Cassana

By the time I reach Renly's camp I've grown delirious. I didn't dare stop for fear the Gold Cloaks would find me. Once I've reached the outskirts of the camp I attempt to climb off my horse only to end up falling hard on my side in the mud. I force myself to my feet and hold my head high. I've escaped the capitol and now I'm running back into the arms of the man who betrayed me.

He will know my wrath.

I enter the camp and the men step back, turning a shade paler as I walk past, still saturated in blood and mud.

"Is that?"

"By the gods that's the princess!"

"I thought she was dead."

The men begin bowing their heads in respect, with some coming to kneel as I pass.

"Princess."

I have not been forgotten by my people.

Then I see one man I recognise.

"Oh gods Cassana," Loras stammers in his useless pretty armour as I approach him "The blood"

"Where is Renly," I ask and he points towards a large crowd of men.

I approach and hear the unmistakable sounds of a melee tournament. The crowd quickly parts and I step into the clearing, pushing past the two men duelling to stand before Renly. 

He turns pale as he sees me, his eyes wide with fear as they should be.

"Hello Uncle."

He runs down from his place high above to embrace me but of course stops himself at the sight of me, not wanting to dirty his expensive clothes. 

"How- how did you escape?"

I look him coldly in the eye.

"I escaped after Joffrey sent men to kill me," I say holding my blood stained hands up. "But I suppose you wouldn't know, you left me for dead."

He gapes at me while the men surrounding us murmur amongst themselves. Renly grabs my arm and roughly pulls me aside to drag me to his tent.

His fingers did into my fragile arms as he pulls me inside "Why would you say that?"

"Because it's the truth!" I explode pulling my arm free and shoving him with what strength I have left. "You promised, you swore yourself to me then you disappeared in the night like a fucking coward!"

"Yes I ran, but I did not leave you for dead."

"Yes you did!" I scream shoving him again. "Where were you when I rotted in those cells? When Joffrey had an executioner put a blade at my neck? When he sent his guards to rape and murder me!"

He swallows hard and raises his hands "Cassana, I didn't know, I didn't know he would- did they?"

"No," I say touching the sword at my hip, but my nails are so much sharper. "But they tried. You were supposed to protect me! I loved you Renly and you abandoned me when I needed you!"

"Cassie- no!"

I launch at him with my claws, sharp as a lions and it's only when Loras wrestles me from him I feel the skin and blood beneath my nails and bare my teeth in satisfaction of the scratches left deep along his face and neck, having become an animal after being caged for so long.

His voice quakes with pure shock "Cassana, I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

I fight against Loras, screaming "And you had the audacity to call yourself king after you betrayed me!"

"I was going to free you-" he begins but I cut him off.

"No. Robb was going to free me. He is still marching south and fighting a war while you've been playing at one. Tell me, have you even killed a man Renly? Because my hands are soaked with blood."

He does not answer and I know that he is finally seeing me as my fathers daughter. Not a Lannister, not a spoiled little princess, but the flesh and blood of Robert Baratheon.

"If you hate me so much then tell me, why aren't you with Robb Stark?"

I could speak the truth, that is was desperation that brought me here, but I will not let him have the satisfaction.

"I am here for my throne," I declare as I shove Loras off me. "For my men. I am not a fool, I know you used your promise to free me to rally these men. They are not here for you, they are here for Robert Baratheons daughter."

I could not give a damn about my throne or titles anymore, all I want is to make him hurt. His lips press together into a hard line and although all of that was a guess I seems I was right. His voice is a whisper. "I can't."

"Yes you can, and you will."

He pulls open the flap of the tent and points to the soldiers. "Most of those men are from the Reach. If I support your claim they leave and Stannis will overpower us."

That means Stannis has more men than I thought. When I heard how many men Renly had rallied I assumed they were mostly from the Stormlands.

"Loras managed to summon this many men?" I ask as I begin to realise what he's done. "Mace wouldn't agree to it unless-"

Margaery enters and bows her head to me "Princess Cassana, I am so relieved to hear that you are safe." She then takes a good look at the blood staining me head to toe. "You must have the maester treat you, I can't imagine what you have experienced."

I laugh, her betrayal cutting deep. "You bitch."

"Cassana-"

Loras catches me as I launch at her, just before I can claw her like Renly, mark her stupid beautiful face and lying mouth, a scream's torn from my throat as tears burn in my eyes.

An armoured woman appears and Renly orders her "Take my niece to her tent. She is in a state of hysteria."

"Hysteria?" I laugh as I feel a gentle hand on my arm that must be Margaery. "You haven't seen hysteria yet."

"You are unstable," Loras says. "Mad."

He grabs my wrist as I go to hit him and I struggle against his grip, a reminder of how weak I've become.

"Cassana," Margaery says, tugging on my arm. "Let me take you to your tent."

"I am perfectly fine," I mutter, pulling my arm free and announcing. "I may be mad but at least I can still carry myself with more dignity than any of you treacherous cunts."

The armoured woman rough handles me from the tent and the men stare, no doubt having heard the commotion, as I'm taken to a tent under guard.

~

Night falls and I sit submerged in a tub of steaming water. It's not long before the water turns red as the blood peels from my skin. The blood of my only friend and my own as well as others. I reach up and hiss as I touch my throat, it was cut deeper than I thought. It will certainly scar.

This is an even bigger mess than I had anticipated.

 If it was just our soldiers out there then I could easily rally most of them but the majority are from the Reach. It seems the Stormlands are split between Renly and Stannis. If I were not alive Stannis would be the true heir, however unlike Renly Stannis does not care for me. There is less than a decades difference in age between Renly and I, we have always been close. Behind my anger there is pure pain at his betrayal. I truly would have made him my heir and my hand. 

Now he shall never even dream of it.

The people of the Stormlands love me, they see me as Roberts little girl, their princess. Their affection for me may just outweigh their loyalty to Renly and he knows it, but the Reach is loyal to Renly through Margaery and Loras, and unfortunately we need them to beat the Lannister forces.

I cannot press my claim without weakening our forces, but I can strengthen them by putting myself in a position of power rather than in chains. 

I will settle for peace. For now I must focus on the long game. The throne doesn't matter, all that matters is justice.

"Princess?" A voice calls from outside and I watch as Margaery enters my tent with a black dress in hand. "Renly gave me some of his mother's dresses to suit the climate, however you are far more in need of them than I am."

I remain silent and even she cannot hide her anxiousness, her fear. 

"How long has it been since we've seen each other?"

"Since you betrayed me and left me to die," I answer and she looks at the ground. "I was the fool trusting a Tyrell. The Queen of Thorns's own prodigy. Although, I never thought a lover to whom I'd offered so much would abandon me for the weaker Baratheon."

"I had to make a choice," she tries to make me understand. "I could be your mistress, or I could be a queen."

"For a few months until he gets himself killed by Stannis," I say and I know the thought has crossed her mind. "He may make a charming king, but he is weak. My father knew it, Stannis knows it."

"Which is why I will be his queen, which is why I have brought sixty thousand men," she says, trying to rationalise it. "I had to put myself first Cassana, you were too reckless."

"And Renly's not?" I counter, putting the doubts in her head. "He's sitting here playing king with jousts instead of fighting a war. Unlike the King in the North who is winning every battle against the Lannisters."

"And yet you betrayed him," she counters with what I'd confided in her. "How tragic indeed."

 "Tell me Margaery, why do you think you'll be the exception?" I ask her. "You watch and anticipate the downfall of everyone around you, but believe you are clever enough to avoid the same fate while playing the same game with the same pieces. Congratulations, in your genius plot you've branded yourself a traitor like the rest of us."

I watch her watching me as she walks closer, until she stands by the edge of the tub where my naked body is visible beneath the mix of blood and mud which cloud the water. "We were so close Cassana. So many nights in your bed."

"Don't act as if you weren't an equal accomplice in this affair."

She reaches for my hand resting on the edge of the tub. "It doesn't have to end Cassana. You and I can work together just as we always did, to win this war, you will be Renly's hand and heir. We don't need to fight." I watch in amusement as she tries to seduce me. "Come to bed with me tonight, let us put this to rest."

She kneels down beside the tub so her face is level with mine, her eyes on my lips as she runs her fingers along my bare shoulder and my eyes close as she kisses me softly. I take her hand as I slide up out of the water, feeling the cool air on my breasts. She takes my hand to help me out of the water and my eyes flit from her lips, to the low neckline of her dress which shows the curve of her breast and back to her eyes.

"Margaery."

I stand naked before her, shameless, and watch the way her eyes look me over.
Eyes that are sharp, perceptive. She knows how weak Renly's claim is, and she knows the importance of having me on her side. Now I've put the doubts in her mind she is looking for a second plan. 

And so I kiss her as I used to, backing her up against the table, my hand sliding down her throat, down her breasts until it reaches the knife on the table which I hold to her throat. She breaks away at the kiss of silver and for the first time I see true fear in her eyes.

"Let me tell you how this is going to work Margaery, this will be on my terms not yours," I say sharply. "You are not a queen, not truly. You best remember that. I have no interest in sleeping with you, because I'd be far too tempted to cut your throat after you left me to die. You and I are the most intelligent people in this camp, which is why I will keep you as my ally instead of an enemy. Us women ought to stick together right?"

The fear fades from her eyes as she holds my cheek "I never meant to break your heart."

"It was never yours to break."

"But I still broke it," she says quietly, and wraps her hand around mine, lowering it from her throat. "I've seen your heart Cassana, and it is good, you are the most sincere lover I've had."

My voice shakes as I ask "Was it ever real? Even for a moment?"

"It was," she says, but tears fill my eyes as I blink at her.

"I don't believe you," I whisper. "I can't."

"Believe me," she says, pressing soft kisses to my lips. "It can be just as it was."

Whatever trust I had in her is broken beyond repair.

As is whatever love I bore her.

"Leave me," I request, the fight gone from my voice. "I know what you want and you know what I want. There is a price for those who venture near the throne, something you will learn as I have."

She looks to my fragile starved body and the cut on my neck, despite her composure she does look unnerved by my promise.

She hands me the dress, accepting my terms. "So tell me, how would we work together?"

I allow her to help me dress as I tell her. "To survive this war House Baratheon must be one united force, both on the battlefield and behind closed doors. Unlike Stannis I can put my pride aside for the greater picture, I don't know if Renly can. But we must try, for the sake of all our heads."

"And us?"

"We could fight and try to constantly undermine each other but I believe that if we are friends then our friendship would be far more beneficial for us both."

"Just friends?" she asks and I think of Robb. I cannot betray him again.

"Just friends," I say without room for argument. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding."

"As am I," she says, but I swear I can hear her voice waver at my decision. "Goodnight, Your Grace."

She leaves me and I'm left empty, yet I know it is right. 

And I cringe knowing the knife Margaery left in my back has caused me only a fraction of the pain I've caused Robb.

Oh what have I done.

I still remember that last fight we had in my bedroom at Winterfell, clear as day.

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

I lowerered my hand from his face, knowing I'd said too much, but not near enough.

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

Finally he saw me as I was, and so I yielded as I confessed "I did."

I shake my head at the memory, at how stupid and prideful I was. I was a fool.

All I can do now is fulfill my promise.

That in this war, it will be his side I take.

No matter the cost.

~

Days later after confinement I am seated at a war meeting, listening to so much nonsence and nothingness, no plans but to wait here as if being a sitting duck on a defenceless cliffside could win the war alone.

"We have yet to decide on any form of council," Renly says and Margaery looks to me with guilt in her eyes.

"Name Cassana as your hand and heir," she pleads with him. "The same deal she gave you, for all of our sakes, please."

Renly clears his throat. "Cassana, you've been oddly silent. Would you accept this?"

It seems my silence has terrified them more than my rage, both Renly and Margaery scrambling to keep me on their side.

"I do, but I have one question," I say, having been pondering for days now by the cliffside how to handle my newfound situation. And have found using my words sparingly most beneficial. "When are you planning to tell me Robb demanded that our betrothal be honoured? Or were you too afraid I'd run away, ruining your entire cause?"

He and Margaery share a look and he splutters over words "I- I didn't realise you were aware."

I raise an eyebrow. "Funny that, that you believe me to be ignorant."

"We don't," Margaery intervenes. "We are just trying to protect you, considering your current state of body and mind."

I look at the healing scratches dragging down Renly's face and neck. "I request access to the financial and military records, so we may make the best allocations of both money and men. As jousts make proper use of neither."

Renly nods to Loras to bring them to me and he sits the records on the table before me, already I'm unimpressed by how poorly they've been kept.

"Anything else?" Renly asks tensely.

"Yes. We will be contacting Dorne in light of three kingdoms breaking with the crown for their support. It was denied while I was sitting in a cell but they will reconsider." They share a look and I ask "What have I not been informed of."

"Myrcella has been promised to Prince Trystane," Margaery tells me and I still. "We recieved word just this morning that she is being sent to Dorne to be a ward under Prince Doran's supervision until she is of age."

If they've sent her to Dorne as the sacrifical lamb they must be desperate. "Nonetheless, we will still make our intentions clear so at the very least they will stay neutral in this matter."

I can imagine my mothers screaming fit she must have had at losing her last daughter to this war, and find it difficult to pity her after she has brought it upon herself.

"And the North?" Margaery asks.

"The North is my strongest ally," I make clear. "Their king has made that known by his demands to the crown."

"Yes Robb's demands we know well of," Renly mutters. "His fathers body and his sisters returned I can grant, but for the North to be independent, it is unheard of."

I look at him, the sharpness of my voice making my stance set as stone. "King Robb," I correct. "He is a great man and general, he will be treated as such and his demands shall be respected by the Stormlands and their Lady."

"Their Lady?" Renly repeats and I tilt my head at him.

"Well if you are calling yourself king of the Seven Kingdoms then by inheritance I am now the Lady of the Stormlands, and therefore inherit Storms End."

He knows he has dug himself into this trap, and that there is no way out. When my father was made king he set the precedent by leaving Storms End to Renly and Dragonstone to Stannis. As Renly's heir, the Stormlands are now mine.

Something he had failed to realise. 

"So say what you may, King Renly," I say and he can't meet my eye. "The Stormlands stand in full support of King Robb and his demands. So I will put my men to use."

The entire table, filled with knights and generals from the Reach and little from the Stormlands share stunned looks, yet none dare to speak against me.

"I expect you will make the anouncement at this afternoons joust," I instruct as I stand to dismiss myself and pick up the records, bowing my head to the king. "It is a pleasure to serve the king, now I will put my kingdoms accounts in order."

And I leave that war meeting, knowing the Stormlands troops are mine, not his, as the King of the Seven Kingdoms has no standing arming loyal to the crown, only his houses.

Now his power as a king rests in my hands, right were it should lie.

~

Margaery and I stand on either side of Renly as he prepares to make the announcement.

"I would like to welcome home my Princess Cassana," he says and the men all cheer wildly while those who are a bit more docile raise their swords to me. "Who fought and escaped from the capital, and has decided to support me as King to dethrone Joffrey." They continue cheering at the mention of getting rid of Joffrey and Renly declares "I have decided to name her Hand of the King and my heir until my wife Margaery bears a son. In the event I fall in battle she will inherit the Iron Throne."

Margaery smiles as I step forward to address them, but I know inside she knows she has lost as she will never bear Renly a son, or a child at all. She has misculated in siding with him and she knows it.

"I am Cassana Baratheon, Lady of Storms End and the only trueborn child of your late King Robert," I declare, although the pride that once came with such a title is gone. "You are my people and this is our home. Together we shall defeat the tyranny of the usurper Joffrey and remove the Lannisters from power. My father begun a rebellion to dethrone a mad king and now I follow in his steps to do the same. We shall continue my fathers legacy and bring about a golden age of Westeros."

They all raise their swords for me and we both know that while Renly may call himself king I am the true queen. That I am to him, what Tywin was to my father. Except he is clever enough to realise it, only too late.

"To win this war we must be one united front, on the battlefield and behind closed doors." I look at Renly who stares at me as if I am a ghost and then back to the crowd. "My father once asked me what was the bigger number, five or one. His answer has stayed with me since I was a child. The answer was one. One army, a real army. United behind one leader with one purpose. And I am most grateful for Renly and his wife standing behind me as I prepare my men alongside those from the Reach and soon the North to remove Joffrey from the throne."

Renly doesn't argue, in his eyes I almost see regret. He knows the truth as well as I do. That I now hold the power, and he is merely a puppet.

Now I have claimed what can never be disputed, my claim on Storms End, I can meet with Robb to fulfill the promise I made him. To ally with him.

Although the thought of seeing him, of looking him in the eye, is the only thing I truly fear.

Somehow he still wants me for a wife, and I will not deny him that, not in the midst of war against the same enemy. I just pray he can find it in his heart to forgive me, or at the very least not despise me for all I've done.

~

Robb

Greywind and I arrive at Renly's war camp in the Stormlands with a dozen guards. We are escorted through the camp and I'm surprised to find a tournament rather than men prepping for war.

The crowd parts and keeps their distance from Greywind as we walk onto the tourney ground. Sitting on a scaffold is a man who is unmistakably Renly Baratheon, only a few years older than I am and wearing a gold Baratheon crown in a similar style to Cassana's belt she always wore, and a woman about my age who must be his wife sits beside him.

"Your Grace, I have the honour to bring you Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell and King in the North."

"King in the North, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, I can finally understand why my niece was so taken by you," he comments curiously then looks to the woman seated beside him. "May I present my wife, Margaery of House Tyrell."

"You are very welcome here," she says courteously. "I am so sorry for your loss."

"You are kind my lady," I say, my attention on Renly, he is certainly not what I have expected. He looks unblooded aside from the scratches at his face and neck, clearly a personal attack rather than something gotten from battle.

"I swear to you I will see the Lannisters answer for your fathers murder," Renly says to me, but the words feel hollow. "When I take King's Landing, I'll bring you Joffrey's head."

The crowd roars and and I judge him heavily. He hasn't even begun marching to Kings Landing nor fought any battles. It appears he's a king by name only, I don't think he understands that wearing a crown doesn't make him a king.

"Well, it seems little has been done about that, my lord," I remark and his wife looks towards the camp. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but these men are not preparing to march on the capital, rather biding their time."

"Your Grace," a tall woman in armour hostily corrects. "And you should kneel when you approach the King."

"There's no need for that", Renly dismisses. "Lord Stark is an honoured guests."

With the emphasis on lord, it's clear this is not going as planned.

"Have you marched against Tywin Lannister yet?" A man in engraved floral armour asks. He looks more like a boy than a man.

"Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of the Flowers," one of my guards informs me and I scoff under my breath taking a long look around at the joust set up.

"I've just come from a victory at Oxcross," I inform him, realising why Cassana never wanted to marry him. "I am actually fighting a war, not playing at one."

The Tyrell boy shuts his mouth and his men murmur amongst themselves as Renly clears his throat. "Then tell me why are you here and not with your men?"

"I came to discuss an alliance between our houses so you may actually join this war, and to discuss my betrothal to your niece, Cassana, who has been left to the black cells."

At the mention of her name commotion starts amongst the men which Renly struggles to silence. "I- I am aware of your demands."

"Very good. As you claim the throne I expect you will honour these demands," I state, staying my ground. "You will grant the North independence from the realm and uphold your brothers vows to my father to join the houses of Starks and Baratheon through Cassana and I, once we rescue her from the capital."

He and his bride exchange a knowing look, the bride seeming far more pleased than him. 

"Margaery, would you fetch the Hand of the King please," he instructs. "I'm going to have a conversation in private with our guest."

She nods and gives me a coy smile as she happily leaves. He's likely appointed Mace Tyrell as his hand if she's his bride. Even so, something doesn't quite feel right as Renly guides me to the cliffside.

~

Cassana

I'm going through the plans for the ships and trying to block out the screaming from the tournament when Margaery enters my tent. "What is it?"

"Renly has asked for you," she smiles far more genuinely than I've seen of late, although I have been in solitude for the most part. "He is at the joust."

"Why would I support him spending money on a bloody joust when the coin could be spent towards the war?" I mutter glancing at the inventory. "As master of coin and ships and laws it seems I am too busy to entertain his joust. As his small council consists of me and me only, since I am the only one taking this war seriously."

She only cocks her head to the side and raises her eyebrows in agreement. We both know the frustration of men far too well.

"Please come and enjoy the tournament, give yourself a break," she suggests and again makes clear. "Renly is asking to see you."

Rolling my eyes I put my quill down and sigh heavily as I follow her outside into the fresh air, the one thing I've truly missed about home is the cliffs that overlook the seaside and the breeze that comes with it. He set up camp not too far from Storms End but far enough so we are out of danger of the camp being blown away.

She walks me past the tournament but Renly isn't there "Where is he?"

"I believe he was escorting a guest through the camp he'd like you to meet," she says leading me over to where the camp ends and the cliffs begin "I believe he's just over there."

And so I huff a little as I walk over, my body is still weak even though it's been weeks since I escaped the capital. I keep reminding myself it will take time to put the weight back on and build up my strength, but it couldn't happen soon enough.

I come to the edge of the camp and squint as a large wolf runs alongside the cliffs and I blink in disbelief. That can't be a direwolf? I come into the clearing and look up at the cliffside only to have the breath sucked from my lungs as I see him standing tall and armoured beside Renly with his back to me.

No, it can't be him. He's in the Riverlands, why in the names of all the gods would he be here? He couldn't have known I was here.

It's not him. It can't be.

Robb

Renly guides us through the camp, with Greywind following close behind us. His men seem to like him enough. He is a somewhat likeable man to them I suppose, but I can't take him seriously as a king.

"I have a hundred thousand men at my command. All the might of the Stormlands and the Reach."

"Then why haven't you taken the capital?" I ask bluntly. "You have enough men."

"My Hand is insistent that we need ships to take the capital, however my brother Stannis has all of those," he says, however I can tell it's just an excuse. If he had the balls to march against Kings Landing he would have done it by now. "He'll be arriving here in a few days time to negotiate, I suspect it will end in a battle."

"Brother fighting against brother," I comment unable to imagine ever fighting against Jon or Theon in battle, not to mention that strategically fighting amongst themselves is the worst thing they could possible do. "Why not be a united front against Joffrey?"

"Oh you sound just like my hand," he comments, almost ironically and simply answers "Because Stannis calls himself king."

"Then why don't both of you support Cassana's claim?" I ask, as I begin to wonder why he hasn't from the beginning if they are so close. "She is Roberts only trueborn child."

"She is a woman, a hysterical one at that," he says as if I didn't already know that. "And besides, wouldn't you rather her be in the North with you?"

I open my mouth to argue but I can't. If it was up to me I'd get her away from that city, away from the throne. However it's not up to me.

"If there is one thing I know about Cassana, it's that she cannot be controlled," I say, knowing that if she agrees to this, calling her a difficult wife would be an understatement. "So you'd be aware I'd have no say in that matter."

"It's good to see you've already accepted it," he sighs as we walk along the cliffside. "I'm only just now learning how difficult she is."

"Now?" I ask confused. "Have you heard from her?"

He looks behind me. "Allow me to introduce the Hand of the King."

I look behind me and the world stills when I lay eyes on her, her wide eyes just as shocked as I am. Her mouth falls open and she looks at me in disbelief while I look at her in horror. At the scar across her throat and frail frame, her black hair unkempt, so different to the girl I first laid eyes on in Winterfell.

"Cassana?" I breathe, unable to believe the broken woman standing before me, little more than skin and bones, standing before me is the same girl I fell in love with.

"Robb," she whispers, Renly silently leaves us, and we stare at one another, just the two of us, alone by the cliffside.

These past months whenever I've been called king it has felt foreign, still so unreal me, it is only now as the princess and true queen of the Seven Kingdoms bends the knee to me the true gravity of it hits.

"Cass?" I murmur, raising her chin up. "What are you-"

"It's customary to kneel before a king," she says looking up at me in the way I always wished she would. "And you are the only king in this realm I would ever kneel for."

"Cass," I say again in awe of her, at the emotion in her eyes I had never seen before, something that cannot be faked. 

"Forgive me," she quakes. "For everything."

When I made my demands I expected her to be unrepentant, with the same vain pride she held the last time I ever saw her. I never expected to find the shell of her, on her knees begging for me to forgive her. I take her trembling hand and help her to her feet, searching her eyes and finding little but agony, and against my better senses I hold her to my armoured chest, cradling her to me, remembering a simpler time, still in awe of having her in my arms.

 "I didn't know if you were alive."

"Forgive me," she cries, her voice thick with tears and I hush her, a hand on the back of her head as my cheek rests against her hair. "I should have listened to you, I should have-"

"It doesn't matter now," I say, tilting her head back enough for her to look at me, to look her in the eye, and whatever anger I held for her is gone, only regrets are left. "We're here now, and we can't change what happened."

She nods, stiffling her tears, and rests a hand on my chest, proud. "Look at you, the King in the North." 

"It still doesn't sound right," I admit to her, realising just how deeply I've longed to confide these things to her, to the one person who may understand. 

"It suits you Robb, many understimated you, me included," she confesses, sacrificing her pride for honesty. "And here you are. The only true king."

"You know I never wanted it," I tell her and she is silent, ashamed. "All I want is justice."

"Then we will get it," she promises me, and what she says next truly stuns me. "My men are yours to command."

I'm at a loss, the politician swearing an oath with no questions asked. "You aren't even going to negotiate?"

"What is there to negotiate?" she laughs, and looks at me with full faith. "From what I've heard you are the best tactition alive, I'd die before letting Renly or Stannis lead my men to slaughter. You are the only one I trust to lead them into battle."

I'm confused. "Your men, not Renly's?"

She seems amused. "It seems Renly in naming himself king has relinquished his claim to Storms End, and as his heir it falls to me. The Stormlands and it's men are mine to command, ours to command."

From the way she looks at me I know she knows. "You know my demands?"

She nods. "I was told after Tyrion had me freed from the Black Cells, I can't deny I was, and still am, in disbelief at how you could ever want me for a wife after all I have done." She looks up at me with guilt, confusion, but her stance is absolute. "However, I have no plans to deny any of your demands."

And just like that, she accepts.

"I expected to be negotiating with Renly for men and a wife, I didn't expect both to be waiting for me," I admit, at an absolute loss for how these negotiations have gone, then realise the true reason she may be agreeing. "If it's guilt making you agree you don't have to-"

"Guilt is all I've known since Winterfell, and rightfully so," she confesses. "But I am not accepting out of guilt, I am accepting because you are the one man I have faith in. The only man I trust to win this war. The only man I admire."

While her pride may be gone, the storm inside her is still raging, I can see it in her eyes. She is broken down but not yet defeated. 

And perhaps that makes her more dangerous than ever.

Dangerous, and mine.