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 13!

Dance of Deception

Robb,

By the time you receive my letter, my father will be dead, and the fate of your father will rest in the hands of the council. He puts his trust in Lord Baelish because of your mother's childhood shared with him, but the mockingbird has his own agenda. He knows the truth my mother has hidden so well, but Varys knows as well. Pycelle may act the fool, but he is far from it.

I trust only your father, but I hope you understand the lengths I have had to take to ensure your sisters' safety as well as my own. Your father shares no plans with me, but I fear the gold cloaks can be easily bought if your father's retinue is not enough. There are too many Lannister soldiers for him to take the Red Keep by himself. And I will not sacrifice the other men I have brought from Winterfell. They are far too precious to me.

You will receive a letter from Sansa, written in her hand but they are the words of my mother. You must respond to me, and you must lie about your movements. You must make it seem as if I have not warned you. We must outsmart them, Robb. We must win.

My uncle Renly has yet to learn about the truth, but he gathers followers as we speak. He wants to make himself king just as Stannis will when he learns the truth. My claim will be denied for the sake of power just as your claim to be my husband.

I make this vow to you, that I will find my way back to you in this life or the next. You are king, my love. Gather the banners and bring me home.

My heart belongs to you and you alone,

Cassana

Robb slammed the letter down in anger as the other crumbled in his fists, Theon and Maester Luwin looking on with dread. "They put my father in chains, hold my sisters captive, and treat my wife like a piece of bait to be dangled before my eyes."

"Robb, I read the contents of the other letter. What Cassana says is true, but that is not all."

"What else is there?" Robb was trembling. His instincts screamed at him. He knew they were all in danger, but there was something more.

"Joffrey has declared that you swear fealty to him. And…They have declared your marriage invalid based upon the grounds of consummation. The queen claims that you never touched Cassana and that your marriage is not a true one. She shall be…" Maester Luwin hesitated, knowing his words would send Robb into a fit of rage. "She shall be wed to Joffrey within a fortnight."

Robb collapsed in his chair, overtaken by his emotions. "This is madness," he muttered. "Absolute madness." He had no means to protect his wife, not when he was a thousand leagues away. And to picture that vile bastard pawing at his wife, his shut his eyes as if in excruciating pain. He should have taken her in her arms and never let her go. He should have told her the words he feared most.

"Just a few months and I'll be back in your arms," Cassana spoke as she mounted her horse. Robb pouted as he stared up at her.

"Not soon enough," he muttered and Cassana lowered her upper body slightly to kiss him. "I'll never let you go once you return."

"My sentiments exactly, husband." Cassana spurred her horse on its heels, Alys nodding at both Robb and Theon in goodbye. He missed the lingering gaze his wife sent over her shoulder, a proclamation of love in her blue oceans.

Theon had nudged Robb roughly, distracting him from seeing her farewell glance. "How much of a coward are you, Robb? You manage a mediocre goodbye. When will you tell your wife you love her? If you don't muster up the courage, I will." He knocked some sense into his friend, Robb watching as his wife faded into the distance.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robb attempted to deny his feelings, but Theon saw right through him.

"Alright. And I'll continue to delude myself into thinking Alys is not far better than I deserve," Theon cackled, shaking his head as he walked away from the heir to Winterfell. Robb raised an eyebrow at Theon's admittance, but his face soon soured at his own faults.

Love. The notion sent delicious shivers down his spine and his stomach pooled with a deeper warmth than lust ever could. Robb loved Cassana and he would declare it to her every chance that he got when she returned.

"You've called the banners, Robb. They are all on their way to Winterfell. We will save them, all of them," Theon reassured him, but Robb was not easy to convince. His eyes glared dangerously, as he yanked the chair from beneath him and threw it across the room.

"They have my wife! My wife!" He clutched Theon by his doublet, the Greyjoy heir gripping his friend's wrist tightly at the force. "And now that monster will get his hands on her and there is nothing I can do to stop it."

"You forget they also have my Alys." Theon was not angry at Robb, but he held the same hatred in his heart for the men who held the Redwyne daughter captive with her mistress.

"Robb, she is an intelligent woman. And she knows of Joffrey's illicit…tendencies. She is well aware of what he will do if she is not compliant, but do you think her helpless? She is her mother's daughter. If Cersei was able to manipulate King Robert for so many years, do you not think Cassana can do the same?" Maester Luwin was right, Robb feared. He equally admired and hated the way his wife could mold him to her will. A simple smile could send him to his knees. She was capable of doing far worse to Joffrey. "This is a royal command. If you deny him, you also will be declared a traitor to the realm," Luwin finished. His words did little to calm Robb's racing heart.

"I won't refuse. If he summons me to King's Landing, I'll go. And I'll have the entire North behind me while I cut off his head. They've all sworn fealty to my father. Now it's time they prove it, see what their words are worth. And they'll prove their loyalty to their queen as well." His words sunk deep, but Robb could not acknowledge he was king consort. Every fiber in his being denied it. He did not want to be king.

"Are you afraid?" Theon asked, studying Robb's shaking hand.

"I must be," Robb admitted, swallowing harshly. His throat was like sandpaper.

"Good."

"Good? Why good?" His brow furrowed in confusion.

Theon could not have been any more correct in his statement. "That means you're not stupid."

"My Lord Father taught me that it was death to bare steel against your liege lord," Robb said, "but doubtless you only meant to cut my meat."

"Your meat," he roared," is bloody tough. "And somehow after that the Greatjon became Robb's right hand, his staunchest champion…"

Dawn. Lysa had had the letter since dawn and had refrained from showing Cat the correspondence sent to her from King's Landing. Entitled, spoiled, selfish, self-serving…Those were the terms she used to describe her sister as she watched her with shame and pity. Lysa was a shell of the person she remembered, broken and paranoid beyond measure. She would hear no voice but her own.

Cat could argue, scream until her throat burned, but Lysa would still declare her husband a traitor and her son for starting a war. "Do you not care for your own son?" she voiced, Lysa narrowing her eyes.

"I do everything for Robin, and I will not risk his life or any Knight of the Vale for your son. If he was patient, he would learn that his bride is not worth it. The war is not worth saving his father's life. Your boy is too green, sister. It would be best for you to control him or else your whole family will be deemed traitors," Lysa spit at Cat.

"Do you have no honor, Lysa? Will you hide behind your walls until the Lannisters beat upon your doorstep?" Cat questioned.

"It is survival, not hiding. You'll come to learn the difference." Lysa dismissed Cat with a wave of her hand, too absorbed with Robin to spare her sister a care.

They ran. They had been running for eternity it seemed. The throbbing in her legs had turned numb, her muscles forcing her to continue. The forest foliage had become a blur as they blended into the trees and the dirt, hiding every time a human soul came into view. Every tree, every vine, every rock became a hiding position or a hurdle to climb. Dirtied boots crunched over dead leaves and the sound pushed her further.

Arya was surrounded by the men of the North, but she had never felt more alone. Her father had been imprisoned, Sansa and Cassana confined to Maegor's Holdfast as leverage against her brother and family. And yet, she understood the sacrifice Cassana had made to protect her and her sister from the jaws of the lion. The desperation in the Baratheon princess' gaze had silenced her rebellious nature. She looked to Torren as he carried on in front of her, the leader of their rebel force determined by the capture of his liege lord. He would not toil in despair. If he could prove his loyalty to his master, he would convey Ned Stark's younger daughter to the safety of the North.

Her world, her childhood had been destroyed in one single day. Blood had been shed, the men of Winterfell all butchered by Lannister soldiers and the Gold Cloaks, and the Hand of the King betrayed by his fellow councilmen. Syrio, the most magnificent water dancer, had been slaughtered by Ser Meryn Trant. She had even used Needle to stab a poor stable hand, accidental but provoked, nevertheless. He would have been given her weight in gold if he delivered her into the hands of the queen.

She continued to scale steep hills, throw herself over fallen logs, her breath raspy and harsh. There was no route for them on the Kingsroad. She forced herself on. I must keep running. I must reach Robb. Her hatred sustained her as well as her hope. The start of a list of names repeated in her head would be the first to feel her ire.

Cersei. Joffrey. Ser Meryn Trant. The Hound.

Broken, Bran thought bitterly as he clutched his knife. Is that what he was now? Bran the Broken?

"I want to learn magic," Bran told him. "The crow promised that I would fly."

Cassana's world turned upside down when her marriage to Robb was annulled. Though she maintained the pretense of asking for one, it was for her own safety as well as Sansa's. Arya had disappeared much to her mother's disappointment. Dead in a ditch somewhere no doubt. Alys was by her side by the evening, confirming Torren had managed to escape through the tunnels leading to the seashore. They had rowed along the coastline until reaching their intended meeting point. Arya had indeed vanished, but she was far from dead and on her way to Robb.

Stripped from the Stark family and thrust into the arms of Joffrey, Cassana found herself navigating a perilous new reality. Ned had yet to be visited. Joffrey had not allowed it within the few weeks he had been confined with no food or water. She prayed Varys had somehow slipped into the dungeons unseen. But she had another obstacle to overcome.

"You are not to share chambers or be seen to engage in intimacy until the wedding, my sweet." Cersei was adamant about keeping her daughter and son away from one another until after the rushed wedding Joffrey had proposed to align with his coronation. They dined privately that evening, Myrcella and Tommen unaware as they played together at the end of the table. "If Cassana is seen to be corrupted, there will be rumors."

"Let them have their rumors, mother. As we know, the Red Keep is full of them, and they are all chased down and snuffed out eventually." Cassana smiled sweetly as Joffrey edged his hand up her thigh, swatting his hand away in play which only excited him more. Alys stood patiently to the side with Cersei's handmaidens, pouring the queen another glass of wine as she waved her over.

"I am the king," Joffrey spoke proudly, though not out of anger. "I will do as I please." Cersei turned to Cassana, waiting to see how she would proceed. Her greens studied her intently, waiting for her to show weakness.

Cassana drew her fingers across the top of Joffrey's hand, squeezing in persuasion. She too did not want Joffrey coming to her bed, unannounced and unprepared. "We must listen, my love. We will have plenty of time for you to indulge your appetites. And I do not mind if you have other ways to satisfy yourself before we are married."

Joffrey refused. "I shall have no others until we are married. You alone satisfy my hunger." His lecherous gaze matched his words and Cassana had to force a look of adoration on her features before she turned back to her plate.

"Shall Sansa join us?" Myrcella questioned, her attention straying from her dolls to her mother and elder siblings.

"Not right now, my darling. It's just us for tonight," Cersei murmured, glancing at her daughter over the edge of her goblet. Myrcella nodded, humming to herself before holding her doll up excitedly.

"Can I have a dress like this for the wedding?" It was a beautiful green that matched her irises and highlighted her golden curls.

"You can have whatever dress you desire, sister," Cassana replied. "Perhaps I should wear the same color. We can all wear green."

"I was thinking cloth of gold, Cassana. She looks best in gold, doesn't she Joffrey?" Cersei questioned. "Both of you should wear gold and crimson."

"Gold and white," Cassana interjected. "And my ladies shall wear the colors of their houses to show our unity with them. Or perhaps gold with their sigil embroidered. You can wear crimson, mother. After all, Lannister is your house not ours." Cersei's greens swept dangerously over her daughter's form; her smile sharp yet beautiful nevertheless.

"You are half Lannister, my golden doe. Do not forget that." How could she, with Cersei reminding her every minute? They carried the same secret, the same truth. If either revealed such, their downfall would be imminent. Their fates were tied together. She will be my undoing, my eldest daughter. Cersei could not help, but remember the cursed words spoken to her so many years before. You shall have four children. Gold their crowns, gold their shrouds. A throne of silver and blood looms above it all. Condemn one and danger will befall. The lion can hunt the prey but risk the tempest and endure the decay.

"I am—." Cassana faltered, Stark at the tip of her tongue. "I am a Baratheon. I was born a Baratheon, I will marry a Baratheon, I will die a Baratheon." Joffrey seemed ignorant of their fight, much more absorbed with his own thoughts.

"I'll wear a robe with the Houses of Lannister and Baratheon intertwined a lion and a stag head on head. And I want bannisters made to commemorate the day all hung through the sept and through the hall," he elaborated.

"Whatever you like, my love," Cassana simpered, catching Alys' wary expression at the queen's pursed lips. She was no fool. She knew her daughter too well. And she was pretending too hard. She looked down, staring at the one thing in this life that she must protect at all costs. Her womb had quickened, and she was carrying Robb Stark's child.

The sun was rising over King's Landing, casting a warm, golden light over the lush gardens of the Red Keep. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air as Cassana carefully navigated the gravel path, her hand resting protectively on her pregnant belly. She knew the risks of meeting Varys, the Master of Whisperers, but desperation had driven her to seek his counsel.

As she approached the secluded corner of the garden, the soft rustle of silk announced Varys's presence. The enigmatic eunuch emerged from the shadows with his usual serene demeanor, his eyes assessing her with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"Princess," he greeted her with a nod, his voice as smooth as ever. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this clandestine meeting?"

Cassana took a deep breath, her resolve firm. "We both know that Sansa Stark is in grave danger here," she began, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I want to help her escape, but I cannot do it alone."

Varys tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "And you believe I can be of assistance?"

Cassana nodded, her determination unwavering. "You're the only one who can. Your network of spies and informants is unmatched. Littlefinger is nothing. He seeks to use myself and Sansa to his own advantage. If anyone can help us get Sansa out of King's Landing, it's you."

Varys considered her words, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against his chin. "It is a risky endeavor, my lady. But I understand your concern for the girl. She is indeed in peril under the Lannisters' watchful eyes."

Cassana's gaze softened as she looked at him. "I fear for her safety, as I do for my own child. We must act before it's too late." Varys eyes glanced over her belly, still flat and hiding its secret.

Varys nodded, his expression growing more serious. "My congratulations to you, though I shall not ask who the father is. I believe I already know." Cassana tensed, glaring fiercely at the eunuch as she held her tongue. "Very well. We shall devise a plan. The docks are well-guarded, but there are other ways out of the city. I will have my little birds spread false rumors to distract the guards."

Cassana felt a glimmer of hope at his words. "And what of Sansa? Will she be able to reach the meeting point safely?"

Varys's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Leave that to me. I have a few loyal allies who can ensure her safe passage. She will need to be ready at a moment's notice, though. It could be weeks, could be months before our plan falls into place. The timing has to be perfect."

Cassana nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you, Varys. This means more to me than you know."

The Master of Whisperers inclined his head gracefully. "Remember, my lady, the game of thrones is played with pieces that are both fragile and dangerous. We must tread carefully. You should come with me. I have an important guest I must attend to." He extended his hand graciously, Cassana accepting the mysterious invitation without a second thought. "But first, there is the matter of diplomacy. I am needed in the throne room, and I am sure your presence is required as well.

Cassana had lingered in the gallery, her blue orbs calculating and observant as she watched the proceedings. And when Sansa approached, she acted aloof as she descended the steps deeper into the hall and left through the ominous doors, Joffrey's gaze following her. The sea of courtiers parted, bowing to their future queen. She cared less. She couldn't bear to watch Sansa plead for her father's life.

And when she waited outside the hall, hearing her mother dismiss Ser Barristan and insult his honor, she felt pity for the man. He had dedicated his life to her father's protection as well as her own, and her mother spat on him like he was little more than dirt. And to add to such insult, the council named Jaime as head of the Kingsguard.

"A hall to die in and men to bury me," Ser Barristan replied when Varys expressed his gratitude and his generous pension for his years of service. Cassana smiled briefly. "I am a knight. I shall die a knight." Swords were drawn when he defended his honor, and he left the hall with his dignity. Cassana stepped forward, halting the man in his path as he went to collect his belongings and depart.

"They may not appreciate you, my lord, but I certainly do." The man had watched her grow, had been a constant companion. He had been more of a father than Robert ever was. And now he looked at her in a new light. His harsh stare softened at her words, and he regarded her carefully.

"I need you," she whispered. "Please do not abandon me in these dire times, do not forsake me to my prison." She fell to her knees, her fingers tracing the steel of his armor as she looked up at him with teary blues. She had thought him the most magnificent warrior, after Robert of course. He was all she had left of her father, excluding Ned. And now she realized if he left, she would be utterly helpless. They were alone, save for the guards who had left their post and were making their rounds, their curiosity getting the best of them as they watched Ser Barristan aid the princess to her feet.

"Princess, I cannot stay. I have been dismissed from my duty," Barristan replied, holding her hands gently as he waited for her to release him.

"Your duty to my father or your duty to me?" Cassana asked, her determination making him swell with pride. "You take your vows for life. Make a vow to me. Be the head of my personal guard. They may not value your sword, but I do. There is no one else I would trust my life with. There is no one else I would trust my child's life with. If something should happen to me, I entrust my child's care to you and you alone. Do not make me regret my decision."

Ser Barristan was at a loss. "Does the king know?" he spoke lowly, checking their surroundings to make sure no eyes or ears were nearby.

"Not yet," Cassana revealed, lowering her eyes to her feet. "I haven't chosen the right moment, the right opportunity."

Ser Barristan lifted her chin in a fatherly manner, "You poor child. To be put in this position by your own family. By your own brother…"

"I am not a victim, my lord," she spoke sharply. "And if I recall you made vows to the mad king."

"Aerys was a tyrant, that is true. I even heard him harming his own wife, but we could do little to protect her from our king. And he would scream for hours when the sickness took him. Joffrey is—."

"He will be the monster my mother created," Cassana stated flatly. "I need you. Please," she begged.

Ser Barristan sighed in defeat. He could not deny her. "I am yours to command, princess."

Cassana had slipped away with Varys into the dungeons, undetected and silent as she tiptoed across the stone floor and eyed the pale red of the walls. They were the same color as blood, and she shivered in disgust. The caverns stunk of old straw and urine, and she wrinkled her nose as Varys led her deeper and deeper into the dark, the flickering light of the lantern their only comfort. Ned had been alone, his eyes no use to him. He was a blind man in those dungeons, his breathing his only companion.

His grief and his rage froze inside him while he dreamed of Winterfell and Lyanna. He would shed no tears even in the dark. And when Ned cast his sight upon Cassana, his greys spoke thousands and she stared at her feet in despair. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he spoke. "What are you doing here?" he spoke dryly, untrusting and unwilling towards her visit.

Varys opened Lord Stark's cell and the metal creaked open, Cassana stepping forward and falling to her knees as she removed her black hood. She was like death come to visit and Ned inched backwards as far as his cell would let him. Even when she held out a wineskin for him to take, he refused profusely those his lips and throats cried with anguish.

"You'll poison me like you poisoned your father," Ned declared.

"If you think I'm so wretched, wouldn't I have slit your throat in the throne room myself?" Cassana retorted, downing a few gulps of wine before shoving the skin into his hands. "Drink or I'll force it down your throat."

"I would do as she says, my lord. Best we don't anger the queen…"

Still hesitant, Ned eagerly swallowed the red liquid and groaned in satisfaction as his thirst was quelched. "The girls. What have you done with my daughters?"

"The younger one has fled, though no one can find her. My birds are clueless and the Lannisters have been emptyhanded. Though it shall be a kindness to her. Joffrey has no love for her. But the eldest remains betrothed to the king. And she has pleaded sweetly on your behalf," Varys relayed. "I trust you realize you are a dead man, Lord Stark?"

"No more than I am a dead woman, Varys." Cassana's blues studied Ned intently and the Lord of Winterfell was reminded again of his dear Robert.

"My daughter is still betrothed when your own has been announced?" Ned scoffed. "This new king knows no bounds. I am sure it's all a part of your scheming."

"The only way to keep Sansa safe is to bind her to Joffrey or would you rather her rot down here with you?" Cassana snipped back. "Would you rather she be passed from lord to lord without my protection? Without my mother's? She is of value to my mother until she decides otherwise."

Ned exhaled deeply, not having the energy to squabble. "I trust you laid your father to rest per his requests?"

Cassana bit her quivering lip, breaking the skin and drawing blood. "I am not heartless, my lord father. You confuse me for my mother."

"Your mother will not kill me, not when your uncle rots in the sky cells," he alluded.

"I'm afraid Lady Stark let the imp slip through her fingers," Varys sighed. "It was an admirable attempt, my lord, but justice found him in the end."

"And justice has failed me. Where were you when my men were slaughtered by Lannister swords?" Ned drank again from the wineskin.

"I am your friend, my lord. And there are many that still harbor love for you. But I am only a eunuch. There is little a Master of Whisperers can do in the face of steel. But I do know the queen shall come to you tomorrow or the next day, the queen mother. We have our new queen with us." Cassana scowled at the plump eunuch, clearly offended.

"I am queen in my own right. My mother is no true queen." Varys smiled, pleased with her outburst.

"Why would Cersei come to see me?" Ned was perplexed. He tried to adjust himself against the wall but was too weak to move without help. He was surprised when Cassana aided him, touching his brow with the back of her hand the way a daughter would a father. "What do you want from me?"

"Peace." Cassana withheld the urge to roll her eyes. There would be no peace with Cersei Lannister ruling in King's Landing. "Your son marches south as we speak with an army of northmen at his back."

"Robb? Robb's just a boy…"

"A man," Cassana affirmed aggressively. "Robb is a man who rides for battle in your defense. You give him no credit."

"And boys have been conquerors before," Varys added.

Ned's steely greys filled with clarification at Cassana's declaration. "You love him."

"I never said I hated him," Cassana huffed, her cheeks flushed red at his accusation. "But you need to make your peace with my mother. She has greater fears than Robb's approaching army. You wrote to my uncle Stannis. We both know he will show no mercy if he makes it to King's Landing."

"You ask for peace when Cersei has murdered my king? When she has butchered my men? When she has crippled my son?" Ned exclaimed.

"You are the challenge, my lord. But my mother has far more important matters to fear. Stannis will deny my claim as much as my mother. He would never join Robb. He's too prideful for that. And he will burn King's Landing with no mercy. Renly gathers his men from the Reach and the Stormlands, though he will only play the part of the king. He has no taste for blood. Only Ser Loras can convince him to engage in alliances or war. And as for Dorne, the vipers would sooner kill all the Lannisters than be their allies in war. Not after what happened to Princess Elia and the Targaryen children. Think of your children, Lord Stark," Cassana voiced.

"I ask you to serve the realm and maintain this peace long enough for you and your children to live. Send your boy home. Take the black. I am sure Cersei shall allow you to live if you take her secret to her grave," Varys explained.

Ned's stubbornness proceeded over reason. "You think my life is so precious to me that I would trade my honor? For what? For whom? I am no stranger to death. I grew up with soldiers."

"Your life may not be precious to you, but what of the life of your grandchild?" Ned's head shot up, eyeing the hand Cassana lay on her stomach. "I beg you, for the sake of this child, for the sake of your life, do as we ask, or we shall all perish."

Ned was wary, but he could not distrust the look in her blues. Pure desperation gazed back at him, and he reached his hand out to touch her growing belly. "You carry hope in your womb." Cassana laughed, her cheeks glistening with a few tears that had dared to spill.

"I carry a Stark. I carry a king."

A/N: Comments? Reviews?