Chapter Text
Ned
“Thank you, Maester,” I said, taking the mug of requested medication from him.
Maester Luwin glanced behind me. I knew he had spotted Cassandra when a deep frown took over his features.
“Your Grace-“
“That will be all, Maester,” I cut him off sternly. “I trust I do not need to say that you should forget me ever asking for this.”
I felt guilty; the man had always been good and kind to me. However, I would not take any chances regarding Cass and I. Not even with Winterfell’s Maester, a man I trusted more than most.
Maester Luwin sighed, but nodded. “The whole thing must be taken.”
“Thank you, Maester,” I repeated, putting an end to our conversation.
I shut the door, not waiting for anything else. As I walked out from behind the chair where Cass sat, I placed a gentle kiss to her cheek. I set the cup down in front of her before lowering myself back into my seat.
Andra appeared to be practically glowing this morning. I was so desperate when I begged to hold her in my arms all night. She proved that she remained the sensible one between us. She came back to the castle and left me to my own devices. Now that she had found me again, all I wanted was to wrap myself around her and suffocate her with my kiss.
Andra glanced at the door as she picked up the tea.
“He does not like me,” she accused.
“Don’t be silly, Luwin has always loved you. He used to go on and on about how perfect of a match we are.”
“Were,” she corrected, “I doubt he has said such a thing since the end of our betrothal.”
I let out an amused breath. Of course he had not, but that did not negate the fact that he had always liked her. Although, as I thought about his behavior since she arrived, I could see where Andra’s concern was validated. Though, I did not believe that Luwin would purposely ostracize her.
“Drink,” I instructed.
A small smile graced her lips.
“Yes, King Stark.”
I reached out to lightly pinch her thigh, exactly where I knew the sigil to be. Her smile widened before she brought the cup to her lips.
As I witnessed Andra chug the tea much like she could ale, I felt the smallest twinge of disappointment. I was more than willing to have my pack grow by one, even if it was a bastard. I knew that it could never be, as much as the image of this woman with a swollen belly made my breath hitch.
“Don’t do that, Ned,” she chastised, seemingly able to read my thoughts. “There’s no point in being sad about this.”
“I know,” I admitted. “Just indulge me this one moment to regret that I’ll never see a child born from us.”
Andra gave me a wink.
“We have Jon.”
A chuckle came from me just as a knock graced the door. I looked to make sure there was nothing that could be perceived as untoward before shouting an admittance for entry. Howland slipped in.
“Ah, there you two are! I was hoping to see you off, Andra.”
“Thank you, Howland,” she said squeezing his hand for just a moment.
Howland looked down at her. Then at me. Then at her again. His brows raised and he gestured between the two of us. A large smile took over his face.
“Finally, eh?”
Fucking Magic Swamp Man.
“Shut up and take a seat or get out,” I threatened.
Howland shrugged and plopped himself into the empty chair. He stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles on top of my desk. Andra let out an amused giggle as I glared at him.
“It’s not my fault that the gods are cloaking you both in their blessings.”
I furrowed my brow. I had always thought myself to be a religious man, but Howland Reed often made me question the strength of my faith. What did his words even mean?
“I noticed a lack in husband,” he continued, eyeing Andra. “Any idea where Oberyn Martell is?”
Fire quickly lit inside of me, something I had never felt before. My rage was ice, cold and deadly. Andra’s was the one of flame, scorching and destructive. This was her anger that I felt now.
Is this as she always felt when she was mad? By the gods, it makes me feel as though I could accomplish anything.
“My dear husband decided to go to King’s Landing,” she spat out, “like a true fucking imbecile.”
When she admitted to me that the marriage was unconsummated, I had not expected this to be the reason why. I truly believed that she had not been able to go through with it. However, when she mentioned that he never returned to her chambers, I thought he had been with his paramour. For her sake, I tried to mask my shock, even though I knew she would sense it. Oberyn appeared to be a man of reason; I would never anticipate him making a move like this.
“What would possess him to do such a foolish thing?”
“Vengeance,” she stated disinterestedly. “I waited for hours last night in my chambers. Hours of sitting in pure terror and dread. I thought he was with Ellaria, however as the third hour neared a close, I was livid. I went to Luwin’s chambers and shook him awake-“
Well, the man definitely did not like her now.
“I demanded that he tell me what the raven he gave to Oberyn said. Apparently Joffrey- the little shit- is getting married and Doran wants Oberyn to attend in his stead. Ryn likely didn’t mention this to me because he knew I would have never allowed it to happen. I know him; he thinks he will have a chance to kill Tywin Lannister. Oberyn may be a skilled fighter, but unlike you, Ned, he lets his revenge fuel him. It will be his downfall. I had just hoped he would consult me before doing something like this.”
I sighed and ran a hand over my face.
“I am sorry, Andra,” Howland said remorsefully.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Married to my little brother until our other brother killed him. Married to my new husband for all of four maybe five hours before he left me for certain death. I’m beginning to think marriage is not for me.”
Howland scoffed.
“Stop wedding under the Faith of the Seven. You pray to the old gods, Andra! Why do you think yours and Ned’s bond is so deep? Your union was blessed by the gods you both follow.”
We both turned to look incredulously at our friend. He spoke as though he knew exactly what Andra and I experienced in regard to one another.
“What? You think love is enough to build what you two share? You are bound by the old gods, my friends.”
Andra looked skeptical. She followed the old gods, but she had never truly committed herself to religious practices and beliefs. She was too much a woman of logic to put that much faith in religion.
Personally, I did not know what to think. I always believed Andra had been sent to me by the gods; she was so perfectly mine. That did not mean I had any inkling of what Howland spoke of. I had never heard of the gods bestowing a connection such as the likes of ours.
“I am not sure the old gods would bless an affair,” Andra muttered.
I flinched at the use of the word. It was the correct term to describe our relationship, but that did not mean I liked the sound of it. She deserved much more than the title of mistress.
“Enough of this,” I commanded, unhappy with this change in conversation.
“Aye, it is enough,” Andra agreed, glancing towards the door. “I must get going. Lord Bolton should be ready to ride any minute now.”
She stood and made for the exit. She paused momentarily, looking back at me. We had made the decision that I would not go to the courtyard to see her off. We would not add any fire following our dance last night. Most of the North thought Jon was ours; I did not want whispers of another night shared.
Although, this time the rumors would be true. This time, the night had been shared.
And I’m counting down the days until it happens again.
I stood and moved over to Andra. We both glanced over at Howland who seemed completely oblivious to our desire for a private farewell. Andra coughed into her fist.
“Never mind me,” Howland said, leaning forward to write something on a piece of parchment.
I wanted to punch the man, but when I looked down at Andra, she had an amused smile on her face. I could feel the way she longed for more moments like this; moments of before everything went to shit. If this is what gave her peace, then I would not chastise our friend. I slid my hand to hold the side of her throat, my thumb resting against her jaw. I could feel her pulse quicken under my touch and the sensation went straight to my groin.
“Be safe,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss her soft lips.
Gods, she tastes like the sweetest icing.
“When do you anticipate joining us?”
“Eventually. I need to wait on word about Balon. It has been too long for him to remain this quiet. He’s planning something.”
"We have the Lannister vault now. I spoke to Syrio again regarding ships from the Sealord of Braavos. When I’ve paid for the fleet, I’ll send them to Blazewater Bay. It will take some time, especially in the Winter winds.”
This woman amazed me with every word she spoke. Robert gave her credit for her strength, but not nearly enough for her mind. As I tried to memorize every feature of her face, my heart dropped. This would likely be the last time I see her for many months. I had a sudden need to keep her close.
“I don’t like how much time we’ve spent apart,” I found myself saying. “Stay here with me.”
She smiled.
“We won’t be together, but we’ll still be okay, Ned. I need to go fight for my people; you need to fight for yours. Besides, Jory will have my head if I don’t return to him soon. His last scroll came with the threat to chain us together for all of eternity.”
Andra was absolutely right, but I was not ready to give up my fight. She belonged with me where I could be her shield. Jory was a good man, a loyal man, and I knew he would keep her safe. However, Cassandra belonged where I could protect her.
“I don’t want you to go,” I tried again. “It’s going to hurt much more this time; I can already tell.”
“Oh, definitely. Now that you’ve coupled it is going to feel like you’re ripping your own heart out and stabbing it multiple times.”
I glared at Howland whose back was still turned from us. Andra started laughing but set her hand on my wrist.
“Do you want the scroll before I leave,” she asked. “I can retrieve it.”
It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about. At the Tower of Joy, one of us took the babe and the other took the letter his sire had written for him. Additionally, Howland took the knowledge of the truth in the case that anything happened to Andra and I. Someone could still tell Jon his truth.
“No; the plan has always been for us to tell him together. I will not change that now. Keep it safe for a while yet.”
There was a brief pause as we stared at one another. Without the white of her dress against her, the purple in her eyes had disappeared. I could lose myself in her eyes, regardless. I never felt loved as I did when her alluring gaze watched me, inviting me to know every piece of her.
“I love you more than anything, Ned,” she softly cooed. “We’ll find our way back to each other soon.”
I prayed she was right. As she walked out of the door and away from me, I could feel a piece of myself going with her. The emptiness I always felt when apart began to settle in.
Howland came up to my side.
“The next time you see her, she will have found her wings,” he told me before walking after Cassandra.
I loved the man, but I could never begin to understand him.
I leaned in the doorway of my private solar and listened to the sounds of Winterfell. Direwolves were howling in distress, shouts of ‘Queen Cassandra’s leaving’ echoed throughout, hurried footsteps to see her off, and a fierce storm pounded against the roof.
Andra was leaving, and the North would feel her absence.
I smiled sadly as I returned to my desk. The parchment Howland’s writing was scrawled on caught my attention. My brow furrowed as I read the words.
Even a bastard carries the blood of their father.
Weeks later, I sat in the open area of my solar when Maester Luwin found me. He held out a scroll with a smile on his face. We had not spoken of the tea, nor had we spoken of Andra. It was in the past and Luwin appeared not to dwell on the matter.
I opened it and ciphered the code we had begun using throughout our communications.
We have the numbers to march on Harrenhal. We will begin to ride from Riverrun in two days time, once the men have had a chance to rest.
There, at the very bottom of the scroll in the smallest writing I have ever seen, more code.
Winter is coming, but ours is the fury.
I smiled at the report. At least I had the reassurance that she made it to Riverrun. Though, I felt only slightly settled by the information. Ever since Andra had left Winterfell, I was plagued by her absence. I could not ward off the loneliness that seeped in nor the possessive thoughts demanding that I find her and bring her back to where she belonged- by my side.
I sighed, needing a distraction. I hated being cooped up in this castle. I felt useless just waiting to see where I would need to defend. Most of our men were in the Riverlands with Lord Bolton and Robb. I did not have the numbers for the offensive. The Ryswell’s, Manderly’s, and Woolfields all promised more troops during the wedding; they had yet to arrive.
I found myself walking to the training yard. Syrio and Arya were there, sparring with one another. I raised an eyebrow when I saw my eldest daughter holding a wooden training sword as well as Rickon. Catelyn stood with her arms clutched in front of her, a disapproving frown on her lips. Ser Rickard Karstark stood at her side, a proud smile on his face. They were perfect examples of opposites.
I came to stand beside them.
“You look happy today, Cat.”
She shot me a glare.
“Both of my daughters want to wield swords. Can you believe that?”
“Aye. They are Starks, Cat. Northern ladies. We met Howland Reed because Lyanna save him from three attackers with a tourney sword. It’s in their blood.”
She pursed her lips.
“You should give sparring a go,” I suggested, “you might find yourself enjoying it.”
“I am a highborn lady.”
“You are Queen in the North,” I reminded her. “Northwomen fight.”
“If you wanted a wife that fought, you should never have gone to Riverrun to fulfill Brandon’s promise.”
I let out a low chuckle. This woman has changed much over the years, trying her best to adapt to life in the North. However, she would always be a Tully at her core.
“It would do some good for Sansa to learn how to defend herself.”
“She said The Hound began teaching her on the road when a man took her from their camp during the night. She’s struggling to adapt to Syrio’s teachings,” Ser Rickard mused.
“So then teach her how you fight,” I instructed. He shook his head.
“My apologies, Your Grace, but she refused to learn from me. She said she wanted to fight differently than her brothers. She wanted to fight like a lady.”
“Like Cass,” Cat said. “She specifically said she wanted to fight like Cassandra.”
“No one fights like Cass. Syrio may have taught her to hold a sword, but she learned to fight from every kingdom the realm, in addition to the Braavosi. Robert taught her how to be fierce like a Stormlander, Oberyn taught her how to be as sly and quick as a Dornishman, I taught her how to endure as a Northmen, both her brother and I showed her how to be reliable in a fight like the Valemen, she took lessons from the Knight of Flowers when he squired for Renly, she even paid Jaime a few dragons for a lesson from him once or twice when she lived in the capital. I remember watching The Blackfish of the Riverlands give her instuctions during the rebellion when she was fascinated by the way he cut a man down in one swing. During the tourney at Harrenhal, she mimicked the movements Rhaegar Targaryen used to best Brandon, Ser Arthur Dayne, and even Ser Barristan Selmy. She practiced again and again until she was able to disarm Howland, Robert, and I using the same tactics.
“Cassandra did not become a fierce warrior in a day. She built her skill up for years; she even does so now. I did not name her for the throne because we are friends. I named her because she is the realm. If Sansa truly wants to learn how to fight like Queen Cassandra, the girl will need to squire for her for at least half a decade.”
Catelyn and Ser Rickard fell quiet. I glanced at Sansa who had a determined look in her eyes. This was one of the first times the girl ever resembled a Stark. She was practically Catelyn reincarnated, but now I could see the traces of ‘wolf’s blood’ as my father always called it.
“Would you allow her to?” I asked Cat. “Cassandra would readily agree once this war is over.”
Cat sighed as she watched our daughter.
“I don’t think I’ll have a choice. I don’t know what our daughter truly experienced in the capital, but Sansa is not the same as she left. She has not one picked up a sewing needle since returning to us, there’s no talk of knights and princes, she has not even sung any songs. Try to guess her response when I asked about these changes?”
I shrugged, not having a clue. Catelyn crossed her arms and finally met my eyes.
“‘The world is full of killers, Mother. I’d rather join them than be scared of one ever again.’”