Cassana

My breathing is shallow, my heart a void in my chest as I surrender the love I could have had, the love I ruined before it even truly began. Tyrion warned me, yet Jaime's words echo in my mind.

We don't get to choose who we love.

For a moment it was Robb. Those weeks with him feel so fleeting, yet there was such hope.

Now it feels as if that hope was only ever a dream. Whatever chance there was I destroyed for a love I knew could never be. They all warned me, yet here I am.

I could have lied. It's hardly like Jon would have been around much longer for Robb to discover the truth. But I can't lie. Not anymore. I need to save my lies for Kings Landing.

My mother stands in the doorway, for once concerned.

"You look as if you've aged years here in Winterfell."

"Perhaps I have. We'll all be returning to Kings Landing with more mistakes in our ledgers."

She eyes me carefully, no doubt wondering what I know, and what is still a mystery to me.

She tries to hide the nervousness in her voice. "And what mistakes have you made?"

"It seems us Lannisters are all doomed when it comes to love," I comment. "You, Tyrion." I look at her. "Jaime."

She treads carefully. "What of Jaime?"

I tilt my head and offer only a sly smile. "That is the question isn't it?" Before she can tread any further I change the subject, leaving her in her state of paranoia. "When do we return to Kings Landing?"

"After your drunken uncle heads North to the Wall," she answers and my stomach drops, knowing who leaves with him. "Are you suddenly glad to be leaving the Stark boy?"

"I'm not a fool," I answer, needing to hear it. "I know Grandfather has other plans for me, I hold more value than to be shipped off to the North. I know I will not marry him."

"Yes, but do not overestimate that value," she warns, giving me all the confirmation that I need, yet no amount could truly be enough. "You're scheme to take your fathers place on the council will not go over well."

I raise an eyebrow. "With who? The Red Keep? The council itself? Or with Grandfather?"

She makes a noise of surprise. "You are clever aren't you, far too clever for your own good."

And yet she still has no idea.

"Too clever for the liking of the Starks," I reply, still feeling the heat of Robb's anger towards me. "And for my own family it seems. Shouldn't you be supporting me considering your entire life you were sidelined for your sex?"

There is not just fear in her eye, but jealousy. "Do not think you won't suffer the same fate."

I smile. "We shall see."

~

It's late at night when I can bear to prepare to leave Winterfell. 

Jons' sword rests on my chest, to long to fit. In a way it's ironic, poetic even. That somehow fate was always bound to make sure it wouldn't be. That there would never be a moment of hope, from the beginning to the end.

There's a soft knock on the door in the middle of the night, and it's Jon who stands there, with an equal sorrow in his eyes.

"Can I?"

I nod and he shuts the door behind him. Just the presence of him overwhelms my senses, the silence between us agony until he breaks it.

"I know I shouldn't be here," he says hoarsely. "I know you have your duty to Robb."

"Not anymore," I say weakly and before he can ask any questions I ask "When do you leave?

"Tomorrow."

I press my eyes together, fighting the tears that come before I can bear to look at him and my voice is strained as I sit, to put distance between us. "Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?"

He shakes his head. "I don't think it's a good idea I stay in Winterfell." I nod in understanding and he whispers "Please just tell me it's not just me."

"It's not," I promise him and it's when I look into those dark eyes that I become undone. "When I came here, I could never have expected this."

He kneels down in front of where I sit and cups my cheek, wiping away the tears that spill down my cold cheeks. "The princess and the bastard, we both knew it would never end well."

"Jon please-"

"Everyone always calls me Jon Snow, always that sharp reminder of what I am," he says searching my eyes. "But you never do."

"Because it doesn't matter to me," I breathe, my hand covering his. "To me you're just Jon."

We're both trembling at each others touch.

"I've never given a shit who sits on the Iron Throne," he tells me, stumbling over his words. "Never could have cared, until I met you." It's then he sees the look in my eyes as I realise he doesn't know. "What is it?"

"I'll be returning to Kings Landing," I tell him and he looks confused by my resignation. "I struck a deal with my father, I'll willingly return as long as I can take his seat on the council and have my freedom. I'll be the representative of the king."

He still looks confused. "What does that mean?"

"That I'll be second only to the king in power."

Official power anyways, my grandfather is another issue.

The idea of such power seems to baffle him. "And what do you plan to do with all that?"

"Fix the mistakes of my family," I say, one particular mistake coming to mine, sleeping in this same castle yet to wake from what they've done. "To shake that damned snake pit of a keep to its core." And only then does the question find itself deep within my mind, of what I can truly do. "To rid this world of some of the bad in it, if I can end the corruption and make this world just a little bit better for all of us, princess or bastard, then I will have done my job right."

And he smiles for me, looks at me in a way only he truly ever has. "Kings Landing don't know what they're in for do they?"

"Not at all," I smile back at him and he squeezes my hand tight, the simple joys finding their way to my heart. "I'll even get to hold a sword."

He laughs with me and nothing has ever felt more natural to me, nor made me so warm. "I wish I could be there to see you."

"So do I," I smile tearfully and his voice drops.

"Does Robb know?"

At the mention of Robb I go utterly cold.

"He knows I'm leaving," I tell him and stammer. "Jon, he knows about us."

He swallows hard. "How much does he know?"

"Enough," I say, forcing myself to tell him the truth. "He came to see me earlier, he- he asked if I love you."

He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes wide. "And what did you tell him?"

"That I could," I answer honestly. "That we don't get to choose who we love."

He nods, at conflict with himself.

"He loves you, you know that right?" he asks, his voice thick with guilt.

"I know," I say quietly. "I told him that there is no chance for he and I, not after what I've done. From what I've gathered they've found a greater use for me then being here in the North, I suspect my betrothal to him will be ended. I told him that I could have loved him, but I can't."

He knows why, and it's why we share the same guilt. 

He dares to ask "And us?"

I look at him, my heart aching in a way I cannot comprehend. "I cannot make sense of this Jon, I wish I could but I can't, all I know is that my heart seems to know yours." My next words are the most dangerous of all. "And I can't help but wonder if you were the true born son, if it was you- if I'd stay. If I'd fight"

And as I say those words the answer comes to me. Robb no doubt believes I would choose power over him, over anything, I could see it in his eyes. Yet when I'm with Jon power is the last thing on my mind, all I want is to make this world better, a world in which I could love him regardless of standing.

"I've wondered the same," he tells me, squeezing my hand tight. "I've been jealous of Robb my entire life, he's always been better at me in everything, fighting, riding, girls. All of it. Until you came along, and you saw me. The bastard."

I shake my head and lean down to whisper "I just saw you."

And that's when his lips meet mine. All that can be heard is the howling of the wind in the silence as I pull him up, my fingers tangled in his mop of black curls. The kiss tears at my heart until it knows no conscious, no guilt, only him. 

His hand rests on my thigh as I pull him closer, still half kneeling before me, it's when my legs part to allow this that he pulls away. 

"We can't," he says, his breath ragged. "You'll be his wife."

I shake my head. "They have other plans for me."

"That still doesn't make this any less wrong."

"You're right," I breathe, removing myself from him. "If- if things were different perhaps there would have been a chance for us," I confess to him with a shaky breath as I try to maintain my composure. "But-"

"But there's not," he agrees sadly in agreement and takes a deep breath before looking back up at me. "Robb is a good man and he'll be a good husband to you, you have my word. So if you care for him, or for me, you'll be a good wife to him"

"Jon-"

"Promise me," he quakes. "Promise me that if there's a chance you'll love Robb, you and I both know you can. Please, promise me."

"I promise," I finally swear. "But I will never forget you Jon."

He gives me a sad smile. "And I know I'll never forget you."

He stands and I try to keep my composure as he walks to the door, yet he cannot bring himself to rest his hand on the handle. Cannot bring himself to leave.

And so I let my heart betray my conscience. 

"This is our last night in Winterfell," I say quietly. "Whatever sins we have, we leave here."

He looks back at me, knowing neither of us may never return, may never see Robb again. While he does not speak, his eyes betray his heart.

"Stay with me," I whisper, perhaps the most dangerous words I've ever uttered. "And come dawn we will leave whatever happens here, in this room."

He looks at me, the moonlight illuminating the shadows between us. Our only witness.

I stand and step towards him, with each step the ruffle of my dress making me painfully aware of the barriers between us. "Tomorrow you leave for the Watch, to give yourself to them for life. Swear to never take a wife." The tension between us is unbearable as I dare utter. "But tonight, we can pretend."

Pretend we aren't the princess and the bastard, but two lovers where our love isn't impossible.

With my heart bare for him I bring my fingers to the laces of my dress which hold the front together, with shaking hands I begin working at the laces until he reaches out and catches my hands, an apology sits on the tip of my tongue as he brings my hands away, yet it disappears as he takes the laces in his own hands. 

I swear I can hear my own heart as he slowly and silently works at them, I shudder at the cold air that hits the skin between my breasts, yet he does not expose anymore. It is my hands which allow the shoulders of my dress to slip away. He takes my face between his hands and kisses me, slowly and sensually now that the night belongs to us. 

My hands rest on his chest, fingers wrapping around the straps of his cloak which he helps me remove. We stand at almost the same height, our eyes level with one another as I take his hand and bring it to my dress, already hanging loose, and he captures my lips as his hand moves the dress down my body, my arms coming loose of their fabric bind to wrap around him as the front falls away, baring my breasts to him. His fingertips move along my bare spine before flattening over my skin, his lips on my neck as desperation overcomes us both and he slides the dress down my hips, kissing down my body.

The dress hits the floor just as his lips draw a gasp from me, my fingers tangle in his hair as we stumble back towards the bed, his tongue exploring where I've never touched. My whimpered pleas keep him on his knees as my legs open for him. My back falls down on the bed, fingers tangled in sheets as I writhe from his lips, from his tongue. Finally a cry escapes my lips as a sensation I've never known takes over my senses, and I'm crying out his name.

He covers my lips with his own and I taste myself on his tongue, his hand rests on my naked waist and I feel his rough clothing against my leg. My fingers make quick work of his jacket and the undershirt beneath, practically tearing it from him in my desperation for him. My hands explore his body, savouring the feeling of muscle beneath my fingertips, of his lips on my own.

He tears his lips from mine and for a moment panic fills my chest as he stands at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes on mine until he unlaces the drawstrings of his breaches until he stands naked before me. A sight which I can only liken to the art of the Free Cities. 

I take his hands in mine, our fingers laced as he covers his body with my own, my name on his lips as I give him my maidenhead, give it not to a stranger I've been sold to, but to the man I love.

And he takes it. 

~

Jon

Dawn rises as I watch her, sleeping soundly beside me, head on my chest and limbs tangled with mine. In this moment I am hers, and she is mine. A vow I will never be able to make.

No matter how badly I wish I could. Even if I abandoned the watch, I'd never be able to make them to her.

One thing I know for certain is that even if I never see her again, I'll never be able to forget her.

It's then she begins to stir, moving softly until those blue eyes look into mine.

Her lips fall into a smile as she breathes my name. "Jon."

"Cassie," I sigh, any words on my lips disappearing at the way she looks at me. 

The awe between us lasts only a moment as her eyes move away from me to the dawn shining through the window, and she takes it in with dread. A dread we share. 

"Come on," I say reluctantly. "We should get dressed."

She nods numbly and sits up, pulling the sheets up around her naked body, trying to hide her face from me. Not wanting her to believe whatever is going through her head I sit up and turn her cheek back towards me, catching the tears shining in those crystal coloured eyes of hers as I kiss her. I go weak as her fingers run through my hair, and when our lips part my forehead rests against hers.

"We should get ready before someone comes looking for us," she says softly and I nod, kissing her forehead as I climb out of bed, able to feel her eyes on my naked body as I bend down for my clothes scattered across the floor. I pull on my breeches then reach for her dress, the fabric soft to touch, much like her. 

"Thank you," she says as I pass it to her and take her hand. 

"Let me help you get dressed."

She gives me a soft smile as she gets out of bed, the sheets falling from her, and she's even more beautiful in the daylight with her tired eyes and messed hair. A vulnerability I've rarely seen, yet that seems to always be present when it's her and I alone.

She remains quiet as I help her into her dress, my fingers doing up the laces I undid in the dark of the night, when I knew I couldn't leave even if it meant betraying my duty. When I couldn;t leave without knowing her after she told me I'd never take a wife. And so I took her, the one woman I knew I could never take as a wife. The one thing that would always be impossible.

She helps me into my shirt and I wrap my cloak around her shoulders, knowing I'll soon don one of another colour. And she knows it as well.

"It's almost time," she whispers, looking down at the courtyard below. "They'll be looking for you."

Benjen, Father, Robb.

I'm glad I leave today, because I don't know how I'll be able to look my brother in the eye, even if she may not become his wife he still loves her.

He's not the only one.

I see my sword resting on her chest as I turn towards the door, glad I can leave her with something. It's then fear fills me, realising I may leave her with something else.

"Cassie," I quake. "If you fall with child-"

"I won't," she says quickly and looks at the floor. "I live in the city of brothels, us women know of the ways to prevent a child."

I nod with a lump in my throat, nonetheless trusting her.

With one hand on the door I look at her, knowing as she said, I'll be leaving my sins here.

"I love you," I tell her, and watch the tears slip down her cheeks, knowing I'll forever have this image of her engrained in my mind. "And I'm afraid that I always will."

My choice of words causes her to ask "Afraid?"

"Because I know years from now I'll remember you, and regret ever leaving."

I already regret it, but I know that whatever gods there are have made this impossible

"As will I, Jon," she says thickly. "But I don't fear it, because I know that no matter what becomes of me I'll always remember what it felt to love, and be loved."

And there is my answer, and the reason I need to leave. A love that is impossible.

When I leave she will go south, and I will go North, and I will never lay eyes on her again.

Even if my heart tells me different.

One thing I know for certain is that even if I never see her again, I'll never be able to forget her.

~

Cassana

Ser Barristan comes by as I'm packing the last of my things, my tears long dried.

"We will be leaving at midday, your father wants to ride it seems," he tells me and asks "Are you alright princess?"

I shake my head. "I'm leaving the man I love Ser Barristan, and I fear I will never see him again."

He looks at the sword on my chest. "It is not the Stark boy you speak of."

I shake my head, the tears coming again and he comes by me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "He knows that it can't be, instead of waiting here in Winterfell wasting his life he will make his vows and take the Black, he will serve this kingdom and therefore you. So do not cry for him princess."

Without regard for proper etiquette I find myself hugging him, the man who has always stood by and taken care of me since I was a babe. The closest thing to a loving grandfather I'll ever have.

Once my tears have dried he pulls back and lifts Jon's sword. "I will take this with me so the queen doesn't know."

"Thank you, Ser Barristan," I breathe, genuinely greatful.

"Now dry those tears princess, because I believe the other Stark boy is waiting for you outside."

I quickly wipe my tears away and compose myself, he waits for my nod before opening the door to Robb.

"I will see you in the courtyard," he says as men come in to take my chest, Robb is silent until they are gone.

"Cassana," he greets, the room immediately filling with tension.

"Robb?" I ask in confusion, guilt weighing on my heart. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

I swallow, still able to smell Jon's scent lingering.

"I thought we agreed there was no more to be said."

"I know," he says, inviting himself in and shutting the door. "So this is it, you leave today"

"I do," I say stiffly. "At midday."

He nods and takes a seat, elbows on his knees as he asks "Have you heard anything more about what they have in store for you?"

I shake my head. "I'll likely discover that when I sit on the council."

"So, you truly do think they'll marry you to someone else."

I nod, I wouldn't have laid with Jon if I believed I'd still marry Robb. I am not that cruel.

"I've spent years trying to guess who they'd wed me to," I tell him. "There's two contenders, the Tyrells and the Martells. One for money and one for peace. Except I've never wanted to wed either."

He sighs, genuinely at a loss for answers, and so he asks for them "So why have you gone out of your way to sabotage the one match you could have been even the slightest bit happy with?"

His question is harsh, but it is valid.

"So I can be in a position to choose my own match instead of being a pawn," I reply. "So I can have a choice."

"And if you had the choice?" he asks. "What choice would you make?"

I open my mouth but no words come out as his eyes shift from mine to the cloak around my shoulders and I shut my eyes at the realisation I've sorely fucked up. "Robb-"

"So that answers that," he replies roughly. "I shouldn't have come here."

He heads for the door and I call out his name "Robb!"

He looks back at me, and all I know is that I don't want to leave it like this.

"Jon bid me to be a good and loyal wife to you if there is still a chance," I tell him and he knows it's true, he knows his brothers loyalty. "You are his brother and he loves you even if he envies you, which something tells me you've never seen." The surprise in his eyes confirms it. "He loves you Robb."

"He loves you," he retorts and looks at the bed. "Was he here last night?"

"Robb-"

He raises his voice "Was he here!"

"Yes!" I yell back. "Yes, he was here to beg me to love you and not him!" And despite his anger, despite my desperation, my sins will stay here, and I will take them to my grave. "Your brother is loyal to you, and he is taking the Black because of that loyalty, to serve House Stark and the North which you are too blind to see!"

He falls silent, and I find my strength.

"I will return to the capital, and I will serve my House and my kingdom!" I swear, just as Jon shall. "I will do my duty just as he will do his."

I am strong, but so is he. "What about your duty to the man you are sworn to marry?"

"Robb, we will never marry as long as my families ambition rules, why can't you see that?" I tell him sharply and my frustration overcomes me. "I am heir to the two most powerful houses in the Seven Kingdoms. I am not just a Baratheon, I am a Lannister. My grandfather is the most powerful man alive and I will have no say in who I wed until I remove him from that pedestal."

He gapes at me. "So instead of fighting for us you decide to fight your own family."

"My family cares very little about one another," I laugh bitterly. "All that matters is the family name, which is why they would tear me from this castle screaming before allowing their most valuable asset to be wasted."

"Wasted?" he exclaims. "Is that what the North is to you all?"

I hold my chin high. "To my father and I, no, but politically, yes."

He shakes his head at me. "Don't pretend politics is all you care about while you've caused my brother to abandon his duty all because of your own spite."

My lips part at the thought he believes I've somehow seduced Jon out of spite towards him.

"If you believe that you are a fool," I say, utterly numb at what this has become. "Our love ended with your brothers fall, there was no spite involved."

He stares at me in bewilderment. "What does Bran have to do with this?"

If he wakes he will speak, until then it is just suspcion. But I know to trust my suspicions.

"I pray for your brother Robb," I say, the love I felt for him still there. "I pray he fell from that tower."

He goes pale. "What are you saying?"

"That regretfully I am a Lannister," I say quietly, betraying my own family for him. "And soon, our houses may yet meet on the battlefield if what I believe is true."

"Cassana," he grits out. "If what is true?"

I raise my hand to his bearded cheek and pat it softly. "You'll know if it is." I look into his blue eyes and for a moment remember the first time. "And you will know there was once love, if there wasn't I wouldn't be warning you."

His stoicness leaves him, and once again we are those naive children who fell without fear as he pleads "Cass, please."

"You will realise some day I did this to protect your heart, not break it," I say, knowing it was all so real until that day. That there was love. "And if it does come to war, I will be on your side. Not theirs."

I lower my hand, knowing I've said too much, but not near enough.

"You didn't do it to protect my heart," he says, and the words cut deep. "You did it to protect yours."

Finally he sees me as I am, and so I yield as I confess "I did."

And with that I leave him there in the empty room.

The room where I leave my sins.

~

I stand in the courtyard beside Ser Barristan.

"You look far older than you did when we arrived," he comments.

"I feel far older," I reply, unable to bring myself to look for him. "And I fear what may follow."

My eyes find Tyrion loitering with a flask in hand and I know this may be my last chance for answers before it all goes to shit.

Ser Barristan remains where he is as I walk straight to Tyrion who greets me merrily.

"Ah my dear niece, I was wondering if you'd come to bid me farewell," he grins but it quickly disappears when he sees the look I wear. The one I've hidden from everyone since I overheard my mother and Jaime "What's happened?"

More than he could ever know.

"Why are my mother and Jaime afraid?" I ask knowing I cannot let him leave without confronting him, otherwise it will drive me mad. And I trust him more than either of them.
He's caught off guard however quickly pulls himself together, but not quickly enough. "Your mother is afraid to give her daughter to a man she hardly knows and Jaime is worried about her as any brother would be. I certainly am."

Deflection. I've always known him to be able to talk himself out of anything, I shouldn't have expected anything else from him.

"My mother knows I won't be given to Robb, and Jaime wrapped his hand around my throat when I dared confront him over the love he bears my mother," I grind out harshly and his eyes widen as I ask "Why are they afraid of Bran waking?" He can't hide the alarm that momentarily crosses his eyes which only makes me more fearful "Why did you say that you'll be interested to hear what Bran has to say when he wakes?"

He glances towards Ned and abruptly grabs my arm to pull me down to his level "Have you said anything to Robb?" he whispers under his breath, his voice thick with panic.

"Of course not," I lie, pulling my arm free before anyone notices. "Why do they not want Bran to wake?"

He opens his mouth and I whisper sternly "Do not lie to me." His eyes widen in fear and he struggles to find words. He's never seen me so harsh.

"Cassana," he begins carefully "For the love of our family forget what you saw, forget what you heard. Please."

"Why?" I ask as I glance towards Robb, having one last conversation with his father. "I've spent the weeks since trying to rationalise what I heard and I can't, so why don't you enlighten me Tyrion?"

"There is so much you don't know, so much you don't understand," he croaks painfully. "For the sake of our lives please don't say anything to anyone, don't ask any more questions."

"Our lives?" I repeat as I begin to realise the gravity of what they've done, that my suspicions may somehow be worse than I thought. That they weren't merely bystanders to tragedy, although my suspicions have already progressed past that. 

"If Bran wakes then we will talk about it but not now," he promises. "They already suspect us for Jon Arryn."

"Jon Arryn?" I exclaim and he quickly hushes me as Benjen approaches us, with Jon walking behind him. 

I thought Jon Arryn died of a fever, but then again it is the Red Keep. Gods of course someone killed him, that fever was far too quick and convenient.

But the question stands, what did he know?

"So you truly are coming with us Lannister," Benjen laughs in disbelief. "I hope you don't expect as warm a reception at the wall."

"As long as I can stand on the wall and piss off the edge of the world I will be happy," he laughs with Benjen but neither Jon or I laugh at his joke. Something Benjen and Tyrion both notice. 

"Come, lets get you to your horse," Benjen says, and the look Tyrion gives me says all he needs to as Benjen guides him away, that he knows.

Jon and I look at each other, and I want to beg him again not to go, but Ser Barristan is right about him taking the Black.

"So this really is goodbye," I breathe, keeping an appropriate distance from him.

"It is," he says and looks to his sisters, readying themselves. "Take care of them."

"You know I will," I say, and that is one promise I intend to keep. 

"You aren't the only one taking a sword with you," he says looking at Arya and I smile.

"Well I suppose I'll have to find someone to teach us both," I remark, wanting this to be a happy moment. "I am proud of you Jon, we'll both be serving the realm."

"Well, it's what we're both meant for," he says with a comforting half smile which falls as he looks behind me, I follow his gaze expecting Robb, but instead see Ned and Benjen deep in conversation, watching us. 

"Shit," I whisper, anyone whose paid half a mind of attention to us can surely see what's developed between us. "They know."

"It's alright," he says, despite his own fears. "It will be over soon."

And gods does it hurt. "I wish it didn't have to be this way."

"So do I," he says but falls silent as Robb approaching. I immediately go still, afraid of confrontation, but when he leans for Jon it isn't to hurt him, but to embrace him.

I breathe a sigh of relief, but Jons guilt still lingers as he pulls away "Robb-"

Robb shakes his head "You don't need to say anything, you're taking the Black."

And all their sins are forgiven when they take the Black.

They embrace again, Jon trying not to become emotional at Robbs forgiveness. And if one thing is clear, it is the love they have for one another.

"Next time I see you, you'll be in all black," Robb remarks.

"It was always my colour," Jon replies, looking at the cloak I wear.

The brothers look at each other, no more words needing to be spoken.

"Farewell Snow," Robb says.

"And you Stark."

Jon looks to me and I give him whatever smile I can muster. "Goodbye Jon."

"Goodbye Cassie," he says, and with a nod of his head he turns and walks towards Benjen, now with Tyrion and the others destined for the black.

I maintain my composure in the sight of the Starks and feel Robbs hand on my back.

"Cass." I look at him, knowing they are waiting for me. "Take care of my sisters."

I could almost laugh at the irony, him and Jons last request of me.

"Of course."

I still as he brings me in for an embrace, yet it makes sense as he murmurs in my ear "Don't let Sansa marry Joffrey. You might be the only person who can stop it."

The idea makes the hairs on my arms raise, and I look at him and promise "I won't let it happen."

"Thank you," he breathes and I hug him again, not wanting to leave with bad blood between us.

"When I came here you promised me your family and your name," I remember, with no more tears left. "I may not take it but I swear to you that I will defend it."

He looks at me, for the first time in so long without animosity or anger, but how he did at the beginning. He brings his hand up to my cheek and strokes it, and I feel the fondness I still bear him. 

"Goodbye Cass."

I reach up and press a soft kiss to the corner of his lip for the love we had, and for what could have been. "Goodbye Robb."

And with that I turn my back on him and walk to where Ser Barristan waits to take me to the carriage I will share with Myrcella, and pray the next time I see Robb our houses won't be at war.

But as I leave Winterfell the pit in my stomach tells me otherwise.