the condescending tone to her voice. Being raised a princess, she was sure she received her mother's attitude. "Yet I've heard them. And Maester Luwin was the only vision of wisdom during the duration of your chat." Cassana raised herself up from the ground, brushing her skirts off before addressing Cat at a balanced level.

"Are you going to try and persuade me to think otherwise? Or will you lock me in my rooms and deny any communication with my mother to alert her of your decision to ride to Kings Landing?" Cassana placed her hands on her hips, her Baratheon rage alight in her fiery blues. Cat remarked to herself how she may have had her mother's looks but her father's anger.

"Is there any reason for me to believe you would betray my confidence for that of your mother?" Cat hit a nerve.

"Don't you dare mention my mother." She tried to brush past Catelyn, but the Lady of Winterfell refused as she blocked her path.

"Why are you in the Godswood alone?" Cat pressed. Tears blurred Cassana's vision once more and she muffled her cries with her hand. Cat embraced her in an instant, Cassana melting into the woman as she held her.

"I'm a complete and utter failure. I beg you, don't send me back. I can't." Cat shushed her, smoothing her gold curls back before rubbing her back in comfort.

"Why would you say such a thing?"

Cassana stepped back, trying to contain her sniffling. "My bleeding started," she admitted, shame covering her features.

Cat clasped her hands in hers, giving her daughter-in-law a small smile. "Just because you are not with child yet, does not mean you are a failure."

"My grandfather would say otherwise." Cat's brow creased in disbelief.

"When the time is right, you and Robb will have children. Many children. I am sure of it." She tucked a stray curl behind Cassana's ear. "Your grandfather is speaking from a man's point of view. You are healthy. You are young. And it's only been a month."

"You fell pregnant on your wedding night."

"I was very lucky," Cat retorted. "The gods knew Ned would be taken away from me and sent to war. They sent Robb in his stead. I hope you never have to experience that."

"You and I both know a war is coming. It is inevitable." The declaration frightened Cat as she released Cassana's hands. Not because she was right but because Cassana would need to choose a side: her Lannister roots or her bond to Stark. "My loyalties lie with your son. I promise you." she admitted. "Never doubt that."

Promises were easy to be made and likely to be broken. Cat let Cassana pass her to leave the Godswood, knowing Robb would be waiting for her.

"Is there a reason you were eavesdropping in the Godswood?" Cassana hadn't expected Robb to ambush her like that. He had been waiting in their chambers much to her surprise. His Tully eyes were harsh and suspicious. Cassana scowled back at him. After the confrontation with his mother, she was in no mood to be reprimanded.

"I wasn't eavesdropping. I was minding my own business. It wasn't until your mother started protesting against my family that I realized I wasn't alone. You're going to go to war against them? Earn yourself some glory?" Cassana mocked him with a smirk on her features, so similar to Cersei and yet, she didn't have the same viciousness her mother possessed.

"The Lannisters—."

"I am part Lannister," Cassana reminded him. "Will you strike me down as well?"

"You are my wife. I took vows with you. You are no longer a Lannister," Robb emphasized. He was just as stubborn as she was. The two battled for dominance, but neither would relent. Robb crossed his arms across his chest, his pride clouding his judgment as he stared down his wife fiercely. "Or would you dissuade me from my dislike of them?"

"I have no quarrel with you over whether you like them or not." Robb raised his eyebrows. Her resolve had faltered he decided while Cassana fiddled with her betrothal ring nervously. "You are right to suspect them. I—." She hesitated and Robb faltered in his anger.

"What do you know?" His tone was accusatory, and she changed tactics. Robb could see the flicker in her blues and his stomach flipped.

"I know to never trust a Lannister." Robb swallowed hard. "Do you trust me, Robb Stark?" Cassana stepped circles around him, closing him in. He was mesmerized by the way her eyes never left him, studying him deeply as he realized what she was doing. She drew her hand across his chest before reaching for the wine decanter, her back now to him.

"You are not your mother. I won't play these games with you," Robb grit back at her. Cassana laughed before downing her liquid libation. She knew it was wrong of her, the way she was treating him so horribly. But she couldn't help herself. He was blatantly throwing his trust in her back in her face.

"I never said I was. But you clearly have some thoughts on the matter. Would you care to share?" She continued her mocking tone, turning back around to face him. Robb could see the small upturns at the corner of her mouth, and he glared.

"Seven hells, Cassana!" Robb appeared as if he would pull his hair out. He had this raw emotion about him as he paced. "Our marriage will be nothing like your parents so stop this performance and get your ass over here."

Cassana gaped at her husband as if he were some type of animal and he was the way he lunged at her like a hungry wolf. Robb yanked her to his chest, silencing her lips with his. He was ravenous the way his lips locked against her throat and traveled down the curvature of her neck. She was taken aback by his energy, but their fight was forgotten as she clawed at his clothing and desired the feel of his body against hers.

Robb followed suit, hiking her skirts up as he lifted Cassana by her thighs and carried her over to their marital bed. Articles of clothing were thrown into the air, both desperate for skin on skin contact. Cassana's underskirts remained but her corset and top layers of her gown were already removed. Her nipples turned to stone at the feel of the cold air, warmed by Robb's broad chest as he laid himself over her.

Robb nuzzled his face against her chest, Cassana moaning as he took a bud into his mouth. He grinned when she pressed herself further into him, her back arching off the bed. She loved the feel of his light beard against her skin, goosebumps scattering all over her body. But she squirmed as his mouth lingered over her navel before diving further. She stopped him and Robb yelped when she pulled at his curls.

"I've started my bleeding." Robb pouted, unaffected by the fact she was not yet with child but merely upset he could not pleasure her the way he wanted to. He laid his chin on her abdomen.

"Pity. I was looking forward to devouring you." Robb's grin fell from his features when he noticed the distant gaze in her eyes. He crawled back up the length of her body, Cassana refusing to meet his eye. "Look at me." She refused, keeping her head to the side. Her blues were watering again.

"Look at me." Robb's husky yet commanding voice urged her to look. Staring down at Cassana, he could see how vulnerable she was. He knew what was expected of her, but it was not the same for him. He would not hold her to the same ideals her mother and grandfather forced down her throat. He reached for her face, lifting her chin up before tracing it with his thumb. His finger drew across her bottom lip, and he captured her lips with his once more.

No words were needed. Robb's kind eyes were enough confirmation for Cassana as she bundled herself into his arms, safe and protected. He didn't care she wasn't with child. He just wanted her. He wanted to enjoy her, figure out her likes and dislikes, discover ways to make her unravel.

Robb held her fiercely against him, refusing to let go. "I want you. I need you. Don't push me away." Cassana nodded profusely.

"I won't."

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different…

"The battleground is right up ahead where the river bends. That was where my father killed Rhaegar Targaryen, you know."

"Oh, look what they did, look what they did. My poor prince. Don't be afraid."

"And don't touch me."

"The girl is as wild as that filthy animal of hers…Joff will carry those scars for the rest of his life…"

A/N: Comments? Reviews?