King's Landing

Boudicca Baratheon

Boudicca hurriedly made her way to the chambers were the Small Council was gathered. It was unusual for her father to call her down. She stepped into the room and there at the long table sat the entire Small Council with the exception of her Uncle Stannis, as her eyes trailed towards the empty chair where he usually sat. She raised her brows in surprise, it was also unusual to see her father sitting there as he rarely attended meetings or gatherings according to her to her uncle's.

It must be important, Boudicca thought. Her green eyes were trained on her father but she briefly looked to Eddard Stark and saw a look of anger on his face and by the look of it, she had missed a heated argument. Her brows furrowed when she noted the cane that Lord Stark was carrying, raising a brow to it before she turned to look at Ser Barristan, who also held a dark look on his face. Her eyes trailed back to her father and she bowed low before stepping forward, catching a glimpse of the map on the table as she did so. Westeros and Essos.

"You summoned me, father?"

"Yes, daughter!" Her father spits, throwing a glare towards Lord Stark and nodded to him. "I want you to talk some sense into this honourable fool!"

"It depends on what this is all about…" Boudicca trailed off, straightening her back as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"The Targaryen whore is pregnant," Robert sneers.

"And?" Boudicca inquires, stressing out the word. "If Daenerys Targaryen is pregnant, like you say. Why not leave her be?"

"We must do something about her!" Robert thunders, slamming his hand down on the table before he turned to Lord Stark. "I warned you, I warned you that this would happen. You wouldn't hear it. Well, hear it now. I want them dead. I want the mother dead. I want the child dead. I want that fool, Viserys dead as well. I want the three of them dead!"

"And how do you intend to do that," She questions, though she already knew the answer. Assassins, Boudicca thought. Like Arya said.

"Your father intends to send an assassin to kill the girl," Lord Stark cut it, his eyes narrowing at her father. "I have been trying to convince him not go through with it but Ser Barristan and I are alone on this matter. Please, Princess, talk some sense into him.".

"You're an arse," Boudicca said to her father simply. "It's a cruel idea."

As she looked around the table, everyone was in a stunned silence. Lord Baelish and Varys, Grand Maester Pycelle looked to her in disbelief. Her uncle, however, looked amused and was laughing silently behind his hand that he was biting into. Lord Eddard looked surprised by her bluntness, his eyebrows raised. At first, she was hesitant and wanted to agree with her father but she knew it was the right decision she should stick with when she saw Selmy give her an approving nod. Though she also braced herself when she saw her father's eyes narrow at her.

"Of all the people…" Robert trailed off, muttering something incoherent under his breath before he sighed and looked to her. "You have lost your sense, girl. We need to be rid of the Targaryen's. All of the dragon spawn scum. If not, they will worm their way back to Westeros and take the throne from me. Targaryen's. I may have cut one dragon head off but two still remain."

"We should have had Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen killed years ago," Uncle Renly interjected but she scoffed.

"I think…I think there has been too much blood spilt in Westeros," Boudicca replied solemnly but she looked at her father in disbelief. "To kill an unborn babe and a child just because they share the same blood as the Mad King. That is no reason to kill innocence. Viserys and Daenerys reside across the Narrow Sea, they have so for over ten and six years. If they had any desire to come back and rebel, they would have done so. If Viserys was wise, he would have managed to gain an army and boats years ago. Or they would have sought refuge with House Martell or Tyrell. Let them live. Leave them be. To kill a child that is pregnant…then you are not the man I know of. I will have no respect for you."

"You will dishonour yourself if you do this," Lord Stark warned, his voice wavering from anger.

"Honour?" Her father roared, standing abruptly from his seat, knocking it over. His wine goblet clattered on the table and rolled onto the floor, spilling the red liquid. "I have Seven Kingdoms to rule! One King, Seven Kingdoms! Do you think that it is honour and justice that keeps the peace? No, it is fear, fear and blood!"

"You sound like the Mad King," Lord Stark responded sharply.

"Careful, Ned!" Robert hissed. "Careful."

"You are no better than a Targaryen," Boudicca snarled furiously. "Are we Baratheon's? Or are we Targaryen's? They once thought they could rule through fear and blood after they lost their dragon fire. And look where that has brought them, father, in the end, look where that has got them. They are exiled and near extinction. If you are looking for an enemy to fight, perhaps you should look closer to home."

I made my move, Boudicca thought as she saw the flicker of fear appear on Renly's face and the panic behind his blue eyes. She knew then that Arya's claims that these mysterious men made were true, causing her anger to flare. Nevertheless, she was glad that she managed to catch him out, allowing her to be one step ahead of him. I have you now. Your move.

"I understand your discomfort, my Princess. I really do," Lord Varys spoke up and she turned to him. "You must understand that sometimes we must do vile things for the good of the realm. Should the gods grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm will surely bleed."

"And what if I have a child?" Boudicca challenged, placing a hand on her stomach as she looked to her father. "What if I have a son?"

"That is not the same thing-" Robert began but she interrupted him.

"It is exactly the same," Boudicca argued. "What if I birthed a son? What if I decided that I wanted to give him the throne, what then? I could rally up enough men to overthrow you and Joffrey. After all, my son would have some claim to the Iron Throne. Would the realms still bleed the same? Tell me. I desire to know if they would."

"I bear the girl no ill will but what if the Dothraki invade, what if they reach Westeros? How many innocents will die?" Pycelle asked slowly, leaning forward in his seat. "Is it not wiser, kinder even that the girl and the babe die now so that millions may live?"

"You see, Princess…when you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman," Littlefinger began, causing her to roll her eyes. "Is it not best to closer your eyes and get it over with. And after it is down, cut her throat and be done with it."

"What if you anger her husband, Khal Drogo?" Boudicca taunted, taking a step closer. "The man has no reason nor desire to come here. If you were to murder the Targaryen girl along with his son, he will have nothing left to lose. He may very well obtain ships and sail here to avenge both his wife and child. And what if the assassin you send fails? You will have a very angered and slighted Khal at his vengeful and living Khaleesi's side. If the tables were turned and they sent an assassin to kill my siblings, mother or even you, I would hunt them to the ends of the earth."

"I...I had not considered that" Robert said tiredly, slumping in his chair as he looked to her. "What do we do then?" Robert demanded, slamming a fist on the table, causing it to shake. "Do nothing until the enemy is knocking on her door? Do nothing until the Targaryen's have overthrown me with their army of savages?"

"I think patience is your best tactic, my King," Boudicca said, shaking her head as she let her eyes and finger trail across the map of Essos where Vaes Dothrak was situated. "I suggest you leave Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen alone, for the time being, have them observed and find out what they plan to do and then let them make the first move. I find that the better player lets their opponent move their pawn first, the first to make a move tends to make the first mistake."

"And what if they decide to invade, what then?" Robert asked gruffly.

"Viserys Targaryen may have gifted them his sister as a bride but I doubt they will give him an army in return. 'His' army belongs to the Khal and the Targaryen girl if he so desires it. They are known as Dothraki Screamers. They will need ships if they want to get across the Narrow Sea. They will need at least five hundred ships for their men alone, not including the ships for their horse. They won't have one without the other. The Dothraki cannot live without their stallions or mares," Boudicca stated, trailing her finger across the Vaes Dothrak to King's Landing and as she spoke of strategy, it felt natural. "That would take them up to at least nine hundred or so ships, filled with tens of thousands of sea sick and weakened Dothraki. I doubt any of the Free Cities will be willing to hand over precious resources to help a beggar King and his lost cause. We have six hundred warships, if they do set sail for King's Landing, we will storm their ships and will send the bastards that dared to wage war against us to their watery graves."

"The Narrow Sea lies between us, Robert," Lord Stark told him. "I will fear the day the Dothraki teach their horses to ride on the poisoned water."

Boudicca looked up from the map to the council and was once again met with a tense silence after Lord Stark had spoken. Her father gave up letting out a gruff grunt as he slammed his fist once again on the table, this time, it caused the wine pitcher to spill. He rose to his feet, his narrowed and seething eyes meeting her own and pointed his large finger towards her.

"You talk a good talk, daughter. We will do it your way," Her father informed her. "And we will leave them be, for now. Be warned girl, if they do come to Westeros and if there is a war, it will be on your shoulders. And yours alone. I will have you thrown onto one of the warships and you will be leading us against the savages."

"So be it," Boudicca replied, sealing her fate and with that, she bowed and walked away with a heavy heart.

Eddard Stark

It has been a few good hours since the Eddard had left the Small Council chambers and he was in deep thought, he was in shock had unfolded. In truth, when Robert called his daughter to the council to hear her opinion, the last thing he expected was for Boudicca to side with him and Ser Barristan but it was also the fact that Robert trusted her guidance. The way she spoke at the Council showed a side that he had not seen before from the girl, aside from her obvious passion for strategy. He knew the girl was fierce but he never knew for her to be a calculating individual with a thirst for it. A little further ahead of him, he saw said girl leaning over a balcony, looking out over Blackwater Bay. The sky was purple and the waves were calm, a soft breeze drifted into the marble hallway.

"Boudicca," He addressed.

This appeared to snap the girl out of her entranced state, it seemed something had a hold on her as she turned her head towards him, looking over her shoulder. His grey eyes met her green eyes that held hesitance and confliction. Ned made his towards her, the only sound heard was his boots against the ground along with his walking stick as he stood at her side. They both turned to overlook Blackwater Bay, remaining silent. After a few moments of silence, she let out a long sigh.

"Lord Stark," Boudicca said.

"I want to thank you for helping your father see reason-" Ned began but she raised a hand to stop him.

"He will wait, but for how long?" Boudicca asked grimly. "The sands of time continue, and I do not know how long Daenerys and Viserys have left before he strikes. He is not a patient man, my father. He thirsts for war, for blood, for power. And he thirsts for the extinction of House Targaryen and all those oppose him but little does he know that those who do oppose him, he calls 'adviser'."

"You seemed to put a great deal of thought into it," Eddard says.

"It is the truth," She said simply, "He asked for my counsel and I gave him my counsel."

"Has he called you to a council meeting before?" Ned asked curiously, resting his hand on the railing.

"I have been called to a meeting many a time," Boudicca admits. "Although my father may do and say foolish things, he is not an idiot. My father knows that he cannot trust any of them. I don't like this shite covered boots like they do. He tried to bring Joffrey into the meetings once or twice in an attempt to get him to learn about the ways of ruling but he hardly paid attention. He also brought Tommen last summer but my sweet brother cried to the point where he turned purple, I had to take him away from the meeting. As for Myrcella, Myrcella is not interested in politics. I think father is involving me so that I can one day serve my brother better when he becomes King…my father…my father is not long for this world."

Ned held an admiration for the girl but he also pitied her. He thought back to his sister, Lyanna and how she questioned 'why she wasn't born a boy?', and he wondered if the Princess thought the same thing as his sister once did. Had she been born a boy, she would have become King. As of late, the idea of Prince Joffrey sitting upon the Iron Throne brought a shiver of fear down his spine but then again the boy was still young, insolent and learning and he knew more than most that time can change people, Robert was a prime example of that. Although time may change people for the better, it could be also for the worst when he thought back to the madness in the boy's green eyes.

"Thank you, Boudicca," He said sincerely and that is when she turned to look at him, he noticed then in this light she had a flicker of blue in her green eyes.

"I defended you," She said fiercely before turning her back to him. "I hope that we do not have a Dothraki horde knocking at our door, Lord Stark. If we do, I won't be going to face them alone. I will be taking you with me on that warship my father will throw me on to, willingly or not. Tell me, Lord Stark…what do you think of my brother, Joffrey?"

"He is a boy," Ned said hesitantly, minding himself to be careful. After all, he was her brother. "He was born to be King."

"A King is not born, Lord Stark," Boudicca sighed. "A King is made. A King is forged. He is neither."

"I understand," He told her. "But I am sure he will learn."

"On your head be it," Boudicca said, bidding him a goodbye.

Eddard nodded and continued on his way, limping down the hallway and headed towards his chambers where his daughters would. He wanted to talk more about Arya's 'adventures', the more he heard, the more he did not like. Ned knew tension was growing between his family and the Lannister's, especially after his wife had taken Lord Tyrion to the Eyrie. He wanted his daughters safe at home, safe at Winterfell and not in a land filled with snakes.

"Father!" Arya exclaimed as he stepped into the room. "Thank the Gods, she keeps talking about her stupid wedding!"

"You must pack your things," Ned told his daughters. "I am sending you both back home when the Princess leaves."

"What?" Sansa cried, her eyes filling with tears as she stood up. "No! I will not leave my Prince!"

"Are you dying?" Arya inquired. "Is it because of your leg? Is it because of what I said? Is that why you're sending us home?"

"Arya, listen-" Ned began but was interrupted.

"Father!" Sansa wailed. "I don't want to leave. Please, don't!"

"I must," He said solemnly and looked on stiffly at Sansa as she began to cry, wailing about how much she wanted her Prince. His eyes flickered to her hip and he raised a brow. A horn? It was made of ivory, he could see that but it had been blackened and around both rims had a ring of gold, that glinted under the light. He looked to the engravings on the horn, he saw twirls and patterns but it had small stags engravings on it. "Sansa, where did you get that?"

"This-" Sansa sniffed, wiping away her tears as she held out the horn to show him. "It was Boudicca's. She gave it to me."

His daughters had taken a shine to Boudicca in their own way. Sansa, for Boudicca, listens to her. And he could see the kindness present in the dark haired girl's eyes when she listened to Sansa's stories and she even told his daughter some of her own. While with Arya, Arya was the first to become fond of the dark haired girl, she once told Arya what it was like to not look or act like the rest of her siblings and that is what sold his youngest. Along with the sword of riding horseback, Eddard thought.

"I know the Princess leaves for Winterfell but why can't I stay? I haven't done anything wrong! " Sansa pleaded before she directed her angered and upset outburst towards Arya, pointing at her. "It is Arya who keeps getting into trouble! Why must I be punished because of her?"

"I have been good!" Arya argued.

"You aren't being punished," He sighed. "I want you back at Winterfell. It is for your own safety."

"Do you think Boudicca will allow Syrio to come back with us?" Arya asked. "I am finally getting good and she promised to duel with me!"

"No one cares about your stupid dancing teacher! You can go, I can't go! I am supposed to marry Prince Joffrey. I love him and I am to marry him and be his queen and have his babies!" Sansa shouted, tears sliding down her cheeks. "He will be the greatest King that has ever ruled. A golden lion. I will give him sons and daughters with beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes!"

"I wish you wouldn't," Arya scowled, practically spitting out the words as she rose from the bed. "The lion is not his sigil, it is his mother's, you idiot. He is a stag, like his father and siblings. I can't imagine you giving birth to golden haired stags."

"You leave for Winterfell at sunrise," Ned informed them firmly. The sooner they leave, the better. "I want you to get your Septa and star packing your belongings."

"Please!" Sansa begged as Arya gripped her sister's wrist, tugging her towards the door.

"Get over yourself!" Arya retorted.

By the Gods, Eddard thought looking at his daughters retreating figures in shock. The wisest words come out the mouths of babes, Grand Maester Pycelle's words echoed in his mind. As soon as the door closed behind his daughters after he bid them a good night, he immediately turned to his desk and rushed over, despite the aching pain that shot up his leg every time he moved and picked up the large book that Jon Arryn had been reading shortly before his death. He sat at his desk and opened the book. The History and Lineages of the Great Houses of Westeros. He came to the page that bore the black stag of House Baratheon and began to read urgently, muttering under his breath.

"Orys Baratheon, black of hair. Axel Baratheon, black of hair. Lyonel Baratheon, black of hair," Ned murmured. "Steffon Baratheon, black of hair. Robert Baratheon, black of hair. Joffrey Baratheon…golden haired…"

He looked over the words frantically and out of all the Baratheon's, none but three stood out. The first was Lord Gowen Baratheon who had married Tya Lannister, seventy or so years ago. And upon reading further, he found out that they had a single child together, the boy was documented to have black hair and green eyes but the boy had died shortly after he was born. Ned read on and found that also, thirty years before the union between Gowen and Tya that the Lord of Casterly Rock took a daughter of the Lord of Storms End as a wife. They had three children a daughter and a son. All who possessed black hair and blue eyes. He hesitantly turned the page and eyed it with a sickening revelation.

"Boudicca Baratheon," He read aloud. "…black of hair…green of eye…"

By the Gods, he repeated once again as everything came to light. The death of Jon Arryn. His son's fall and Robert's bastards. All the pieces of the game had been placed and Ned finally knew the secret that would bring House Lannister to its knees. The truth was represented by a mere girl. Boudicca is either their saviour or their demise. He cursed the Gods, closing the book over before he sank into his seat and placed his face into his hands.

I must tell her the truth, Ned thought. She is the rightful and only heir to the Iron Throne.