Chapter 10

Rebekah POV, Winterfell

Rebekah had decided against going to bed, one night without sleep wouldn't hurt her. She was in her office looking at a map of the Riverlands, trying to decide that if Tywin Lannister did attack the Riverlands how he would do it. Tywin Lannister was known throughout Westeros for his ruthlessness, more than likely he'd have all the towns and villages put to the sword as well as burn their crops, which would be very bad. The Riverlands held the second most fertile lands in Westeros and fed thousands if nor millions of people. However despite their fertile lands they had no natural defences, and once the Lannister army passed the Golden Tooth they would be able to attack virtually anywhere in the Riverlands. Unless her father ordered it the Northern lords wouldn't march south, especially as very few of them would want to get involved in a 'southerners' war. There probably wouldn't be much support from the Vale either as her aunt was about as reliable as a pile of shit, while the so called knights of the Vale, who loved to preach honour and duty, but were in her opinion nothing but a bunch of prideful farts.

There were only three castles in the Riverlands that could withstand a siege or storm from the Lannisters. Riverrun, Harrenhal and the Twins. Both Riverrun and the Twins would have more than strong enough garrisons to defend them, Harrenhal on the other hand didn't. Lady Went only had about a dozen knights and a few hundred men at arms, not enough to hold a castle as large as Harrenhal. Her uncle would have to send a garrison there to hold it; Harrenhal's strategic position was invaluable.

There was also the matter of the Riverlords, how many would actually stand up to the Lannisters. The Riverlords were anything but united and more than a few, the Freys in particular, would have no problem betraying her grandfather if it benefited them. Her mother's family could count on the Mallisters, Blackwoods, Pipers and Vances, the other Riverlords couldn't be trusted. There was also the matter of who would lead the Riverlords, her grandfather was on his death bed and wasn't long for this world while her uncle Edmure was a whoring fool and definitely no strategist. The Blackfish, she realized as Rebekah felt a smile come onto her face. If anyone could defend the Riverlands it was him. She'd only met her great uncle once but that didn't change the fact that he was probably one of the greatest strategists in Westeros and hopefully a rival for Tywin Lannister. Getting a quill and some parchment she wrote three messages, one to the Blackfish at the Bloody Gate, another to her uncle in Riverrun and another to her father in King's Landing.

As Rebekah walked to where the ravens were kept her thoughts drifted to her mother. By the old gods she felt like strangling the women. What had possessed her to kidnap Tyrion Lannister? Not only did such a thing all but guarantee a war with the Westerlands but it also put father and Sansa in danger. When she found the person who was trying to start this war Rebekah was going to show them a fate worse than death. Maybe she would feed them to Freya, she thought with a small smile, or maybe she'd give them to the Boltons so they can experience true suffering.

Tying the messages to the ravens she watched, pondering as they flew away. When it came to war you either win big or lose hard, there was no middle ground. "I need to hunt." She muttered to herself, she was absolutely starving. Leaving the room she walked into the courtyard of Winterfell and began walking through Wintertown. Under her advice her father had begun expanding the town to fit a higher population, and to raise more revenues for Winterfell, but it was in no way massive or that impressive, but still there was a large amount of land and if her family had the money it would be easy to turn it into an actual thriving city.

A few women had been found dead in the town and obviously violated and she had made it her mission to find and kill the bastard. She had been sure to dress in revealing clothes in order to purposely attract attention to herself. Rebekah faintly heard footsteps creeping towards her. "Hey girlie." A leering voice said to her. "What are you doing out here?" She could practically smell the bastard's arousal, she would enjoy killing him. Normally when she found a criminal she either sent them to the Wall, or used them to create a sired vampire. Rapers however, she showed no mercy, she just killed them painfully.

"I-I I'm lo- lost." She said purposely stuttering, while keeping her head down to prevent the raper from recognizing her. "I don't know where I am."

"Why don't you come over here girl?" The man said, licking his lips while looking at her body. "I'll keep you safe." The man said as he began walking towards her. When he was close enough she grabbed him by the shoulders and sank her fangs into his neck and began drinking before he could even scream. There was nothing quite like the taste of blood, it literally felt like you were drinking life. It was euphoric.

When she was younger she had feared that if she went to long without blood she would die, something she was very worried about as a toddler as Rebekah couldn't exactly get access to blood at that age. But she had learnt that she didn't require blood to survive, hell it didn't even make her abilities stronger or even make her heel faster, she just simply drank blood to sate her blood lust.

Looking at the body of the raper in disgust she spat on it. Looking at the wound she left on his neck, she couldn't help but frown in annoyance. It was unlikely to be passed off as an animal so she would have to dispose of the body. Dragging the body by the leg she dragged it into one of the hidden passages in Winterfell where she then proceeded to burn the body.

-TVQ-

Ned Stark POV, King's Landing

His leg was killing him. Curse the kingslayer, curse him to the deepest of the seven hells. Not a day went by where he didn't wish he was back in Winterfell and out of this vipers nest. He wasn't made for politics, all this money grubbing and arse licking was a bit more then he could handle. The fact Robert didn't care about ruling also didn't help. How the hell did he end up six million gold dragons in debt. He was beginning to wonder if he made the right choice agreeing with Jon Arryn and making Robert king. Robert was a good man but even back then he'd shown that he didn't possess the right mentality of lordship let alone kingship.

"Lord Hand." Turning he saw Grand Maester Pycelle walk up to him, limping slightly.

"Grand Maester." He said keeping the pain out of his voice.

"There was a raven from Winterfell, from your daughter Rebekah." He handed Ned the scroll with the seal broken, something the maester wasn't permitted to do but in this city it honestly didn't surprise him. "I wasn't able to understand all of it however." Pycelle said looking at him curiously. He bit back the retort that the man wasn't meant to read it in the first place. Reading through it he saw that the letter contained nothing particularly important until he saw what Pycelle meant. Half the letter was written in the old tongue of the First Men and clearly Pycelle didn't recognize it. Despite the fact that the old tongue was all but forgotten his family had made sure to never forget it and all members of his house were taught it at a young age.

"My daughter was clearly deep into her drinks as she wrote this Grand Maester." He told the old man, hoping he'd buy the excuse and Ned was pleased when he saw Pycelle nod and then slowly walk away. With that he began walking to his office in the tower of the Hand as fast as his wounded leg would take him. As he reached his office and sat down at his desk he let out a sigh of relief. It had been so long since he'd been wounded in combat that he'd actually forgotten what pain had felt like.

As he read over his daughter's letter he honestly didn't know what to think. Letting over 5,000 wildlings to settle into the lands of Moat Cailin, betrothing Bran to Lord Manderly's granddaughter Wylla, and how Cat had kidnapped Tyrion Lannister, which he already knew, though Ned didn't know how his daughter knew that last part. Letting wildlings into their lands risked rebellion from their bannermen, though since Rebekah betrothed Bran to Wylla Manderly she was clearly working on appeasing the lords. He was also glad that Jon wouldn't be joining the Night's Watch, the lad deserved better than spending his life with cutthroats and rapers and only a handful of honourable men. He had made a mistake with Jon, yes he grew up safe but not necessarily happy and despite his and Rebekah's best efforts Jon was always seen as an outsider in Winterfell. More than once he felt he should have told Cat the truth when he presented Jon to her at Riverrun all those years ago, but he just couldn't. He hadn't trusted Cat not to tell Hoster Tully the truth about the boy and he hadn't trusted Hoster not to tell Robert about the boy especially since the man, whose family had served the Targaryen's faithfully for centuries, betrayed them just to increase his families own standing and power in the 'great game' these southerners loved to play.

King's Landing had become very dangerous and he needed to get Sansa out of here and back into the North. He didn't care that he'd be upsetting both Sansa and Robert, his daughter's safety was more important than her desire to be queen. Summoning his daughter to his office he didn't waste any time telling her why she was there. "I'm sending you back to Winterfell." He told her, rather foolishly hoping that she would accept it.

"What?" His daughter yelled outraged.

"Lister-" He began but Sansa interrupted him.

"What about Joffrey?" Sansa protested. "Please father, please don't." She pleaded with tears in her eyes.

"This isn't a punishment." Ned told his daughter, though the look on her face showed Ned she didn't believe him. "It's for your own safety."

"I can't go, I'm to marry prince Joffrey. I love him and I'm meant to be his queen and have his babies." Sansa protested and not for the first time he cursed that stupid septa in his head. That dreadful women had made Sansa truly believe that a women's only role in life was to pop out babies and she also made Sansa believe in those stupid songs of golden knights and maidens that didn't exist in the real world. At least Rebekah and Arya didn't believe the same nonsense, he thought relieved.

"When you're old enough." He began slowly "I'll make you a match with someone whose worthy of you." He said trying to appease his daughter, though he knew it wouldn't. Sansa like most girls dreamed of becoming queen and he was about to take away all chance of that happening. "Someone who's brave and gentle and strong."

"I don't want someone who's brave and gentle and strong." Sansa yelled. "I want him. He'll be the greatest king there ever was, a golden lion and I'll give him sons with beautiful blond hair." Immediately realization fell upon him. Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella were all blond while Robert, Renly and Stannis as well as their father Steffon all had black hair.

"Go to your septa and start packing your things." He told her, as he began walking over to his desk while Sansa left in a huff. 'The lineages and histories of the great houses of Westeros' the book Jon Arryn had been reading before he died. As the youngest of the great houses, the Baratheons were located at the back of the book.

Lord Orys Baratheon, black of hair.

Axel Baratheon, black of hair.

Lyonel Baratheon, black of hair.

Steffon Baratheon, black of hair.

Robert Baratheon, black of hair.

Joffrey Baratheon, golden head.

That wasn't possible, Ned though in shock, every Baratheon was black of hair except Joffrey and his siblings. Out of the mouth of a child, Ned thought as he gave a small bitter laugh. There'd even been several cases of Lannisters and Baratheons marrying in the past, yet the Baratheon blood had always won out. Hang on, he thought, Stannis had a daughter and he turned the page hoping that his thoughts would be proven wrong.

Shireen Baratheon, black of hair. Seven hells, he thought. None of Robert's children were his, but the question was who was their father?

-TVQ-

Brynden Tully POV, The Bloody Gate.

Brynden Tully, commonly known as the Blackfish, had been the keeper of the Bloody Gate for nearly seventeen years now and he didn't regret it. Oh his brother Hoster never stopped badgering him about it, but he was much happier here then he would have been married and as a lord of some insignificant holdfast in the Riverlands. However while he was here house Tully had gone to hell. Hoster was on his deathbed and so running of the Riverlands had fallen to his damn fool of a nephew and his niece Lysa, wow that had been a shock. He'd heard rumours that her time in Kings Landing had changed her and that it had perhaps even left her a bit mentally unstable but hearing was one thing, seeing was another. He honestly didn't recognize the once sweet girl she used to be and now she was bitter, paranoid, a little deranged and had, in his opinion, a rather unhealthy relationship with her son.

Robert Arryn was eight years old for fucks sake and she was still breast feeding the boy. The lords of the Vale would never follow the boy unless he grew a bloody spine, and by some miracle was cured of his shaking illness. The fact that most Vale lords had more respect for that fool Harrold Hardyng, who was the bloody Arryn equivalent of Robert Baratheon, didn't help matters as his niece was all but calling her bannermen traitors for believing the Robert Arryn would soon die and therefore they should follow Hardyng instead. Though he'd never admit it he thought the same as the Vale lords as it was in his opinion a miracle that Robert Arryn had actually lived so long.

"Ser Brynden." Turning around from his view of the path leading to the Bloody Gate he saw maester Coleman there.

"Maester." He greeted in his usual gruff voice.

"A raven from Winterfell." Coleman told him. Cat was his first thought. But as he broke the Stark seal and he noticed the signature at the bottom wasn't Cats but his great niece's Rebekah. He first met his great niece while she was visiting Riverrun three years ago and she had genuinely impressed him and he knew Lord Stark had made the right choice naming his daughter, instead of one of his sons, as the heir. Oh Cat what have you done, he thought in shock and even a little bit of horror as he read over what Rebekah had sent him and her fears of a war between the Riverlands and the Westerlands. He'd fought alongside Tywin during the War of the Ninepenny Kings and he knew the man well enough to know that the man wouldn't take his son's kidnapping lightly, no matter how much Tywin hated his dwarf son. Crumpling the letter he made a mental note to burn it as his mind drifted to the Riverlands.

While Edmure wasn't necessarily a bad strategist he was no match for Tywin Lannister and while the Riverlands could amass a large host between 35-40,000 men it wasn't enough to repel the Lannister who were believed to be able to amass up to 60,000 men and that wasn't including the countless sellswords Lannister gold could buy.

Family, Duty, Honour. Those were his families' words. As a Tully he had a duty to the Riverlands and his honour wouldn't allow him to stand by as Tywin massacred the innocents of the Riverlands, and also family, Tywin show no mercy so his brother and nephew. In barely a minute Brynden had made his decision, he would go to Riverrun and do all he could to stop those bloody Lannisters, or die trying.

-TVQ-

Rebekah POV, Ironwrath

Though Ironwrath was small it was rather impressive. "Lord Forrester." She greeted as she was lead to the great hall in Ironwrath.

"Lady Stark." Gregor Forrester said with respect. "I hope you travelled well."

"Well enough Lord Forrester. How are your children?" She asked him curiously.

"Their doing well Rebekah thanks you. Mira's enjoying Highgarden." That had been a very big surprise, the daughter of a minor Northern Lord becoming a handmaiden to the only daughter of one of the most powerful houses in Westeros, perhaps even the known world.

"That's good to here, and how is Asher?" She said asking about Gregor Forrester's second son.

"He's okay, though not very happy about not being able to be with the Whitehill girl." Gregor told her a bit bitterly. Gregor Forrester had almost been forced to go to exile Asher to avoid a war with the Whitehills but when Rebekah had learned what was happening between the two families she had amassed a host of 2,000 men and had seized Highpoint, the seat of house Whitehill. As a result of threatening to start a war without either his overlords Lord Glover's or her own father's permission, Ludd Whitehills had been punished very harshly. Half of the wealth in Highpoint had been added to the coffers of Winterfell and to add insult to injury Rebekah had gifted half of the Whitehills ironwood to the Forresters. Of course it was only temporary, after sixty years the Whitehills would get their lost land back.

"Getting to the point I would like you to supply ironwood to Lord Manderly so he can begin constructing a Northern fleet." She told him as his eyes widened in shock. The North hadn't possessed a naval fleet since her ancestor Brandon the burner, but for god's sake half the North was covered in forests and she was going to put it to good use. "This isn't a demand, your free to refuse, however you will be paid exceptionally well for the ironwood." The cost would be split between the White Harbor and Winterfell, the two richest seats in the North. Though she probably she shouldn't be spending so recklessly, yes she had increased the revenues of Winterfell but not by a great deal and between rebuilding Moat Cailin and the creation of a Northern fleet she was spending a fortune, but you had to spend money to make money.

"While I understand the benefits of a Northern fleet the amount of ironwood required would be a phenomenal amount." Gregor pointed out reluctantly.

"I understand your concerns. However I'm not asking you to cut down all your ironwood trees at once, infant you may not even have to cut down a single Forrester tree if we are lucky." She told him smiling. Lord Gregor looked at her confused. "If you use the trees from the former Whitehill lands then-"

"By the time the fleet is complete and the Whitehills get their land back, there'll probably be little if any ironwood left." The lord of Ironwrath interrupted her smirking.

"Yep." She said smirking. Ludd Whitehill had squandered what little Ironwood his family had left and when the Forresters gave them their land back there won't be much left for those idiots. Life was good in the North, reward the loyal and punish the disloyal.

-TVQ-

Ned Stark POV, Kings Landing

He was in the 'godswood' in Kings Landing. Not that it was a proper godswood Ned thought but he felt more at peace there than in any other place in this damn city.

"You're in pain." Cersei said as she walked up to him, though the tone of her voice and the smirk on her face was anything but sympathetic.

"I've had worse my lady." Ned told her as he stood up.

"Perhaps it's time to go home." She replied still wearing that damn smirk. "The South doesn't seem to agree with you." The queen was right about that, his family never did well in the south.

"I know the truth about your children." He told her. "They're obviously not Roberts so whose are they?"

"Targaryens wed brother and sister for 300 years to keep bloodlines pure." Cersei said shocking him, the queen laid with her own brother, the kingslayer. "Jaime and I are more than brother and sister. We shared a womb, came into this world together, we belong together." Gods, no wonder Joffrey appeared sadistic and cruel, incest did that to a person.

"My son saw you with him." He said trying to contain his anger, while if possible it seemed the smirk on Cersei's face widened. He was tempted to draw his sword and cut her down then and there, after all there were no Lannister guards present.

"Do you love your children?" She asked him.

"With all my heart." He answered.

"No more then I love mine." He didn't know where she was going with this.

"And there all Jaime's?" He asked wanting her to confirm it.

"Thank the gods." Cersei said letting out a small laugh. "In the rare event Robert leaves his whores long enough to stumble drunk into my bed I finish him off in other ways. In the morning he doesn't remember."

"You've always hated him?" He asked curiously.

"Hated him. I worshiped him, every girl in the seven kingdoms dreamed of him yet he was mine by oath and when I saw him on our wedding day in the Sept of Baelor, lean and fierce and black bearded, it was the happiest moment of my life." The queen had a small smile on her face and actually seemed to be speaking honestly for once before it was replaced with anger. "And that night he crawled on top of me, stinking of wine and did what little he did, what little he could do. He whispered in my ear Lyanna. Your sister was a corpse and I was living girl yet he loved her more than me." Did she expect him to feel sorry for her. Robert fought a war for Lyanna and he wasn't going to get over her so quickly.

"When the king returns from his hunt I'll tell him the truth. You need to be gone by then, you and your children, for wherever you go Roberts wrath will follow you." Cersei deserved death, her children on the other hand didn't.

"And what of my wrath Lord Stark?" She asked him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "You should have taken the realm for yourself. Jaime told me about the day Kings Landing fell. He was sitting on the Iron Throne and you made him give it up." He remembered that day very well. "All you needed to do was climb the steps yourself. Such a sad mistake."

"I've made many mistakes in my life, but that was not one of them."

"Oh but it was. When you play the Game of Thrones you win or you die. There is no middle ground." She said threateningly. She then turned to leave but before he did he asked her one more question.

"Who murdered Jon Arryn?" Ned's first though that it was hers, especially since he knew Jon was looking into the matter of the queen's children but Rebekah's words about how it wasn't the Lannisters kept ringing in his head.

"I honestly don't know Lord Stark, but I thank however it was. Like you Jon Arryn had, or at least was close to the learning the truth about my children." The queen answered and then left, leaving him to ponder what he had learned.

-TVQ-

Ned couldn't believe what had happened, Robert on his deathbed, as the result of a bloody big. Though if what Varys had hinted was true then Lancel Lannister and the queen where responsible for what had happened to Robert, though there was nothing he could do about that now.

"Lord Stark." He heard Renly Baratheon say. The youngest Baratheon brother didn't seem very bothered about the fact that his brother was on his death bed. "A moment, alone if you will?" He asked and Ned nodded and he gestured for his guards to carry on walking. "He named you protector of the realm?"

"He did." He answered Renly

"She won't care. Give me an hour and I can put 100 swords at your command." A hundred swords would be useful but what did Renly want him to do with them.

"And what am I supposed to do with a hundred swords?" He asked.

"Strike." Renly answered like it was obvious "Tonight while the castle sleeps. We must get Joffrey away from his mother and into our custody. Protector of the realm or no, he who holds the king holds the kingdom." Clearly Renly knew or at least suspected the truth about Joffrey and his siblings. "Every moment you delay gives Cersei another moment to prepare. By the time Robert dies it will be too late for the both of us."

"What about Stannis?" He asked as it was clear Renly had no intention of supporting his brother.

Renly looked amused by what Ned had said. "Saving the seven kingdoms from Cersei and delivering them to Stannis. You have odd notions about protecting the realm."

"Stannis is your older brother." He pointed out.

"This isn't about the bloody line of succession. That didn't matter when you rebelled against the mad king, it shouldn't matter now. What's best for the kingdoms, what's best for the people we rule. We all know what Stannis is, he inspires no love or loyalty. He's not a king, I am." Renly boldly proclaimed, puffing out his chest.

"Stannis is a commander. He's lead men into war twice, he destroyed the Greyjoy fleet." Stannis was proven battle commander and since war was inevitable, then the realm needed a commander, not an arrogant boy like Renly.

"Yes he's a good soldier everyone knows that, so was Robert. Tell me something do you still believe good soldiers make good king." That was actually a good point Ned thought reluctantly. Robert had been a brilliant warrior but a terrible king.

"I will not dishonour Roberts last hours by shedding blood in his halls and dragging frightened children from their beds." He told Renly firmly as he then walked off. As he approached his guards he whispered to them quietly so no one could here "I have a job for you." Once he told them what he wanted to do he headed to his office in the tower of the Hand. "Has it been done?" he asked his new captain of the guards now that Jory was dead.

"Yes Lord Stark, the ravens have been sent." The guard answered him. He'd given Cersei the chance to save herself and her children but she'd forced his hand.

"Good." He then saw Petyr Baelish enter his office "Leave us." He told his guard.

-TVQ-

Rebekah POV, Winterfell

She, Jon and Theon were in the great hall of Winterfell breaking their fast. There wasn't much food out, after all summer would end soon then it would be a very long winter, one which the North was already preparing for. But we Northerners knew winter well and when it came they would be prepared. She had received no reports of Karsi and the Free Folk raiding any of the lords lands and slowly but surely the Northern lords were accepting their new neighbours.

She was drinking some ale when maester Luwin burst into the hall rather urgently. "Lady Stark, a message from your father." Taking the letter she saw the seal of the hand of the king. Breaking the seal she read over the letter.

To all Lords and Ladies of Westeros.

Robert Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men is dead. However the thrown should not pass over to his son as King Robert had no true born sons. The boys Joffrey and Tommen and the girl Myrcella are bastards born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. The proof of my claims is the fact that every Baratheon since Orys Baratheon himself have been black of hair and blue of eyes. Robert, his brothers Stannis and Renly, his niece Shireen as well as his many bastards are all black of hair and blue of eyes, while Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella Waters are all blond of hair and green of eyes.

As a result of this I denounce Joffrey and his sibling as usurpers and his parents Cersei and the Kinglayer as traitors of the crown and the realm.

Signed Eddard Stark

Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount and Warden of the North and Hand of the King

"Shit." Incest, she couldn't believe it, what the hell could make you not only fuck your own sibling but have their children, the thought made her want to throw up. Though that did explain why Joffrey's blood had tasted bad, incest left a few negative effects both physical and mental. In fact she was fairly sure Tyrion Lannister was a dwarf because he was a product of incest between Tywin and Joanna Lannister.

"Rebekah what is it?" Jon asked and wordlessly she handed him the letter. As he read over it he muttered "Fuck."

"What shall you do Lady Stark?" Luwin asked her.

"Call the banners." Rebekah told him as Jon and Luwin stared at her in shock while Theon began smirking.

"Are you sure my lady?" Maester Luwin asked sceptically.

"Why father has accused the king of being a bastard born of incest. House Lannister will not tolerate this insult, so yes. CALL THE BANNERS." She said yelling at him as he then went to do that. "Jon" She said looking to her brother "Take ten men and travel to the Wolfswood. Find and recruit the hill tribes for the war." Unlike the hill tribes of the Vale who despised the Arryns the hill tribes of the North were fiercely loyal to the Starks.

"Are you scared?" Theon asked her.

"Yes." Rebekah answered.

"Good. Means you're not stupid." Theon said to her.

End of chapter 10. Please review.

Trife: The 60,000 wildlings are referring to the army Mance Rayder has gathered, while the 5,000 wildlings are led by Karsi who have marched south. They are two different wildling armies.