MEMORIES OF YOU (Game of Thrones)

-25-

"Cassana, whatever we may have done, tell me it is for the best. Rutting hells, I would've preferred to death dive from the cliffs—"
Arthur Connington was fuming. No. He was not fuming. The blood had rushed to his face because he was about to shit himself. He did respect Cassana Baratheon and knew she would have done anything to save her people. But whatever they had awoken on that cave made his insides turn.

"Oh, shove it, you bore. When it comes and save your arse, you'll be grateful for me. Come on, where is your sense of adventure?"
Cassana pranced around, feeling almost giddy. She had heard about the myth that lived inside those caves, but never imagined it to be true.

"Come on, I don't want to tell Velaryon that I killed his wife. He'll have me crucified, that is only if I'm lucky—"

"Who say's its not going to be me? I'll leave you outside the rutting gates to prove my point. Your red hair will be the only thing you can see amidst the fog and mist"

"You are so crude, Cassana", Arthur chortled, not knowing if to find his friend amusing or frightening.

"Well, I live to torment you. Even when I am a ghost I'll come back and haunt you", she smirked and snorted, watching as the various men load the myriad of ships that had assembled.

"So, what is the plan again?", Arthur said , gripping the hilt of his ancestral sword.

"Well, Oberyn is on his way there. High Garden is sparing some men. The majority are heading to the Sept of Baelor, gods know why. Faith is a farce. My only religion is with a sword in hand and commanding my armies to glory. Besides, Rhogar has arrived and is splitting his armies. He sent a small detachment to Castle Black. Last I heard, my little brother is Lord Commander", Cassana smiled fondly.

She was proud of Aemon. Of Jon Snow. Proud that he had made peace with wildlings and the people of the North. If anyone who could do it, it was him. Rhogar had also said that they were a few days march from Riverrun, but they would first attack the Frey's and further push the Lannisters towards Riverrun. She was quite afraid, even the greatest warrior could fall from a swipe of a sword. She had seen Rhogar train. He was like the wind itself, twirling Blackfyre in his hands. It was as if he knew the precise attack of his enemy, as if his gracious attacks did not give him any trouble. Yet his massive strength never let him down, gods was he inmense in every way. She found himself missing him even more as time passed, their child being the reminder of his love.

Rhogar Velaryon would be her undoing. She loved Robb. He had been her first love, and quite frankly, if he were still alive, she would be with him. He was the love of her life that is gone. A ghost. And she could not love a ghost, or she'd would've lost her mind only thinking about those sky blue eyes she adored. But then Rhogar had come in and demolish all the walls she had built. He came to warm the hard frozen-like exterior that was her heart. He had been the one to save her from herself, and for that she loved him. It wasn't easy to love him after Robb, but she slowly accepted that Rhogar loved her and that however the fates might have played Robb and her, she also loved Rhogar too.

"My queen, if I may, I got word from Lord Eddard Stark. He says that he already in Harrenhal. He found the Stark Bannermen there, led by your master of whispers, Ser Damon Mormont. There is a small detachment of Lannister men garrisoned there too. They say they are under the command of Martyn Lannister. The little lad says he is loyal to you—"
Lord Cole started, his face twisted in surprise as he read the words in the parchment.

"Seven hells, a Lannister? We can't trust those cunts", Arthur bellowed, his face a dark semble of his already serious expression.

"He is no ordinary Lannister. He grew up a squire under Blackfish Tully and then I saved him from being butchered by Stark men. He was a squire for Rhin Royce and after... Damon Mormont took him in and sent him North. He owes his life to me. I don't want a complete bloodline to perish. He is good. Just like Tommen and Myrcella—"