Maybe one-shot, I'm not sure yet.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Lord Eddard Stark asked.

His son was standing beside him, he was smiling at Jolene. She couldn't smile, no matter how hard she tried. How could she when her heart was broken. She had just lost the man she had loved. The man she had hoped to spend rest of her life with. She had been nothing but a fool. Girls like her didn't get to choose their husbands. They weren't allowed to marry for love.

According to her mother, they weren't allowed to feel love at all. Jolene had felt love. It had been the most wonderful thing she had ever felt. The shy smiles, hidden gazes, her wildly beating heart, butterflies in her stomach… It had been beautiful. Innocent. Few stolen moments of happiness. Kisses and caresses. It hadn't been ugly or filthy like her father had said.

They had tried to be so careful, but somehow her father had found out. He hadn't said anything at first; he had simply informed Jolene that he wanted her to accompany him to the north. He had decided to visit an old friend of his. Jolene had wondered why he wanted to take her with him, but of course she had agreed. When they had arrived Winterfell, Lord Stark had arranged them a welcome feast.

There Jolene's father had stood up and informed that she would marry Robb Stark. Everything had already been arranged, everyone except her had known about the wedding. She had been too shocked to react until she had been alone with her father. She had told him that she wouldn't agree to the marriage.

He had informed her that he knew about her little romance. He had said that he wasn't going to let her bring him shame. She would do exactly as she was being told or he would take her beloved's head as well as his honor. A member of the Kingsguard who had dared to touch the King's daughter… He had committed treason and the King could punish his whole family for it. Jolene hadn't had a choice.

Her every step felt heavy as she walked towards her soon-to-be husband. Like a lamb to the slaughter. The night was chilly and she was cold. Not to mention the northern wedding ceremony was foreign to her. The whole thing was like a bad dream.

"Jolene of the House Baratheon comes here to be wed," her father announced. His arm was firmly around hers like he would suspect that she would try to run. "A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Lord Robb stepped forward.

"Robb of the House Stark. Who gives her?"

"Robert of the House Baratheon, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Lord Stark looked at Jolene. She struggled to keep her face free from emotion although tears were burning behind her eyes. This wasn't fair. For the first time in her life she had found a little happiness. Now she was being given to a man she had met yesterday.

"Jolene, do you take this man?"

No. No. No. She was shaking, probably because of the cold. She felt her father's eyes on her and knew the words she needed to say in order to save her beloved. Yet she felt that she was betraying him. Betraying their love.

"I take this man."

Her voice sounded foreign. Hollow. She barely noticed her father moving from her side and she startled as Lord Robb suddenly wrapped his cloak around her. Had she forgotten some part of the wedding ceremony?

"You seem to be cold," he said quietly before taking her hand.

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured.

He squeezed her hand gently. It was probably meant as a calming gesture. He thought that she was just a nervous bride. She wasn't. Right now she couldn't feel anything. She was completely numb.