The Iron Throne is not a comfortable seat. I could tell from the moment I saw Cersei sitting upon it. The woman sat heavily like she had no thought of ever getting up, but I could see the scabs on her dainty wrists. My father had the same ones.

"You must be the Serpent Knight the filth have been whispering about. I expected the Targaryen wench but I have received a gaggle of Fleabottom rebels," she said flippantly. I smirked at her underestimation of her own people. "I must say, I am also thoroughly impressed. The poor have such strong spirits."

My soldiers became outraged at her insults. I raised a hand to quiet them and strolled toward the Queen slowly. She had no Mountain to guard her. Only her one handed brother standing beside her. She didn't know he was on our side at all.

"You don't know me, your grace. I must reconcile that now," I said, grinning maliciously. She raised a brow at me to get on with it. "My name is Ashen Storm, the Serpent Knight, bastard of Robert Baratheon, your late husband. I thought it was only right to begin a rebellion after my old man."

Cersei's face turned to stone as she seethed in her ugly chair. Her hands balled into fists and her eyes spoke of the unspeakable tortured she wanted to inflict. Even Jaime looked outraged at my revelation. I hadn't told him for a reason.

The man that fucked his sister had a daughter here to kill the woman he loved. It's poetic, really. I almost felt bad for him.

I understand their anger completely though. I wasn't just his bastard but his pick. The man had came as close to loving me and my mother as a broken fool could. He taught me everything I knew about battle and wielding an axe right under her perfectly shaped nose.

"I will have your head upon a spike. I will see all of Fleabottom burned to ashes and your bodies paraded through the streets by horses," she screamed. I stared at her intensely, my eyes burned into her mad orbs. There was no remnant of reason left in her.

"I will see this city burn before a bastard sits upon my throne!"

"It is not me who will sit upon the chair, milady," I said, crossing my sore arms. "I never was a fan of bulky chairs."

Cersei glared at me with the fierceness of a lion. "You look just like him. A stag through and through. A whore just like your incompetent father."

I walked a bit closer, giving the Kingslayer a look. He knew what he had to do. His sister was not saveable. He nodded minutely.

"I am not a stag, your grace. I never was partial to my father's sigil. Nor was I one for being named," I said, looking away casually. Cersei scowled at me like I was filth. I kept my face blank and continued.

"But, a serpent lurking behind the storm is what I am. A myth that is only whispers until made real. While you rallied against the Targaryens, I slithered in the shadows. Planting ideas in the men next to you. You've lost to a bastard, my lady."

We had destroyed all of her men and there she sat with her insufferable expression, clearly seething. Just waiting for something to happen as I smirked at her. What she didn't expect was her own brother to wrap his arm around her neck and squeeze.

I'd never seen someone fall unconscious so slowly in my life. He had finally gotten the balls to do it. Her madness had shown itself for the last time. He'd hoped to take her back to Casterly Rock but that would change her. She'd never be the same again.

I watched in satisfaction as the mad woman finally let her life drain away. Her eyes rolled back and her lids closed lie she was sleeping. I would've done something more drastic. Like burning her at the stake in front of all of Fleabottom. My people would have loved that.

Jaime Lannister came down the steps with his sister in his arms. His face was tortured with grief. I could hardly look him in the eye with how intense it was. I have killed people too but not my family. Not someone I loved. I love no one and I pride myself in that. It is weakness.

"Thank you," he said, voice cracking heavily. I nodded at him and turned around to signal my people to move. He stopped me. "I must ask something of you."

I cocked my head at him intrigued. What could he possibly want after killing his sister?

"Ask away."

The Kingslayer held his sister closer and looked down at her sadly. I felt that I knew what he was going to ask and I didn't know if I could go through with it. I'd killed a lot of guards and soldiers a few minutes ago out of honor. This death would be without provocation.

"I must die here where I've gone against my oath twice," he said, almost whispering. I sighed and looked at my people. They seemed to agree where I did not.

"You may keep my sword and my head if you want. Tell the Dragon Queen what I did. Tell my little brother that I've always loved him. That I'm sorry."

I looked at him to gauge how serious he was. He looked me in my eye with no fear. He had no qualms about dying by my axe at all. The man wanted peace and I knew that feeling. I nodded in acquiescence.

Jaime fell to his knees before me and held his sister close. I pulled my war axe from my back and steadied my aim. The silence in the room making my arms shake with apprehension. I raised it over my head and breathed out heavily. Something is wrong about, I mused.

"No. You will tell them yourself, Lannister. I won't have the Hand's brother die before he gets here," I said, lowering my weapon. Jaime gritted his teeth with anger but looked understanding as he stood. "Shroud your sister in gold. I have word that the Queen will be here in hours."

We watched as he walked away with his dead sister in his arms. I don't know how he managed to have such strength. I think love gives weakness but also strength when the time comes. I'd rather not have it at all.

I walked thowards the iron throne with memories flashing behind my eyes. My people got into guarding position as I made my slow progression toward the evil seat. Every bad thing in the realm came back to this object. My father had sat here. He had killed for this.

"I didn't really want to be king, kid. I wanted Lyanna. I wanted justice," he said, growling. My mother didn't dare to get angry at this. She knew what it was like to love and lose.

My mother loved my father but she knew he would never be hers. I held anger in my heart at her silence when it came to him but I understood. If not for my father there would be no food on the table.

She also felt obligated to stay with him due to his acceptance of my birth defect. He was much nicer than she expected. Calling me a "true stag" when they realized that in fact I was not a boy. He chose to make me his pick that day.

So many steps to go. So much blood on my hands that could never be washed away.

"I could never divorce Cersei. I could never legitimize you. For that, I am sorry and I never say that, but I am," my father said, sipping his wine. His obsession with it had gone out of control. "You have to do things that you don't like. There are always snakes and lions plotting everywhere. Spiders spinning webs."

I squinted at my father in confusion. I was so young at the time that I didn't understand what he meant.

"When you get older don't trust any son of a bitch with a pulse. Be the silent serpent lurking in the mist. Fools don't expect anything from a myth. Remember what your old man says. You'll understand later."

And I did. I always did.

Two more to go and I'm there. It makes me sick just to look at it. I've killed so many. I've spent so long rallying my people for this. To take the throne and give it to someone more suited for it. I could never be queen but I thought at least I could sit on it.

I didn't expect it to be this hard. So many memories.

"I'm sorry about your mother," Robert said, quietly. It was the quietest I had ever heard him. Also, the most emotive his voice had ever been. "I love you and your mother with what little of a heart I have left in this empty chest of mine."

Tears escaped as I sharpened my axe. My father had never said he loved me but I knew now that he did. His way of love was being there sometimes and giving knowledge. Giving us money when the royal copher was almost empty.

"This doesn't hurt you as much as losing her," I said, gritting my teeth. Robert's face seemed to crack open with bad memories. I felt bad now for bringing her up. He never talked about her unless he was horribly drunk.

"No, it's not. Nothing will ever make me feel that pain again," he grunted, throwing back more wine. I stopped sharpening to listen to him. "What I felt was a breaking, burning flame in my heart. Love does that. It breaks what it can't bend to its liking."

I watched my fathers face contort into such heartbreak that I had to look away. I had never seen the strong man become so melancholy.

"Lyanna Stark was the only thing I ever wanted and she was taken from me. Seven kingdoms couldn't fill the hole she left behind. Only the wine can erase her dead eyes from my memory."

As I sit down, I notice that I am right. The throne is uncomfortable but that is how it's suppose to be. A ruler should never sit as heavily as Cersei. There is no rest for the wicked or the powerful. Because too much power soon looks akin to tyranny in the eyes of people like me.

My fingers caress the seat my father held for years before his death. The seat he had fought for and won. The seat that reminded him of the love he'd lost and the woman by his side that would never replace her.

Now it reminds me of his death. There was no warning for me, the bastard child. I caught word through whispers from Lord Varys the spider. He knew my potential of course. I'd never felt such rage and fury in my life. I feel it now just sitting on this fucking hunk of metal.

It's wrong. Everything put into this thing is wrong and I want nothing to do with it. Still, I don't regret rebelling against the crown. I've shown the common folk that they even more powerful then they though they were.

All it took was rallying all of Fleabottom and whispering into the ears of a few nobles. I have no noble name, no money, and no family left. The people rallied behind me with a ferocity unseen even in my father's rebellion. Because they saw themselves in me.

I empowered the people to see their innate value. I allowed everyone into the ranks of my army willingly, excluding mothers of babes and the elderly. I recruited blacksmiths and amateur swordmen. Sellswords with a purpose and managed to recruit the Brotherhood Without Banners.

They knew of my cause without me saying it. They told me the flames showed them a Baratheon bastard with an axe for an arm and a serpent for a tongue. Of course I proceeded to shit myself. I'd never seen anything in a fire except inevitable pain or a promise of hot food. I rolled my eyes at Beric's insistence on calling me the Queen of Ashes.

The Hound grunted about killing his brother. I just nodded along with his murderous rantings. I am a wonderful axewoman if I say so myself, but I wasn't begging for death. The Hound is a big man. They could work out their differences. And so they did. With blood and gore.

All of this death just to escape one woman with a pension for madness. To gain freedom and just rule. For freedom.

As I look out at my soldiers, I see women and men built from the hardships of life. Eyes that have seen struggle and pain. Hands that have worked and now killed for their kin.

I think about the Targaryen woman coming to take this throne. From what I've heard, she's a just ruler but also ruthless toward those who should go against her. I didn't do this to secure the throne for her. This was for Westeros and the people in it.

If she should turns out to be anything like her father, she will know the wrath of the Serpent.