Sara's new room felt too luxurious to belong to her. Her old room at winterfell was large and decorated for that of a daughter of house stark, but these were far greater. The room seemed to be made from gold, every piece of furniture seemed carved from it. What shocked Sara the most was how casual Lady Hightower acted when revealing the room to her, if that was not something to be proud of she didn't know what was.

Standing in the middle of the room was presumably Sara's wedding gown. It was deep green, with fleck of gold traveling from the waist of the dress down to the bottom. The top seemed to be ivy wrapping and twisting around each other. It was beautiful, Sara had seen no gown like it before.

"Would you like us to help you put it on." One of the maids asked Sara.

"If it's not too much trouble." Sara replied, she desperately wanted to be well liked. She wasn't sure how how she'd manage will no friendly faces to see.

They assisted Sara into the gown carefully, either not wanting to hurt her or avoid ripping the dress. Sara wouldn't blame them if they chose to avoiding damaging the dress rather than bruise her skin.

Staring into the mirror Sara couldn't recognise herself. The gown fit her perfectly, the green stood out against her pale skin, which was something she'd hope change with her being in the south. Her auburn hair went well with the green, her curls cascading down her back.

"You look beautiful." Alora told her. "Like a proper Hightower bride."

Sara gave her a small smile in return. At least she could find friendship in her husband's mother, so far she had shown her nothing but kindness. Except every time she did a wave of sadness washed over her, each time reminded her of her own mother. It made Sara realise how much she longed for her own mother's comfort  .

"Leave us." Alora commanded to the room, at once the room was cleared out leaving Sara standing in her dress.

"When I married Leyton I was sent here just like you, without my mother." Alora informed Sara, sympathising with the young girl. "And all I wanted was someone to show me kindness."

"I know I'm not your mother, but know I will look after you" She reassured her future daughter by law. "No harm will come to you while you are here, I promise you."

"Thank you." Sara whispered, she appreciated her kindness and understanding. It made her feel that she was no longer alone in this foreign place.

"I raised my son to be a gentleman." Alora stated, trying her best to comfort Sara. She had no daughters of her own, and had always longed for a girl to raise as a miniature version of herself. "Know that he will never harm you"

The words calmed the girls nerves, it seemed like her soon to be husband was avoiding. Even if it was just not holding eye contact and avoiding her gaze. It seemed she wouldn't speak to him until after they were wed, perhaps this was the Hightower way. She knew the house was known to be strong believers of the faith of the seven, taking pride in their large sept, but not speaking before marriage seemed extreme.

*****

The days had passed quickly and Sara had found herself being laced into her wedding gown again except this time would be the last time. The nerves bubbled in her stomach, she wasn't ready, it had only been just a few days since she arrived and was already been married. The service would follow the tradition of the faith of the seven help in the sept, and preformed by the septon. Unlike how it would have been held in the north, in the godswood and under the Weirwood tree.

She felt swarmed, it seemed like every maid in old town was somehow fastening or adjusting her dress. The tightening of her corset had knocked the wind out of her lungs, unable to communicate just how uncomfortable she felt.

She looked in the mirror as the final touches of her wedding attire was carefully placed onto her, the veil they placed over her covering her face, the veil travelling down her back and far into the room , golden jewellery weighing her down, with the chunky necklace hanging low down onto her chest and the many bracelets and rings forcing her arms to hang down unable to move.

She could sense her father's presence, hearing his footsteps travelling back and forth outside the door, no doubt anxious to deliver his daughter to her nearly husband. Ned stark had never been comfortable in the south, he was a stark born and bread one who would use the north as his foxhole to hide from the rest of Westeros. It was him who wanted the ceremony to be over quickly, not wanting to linger where he felt he didn't belong. Yet every time he looked at her daughter he wanted to carry her back to her home, or what was her home. His first born daughter is leaving him forever. She would be alone here while the rest of the family would be safe in winterfell. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives, or so they said.

When the handmaids flocked out of his daughter's room he knew it was time. Entering the room carefully, gently pushing the door forward, the anticipation of seeing his daughter oh her wedding dress was great. And it was everything he dreamed of, Sara looked a vision, it was then when he realised just how much she looked like Catelyn, it was like a stab to the heart that his wife couldn't be here to see it. He made a mental note of every detail so he could describe it Catelyn, a small gesture for his wife's despair.

"Are you ready." he asked his daughter, in an almost whisper he wasn't to sure she heard.

"I guess I have to be, I'm all dressed up now." Sara responded a small smile building onto her face, attempting to joke with her father while moving closer to him.

"You look beautiful, Sansa will be jealous that you got a finer dress than her." he responded, an equally small smile on his face, trying to match his daughter's tone.

Sara responded by pressing a small kiss to her father's cheek, even through her veil, the small gesture was well received.

Ned intertwined his arms with his eldest daughter, guiding her through the castle to the same spot they arrived at, except this time they were headed to sept, rather than back home to winterfell.

Sara stared at her fathers face, memorising every wrinkle and, mark he had on his face, her biggest fear was being forgotten, but if you were to ask her now it would be forgetting her family. Forgetting the precise way Sansa would complain to their mother after something Arya had done, or the way bran would clumsily pick up a sword to match his older brothers skill, after all he wanted to be a knight, though if you would to ask her he's a much better climber than a knight.

Every time the carriage would bump up at an unexpected rock or at the uneven cobbled street, Sara's stomach churned, she wouldn't be surprised if she was sick. She couldn't help but wonder would they would call off the whole thing if she was sick in the sept, perhaps lyonel would be so disgusted he would call the whole thing off and she could return home with her father like nothing had happened, she could be held in her mothers arms again.

The carriage slowly came to a stop, the silence and tension were also coming to the end was when she realised this may be one of the last moments she would share with her father for a long time, wife's were hardly ever allowed to return to their family homes without a proper excuse and the company of their husbands who would be far to busy to travel.

Ned guided his daughter to the steps of the sept, preparing to walk her to her new husband. The sept held no doubt at least a hundred people, none of whom either of them knew, or remembered. Though he supposed it didn't matter, he would never see them again, his daughter on the other hand better start remembering names.

The doors opened slowly, as father and daughter were revealed to the crowd waiting for them, all of them waiting impatiently for the ceremony to start.

Sara took a deep breath, trying to shove her nerves away, this was it. There was no going back now.

                                         ****

The walk to the front seemed to take years, time had slowed and everything was replaced with a blurry haze. When they finally had arrived her father stepped away quickly taking his spot next to lyonel's family. She was left to climb the small set of stairs by herself, knees wobbling slightly. Or at least she thought it was only slightly, until lyonel outstretched his hand to assist her up the stairs and onto the alter to join him.

Here they were two young adults, both as nervous as each other stood face to face with a septon in between. Too nervous to look each other in the eye, to scared to other each other a kind smile. And so the ceremony began.

Her eyes were ringing too much for her to hear or process what the septon was groaning on about, she supposed she believed in the gods, she enjoyed her time at the godswood, though sometimes she went for the peace and quiet.

The septon tied a ribbon in a knot around the joined hands of the couple, symbolising  their union. And Sara's hearing finally cleared.

"Let it be known that Lyonel of house Hightower and Sara of house Stark are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The septon announces. "In the sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity.

He unties the ribbon, leaving their hands empty. All that was left was the promise of been joined for the rest of Sara and Lyonels life.

"Look upon each other and say the words." The septon commanded.

The young couple turned to look at each other, this was it after this they would officially be wed. There was no escaping it.

"Father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone and stranger." They spoke in unison.

"I am here and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days." Lyonel spoke softly.

While Sara at the same time spoke the same words. "I am his and he is mine. From this day until the end of my days."

"With this kiss I pledge my love" Lyonel announced to the room.

He placed a gentle kiss to Sara's lips, she had never been kissed before. It was soft, yet quick he didn't linger, there was no passion in it. Sara imagined her first kiss would be with someone she knew or at least knew.

                                           ****

She wasn't really sure how but at some point she ended up at her wedding feast sitting side by side with her new husband, with a plate of pigeon pie resting on a plate in front of her. The two sat alone in the silence on a high table for just them, higher than everyone else, she supposed it was their feast it would make sense for them to be the head.

She watched her father make idle chat with Lord Leyton her new father by law. It would always been weird to refer to him by the that she decided . Lord Leyton Hightower by no doubt was surely a kind man at heart, but his demeanour all serious and cold, she couldn't imagine him laughing that's for sure, maybe an odd smile to his wife and son. The lady Alora entirely different to her husband was full of life, centre of attention chatting and smiling at all who approached her, exchanging in gossip with what appeared to be her closest companions.

It made Sara feel lonely, if she was at winterfell or with her siblings anywhere she too would be laughing and joking. Except she sat rigid and uncomfortable in her sweet with the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with, yet he hasn't done the decency of at least a half glance her way.

"I was hoping to get to know old town a little better." She announced out of nowhere  breaking the silence, causing Lyonel to jump in his seat slightly.

"Hmm." Was all he responded with, his eyes turned away from her, using them to search the crowds for someone. "I'm sure my mother will show you around, if not her then perhaps a maid of some sorts." Was all he offered her before he stood up.

"If you'll excuse me just a moment I wanted to speak with someone." He told her, before he followed someone Sara hadn't seen before out of the room. Which was odd she thought

Lyonel did return, just not to her he was around the room speaking to what appeared to be friends and family, leaving Sara to her own devices. It was when the dancing had ended Sara began to truly feel annoyed, Lyonel had yet to come back to their table and at no point did he ask her to dance. She had moved to sit with her father when the dancing begun soaking up the time they had together, she supposed her and Lyonel had a lifetime together.

No bedding ceremony was called for which she guessed was her father's doing, instead guests began to leave gradually and when Alora waved over to her it was time for her own departure. Giving her father a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight she followed Alora to her new chambers she was supposed to share with Lyonel yet he was no where to be found.

He had left not long after the first chunk of people, she had thought it was to return to their chambers and perhaps he was just awkward around people, after all it was an awkward situation, but she was wrong and the chambers were empty.

With Alora gone Sara supposed she had better wait, just because no bedding ceremony was called for didn't mean the act wouldn't happen. Her mother had prepared her for it and to be honest she wanted to get it out of the way. So she gently took off her dress, which was a lot easier to take off then it was to put on, and sat on the shared bed. And so the waiting began.

But he never came

She must of fallen asleep at some point, as when she woke he still wasn't there, and the sun had risen and a new day began. And she was still utterly alone.