[Chapter Size: 3400 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Winterfell, 298 AC.
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Now that the two were there, alone, both seemed to hesitate for a moment. Lord Stark then sighed and turned his gaze to her with a tone that seemed a bit lost about where to begin.
"I'm sorry for... for Catelyn." Lord Stark murmured.
She looked at him and nodded. "Don't be, Lord Stark. It's not like it would change anything." Cassandra said.
"No. I won't let her deprive Rickon. Mother or not, I don't want the boy to be limited from seeing you. He has a strong bond with you, so it's not healthy to simply ignore that. I know my son is suffering to the point of putting himself in danger alone." Lord Stark said in a more serious tone while Cassandra shivered, clearly concerned about the boy's safety.
"You know this will cause me a lot more trouble, right? You know I'm not in a very good position. To begin with, the queen..." Cassandra murmured, still remembering the mocking looks the queen gave her every time since she had spoken to the king to stop harassing that girl at the banquet.
"The queen won't lay a finger on you here in Winterfell. I guarantee that, Cassandra. Neither she nor Catelyn. I don't want you to feel afraid of them." He spoke with a serious tone, while Cassandra only nodded with some caution.
A silence fell over the two at that moment as they looked at each other. Lord Stark took the initiative to get closer, and although Cassandra looked surprised by this, she didn't back away either.
"Look, I know things haven't been easy between us since... well, you know..." She heard him say this with a bit of embarrassment, remembering there were some stories that he used to be the Silent Wolf, a shy young man. She didn't really believe those stories, but seeing him like this, when addressing delicate matters, he really did seem like a shy teenager.
She couldn't say much either, since she didn't even know how to react. "I know very well what happened, Lord Stark. You don't need to finish." She huffed, sparing him from continuing.
"I know I dishonored you." Lord Stark said with some regret.
"It's not like I was a virgin maiden, Lord Stark." Cassandra huffed.
"I know. But you felt hurt." He noticed, standing just a few centimeters from her, as she looked at him quickly.
"I did, I admit it. And I was a fool. I shouldn't have put my feelings above my duty. But that's in the past, can we not talk about it anymore." She said, but without looking at him.
"I wish you were more honest with me." Lord Stark touched her shoulder, and although she seemed almost ready to pull away from him, she remained there as their eyes met once again.
"My feelings aren't that important, Lord Stark." Cassandra murmured, realizing how close she was to her lord and decided to end it before she made another mistake. "Anyway, I think we've talked enough. It's better if I go and we leave the past behind." She said, even if the conversation had lasted only two minutes, it was enough and she wanted to leave, beginning to move away as she turned around.
But before she could complete the turn, her body was pulled back. She barely had time to react as she moved toward Lord Stark until she felt his lips pressing against hers, holding her firmly there.
For a moment, she didn't know what to do, but by instinct, she simply closed her eyes, letting the small kiss linger there for a few seconds.
She couldn't deny that it was good.
Lord Stark pulled away slightly, staring at her. He was never good with words, always shy when it came to winning someone over. Catelyn had been an obligation—he didn't have to win her over, only act out of duty from the start—and he eventually got along with her, despite her flaws.
He didn't know how to deal with women, and he knew it. Memories of a young woman with violet eyes passed through his mind. Ashara... The woman he had loved but had been too shy to talk to.
'...In the end, she slept with my own brother... Even Catelyn, she loved Brandon, not me... I never won a woman's love from the beginning to stay with me...' A bitter taste seemed to rise in Lord Stark's mouth with that thought.
He had felt betrayed at the time, and his last words to Brandon had been full of fury and disgust, while at the same time he was saddened that the last time he saw his older brother had been like that—just a memory with the taste of betrayal.
A gleam of sadness had appeared in his gaze with those thoughts. And he wanted to forget all of it by looking at the woman in front of him, hoping to see if she would be furious. As she pulled away with mixed emotions in her eyes, she noticed the sadness in his gaze, though she didn't know why. But she saw the gleam disappear the next moment.
Cassandra immediately huffed upon seeing that hesitant expression on his face—his concern about how she would react.
She tried hard not to smile. 'The Lord of Winterfell is so gallant, a quality I didn't know... but his age doesn't stop him.' She couldn't help but laugh at that little thought while staring at him.
Back to reality, that had been a kiss... but what did it mean? Why had he pulled her like that to kiss her when she was about to leave?
"I hope I haven't offended you, Lady Cassandra." Lord Stark murmured, still searching for any sign of disapproval on her face.
"I've already told you about calling me 'Lady,' Lord Stark." Cassandra spoke seriously again. "Anyway, you didn't offend me, but... I'm surprised. So I ask: why are you doing this?" she said, wanting to understand what that was supposed to mean.
"It's my responsibility." He said, and Cassandra immediately rolled her eyes.
'That fool is thinking about honor. My honor?' She couldn't help but be stunned.
"Lord Stark," she began, speaking loudly, "I already said... what happened that night was a mistake by both of us. I'm not a virgin maiden, I'm the mother of two children as old as your heir. You don't need to honor me for sleeping with a servant. Besides, if you're looking for someone to have as yours, I believe there are many lords offering their daughters and a few noble widows to be the Lady of Winterfell. I've seen some of the letters on your solar's table—you seem to be very sought after." She said, wanting to get away from him.
But Stark still had his hands on her shoulders, not letting her go.
It was true—many lords were sending marriage proposals, especially in the North, where they didn't care about the Faith of the Seven, which said he was still married to Catelyn. But even houses from the South were making proposals to place a new Lady of Winterfell in House Stark.
Lord Stark had quite a headache from the number of letters coming to him over the past year, where he had to refuse all kinds of proposals—noble widows, noblewomen who hadn't found a partner in their youth, assuring him they were still virgins, even their young daughters were being used as offers. Young girls! They were the same age as his daughter—how could he accept such a thing!? Even some farmers and men of the North, of common birth, were coming to Winterfell for audiences and brought their daughters in their best dresses to try and charm him, all young girls.
It was a horrible situation for him. He didn't want any of it. He was tired of arranged marriages. First of all, he would never take a young woman, finding it wrong when his daughters were that age... If he had to choose... he wanted someone he could win over by himself...
"I want to repeat that night." Though he seemed quite shy, Stark soon spoke with a deep and firm tone, making Cassandra stare at him, stunned.
"What?" She made a face.
"I'm saying... I want to repeat what we did that night. But now, without the excuse of being drunk. I want to do it consciously. And I'd like you to feel the same. I want you..." he said, while she didn't know what to say for a moment.
She felt a bit pressured by it, knowing that it would change everything—all the interactions they would have from that moment on... Any answer she gave would be a problem, not to mention the pressure she had to keep her job.
'Was it wrong? Could he think that if I said yes, he might believe I was only doing it to keep my job?' Her eyes reflected that thought as she stared at him.
And Lord Stark saw her doubts and wore a discouraged expression, beginning to move away from her. But this time, it was her arms that grabbed his shoulders.
"Don't walk away from me after saying such things, Lord Stark!" she said louder and quicker than she intended, and simply stared at him. "I accept."
"What?" He was the one surprised this time.
"I want to have more nights like that." She said, pressing her lips together, looking almost like a shy maiden.
Obviously, Cassandra had always had a long-standing crush on Stark. She had always heard about him, and her admiration grew after she settled in Winterfell. She had worked with him for so long that she couldn't deny those feelings. But she had never really shown it—for obvious reasons—and had chosen to keep it to herself—until the night they drank and slept together.
She couldn't deny that she desired him. And if this was real... then fine. She could be his lover.
Lord Stark said nothing and simply pressed his lips against hers once again, as their mouths became entangled in something more than a simple kiss, becoming more passionate as their tongues entwined there, in the middle of the godswood, where no one could stop them from having that moment.
In the end, the problems with the queen, with Catelyn, with the Stark family and the Seven Kingdoms—all disappeared, as they continued kissing, as if nothing else mattered.
It didn't take long for the kisses to leave their mouths and reach their necks, while Lord Stark seemed to lose control, nuzzling against her dress as she moaned.
"You smell wonderful," Lord Stark commented.
"So do you, my lord." She smiled shyly as she continued to feel his touch.
They continued kissing for a while, and soon Cassandra felt her dress slipping off her shoulder while Lord Stark seemed like an even fiercer wolf.
"We should finish this in the bedroom," he said suddenly, pausing as she lifted her face to his, though she didn't seem to be fixing her clothing—with one of her breasts already exposed to Lord Stark.
"I think so... but we'll never have time for that now... can we go on... even here? I want to." She spoke with a tone of desire, and Ned stared at her for a few seconds before kissing her again.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her to a corner of the wall where no one entering the place could see them, and there, they began to make love right then and there.
In the end, Lord Stark and Cassandra left the godswood with their clothes a bit out of place, but nothing noticeable to others, walking back toward the castle at a very respectful distance from one another, as if nothing had happened, despite the intimate—and even shy—atmosphere between them.
If Jory and his companion had any thoughts about what had happened, they didn't show it, watching with indifference as the two went their separate ways.
Lord Stark returned to his room, but he couldn't stop thinking about more than just Cassandra... about tonight's dinner with his family, the royal family, and the visiting nobles... While everyone ate, the queen's looks were anything but discreet. Lord Stark was irritated by it—he could no longer remain calm around that woman. His youngest daughter seemed willing to treat her the same way.
The two looked like they could kill each other with their eyes, and certainly, it wasn't only him who noticed it. Only Robert seemed oblivious—if he wasn't spinning too. The other nobles didn't seem to be taking it well... as glances and whispers continued across the hall.
He silently wished Arya would try to keep things under control. Things were not getting easy in Winterfell.
The dinner passed without major incidents, aside from the notably tense atmosphere.
While thinking about it, Lord Stark returned to his room, took a bath, and put on some clothes. He didn't forget to pick up some colognes and even fragrances Arya had given him—something made in Arctic and sold by Jon.
The scent was nice, and he'd be opening it for the first time. After all, he was never a particularly vain man who walked around smelling fancy, but tonight, he wanted to be pleasant and fragrant. So he used them.
He stood there, looking rather nervous as he waited through the next few hours, unable to sleep.
In the early hours, Jory knocked on the door, stating that Lady Cassandra was there. He felt a bit sorry for Jory... He had worked all day and volunteered to stay the night this time because Lord Stark had asked Cassandra to come to his room—and Jory, along with the other guard, were trustworthy enough to keep that secret. He'd have to reward them when he had the chance.
He asked for her to come in, while the guard gave him a small smile this time. Lord Stark felt slightly embarrassed by that. At least he could count on the silence of those two men—whom he trusted enough not to spread word of his secret meetings with Cassandra.
After all, it wouldn't be good for this to become public—while at the same time, he deeply desired to have that woman there.
She then stepped inside, looking quite shy as she wore a very beautiful dress.
"You look dazzling..." Lord Stark couldn't deny it, his eyes shining as he looked at the woman. She might not have been as beautiful as Catelyn or Ashara, but he couldn't deny she was lovely too. She had a slender, slightly tall figure, dark hair and light blue eyes. In that dress, her curves left Lord Stark visibly flustered by the thirty-nameday-old woman standing before him, still very beautiful despite her age.
So he couldn't help but smile. Lord Stark approached her and began to repeat what they had shared in that corner of the godswood. Though now they had a bed—he had taken her against a wall last time, holding her in his arms while her dress had gotten in the way a bit, though nothing had stopped them in the end.
Now, they could repeat it more comfortably. With a bed. And without clothes.
She quickly returned his kiss as they began undressing, and Lord Stark laid her on the bed while they finished removing their garments, feeling each other's warmth.
For Lord Stark, a spark of happiness lit up in that moment. He didn't need to care about anything else while surrendering to the warmth of a woman he believed he had won by his own merit—not through some arranged marriage contract.
It was liberating for the Lord of Winterfell.
The next morning, it was Ned's eyes that opened as he looked for her, only to find the bed empty. But he saw Cassandra still in the room, near the window, as the sun had yet to rise, only a faint light hinting that the night was ending.
She was adjusting her dress, putting it on, while Lord Stark looked at her—and she turned to him before smiling.
"Good morning, Lord Stark," she said.
She seemed happy—Ned noticed—and that warmed his heart.
"Good morning, Lady Cassandra." He still insisted on calling her that, though she just shook her head.
"Just don't call me that. I don't want rumors about 'Lord Stark's mistress' trying to steal Lady Catelyn's place to start spreading." She murmured.
"Mistress?" Ned frowned.
"Well, that's what I am, right? It's fine. I can be content with that." She said, raising an eyebrow, while he shook his head.
"No. That's not what I imagine for us. I want us to take this seriously." He said. Ned would not have a mistress. He was too honorable for that.
Cassandra choked. "What do you mean..."
"I want you as mine, Lady Cassandra... mine." He said.
"Are you talking about... marriage?" she murmured, stunned.
"Obviously. I'm thinking about it. What else could I be thinking, after what we shared last night?" Lord Stark said, his tone firm and serious.
"I'm just a servant, Lord Stark. You can't just decide something like that. Your family won't accept it."
"They will accept it," he said, as if there was no other option, while she didn't seem to agree.
"Sansa hates me. She'll want to kill me. To be your wife—or rather, wife by the Seven Gods... didn't she already want to kill me before?" she said indignantly.
For Cassandra, just being his lover would have been enough to have Lord Stark. She didn't care about having another man after her late husband, not after so many years. But she recognized her place. She was of low birth—how could she believe this could ever happen, especially with so much tension in Winterfell?
"We'll find a way. But I don't intend to lower you to the point of being just my mistress." He said, getting out of bed and approaching her, touching her hands, while she looked a bit dazed before giving him a smile.
"Look at you... you're the romantic type, aren't you?" she said, kissing him, genuinely surprised by Lord Stark's attitude as she touched his bare chest.
"You could say that." He replied, both of them laughing at it.
"But you know this isn't that simple." She said at last after the laughter faded.
"We can do it once everyone leaves—no king, no queen, no Catelyn. We'll do it when Winterfell is at peace. You know the whole North will accept it. We'll marry under the old gods." Ned said with eloquence.
"But your marriage...?" she couldn't help but ask. She wasn't of the southern faith, but she knew its importance.
"To hell with the Seven, Cassandra. We'll marry under the old gods." He said, surprising her, and she couldn't even argue anymore, only stared at him, shocked.
"Let's not decide anything now. We'll talk about it, and I want your daughter's opinion—you know which daughter I mean." Cassandra said at last while returning to finish dressing.
Lord Stark nodded, and he couldn't deny that he liked the woman standing before him. She was serious, which reminded him a bit of Catelyn—and that brought a sad thought as he remembered his wife. Despite all her mistakes, a feeling of love still lived inside him.
But he had to let go. He needed to move forward. Because, whether he wanted to or not, Catelyn was no longer the person he would share his life with.
And Cassandra had something Catelyn didn't—she was a northerner and acted like one. She was just enough to stand up even to a king if she saw something wrong. Lord Stark admired her for that.
In the end, Cassandra left the room with a watchful, hurried gaze, moving through the corridor without being seen by anyone but the two guards, after they confirmed the coast was clear.
Or at least, so they thought. For a maid had seen her from a distance, hidden on the other side of the corridor, staring in shock as she saw Cassandra coming out of the Lord of Winterfell's chambers—before ducking out of sight.
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