SARAFINE III

Chatter and music filled the Great Hall of the Red Keep in celebration of Prince Joffrey's nameday. The prince was now fifteen and celebrating as if he were the King himself.

Sat at the high table were the royal party as per usual, King William and Prince Joffrey in the centre with their respective betrothed next to them on either side. The Queen Regent sat next to Princess Sarafine. Myrcella and Tommen remained seated with the handmaidens and Septa at a table below them.

Sarafine was worried about her William. In the weeks since his coronation they had barely seen each other. She heard the whispers of war and knew that her love was weighed down by the heaviness of the news. War councils took up most of his days and it was beginning to show in his face. He wasn't sad, just…exhausted. She missed him.

The last time they'd spoken was at a dinner a week past, but since his Uncle's capture, she'd seen so little of her King she worried he'd cast her aside. She tried to keep occupied in prayer and socialising, but he was all she could think of.

"Are you well, my King?"

"As well as one can be, princess," he leant back in his chair and sipped his wine.

"Is there any news of Ser Jaime?"

Will breathed deeply at that, "my uncle remains in the Dreadfort dungeons, last I heard," he exhaled, "we're doing everything we can but…it's dangerous,"

"I worry for you, Will," she reached for his arm.

"Don't burden yourself," he said, hardly looking at her. She lay her hand on his forearm.

"I don't have a choice,"

"You do," he objected, raising his arm from her touch to sip on his wine.

"Then it appears that I chose you, was I mistaken?" she snapped, forgetting who she was talking to, "I'm sorry, Will. I didn't mean that,"

"Don't be sorry…" he sighed, "I've not been good to you Sarafine. I should be sorry, if anyone,"

Sadness tinged his voice and she felt more guilty than any. He shouldn't have this on his shoulders now, but he did and he was trying so hard that he forgot to sit back and just be.

"You're the King," she whispered.

"I'm still yours," he said, taking her hand, "forgive me, please,"

"There is nothing to forg-" she began, interrupted by a shriek from the second Baratheon.

"Get that beast out of here!" Joffrey shouted, standing abruptly. William kept Sarafine's hand in his.

"My prince, Lady is no beast, she is my pet," Sansa tried to explain as the wolf strolled around the Hall.

"Did you mishear me?" the

"No, my lor-" she shook nervously.

"I am a prince!" he shouted, "you are not a princess, not until you wed me! Until then, you are nothing but a northern peasant! You and your wolf,"

Sarafine looked to the poor Lady Sansa; tears filled the young girls' eyes as her charming prince shouted at her, clearly more drunk than suitable for the occasion. The direwolf growled, sidling up to the high table.

"Down, Lady," she whispered shakily. William stood, releasing the hand of the princess.

"Brother," he gripped the prince's shoulder.

"What?" Joffrey turned and spat.

"Apologise to Lady Sansa," the King instructed, quiet enough for only the table to hear over the silence that filled the hall.

Joffrey turned away from his brother and took a seat again, leaving William alone in stance.

"The feast is over," William announced.

"It is not, more wine!" Joffrey commanded.

Cersei gripped Sarafine's hand gently, concerned as to what would follow. Joffrey could get angry, but so could William - and he wore the crown.

"You have had more than enough," the King spoke, plucking the cup from his brother's place.

"It's my name day and my feast," the prince whined, leaning back in his chair and looking over the eyes which stared at him, eventually returning his eyes to Will's.

"If it's in my halls, it's not your feast," Will spoke sternly.

Sarafine wished to grip his hand again but refrained. They were not one yet, this was not her place to intervene.

"Come, my child," Cersei rose and pulled the princess to her feet with her, "Lady Sansa," she beckoned and the girl got up, all the courage of a mouse. The Queen Regent gestured for her and soon took her hand, "it's high time we retire for the evening,"

The princess looked to her King before following his mother down from the High Table. William's eyes followed her trail and she sensed it.

"The feast is not over," Joffrey muttered from his seat.

"I am your King, brother. It's over," Will finished and the guests got up in a hurry, bowing and making way for the exit.

Lannister guardsmen followed the party of three as they made way for the Keep in silence. Sansa let out a sniffle from Cersei's right while Sarafine kept her eyes ahead of them. She figured that Joffrey would regret the outburst by morning, if his pride didn't get in the way. However, Lady Sansa may not forgive him regardless. He was cruel to her and he was cruel in front of everyone.

Is he ever kind to her at all? Sarafine wondered.

"Was William well?" the Queen Regent broke the silence.

"He's tired," Sara responded before reminding herself of their company, "but yes, he is as well as could be expected,"

"Good," Cersei continued, "he'll be needing you soon."

Sarafine took breakfast by herself in chambers the next morning, exhausted after the drama that the feast entailed. As much as she wished for William's contentment, she wished for Lady Sansa's. Seeing the girls porcelain face almost crack with tears hurt Sarafine. If Will had spoken to herself in such a way, she would've burst into a flood of weeps before he finished the insult. How must poor Sansa feel, Sara worried, a foreign girl alone in a foreign place? Truly, the princess was once the same, but the Baratheons and Lannisters had become her family too; she knew them better than her own blood - and held her affections as such.

The princess found herself at the young Lady Sansa's door in the evening, requesting that they dine together.

She may not be family yet, Sara decided, but she should be a friend.

"Princess Sarafine, please, come in," the girl said.

"My lady," she entered the chambers, "have you eaten yet?"

"No, I am to dine alone this evening," she said, sadly.

"As was I, may I join you?" Sara said with a smile.

"Of course, princess, sit, please,"

"Is the direwolf here?" the princess asked as she did.

"Yes, I can have her taken to the kennels, if it please-"

"There's no need, may I see her?"

Sansa called the wolf out of a corner in which it rested. The animal slinked out into the light, fascinating Sarafine. She'd never seen a direwolf. At Winterfell, the Stark children's pets looked like any other puppy but now - the wolf was the size of half a horse. A big horse. It's fur was mostly white, occasional spaces of grey and brown appearing on its back and snout. Deep brown eyes that mirrored Sara's own stared into her.

"You may pet her if you want," Sansa brought it to the lap of the princess. The wolf sat, its breath audible in the otherwise silent room. Sarafine's reached for the head of the wolf, her fingers running gently through the deep, silky fur.

"She is beautiful," the princess breathed as the wolf became comfortable with her touch.

"Prince Joffrey doesn't think so," Sansa said, standing, "I'm sorry, forgive me, Princess. I shouldn't have said that,"

"You may speak truth to me, Lady Sansa, I understand what the prince can be like," Sarafine offered, "I've known Joffrey since he was four years of age," she continued stroking the head of the animal, "he's never been easy."

Servers brought in food and Lady returned to her bed in a corner by Sansa's. The meal looked exquisite; a roast chicken baked in lemons and sage. The princess felt her mouth water at the sight. The servers left and the girls were alone again.

"Do you think he likes me? At all?" Sansa asked, nervously almost.

Sarafine breathed, choosing her words carefully. She could not speak for the prince, but she could offer an opinion.

"I think so, my lady, he finds you pretty - I know that much. But you must remember…Joff has never had a lady of his own. William always had me, Joff is rather…new to the idea of romance. Give him time,"

"But the feast…last night,"

"Last night was nothing more than the wine, sweet girl. Put it out your mind as best you can,"

"He called me a peasant,"

"Joffrey can be cruel, no doubt about it, my lady. But you must try to forgive him, at least, whether he requests it or not. He will have his outbursts…but he will learn to love in time, I believe,"

"Sometimes…I fear he loves you more than he'll ever love me...it's so stupid," Sansa admitted.

"Lady Sansa,"

"You're so beautiful,"

"As are you, my lady! Just look at your hair and your eyes. You are without a doubt one of the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms," Sarafine complimented, not a shred of a lie in any word she spoke. Sansa was a beauty, even for one so young. She would blossom, Sarafine saw it, "besides, princes like Joffrey only get matched with the most beautiful girls, just look at the Queen! She is more beautiful than any,"

"She is," Sansa smiled, "I-"

The door was opened by a guard.

"Princess, my lady, the King is here to see you,"

"Send him in," Sarafine spoke, standing to meet her love. What did he want here?

"Your Grace," the girls greeted as he entered.

Sara looked at him a moment and suddenly he looked more fine than she'd ever seen him. His dark curls were free from the crowns constraints, tousled by his cheeks and deepening his eyes. He greeted the both of them.

"What brings you here, my King?" she asked, curious.

"Princess, I came to ask a walk with you," he started, "but if you are busy,"

"We're just finishing, Your Grace," Sansa said, smiling to the princess.

"May I escort you, then?" Will held his arm.

"You may," she smiled at her King, "goodnight Lady Sansa, I shall see you on the morrow,"

"Goodnight princess, Your Grace," the girl farewelled with a nod.

Sarafine allowed him to lead her out of the room and into the hallways of Maegor's Holdfast.

"Are you well, my princess?" he asked her as she rested her hand on his bicep.

"I am," she smiled, "and you, my king?"

"Well," he said genuinely, "I am well,"

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this walk?"

"Can't a King take a walk with his princess?" he smiled.

"A King is busy with many appointments,"

"And his Queen-to-be is more important than any of them,"

Will always had a way with words. She envied his gift sometimes; he always knew what to say to draw her in further, not that he need try - she adored him just as he was.

"Where are we headed, my King?"

"I want to show you something," is all that he answered, "you'll see,"

"Shall I close my eyes?"

"No, princess," he began, "not yet,"

They continued through the halls of the Red Keep, arm in arm like King and Queen yet talking with all the excitement of children on their namedays. Guards followed behind them while they did; crossing the drawbridge and stepping into the lower courtyard.

"Tell me, Will, what's it like?"

"What is what like?"

"Ruling…being a King,"

"In truth…I don't feel any different. It is different, I know. Very. But I don't feel different,"

"Good,"

"Good?"

"It would be a great shame to see you change because a crown sits atop your head, if I may be so bold,"

"Of course you may," he laughed, "thank you, my princess,"

"Has the Prince recovered from his…celebrations?" she asked, remembering the event that ended their time together a night prior.

"Indeed, his pride however…I can't be sure of that," he jested.

Their laughing together was a welcome sound to the ears of the princess, after all that had occurred since the Hand's Tourney…everything had become so serious, as was expected. Nevertheless, hearing William's laugh was a sound as sweet as honey.

If only it could be like this all the time, she sighed internally.

"It's nice to see you smile," she commented, watching him as he watched his feet move along the ground. The princess looked up and they were at the gates to the City.

"I'll need you to close your eyes now," he took her hands.

"Are you sure this is safe? Are we even allowed out here?"

"We're allowed anything, my love," he reminded her.

Her heart fluttered at her new title, my love. She willed him to say it again but thought best to not mention it, though the words rolling off his tongue in her direction meant more than they would from anyone else; she knew it. Will was no different from any other man, and she hoped he would stay that way. His sense of adventure remained, and suddenly Sarafine couldn't close her eyes quick enough.

Take me away, my king, she whispered in her mind, wherever you wish to go.

His left arm held her hip and his right hand directed hers forward. He walked her all the way to where they were going, though she couldn't tell their destination if she tried. He guided her as if it were a dance; carefully, gracefully and gently. His touch burned through her dress and all she wished was that the Kingsguard accompanying them would disappear into the night so she could be alone with her King.

They travelled along a path somewhere, and then up some stairs. The princess heard the ocean and its soft rush and her butterflies had returned once more as he released her arm and moved his right one to her right hip, gripping her softly in between his hands and placing his head next to hers.

"Open your eyes, my love," he whispered into her ear.

And there it was, the Blackwater in all its glory. The water was as deep as the night which laid over them, reflecting each star in the sky and house on the hill. She'd grown up looking at this ocean; but had never seen it from here. The Iron Gate held the best view of the Bay in the city and in her eleven years of living there - she'd never stepped foot on its battlements, until now. She didn't need him to tell her, she knew just where they were. And it was the only place she wanted to be.

"Will," she breathed, her hands falling over his and holding them close.

"Is it all you had hoped, princess?"

"That and more," she turned to face the King who had gifted her with the moment.

"In truth, my love, I didn't just bring you here to walk. I wanted to apologise,"

"My love,"

"I have neglected you, Sarafine," he whispered, "I have failed to put you first, and I won't do it again…so I must ask you something,"

"Will,"

"I've never thought to ask you before, until last night. But you deserve to be asked, you deserve a real choice, my love," he spoke, placing his hand on her cheek.

She didn't know what was to come, but when it did, she realised that she should've seen it coming all along. After all, it's what she was here for.

"So I ask you now, Princess Sarafine Martell, will you do me the honour of choosing to be my Queen? Forever and always?"

"I decided long ago, my love, forever and always, I am yours," she confessed.

And for the first time since the day she met him in Sunspear; King William's lips pressed to hers with all the gentleness in the world, as if the gods had fitted them together. His hands drew her waist closer and she allowed hers to fall on his neck.

Forever and always, she repeated in her mind, I am yours.