Chapter I: Change in Plan

He found the door to her chambers, one of the smaller rooms within the Red Keep, but elaborate nonetheless, for the Keep is home to the King of the Andals.

He did not have to open the door to her chambers to know the windows were open to allow the late afternoon heat to fill the room.

When he did quietly open the door as to not to disturb her, he found her in the back corner of the chamber where she was gazing at her reflection intently in a looking glass he knew once belonged to her mother.

King's Landing suited her since she became a permanent resident at the capital after her visits to the North were suspended.

Her once porcelain skin now shown with a light glow from the heat of the South.

She had grown taller as well though she still looked as tall as the Imp when she stood near him. Her womanly figure had developed with curves that had not gone unnoticed by the young lords that visited King's Landing.

Her fingers worked meticulously within her thick, waist-length, raven hair, which glistened almost red when the sun hit it just right, as she weaved an intricate braid that no doubt one of her handmaidens had shown her.

The handmaiden easily could have done the braid herself if she was present, but he knew the young lady was too stubborn for her own good and often preferred to do things herself than ever admit that she needed help.

Her bright green eyes studied her finished product.

She dressed in an outfit of her creation. The high collar, sleeveless number clung tightly to her waist with just enough of cut down her chest to hint at what was underneath.

Backless as well, the linen draped around her elegantly, but he knew it was no dress and when she turned around the faux dress would fade away to show loose trousers underneath.

She was not as skilled with a needle as others, but she was decent. She was able to craft the first outfit of this design as a pattern for her much more gifted handmaiden, who had expanded her closet with delicately embroidered numbers of varying colors.

She often said her handmaiden could earn her weight in gold with her stitches, and the black ensemble etched in gold designs displayed her handy work. The lone decoration she allowed herself was a golden belt with a lion's head that hung loosely around her hips.

Her aunt highly disapproved whenever she wore her trousers suit over one of the many dresses in her closet. She would chastise her niece for a lady should not be parading around in such a getup, especially a high-born noblewoman.

She argued that the loose linen was more practical in the heat of the South than a corseted dress with more skirts underneath than people living in Flea Bottom.

She also argued that it was much more practical for her other exercise that her aunt thoroughly disapproved. She and her uncle kept it as hidden as possible, but everyone knew of her training. No one chose to speak of it, and he could see the light muscles forming where the fabric clutch to her skin. The training was paying off in more ways than one.

She compromised by wearing dresses that received her aunt's approval when she attended court. In exchange, her dear aunt kept her snide comments about training to a minimum.

The black fabric of her outfit, the color of mourning was what caught his attention and brought him back to the present.

Jon Arryn, the Lord of the Vale, Warden of the East and Hand of the King had passed. He knew she was not close to Lord Arryn, but he treated her kind. She was distraught to hear the news of his death.

The King and the majority of his court were making preparations to travel to Winterfell to appoint Lord Eddard Stark as the new Hand of the King if the Warden of the North accepted the post.

The Red Keep was frantic with noise as trunks were packed and loaded, food stored and other last minute preparations hastily completed. The party was set to make the trek to the North at dawn.

That was why he was here.

"I often think my dear sister is back amongst the living," he said with a hint of sadness touching his features. "You look more and more like her every day."

"Uncle Renly!" she shouted with glee. "I thought I would not see you before you traveled to Winterfell."

She rushed to his side and engulfed Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, into a warm hug.

"I wished I could remember her," she spoke once she released her uncle from her grip, commenting on his earlier statement.

"Rebecca was as fierce and stubborn as Stannis, but thank the gods they were not identical twins," Renly joked on behalf of his elder brother. "The Others would build a wall of her own if we had two of his mug running around the Seven Kingdoms."

Kathleen joined his laughter with her melodic giggle.

"She loved you deeply, child," he spoke with more seriousness to his tone. His niece did not often ask or talk about the mother she never knew, the mother that gave her life to bring her into this world.

"Every minute of the day, your name was on her lips," He smiled, as he drifted away in memories. "She would yap anyone's ear off about you if they gave her an opportunity."

"Her proudest moment was bringing you into this world, holding you for what little time she had. No one could ever love something as much as she loved her little Kat."

Kathleen felt the warm tears forming as heard her uncle's words and thought of the love of her mother that she would never know. She often felt a fringe of guilt as she thought of her for Rebecca Baratheon would be in this world today if not for her.

"No more talk of ghosts," Renly finished as he tenderly squeezed her shoulder. There was no time to waste. "You need to start packing."

"Packing?" Kathleen asked in confusion. "Aunt Cersei thought it best if I were to remain behind."

Kathleen was ecstatic to hear the news that King Robert was to travel to Winterfell to extend the offer of Hand to the King to Lord Stark.

The Starks were as much as her family as her blood, even more so in certain cases.

She often sent ravens to Winterfell with letters to the Stark children to stay in touch with her dear friends, but she missed the North terribly.

When she heard her Aunt Cersei and cousins would be traveling with Robert, she had no doubt that she would also be allowed to move with the company, but Cersei ruled against her, and Robert prefer to avoid conflict with his wife.

"Aye, she did," Renly spoke with a sly smile. "I talked with my dear brother, and I am remaining behind. Someone has to run the damn kingdom while your uncle is drinking himself into an early grave. My place in the company is now vacant. I appointed you."

The smile that spread across her face was worth all the riches in the Iron Bank, and Reny matched her excitement with a smile of her own as he watched her spin in a circle and thank the gods for the change in luck.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She shouted with glee as she showered her uncle with kisses on the cheeks.

"You best hurry up, princess," he smiled as he pushed her towards her trunk. "Dawn will be here before you know it."

Kathleen smiled and rolled her eyes at the pet name Renly bestowed upon her long ago. She was not a princess by any means. She did not have that title like her cousin Myrcella, but ever acting the part of a tomboy growing up, absolutely despised when her uncle called her by the name.

It had stuck through the years, as she grew into the beauty and grace to rival any princess and it became an affectionate pet name shared between the two

"Do save room in the trunk for this."

Renly reached out into the hallway for a package that he had left just outside the door.

Once her father passed, the men in her family took it upon themselves to fill the void, especially after experiencing guilt over sending her to the North so soon after and then stripping her away from her new-found family in the Starks.

Kathleen took the large package and set it gently on her bed before tearing away at the wrapping.

"Renly…" she whispered in awe.

It was the most stunning dress she had ever seen. The gray off-the-shoulder gown made of thick velvet suited the Northern weather.

The corseted top would show off her newfound figure. She ran her fingers across the fabric of the sleeves. It melted through her fingers.

Snowflakes were sewn into the dress with a small crystal in the middle of each that sparkled when hit by the sun. She even noticed dire wolves within the needlework throughout.

"It's gorgeous," she managed as she appreciated the garment. "I can't."

"You can, and you will!" he protested. "The Lady of Winterfell must fit the part. Robb Stark will follow you around like a lost pup when he sees you in this."

He winked as she turned a fabulous shade of pink.

"He has made his intent known to Lord Stark," she dreamily spoke as she gazed out the window to a land far out of reach. "He said his father would ask uncle Robert once we reach Winterfell. Do you think Lord Stark will ask like Robb says?"

Renly had known faster than anyone that Kathleen was head over heels for the eldest Stark child. He noted it sooner than Kathleen knew herself.

When she returned from her yearly visits to the North, all she would speak of was her dislike for the boy, but that was before she grew to find interest in the opposite sex.

As she grew, she continued to speak of Robb, but the hatred turned into a friendship. It was only after her visits to Winterfell terminated that her feelings grew even more. She was heartbroken without him.

The two exchanged love letters sent through ravens where decelerations and promises made. She kept the letters hidden from everyone save Renly, though everyone within the Red Keep knew of her long-distance affair.

Renly knew just how much she cared for Robb Stark, for all the Starks for that matter. The thought of being bound to him forever was the deepest wish her heart could ever desire, the innocence of young love.

"Lord Stark could not ask for a better match for his son," Renly offered to ease the worries of his niece. "He would be a fool not to ask, and Robert would be a fool to deny him."

"Picture Cersei's face when she hears the news," Kathleen giggled. "Kathleen Lannister to marry a Stark."

"It may send her to her grave, so all the more reason for Robert to agree to the marriage," Renly continued to poke fun of the Queen.

"What if he doesn't approve of me?" Kathleen meekly asked as the doubts crept back into her heart. "We have not seen each other since we were children. I may not be what he expects."

"Princess, that Stark boy will melt the Wall himself once he lays eyes on you," he laughed. "If not, Robert will throttle the boy himself if he denies you."

She gently picked up the dress Renly had made of her as if it would shatter like glass if held the wrong way and placed into safely within her trunk.

"Will she have approved?" she asked.

Renly knew who she was without needing a name. Kathleen did not have a mother to prepare her to be a proper lady, to plan a wedding or being a life as a wife and eventually a mother. Her aunt Cersei served as her adoptive mother until her children were born, and then Kathleen became a nuisance.

"Your mom would not think he is good enough for you," Renly said as he watched his niece pace back and forth around the room, grabbing clothes, books, parchment and anything else she might need on the trip, "but she would not think anyone would be good enough for her daughter. All she ever wanted was your health and your happiness. If she could see you now and hear you talk about Stark, she could not deny him your hand."

Kathleen smiled up at her uncle for his kind words and returned to her work while humming a tune.

"Shall I send a raven to your lover boy to inform him that you shall now be gracing him with your presence," he called over his shoulder as he made his exit.

"Believe it best to leave this as a surprise," she said with mischief in his eyes.

"May the gods bless Robb Stark for he knows not what he is getting into," Renly replied with laughter in his voice.

"I'm forever in your debt, uncle," she called, as he was about to close the door to leave her to the rest of her last-minute packing. "I love you the dearest, and you are without a doubt my favorite."

"That is until Jaime has a new sword welded for you, you charming little snake," he countered as he closed the door.

She rolled her eyes at the closed door as she continued to dance around her chambers collecting jewelry, clothing and cloaks to prepare for her journey.

"Kathleen Stark," she whispered as her fingers lightly traced a dire wolf sewn into her new dress. She enjoyed the way it rolled off her lips.