| Chapter Eleven |

SELENE

All at once she felt as if everything she had built up had shattered.

There, in the throne room, before a handful of people she stood attempting to conceal the ripping she felt inside of her. Her hands shook. She tried to mask it as she paced the room, holding the edge of the fireplace to keep her balance as she stared into the flames before her.

She felt moments away from breaking.

Had she truly been left to face this alone?

She couldn't speak, though once she had read the letter, the expression on her face was enough to divulge its contents. But she still could not wrap her head around the words. She didn't want to believe them, how could she? They were the words of a bastard child, the words of his advisers meant to strike fear into her mind. Or at least it was the logical reasoning behind them. Regardless of their intent, however, the outcome of her father's attack on King's Landing was at the very least apparent.

He had failed to take the capitol. And his fate was still yet unknown.

Of course Joffrey wanted to her to believe he was dead. It meant that he had finally become aware of her position. Word had finally reached his door that Selene Baratheon was Queen in the North and the Stark/Baratheon alliance had been forged behind the back of the boy king. How he'd found out, was still a mystery. But most importantly, now that her father had failed in his attempt at regaining his throne, Selene was left with the responsibility she had always feared.

And for it, Joffrey would want her head.

But she didn't fear for her life. She hadn't wasted one moment thinking such selfish thoughts upon the news that her father had been massacred in the battle. All she could think of was Shireen. Was she safe? Would Joffrey have her hunted down and murdered to secure his throne? It was a sickening thought and Selene's hands began shaking more when she pictured her sister's warm eyes. Be brave, her sister would whisper. But as hard as Selene tried, she could not remember the sound of her sister's voice. She closed her eyes, straining to remember her uninhibited laugh.

"Your Grace?" It was the Maester who spoke first, interrupting the silence and Selene's head snapped around, startled.

She tried to speak, tried to say something - anything - that would be of use. But no wisdom came to mind. No plan of action was at the ready and she felt suddenly too weak to stand. Alys was nearest and when she touched Selene's arm there was a sinking feeling that plummeted so hard into Selene's stomach that she felt as though she might fall to her knees. With each

"It seems as though our successes in the Westerlands were not mirrored at King's Landing," she whispered, but it was a strangled sound trying desperately to escape past the lump in the throat. "Joffrey writes that they sunk my father's fleet to the bottom of the Blackwater," she finally said and the words seemed even more impossible when said out loud. "They say that they watched my father's ship sink in flames of wildfyre."

"But surely there was some success on land?" Ser Rodrik questioned and she shook her head.

"The Starks and Baratheons were not the only ones with a secret alliance," she whispered. "Tywin fled the battle with the King and pressed east, to the capitol, with Mace Tyrell's army in his pocket. He arrive just in time to strike down all Baratheon efforts."

She shouldn't have been so surprised but she was. She couldn't help but hope that Mace Tyrell would have kept his pudgy nose out of it all. But instead he had gone and sold his daughter away to the Lannisters, and in turn they would have all the power they desired. It was a dangerous new enemy, she realized. Macy Tyrell had finally gotten his revenge on Stannis for Robert's Rebellion. But whilst she felt the sickening twist of grief in her veins, she knew that there was still hope.

Robb would take the Rock. And she would defend the North.

She had to keep the North.

Gyff stood not far from the door then, watching her with several men piling in behind him. The Lords had been roused to help her create a plan of action and now she had to try and keep her composure. Some were still drunk, she realized, not yet informed of a devastating failure in their endeavors. But they would not care so much as they would have if it had been Robb's defeat. These men did not bow to House Baratheon. And from the looks in their eyes it was clear they did not wish to bend a knee to her either.

"Selene," she heard someone whisper, touching her arm and she whipped around at the feeling of the foreign touch and she was met with familiar blue. Tully blue.

Catelyn.

"What," she whispered quickly, much too quickly she realized but she was too busy trying to organize her thoughts, trying to remove images of Shireen from her mind. "What?" she repeated again, feeling all of her frustration emerging at the woman before her.

"You need a moment," Catelyn tried to insist, taking Selene's arm in her gentle hand but Selene jerked it from the woman's grasp. "Selene, please do not make this harder on yourself. Come and you can be alone, take a moment to grieve."

"And what good will my grieving bring?" she wanted to shout but it came out as a near strangled gasp. "If my father is truly dead, my tears will be of no use to him now. The Ironborn are pillaging the coasts, raping Northern women. Soon they will be at our gates." She could feel the rage burning up within her as her whisper grew just slightly. "My sister will be taken soon, she and my mother slaughtered as soon as Joffrey's whitecoats reach the stronghold in Dragonstone. So you will forgive me if I would rather not waste a moment in shedding tears when there are things to be done."

"I know you are only fearing for your sister's life right now but take solace in knowing that it would serve them better to keep her hostage," Catelyn argued and Selene could feel her heart breaking, piece by piece.

"It didn't serve my uncle well when he took the capitol," she reminded the woman. "All Targaryens struck down on sight. That was his mandate. If you think Joffrey is more merciful than Robert, you are sorely mistaken. He wants any contender to his throne dead. Without competition, who is there to contest his legitimacy?"

"But surely they would want to keep her to draw you to them?" Catelyn attempted.

"He knows better than to think I'd be so foolish. There would be no sparing her if I offered myself in exchange. There would be no chance at rescue. If Joffrey gets his hands on my sister, she will be dead."

She did not wish to argue any further when she saw the realization in Catelyn's eyes. It was the same realization that had come upon Selene at the news of her father's supposed death. If he was dead, it was matter of days until Shireen would be put to death. No matter how desperately she wanted to go to her, Shireen's body would be rotting in the sea before Selene could reach her. And then she'd likely end up dead herself.

Better off, she thought briefly but pushed the thought from her mind when she heard the men begin to shout. Gyff had relayed the reports. Half of them were still drunk from the evenings festivities but still the stood by, awaiting her reaction. She too awaited her own reaction. Swallowing the lump in her throat, trying to suppress it deep down where it belonged - out of sight. Finally she looked to Maester Luwin.

"Fetch your two fasted ravens, Maester."

ROBB

News of the Battle of the Blackwater had reached him two days prior to Selene's letter. When the raven came from Winterfell he had feared it's contents. It was not written in his wife's hand he realized and he anticipated the Maester's words to explain of Selene's immediate journey to Dragonstone after her sister.

But the letter's contents were, on the contrary, not what he was expecting.

They were Selene's words in the Maester's hand. She spent next to no time discussing what took place at the Blackwater. She instead discussed something which disturbed Robb much more. News of the Ironborn ravaging the shores of the North meant that Theon, the man he trusted as brother, had either betrayed him, or failed to warn him in time that Robb's proposal was denied. Balon Greyjoy had decided to take the North and Robb was so far from home he could do nothing to protect it.

He'd been angry, so angry that he hadn't finished reading the letter when he read the news of the invasion. He had endeavored to send his mother and wife so far from the fighting that he had never anticipated that the North had been left so vulnerable. He had nothing to barter with, nothing anymore that Balon would want. The Kraken had his heir back and now planned to take advantage of Robb's absence. Robb thought of Selene and her previous letter. She'd been concerned over matters that seemed bigger to her at the time. Now she was faced with this on top of the news of her father's failure.

He read on, learning how she had taken action and Robb's heart raced over every word. What few eligible soldiers she had left had come to pay homage at the Harvest Feast. She would have their council to decide on further action. But no matter their decision, the outcome would be the same. They were simply too outnumbered. Robb and Stannis had taken the bulk of the Stark-Baratheon soldiers and left behind very little to keep the North protected against an attack as large as the Iron Fleet.

Victarion Greyjoy was ruthless in battle but he was the only of his brothers that wasn't mad. He could be reasoned with, Robb thought and Selene must have known this it well because she and the men had decided that the focus of their attention should be on holding Moat Cailin. He feared what it would mean for her. She was not a soldier, she could not fight on the field or with a sword. But perhaps, he realized, she would think she could take them by sea.

It was an idiotic plan, he wanted to tell her. He would tell her. She had too few ships in the North and not enough men to man them. She couldn't put herself up against the Ironborn at sea without her fleet. Her best hope was to hold Winterfell until he could dispatch enough ships to come to her aid.

It would mean siege, he thought. Here he was, nearly victorious in his own siege of Tywin's fortress and yet his own home might be under the same duress. He wanted to trust that she could hold it. He had very little choice in the matter otherwise. Both Selene and Robb faced the same dilema now. Neither could come to the aid of their loved ones. By the time either arrived it would be too late.

"Olyvar," he said finally when reaching the bottom of the letter and where she normally would give him some glimmer of hope, some morsel of confidence, she had merely signed her name. "How many members of the council are back from the fighting?"

"Just Lord Bolton, Your Grace," Olyvar informed and Robb glanced down at the letter once more.

"Call him here at once," Robb instructed. "It is a matter of great urgency. Dispatch a squire into the field and have him inform Lords Karstark and Umber of the Ironborn invasion. Have them return immediately."

"With the vanguard, Sire?"

"No, I cannot abandon the cause, just yet. We keep fighting until the Rock is ours. Once it falls we turn our force North and take back our land. In the mean time we will insist your father send reinforcements to the Queen's aid."

Olyvar merely nodded his assent.

Robb could think of a hundred other things that needed doing. A hundred letters he could writing seeking aid for his family. The West was essential to holding his claim. If he lost the West, his campaign would prove a failure. The Lannisters would not rest until the Starks were eliminated from Westeros. The North would be ravaged by enemies he could not afford.

Something made him think of Jon then. So far North that he could see passed the wall. He envied him in that brief moment. Perhaps there were hardships but there would be no war. Would he ever see him again, he wondered. Would he ever see any of them again? Jon, Bran, Rickon, Arya, Sansa, his mother. Selene.

"Your Grace, your squire said you wished to see me?" a voice called from behind him and he turned to see Roose Bolton pulling the flap of the tent back as he entered. He stopped just before Robb, his milky-white eyes staring down at him expectantly.

"I've just received news from the Queen. The Ironborn have invaded the North," he told Roose who raised an eyebrow in what was the extent of his reaction. "Victarion Greyjoy has been spotted nearing Moat Cailin with the entirety of the Iron Fleet."

"We've nearly succeeded in taking the West. All the Western strongholds are under our power and it is a matter of days before you declare victory on Casterly Rock," Roose reminded him.

"How many men do you have left at the Dreadfort?" Robb requested and Roose glanced up in thought.

"Enough to send to Winterfell at your request," he offered and Robb could see something alight in the man's haunting eyes. "Let me send my bastard to keep guard. He will command what men I have left in the North and repel any Ironmen who come close enough to tempt them."

"Very well. I don't see that we have much choice. I don't know how many men escaped the Blackwater, if any," Robb added. "I'd trust Selene to keep the North under her control if she had more men under her command. I want to keep her from traveling to the sea."

"The coast should not be the focus of her worries. They won't travel far enough North because the Wolfswood will give Winterfell steady coverage. They'll invade to Torrhen's Square where Your Grace's bannermen left in the North will make their stand."

"They're experienced enough, to be sure, but she will no doubt send many of our men South to hold Moat Cailin," Robb told Roose who frowned at the idea.

"Mallister is in the Riverlands. We should sent word to both him and Walder Frey to dispatch heavy guard to Moat Cailin. Mallister will send what boats he does have left after the ironborn." Roose seemed almost too calm, indifferent to this new information. But his demeanor was almost always as such.

"Send word to your bastard," Robb agreed though he felt skeptical about the idea of Ramsay Snow anywhere near Winterfell. His mother wouldn't like it, but as of now there was little choice. "I'll write to Selene and have her stay her plan of action."

"There is another matter, Your Grace, which I wished to discuss," Roose said, stepping forward. "This fight is dwindling down. No matter Stannis Baratheon's demise at the Blackwater, we still have Twyin Lannister's heir. If we were to-" Robb didn't let the man finish.

"Jaimie Lannister is the only reason my sister is still alive. If I have any hopes of seeing her freed, then we keep the Kingslayer alive. Once Casterly Rock has yielded, the Lannisters will have no choice but to return my sister."

"Very well, Your Grace."

There were few members of the council left in the West. Robb had sent his most trusted and experienced bannermen into the thick of the fighting to conquer the Westerlands bit by bit. Until they succeeded - or died - in battle, he would not ask them to retreat North. Morale was high, even after news of Stannis' failure in the capitol. He knew if he told them about the Ironborn now that they'd be anxious to go home. Robb wasn't planning to lie, but he was in no hurry to inform them either. He would send whomever he could spare to the North until he himself was free to ride on Winterfell and bring his sword to Theon.

He sat down at his table, reaching for sheet of parchment and began writing Selene to stay her action on Moat Cailin. He glanced to the right of the parchment, just past his hand where a dagger sat neatly nearby. It was Selene's dagger, the dagger she had sent to their betrothal as a gift to him. He remembered taking it, riding back to war with it in his satchel, and thinking that it was much too Baratheon of a dagger for a man to wear in battle. But the longer he looked at it now, he found it reminded him very much of Selene. It was dangerously beautiful, with a cold exterior. Each time he glanced at it he found something he'd never discovered before. Fine embellishments that were both regal and gallant.

He'd asked her, once, where it'd come from and she very nearly smiled and told him the story of her grandfather, Steffon Baratheon. As a child she had stolen it from his bedchambers, a story her father had told her like most of her encounters with her grandparents for which she was too young to remember. Steffon, who had been exceedingly disappointed in his son's inability to produce an heir, had expressed his distaste for Selene, whom he often referred to as a nuisance. However, upon finding out it was Selene who had taken the dagger from his bedside, he confronted the child, only to be nearly impaled by his own granddaughter, who laughed heartily whilst pointing it at him. This amused the man so greatly that Stannis swore the man grinned and told Selene that the dagger was hers. A few months later Steffon and Cassana perished in Shipbreaker Bay, all the while in sight of their fortress at Storm's End.

Robb had immediately offered to give the dagger back to her after hearing the story that seemed more sentimental than anything he'd ever heard her say. But she insisted he keep it, that it was her gift to him. And he therefore, kept it with him at all times.

Robb's letter to Selene was not a long one. He wrote with few pleasantries, but listed his instructions clearly. When he neared the end, he could not help but ask after her, trying to give her what assurances he could of how they would avenge both of their fathers. She wouldn't want assurances, but he thought perhaps writing them helped him as well.

There was little good news to report, only the same promise that tomorrow might bring victory. He had conquered enough keeps in the West to hold it from any Lannister counter attack. But he knew if he didn't take the Rock soon, that he would not only have Lannisters out for him, but Tyrells as well.

And this time, the enemy wouldn't have any imminent threat to stop them.

SELENE

"I have written to Jon Snow," she said softly and the woman's reaction was just as harsh as she had anticipated.

Catelyn's head whipped around from her place by the fire where she was stroking Bran's hair. Rickon had taken up a place on the fur run nearest to Selene though understanding her discomfort, he did not try and rest his head on her lap as he had mistakenly done two nights prior. Instead he had inched towards her, again and again until his small feet were just barely grazing Selene's leg. He was peacefully sleeping with his direwolf curled up around him.

"I beg your pardon?" she hissed quickly and Selene looked up from the sleeping child up at the woman whose eyes were full of fire.

"I thought it right that he know that his home was under attack. If the Night's Watch could lend any aid-" explained Selene but Catelyn's voice interrupted her.

"That was not your decision to make," the woman declared. "Jon Snow has taken the Black and therefore has severed any ties he may have once had with this family. He his not my son and Winterfell is no longer his home."

Selene eyed the woman curiously. It was true, she had known Jon Snow was Ned's bastard son and recalled that Robb had divulged his mother's discomfort in the boy's presence among her own children. Selene could understand discomfort, forgive it even for a short time. But Ned had chosen to raise the boy, to give him a home and care for him as was his duty. She found no fault in that. Had her own father had a bastard, perhaps she'd never have had so much responsibility now sitting on her shoulders.

"You may be upset with my decision, My Lady Stark, but I needed to guarantee the safety of Winterfell. With most of the King's men still in the Westerlands I have very little hope of defending the North without men to fight for it. If Jon can convince the Night's Watch's Lord Commander of our dire need, then perhaps I may be able to hold the King's seat long enough for it's holder to return to sit upon it."

She had been quiet, her words soft enough as not to disturb the two sleeping children. But Summer the direwolf did raise his head slightly and watched Selene with careful eyes. Angus too lifted his head but then quickly settled it back upon her lap and let the fire lull him back to sleep.

Selene spoke again.

"I grow weary of your distaste for me," she added. "I think it is time that you recognize that I am not a child to be easily manipulated by your cross demeanor. That is to say, you do not scare me."

Catelyn didn't speak at first, taken aback by Selene's boldness and Selene felt slight triumph rush through her. For the first time Lady Stark looked as though she were put in her place and Selene could see by the woman's features that she was not used to it.

"They won't let him leave," the woman finally said, her voice somewhat defeated. "And if he were to leave at his own free will, then they would hunt him down as a deserter. Robb would be obligated by honor to execute his own brother for desertion. You believe he will thank you for that?"

"I don't ask that he desert his vows. But I ask that he appeal to the authority on the Wall for help. Now is when we see where their loyalties lie. I am the rightful heir to the Baratheon throne and if they do not kneel to me, then they are of little use aren't they? We can't have Lannister sworn swords at our gates."

"You will claim the throne then? Now that your father has failed?"

Selene answered in the only way she knew how. "I must," she whispered. "It is not simply a matter of birthright. If I do not claim the Iron Throne then I allow the people of Westeros to bow down to a bastard pretender born of incest."

"So will you leave?"

"I can't very well leave with the Ironborn descending upon us, can I? And I certainly have no army to take King's Landing. Not yet. For now I will hold the North. And when Robb returns, I will remind Westeros of who their Queen is."

"With Mace Tyrell in Tywin Lannister's pocket?"

"Mace Tyrell may have sold his daughter to the Lannisters but I still have contacts. It is just a matter of reaching out to the right ones." But none of that mattered right now, she thought. "I cannot raise an army of followers until I can prove that I am a Queen worth following. So for now I will attend to the North. And then I will worry about my throne."

Her biggest fear had always been having to rule. Having to take up a throne that should have belonged to legitimate cousins and would only ever be a distant possibility in the back of her mind. But instead she was faced with it head on and if she did not stake her claim then the Baratheon name would fade, the line would forever be called into question and the blood of the Stag would die with her. Her father was ambitious but not charismatic. She feared that perhaps she too might not have what was needed to charm the people into aiding her cause.

But perhaps, she thought, if she could succeed in keeping the North from ruin, she could show them that she was a Queen of worth.

"I should tell you," Selene said then. reaching her hand out towards where Rickon's head was delicately laid out on the furs. She could not help but touch his light auburn hair at the nape of his neck where it curled slightly and she thought for a moment that he looked very much like Robb must have as a child. "I have made arrangements for your safety, should our defences fail," she assured. "You and the boys will be protected, I will see to that."

"And your own safety?" Catelyn inquired though Selene's eyes were still focused on Rickon's curl wrapped gently around her finger.

"Let me worry for this family," answered Selene. "I promised Robb I would."

She stood then, easing Angus off of her and he stretched as he stood to follow. She left the room, closing the door gently behind her as she and Angus set off into the corridor. Her chambers weren't far, but she walked slowly, counting each step as she walked. She could feel the cold chill on the stone walls, the ache in her chest with each step.

Aida and Alys were in her rooms, readying a hot bath and both stopped when she entered. Neither spoke, only bowed their heads as Selene made her way to her own fire. She stood there until she heard Aida's gentle voice beside her, beckoning her to the tub. Alys removed Selene's gown whilst Aida prepared her shift for bed. Selene then stepped into the hot water, her breath catching slightly at the intensity of it.

She could have washed herself, she thought. In fact, she willed herself to do it but both Aida and Alys chided her when she moved. So she sat there, Aida's fingers running through her long hair, smoothing it with oils she'd received as a wedding gift from the wife of one of Robb's bannermen. She was relaxed by the smell, the warmth of the water and the gentle movements of Aida washing her hair.

"My Lady," Alys' voice interrupted and Selene opened her eyes slightly to see the woman pause her washcloth. "You still have not bled this moon cycle."

"Yes I know," Selene replied offhandedly. "It has never happened before. The Maester has been busy with my letters but perhaps I should discuss with him the issue with when I can find a moment alone with him."

"But I have been wondering," Alys spoke. "You have been unwell these last several days. Each morning I find you sick and unable to break fast with the family." Aida's fingers stopped then as well. "Have you not considered, My Lady, that perhaps you are, with child?"

They were words that stung Selene as she tried to read Alys' expression. With child? Certainly not, she thought. Certainly she would know if she was carrying a child would she not? She tried desperately to remember her mother and the numerous times she had been with child with sons who would never be born. But suddenly she could not remember anything but a swollen belly and a weary temperament.

She glanced down at her stomach, touching the flesh below her belly button. She had not noticed the change in her own body, the skin that was no longer soft and fleshy. It did not give way when she applied pressure and the hardness was evident immediately. There was no denying that something had changed. But was something growing inside of her? A child?

"The timing would be most inopportune," she whispered with wide eyes but both Alys and Aida protested.

"No, My Lady, it would be joyous indeed," Aida encouraged, placing her hands on Selene's shoulders. "If you are with child, you could be carrying the King's son. His heir!"

"Yes and we are also facing an invasion of the North. How am I to hold Winterfell if I am to worry over a child?"

"But imagine how the North would rally if they knew their queen was carrying the future king?" Alys contended. "It could be exactly what the men need to ensure they give their all in your honor."

"If I am even with child," Selene argued, her voice rising as she stood and both Alys and Aida were suddenly very cautious as they helped her carefully out of the tub. "I will speak with the Maester and then decide how to proceed. If I am with child, no one can know. Not until we hear news of the King's victory in the West."

"But surely the King should know that he-" Aida appealed but Selene shook her head.

"Let the King focus on Casterly Rock and I will focus on Winterfell. If we both survive this war, then I will tell him about his child. Otherwise, no one can know, are we understood?" She asserted herself, imparting upon her maids the great need for secrecy if this was the hand she was dealt.

If she was with child the North may rally for her. But it would also paint an even larger target on her back. A queen vying for the Iron Throne was dangerous enough. But a Queen holding a potential heir to two kingdoms would be the nail in her coffin.

A/N: A bit short, a bit boring but also a bit necessary. More coming about the Battle of Blackwater, the siege at Casterly Rock and the Ironborn invasion. I hope you enjoyed, even if it was a little short and not too eventful. Thank you Immensely for all of the incredible feedback on the last few chapters. You are all so good to me and for that I am so grateful. I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds. Lola