Okay! So this is my first Game of Thrones fan fiction ever, so please be nice! I hope you enjoy.

Love,

Tressa

I look down at my large chest that houses all of my dresses and sigh.

"Are you in need of assistance Princess Annablyth?" My ever so faithful handmaiden, Eva, asks. I nod. "I just need one more dress to have enough, but I can't seem to decide!" Eva walks towards me, and pulls out a beautiful red dress adorned with gold. "Lannister House colors." I mutter. She smiles and nods.

As I'm folding the dress into my trunk, a knock sounds. "Come in!" I call. In the doorway is a young girl of about 12. "King Robert requests your presence in the throne room your grace." I sigh. "Show me the way."

I follow the girl, bunching up my green dress that matches my eyes perfectly, and arrive in front of my father. "Your grace," I greet, curtseying. My father laughs and bellows, "Please, with the formalities." I stand straight. "Why did you want to see me, father?" I inquire. Father's eyes looked sad. "I have tried to keep you here in King's Landing for as long as possible." He started to explain, his loud voice echoing through the hall. "To keep you away from any prying lords. But your… maturing has long passed. If I wait any longer, I am afraid I'll never get rid of you." He chuckled anxiously. "Are you saying-" I trailed off as he nodded. "My darling, you are to be married."

I gulped. "To who?" I muster. "Robb Stark." I nod. "When is the wedding?" My father's voice was gruff when he answered. "A week after we arrive."

"Please excuse me," I stutter, and start to run. I end up in the gardens, and I cry.

I don't why the tears stream down my cheeks. I've known my entire life that one day, I would end up marrying some lord to make an alliance. I always secretly hoped that somehow I would stay in King's Landing on the small council. Or better yet, the throne. No - that right was reserved for my prick of a brother Joffrey. Still, I belonged in the South, where the sunsets were magnificent and the castles enormous. I didn't belong in some grey stoned house that feels like the ocean in winter. And I didn't want to marry Robb Stark. I hated that women were about the same value of a piece of paper - both can work as a treaty.

My mother probably knows, and she probably fought it too. She and I are close. Maybe because I'm her oldest daughter, or that she and I look startlingly similar.

I see why everybody says so. We have the same green eyes, facial structure, and build. The only noticeable differences were our age, the hair, and that my face seems... softer somehow.

When I was little, I asked my mother if she agreed. She shook her head and said, "You only truly look of my mother, Joanna." I then went to my grandfather, and asked if this was true. He struck me so hard that I was left with an angry welt on my cheek for a week. Not so long after, I realized why Tywin always had hated me. I looked just like his lost love.

My mother eventually finds me, but by then the tears are dried. "I'm glad that you spent your last day here in the garden." She says. "You won't see King's Landing for a long, long time."

She drapes her arm across my shoulders, and leads me to our carriage.

************************************************************************************************************************************I admit that this journey is miserable. Hours on end listening to Joffrey's taunts about Robb and I was terrible, and my mother would just give him a pointed look. If she wasn't around, I knew that I'd seriously injure the little shit…

The scenery is beautiful though. And I keep myself busy.

Dear Robb,

As we are to be married, I believe that we should at least get to know each other before saying our vows.

My name is Princess Annablyth of House Baratheon, and I enjoy reading. Our journey is long and miserable, with stops every other night at random castles where the lords are too eager to please. I already miss King's Landing, and I don't know how I'll survive in the North.

Sincerely,

Annablyth

Father had been overly pleased with sending a raven, and Robb's response came back within a week.

Dear Annablyth,

I completely agree with the need to know each other.

My name is Lord Robb of the House Stark, and I enjoy sword fighting. I know that I will impress you with my extensive skill of it. I hope that you enjoy the North, but I do admit it gets cold for a Southerner girl like you.

Stay Warm,

Robb

I laughed at that, and admitted I could have been betrothed to some old greasy lord. I talked to a handmaiden who used to work at Winterfell, and said that Robb Stark was handsome. "He has dark red hair like his mother, and Tully blue eyes. He was nice and strong, with a good, sharp face."

"How old was he when you knew him?" I asked as she brushes my raven hair. "Only 13, so he must have gotten so much more handsome now!" I laugh. Maybe it won't be so bad.

I dismiss the handmaiden, and bring out my book. We were staying at an inn, only a week away from Winterfell. I was giddy. I don't know wether it was from excitement or nervousness. I sent a raven talking about the Red Keep weeks ago, but I haven't gotten a response yet,

A knock sounds at my door. "Come in," I call. My mother in all her glory comes sweeping in. In her hands is a large mass of white. I know it's my wedding dress.

She sets it down. "We just need to size it my dear." I undress, and my mother slips it on. As she adjusts it, I observe myself. It's a northern dress, nothing like that of southern weddings. It has a neckline of the top of a heart, and has a waistline of pearls. It then poofs out. The material is silk.

However, a thin floral patterned lace crawls up from the neckline to my neck and down my arms. Mother finishes adjusting it, and I smile.

"It's beautiful," I whisper. Mother makes a tisking noise. "It must be scraped. The neckline, the lace... It all makes you look like an untouchable doll." She goes to the back, where all the delicate hooks are, and I know she plans to rip them.

"Stop!" I grab her wrist. "I like this dress, and I'm going to wear this one when we wed under the Godswood." Mother looks surprised, and silently, and gently, unhooks my dress.

"I'll send a tailor tomorrow." She mutters.

I smile.

Yes, I think, maybe this wedding won't be too bad