A/U: To Lose a Crown: After the marriage of her sister, Sansa is bereft of the crown that should have been hers; Demoted to the unmarried sister of the future queen, Sansa is the most sought after bride in all Westeros.
Chapter Nine:
the first three peaceful years of Gendry's reign had not lasted long. Lord Walder Fray ever treacherous had refused to bend the knee and risen in rebellion. The king had called his banners to the Riverlands. He'd taken all of the Lannister men old or healthy enough to fight.
Lancel was far away commanding the Lannister forces while Sansa remained at Casterly Rock. She cared for Lord Tywin as he lay on his death bed.
"Water, please water." The dying man wheezed.
"Here" Sansa helped Tywin drink from his goblet. It was a strange thing to see the great warrior reduced to a dying old man.
"Thank you Sansa." He breathed heavily. "Is there any word from my sons." He had asked each day that week. Lord Tywin knew he was not long for the world, he wanted peace with Jamie and Tyrion.
"No I'm sorry there is not." She had sent a raven, twice a day each day he asked, still it was a slim chance either man would reply.
"I shouldn't of been so hard on them, especially not Tyrion. Ah." He sighed. "The regrets of a dying man." he smiled weekly. "What of your son Sansa? do you get news of him?"
"He writes me himself." She rubbed her swelling belly, where a new child grew.
"Does he now, how old is he now?"
"Still only three my lord, He's no great writer though." She smiled to herself. "He asks to come to Caterlilly each time he writes."
"Caterlilly? where in seven hells is that?"
"Here Tywin." He laughed a little.
"It reminds me of Tyrion at that age, always reading he was an intelligent boy far more so than what I gave him credit for. Both of my sons so much regret, I was a good soldier, a good strategist and a good politician. I was a terrible father and my sons despise me."
"I'm sure your sons don't despise you."
"Then you didn't know my sons." He deadpanned with complete certainty.
"Cersei was good, you must be proud of her." He didn't respond, he even seemed to close off a bit.
"My daughter was-" He paused. "I must confess something to you." Tywin looked far more serious than he normally did.
"What?" Sansa had never seen Lord Tywin act this way.
"What I have to tell you is what littlefinger and Jon Arryn died for." Sansa was shocked and confused.
"They died years ago, Lord Arryn of a pox and Petyr Baelish was murdered by a crazed whore!" She supposed the old man's mind had started to go.
"They were killed." He he said it with utter certainty. "They were killed on the orders of Cersei."
"That can't be true I served Cersei as her handmaiden for years I knew her she wouldn't do such a thing she was good!"
"I knew her whole life, I was her father if there was one thing she would kill for it was her children."
"But why what threat could they have been?"
"They're bastards." Sansa's mouth was agape.
"Whose?" She whispered.
"Ja- no, no I must keep that secret." He swallowed. "Only know she left Robert no true born heirs."
"But Gendry is the splitting Image of Robert how could he be another man's?"
"Well he's not another man's." He sighed. "That was another more complicated deception, one Cersei knew nothing of." Sansa wondered how a woman could possibly be fooled about who her son is. "The first born boy, the real Gendry died of a fever two months after his birth."
"How-"
"I'm getting to that." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I swapped the dead boy for one of Robert's bastards. The mother was easy enough to convince, the promise of your son on the throne can be a powerful thing to the likes of a serving wench."
"Surely Cersei or Robert would have noticed such a deception!"
"They were at Dragonstone, paying a royal visit." Tears were in his eyes. "I buried that boy myself, just outside Old Gate. He was so little, he was my grandson."
"But why?"
"Because it was long ago they loved that little boy, and through him each other." Tywin exhaled. "I thought there was a chance for Cersei to be happy with someone other than-" he stopped himself again. "Each time I visited Kings Landing I made sure I had time to go to the place where I buried him, my grandson."
"That poor child." She breathed.
By the next morning Tywin had died, he went peacefully as though all his burdens were lifted. Sansa sent a raven to his sons in Meereen, she had little hope they would reply.
Months passed, and the war in the Riverlands still went on. Unlike Tywin the old Lord Frey refused to die. It seemed there was no end his hoard of sons. Sansa grew bigger still, and the Maester suspected twins.
Until one day word came from the Twins, that all the Freys were dead. From either side of the river they had been besieged by Stark forces to the north, Baratheon and Lannister to the south. Half of them starved, with such a large family food ran out fast. When lord Frey surrendered his sons and daughters swarmed out of the castle like rats. The king put them all to the sword, they were calling it the battle of the Red River.
Sansa waited for two weeks for the Lannister forces to return home again. She had gotten no news as to who had survived the battle. Word was that the Lannisters had sustained little losses, but the Tyrells had lost much. They had marched a force of twenty thousand men north, but would return south with less than half that number. Sansa preyed that Willas would be safe.
Sansa had fallen asleep by the fire in their bedchamber when Lancel returned. He went to stand beside Sansa, and woke her gently. When her eyes opened they went wide in surprise.
"Your home!" She wrapped her arms around him
"Yes my love." He looked her over. "You've grown." She smiled at him. "I hope uncle Tywin hasn't been a bore these past months." Sansa's face dropped to the floor. "He's dead."
"Yes." Sansa whispered. "We sent ravens, but got no response."
"King Gendry had all the ravens shot out of the sky, your messages must have gone astray." At the mention of the King, Sansa became fearful.
"I-I must tell you something."
"What is it? whats wrong? Is it Cedric? is the baby?" Lancel asked so many questions in quick succession Sansa could barely understand him.
"No, they're both fine."
"Then what?" Sansa stood to be closer to the fire.
"Tywin told me things before he died." She looked into the dancing flames. "Terrible things."
Lancel didn't respond, he just watched her and the flames cast shadows in her blue eyes.
"He told me the truth about the King. Prince Gendry has been dead for twenty four years, switched with one of Roberts many bastards."
"How could Robert do such a thing, deceive his own wife." Sansa chose not to point out Robert had many bastards, which was hardly honest.
"No it was Tywin who made the switch." He shook his head in disbelief.
"Then I must gather my men and ride for the Vale and declare for Joffrey he is our true king!" It was Sansa's turn to shake her head.
"Another bastard."
"Then Tommen must be-" She shook her head again. "Myrcella-" His mouth dropped open. "All of them?"
"Yes."
"Cedric dear sweet little Cedric!" Sansa looked at him aghast.
"No! He's just a boy and that bloody iron throne is poison!"
"Its his by right of blood!" He shouted. "He's your son how can you deny it to him?"
"People have found this secret out before Lancel!" She breathed heavy and tears streamed down her face. "And their all dead from either poison, knives or old age, if this came out all of Westeros would bleed for it."
"How can you let your sister be wed to a bastard." Sansa rather thought it served her right.
"She's happy." She answered. "Besides I could hardly stop her."
"What will you do?" Sansa had given it little thought.
"I'll tell my son when he's old enough, and he can decide if he wants to rebel against his brothers."
"When he does he'll have my support I swear it by the seven."
Sansa didn't doubt his sincerity, just his intent. It was hard not to make a play for the crown for men and women alike. Many had died trying. Who would die for Cedric's right to rule. Would it be her husband, Ser Willas or even her son.
She remembered words Cersei had given her long ago, When you play the Game of Thrones, you win.
Or you die.
A/N: Update on my review issue what ever was happening is not happening anymore, which is great. Speaking of reviews nineteen Jesus mother Mary and Santa Claus! you guys really like my stuff (some of you anyway). Thanks, Phillipe.