A/N: Recently, I rediscovered this document in the depths of my filesystem... This was originally intended as a chapter to my Vikings/ Game of Thrones Crossover "Clash of Earls". I rewrote the part but now that this other story is nearly completed, I decided to publish this as a oneshot.
Roughly 10 years have passed since the purple wedding. Please note that the chapter was written sometime during the original run of Season 6, or possibly even in the break between S5 and S6, so it is not canon to events after the beginning of S6...
Although I don't like them, for the sake of the story, I have decided to write the Lannister's as the victors of the war. Tommen has been ruling as King ever since his brother died.
Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones. All rights remain with their rightful owners.
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Hair of Blood
"Tommen, my dear, have you heard?" Queen Margaery asked her husband as she stormed into the room. King Tommen of Westeros looked up from his desk, where he had been reading a document.
"I don't know", Tommen smiled, "What happened?"
"Last month, Paris was attacked", Margaery smiled, "It's only a rumor, but it's all over the city. They were besieged for months and finally, the attackers breeched the walls."
"That's impressive", Tommen Lannister told her, "I heard their walls were higher than the ones around King's Landing."
"You're not afraid that they will attack us next, aren't you?" Margaery shuddered at the thought.
"I don't think so, but taking such a city is definitely impressive", Tommen sighed, "It must have been a great general."
"Some say it was a woman", Margaery hinted.
"A woman?!" Tommen could barely believe his ears, "A woman who conquered such a well defended city? That is extraordinary…"
Margaery smiled at her husband. He had long ago learned that women were as dangerous as any man, when it came to power struggles in court. Herself and Cersei, Tommen's mother had been prime examples. But leading a large army into battle was unheard of.
"They say, she's called 'blood-hair'", Margaery explained, "She's the daughter of the King of the Northmen."
"Blood-hair?!" Tommen mocked, "Now you're making fun of me…"
"They say it's because she has slain so many men that their blood has dyed her hair permanently", Margaery replied.
Further down in the red keep, Ser Jaime Lannister was talking to Ser Bronn. Both were not clad in their armor, rather than wearing doublets and their swords at their belts.
"I'm worried about my sister", Jaime told his friend, "It's as if she knows nothing to do with her life anymore, ever since Myrcella died and the war was won."
"There is something she does", Bronn reminded him, "She's sitting in her solar day and night, urging everyone to bring her the head of the Stark girl."
"I know", Jamie sighed, "That's what I'm worried about. She disappeared from the entire world, no one has ever recognized her since she fled King's Landing, more than ten years ago. How is Cersei expecting us to find her now? And although I am sure she hated Joffrey, I don't know if I believe her capable of murder."
"I would agree", Bronn mused, "After all, when I was working for your brother, I got meet her regularly. She would never have done that."
The two knights walked on through the deserted corridors of the castle, until they reached the courtyard. Jamie Lannister swiftly mounted his horse.
"I will be at Casterly Rock for the next two weeks", he told Bronn, "Keep an eye on the things here, my friend."
"I will", Bronn assured him.
Ser Jaime Lannister joined his escort just outside the walls of the red keep. When he looked at them, he felt his heart sink. Green boys, most of them. Too many good men had died in the civil war they had been fighting to keep the crown. And those who were now old enough to be knights and squires, men-at-arms and sometimes even the captain of the guard, had been too young to fight in the last war.
His lion banner flying next to him, they rode out of the city, heading east towards Casterly Rock. When they had cleared the gates, they increased their speed until they were travelling at a fast pace, without exhausting the horses quite yet.
Cersei Lannister, the mother of King Tommen, was hiding in her bed, as she had done so often. Cursing her brother Tyrion and his wife, she spent her days reading the reports of all the spies employed by the Crown.
For the better part of the last ten years, what she desired most had been revenge for the killing of her oldest son, Joffrey. Tyrion had been charged and found guilty at his trial, but he was able to escape from his prison, before justice could be done.
His wife however, Sansa Stark, who was well known for her ultimate hatred of King Joffrey, had been able to escape while everyone scrambled over the feast, trying to save the poisoned king. In Cersei's eyes, that was proof enough that she was at least participating in the conspiracy for the murder of Joffrey. It was even likely that this girl had been the leader of the murders, but that didn't matter anymore.
Great prizes had been cast out on both Tyrion's and Sansa's head. But while Tyrion was believed to be an advisor to Danaerys Targaryen, Sansa Stark had been completely hiding from the whole world.
Someone knocked on the door. Cersei sat up in her bed and tried to look presentable.
"Enter!" she called.
"Your Grace", the handmaid said, "Your lunch."
"Put it on the table", Cersei grumbled.
As soon as Cersei had sat down and began to eat, she was interrupted by another knock on her door.
"Enter!" she called again, sighing in frustration.
The door opened and Grand Maester Qyburn strolled into the room, his chain clinging loudly as he took a chair from the table.
"What is it?" Cersei queried, "I'm not ill. If my brother sent you to ensure my health, tell him that."
"I'm not here on behalf of your brother, Your Grace", Qyburn smiled, "Although he asks me to keep an eye on your health from time to time – today I'm here in official business."
"What would that official business be?" Cersei asked, intrigued.
"Your son, the King, has invited you to the tournament for his upcoming nameday", Qyburn told her.
A few weeks later, the banners were flying high over the plains just outside the city, where the tourney was to be held. Tents and Pavilions had been set up in preparation and the place for the jousting was ready.
Finally, the sun rose, announcing the day of the tournament, so many had waited for. Despite all the legendary riches of the Lannister side of his family, King Tommen Baratheon had begun to spend considerably less money than his predecessors, holding only one tournament a year, on his name day.
By mid-morning, the place had filled with knights and lords, squires, sellswords, men-at-arms and the citizens of King's Landing. Even Cersei Lannister had left her rooms and joined the spectators, though she barely had a choice to refuse a formal invitation by her son.
Finally, King and Queen arrived and the tourney begun. Tommen and Margaery were sitting next to each other on the royal stand, Prince Titus, the two year old son of the couple sitting on his mother's legs.
When the jousting began, the chatter among the spectators died away, every eye following, as the riders tried to unhorse each other. Knights and freeriders fell to the sandy ground, their armor dented and scratched, their lances splintered.
As the riders were taking a break, the nobles swapped their seats and talked among each other. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the north was speaking to Jamie Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Jamie had only returned barely in time to see the tournament, although he was no longer participating, considering that he had lost his hand in the war.
"Lord Lannister", Ramsay Bolton said, "I am glad to see you here."
"I'm glad I'm entertaining you, Lord Bolton", Jamie replied courteously.
"Have you heard about the siege of Paris?" Ramsay asked, "One would think that a city built on the island of a river should hold out."
"It seems no one can talk about anything else, these days", Queen Margaery interrupted, as she walked closer, carrying her son in her arms.
"The general that took the city was a woman", Ramsay told them, "At least, that's what I heard."
"A woman?!" Jamie asked in surprise.
"The daughter of their King", Margaery explained.
"I heard that she slew so many men that no one could tell anymore what color her skin has", Ramsay added.
"From what I heard, she tricked the Franks and let herself take prisoner", Margaery recalled, "When they wanted to kill her, she slew her guards and opened the gates on her own."
"Mom, are those Ironborn?" the little Prince wanted to know.
"No my dear, they were not Ironborn", Margaery told him, "No one knows who they were."
The break was over and the jousting continued, until finally a single Knight was sitting in his saddle. When the night broke, the nobles returned to the Red Keep while the commoners walked off into the alehouses of King's Landing.
King Tommen and his Queen sat on their places on the royal table, surrounded by their families. Each dish was brought to the King first, so he may take whatever portion he liked and then spread through the hall.
Idle chatter filled the hall as the feast progressed, sometimes interrupted by singing and laughter. Finally, the Queen bowed towards her husband.
"I believe our son is getting very tired", Margaery said, "I will get him to bed, then I'll be back, my love."
Tommen nodded and watched as Margaery left the hall, little Titus on her arms. Soon she returned and the feast went on, almost nobody had realized her absence at all.
It was past midnight, when the hall emptied itself. Occasionally, drunken knights were lying under the tables or Lords were kissing servant girls. Tommen and Margaery left the hall and tired, full and a little drunk made their way to their rooms.
When they entered the room, Margaery had to be helped to keep from falling, her head feeling dizzy. She giggled and looked at her husband holding her upright.
"You know, it's been a long time, since he was earlier asleep than both of us…" Margaery smiled, before Tommen guided her backwards towards the bed.
In the morning, Margaery was pressing her hand against her head.
"I feel like the blacksmith hammered onto my head", she complained.
"We're not quite as young as we used to be, my love", Tommen commented, fighting his own headache.
"Don't remind me", Margaery sighed.
The small council had assembled after lunch for its regular meeting. The councilmen were all sitting around the table, King Tommen occupying his own seat.
"These rumors about the attack on Paris are unsettling, I find", Lord Joris Tyrell, Master of Coin declared, "What were we to do if these raiders reached our coasts?"
"We don't even know who they are", the Hand of the King, Lord Petyr Baelish reminded him, "What do our spies say about them?"
"Preciously few facts, I'm afraid", Grand Maester Qyburn, the Master of Whispers informed them, "The stories told by the traders are probably less accurate but actually more informative. What I've pieced together the past days, is this: Paris was attacked by people who called themselves Northmen or Vikings. During a siege which lasted several months, their King was killed and apparently his daughter continued to lead the army."
"His daughter?!" the commander of the city guard asked, "I would say, his son most likely…"
"It's possible of course", Qyburn admitted, "But there is a significant portion of reports that indicate that a woman, said to be the king's daughter, snuck into the city by night and opened the gates herself. She also kidnapped the Princess of Frankia and injured Emperor Charles, before making her escape."
"I hope they are both alright?" Tommen wanted to know.
"From what I heard, the Princess was released after the capture of the city and the Emperor's wounds are minor", Qyburn answered.
"The question still stands", the Master of coin reminded them, "What are we going to do if they reach our shores?"
"We will crush them under our shields", the commander of the City Watch declared forcefully.
"I'd love to see you try", Qyburn replied, "Paris is a well defendable city. If they were able to take it, they are likely to be capable of attacking King's Landing."
"Maybe we should send emissaries and negotiate an act of friendship?" Joris Tyrell suggested, "We have enough treasure to bribe them…"
"We could do that", Tommen agreed, "But still we don't know where they come from, so we are not able to send envoys to them. And bribing them may even guide them here to get the rest of the treasure."
"But what are we going to do, Your Grace?" Littlefinger insisted.
Tommen looked down at his hands for a moment, deep in thought. He took a deep breath, then made his decision.
"We are not going to do anything right now", he finally declared, "We cannot send envoys and everything else requires them to reach us first. We will see about that, if the day ever comes. In the meantime, the seven Kingdoms have enough problems of their own."
The sun had begun to set when the meeting of the small council was over. The Lords, maesters and the king dispersed, each walking his own way. Grand Maester Qyburn made his way through the corridors of the red keep, until he finally arrived at the rooms where the King's mother resided.
When he entered, Cersei Lannister looked up from her desk. Her blond hair had begun to turn grey the last year, yet the beauty of her younger years was still visible.
"Well, what happened at the meeting of the small Council?" she asked.
"The main topic was the attack on Paris", Qyburn reported.
"That's not surprising", Cersei agreed, "It would seem there is nothing else to talk about these days."
"There have been concerns about what happened if they were ever to reach the shores of Westeros", Qyburn told her, "But until then, this issue has been tabled."
"That's fine by me", Cersei smiled, "Anything else of interest?"
Qyburn smiled mischievously. "Not from the council meeting, Your Grace", he said.
"I fear that it may actually their ultimate goal to strike King's Landing one day, and Paris may just have been a good place to try their hand on sieges", Qyburn told her, "I have not told the council about this yet, because I wanted you to know about his first."
"Why do you assume us as their target?" Cersei asked.
"I am sure you heard all the stories yourself", Qyburn said, "About the Norse King dying and his daughter leading the final assault?"
"Of course I heard these stories", Cersei said, slightly annoyed, "The daughter who dyes her hair red with the blood of her enemies. Although that is highly unbelievable, I have no idea what those barbarians are thinking."
"This daughter is called 'bloody-hair'", Qyburn reminded her, "But what is my concern is her first name – it's of Westerosi origin…"
"Are you sure?" Cersei asked, "I don't know if I want to believe the stories about that girl at all. I will not fear her just because her name may come from here. What is her name, then?"
"Sansa."
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A/N: So, I hope you liked this oneshot, and that it wasn't too confusing. If you're not quite sure what is going on in the AU around them, make sure to check out the corresponding story "Clash of Earls" (I know it's a bit slow and very close to the Vikings storyline at the beginning, bear it, it gets better after a while).
Don't forget to review!