Wolf in Lion's Clothing

Chapter 7: The tides of change

AN: It's been a month in-universe since the last chapter

His eyes were sunk in deep pits, his close-cropped beard no more than a shadow across his hollow cheeks and bony jawbone. Yet there was power in his stare, an iron ferocity that told Asha this man would never, ever turn back from his course.

Asha Greyjoy on Stannis Baratheon, from A Dance with Dragons: Chapter 42

"This is Stannis Baratheon. The man will fight to the bitter end and then some"

Tywin Lannister to Grand Maester Pycelle, A Storm of Swords: Chapter 72

Cersei

There was something quite familiar and comforting about Stannis Baratheon. She couldn't quite place the reason why. It could be argued that the man was the same now as he would be in the future, years from now. Jon's memories were of the balding king, the last stag, with black eyes that belied the fire of his will to do his duty. The young man in front of her now was comely, not as handsome as Robert or as Renly would be. He was not a king, yet his stature was hard and firm, his hair was full, and his toned muscles belied that he was just as fit as his older brother, yet he did not enjoy the same pleasure for battle as him. It was his eyes however, that were the same. They burned with that same fire, brighter even, likely because he had not spent years working from Dragonstone in a loveless marriage and a brother who didn't care for him much.

She thought as she sat in his office near the docks, where the Lord of Storm's End spent much of his time in the capital. It was obvious to everyone in the Royal Court that the younger Baratheon would much rather be at ancestral holdfast of the Storm Kings of old, rather than at the dirty, crowded city, but unless the new royal administration decided to just keep every Targaryen official in order to keep the realm running, he and other loyal lords were taking up the brunt of the work in the meantime.

The man in question was seated across her, his attention on a report from his most loyal knight, Ser Davos Seaworth. The Knight of Onions had dropped it off before leaving the room, and while the man was younger and less greying, the man had been Jon's close ally in the future, and it made her smile to see him again.

"I have noticed Lords Velaryon and Redwyne are in the city." The Stormlord stated factually. The man had little love for courtly pretenses, something that Cersei found difficult, but Jon found quite comforting. Cersei would instinctually use her charms to get something from a man, but Jon clamped down on that, he was not a man who would fall for her allure.

"The position of Master of Ships is still officially vacant." The statement was direct without being explicit. House Velaryon had held the title for hundreds of years since the Conquest, while the Redwynes had the largest fleet in the Reach. It was obvious that the Redwynes smelled blood in the water and the Valyrian house and longtime allies of the Dragon Kings wanted to curry favor with the current administration as much as possible to defend their claim to the title.

The Nobility saw Stannis Baratheon holding the position as a temporary measure and were sure that the Stag King would choose someone to take the position from his brother soon. Even minor and lesser lords with only a single ship to their name were in the city, brandying their influence, at least as much as they had. She and Jon Arryn had spoken on it many times and were, surprisingly, in agreement. They could not agree on a single candidate, so they had instead decided to let Robert decided from a list of the best. They had given Robert three choices, the aforementioned Reach Lord, the silver-haired ally to the Targaryens, or his own brother.

The man had made a show of considering the merits of each but she was never in doubt that he would choose Stannis, and now the two were doing their best to deal with the situation. The Redwyne fleet blockaded Shipbreaker Bay during the Siege of Storm's End, it wouldn't do to reward them with the entire Royal Fleet. The Velaryons had done surprisingly little during the war. There were no large naval battles that took place, although the Hand of the King had blustered that they had attacked Gulltown during the opening months of the Rebellion, when Arryn had refused the Mad King's orders to bring him the young Stag and Wolf. Robert had crossed them off his list when he was reminded that it was their ships who protected Dragonstone and spirited away the Targaryen prince and princess.

"Robert would like you to join us for dinner this evening. Lord Velaryon will be in attendance, as will his daughter." She spoke, standing.

"I'm busy. One of the ships drifted into the harbor this morning with-"

"It was not a request my Lord." She said with a smile. "And please, I am not fool to be thrown off with a few excuses."

"My apologies." The austere lord replied after a few moments of silence. "I will attend." He said as he ground his teeth.

And that was that.

Until she heard a loud shout outside followed by sounds of a struggle. Suddenly the door was thrown open and she could see the silhouettes of three men in the doorway.

"Death to the Usuper Queen!" she heard before the three men ran toward her.

She froze. Jon Snow was a King, the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Yet Cersei Lannister was a young woman barely 19 namedays old, and all she had seen of combat were tourneys of knights in gilded and shiny armor, their lances blunted and their shields perfect. These men smelled. They wore little but thin shirts and mismatched pieces of armor. Their eyes were wild. 'They're drunk' she mused, almost irrationally. She remained frozen.

There was a painful wrenching backwards and she hit the desk with her behind. Appearing in front of her, her goodbrother stood with a small knife. He intercepted the first assailant, his club sailing harmlessly past him as he dodged, before plunging the dagger into his heart. The second swung his own knife, a crude butcher's blade. The Baratheon Lord stepped forward into the man, whose drunken stance meant he couldn't react in time to the nobleman's shove backwards.

The man landed on the waiting blade of Ser Lyle Crakehall. She hadn't noticed the Westerman come in and stab the third man in the back, his blade now piercing two of them, including the man Stannis had pushed.

Stannis. He was turned to her, his eyes with concern but his face passive and guarded. He had been the one to pull her back towards the desk and towards safety.

"Are you all right your grace?" he asked. The Westerman behind him drew his blade from the carcasses and turned in a defensive posture before entering the room.

"Yes… Yes. Thank you." She whispered out before embracing the brunette Stormlord. He grunted but did not deny her.

"My apologies your grace. It was my fault. There were ten of the dogs. Three kept me busy outside, while the rest attacked Lord Stannis's men. I allowed these men in by my incompetence." Ser Lyle apologized. He wasn't bleeding but he was breathing heavily.

"No. The fault is mine. This is my office. They shouldn't have been allowed to breach it so wantonly. I shall conduct a full investigation into this your Grace." The Stormlord said.

"Cersei"

"Excuse me?"

"Cersei. You are my goodbrother, I am your family. Don't call me that, not now." She whispered while still embracing the man. Gods she hated this. She was so weak, so feeble!

"… You're safe Cersei. You're safe." Her goodbrother replied, with a softer tone than before and patting her feebly on the back with a single hand, obviously uncomfortable but genuinely wanting to help.

She heard footsteps in the hallway and steeled herself. She let the panic flow from her and took a deep breath before releasing the temporary master of ships.

As Ser Davos appeared in the doorway with, presumably, one of his sons and a bloody sword she resumed her queenly posture.

"No Ser Lyle. How can I fault the man who helped to protect me? You did much for me and for that I thank you." She smiled sweetly at the Westerlander and she could swear his cheeks tinged red underneath the Kingsguard helmet.

"Goodbrother, I thank you for saving my life. My husband and I could not ask for a more faithful and steadfast Lord than you." She smiled at the man genuinely. "Now, I ask that I be escorted back to the Red Keep, and that the King be informed."

The next hour was a blur. One of Stannis's men was dead, a loyal man whose family would be given a pension, if not by the crown, then by Stannis's own coffers. Cersei had assured him that he would speak to the Master of Coins herself to secure it. A few Baratheon Men-at-Arms and Ser Lyle cleared the road for her palanquin, with Stannis and his own personal men accompanying her.

In the Red Keep, she waited in her Solar with Stannis. Robert wasn't anywhere to be found and she was worried. "I felt so scared Stannis. Like… Like the Stranger had come for me." She admitted after gulping a goblet of Dornish Red. An unladylike action, but if Cersei couldn't trust her own goodbrother, who could she trust?

"Peace Cersei. The Stranger has not come for you yet. Perhaps after a long life surrounded by your children and grandchildren, but not today, and not soon…" the man said awkwardly. He was never the most sociable man, but he at least made the effort.

"Where is Robert? Do you think they attacked him as well?" She was spiraling into the abyss of panic.

"Ser Barristan would never allow anything to harm him, and Ser Nestor Royce is a capable knight." Stannis spoke up, seeing what was happening. "Focus on what you know. The Grand Maester is coming. He will check on you and see if you are well. Robert is fine, you know as well as I do that he could take care of drunken attackers any day."

She calmed a little. The man's singular tone helped to calm her in a strange way. He barely let any emotion through, like a commander who never stopped acting like he was on battlefield.

"Your Grace? It is the Grand Maester who has come to see to you." Ser Lyle Crakehall's voice chimed in through the doorway.

"Please. Allow him inside."

The old man doddered his way inside with an unusual amount of speed. "Your Grace! Do you feel alright?" He asked, concerned. The master was a Lannister man through and through, which Cersei was very much thankful for sometimes.

"The assailants were not able to touch me, thanks to the valiant efforts of Ser Lyle and of my goodbrother." The older man just nodded and beckoned her to sit down while he made some examinations.

It took a few minutes of poking and prodding before the Grand Maester seemed to perk up and look at her thoughtfully.

"Your grace, have your breasts been more tender lately?" The sudden question seemed to make Stannis go a little red in the face and attempt to excuse himself.

"Actually, they have been feeling a little sore lately when I touch them. Is something the matter? What does this have to do with the attack?" Cersei asked, a little worried.

"Well. It doesn't have anything to do with the attack your grace, however-"

The maester was cut off by the slamming open of the door, which startled Stannis enough for him to place his hand on his sword hilt, until he saw who it was.

"Cersei!" The King bellowed as he entered the room abruptly almost knocking the grand maester over in his surprise.

The Baratheon king moved over to her with a worried expression before addressing the Grandmaester. "I heard what happened. Is she hurt?"

"The 'She' you speak of is right here Robert. Do not speak about me while I'm right here." Cersei said with a little annoyance in her voice. Thought their relationship had been getting better, there were still moments where Robert was a grating influence on both aspects of Cersei.

"You are completely healthy my lady, there seems to be no effect the attack had on you-"

"Thanks to Stannis." Cersei interrupted with a smile and a nod towards the younger Baratheon, whose only response was turning his head to hide his blush. Robert looked at the two with a strange look.

"Yes, of course. Thanks to Lord Stannis and Ser Lyle." The Lannister toady finished. "But there is something else that I noticed during my examination."

"Well?! What is it man?!" Robert asked as the grandmaester took a few moments to continue. Cersei wondered whether the old man routine was an act or a genuine disabling feature of the maester. The man was actually old after all. Even so, the man was still capable enough to provide medical aid to the Royal Family, and both aspects within Cersei were just as impatient as Robert to know if there was something wrong with her.

"The Queen is pregnant." He finished with a harrumph.

The silence in the room was deafening for the next few moments, only broken when Robert whooped and grabbed his wife by the shoulders.

"Pregnant! Cersei you're pregnant!" He stood around and grabbed his brother by the shoulders and gave him a hug. The normally emotionless Stannis Baratheon was too stunned to complain.

'Pregnant' The word bounced around the shared mind within Cersei, and something seemed to snap. There was a stinging pain in his head. Her head. Their head. He put a hand to her head now and tried to grab at the source, only for his head to hurt even more, a ringing noise now appearing in her ears. His ears. No. Her ears.

'Gods. What is happening?' The Queen thought. The queen's body started to feel faint and started wavering to the sides, darkness started to take over his, no, her vision. Robert rushed to support his wife as she fell unconscious, the dark abyss giving her a blissful respite from the pain.

"Cersei! Cersei!"

That's it for this Chapter. There's gonna be something big for next chapter. There's gonna be some angst and drama.

As a side note, starting from this chapter onwards I'll be crossposting this on my AO3 (Archive of our own) account under the same pen name. If you're reading this on AO3, I started posting this on originally.

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