King's Landing

Eddard Stark

Ned sat on a stone bench in the gardens of the Red Keep, the gardens overlooked the Sept. He knew of the Queen's secret and he would have to tell both Robert and Boudicca. The only thing that stopped him was his honour and he found himself cursing it too often since his arrival at King's Landing. If I tell him, what would happen to Cersei and her children? After witnessing Robert's thirst for blood, his impassiveness and his determination to finally rid himself of the Targaryen's, it did not even matter to Robert that they were children.

Eddard was no longer sure of what his old friend might do upon finding out, time and drink had changed his friend. Ned wanted to, by the Gods, he wanted to believe that Robert would spare the children he once thought of as his, though Ned no longer wanted to take such a risk and waste the innocent lives of the younger golden haired children.

Ned reopened his grey eyes and his eyes landed on Cersei striding down the steps gracefully in a crimson and gold dress. A prowling lioness, Eddard thought as he looked on at her, his eyes fixated firmly on her. Her golden hair spilt freely down her shoulders, like a lion's mane and her eyes that were cat-like green were narrowed into two slits. Although her beauty paled in comparison to his wife's or his daughter's, he could not deny the fact that she was beautiful.

"Why here?" Cersei asks as he stands.

"The Gods can watch over us," Ned says simply and nods towards the Sept.

"I doubt they will care too much," Cersei replied and gave him a small albeit false smile. Her hands clasp together as she nears him until they are speaking face to face. The lioness tilts her head to the side and eyes his cane with a raised brow. "You seem to be in pain. The South doesn't seem to agree with you as of late."

"I know the truth, the truth that Jon Arryn died for," Eddard replied solemnly.

"Do you, Lord Stark?" She mocked, raising an eyebrow. I do.

"How long have you and your brother been lovers?" He asked bluntly and he looked on as she didn't even flinch at the accusation.

"A long time," Cersei began and her lips pursed as she eyed him in disdain. "Jaime and I are more than brother and sister, we shared a womb together. We came into this world together, we belong together. And whenever I am with him, I feel whole. You cannot question it. The Targaryen's wed brother and sister for centuries to keep their bloodlines pure."

"Half the Targaryen's went mad, didn't they?" Ned said, finding himself scoffing.

Her false smile vanished then and almost immediately her hand struck his cheek. His head snapped to the side, he stayed like this for a few moments to compose himself but turned back to face her, his expression remained unchanged. He stared at her intently, noticing the red bruising on her cheek but as he looked into her eyes, he saw them containing nothing but hatred and anger towards him.

"My son, Bran. He saw you with Jaime, didn't he?" Eddard accused.

"Do you love your children, Lord Stark?" Cersei asked, avoiding the question.

"I love them with all my heart," Ned replied immediately and looked on with hostility.

"No more than I love mine," Cersei retorted.

All of them or just Jaime's? He wanted to ask but decided to go against it, feeling the sting of her slap lingering on his cheek.

"And Boudicca?" Eddard inquired.

"Boudicca," Cersei repeated and her voice was barely above a whisper then before their eyes met once more and a soft frown compared to her usually heavy one was present on her face. "My eldest daughter is the only good thing that ever came out of my relationship and marriage with Robert. And she was the first thing to ever love me so…purely, before she was born Robert had laid with every whore in King's Landing. And he beat me, but since I had her, Robert went with fewer women and rarely hit me, for her sake of course, not for mine. I had been so careful, so careful and yet when that storm hit the Keep and I cradled her wriggling little body for the first time. My daughter looked up at me with absolute worship. It was as if I was the only one who mattered. All I felt was love from this tiny black haired babe. She wasn't Robert's. She wasn't Jaime's. She was mine. Mine. Do not dare question the love I hold for my children, Lord Stark."

"What did he do? What did Robert ever do to make you hate him so much?" Ned asked. "Was there ever I time where you didn't hate?"

"I worshipped him once," Cersei seethed and her eyes burned. It looked like she was going to slap him again but she somehow managed to regain her composure. "All the girls and women in Westeros dreamed of him but he was mine by oath. I saw him on our wedding day; tall, strong and handsome with a black beard that any man would be proud of. It was one of the happiest moments of my life, but when the time came to consummate our marriage. He came to me, stinking of wine and called me Lyanna. Your sister was a corpse and I was a living girl but he loved her more than me. Now look at what he has become, a fat and violent drunkard. I cannot say I regret marrying him, after all, I would not have my first born and for that I thank him. I wear every hit with pride, knowing that my daughter will defend my honour. A mother loves nothing more than their child defending them."

Ned looked at her with nothing but pity in his eyes. Catelyn and I love each other more than life itself, he thought. The love between him and his wife was strong. The Queen had been forced to marry a man who did not love her but rather, loved a ghost. And she had to live a life she did not desire to live and despite his sympathy, he had given the blonde haired woman, he knew that he must do the honourable thing. Robert was his friend. They were brothers.

"I am telling Robert. I will do so once he returns from his hunt. I will tell him everything. Cersei, for the sake of your children as well as your own life I beg you to flee. I do not want their blood on my hands. Take Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen and flee to the Free Cities. You must be gone before he comes back. Take as many men with and I am sure your family's gold will ensure and give you a decent life. You must, wherever you go Robert's wrath will follow you. Boudicca loves you and will ensure that no harm will come to you, she will never let Robert came after you," Ned pleaded.

"If you expect me and my children to willingly go into exile, you are mistaken. No, I will not have Boudicca thrown to the wolves or left facing the wrath of Robert. The throne will go to my eldest son, Joffrey. You will have to accept that," Cersei informed him and eyed him distrustfully. "If not, you and your family will be held as traitors."

"I can never pledge my fealty nor bend the knee to a boy with a false claim," Ned admitted and sucked in a sharp breath. "The throne rightfully belongs to Boudicca by all the laws of Gods and Men."

"You could have taken the Iron Throne yourself, Eddard. You could have ruled the realm," Cersei smirked as she continued. "Jaime told me. The day King's Landing fell, you marched into the throne room and made my brother step down from the Iron Throne. All you had to do was climb up those steps and take the throne for yourself. You would have made a good King. It was a grave mistake on your part."

"I have made many mistakes in my life," He admits with a smile as he shook his head. "That is not one of them."

"Oh, but it was," Cersei breathed, her face set into a sneer. "When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground."

"Keep those silly Southern games to yourself, I want no part in them," Eddard laughed coldly.

"Goodbye, Lord Stark," She says coolly before she turns on her heel.

His grey eyes follow Cersei as she begins to walk away, he watched her retreating figure and he was about to do the same as the Queen, turning to walk away until a rather chilling thought came to his mind. Ned stilled, his brows furrowing and at this thought that made him shift uncomfortably, he turned back to the Queen.

"If you truly believe Joffrey will become King, that means the boy will go after everyone he deems an enemy. You always told him to do so," Ned asked, calling after the Queen. Queen Cersei stopped in her tracks and turned to him, her eyes smug and her lips were pulled into a cruel smile. "He will, will he not?"

"Good," Cersei leers. "It is a King's duty to destroy his enemies before they destroy him. The King is the flower and the Kingdoms are his bed and the enemies are the weeds, forever growing. If a King does not pull out those weeds, they will strangely him in his sleep."

"His enemies. It will also mean he will destroy everyone that he hates, everyone that has wronged him or slighted him," He points out. "Tell me, who is the one person who has both wronged him and holds his hate? If he becomes King, the moment that golden crown is placed on his head, he will go after her first."


Boudicca Baratheon

Occasionally as she wrote her letter to Robb, she would stroke the fur of her small cub. Boudicca was wary about letting her cub leave her side, especially when she thought back to Joffrey and the spat they had earlier. In response, Orion nuzzled himself into her lap. She looked down at him, placing her quill down, having finished writing her letter and smiled widely. The lively Arya was also in her room and she decided to let the girl wander about her chambers but noticed that the girl kept eyeing the weapons on her wall as she continued her tale.

Although Boudicca knew that Arya would leave with her to Winterfell, she was deeply confused as to why Lady Sansa would be leaving with them too. It did not concern her as she knew that both the Stark girls would be far better in the loyal North than in the treacherous South. The Stark's were better off as a pack. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

"I also put a pile of sheep shite in Sansa's bedding, it took her a week to find the smell!" Arya cackled causing Boudicca to roar with laughter. "I came into her room that evening when I heard her cries and saw that she had cut up the mattress and furs. She had found it. I never thought she ever would, I just made her think it was her imagination! It took two whole weeks for it be clean again. My sister had to sleep in one of the guest chambers. Though mother did scold me, as did Sansa. And the Septa had given me a whack or two, but it was worth it! The look on Sansa's face."

"Ah, that takes me back to when I was a girl!" Boudicca chuckled. "Although your jokes to Sansa were harmless and innocent, despite the smell of it. Ours were not. Joffrey and I did it with intent. If he had hurt Myrcella and Tommen, I took the liberty of hurting him or at least jesting him. Although, I did not put leeches on him while he slept or put dung in his boots. I played a much better jest on him…I played with his mind. The boy was a fool, short tempered and ugly hearted, and he still is."

"I wish you were my sister instead of Sansa," Arya said and screwed up her nose but she shot the girl a pointed look. "Myrcella can be Sansa's sister."

"I would not say such things," Boudicca warned. "One day you may not have her. You are two sides of the same coin, like my sister and I. We are night, they are day. They are water, we are fire. You and Sansa are both from the North, despite the little Southern lady that Sansa prides herself to be, you both are wolves. And if winter is truly coming like you Stark's say, then is it not better for you to be in a pack than a lone wolf?"

"I-" Arya began but was interrupted when a squire burst into the room, unannounced, startling them both.

"Yes?" Boudicca inquired agitated and stood up from her chair.

The red haired squire turned to face her, his freckled face was red as his hair. He stumbled when bowed to her while doing so he tried to regain his breath. Boudicca edged towards Arya, placing Orion in the younger girl's arms before focusing her attention fully on the frantic squire.

"A thousand apologies, my Princess," He rasped, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"No need. Now, what is it?" Boudicca demanded.

"Your father, King Robert-" The servant began, "He has been gravely injured."

At this, her eyes widened in terror and she hurried quickly to the door to her chambers, roughly shoving past the squire before she sprinted down the halls with Arya running after her with Orion bounding at her feet. Boudicca cared not for the looks she was given as she nudged harshly passed people or the whispers that reached her ears, all she cared for was getting to her father as a dread settled in her stomach.

Boudicca arrived at the King's chambers, opening the door wide, though she found that he was not alone. Her mother and younger brother, Joffrey were present as well as Lord Stark and the Grand Maester Pycelle. Her eyes landed on Ser Barristan, who gave her a sad glance before she turned to face her father and her body went numb then. There her father was, lying on his bed, his normally red face sickening grey and his grand belly covered in bandages. Though as she looked closer, even the bandages failed to hide the gaping wound in his side. She swallowed , brushing past Ser Barristan and stared at her father, watching from the door. No, father…please…

Her Uncle Renly was pacing across the room and she found herself watching him, left and right, right and left before her eyes met her mother who was conversing in quiet murmurs with Pycelle. And much to her surprise, Joffrey was sitting on the bed with a pained look on his face and tears in his eyes. As she entered the chambers further, all eyes turned to her.

"Boudicca," Her father rasped as she approached, she threw herself to her knees by his bedside and he reached out and placed a large hand on her cheek, that covered most of her right cheek and head. His hand was growing cold and was clammy, though most of his body was covered in sweat and she couldn't bear to look when his bleary blue eyes landed met her green.

"Father-" She said frantically, grasping at his hand on her cheek and closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "Listen to me, you old arse, you cannot die!"

"A boar, dear girl!" He replied weakly, chuckling as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "It was my fault, Boudicca. I drank too much wine, missed my damned mark. But I got it, girl, slashed the fucker's throat with a dagger! You could eat it at sup tonight in vengeance."

"You fool!" She cursed, tears welling up in her eyes but she kept them back, for his sake. "I hate you! You bloody, blind, drunken fool!"

"Harsh. I want the damned room cleared," Robert ordered, lifting up his head and turned to the other people present. "I want to speak with my children, my brother and Ned alone."

"Robert-" Cersei began.

"All of you out!" Robert commanded. "I'm sorry, J-Joff," Her father coughed as everyone left her father's chambers besides herself, her brother, her uncle and Lord Stark. "I should've spent more time with you. I should have taught you how to be a ruler, not that I was that great a ruler. I should have taught you how to be a man. T-Tomorrow, you will become King and I pray that you will be a better ruler than I ever was. Be the King that I never was. Promise me."

"Yes, father," Joffrey replied and it took all of her strength not to lash out at him. "I promise to be a great King."

"Go," Her father said. "I do not wish for you to see this."

No, he won't father. Boudicca thought grimly as she followed her brother's retreating figure as he briskly left the room but before he left their father's chambers, she could have sworn she saw tears escape his green eyes. After Joffrey had left, Robert turned to her Uncle Renly and he too, had tears well up in his eyes and he did not dare blink. He too refused to blink, in fear that the tears would escape. Stags do not cry We do not cry.

"Brother-" Robert began solemnly. "I know that we never have and never will see eye to eye. Hells, I wasn't even the best brother. Please, Renly, I want you to make your peace with our brother. He is the only family you have left, do not let your differences tear House Baratheon apart. Stannis may not be jolly or as kind as you and I but, but he is a good man. A just man. It is not worth it to resent him for such things. If you see him, tell him 'I'm sorry'."

Her uncle nodded curtly, yet she gripped onto her father's hand tighter. She saw a flicker of emotion behind Renly's pained green eyes before he spun sharply on his heel and swiftly left the room. My father isn't even dead, she thought angrily and bitterly. And they are already fighting for the throne, damn them! Damn the whole bloody lot of them! Joffrey! Renly! Stannis! They mean nothing to me!

"Boudicca," Her father called out weakly and she turned to him again, keeping her grasp on his hand.

"Please! You must fight!" She pleaded, gripping his hand. "You don't understand! You cannot die! I see a hunger in their eyes!"

"All will be well, my little warrior," He said with a chuckle, his voice softer than it ever has been as he patted her cheek. "I promise."

"We are sitting ducks! Myrcella, Tommen, mother and I! And what of Joffrey?" Boudicca inquired panicked. "He is merely a boy! That throne will chew that boy up and spit out his bones! He isn't ready, father. Please-"

"Enough," Her father coughed before he gave her a sincere and tender look. "I doubt any father has had a better daughter than I, if they claim they do, they are talking shite. I cannot tell you enough how many times I have been proud of you, of the woman you are and the warrior that you will become. You will protect your mother and your siblings, won't you? You always have protected them, dear girl. You've done a b-bloody better job than I ever have. From the moment of your birth, w-we were so alike in appearance and in personality. Your siblings are still you, they will need your protection and guidance. You will protect them, won't you?"

"I promise father," Boudicca vowed fiercely, close to tears and gripped his hand tighter as it slackened. "I will protect my siblings. I will give them the Iron Throne that you once sat upon. I will take the lands of Westeros and beyond. I, Boudicca of House Baratheon, promise this. And if any dares to harm them, I will take an army to their door. I will kill their men where they stand and set alight their castles. I will take their lands, their women and their children and I will bring their broken banners back to my siblings and mother. This I swear before the Seven. As the heavens look down and witness it."

"That is all I needed to here, my fierce daughter," Robert said hoarsely as he let out a string of violent coughs. "My fierce little warrior, though I can hardly call you little anymore, can I? "

"The bard will ensure that your memory lives on," Boudicca stated. "I will make sure your memory lives on through the fury I possess."

"My m-memory," Robert laughed, thought it looked painful to as he went into another coughing fit. "King Robert Baratheon, slain by a pig. Ha."

"No. I will not let them write such things. They will sing of King Robert Baratheon, the Stag that bucked the world!" Boudicca proclaimed softly, letting out a breathless laugh though she found it didn't contain any humour. It was a sad, empty laugh.

"Let me see your eyes, one last time. Will you?" Robert asked, her pained green eyes met his regretful blue ones. "Beautiful. Now go, go to your younger siblings and tell them of me. Tell them that I love them. Will you do that for me? I wish to speak with Ned alone."

"Despite everything that you have done, I love you. And I love you still," Boudicca said sincerely and placed a final and last kiss to his sweaty hand and turned away from her father, knowing that it will be the final glimpse she ever got of her father. She let out breathless sobs, that she contained and buried deep inside of herself as she fled from his chambers.


Boudicca slowly walked towards Tommen's chambers where Myrcella would be and during this time, she tried to find a kinder way to tell them of their father's passing. Boudicca knew that she would be fooling herself if she tried to find a kinder way. She grimaced, she never had the ability to go about things gently, even as a child, she had always been too rough. Too aggressive. All her life she had been blunt, regardless of other people. As she turned the corner, she was surprised to see Joffrey lingering at their brother's chamber door. His hand was covering his mouth and it was clear to her, that he had been crying…

Boudicca made her way hesitantly towards him and placed a hand on his right shoulder, he bristled and whirled around startled but he relaxed immediately when he saw her. She had expected him to sneer and leer at her, or look on at her in disdain but rather than do any of those things, he looked on at her with a pained and terrified face.

"Nor do I, but we all dance with death in the end," Boudicca remarked.

"I do not want father to die," Joffrey muttered and she sighed, nodding slowly. "I don't want to be King yet."

"Nor do I, but we all dance with death in the end," Boudicca remarked. "How do you reckon we should tell them?"

Boudicca was taken aback when Joffrey pulled her into his embrace, she stilled, shocked at this gesture from him she hadn't been given in years but nevertheless despite the cruelty he has shown her, he was still her brother and he needed her. Boudicca returned his embrace, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. For a moment, after they finally let go, for this moment, she felt as if they were brother and sister, sister and brother. Hopefully, they could build a true relationship without torture from this. And after getting over the shock, she found her hand lingering on the handle of Tommen's chambers and eyed it hesitantly, another hand wrapped around her own and she looked to her brother with a firm look.

"Together?" Boudicca asked.

"Together," He confirmed.

Boudicca noticed their younger siblings were sitting on the bed with looks of worry. Joffrey entered first, followed by herself after she had lifted up the cub that followed her and entered the room shortly after their brother. Boudicca approached her siblings, setting down the cream coloured cub on the bed next to her blonde haired siblings. Where is mother? Boudicca wondered. Their mother should be with them.

"Is it true, Icca?" Myrcella asked softly, her features concerned. "Is it true that father is injured?"

"Will he be okay?" Tommen asked but she shook her head solemnly.

"You have to be strong now, my cubs," Boudicca began and upon hearing this they erupted into tears. "You have to be strong now."

Boudicca pulled them into a tight hug, as they wrapped their arms around her and gripped onto her. And she held them, falling to her knees and rocked them back and forth until they found themselves, holding each other in a tight embrace, on the hard and cold floor. She threaded her fingers through their golden curls and pressed their foreheads together, their warm breath fanning her face, as they cried loudly.

"F-Father can't die!" Myrcella protested, sobbing loudly. "He can't!"

"Icca, don't let him die!" Tommen cried as he buried his head into her hair. "Please, don't let him!"

"Our father loves us very much," Boudicca told them hoarsely, as she hushed their sobs as best she could and stared at Joffrey while she held their siblings. "All of us. The Seven will welcome him into the Heavens and if they are just, he will be hunting forevermore with our ancestors and drinking his great fill in the afterlife. And when the stars appear within the sky, he will look down upon us and wait. But until that time, I will protect you. I promise. As long as I live, nothing bad will ever happen to you. No blood will spill from your bodies. If it does, I will put whoever harms you to the sword."

You were wrong father. They care not for us, Boudicca thought angrily as she held her siblings close and looked over at the small iron statues of the Seven on Tommen's bookstand. Her eyes narrowed as she held her sobbing sibling's closer and rocked them back and forth, hushing them but that wouldn't do much. Nor shall I care for them!