You were the Princess of Casterly Rock, a Baratheon born to Robert and Lannister. Your hand had been promised to Robb Stark, heir of Winterfell, to make peace with the North.

You liked Robb. He had dark curly chocolate brown hair, dark eyes and a charming, mature personality. Robb was two years older than you, but had grown quite a strong affection for you.

You liked what Robb could give you - a future, an escape from your family, a place to live that wasn't King's Landing.

But you also liked Jon. Curly, raven haired Jon with piercing dark eyes whose pale face was always in a permanent scowl.

You liked how Jon made you feel - seen, cared for, safe. You liked how you made him feel - seen, cared for, accepted. You liked that he didn't care who you were. It was something that, while Robb, even with all his kindness - his constant affection, kisses on your hand, gifts, anything you wanted - was inferior to. Inferior to the boy you could never love.

You'd just been with Robb in the hall. The boy had his arm slung around you, and was saying things to make you laugh.

It was then when reality had finally settled in. You didn't love Robb. You loved the idea of him. And you didn't think you ever could love Robb even if you tried.

You couldn't properly focus on or appreciate every kiss, look, and touch from Robb. You couldn't even handle him looking at you without your insides crumbling.

Because in your mind all you saw was Jon Snow. Robb Stark's bastard brother. All you saw was Jon Snow every time Robb did so much as smile at you.

You needed to get out. Clear your mind. And so you went, to a place that brought you peace. The Godswood.

Before you knew it, tear after tear was spilling from your eyes, glistening on your skin, the droplets falling from your lashes.

Big arms wrapped themselves around you as you knelt in the snow with tears down your face and hair a mess. "I got you." Murmured Jon, his thick Northern accent like a soft lullaby to your ears. "I got you."