It seemed that Tywin Lannister, the new master of coin, would see his only daughter wed to a Baratheon after all -even if it were not the King. No, that was my pleasure to have entirely apparently.

Were it not for a lessened crowd I would have thought that it was a grander wedding than my own -I guess that was to be expected from the Lannisters. One could scarce think it was a Baratheon wedding at all what with the overflowing silks and decors of elaborate gold and blood red. Cersei Lannister looked just as beautiful as her father had boasted about during the negotiations, even though from the look of Stannis it didn't seem like something that would matter to him, I knew Stannis well enough by now that though he idolised Robert in some way for doing everything a step before him and a league better -it could not be said that he valued the same thing as his brother.

Robert and Renly stood to Stannis's side whilst I stood by Cersei's -a woman I had never met but who was to be a sister to me. To my far right stood Jaime Lannister, the bride's brother, who, as I could tell, was trying almost convincingly hard to keep his expression bored and impassive as the ceremony progressed. I almost felt offended for Stannis as I unknowingly watched Jaime Lannister bear witness to the wedding -was he not a worthy enough match in the knight's eyes? I'm sorry your sister is not the Queen, Ser.

I was Queen, I had been wedded and bedded and crowned by the King, but I felt small standing next to the lioness of rich golden tendrils and eyes that glowed so green they could be sold for fortunes. Robert's eyes lingered with a wolfish smirk, Renly watched in awe, her brother did not move his gaze from her, all was looking at the bride like she was the embodiment of sunshine except for the man who would have her.

Her dress trailed after her as they walked out of the Sept together and I found my own eyes unable to leave the deep crimson that almost stained the floor. My eyes were lost in the folds even as Robert took my arm into his and we trailed behind them. If I looked hard enough I could see the blood that I had been told stained those Lannister robes when they were presented containing the corpses of the fallen innocents. It was a beautiful dress, intricate and emblazoned with the pride of that house, but I could not unsee the very thread it was made of, the very reason it hung so proudly to the Lady's figure -a test of allegiance passed only by the murders my own husband was happy not to commit himself.

I sometimes wonder, if Tywin Lannister had not done so, would anyone else have?

After the wedding Stannis and his new wife sailed to Dragonstone; the ancient seat of the crown's heir. It was a harsh laugh in my face every time I heard it even though Robert and I had barely been married a moon's turn. Somehow when you are made Queen everyone suddenly expects you to have thrice the natural fertility rate than other mere mortals, and it is hard enough disappointing your husband's council without them reminding you that you were in fact disappointing the realm in its entirety. I was a Queen, held in the highest regard in title to all that came across me, so why was I being torn apart with such indignity? It was humiliating, having everyone know your secrets or what you did with your husband, even my own moon's blood was not privy to myself and Maester Pycelle had a foul look on his face when he came to check on me himself as if to say, "The council will not be pleased to hear about this". I was now chained to the shackles of being bred like a horse. But Dragonstone did not just remind me of my failings as a still early wife and Queen, it reminded me that my child would be King one day -and a prince before that. It hadn't dawned on me in the flurry of a week that had went by when I was due to marry Robert, but settled into me roughly as I watched that boat sail off to Dragonstone, and a part of me hoped that it would always belong to Stannis, Prince of Dragonstone now, and his wife could be Queen just as I knew she wanted, if it meant that my child would not have to bear the burden of a Kingdom.

Why did it have to be me, anyway? Cersei Lannister was obviously on the table, why couldn't I have been married to Stannis and Robert to Cersei?

When I had dared imply my question to the only other adult I could bring myself to speak to, Jon Arryn had told me,

"The King trusts his own blood more than he could any other, your Grace." Any other but the Starks, of course.

It was not a question I asked out of preference for Stannis, but just out of confusion as to why I, a highborn lady, yes -but not as highborn as my alternate, was chosen over any other to be Queen.

Perhaps it was because to Robert two Lannisters at court was more than enough. One of the only things Robert bothered expressing to me was his distaste for the blonde hair of Lord Tywin Lannister -even though it was already growing white with old age, and his son Jaime. Kingslayer he and everyone else called him now, and I could never understand why they said it with such disdain. He had done for them exactly what they had marched on King's Landing to do -why was he dishonest when they themselves had claimed righteousness to their cause? I found it cruel that he would be kept on only to be reminded he was a traitor at every turn, but Robert had insisted upon it even in the face of his best friend.

But Jaime Lannister did not need my pity, nor did he want anything from anyone else. I find it hard to imagine what it must have been like growing up with such a gallant wish to be famed for his glory and strength, what must it be like for him now that it was all reduced to standing guard while the King drank, hunted and whored or when the Queen wanted to take her walks in solitude? What could a bird do if its very wings were clipped?

Ser Jaime never spoke to me, no one ever did. They just followed me around as assigned. Some even stood outside my doors and listened when my husband grunted and groaned into me. Like I said, there is very little dignity in being a Queen. I was assigned ladies in waiting that I knew I would be too tired to even look at, even though my husband obviously did not feel the same. They would ask me how I liked my hair and I would tell them -but beyond that I could never bring myself to open up to anyone. There was no dignity in being a Queen when the only person you could trust was no person at all -but the wind that stroked the shoreline as you whispered your fears from your window. There was no dignity when everyone in court looked at you like you were not, and would never be, enough as your husband flirted with every available maiden. There was no dignity, not as a Queen, a highborn lady or a woman, when your husband publicly groped kitchen maids and whores for all to see. How could a kingdom respect me when not even my husband could?

And I could see it in everyone's eyes. Perhaps they admired that I was not crazed or falling apart yet, some of them even pitied my silence, but no one respected me. Not the Kingsguard who could not look me in the eyes when they met me, not Stannis who must have thought I was a fool for still standing, not the Council when they eyed my empty womb like it offended their positions every time they saw me. Not even Lord Arryn, to whom I would go to the most. He would tell me what my husband did not bother to tell me, things discussed at the Council meetings and the goings on in the Kingdom, but I could no longer shake the feeling that not even he respected me nor saw me as a whole person. I was only an unfortunate extension, an accessory to Robert's needs and Robert's line, sad and lonely and to them surely by now broken.

Jon Arryn is a nice man, though. He's a good man, as good as one could find here. He cares for Robert deeply and I know that he sees in him what I only get a glimpse of in time. Courage and passion, while I am usually faced with the other end of that coin -anger. All things considered, no matter how close he was to Robert and how much I could see he loved him, I trusted Jon Arryn. He was kind, and gentle, and always fatherly. Perhaps that is what Robert loved most about him too.

As for my husband's temper, there was hardly anything to be done about that. It was never really directed at me, I could scarcely say i've done anything to invoke his wrath -besides marrying him, of course, he shouted at anyone that was there to listen. At the cupbearer, his squires, the maids, the Kingsguard and his council, and he never held back even when I was on his arm. It was like he wanted me to see something, like he was trying to prove that that is who he was, like he wanted me to forget the boy I knew. He was already a distant memory, but he was all I had to cling on. For all the passion and anger Robert naturally emitted it was a wonder that our marriage was so dry and cold. The lost boy and the Robert I had now were the only ones I had. And then, of course, there was Renly.

Renly was the sweetest boy who ever lived. He was loud -he would not be Robert's kin if he was not, but he was always loud with laughter and abundant with sweetness. I could not speak to him, I could not tell him of the terrible numbness I felt when I lay by his brother's side, but he spoke to me. He told me of what he wanted to be when he was older, of his grand wedding and how he would search for a dragon across the Narrow Sea. "You sweet boy." I would say to him as I combed through his raven black hair with my fingers, "I'm not sweet, I'm strong." He would say bouncing off whatever surface that happened to surround us. I would read to him at his insistence and often as it seems that Maester Cressen had him quite spoilt on that front. He would come to me with a volume heavier than his own head and I would read to him until the day grew dark, and he would not move, he'd only listen, the loud boy would listen.

Tonight it was far past time for bed but Renly came to me right after dinner with a book about the Dance of Dragons, and I could not resist his sweet eyes. He climbed into my bed and rested his head against my chest while my voice carried tales of flight, great war and rivalry. Whenever I felt his little hands move against me I wondered whether this is what it would feel like to have a child, the son that Robert and the Kingdom wanted. A prince, a perfect black haired prince, would he still like me to read to him? Perhaps Renly was my only chance at doing so.

It was the strangest thing to finally feel like myself around a child of only six, but there was a certain freedom I found around him and his happiness that unchained a part of me that wanted so desperately to show itself again. I was not this icy, silent Queen, I was not a Queen at all. This isn't who I am, I am Helaena of Estermont, not this stiff placeholder for peace. At some point far across the Bays from this city I used to laugh all the time, my brother would take me sailing and I used to draw for hours trying to capture all the colours that made up the Narrow Sea. I was alive and I was so full of the summer storms I had grown used to. There were no summer storms in King's Landing, only a harsh sun that continued to judge me with every passing day.

As I continued reading to Renly I could almost feel him starting to doze off peacefully against my chest, so it was safe to assume that he would be sleeping with me tonight. Carefully so as not to disturb the tired boy I reached out for the candle at my bedside to blow it out, but I was stopped in my tracks as the door to my chambers flew open to reveal my husband's swaying figure in the doorway.

He was clutching a goblet of wine and sipping at it freely as he approached me, I saw the shine Ser Barristan's hair hold back and close the door behind his King. I don't think he registered Renly's presence against my breast because he barely looked at me as he walked deeper into the only place that was my own.

I brought my hand up to my lips to animate the silence that should have been maintained and Robert finally looked at me as I pointed to the sleeping child next to me. For a moment, I felt so utterly grateful to Renly because his unexpected presence would have spared me another night of feeling like I was second to a ghost, but it all vanished when I saw the effects of the wine travel to Robert's eyes and his usually silent nightly visit would not be so for tonight.

"What is this?!" He roared out, causing Renly to jolt awake and me to clutch Renly closer.

I had never been yelled at by Robert before, at least not so directly, and so I sweetened my voice slightly in some sort of appeasement.

"I was reading Renly a story and he fell asleep," Renly in turn grabbed my nightgown tightly with his eyes wide, "it's not a problem, Robert."

"It is a problem when i'm to visit my wife and instead find a little boy hiding in her sheets instead!" He bellowed loud enough to wake the entire floor. "Go back to your room, men don't need to be told stories!" He came closer to my side of the bed moved to tear Renly from where he lay in my arms, smelling of wine and other women, and I got up instead, carrying Renly to the floor and bent down so I was level with him.

"Renly, darling, you should go back to your chamber for tonight, Robert and I have some things to talk about."

"When Robert goes back to his room can I come back here?" I would have wept for the sweetness in his heart were it not for thunderous King that stood in our midst.

"Get out, boy, before I throw you out myself!" He leant over and carried Renly over his shoulder to take him to Ser Barristan outside.

"Take him to his room," I heard him order, "And don't eve let me catch you sleeping here again!" Robert continued shouting after them.

I had never had the nerve to before, but I was incensed at my husband.

"He's just a boy, Robert." I tried to say, but even my fury fell at my feet when I was faced with him -dark and suddenly quiet like the night. He's just a boy, he needs a mother.

"I'm the Baratheon that married you. I'm the one that gets to sleep in your bed." Robert slurred as he made his way once more to his side of the bed. To my surprise, he didn't wait for me to return and by the time I had settled next to him he was already asleep on his back, snoring boorishly.

It didn't matter that he didn't bed me -which is what he had come to me for. It didn't matter to him that this is exactly what we could have done had Renly stayed -instead he has been cast out. It didn't matter to him that I felt stiff and cold lying next to him. All that mattered to him was his victory, even one over a sleepy little boy.

The next day I woke with Robert's heavy arms slung around my waist, careless and suffocating. I thought of how the council would surely disapprove as I carefully crept out of bed to avoid the coupling I was spared from the night before -I had learned that Robert had an exceptional appetite in the morning. I was not afraid of being bedded by him, I never was, but I was still angry with him. And it would take a lot more time for me to cool my agitation than one night.

I left my room, knowing that someone would walk in eventually to ready the King, and went to walk Renly to his training that morning. I still didn't understand why Robert had insisted he train so early, I could only assume that kind of activity would only harden a boy and Renly was still so young, and it was not like Robert really bothered explaining to me. At about midday I returned to my rooms to find, thankfully, that they were empty. And so I took the time to answer a few letters and have my lunch as I stared out onto the city wondering how to draw it.

There was always some guard or other at my door, and they switched shift so often that I hardly noticed it, except this time I couldn't miss the outstanding gold of Jaime Lannister's head when I left my room. The initial shock that I had projected onto the situation held us at a standstill for all of a second, and, for what I believe it be the first time since coming to court, Jaime Lannister looked me in the eye. I did not find the pity that I had been accustomed to finding thus far, nor did I find the disdain I was shown for my supposedly weak womb, I found nothing and I welcomed it. It was a look of impassiveness, of indifference, and I couldn't help but find relief in that. He didn't look at me like I was his Queen -for all I knew I was not, but there was no dignity in being Queen. I was glad to not be Queen, to Renly and now to Ser Jaime.

As I made my way through the Holdfast, intending to find a quiet gazebo to sew my husband's -and also some of Renly's I had snuck in, shirts, I could hear Robert's bawdy laughs all the way from the floor above me, but he surely had no care for who heard what -especially his Queen. Robert is always so solemn, so sullen when he pushes into me at night -if he ever finds it in him to come to my rooms that is, but he seems to have no issue with joviality when he takes his whores. Perhaps it's because I am his wife and it should have been Lyanna Stark in my place -and perhaps Robert always knew those whores would never change, he would have had them regardless of who his wife was no matter how much he may have wished to believe otherwise.

I didn't dare look back at Ser Jaime as the sounds danced through the halls tauntingly. Don't change your mind now, Ser Jaime. Don't pity me.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed, this is still starting and things will start getting deeper next chapter. This is more of a slow-burn fic so...yeah.

Please review.