At King's Landing…
King Daveth I Baratheon stood at his desk, staring at the inner contents of The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses for Gods know how long. Never in his life had he felt so… sick; betrayed, even. He traced his index finger across the pages detailing House Baratheon's lineage and appearance of its heirs… and comparing them to a certain Great House of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Robert Baratheon, black of hair, Daveth Baratheon, black of hair," Daveth read quietly to himself so no one could hear him. "Joffrey Baratheon, golden-haired… Myrcella Baratheon, golden-haired… Tommen Baratheon, golden-haired…"
Who knows how many times Daveth read the old tome. Again and again, he flipped between House Baratheon and House Lannister. And every time, the answer was always the same.
"Your brothers and sister are not your father's children. They have no actual claim to the throne," the late Lord Eddard Stark's last words rung repeatedly through his head before he died. "Jon Arryn learned the truth. That's why he died."
"Tywin Lannister, golden-haired," he continued. "Cersei Lannister, golden-haired… Jaime Lannister, golden-haired… Tyrion Lannister, golden-haired…"
The Young Stag shook his head in utter bewilderment and realization as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. As it turns out, the rumor that surrounded his mother Cersei which spread during Renly's rebellion—one he originally thought was a disgusting lie—actually had merit! Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are all bastards born of incest between Cersei and his uncle Jaime; meaning they all had no claim to the Iron Throne.
Daveth could care less what happens to Joffrey even after exiling him to the Wall, but Myrcella and Tommen…? He loved them and had a hand in raising them himself as if they were his own; just the thought of the two of them being ostracized as abominations in the eyes of the Faith of the Seven, or worse, killed… Daveth felt his head spin and stomach being tied into knots. He shook his head once more and slammed the book closed as a knock on the door snapped his concentration.
*KNOCK, KNOCK!*
"It's open," Daveth called out.
The door opened and Tommen entered the room. The boy was only 13 years old, but Tommen still displayed the same innocent smile whenever he looked up at his eldest brother… no, his half-brother. Daveth looked at Tommen, but couldn't change the way he felt no matter how bad the truth stung. His brother, no… half-brother, he had to remind himself… was a good, innocent child like Myrcella is, too.
They may not have the same father, but they still shared the same mother. For the first time in his life, as much as it was for Myrcella and Tommen's sake, Daveth planned to take the darkest truth in history with him to his grave. Gods forgive him. It was a sin that would weigh heavily on his soul.
"What's that?" Tommen asked, pointing to the book.
Daveth sighed. "I was just filing in the latest entries to this dusty old relic. Lady Reina of Summerhall had just given birth to a boy with her husband Lord Durran," he lied.
The blonde-haired Baratheon blinked in curiosity, but bought it. "Which houses are they from again?" he asked.
"Reina is of House Fishport and Durran is of House Northborne," Daveth explained. "And before you ask any more questions, their houses are rather new. Just like House Seaworth."
"Oh."
"Now, is there something you wanted?"
Tommen nodded. "Yes, brother. Lady Lysa and her son just arrived at the capital with her household guards to swear fealty. They're in the throne room with Lord Baelish right now."
'Perfect timing,' thought Daveth. "Very good, Tommen. That will be all," he said.
Before he could leave, Tommen called out to Daveth again.
"Brother," he spoke up, fidgeting his fingers slightly. "Are you… all right?"
Daveth shook his head. "I'm fine, Tommen. Just leave it at that."
Tommen swore he flinched slightly, but kept his mouth shut. Thinking quickly, the boy believed he could somehow put his eldest brother into a different mood if he changed the subject.
"What about… well, you know…"
"Your wedding to Margaery Tyrell will take place once you come of age. Until then, I'd advise you to be patient. Trust me. Patience has its own rewards."
"I understand, brother. Thank you."
Daveth said nothing as he walked pass Tommen to proceed towards the throne room. The Vale had been remaining isolated for far too long, and with Lady Lisa and Robin coming all the way to swear fealty—mostly at the outspoken behest of their bannermen—the Vale would be brought back into the fold upon betrothing Lisa to Lord Petyr Baelish. Still, Daveth had not seen Lisa Arryn in over two years prior to her husband's passing; from what reports he could gather, Lisa was still a rather odd fish. Daveth still held his suspicions about her, but had to keep it well hidden until something incriminating turned up.
After a long walk, Daveth saw all assembled before the Iron Throne: Lady Lisa Arryn, her son Robin Arryn, her handmaiden Eleana Fyste, Lord Yohn Royce, Lady Anya Waynwood and Ser Vance Corbray. Lord Baelish himself had been keeping the Vale noble guests occupied until the King arrived.
Petyr was the first to notice Daveth's arrival. "Your Grace, welcome," he greeted.
"Your Grace," the Vale nobles knelt.
Lysa, meanwhile, had eyed Daveth up and down – studying him cautiously. Even as mentally unstable as she was, the widow Arryn had spent enough time with him in King's Landing during her late husband Jon's tenure as Hand of the King to know Daveth. He was only a child back then. She hadn't seen him in nearly three years, but things changed. Lysa kept up appearances as usual, learning how to keep whatever motives she had to herself.
"Your Grace," Lysa curtseyed with a strained smile. "It's been a long time."
"Hello," Robin greeted. The eleven-year-old had grown as well, but Daveth observed how the young Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East carried himself.
'Pitiful,' he tactfully concluded. 'The boy is nothing like his father Jon Arryn! Intellectually stunted, shamelessly spoiled, easily distracted, and having lived an extremely sheltered life… These are not the traits of an effective ruler. Such behavior would only lead the Vale to utter ruin once he comes of age.'
Regardless, Daveth nodded at Lysa's earlier statement. "Indeed it has, Lady Arryn. Thank you for coming to the capital on such notice. You must be tired from your long journey. May we offer you and your son some refreshments?"
Lysa shook her head. "You are very kind for such hospitality, but I must respectfully decline. We assure you that all is well."
Robin didn't take that kindly. "But mother!" he whined.
"Hush now," Lysa calmly scolded her son.
Lord Royce, Lady Waynwood and Ser Corbray all equally felt uncomfortable at the young Lord of the Eyrie's temper tantrum outburst in front of King Daveth as well as the Lady Regent not being firm enough to keep Robin in line.
Petyr cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should return to the focus at hand, Your Grace?"
"Of course, Lord Baelish," Daveth said. "Are you pleased with your betrothal, Lady Arryn?"
Lysa nodded eagerly. "Very much so, Your Grace. I consent to the match."
"Of course, that means that the other end of the bargain must be upheld as well for the match to officially be considered," Petyr reminded all assembled.
Lord Royce, Lady Waynwood and Ser Corbray remained knelt before the King, but felt their stomachs twist in knots as they did not approve of the match with such a devious little man. Regardless of their opinion, Lysa did not care. Whatever it took to secure the match between her and the only man she's ever loved.
The Lady Regent knelt before Daveth. "Your Grace."
Robin was a little but slow, but eventually took a cue from his mother and knelt as well. "Your Grace," he repeated.
Daveth felt his lips curl into a satisfactory smile. This act of fealty meant that the Vale would now return to the fold. And what's more… all was going accordingly to plan. He was pleased.
"I see the Vale continues to adhere by the words of House Arryn. Impressive," Daveth said rather pleased. "You may rise."
Lysa, Robin and the Vale lords all rose to their feet. With the Vale now back into the fold, the atmosphere in the throne room changed as Petyr leaned in to whisper into Daveth's ear.
"Your Grace, I believe that the merchant lords of Lys and Tyrosh are bound to arrive for the trade negotiations. Best not to keep them waiting, don't you agree?"
Daveth didn't like being told what to do, especially from Littlefinger. But he was right about this though: Lys and Tyrosh sent representatives to discuss trade, and it'd be considered rude to keep them delayed longer than they would have liked. Even so, Daveth nodded and looked at the assembled crowd.
"My apologies, my lords and ladies, but I fear I must cut this short. Lord Baelish can have his people see you to your rooms," Daveth informed them before leaving with two of his Kingsguard knights in tow.
Lysa turned to her handmaiden. "Eleana, be a dear and escort my son and the lords and ladies to their rooms. I need to have a word with Lord Baelish. Alone."
Eleana curtsied. "Yes, my lady."
"My lady," Lord Royce interrupted. "Don't you think—"
"I SAID NOW!" Lysa hollered.
Eleana took Robin by the hand, motioning him and the other Valemen to follow her to the royal apartments. Once they were sure they were now alone, Lysa pulled Petyr aside.
"Let's get married tonight," she whispered insistently.
Petyr raised an eyebrow. "Ought we not… inform the lords of the Vale about the ceremony? They did come all this way here with you."
Lysa shook her head adamantly as if she was about to cry.
"There's only one lord of the Vale. The others can all hang. Lurking and simpering on the stairs like buzzards the moment my husband died, trying to get their claws in me."
"I do think that we could wait until…"
"I'm done waiting, Petyr," she stomped a foot, her voice mixed with heat and hurt. "We had our wedding night many years ago. Or don't you remember?"
"Like it was yesterday," he sighed.
"What wife would do the things I've done for you?" Lysa demanded, trying to be as quiet as possible. "What wife would trust you the way I've trusted you? When you gave me those drops and told me to pour them into Jon's wine. My husband's wine. And you told me to write a letter to Cat telling her it was the Lannisters—"
Before Lysa could continue her ranting, Petyr hushed her by pulling Lysa close to him and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss — either as if trying to silence her or suspecting someone would listen.
Petyr pulled away. "Tonight it is, then."
Lysa's worries melted away and she giggled like an excited little girl.
"Let me bathe and dress for the occasion. Once I'm more presentable, I'll call on the septon immediately."
Not even listening, Lysa snapped her fingers and once the doors opened, it revealed a rather startled septon accompanied by two of her household guards. Petyr's face twisted into a rather uncomfortable look, as if he hadn't been surprised by Lysa's impatience and insistence that they be wed upon her arrival.
"I'm warning you. I'm going to scream when my husband makes love to me," Lysa proclaimed. "I'm going to scream so loud, they'll hear me clear across the Narrow Sea."
Unbeknownst to Lysa and Petyr, someone had indeed been listening to their conversation rather closely. As Lysa planted small kisses along Petyr's cheek and neck, her handmaiden Eleana overheard everything. Her eyes went wide and she clutched her dress closely.
Her whole life tending to her mistress, Eleana Fyste believed Lady Lysa Arryn's insistence that House Lannister was responsible for the death of the late Jon Arryn and were after his son and heir Robin. Lysa never loved Jon Arryn – that was something Eleana and the other lords had known for several years now, one they had accepted. Now the handmaiden knew why. It was her mistress's affair with Lord Baelish that made things more dangerous.
She turned on her heel and scurried to find King Daveth, quickly and as quietly as she could to avoid being detected.
"I've got to tell the lords. I've got to tell the King!"
Now that Eleana learned the truth, she rushed to find a way to prove what very few would in the capital would believe.
######
In one of the royal apartments…
Jaime Lannister had been brushing his golden locks—now shown to be short. Since he had returned to the capital, he had taken the liberty to cut his hair short and trim his beard. Ser Barristan had informed Jaime he was due a haircut as somewhat of a joke. Whilst getting a haircut, Jaime took it upon himself to shave as well. He looked much cleaner, younger even.
Qyburn, the old man tending to the last cuts Jaime sustained during his brush with Tarly troops, applied some ointment and brushed it to the side with his thumb. A former maester of the Citadel, Qyburn was stripped of his chain by the Archmaesters and banished from the order as punishment for conducting illegal human experimentation: that he had been vivisecting men in his pursuit of medical knowledge. While his methods were unethical and reviled, Qyburn was still recognized as one of the most talented healers in all of Westeros.
"There now," Qyburn sighed. "I believe that should do it. How does it feel?"
"A bit practical, but I'm sure it'll make do," Jaime quipped.
Cersei Lannister, standing on the opposite side of the room with a cup of wine in one hand, turned to glare directly at her twin brother.
"You're such an ingrate," she chastised. "Better to see those wounds tended to before they grow to be infected."
Qyburn packs up his stuff to leave and Cersei courteously walks him to the door.
"Thank you for your help in the other matter," she says mysteriously.
"The symptoms have abated?"
"Gone completely. I am in your debt, Maester Qyburn."
Qyburn shook his head. "Not a maester, Your Grace, but happy to help whenever I can."
Once Qyburn leaves and shuts the door behind him, Jaime turns to look at Cersei.
"Odd little man," Jaime remarked.
"I've grown rather fond of him," Cersei retorted slightly amused. "He's quite talented, you know."
Jaime doesn't like the sound of that. "What symptoms?" he asks.
"Symptoms that are not your concern," Cersei snickers.
Jaime mulls this over then has a sudden revelation. If Qyburn was treating Cersei medically, then he would have had to touch her.
"You let him touch you?"
"You jealous?" she teased.
Jaime frowned.
"Surprised," he corrected her, shaking his head. "You never let Pycelle near you."
Cersei laughs mirthlessly. "You think I'd let that old lecher put his hands on me? He smells like a dead cat."
"I'm not sure I've ever smelled a dead cat."
"Well, they smell like Pycelle."
Jaime continued observing Cersei's change in behavior and noticed her posture changed since he last saw her. Something warned his instincts that something was wrong.
"You drink more than you used to," he realized, in a very judgmental tone of voice.
"Yes," Cersei replied rather bluntly.
"Why?"
"Hmm. Let's see," Cersei spoke angrily, sitting down on the nearest couch. "You started a brawl in the streets with Ned Stark, got my eldest son involved in that scuffle before being sent off to war. My husband died in a tragic hunting accident."
Jaime moved over to sit next to his sister. "It must have been traumatic for you," he said sarcastically.
She ignored him. "My own son banished Joffrey to the Wall. My only daughter was shipped off to Dorne by my own son. We suffered through a siege."
"Last I checked it was a rather short siege."
"One that I didn't expect to survive," Cersei continued ranting, ignoring his non-helpful interruptions. "And now I'm marrying my son to that Stark bitch, while my youngest is supposed to marry that wicked little bitch from Highgarden; the sister of a renowned pillowbiter. So…"
Cersei's unspoken message being that she has every right to drink as often as she wants to for all those reasons and so many more. Jaime scoots over beside his twin sister and placed a hand on her palm, hoping that would at least calm her down a bit. Cersei noticed it.
"You don't really plan on staying in the Kingsguard, do you?" she asked.
Jaime sighed. "A Kingsguard serves for life. And staying in the Kingsguard means I live right here in the Red Keep with you."
He moves to tug at the laces of Cersei's dress, but she annoyingly swats his hand away.
"Not now. I want…"
The Kingslayer looked surprised at his sister's sudden act of rejection. "'Not now'?" he protests. "If not now, then when? I've been back for almost two weeks now!" His annoyance changed as realization crept on his face. "Something's changed…"
"Everything has changed!" Cersei agreed angrily. "You come back after all this time with no apologies and expect everything to be the same?"
"What do you want me to apologize for?" he asks incredulously.
"For leaving me!" she said obviously. No one abandons the queen and expects to come back and return to her good graces.
"You think I wanted to be taken prisoner?" Jaime asks, as if that will make anything better.
"I don't know what you wanted, but you weren't here. You left me alone!" Cersei says coldly.
"Every day I was Randyll Tarly's prisoner, I plotted my escape. Every day!" Jaime heatedly argued. "I murdered people so I could be here with you! I…"
The Queen Mother had enough of her twin's excuses and whining.
"You took too long."
Jaime stopped arguing and stared blankly at Cersei as if the wind was knocked out of him once her words took root. Then it suddenly dawns on him that his position as Cersei's lover is in serious jeopardy. Though he still doesn't understand how much trouble he's in.
"What are you saying?"
"You took too long," Cersei repeated.
The Kingslayer simply said nothing as a few knocks were made on their door.
*KNOCK, KNOCK!*
"Go away!" Jaime finally shouted.
Cersei ignored him. "Come in."
The door opens revealing Cersei's handmaiden Bernadette.
"Forgive me, Your Grace. You told me to come at once if there was anything important. All the able-bodied lords and ladies are starting to gather at the city gates."
######
Author's Note: Well, hidden secrets are now revealed as Daveth learned the truth behind his siblings' parentage as the royal wedding draws near. But how do you think it'll affect his relationship with Myrcella and Tommen in the long run? Will it further strain the relationship he has with Cersei and Jaime? Let me know in the reviews.
I'm also thinking of doing another filler arc, but which one do you like to see involved? Theon Greyjoy? Jon Snow? Daenerys Targaryen? Bran Stark? Let me know.
Also, because I'm dealing with so many writer's blocks lately some chapters' release dates might be a bit delayed. Again this is not intentional. It's something all of us go through. Once I get an idea going, they'll be up and running in no time.
C.E.W: Eleana approaching Daveth over Lysa and Baelish's betrayal of the realm, Jon Arryn's death, lying to the Starks about the Lannisters murdering Jon Arryn, and attempts on Bran's life. Leading to Catelyn abducting Tyrion Lannister kick starting the war. I'm sure Daveth would love to believe this, due to Baelish's history of corrupting King's Landing, but he'd need prove to convict of such serious charges, Tywin will insist on it. Fighting a war against the Vale is among the last things Daveth needs, considering his growing opposition against his mother, the growing threat of Daenerys and her dragons in the East. I'm sure he'll have more than enough on his plate when he learns of the Greyjoys rebelling again, and the Wildlings advancing on the Wall. Dorne's allegiance is still unchecked, and there is the coming wedding with Daveth and Sansa.
—I agree that he'd believe it, as well as recognizing that he'll need sufficient evidence to back it up. For now all he's stuck with is words (mostly accusations) and theories. Daveth sees no interest in an unnecessary conflict with the Vale since he's still got some support there and he's already got a lot on his mind as of late.
animemania659: Breaking your 300th review mark! Awesome chapter, I wonder what Cersei is planning to do? Hmmmm..
—Congratulations on being the 300th person to leave a review. Thanks for the support. Cersei definitely has to be feeling the fear of having her position of power threatened by a younger, more beautiful maiden. Especially since the maiden is a Stark! No doubt she'll try to do whatever it takes to retain her position, even if we all know that'll end up in another clash between the Golden Lioness and the Oathkeeper.
RHatch89: Awesome update :)
—Thanks.
Guest: great story
—Thanks.
kira444: You could have Dany match wits with a female warlord in Essos, in a way where she has to win without setting everything on fire. A clash of queens and all that.
—I'll think about it.
The Three Stoogies: a great chapter keep up the good work I think it might be alittle weird but they are the same kids he loves they will be fine.
—Let's hope it stays that way.
BioHazard82: Another good chapter.
—Thanks.
mpowers045: Little finger and looney Lysa are so going down! I just hope reveling the secret won't affect his siblings relationship
—Everyone's been asking me to bring down both Baelish and Lysa. Don't worry they'll their comeuppance. In the meantime, let's hope the truth of Cersei and Jaime's incestuous relationship doesn't negatively affect the relationship between Daveth, Myrcella and Tommen :(
Patty 4577: Good luck trying to get out of that one Baelish. Also for the filler split it between Daenerys and Bran.
—Something tells me that not even Littlefinger will try to weasel his way out of it. As for the filler, I'll consider making one involving the Dragon Queen and Crippled Wolf.