A/N: Another chapter for your viewing enjoyment. Hopefully this was out quick enough for you not to hate me.

Draedon POV

I hate that I am used to this feeling now. This feeling of being powerless. Of being weak.

I hate it.

First Jon Arryn, then Joffrey, and now my own father. All mine to protect, and I failed. I failed them all.

The sad thing is that I am so used to feeling this way now, that I feel awkward when I do not feel like this. When I feel something new. Although, there is one emotion that almost overpowers the rest. Anger. I have so much anger that I do not even feel anything else but that, and it is a strange sensation. But not one that I can get used to. I have to get rid of it before it makes me do something that I will regret.

So that is why I am here on the training ground now, instead of preparing for my own crowning that takes place on the morrow. Trying to release this feeling of hatred and anger.

I clench my teeth and thrust my bastard sword at my target, only for it to sidestep out of my reach. I continue my movements and swing it to the side, just to get caught on the steel of my target's blade. I get shoved back, and I can feel my body beginning to burn from over exertion. We have been at this for close to two hours, and my movements have only gotten sloppier since we started. My eyes are blurred and my movements hurried, as my anger is eating away at me. I can barely see clearly, but I know that I can not stop my attack. My opponent can not see my weakness.

I swing as hard as I can in an overhead swing, that gets easily deflected. I parry the swing that is aimed at my side by my opponent. I spin to my left, and aim low, only to get kicked to the ground. I twist my body so that my side takes the brunt of the damage, which turns out to be a horrible decision, as my ribs smash into the ground very painfully. I can feel the air leave my body, and all I want to do is cry out, but I doubt that any sound would come. I try to get up from the ground, but I can not. I just can't.

My target kicks my sword out of my hand and far away from me. He sheaths his own sword while he stares down at me. No emotion shows on his face, but his eyes gives away his concern. As minor as it is, it is still there.

"Are you hurt, Your Grace?" He asks me gradually. I look into his eyes and just continue to wheeze. He smirks down at me.

"Fuck you, Sandor." I croak out at his stupid smirk. If anything, my words just make it grow even more.

"That is the response I was looking for." He just towers over me as I turn to lay on my stomach, but is looking up at the sky. "But we are done for the day."

"No." I try to say with as much conviction as possible, which isn't much. "Not until I win." He does not even turn to me when he speaks.

"You have only truly beat me just a few times, and I do not see it happening again today. Besides, it is about time for you to stop. Your coronation is on the morrow and we do not need the new King so battered and broken that when he kneels for the crown to be placed on his head, he never rises again due to being too weak."

"Then I will stand for the crowning so that that may never happen." I speak slowly, as my lungs regain breath even slower.

"Then your weak fucking knees will buckle beneath you." He laughs deeply.

"I do not care for your words, Sandor. It is your steel that is asked for, not your damn advice." As I finish the sentence, I lunge for the sword in his sheathe.

My attempt is halted rather quickly, when a swift knee connects with my already weakened and battered ribs. Pain wracks my entire body and I drop like a stone to the ground.

"We are done for the day." Sandor speaks down to my prone body. "You need a bath and to get dressed."

"Not until I win." I say in an uneven tone, as I try to steady my breathing. Sandor just stares at me.

"Is this really about winning a spar, your grace? Or is it something else?" I look away as his burned face never leaves my form.

I push myself onto all four of my limbs, ribs burning like wildfire. "I have to win. I have to get stronger." I choke back the tears that are threatening to fall from my stupid weak eyes.

Silence is his reply. At first, I hear nothing, not even his breath. If I did not know any better, I would have thought that he left, but I never heard his footsteps so I know he is just standing there; staring at me. Seconds go by before something happens. Sandor takes a few steps towards me and kneels in front of me. I hear a sigh leave his mouth, before a hand rests on my back.

"Draedon, I understand that you are hurting. You have had a few rough moons, I acknowledge that, but at the same time you have to understand something." My watery blue eyes meet his sharp grey ones. "Sometimes people just fucking die. You have to accept that and move on."

"It is not just their deaths, Sandor." I almost roar at him. If I startled him, he doesn't allow it to show on his scarred face. "This weight now rests on my chest..." I pause, as I try to right my breathing. "And it is crushing, Sandor." His name, just a whisper as it passes my lips. "One million people, in this city alone, are now looking at me for guidance. All the men, women, and children of the Seven Kingdoms are looking at me, are depending on me to get them through the dark times, and I am not ready for it." Sandor is quiet through my rant, staying by my side loyally, just like his namesake. "I mean, how in the Seven Hells am I supposed to be ready for it, when I do not even have my own advisors? Or Kingsguards members that I trust?"

Sandor cocks his unmarred brow at me. "Do you think your father was ready by for being King? No, he was not. Nobody would ever be ready for shit like this, Draedon. But you are the one that has been preparing for this. You are the one that is closest to being ready. And in a few years, you will look back at this moment and scoff at how much of a craven you were."

I smile at that before it falls again. He stands to his full height and turns to look around us, to see who is there. He kneels back down to my level. "As for the White Cloaks, they can always be replaced." His raspy voice carries significantly through the air.

I scoff at his words. "The Kingsguard is for life, you can not just release them, Sandor." I condescendingly say to him, in a hushed tone.

"Not released, Draedon." His grey eyes peering deep into my own blue ones, cutting deep into me. As if he peering into my own soul. "Replaced."

Sansa POV

Ever since the bells have rung to signify that the King has died, there has been a somber feeling throughout the capital, especially in the Red Keep. Father is frantically scurrying around for reasons unknown to his children. He seems especially worried about something, but when asked about it, he just shakes his head and tells us it is not our concern. Arya and myself still try to get it out of him, but he has yet to release anything to us.

Speaking of Arya, she has really been deep into her dance lessons. I hear her in her room at night, practicing. She falls a lot and hurts herself, which leads me to believe she is exceptionally terrible at it. Which makes me smile some, to know I am still better than her at being a lady.

But it also makes me realize how empty my life is. A few months ago, I was betrothed to a Prince, I had Lady to keep me company at all times, and everything seemed to be great. And then everything became terrible. Now the only company from home that I have consistently is Jeyne and Septa Mordane.

I miss Winterfell, my home. I miss my mother. I miss Robb. I miss Bran and Rickon. I just miss everyone from there. I miss the snow that falls and the way it builds on the ground. I try to remedy this feeling in my chest when I think of home, by going to the Godswood here in the Red Keep. Jeyne usually accompanies me there, just like she is today.

Father made two guards follow us there, I suppose to make sure we do not get attacked. Jeyne and I make small talk on our walk there, while the guards are about ten paces behind us. We finally make it to the Godswood, but see an unexpected sight when we enter it.

Sitting on a bench, with his head in his hands, is the Crown Prince. Well, I think he's the new King now actually. I see the Hound standing off to the side, he looks at us for a brief moment before he turns his attention to the guards behind us, he then places his hand on his sword. Our guards do the same and the three of them just stare at each other. The Prince looks at the Hound, but turns his blue eyes in our direction.

He stands immediately. "My Ladies, I was not expecting to see you." He bowed to us, face flushed with a tight smile on his face.

Jeyne and I curtsy back to him. "It's our fault, your grace. We did not think anybody would be here." I answer for the both of us, while Jeyne smiles shyly and blushes furiously.

He turns towards his guard and shakes his head lightly. The Hound releases his grip on his sword, but continues to stare at my guards. The Prince releases a heavy breath, followed by a small chuckle.

"I have to apologize for Sandor, he is a bit untrusting of people. Especially people with swords." He flashes a beautiful smile of perfect teeth. I can only look away with a blush on my face, same as Jeyne. "I do not believe that we have formally met, so please allow me to properly introduce myself."

He takes just a few strides to cover the distance between him and us. I can hear Jeyne's breath hitch as he nears. He flashes another dazzling smile, before he bows once more and offers his hand to me. I immediately place my hand on his.

"I am Draedon Baratheon, first born son of Robert and Cersei Baratheon. And I apologize that it took this long to finally make your acquaintance, Lady Stark." He gently places his lips to make knuckles, and I feel my knees become weak. I can feel my face burning as hotly as a hearth in winter.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, your grace." He smiles and drops my hand, and I instantly wish that he didn't release it. He turns his attention to Jeyne and moves in front of her.

He bows to her and offers his hand, which she accepts straightaway. He brushes her knuckles with his lips, like he did with me.

"I am deeply saddened that I have never met a beauty such as you before now, my Lady." Jeyne smiles brightly with a face as red as my hair. She curtsies to him and mumbles her greetings. If Septa Mordane were here, she would be most displeased with Jeyne's actions.

The Prince turns his gaze back on me and releases a deep breath, before he takes a step back towards the bench. He throws a brief glance towards the Hound before his vision is back on us.

"Lady Stark, I know that it is a bit past due, but I would like to offer my condolences for the loss of your direwolf. Her name was Lady, if I can remember right." His sapphire eyes are staring at me with a questioning gaze.

I nod my head slowly. "It is very understandable, your grace. You were going through the pain of losing a loved one as well. So I'd like to offer my condolences to you, not just for King Robert," I shudder a breath just thinking about the next words. "But for Prince Joffrey as well." I give a tight lipped smile.

The future King tilts his head to one side, closes his eyes, and releases a breath. He opens them again, "This was no chance meeting, my Ladies, I must confess. You see I needed an excuse to speak to you, and what better way than by running into you." He smiles a smile that warms my heart. "I needed to meet you, and offer my condolences. Hopefully, help create a relationship that will last for decades." When he spoke the last part, he used over exaggerated hand gestures that I could not help but to giggle at.

"But now I am curious about something." I nod for him to continue. "What do you come here for? For prayer? For the peace? Or, perhaps, because you miss your home?" Surprisingly, Jeyne answers.

"I come for prayer, while she is here for the last reason." She began to trail off as soon as the Prince's gaze was upon her. She blushed once again and looks to her feet. The Prince just smiles once again.

"So for prayer and for home." He nods his head as he speaks. "Tell me about Winterfell, I mean if you have the time." His eyes are just so captivating, that all I can do is smile and nod.

His smile grows even larger, before he abruptly spins on his heel and walks away. I did not understand what he was doing until he sat on the bench that he was on when we came here. He pats the spots on both sides of him, that large smile still on his face. Jeyne all but runs to the spot on his left, but I was taught better than that. No matter the excitement that I feel in my chest, I casually walk to the spot on his right and sit down.

And so for the next hour, Jeyne and I told the Prince all about Winterfell. About some of our fondest memories of home. We spoke about our families, and the huge Weirwood tree located in the Godswood. We talked about the hot springs underneath the keep. About lessons from Septa Mordane and even about Jeyne's father, Vayon. The Prince never once looked uninterested. In fact, he was the one who kept asking questions. All with a smile on his face.

"I must visit Winterfell some time soon. It sounds like an amazing experience." I almost squealed with joy when he said that. "But King's Landing is just as spectacular as Winterfell, especially with the proper guide. It would have to be a person that was born here. Someone who knows the nicest areas. Someone who is named Baratheon." His finger tapping his chin, as if he's thinking about something.

"So you are a proper guide then, your grace?" Jeyne asks him, with a small smile on her face.

"Oh, well I guess I am. Would you look at that. Well if you Ladies would like a tour of the city someday, then I would be happy to oblige you in that endeavor." He says with a bright smile that lit up the entire Godswood it seemed.

I look at Jeyne, who is staring at me with pleading eyes. "Well, your grace, if you have the time now, we would love to have that tour." Jeyne nods enthusiastically at him, while he continues to smile.

"Well if that's what you two want, then who am I to deny you that." He stands from the bench and offers his arms to us, which Jeyne immediately accepts. I accept it as well, but with more grace than Jeyne.

We begin walking towards the exit, while the guards came with us fall behind the us. The Hound follows us too, farther behind than our guards.

"First stop, the Sept of Baelor." The Prince begins with the tour and I smile.

I feel so happy being in his company. I haven't smiled this much since Lady died. But all it took is one conversation with the Prince to make me forget about everything. To make me not miss home so much. I can get used to the South if I can build a relationship with the Prince.

Cersei POV

"Why were you escorting the Stark girl through the city?" I ask my eldest cub, who doesn't even look my way, or away from his own reflection.

He tilts his head side to side. "Do you think that I should cut my hair?" He grips his hair and draws it to the front of his white tunic. His dark mane contrasts beautifully with the pure white tunic that he is wearing. Myrcella is combing it while he stands there in front of the mirror in his room. She can barely reach his hair, due to the height difference between them. So one of the handmaidens placed a stool down for her to stand on.

"Do not ignore me, Draedon. I asked a question, I expect an answer, especially from my children." Myrcella looks at me when I say this, I match her look with a raised eyebrow of my own. She looks away with a small blush on her face from being caught looking.

Draedon looks at me using the mirror, so as to not enact the ire of his little sister, most like. My children's tight relationship warms my heart. "I believe you answered your own question, mother. I was escorting her through the city, just like you said." He smirks at me. He has the audacity to smirk at me. My cheeky little cub.

"Do not pretend to be ignorant. Why were you doing that in the first place, Draedon?" He continues to stare at me using the mirror, before he releases a chuckle.

"Cella, I think it's time for you to leave." She gasps, before poking out her bottom lip at him before turning it towards me. I only stare at her for a few seconds until she understands that I'm not backing down on this. She turns back to her brother with the same look. He breaks almost immediately. "We can finish this later, so please leave. I will find you as soon as me and mother are done speaking. Promise."

Myrcella stops pouting and starts smiling as she leaves the room gracefully. As soon as the door closes, Draedon's smile drops from his handsome face. The frown that lines his face makes him seem older than he really is. Although I am glad that he shows how he truly feels around me now, I just wish it was a different emotion that I see from him. Something has to change, I want my little cub back.

"Father and Lord Stark were brothers, in all but blood. At least that is how father explained it." He walks over to his table and pours himself a cup of water. "I did not travel to Winterfell with you, so I never had a chance to bond with Lord Stark's son. I do not have that reassurance that when he takes over, he will stay true and loyal to the crown. So I have to make that bond with Sansa. If a few smiles and a tour of her new city secures that, I do not see an issue with that, mother"

He takes a piece of raw meat from a plate in the center of the table, and throws it to his monstrous beast that lays out on his balcony. The beast chews it in just a few bites, and it disgusts me to watch it happen. Draedon just smiles as he watches.

"Why do you keep that filthy mongrel?" I ask, harsher than I meant to be.

He turns to look at me. His eyes pierce me. "Ruby is not a filthy mongrel. She is much more than any pet as well." He walks over to the man eating beast and begins to rub it behind its ears. "She my best friend, my fiercest ally. She is my strength through the tough nights." He sits on the ground beside the beast, and leans his back on it. All the while, rubbing it continuously. I can hear the damn monster begin to purr as he rests his head on its back. "So please refrain from insulting her while in my company."

I can only stand there silently as he relaxes on his pet. I hate that he loves the monster. I wish he could see the danger that it could bring if it gets loose from his keeping. It could harm Myrcella or Tommen, or worse, it could kill them. Perhaps I could think of something that will make Draedon get rid of it. But we have more important topics to discuss than the mongrel he calls Ruby.

"Draedon, we have something else to talk about." He tilts his head at my statement, his hair moving with the motion and falling in front of his face. "You will be crowned soon," his expression darkens at the mention of the word, "which means that you will have to take a wife soon as well. We should talk about your best choices for marriage." His right eye twitches at the word 'marriage'. "Do you have anyone in mind that you feel partial to already?"

My son just stares at me for a moment, before he sighs and runs a hand through his long hair. "To be completely honest, mother, I have not exactly given it a lot of thought." He shrugs his broad shoulders, before he smirks at me. "But I suppose Sansa is as good a choice as any." He smirk turns into a large grin when he sees my narrowed eyes. "She really is a pretty girl. Our children would be absolutely adorable. What, with their auburn hair and bright blue eyes, can you not just imagine it, mother?" I can imagine it, and I do not appreciate the image.

"She is a choice, that is for sure, but perhaps there is a better one out there." He smiles and nods his head.

"Perhaps there is." His smile loses its mirth, as he begins to really think. "There is Margaery Tyrell, I suppose." He shrugs and I grimace at the thought. I do not like the girl, not one bit. She would try to take my cub away from me, take the power that I have acquired, fom years of suffering Robert and his asinine behavior. I do not like that. "There is Arianne Martell, too. But I doubt that she, or her family, would be very receptive to the idea of marriage into our family."

I agree with that statement, wholeheartedly. I can not imagine that the Martells would like the idea too much. "The promise of power makes people do strange things, Draedon." He looks at me with a strange look in his eyes.

"So I will not know if my future wife is marrying me for me, or for the crown." I chuckle lightly at him. He blinks at me in surprise. "Is there something amusing, mother?"

"They will marry you for the crown, Draedon, no question about it. I am sorry, but that is the way it is." He looks down to the floor, a sorrowful sigh leaves his lips.

"I do not want to believe that, mother. But I can not help but to think that you are right." I feel bad for making my darling son sad, but he needs to know the truth about things. Even as King, life will not be as good as he wishes.

"What about your cousin, Rosamund? She is a lovely girl. Very sweet, and caring." I try to change his attitude. He blinks at me.

"Rosamund? She is three years younger than me, mother." His eyes have widen a bit as he thinks.

"I have already checked to make sure, she has had her moon's blood. So she is old enough to marry." I am gripping at straws here. I just need a girl that I can control easily, and for all the good qualities that the girl has, she is extremely weak-willed. Just doing what she is told without question, something that can be easily exploited. "So has your cousin, Myrielle, as well. She is only a few months younger than you too, so it will be more comfortable for you to marry her."

"I will keep that in mind, mother." He shakes his head at me slightly. I know he will not think about them unless they are right in front of him, so I have to write to the Rock and get them here. That shouldn't be tricky. "Actually, mother, can we finish this discussion on a later day? I am tired of speaking about this, and I just want to relax." He rubs his temples for dramatic effect, I can only roll my eyes at his expressive body.

"Fine, sweetling. Relax and enjoy your last free night before you become weighed down with every problem in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Why would you say? I am scared enough already, I do not need you making it worse, mother." Scared prey is the easiest target, father taught me. Time for the kill.

"Draedon, calm down. It was supposed to be a joke, not a very good, I see now. But just a joke, so no worries, sweetling. I will help you with anything that you need me to help with, I promise that you not have to carry this burden yourself." I grasp his broad shoulders and kiss his brow.

"Thank you. I think I would lose my mind without you here, mother." I smile gently at my cub and stand up to leave.

"Oh, do not forget that Myrcella is coming back here as soon as I leave. Good luck." His eyes widen just a bit in remembrance of his tiny sister.

As soon as I pass through his door into hallway, I see Myrcella walking towards his room. I smile lightly at the sight. She smiles at me as we pass each other.

"He is waiting for you, dear." She smiles larger and almost runs into his room. I laugh as she enters his room.

I may have just solidified my power when he takes the throne. I may have picked out his future wife without Draedon even knowing what is happening. Today is a good day.

Draedon POV

I do not like the attention, I do not like it one bit. I can feel their eyes on me; judging my worth to them. Vulnerability is the only emotion that I can feel this moment. I wish I could have brought Ruby with me, she would have kept me calm while I was up here.

I can see mother gazing at me fom her place at the front of the crowd. Myrcella standing by her with a smile on her face that just brightens up the room monumentally. I love seeing that smile, it is the best thing view in the world. It almost makes me smile whien I see it. But then I remember that there is a huge crowd of people behind her and this is a really serious moment in my life. I look further down the front of the crowd and spot Tommen, and see quite possibly the most bored expression on his chubby face. Another smile begins to tug at my lips, before I mercilessly beat it back.

I have been in this same position for close to the last half hour; kneeling in front of the Iron Throne. My seat that I will sit upon in court in the very near future. I have never really noticed how intimidating it truly is. Before this point, it was always just the chair in which my father sat, but now?

Now, it is the most terrifying thing that I have ever laid my eyes upon. It chills my spine everytime I see it. Father's side of the family made me tall, but in front of this iron monstrosity, I feel as if I am as small as a child. I wish I was a small child, it would be so simple then. I would be crowned still, but mother, whose dress I would hide behind when I became scared, would run the Kingdoms and I would be none the wiser about any problems in the world. But, alas, I am no child. I just feel like one.

I realize that while I have been kneeling here and spotting my remaining family members that are in attendance, I have not been listening to the heavily perfumed man that is conducting my coronation. He smells of lilacs. The scent is so strong that it almost brings tears to my eyes. I feel as if it is getting close to the end of his monologue, so I start listening, and at the most perfect time too.

"...May the Warrior grant him courage, and protect him in these perilous times. May the Smith grant him strength, that he might bear this heavy burden. And may the Crone, She that knows the fate of all men, show him the path he must walk, and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Draedon of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may he reign!" The High Septon places a heavy crown on my head, that rests rather tightly across my brow

"Long may he Reign!" The crowd yells after the High Septon places the crown on me.

It is not the crown my father wore, I made sure to send that with Barristan and Arys while they transported father's body to Storm's End, to be buried with him. No, the crown that rests on my head now, is entirely my own. It is made of a thick gold band, with antlers of a stag coming out the top. Just below the antlers, a single large obsidian stone surrounded by seven smaller sapphires adorn the band. I had it padded on the inside, so that it would rest more easily upon my brow.

The Great Hall resounds with claps and cheers from the overly large crowd. Tommen no longer looks bored, not when he is cheering louder than everyone else. Cella is clapping overexcitedly, but still lady like, something I did not know was even possible. Mother has her trademark smirk plastered on my beautiful face. The remaining Counsel members are clapping politely, but it is Lord Stark that draws my attention. He has stopped clapping far quicker than everyone else in the room. I can not get a solid read on the honorable man.

Mother and my siblings approach me, huge smiles on their soft faces. They latch on to me as soon as they are close enough to. Instinctively, I wrap them securely in my arms. Mother stands behind them as she watches the scene unfold, a gentle smile formed on her lips. When my siblings step away, mother gently takes my much bigger body into her arms. I feel so much better with her hugging me. I squeeze her slender frame much tighter than I did Tommen and Myrcella. She breaks the embrace first. When I pull back, she spins me towards my biggest remaining fear.

When my eyes land upon it, I almost break.

As I am pushed towards it, I fight back the tears that threaten to fall.

As I sit in it for the first time as the crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms, I do not fight to keep my tears back. Surprisingly, only one, lone tear falls. I am glad that it is only one, that is easy to hide from the crowd that has yet to move their eyes from me. I realize that I do not want them to see me weak and crying, I need them to see me as a strong man.

It is at this moment, that I realize, just how much of a child I still am.