'But she's a girl!' exclaimed Stannis Baratheon. He had always been a traditionalist, and so it was not unexpected that the King's uncle would disapprove of Arya's break with tradition.

'Lyanna is not just a girl,' Queen Arya spat, 'She is a wise young woman, ear more intelligent than most of the young men who wish to espouse her and her throne.'

'That is another matter- Princess Lyanna is well beyond the age of marriage now, Your Grace,' said Walder Frey- the new one, his father long since dead, 'My brothers and I have a wide selection of men near her age she could choose from.'

'If we speak of marriage, we must surely think of the Dornishmen. An alliance with them would give us hooks in every region, and who better for a Princess than a Prince?' cut in Tyrion Lannister, somehow still hanging around in the small cabinet even though his sister had been executed a traitor when Gendry was legitimised. Somehow Jaime had escaped the chop, and lived in Tarth, it seemed, but Tyrion had always been a friend to Jon Snow, and a friend of the King In The North was a friend of the Queen of the South.

'It would seem there is only one man for dear Princess Lyanna,' giggled Varys. Arya frowned at him. She was very wary of the Spider, and didn't really know why Gendry kept him around.

'What do you mean?' she asked, challenging him with her eyes.

'I hear that Princess Lyanna is highly enamoured with...' Varys tittered, and Arya fought the urge to whip out the sword from her belt. She was a queen now, albeit an unorthodox, trouser-wearing one, and stabbing small council members wasn't very queenly. 'With Aeron Targaryen.'

Arya audibly hissed, but King Gendry just looked startled.

'Lyanna and Aeron?' he echoed, and Arya rolled her eyes. 'But they are always fighting!'

'Of course, dear,' said Arya, wrapping his hand in hers, 'But so were we.'

'He's almost a prince,' mused Tyrion, 'His father is a Targaryen and his mother a Martell.'

Aegon Targaryen sat in the corner, observing silently as he always did. He could have been king, but he had asked Arya to be his queen and she had turned him down, so he had settled for taking back Dragonstone and being a high councillor, taking Arianne Martell as his bride. His son Aeron could be a king instead, he reasoned, yet it wasn't his planning that beautiful Lyanna would fall so deeply in love with noble Aeron.

'My children will marry for love, not your politics,' said Arya fiercely, and Gendry put a hand on her arm to still her.

'We can talk of her marriage another time,' said Gendry calmly, 'For now, let's get back to the matter in hand: Lyanna becoming heir to the throne.'

'We won't talk of her marriage to all of you,' hissed Arya under her breath, and Gendry squeezed her little hand comfortingly.

'Why should you break tradition and appoint your daughter when for centuries we have only ever had a King?' asked Stannis, not angry, just confused.

'Lyanna is our first-born child,' explained Gendry, 'It would not be fair to skip over her because she was born a girl.'

'And she would be twice the king her brothers would ever be,' proclaimed Arya, getting a wry smile from Edric Storm, her husband's King's Hand. His nephews were kind, noble young men, one of whom wanted to be a maester and adored his books and the other already a knight at 13, an advanced Braavosi Water Dancer.

'Princess Lyanna is very intelligent,' cut in Willas Tyrell, Arya's brother-in-law and her children's tutor. Arya smiled proudly as he continued, 'She has been my pupil for five years and has learnt what most pupils would take ten years to learn. She also spent time in Old Town with her brother Ned and my son Robb, studying under the highest maesters in the Seven Kingdoms. My uncle could not believe her intelligence.'

'A king should lead in battle,' commented Tyrion Lannister, as if prompting Arya, and she wondered if he was on her side. 'Lyanna is a brave swordswoman and a strong rider, of both horses and direwolves,' said Arya, smiling.

There was muttering amongst the Small Council. Arya sighed. All Southerners were scared of her family's direwolves, even though the new litter- one for Sansa and one for each of the children the sisters had between them- were mainly tame, and they didn't seem to see what a valuable asset seven massive and easily controlled wolves were.

'Shall we...?' murmured Edric, and his half-brother nodded. 'Let us hear from Princess Lyanna herself.'

His voice boomed loudly enough that the princess heard from outside the throne room doors, and threw them open proudly. Arya never ceased to be amazed by her daughter's beauty, but she looked especially stunning in her almost-lilac grey gown, specially designed like all her mother's dresses to split into billowing trousers when she rode a horse. Her dark hair was loose and rippled as she walked, a bright contrast to her pale skin. She was so Stark in her complexion that you could almost smell the North on her, but her eyes were Baratheon, there was no denying it. They were blue as the water that lapped at Storm's End on a sunny day, and so tranquil it was hard to tell what the strong-hearted girl was thinking. She came over to her father's side, and put her hand on his shoulder.

'May I speak now, father?' she asked, in a light little voice.

'Yes, my dear,' King Gendry said, smiling broadly. Lyanna stepped forward to stand before the throne and address the small council, and Gendry took his wife's hand and squeezed.

'My councillors,' Lyanna began, in a strong voice that was somehow both commanding and deliciously light, 'I know I am but a young girl, but I have strength in my very lifeblood, the cold power of the Starks and the bold force of the Baratheons. I have been raised from a child to be a wise, just and honest princess, strong in the classroom and the battlefield. In Dorne, the eldest child always inherits, regardless of sex. Is it not fair for the eldest child to be skipped over only because she is a girl, and what have my good parents fought for, and brought to this realm, if not equality and the safety that comes with it?'

Arya smiled, but when she looked at Gendry she could swear he was crying.

'So,' Lyanna said, taking a breath, her incredible blue eyes raking her audience, 'I humbly ask you, my lords councillors, to name me your future queen, placing my claim before those of my brothers, who are supportive of my claim too. I call on you to do what your hearts tell you is right and best for the kingdom.'

With that, she nodded curtly and went to sit beside her father. It might have been Aegon Targaryen who began it, but soon the entire throne room was loud with applause for her, and King Gendry was pushing her to her feet again.

'Gentlemen!' he bellowed, standing beside his daughter, 'It is time to vote. All those in favour of Princess Lyanna Baratheon being named heir to the Iron Throne, raise your hands.'

There was a rustle of fabric as they all lifted their arms, and Gendry counted the thirteen risen hands.

'It is decided,' the King said, in a voice that was aimed at Lyanna but somehow audible to all, 'You are to be Queen, my darling.'

Arya stood and threw her arms around her daughter, and then Gendry's arms encircled the pair of them. Later she could celebrate with her lovely Aeron, but for now this was Gendry and Arya's victory too, and their family was strong.

A/N: This was written in response to a prompt from remix-sakura on tumblr. I hope I did it justice, even though I feel like Arya wasn't really herself in this fic. If you have a prompt or request, please ask me on my account here, or on tumblr at .com!