Author´s note: This is my first GoT fanfic. FYI in this fic Joffrey doesn´t exist.

Beauty and the Beast

Chapter 1

A princess follows her duties.

A princess never shows weakness.

A princess only makes decisions that please her folks.

A princess never lets harm come to her followers.

A princess does not dishonor her house.

All the lessons from Septa Elisa swirled through my mind, like the snow outside of this carriage swirls in the bitter cold air of the north. The white sheen covered the landscape entirely; the world seemed to turn into black and white, no other color peeking out. Outside I could hear hooves of at least ten horses – maybe fifteen - all muffled by the cold fluff beneath them.

I recognized my father´s fleeting form at the helm of the party. The black horse seemed to suffer under his noticeable weight, but his statue was manly, his head held high, his view strictly on the road they had been following for weeks now. From day to day I have watched summer turn into winter in less than a month, the hot long days turning into short cold ones, the overwhelming nature losing all it´s colors, the singing birds being replaced by croaking ravens. It was surely the most depressing thing I have ever seen and lived through in my whole life. But the most depressing is yet to come, my Father King Robert of the House Baratheon, first of his name, has decided that it was time for me to wed no other than Lord Eddard Stark´s son, the future Lord of Winterfell, Robb Stark. He and Lord Stark have been friends for a life time and he always wanted them to join houses.

My mother was in rage when she found out about his plans. Cersei as a real Lioness had shown my father her teeth, trying to protect her cub. I can still hear her shouts that echoed in the hallways of the Castle. Vases splattered and fell into thousand pieces after they hit the wall. But in the eyes of my father her outburst was exaggerated. The conversation ended with "I am the King, you can not forbid me anything." Then he turned his heels and slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind him. Uncle Jamie gave me and his twin sister a worried look, but sprints in the direction the King left, following his duty right after I kneeled down beside my crying mother. My thin arms snaked around her shaking form, whispering smoothing words into her ear to ease her pain as I swallowed the curses that were meant for my father. I didn´t cry, because I knew this day would come. I knew I had to do, what every other highborn women does when she reaches the right age. What my mother did, my Grandmother and all the others before her. They had to wed and give birth to future Lords and Ladies. This was usual at my age, others marry earlier, even before they have bled. I had luck that I got to spent so many years at home. But still I left Kings Landing with a heart heavier than the walls that compassed the castle I grew up in. There was no turning back in this case; I had to play the role of Lady Tania Stark of Winterfell.

A silent knock on the Window next to me brought me back to the present. Under a helmet I could recognize the emerald green eyes of my Uncle, Jamie Lannister, better known as the Kingslayer. His gloved finger pointed up a hill. A gasp escaped my mouth as I saw the oldest castle in all the seven kingdoms my father ruled over. My Septa told me that it was built eight thousand years ago by Brandon the Builder, with the help of giants. The part with the giants sounded rather queer to me, mostly because why would a 12 feet high being take orders from Men, they could squash with their hand. The northerners call them their bane and their brothers. Thanks to the seven they are almost gone, I don´t think that I could spend the rest of my life among hairy creatures with squashed-in faces and square teeth.

The rest of my life, my own voice echoed in my head. I have tried to avoid this topic. But here we are now, in front of the gates of Winterfell. And each thought I pushed away came crushing down on me.

I didn´t realize how hysterical I got until a hand squeezed mine, to calm me down. My eyes wandered over the hand to meet the eyes of it´s owner. The typical Lannister emerald green eyes of my mother were filled with worry and sadness. A small wrinkle appeared on the forehead of her perfect face and my firm fingers reached out to smooth it. "Oh my baby" she whimpered, these were the first words I heard in hours, despite the ones in my head.

I gazed down at my clenched hands placed on my lap. I didn´t dare to look up, afraid of what I will find. But the same hand from before, now lifted my chin, forcing me to do exactly what I feared. "Sweetling" my mother began softly "I know it´s hard. You can´t even imagine how I feel about losing you. I´m your mother, i´ve been with you all your life. Know that this isn´t the life I wanted for you."

I didn´t answer, instead I exhaled sharply through my teeth. Seeming to realize that I won´t speak, my mother went on: "I wish – I wish I could do anything about it. But we women never got to choose. The men always made the choices for us and we obeyed. We can only make it easier for us, when we wear a smile. So would you please do me a favor and give me a bright smile?"

I put on a price-worthy fake smile, that I have to use more often now than usual. Mother always said it´s one of the women´s most powerful weapon, that, her tears and not to forget the one between her legs. As a maiden my cheeks always flush bright pink at the thought of that. One of the annoying habits I had was definitely blushing; I did it all the time; when I get compliments and when someone talks about unladylike topics, which happens more often than I wished.

A ghost of a smile appeared on my mother´s face, she nodded approvingly at my smile and turned to wake sleeping Myrcella up. Tommen beside me had talked to Mary, my handmaiden, about the visit ahead of us, not hiding his excitement. He has been talking for a while now, funny how I managed to blend his squeaky voice out. A minute ago there were only me and my mother, no one else.

Then the carriage stopped moving.

"Perhaps it´s not going to be that bad." I tried to sweeten the blow.

Good? Bad? Shall I continue or let it be? Review please J