King Robert's Noble Bastard
Chapter 1
Carla Waters sighed as she ignoring the glare that was boring holes in her head from the Lady Cersei and 'lady' was used in loose terms. The woman was beautiful, no one could deny that, but her heart was stone as Carla called her the 'Stone Queen' in her head. Her son, Prince Joffery was no better, a real monster. She was the eldest of them, at 14 name days old. Joffery was 12 and done things and gotten away with it since she could remember. Tommen was 7 years old and a sweet nice along with his sister Myrcella, who was 8.
Carla Waters is their half-sister, looking as different as night and day. Her dark hair and blue eyes to their blond hair and emerald eyes they gotten from their mother. Carla guessed Joffrey gotten his cruelty from his mother, Cersei Lannister. Her father wasn't the greatest, but not that bad either. When she was 8, her mother died and it was living on the streets and a brothel. The way her mother talked about living in one and made her promise not work in one, forced her to the streets.
She had not notion of her father, just thought he was some random knight or man she's gotten within her earlier years. Truth be told, Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King convinced the king to have her and she lived at the castle. He seemed to like her more than his trueborn children. It was never said, but most knew.
The queen hated her, looked upon her was scorn and loathing, her brother Ser Jamie was indifferent and Uncle Tyrion said to call him uncle and he was her only liked of the Lannisters. He might have been the ugliest, but Carla cared none for that, he was the kindest to her.
Speaking of the Hand, he was in bed with fever. Jon Arryn was an indifferent man, but Carla grew to like him. He gave her a home where she could have been starved and dead on the streets. He was kind to her, even if wasn't an emotional man and she hoped he pulled through. Ser Jamie and Queen Cersei looked worried about something from time to time; she figured it was a sibling thing.
Her father, Robert Baratheon was pacing, drinking and hunting away his worries for his father figure. Grand Maester Pycelle came and went, trying to help him. Carla also was worried and hacked at a stuffed with straw dummy. She convinced her father to allow her to train in defense, knowing she wouldn't be able to inherit titles or be wedded to someone. He agreed with a bored look and allowed to be left alone in most matters.
With soft riding leathers and a white linen shirt with ties in the front near her neck, she let out all of her anger and frustration in her movement.
"Dear bastard, what did that poor straw man do to you?"
Carla stiffened and then relaxed her stance; it was only her Uncle Tyrion. He called her that a lot when they first met and at first she raged at him for it until he said the words that she starting taking to heart, plus he never said them out of malice like the queen would or the sometimes mocking way Ser Jamie would do.
Her Uncle was short in stature as he was a dwarf. With a uneven gait, a covering of straw covered hair, a mashed up face, large brow with a black and a green colored eyes. She never cared, she grinned at him. She remembered the words he first told her when she raged at him called her a bastard. Listen little Lady Bastard, never forget what you are, for the world will not. Make it your strength, and then it could never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it and it could be never used against you.
She smiled at him. "Uncle, you want something?"
He studied her and the strong grip she had on her sword. "I go by the saying, don't shoot the messenger. But Jon Arryn died."
Her eyes widened in shock and horror, her blade falling out of her hand and onto the ground. He sighed and his look softened as he looked at her. She gritted her teeth at the tears blurring her vision and she looked away from him, doing her best to blink them away. After making sure they would show, she trusted herself to speak. "How, what happened?"
He frowned at her, his face twisting into something. "His fever took him in the night." That's right, she was out here all night, and she didn't want to heat any more of her father's ranting and raving. She grabbed the wine skin on the ground and popped the cork, taking a deep draw and allowing the sour red drink to light a fire down her throat.
Take another draw, she offered her uncle some, which he accepted. She walked back with him as sheathed her sword back to her side. He had it back to her and she thought about what would happen. Her father needed a new Hand, but she didn't know where he was going to get it. From what she heard, the Queen would want her brother Ser Jamie or her father Tywin Lannister for the position.
Ser Jamie was of the Kingsguard and she knew how much he hated work and her father only did the dealings with Lord Tywin and that was only with money and even Lord Baelish or Littlefinger dealt with it.
For once, her father's face was solemn. He looked at her and she must of looked upset because he nodded at her with knitted brows and a deep scowling forming in heavy beard, full wineskin in his hand. They didn't say anything. It was decided after the funeral, the king would decide on a new Hand. The funeral was a short and solemn affair for anyone not in the small council or one that wasn't a Lannister, the smug unfeeling arrogant toads that they were.
Robert Baratheon said, seating on the Iron Throne. "I decided on whose going to be my next Hand of the King." He drank out of a horn of wine, making Carla wishing her brought her own. She stood in the far back in new trousers and a nicer shirt. Her father never cared how she acted or dressed, after all he was the king and she could of never of made a fool out of him, plus she preferred the loneliness instead of the attention, being a bastard got the wrong ones.
The small council was there, the Grand Maester, Lord Varys, Lord Baelish and the kings brothers and her other uncles, Lord Stannis and Lord Renly.
The Queen, Kingsguard and her children were also present. Everyone looked at the king. He spoke in his booming voice. "We will ride to Winterfell, where Ned Stark will be my new Hand."
Carla blinked and Cersei had a look of outrage for a moment. It made sense to her. Eddard Stark was Robert last friend from when he was young. Though she never met the man, she heard stories from her father about when they fought against the Targaryens, how he fought for Lyanna Stark, only for her to die by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, who he slain in battle by bashing in his chest and plate.
Chaos ripped around the room, which the king silenced. He said the royal house would ride for Winterfell. Carla was confused then if she would stay or go. The council meeting ended and before her father gotten up from the Iron Throne, she walked to him and bowed her head and then looked up. "Father?"
He looked at her with raised brows. "Huh? What?'
"Am I expected to stay or leave?"
Her father scoffed. "Isn't that obvious, you coming too."
Carla stilled herself, know the Queen would argue.
"I would not have this bastard come with us."
King Robert gave her an annoyed glare. "Silence women, I'm King and I say she comes." He looked away from her and back at her. "Gather your things quickly; we have a month ride ahead. We leave on the morrow."
Cersei gave a look of pure loathing. Joffrey gave her the same look. Carla was used to it, so she ignored the looks. Nodding to both of them, she left the throne room and into her chambers. With that, she packed a trunk full her things, clothes and other things of importance.
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She stood with the royal family as Cersei and her too youngest gotten into the wagon. Her, her father and Prince Joffrey were on horses. Carla was in brown pants, worn in brown boots and a blue shirt up to the neck with cuffs that tied at the wrist. A black simple jacket thrown over the back of her horse, behind her. With the wagon, and whole gang of knights and sellswords. They were a party of about 300 or more. Carla couldn't imagine Lord or Lady Stark would be happy about that.
The month was long with the banners of Houses Baratheon and Lannister flying in the air. The crowned stag and lion brightly and proudly displayed. Other than having to stop for that damned wheel house plenty of times, Carla enjoyed it, she could even ignore the aching in her muscles. They rode on the Kingsroad passing the Eyrie and the Trident, the mountains enormous when she could see.
Even the smell of the air excited her. Her father boomed with laughter when he saw her. "Got my blood in you! What you wouldn't give to ride through this!"
Carla grinned a familiar grin at him. "I can agree with you on that."
Her Uncle Tyrion smiled at her, chuckling at her. "What a wild excitement you have."
She laughed along with him. "I suppose I do."
She did, she wanted to ride, seeing the landscape pass her, feeling the wind rushing her hair, pushing at her face. They passed the Fingers and she looked out at the waves that she could see, them crashing on the shore, the smell of salt and sea surrounding the air. As they passed Riverrun, House of the Tully's, then passed Twins, which was house to the Frey's.
They rested close to the Neck and set up camp, there the air was getting cooler and Carla put her jacket too good use, closing in around her. She was born in Kings Landing, Flea Bottom, but it was warm in the South. She found a different beauty in the north than she did in the south. After they were rested and the king drunk and whored, they set back and ignored the Queen complaining as the king decided to do no more stops. The King was ahead of everyone, Carla close as she threw a scarf around her neck, the cold was biting and it was getting worse, snow falling when they reached Moat Cailin. The king cursing at the cold and he sent a letter to Lord Stark about their arrival.
The king swore some more at the cold as they moved on. They passed the Barrowlands and the snow gotten a bit heavier, annoying the king some more. Even if Carla enjoyed it, she wished she would've have grabbed her warmer clothes, but they were in her trunk back there somewhere.
Finally though after all of that riding for a month, a week after the letter was sent, they arrived at Winterfell. The gates were opened and they galloped forward, Carla allowed herself to fall back, behind the wheelhouse, next to her Uncle Tyrion. It wouldn't look well to see the king's bastard riding beside him.
Tyrion winked at her and she laughed. "Nice seeing you here, uncle."
He grinned back with a chuckle. "I could say the same, bastard niece." She stiffened at that, he hasn't called her that in a while. It used to bother her, but after a while, she figured it helped her grow tougher skin, an extra armor. Carla figured why he said it now. She would hear things from the residents of Winterfell and it helped her to remember not to lose her temper, the way she dressed didn't help matters at all.
She shifted on her saddle and walked her worse further. She sighed. "Let's get this over with then."
Tyrion chuckled in amusement and pushed his horse forward. He knew, his name the Imp was more than likely know here like everywhere else. Look through the hoard, she saw the Starks and company. Of course there was Lord Eddard "Ned" Stark with his brown hair flecked with gray, thinner than her father by a lot. They stopped after they all moved in, all 300 of them.
She looked over to see a woman next to Lord Eddard with red hair and blue eyes; she was as beautiful as people said she was. On Lord Eddard's other side his son with Tully blue eyes and red hair, their heir Robb Stark. Down the line was another one that could be a smaller Catelyn Stark, then another girl a little younger that took to Stark coloring, another young boy with Tully coloring and then a little boy that couldn't be older than three with red hair and blue eyes too.
As Carla trotted forward, her head tilted in interest at the dark haired boy behind them, Jon Snow, Eddard Stark's bastard. Then Theon Greyjoy, the Stark prisoner of war or as they called him, their ward. She didn't know many of them or their names at least, so she sat up a little straighter and watched as her father vaulted off his horse. He stomped forward, catching Eddard Stark in a bone crushing hug. "Ned! Ah, but it is good to see that frozen face of yours." Her father looked him over and said with another deep laugh. "You have not changed at all."
Carla nudged her horse closer and felt someone grip her arm, she looked over at her Uncle Tyrion. "Don't bring any attention to yourself."
She smirked and said quietly. "I won't, that's all I need."
Carla took a small sip from her wineskin and brought it back down. Licking her lips, she watched as Eddard Stark observed him, but bowed his head. "Your Grace, Winterfell is yours."
Carla saw Cersei and her younger children come from their wheelhouse along with Joffery, who had gotten off his horse, looking at the Starks and Winterfell with contempt. She shook her head at him. Carla saw her father look back at her for a moment and she frowned, shaking her head. With an eye roll, he looked back at his longtime friend and introduced his three trueborn children and wife.
Lord Eddard Stark kissed her ring, while her father gave Catelyn Stark a hug too. After the introductions were done and both sides were said, her father looked at Eddard Stark. "Take me down to your crypt, Eddard. I would pay my respects."
Carla who he was talking about and with the look on Queen Cersei's face, she knew it too. The Lord of Winterfell called for a lantern, a warm look in his eyes.
Cersei spoke up. "Certainly the dead can wait; we've been riding since dawn."
Her father gave her a look, and Ser Jamie took her arm quietly. Carla couldn't help the self-satisfied quirk of the lips. She knew that was humiliating and she wouldn't of wanted that to happen to her, but from the hatred she showed her (though understandable), left her with little to no pity for the Lannister. She knew that if her father died, she would have to go somewhere else, her half-brother and the Queen would never keep her.
Another reason why she wanted to know how to fight. While Eddard and her father went down to the crypt, Catelyn Stark helped the Lannister/Baratheon House to their planned chambers. Carla shifted, wondering what was going to happen to her. She didn't know if she wanted to ask the lady of the house, she also had a bastard, no doubt that she had a great amount of dislike for Jon Snow.
She caught her eye with the man she was thinking about. He stared, most like wondering why she was not introduced, as she clearly looked like she was of the king's blood. She held her sword in reflex. She looked away and looked at her Uncle.
He told her that there was a small chamber for her, connected the king's and the rest of them. She nodded and led her horse to the stables, jumping off. Dusting off her clothes, she went forward, dodging people. Lost in her head, she bumped into some. She blinked and saw it was that young girl from before…Arya Stark, the younger girl. With an embarrassed grin, she held out a hand, pulling her up. "Sorry, about that."
Arya looked up at her and shrugged. "That's okay, who are you?"
"Carla Waters."
"Ba-Girl."
Carla tensed at Cersei's voice. She nodded her head at Arya and made a motion with her head slightly. Arya's eyes narrowed, but the girl lost interest and walked away. Carla looked at the Queen and nodded her head. "Do you need something of me, Your Grace?"
Her green eyes were as cold as a serpent as she stared her down. "You will not be at the feast with me and my family. Somewhere away from us, do you understand me, bastard?"
She stopped her jaw from clenching too much and nodded her head respectfully. "Yes, you're Grace, completely."
With another glare filled with contempt, she followed their steward away from her.
"Excuse me?"
She turned to see Jon Snow stared at her a couple of feet away, looking strangely at her man's clothing. "Yes?"
"Did she just call you a…"
Carla raised a brow. "A bastard you mean."
Jon's face flinched slightly. "Yes that."
Carla gave him a dry smile and held out her hand. "Carla Waters, bastard of King Robert."
He frowned at her and shook her hand anyway. "It's nice meeting you."
Carla smiled again. "Likewise, good day Jon Snow."
She finally ran into no one else and made it back to her small chambers where she would refresh herself until the feast later that night, ignoring the rest of the royal family.
I know another fanfic, I think I have over 30 right now, with 4 others I'm working on, but this was stuck in my head and I had to write it.
Next chapter will be in first person Point of View.