Pieces on a Board
Kenna studied the board carefully, eyebrows furrowed in keen concentration. Most of the pieces were taken off the board. Surprisingly, her younger sister had proven herself to be quite the opponent, though she preferred a defensive strategy which meant that the game went much slower. Kenna hadn't played cyvasse in years, the last time being with Uncle Tyrion in King's Landing, and so she was a bit rusty. That didn't mean a girl as young as Myrcella should be able to beat her, however.
"Where's Mother?" Tommen whined, his voice distant to Kenna as she tried to decide what to do next. The last time she looked at him he was playing with a knight, now he was playing with a wooden dragon. "I'm bored!" her little brother exclaimed.
"I don't know where Mother is, Tommen. She will return when she wants to," Myrcella said as softly as she could, but there was a sharpness to her tone. She was trying to concentrate as well, and obviously didn't take too kindly to the interruption.
"Why do you two keep staring at the table?" Tommen questioned, placing his knight on the floor beside him and walking over to the table where Myrcella and Kenna were playing cyvasse. He let out a heavy sigh once it became clear that they weren't going to answer him. "Why are you two ignoring me? Its not fair! Just because I can't play chinis-"
"Cyvasse, Tommen," Myrcella corrected, not taking her eyes off the board. "And we'll talk to you in a few minutes. Just let us finish the game."
Tommen huffed and folded his arms, muttering a begrudging 'fine.' He stomped back to where his dragon was placed on the floor and fell onto his arse. A frown stayed stubbornly on his face as he played with his dragon. Kenna felt bad, but her attention was soon grasped again by the compelling game in front of her.
She feared making her king vulnerable if she was to take Myrcella's dragon with her trebuchet, even if said dragon was the biggest threat to her elephant – one of the most powerful pieces on the board. Without her dragon, Myrcella would be at a disadvantage, and Kenna could move her elephant in front of her king in the next go...
Chewing at her lower lip in concentration, Kenna decided to take Myrcella's dragon with her trebuchet. Myrcella stayed silent, though a frown did come upon her pretty face as she moved her heavy horse two squares away from Kenna's king. Just after Kenna moved her king away from the threat, someone had opened the door to Kenna's room and entered it with the speed of lightening.
Because of the long, golden hair, Kenna knew that the woman was her mother. Though her back was facing her children it was clear that she was distressed. Her shoulders rose and fell as she took in heavy, shaking breaths. Nobody spoke for a while. Kenna and Myrcella had stopped their game, Tommen stared, bewildered, at their mother, yet nobody spoke.
"The boy fell," Cersei broke the silence, her voice strong and queenly. It was as though she hadn't just crumbled in a way that both bewildered and frightened her three children. As though the display never happened. "The young boy, Bran... he fell from a tower while climbing. A pity, really. The Starks are in mourning."
Her own breath got caught in Kenna's throat and her hand went immediately to her abdomen. Bran – who was always so lively and kind, who had never made an unsteady step while climbing – falling from a tower? It broke her heart and shocked her.
"Is he... is he alive?" Kenna said shakily. She had seen this boy toddle around Winterfell, seen him become a young man... she didn't think she could bare seeing him buried in the crypts.
Cersei eyed her carefully for a few moments before finally giving the much anticipated answer. "Yes." Kenna breathed a sigh of relief and silently sent a prayer of thanks to the Mother. "But only barely. He fell from such a height... he can't have survived."
Kenna didn't fail to notice the hopefulness in her mother's voice. She always knew her mother wasn't like most mothers – she was frosty at times, sometimes downright cruel – but Kenna never thought her capable of wishing harm on a child. Had she been sharper, if she hadn't just learned of a young boy's possibly fatal fall, she might have dwelled on it, but alas her thoughts were once again occupied by Bran.
The four of them stayed in silence for a while. It was a mournful silence, though Cersei seemed to be concentrating on something. She seemed fearful too, and somewhat guilty. There was a twisting feeling in Kenna's gut – a churning. Poor Bran – and Robb, oh Robb! All the Starks must be heartbroken! Kenna herself was devastated; and if she, someone who wasn't even related to Bran, was feeling so much sorrow, the Starks must be absolutely crippled by devastation.
Their thoughts were interrupted by another person entering the room. It was Joffrey this time, and he wore a bemused expression and a petulant pout. "The hunt was called off, can you believe it?" he exclaimed, shaking his head.
"Because of the Stark's boy's fall?" Cersei questioned.
"Yes, because of that stupid boy we all had to come back!" Joffrey cried, as though it was some great injustice. "I was just about to take down a stag when the messenger came. The fall of a silly little boy shouldn't merit the cancelling of a hunt – especially not a royal hunt. Hopefully it won't delay our return to King's Landing."
With anger bubbling in her belly, Kenna raised her eyes to look at her brother, hatred heavy in her gaze. She opened her mouth to insult him, but, much to her surprise, her little sister spoke first.
"That's a horrible thing to say, Joff! Bran could be- be dead! How could you say such a thing?" was Myrcella's outburst. It was the first time Kenna had heard Myrcella raise her voice. She had seemed so sweet, so docile. Perhaps, beneath all that sweetness and gentleness, was a girl of steel.
Joffrey towered over Myrcella, a sneer etched on his somewhat girlish, yet still handsome, features. "I say it because I can. Know your place, Myrcella. Little princesses do not chastise kings!"
"You're not king yet," Myrcella said quietly, staring at the floor below her.
His fists clenched by his sides. Kenna looked to her mother, urging her to say something, to intervene as mothers should when their children are squabbling, but Cersei stayed silent, and quietly observed her two children with narrowed emerald eyes.
A malicious smirk soon graced Joffrey's lips. "But I will someday, and you will be punished for your insolence, little sister, mark my words!"
"Enough," Cersei eventually intervened, just as Kenna was about to bark at Joffrey. She sent Kenna a stern look to silence her. "Go to your rooms, all of you. Myrcella, bring Tommen to his."
Demurely – they were all demure when it came to their mother – Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen left Kenna's room with their heads bowed. Joffrey was the most reluctant, but complied nonetheless. Myrcella sent Kenna a small smile over her shoulder, and Tommen, upset by what had happened to Bran, offered her a tearful goodbye.
"I should go to them, to offer my condolences," Kenna said. It was all so surreal to her. She stood up, shakily, but before she could stand up straight her mother gestured for her halt and sat herself down on the chair in front of Kenna, the one Myrcella had occupied only moments ago.
"No, sit," Cersei commanded. Kenna didn't oblige immediately, and for a second she was tempted to disobey her mother and leave anyway, but Cersei's stare weathered her down. She lowered herself onto the chair again and watched her mother warily. "We ought to finish this game. Your sister is quite the cyvasse player, I'm sure you've noticed. She has set herself up nicely."
Kenna observed the board in confusion. As far as she could see, Kenna was winning. All of Myrcella's pieces were in vulnerable positions. "Its your turn," Kenna informed despite her confusion.
Cersei nodded. She picked up Myrcella's heavy horse, which was hiding behind her spearman, and took Kenna's elephant, and also placing Kenna in a position where, next go, she would lose another one of her elephants. She moved one of her elephants out of danger, and Cersei took the other one in her next turn.
Her king was threatened, and within the space of two more turns Cersei had killed Kenna's king. She never thought her mother was so skilled at cyvasse. Kenna wondered what else she didn't know about her mother.
"You were such a tiny little thing when you were born," Cersei began in a distracted, far-away tone after neither of them spoke for some time. "Pycelle said that you wouldn't survive the night. It didn't matter much to the council, or anyone really. You were just a girl. Robert was upset, of course, but not as disheartened as he would have been if it had been his heir. I wept that whole night. I prayed with you in my arms – the first time I prayed in only the Gods know how long. I never loved something so much. You may have had Robert's hair and his eyes, but everything else was me. When you opened your eyes the next morning, I had never been happier. Robert said that it was that Baratheon fury – their stubbornness – that kept you alive. But I knew – I knew that it was me. It was the Lannister in you, the lion. And when you cried, the first time you ever cried, it was a true roar, a lion's roar, and I knew that you were mine."
Her mother stared into the hearth, a small, rueful smile on her lips as she watched the flares dance. "And I would do anything for those that are mine. For you, for Joffrey, for Myrcella, Tommen too... I would do anything. Even if that meant tearing apart Westeros, or burning it to the ground – I would do anything."
Kenna didn't know what to say, or if she should say anything at all. Cersei's lips were pressed together in a thin line, her pupils reflecting the fiery heat of fire. It was as though she was trying to convince herself of something – of what, Kenna didn't know.
The queen stood abruptly, and as she did Kenna pushed back her chair and stood too. "I should leave you to get some rest," Cersei said, eyeing Kenna carefully.
And that she did. Only Kenna didn't sleep when her mother left her, choosing instead to wait a few minutes – until she was sure Cersei was a fair distance from her room – before throwing a robe over her nightgown and rushing to Robb's chambers.
The corridors of Winterfell's keep were oddly empty, and the few people she did see looked as heartbroken as Kenna did. In King's Landing, if someone other than the king or the crown prince had an accident, Kenna didn't think anyone would care much.
She pushed open the door to Robb's chambers slowly. "Can I come in?" she asked in a hushed tone, just in case he was indecent.
"Kenna?" he questioned. She took a small step into his room and nodded.
Boys didn't cry. Once they reached the age of one and ten or so, they weren't allowed to cry. Girls weren't either really, but exceptions were often made, considering that women are the weaker sex. And so, because of this unspoken rule, Kenna was taken aback when she saw that Robb's eyes were rimmed with red and his cheeks stained with tears. She didn't judge him though – how could she, when his brother was, according to her mother, unlikely to make it through the night?
Without a second thought, she shut Robb's door closed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and holding him to close to her.
"Luwin thinks that he won't make it," Robb whispered into Kenna's hair, his fingers entangled in her curls. He was trying not to sob, to keep the tears from his voice, but he couldn't quite manage it. "I don't know what to... what if he doesn't make it? He's so young, Kenna. He had so many dreams... he wanted to be a knight! And even- even if he does survive, Luwin thinks he'll be crippled for life! What kind of existence is that?"
Kenna's heart thumped violently in her chest. She swallowed, hoping to force down the growing lump in her throat that stopped her from speaking. "Its still an existence, Robb," was all she could think of. "He deserves so much better, but at least there's a chance he might live. And he has a quick mind – a mind like his deserves to flourish."
Robb pulled away from her and fell onto his bed, burying his face in his hands. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Every time I think about it, I get these images in my head, of Bran mangled and broken." Kenna nodded meekly and sat, silently, beside Robb on his bed. "I don't mean to be so harsh, I just.."
"I know." She placed her on his and offered him a reassuring smile. Robb nodded, forcing a small smile of his own.
"Tell me something good," Robb said, his voice was hoarse from crying. "Anything. Anything at all."
She drew circles on his hand with her thumb. Something good... a memory from when she was younger came to mind, and it put a smile on her face. "Before I left for Winterfell, just a month or two before, I don't quite know how, but from one of our conversations Myrcella, who was only three at the time, got it in her head that I was planning to cook her for dinner. Being as lovely as she is, she even got one of the Kingsguard to get her a pot from the kitchens for me!"
A chuckle came from beside her, and Kenna was glad to see that he looked somewhat lighter. "Didn't she know that princesses never cook, or do anything but sit on their bums and gossip?"
"Excuse me, I do plenty!" Kenna exclaimed, smacking him on the arm but nonetheless letting a huge smile rest on her face. "And I don't gossip either! Anyway, it gets better."
"Oh, really?" Robb raised an amused eyebrow.
"Well, since Myrcella was convinced that she was going to die and had such a flair for dramatics," Kenna started again, smiling fondly at the memory, "she wrote three letters, or, well, she had her septa write them. Septa Eglantine indulged her too much – the woman adored her, and so three letters were delivered to me, Mother and Tommen, who couldn't even read but Myrcella said that she wanted something for him to remember her by."
"None for Joffrey?" he asked, and Kenna shook her head.
"Gods no. Joffrey became a little shit at age six, and he was seven at this point." Robb barked another laugh.
"And what did these letters say?" Robb inquired between laughs.
"Oh, they were much the same as every dying woman's last letters," Kenna quipped, waving her hand dismissively in the air. "She asked us to pray for her, and to remember how much she loved us and how much fun she had and was. And, of course, to keep Lord Balryn and Miss Higgles away from each other," she dropped her voice to a low whisper, "because they really don't get along."
Engulfed in a fit of laughter, Robb grabbed his belly and doubled over, smacking the bed in his hysteria as he did so. Kenna laughed too, not as much as Robb, and smiled at the sight in front of her.
"Lord Balryn?" Robb repeated, still laughed. "Where did she get that name from?"
"The dragon Balerion," Kenna answered, causing Robb to chuckle even more. "She was only three in all fairness, and it was impressive enough that she even remembered the name of a dragon."
Another small laugh escaped him before the room became quiet. Kenna held his hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze, all too aware of the thoughts that were probably plaguing him. He turned his head to look at her. In the past week she noticed that Robb looked at her differently to everyone else. Kenna quite liked the way he looked at her, like she was the most precious thing in the world, but she couldn't help but feel terribly guilty. She didn't deserve his love, not when she was so willing to leave him.
Robb pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, his eyes welling with tears again. "Thank you," he said quietly. Kenna could hear his voice break. She'd do anything to make him feel better, anything to stop him crying...
She edged slightly closer to him. Unsure, she glanced at his lips while chewing at her own. When her bravery waned, when she was about to back away, Robb made the first move and inched towards her, brushing his lips against hers. Kenna kissed him then. The kiss was gentle and soft. It was as if they had all the time in the world, like there was no rush.
Kenna could feel the wetness of Robb's tears on her face, and could only kiss him more in response. Things became faster, hotter, more urgent, demanding. Their kiss became less chaste and more wanton, and Kenna felt that familiar ache between her legs.
Desire took over. Robb pressed her body closer to his and Kenna hiked her nightgown up past her knees so she could straddle him. She ground herself against him, feeling his cock against her thigh and becoming surprisingly aroused by the sensation.
He wrapped the lace of her nightgown around his finger and peered up at her through his lashes, asking for her permission. She merely kissed him again and moaned into his mouth, and Robb took that as her approval and undid the knot tying the two laces together. With her help, Robb pulled her nightgown down so that it sat at her waist. Kenna was suddenly very self-conscious. Her breasts were bare to him, and Robb was looking at them with a distinct, lustful glaze in his eyes.
All insecurity vanished once Robb started pressing little kisses onto her neck and slowly moved down to her breasts, and was replaced by pleasure – complete and utter pleasure. Her fingers curled into his hair, his reddish brown locks, and tugged somewhat roughly. Robb only groaned in response.
She removed herself from their embrace abruptly, and didn't look away from Robb as she pushed her nightgown from her waist and onto the floor and stepped out of the pool of silk. She was stark naked now, completely vulnerable to him, and Kenna found that she didn't mind at all.
Robb stood up as well, still clothed entirely. She bit her lip and kissed him again while undoing his doublet. Once she had tossed his doublet to the opposite end of the room, Kenna took a moment to admire his beautifully toned torso. She was about to touch him, run her hands all around him, but then Robb grabbed her by the thighs and carried her to the bed, kissing her all the way.
It eventually became unbearable – the ache between her legs, the wetness, the moaning – and so Kenna impatiently reached for Robb's breaches. "Take me, Robb," she moaned as his lips captured hers again. "Have me – I'm yours."
Just as she was about to pull them down, a hand curled around her wrist. Her lips were cold – it had been many minutes since they were untouched, it almost made her feel lonely – and she glanced up at the figure on top of her in shock. Robb was wide-eyed as well, and looked to his hand on her wrist in shock. He released her hand quickly and stepped away from her, setting himself on the edge of the bed.
Kenna moved beside him and kissed his neck, trying to seduce him again. It didn't work, and Robb only jumped up off the bed and put a few feet between them. Kenna felt like some sort of disease – she was rejected, and hurt.
"I- we can't," Robb protested firmly, raking his fingers through his hair and huffing a heavy sigh. "I won't ruin you. If we are not to be wed, then your maidenhead is not mine to be had."
"My maidenhead is not anyone's to be had," Kenna replied, anger pulsing through her. Anger from rejection, anger from the unfairness of it all and mostly, anger from her maidenhead being described as something to be had. "My maidenhead is mine to give and I will choose who I give it too."
"So you will share my bed but you won't marry me?" Robb asked.
She was dumbfounded, grasping for words that could be used as a response. "We've talked about this, Robb. Its not my choice, its-"
"Its your duty, yes, I've heard it before," Robb said somewhat harshly. Kenna sent him a glare and picked up her nightgown from the floor and covered herself with it. "Is it not also your duty to keep your maidenhead in tact for your future husband? It seems to me that you're picking and choosing which part of your 'duty' you oblige to!"
With the rage her family was known for, Kenna quickly tied the laces of her nightgown and fixed Robb with a glare of complete and utter disdain. "You weren't preaching about modesty when you ripped open the laces of my nightgown," she threw back.
"And you weren't complaining when you started tugging at my breaches!" was Robb's retort.
A strangled cry of frustration escaped Kenna's lips as she threw on her robe and stormed out off Robb's chambers. What had originally been meant as a form of comfort had escalated into a heated row, and Kenna felt guilty for arguing with him and leaving him alone when his brother was nearing death.
Her stubbornness fought with the temptation to turn around and go back to Robb. Eventually, her resolve broke and another sigh escaped her. She knocked on his door softly, and was somewhat surprised when Robb opened the door to her.
"I'm sorry. Its such a trivial thing to fight about, considering..." Kenna trailed off, but Robb understood her nonetheless and nodded.
Robb chewed at his lower lip nervously, as though debating saying something. Kenna's brows furrowed and she smiled a smile that was mingled with confusion. "Will you stay with me tonight? I don't think... I don't think I could stand being alone."
A part of Kenna wanted to say no. To retort that what he requested of her would mar her honour, and since her duty was "to keep her maidenhead in tact" she couldn't bare the stain. But alas, she nodded her consent and smiled at him.
"Of course," she replied.
Kenna was awoken the next morning by heavy knocking. She opened her eyes drearily, not quite understanding why someone was pounding at the door. Her confused thoughts immediately considered an invasion – somehow, in her dazed condition, she made herself believe that Targaryens had come to take Winterfell. She eventually gathered herself and regained her senses, and realised that the voice calling for Robb on the other side of the door was Lord Stark.
Oh no. What would he think, if he found Kenna in bed with his son? Oh, she would surely be disgraced! Even if they were still to be wed, his opinion of her would be forever altered. Kenna patted Robb's chest, the patting quickly becoming rougher when he didn't stir.
"Robb! Robb, wake up!" she urged him in a whisper. "Oh for Goodness sake, Robb! Your father is at the door!"
"'ive more minutes," Robb grumbled. Kenna stared at him in bemusement. Has he gone simple? Suddenly, his eyes flew open and his head moved to look at Kenna, shocked at her presence. "Kenna? What are you doing here?" Kenna placed a finger on her lips and sternly hushed him. Robb started to panic. "Father's at the door – he can't see you in my bed! Out!"
Apparently, Robb was just as stupid as she was in the mornings – and grumpy too – because the only way, according to Robb, to keep Kenna out of his father's sight was to push her off the bed. Kenna landed on the floor with a loud THUMP.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, rubbing her head. "What in Seven Hells is wrong with you?!"
Robb winced. "Sorry!" he apologised, having gained enough to sense to realise what he did was wrong. "Get under the bed, just to be safe."
Kenna rolled her eyes, still sore from the pain pulsing through her body because of her fall, but complied and hid herself beneath Robb's bed as he went to open his door to his father. Lord Stark's footsteps were loud as he walked inside Robb's chambers.
"Did you have a good sleep, son?" Lord Stark asked.
"Yes, Father. Sorry about not answering the door sooner. I was sleeping like the dead," Robb jested, earning a small chuckle from his father.
"There's nothing to forgive. You've never had much trouble sleeping, no matter what happens. I envy that," Lord Stark responded sullenly. His tone became cheerier as he delivered the news he no doubt came to give. "There is good news from Maester Luwin."
"Has Bran woken?" Robb questioned hopefully.
"No," Lord Stark replied, "but his condition has not worsened. Luwin thinks that there's a good chance he might survive."
Her heart soared at the news. She would go to the Sept today and pray fervently to the Gods to protect him. The Gods, if they were as septons preached them to be, would surely spare an innocent child, and Bran's survival through the night was a sign that the Gods could indeed be kind.
"Hopefully he'll wake soon then," Robb said. "Has he not stirred at all?"
"Not yet, but if the Gods are good he will soon," Lord Stark commented. He waited a few seconds before speaking again. "Robb, what was that crash I heard before I came into the room?"
Kenna bit her lip nervously, her face scrunched together as she awaited Lord Stark's accusations. Robb was taking his time coming up with a response, surely Lord Stark could smell a lie. "A few books fell," Robb responded, his words said in a rush.
"You don't have any books in your room," Lord Stark said. Oh for goodness sake, Robb! What an idiot. "I won't pry any further. I know a young man has his secrets, I'll only ask you to try to behave honourably, Robb."
It took Robb a few minutes to reply. He was probably drowning in embarrassment, just as she was. "Always, Father."
Though she heard the door open and closing as Lord Stark probably made his exit, Kenna was paranoid and decided to stay under the bed, just in case he was trying to bait her out. Robb sat on his bed, the bed creaking in response and lowering because of the new weight. She could hear him sigh.
"You can come out now," Robb told her, and Kenna quickly obliged.
She dusted her nightgown off and untangled her hair before staring at Robb with her hands on her hips. "Honestly, Robb? Are you simple? Surely you must have noticed that there are no books in your room."
"Hey, I was under pressure!" Robb insisted, sighing heavily again to accentuate his frustration. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Its not as though you'd be able to formulate a perfect excuse if your father came into room while a boy hid under your bed!"
"No, perhaps not a perfect one," Kenna conceded thoughtfully, even though she knew such a thing would never happen because her father didn't care enough to come into her room. "But my excuse would surely be better than yours, and it would also be assisted by the fact that I actually have books in my room." Kenna glanced out the window. Light was glaring inside. Oh no. "Its past sunrise."
Robb's brows knitted together as he observed her as though she had two heads. "Judging by how high the sun is in the sky, its probably almost noon."
"Noon?" Kenna repeated. She felt as though her stomach had just plummeted to the ground. "I was supposed to break fast with my mother just after sunrise! Seven hells..."
"I'm sure she won't mind your absence for one morning," Robb said, a little too crisply for Kenna's liking. She knew he didn't have any fondness for her mother, but that didn't mean he could insult Cersei at any given chance.
In the length of time it would take for one to blink, Kenna had thrown on her robe and was at the door. She turned around at the last moment and grasped Robb's hand in a comforting gesture, offering him a smile. "I'll see you later?"
He only nodded, and forced a smile of his own. With one last smile directed at him Kenna took her leave and dashed out of the room, through the corridors of Winterfell and into her chambers, where Miya was tidying her clothes and books.
Miya's eyes widened as she heard the door burst open, shocked at the intrusion. Her gaze quickly turned from shocked to disapproving once she saw that it was Kenna, her eyes settling on her nightgown.
"Will I regret asking what happened?" Miya asked, pointedly glancing at Kenna's nightgown again.
"Nothing dishonourable, I assure you," Kenna responded hastily, and somewhat bitterly, knowing that Miya, like most, was thinking the worst. She didn't know what had gotten into her last night. Had the events of last night happened again, she wouldn't dare throw herself like that at Robb. Kenna tugged open the laces of her nightgown and allowed the fabric to fall to the floor. "Find me a dress, Miya. Quickly."
Understanding the urgency of the situation, Miya threw Kenna a corset and searched for a dress. Kenna tried as best as she could to put on her corset without assistance, but in the end Miya had to tie the laces and fix the hooks. As Kenna put on her dress in a hurry, Miya fixed her hair into a simple, northern hairstyle with the sides of her hair pulled back.
"Perfect," Kenna commented, assessing her appearance in the mirror and deeming it suitable. "Thank you, Miya."
The handmaiden barely had time to nod as her mistress raced out her room with the speed of a wolf. Kenna resisted the urge to run – she didn't want to embarrass herself – and settled with a speedy walk, which must have appeared strange as well because Kenna was receiving odd looks from both servants and noblemen alike.
She found her mother, Tommen and Myrcella walking out of Cersei's chambers. Kenna's heartbeat quickened. What would she tell her mother? She had never been able to lie to her mother, but if Kenna was to tell her mother the truth, would Cersei believe that her and Robb's encounter last night had been innocent?
The princess knew the answer to that. Of course she will not. Especially not when she has conjured such a damning image of Robb in her mind.
"Kenna," Cersei addressed as her eldest daughter approached her, looking rather dishevelled with her barely combed hair and her heavy breathing. She observed Kenna, disapproval evident in those cold green eyes of hers. "Where were you this morning? You were supposed to break your fast with your siblings and I."
"I apologise, Mother," Kenna responded, bowing her head in shame. She couldn't bare lying to her mother. It made her feel horrible, but disappointing her mother was a million times worse. "I slept in by accident, as did my handmaiden. Its quite odd, really, that we managed to both sleep in and miss breakfast on the same day."
Peering up at her mother through her lashes, Kenna saw Cersei shaking her head. "That will not do. This handmaiden of yours – she's northern, I expect?" Kenna braved looking up at her mother, and could only nod her response. Cersei's nose crinkled. "Naturally. Well, she will be delighted when you tell her she will not coming south with you."
"There's no need, Mother," Kenna said immediately, not wanting her handmaiden to lose her position because her lie. "Miya's a good handmaiden – this has never happened before, and I know for certain that it won't happen again."
Cersei rolled her eyes, a gesture that made Kenna cringe. She didn't want to annoy her mother. "Your handmaiden, and anyone else who has come into your service during your time in the North, will stay in the North. The only northerners coming south with us are those in Lord Stark's household, and that, frankly, is more than enough."
She opened her mouth to oppose her mother, but a quick glare from Cersei was enough to make her press her lips together and stay quiet.
"We leave in a few days," Cersei stated. Kenna's head turned to look, visibly shocked, at her mother. Surely Bran's fall would allow for a few extra days, so that Lord Stark and the girls could stay with him for a little longer. Seeing her daughter's shock, Cersei continued. "Robert is eager to plough on with his plans to make Ned Stark his Hand. You know your father, he has little consideration when it comes to other people's grievances."
Kenna stared at her mother, so beautiful and golden, for a few moments, feeling a strange, unfamiliar, bitter pang in her stomach. He is not the only one, Mother.
Tears formed in Kenna's eyes as she left the Great Hall for the last time, having just broken her fast for the last time in Winterfell's Keep. No. I will return. I must. She couldn't even manage to convince herself, how could she have ever hoped to convince Robb?
Her hand came to rest upon her stomach as she felt it plummeting to the floor. She had never enjoyed goodbyes – if anything, she hated them. All those years ago in King's Landing she wanted nothing more than to stay in the city as the horse pulled her away, and now... Kenna found she didn't care much for her childhood home. But what choice did she have?
Plenty. Well, not plenty, but some. She could have ran away that night and married Robb in the Sept or under a Heart Tree. She would have to stay with him then – no man, king or not, could separate another man from his lawfully wedded wife, but alas, Kenna couldn't bare disappointing her family, or disobeying them, and she would bare unhappiness if it meant that she could be a good daughter.
Lost in her thoughts, Kenna felt as though she was being pushed out of the Great Hall by some steady force – water, perhaps. Her illusion was suddenly dismantled as she felt a hand circle around her wrist and pull her backwards.
Alys was looking at her with a face of complete and utter seriousness – worry, even. The expression she wore was an utterly foreign one on her usually happy, joyful face. "I need to come south with you," she stated, eyes glaring with urgency.
"What?" Kenna mustered. This must be a joke. Alys is playing with me, getting me all worried like this. A smile came upon her lips. "Alys, are you messing with me?"
The smile fell as quickly as it had graced Kenna's lips. Alys was close to tears, and so she was definitely not jesting. "I wish I was. I cannot stay here, Kenna, and I cannot go to my father lest he..." She stopped herself, and inhaled a deep, shaky breath. "Something has happened, Kenna, and I don't know what to do. All I know is that if I stay here, I'll be ruined."
"You'll be ruined? Alys, you're making no sense. Speak plainly," Kenna requested. She dragged Alys into a secluded corner, where no one could hear them. She guessed that this was a private matter that required no prying ears.
"I'm with child," Alys admitted, all in one small breath.
To say she was surprised would be an understatement. Kenna's eyes immediately drifted towards her friend's stomach where, if her words were true, a child was growing. "How?" was all Kenna could manage.
"I thought he was going to stay," Alys explained tearfully, placing her hand on her stomach. Kenna knew immediately who she was talking about. "And so did he, but then you convinced me that he would never be truly happy and Lady Stark wanted Jon out of Winterfell..."
"Well, I didn't know you were pregnant!" Kenna exclaimed, gesturing at Alys' stomach with her hands.
"It doesn't make a difference," Alys replied quickly.
"Yes, Alys. It does. He deserves to know that you're having his child!"
"Stop looking at my belly like I'm carrying a bloody White Walker in there, Kenna – its a baby!" Alys cried in her frustration, her grip on her stomach becoming tighter and more protective. "And I can't tell him. You know how he is – he'd be so ashamed. He'd want to stay with me and the baby, his own happiness be damned."
"And he should," Kenna insisted. "You shouldn't have to deal with this burden on your own, Alys."
"But that's just the thing," she started, and Kenna's brows furrowed in confusion. "I don't want to be a burden to him. I don't want him to wake up in a few years time feeling inadequate and resenting me. I can find another way. I would like you to help me, but I understand if you don't."
Kenna let out a heavy sigh and raked a hand through her dark brown hair. "What would you have me do?"
"I don't know," Alys answered honestly with a hopeless shrug. "You're usually better at these things than me."
She quirked an eyebrow at that, wondering what Alys meant by 'these things.' Scheming, perhaps, which would be somewhat true, if only that Alys, being as frank and forthright as she was, couldn't scheme or act in manipulative ways to save her life.
But even though Kenna was, apparently, better at scheming, she couldn't conjure a plan. If she was to bring Alys to King's Landing with her, which was all Kenna would be able to do, her belly would eventually grow more pronounced and rounded and every nobleman in King's Landing would know the truth, and word would eventually get to the North, which Kenna was sure was the worst of Alys' fears.
Another idea came to mind, though she wasn't sure how possible it was. "I might have an idea," Kenna told her. Alys beamed at her, eyes wide and hopeful. "My uncle Renly is a kind man – well, he is from what I remember of him. He's also the Lord of Storm's End. I will write to him before we leave. He could hide you in his Keep until you give birth."
"And what then?" Alys questioned, her tone more horrified than relieved, and her grip on her stomach tightening further.
"Well," Kenna started, unsure. She had a good idea of what might happen, and was fully aware that Alys' reaction might not be all that pleased. The princess bit her lower lip. "You might have to give the baby to a- a servants' family, or a farmer's family."
As soon as the words left Kenna's mouth, Alys began shaking her head fervently. "No. No. I'm not giving up this baby. There has to be another way, where I can raise my own child!"
"Alys, the most likely outcome of your pregnancy is that you'll have to give your child to someone else," Kenna said, hating herself somewhat for voicing those harsh truths. But it has to be done. "Unless you want speculation and gossip surrounding you and the baby, the best way is to give birth to the child in secret and then entrust his care with another family." Alys stayed silent, her lips forming a thin, stern line. Seeing that Alys wasn't about to talk, Kenna continued. "You should write to your father. Tell him that you are coming south with me and make sure to ask for his forgiveness since you didn't ask for permission. You will stay with me until we reach King's Landing, then, if Renly is willing, he will bring you to Storm's End. Hopefully Renly will be willing to help. He is a kind man – he should be."
Alys was biting her lower lip. "And if he isn't?"
"Then we'll have to find some other way," Kenna replied. She knew that there were a million holes in her plan, and a million different ways for things to go wrong, but it was all she could come up with.
"Its not fair," Alys said quietly after a few moments of silence. As a form of comfort, Kenna rubbed her friend's arm. "I don't want to give the baby up. What if it thinks I didn't love it?"
"The baby will have a family who will love him or her, we'll make sure of it," Kenna promised, and gave Alys a reassuring smile. Alys did not return the smile, and did not even try to seem of good cheer. "Its for the best, Alys. For you and the child. You'll see."
"Will I?" Alys countered, her voice laced with bitterness. She set her eyes on the floor and refused to even look at Kenna.
In time, she'll agree that this is the only option, Kenna thought as guilt settled in her stomach. How could she possibly separate a child from its mother? She shouldn't have gotten with child. She should have been more careful. As soon as the thoughts passed through her head, Kenna knew that she was being hypocritical, for what had gotten Alys into this situation was what Kenna had wanted to happen between her and Robb that night. They were all slaves to desire, and Kenna was grateful to Robb for putting a stop to things before a child could form in Kenna's stomach. Then she would be truly ruined.
Cersei Lannister observed the servants and masters of Winterfell in the courtyard with a thinly veiled contempt, a sneer on her handsome features. Her husband was ecstatic, having gotten everything he wanted. He always gets what he wants, Cersei noted bitterly. As king, Robert's every whim and command was to be catered to. It angered her, that such an indulgent, undeserving man could hold so much power.
Ned Stark, who lacked everything needed to be the Hand of the King from his infallible honour to his non-existent wit, was still to be Robert's Hand despite his son's fall. No doubt Stark would have preferred to stay in Winterfell, even if his son hadn't fallen, considering his disinterest in everything south of the Neck. Stark didn't want to become Hand; it was only his sense of duty to his king that bound him to come to King's Landing. That would suit me just fine. Why could Robert not leave well enough alone?
The queen's emerald green eyes scanned the crowd for her eldest daughter, finding her only a mere few feet away from Cersei herself, speaking with Robb Stark. She tried her best to ignore the other voices, her youngest children being some of them, so that she could listen to Kenna's exchange with the Stark boy.
"Write to me, if you have time," the boy requested. He gazed at Kenna with such warmth, such love in his eyes that Cersei almost believed his feelings for her were true. Almost. Like all men, he was only interested in her for one reason. Robb Stark would use her sweet daughter up until she was dry. Until she was sad and lonely and without hope. Cersei couldn't bare to see that happen.
With an equal amount of warmth in those blue eyes of hers, Kenna held his hand in hers. "Of course I will. You will be tired of my letters come the year's end."
"I would never," Robb Stark swore, and the little fool that was her daughter beamed up at him.
Cersei was glad that she had stood strong against Robert. Had she simply stood back and let Kenna marry Stark, then her daughter would become a shell of who she was supposed to be. She would become weak, delicate, dependant on Stark. With Cersei's tutelage, Kenna would become a lioness. Cersei planned to carefully craft Kenna into her own creation, to erase any mark of the North from her. To free Kenna from her loyalties to the North, and bind her loyalties to their family, to Joffrey, as they were always supposed to be.
Stark pressed a light kiss on Kenna's forehead, their hands still clasped together. Cersei's stomach churned, her eyes set on Stark in a fierce glare. Kenna was embarrassing the family, by displaying her affections for Stark so openly. That will not do.
Reluctantly, as if it was his insides he was parting with, Robb let go of Kenna's hand and let her walk towards Cersei. Where she should be. Where she always should have been. Cersei greeted her daughter with a saccharine smile.
"Come now, Kenna. We are riding in the wheelhouse," Cersei said, noticing but not mentioning her daughter's melancholic mood. She will see that this is for the best eventually. "Your things have already been placed in there. I was surprised to see that your belongings are few."
"You told me to leave all my northern clothing here," Kenna replied, her tone dour as they walked to the wheelhouse.
"Ah, yes I did," Cersei remembered. There would be no need for such heavy clothing in the south, and dark colours didn't suit Kenna as well as bright ones.
As her back was faced towards the crowd of northerners and southerners alike, Cersei didn't see the charming young creature as she approached her and her daughter. The girl seemed shocked to see Cersei, which caused the queen to scowl at the child. She was a northerner to boot, with her long face and her black hair and her grey eyes.
"Oh, Your Grace!" the girl exclaimed, eyes wide. The little chit didn't even remember to curtsy, and it took a stern look from Kenna to remind her to do so. "My apologies. Kenna, I was just wondering-"
"Kenna?" Cersei repeated, still scowling at the girl. Perhaps it was the resemblance to Lyanna Stark that made her hate the girl so, but Cersei felt an immeasurable amount of rage bubble in her stomach as she glared at this ill-bred child. "Who are you to address the princess so informally?"
"Alys Karstark... Your Grace," the girl added at Kenna's urging.
"Karstark... a northern house, of course. And what is your relationship to my daughter?" Cersei questioned, emerald eyes narrowed viciously.
The girl stammered. "I'm her, well..."
"Alys is my companion, Mother," Kenna answered for her. Cersei fixed her scowl on her daughter. How dare she intercede? The queen would teach her some manners upon their return to King's Landing. Though Kenna flinched at Cersei's scowl, the wilful child continued. "And my close friend. I am bringing her south with me, to serve as one of my ladies."
Cersei was indignant. Disobedience... that was all the North had taught Kenna. "Did I not tell you to leave behind all northerners in your service?" Kenna knew better than to respond. There was no use when Cersei was in such a mood. "You are a princess, Kenna. Your ladies should be southerners. This disrespect will not do."
"I do not mean to show disrespect," Kenna said, her head bowed demurely and her eyes set on the ground. Good, at least she still knows her place. "The last thing I want is to displease you, Mother. Its only that Alys is such a close friend of mine, that I could not bare to leave her behind, but I swear to be loyal to you in all other matters, if only you let Alys accompany me south."
Her rage quelled somewhat. At last, Kenna was once again speaking like a southerner, with pretty words and an elegant accent. Perhaps making her daughter hers again would be much easier than she thought.
"I will allow this one disobedience," Cersei conceded, her voice as cold as stone but still receiving a smile from her daughter. "But I will not accept such rebellion from you again, Kenna. Do you understand?"
Still smiling, Kenna nodded. "Of course, Mother."
The queen gave Kenna one last nod and the Karstark girl one last glare before leaving the girls to discuss whatever Alys Karstark had approached Kenna to discuss. She was pleased, to say the least, despite her daughter's rare show of disobedience. Kenna was coming home. She had won. Against Robert, against Jon Arryn, against the Starks... she had won.
As the wheelhouse rocked and the royal retinue left Winterfell and Kenna gazed longingly, sadly, out of the window at Robb Stark with Alys Karstark by her side, Cersei still smiled.
I have won.
Author's Note: This chapter took quite some time to write. I know a lot of you wanted her to stay, and I'll admit that I did too, but I've always wanted Kenna to be more than a relationship, more than a pairing, and I was afraid that leaving her at Winterfell would diminish her character into just a love interest. I think she can definitely grow more as a character in King's Landing than she could in Winterfell.
Also, I just want to tell you guys that it might be some time before Robb and Kenna get together. There will be relationships for both of them before hand, mostly arranged. I promise I'll be respectful to you, my readers, because I know that some of you probably clicked on the story for the pairing, and I did put Robb/OC as the pairing and I promise to deliver. I just think that this is the best way to tell the story, to establish them both as strong characters before their relationship is cemented. That doesn't mean that there won't be little bits here and there – their relationship will play a major part – it just means that they won't be properly together for a while.
Apologies for the long author's note. I just wanted to clear a few things up. Tell me what you think and any queries you might have!