The three royal children were sitting in one of the bedrooms of Winterfell, all of them curious as to what was going on. Joffrey was filled with angry and vicious energy over their mother's arrest, vowing that the barbarians would pay for it with steel and blood. Myrcella and Tommen sat quietly on their own, away from their brother. They too, were confused but knew that their father was coming to sort it out. When the door opened and he entered, Joffrey immediately strode up to him.
"Father! Good! Why has Mother been arrested? It's the Starks, isn't it? Let me set Mother's men on them, and show these savages what happens when you dare to touch a royal.", he said.
Robert sighed heavily; now that he knew, he understood why he had seen so little of himself in his children. His heart was heavy as he looked at Tommen and Myrcella, such sweet and kind children whose lives were about to be shattered.
"Joffrey, sit down.", he said.
"Why, Father?", he asked.
"Sit down!"
Joffrey sat down, cowed. Robert took a deep breath.
"Your mother is in prison for treason.", he began.
"Treason? What treason? Queens cannot commit treason! It's the Starks who have committed treason by-", Joffrey interjected.
"Be silent! If you speak out of turn again, it'll be the worst for you!", Robert growled.
Joffrey shut up.
"Yes, even kings and queens can be wrong and commit treason. Your mother has done so, in one of the worst ways possible. She has tampered with the line of succession."
"What does that mean, Father?", Tommen asked, innocently curious.
"That's just the thing, son. I'm not your father. Your mother has lied all these years; none of you are my children."
There were a few moments of silence to allow them to process this information.
"Then whose are we?", Myrcella asked.
Robert swallowed; the moment of reckoning.
"Your father, your real father, is Jaime Lannister. The Queen's twin brother."
None of them showed any reaction at first, as the enormity of that sank in, and then it did. Tommen's face twisted in a mixture of disgust and disbelief, Myrcella's an odd look of surprise, disgust and realisation, and Joffrey's became hate-filled.
"Lies! Filthy lies! These Starks are spreading malicious slander about us to weaken our hold on the crown! I'll have all their heads for this!", he said, springing to his feet.
"You will do no such thing.", Robert told him.
But Joffrey continued to rant and rave, spitting furious bile and vowing to punish the Starks with such viciousness that even Robert shrank away from him. He beckoned to the other two and they scurried out of the room with him. He slammed the door and locked it.
"He needs to calm down.", Robert said.
Inside they could hear Joffrey kicking things, throwing them, swearing a blue streak that made even Robert start in surprise. He ushered the younger children away.
"You don't need to hear any of that. Best to let him blow himself out and then I'll talk to him properly."
"But Father- I mean, your Grace, what does that mean for us?", Tommen asked.
"It means that you are no longer royal. I'm sorry, Tommen, but you and your sister are no longer a prince and princess of the realm."
"So, we're bastards?", Myrcella said.
"In a way, yes. You're certainly not Baratheons. I don't know why I didn't see it before, because everyone born to my line has black hair."
Tommen reached up and ran a hand through his golden locks. His face twisted in disgust and he wiped his hand on his trousers like it was soiled.
"Mother used to say how I should be proud of my hair. Now I just want to cut it off.", he said sullenly.
"You can talk to her, if you want. She's locked up, but I'll understand if you want to see her. She is your mother, after all."
Tommen and Myrcella looked at each other.
"I don't think she was. She barely ever interacted with us, it was always Joffrey. And whenever she did pay attention to us, it was less like a mother and more like we were just extensions of her.", Myrcella said.
"Yes. She ordered me to no longer play with Bran and the other boys because I was her son, and she would never have done that. But playing with them, I haven't been this happy ever.", Tommen remarked.
Robert regarded them for a moment.
"You like it here? I thought you would want to return to King's Landing as soon as possible. Winterfell isn't exactly….. luxurious.", he said.
"I know, but everything is somehow nicer here. Simpler, but somehow better.", Myrcella said.
"Yeah. I've had more fun in the two days I've been here than all the years in King's Landing.", Tommen chimed in.
Robert took a good look at the children; he had ignored them, he was ashamed to admit, and if he hadn't he might have noticed that they weren't his. But now he could see that they seemed less meek and downtrodden than they had been in the capital. Winterfell had birthed a new fire in them; Tommen was recalling how he had run and jumped and ridden and sparred with the boys of Winterfell, all things that bloody nag had banned him from doing in King's Landing, whilst Myrcella was recalling her friendship with Sansa Stark and Jeyne Poole, better companions than her mother's twittering handmaids. They had come to enjoy their time up here, and the Northerners had seemed to like them. It would be cruel to force them to return to the capital where they would have to endure the stigma of being incestuous bastards, if not outright demands for their heads. He knew those obsequious fools in the Great Sept would demand their deaths as abominations, probably have them stoned to death. They might be the spawn of those bloody Lannister twins, but that was no fault of their own and they did not deserve to be punished for that. Perhaps it would be best for them to stay up here.
"I'll talk to Ned. If you really want to stay here in Winterfell, I'm sure he won't mind."
Both children looked very happy at the prospect, and Tommen actually hugged him. He was still smiling warmly at that as he made his way to Ned's solar, pushing the door open to behold Ned, Tyrion and Ser Barristan all standing there, looking grim.
"Oh, gods, what now?", Robert asked.
Tyrion held up a raven scroll.
"My father's response. It seems he hasn't taken the news well.", Tyrion said.
"How not well?", Robert asked.
"Accusing me of filthy lies and rallying his bannermen to march north and set the place aflame from the Neck to the Wall.", Tyrion replied evenly.
"Oh.", was Robert's response.
Ned held up a second raven scroll.
"Fortunately, his brother Kevan was able to temper that. Lord Tywin is sailing for White Harbour with the intention of coming here to ascertain the truth of Lord Tyrion's statement.", he said.
"Tywin's coming here, to Winterfell?", Robert asked.
"Yes. And he's coming with quite a few troops. Things could get ugly.", Tyrion remarked.
"He'll hear it from me. And the Kingslayer, if we can manage it.", Robert said.
All of the gathered men realised just how bad the situation could get. Tywin Lannister was a man whose wrath it was exceedingly unwise to provoke and he was obsessed with maintaining his family's legacy and reputation; he'd exterminated two vassal houses for rebelling against House Lannister, and now that it had been ruined by his two golden children there was no telling how the man would react. Tyrion knew that this debacle could very well bring House Lannister down in flames; Lannisters as yet unborn to his great-grandchildren would be feeling the aftereffects of this. Some small part of him laughed at the irony, which was noticed.
"What could possibly be so funny, Imp?", Robert asked.
"Just when I stop and think. My whole life my father has resented me, calling me a disgrace and a shame to the family. Refusing to consider making me his heir, putting all his hopes on Cersei and Jaime to ensure we'd rise up and now all of that is ashes because of them, the golden children. It's funny when you think about it."
It was, and even the dour Ned couldn't resist chuckling with them. The smiles vanished when they heard a bloodcurdling scream from elsewhere in the castle, a sound that made Ned's blood turn to ice.
"Sansa!"
He was up and tearing along the corridor in the direction the scream had come from, the others panting in his wake. The door to her room was thrown wide open and there was distinct signs of a struggle, her direwolf Lady just pulling herself to her feet with a nasty cut across her muzzle and looking supremely pissed off and bloodthirsty; considering she was the gentlest of her litter, this boded ill and was quite frightening. A second scream, even worse than the first one, lent him terrifying speed as he flew to where it had come from. As he burst into the courtyard, his heart almost failed. Lying on the ground, holding his stomach and bleeding copiously, was Jon and standing over him was Joffrey. The former prince's face was twisted in insane anger and viciousness as he held a bloody dagger to Sansa's throat. The girl was even paler than usual beneath her Tully red hair and shaking with fear and sobs but not daring to make any sudden moves. The blade held to her throat was, Ned realised with sudden terror, one of Valyrian steel; one move on either part would open her neck in an instant. Her previous scream had brought people running from all over the castle; Catelyn burst out of a door with Rickon and Arya and let out a scream of her own at the sight of her daughter being held at knifepoint. Ned feared that she would rush the boy, but she was too smart for that. Guards ranged themselves warily around them, looking for an opportune moment. Robb and Theon came running from where they'd been training with Ser Rodrik and let out noises of outrage; Robb made to charge but Joffrey brandished the blade at him.
"Stay back! Another step and I open her throat!", he screeched.
Robb halted; the kid was not bluffing. He'd just had his entire world come crashing down around him, lost the only thing that mattered and was unable to accept it. It made for a very dangerous situation. Sansa tried to speak through her sobs.
"Joffrey! Joffrey, please, you're my-", she said.
Joffrey cuffed her round the head with the hilt of the dagger.
"Silence!", he wailed.
Robert took a cautious step forwards.
"Joffrey.", he said placatingly.
"Father! Good, good! And I see you brought the Stark lord, even better!", the boy said, eyes glinting madly.
"Joffrey. Let her go, now. Be a good boy and don't hurt her."
"Why shouldn't I? Her family hurt me and mother with their filthy lies. Why shouldn't I hurt her?"
Maybe because you're surrounded by her family and half a hundred armed guards who'll tear you apart if you do, Robert wanted to say. The boy was clearly unhinged and desperate as he waved the blade around carelessly.
"Just let her go.", he repeated.
"Only if her family admits to their lies. Admits here and now, in front of everyone, that they lied about mother and me! Only then, will I consider letting her g- OWWWWWWWWWWW!"
Sansa had been abducted in her room whilst sewing, and had managed to keep ahold of her needle. The moment Joffrey was waving the knife around rather than keep it pressed to her throat, she had taken the needle in her fist and plunged it into his thigh. Joffrey let out a piglike squeal of pain and released her, allowing Sansa to wriggle free and escape. He rounded on her furiously.
"I'll gut you for that, you little c-"
And another scream as little Rickon darted forwards on all fours like his wolf and bit the bastard on the ankle. The dagger came up to lash out only to be knocked from his hand with an arrow fired by Bran. Arya ran forwards and planted both her booted feet in his crotch, making him turn purple and fall to the ground in a muddy puddle, clutching his groin and wheezing. By the time the Stark guards reached him, he no longer resembled a prince. Ned barely spared him a glance as he walked towards his family, ordering him tossed in a cell and none too gently at that. Jon had already been lifted onto a stretcher and borne off with Maester Luwin.
"He- He tried to save me from Joffrey.", Sansa was saying shakily as her mother comforted her.
"Jon?", Catelyn asked.
"Yes. He heard me scream the first time and intercepted us. He tried to convince Joffrey to let me go and…. Joffrey stabbed him. He tried to help me and he got stabbed.", Sansa said, her hands shaking.
Ned was white with fear; if Jon died…
"Maester Luwin will fix him.", Arya said, trying not to show how upset she was herself; she was the closest to Jon of the Stark siblings.
"But if he doesn't make it…", Robb said.
"Then I will hand that thrice-cursed bastard over to Roose Bolton with leave to do whatever he wants with him. But I don't want any of you to entertain such grim thoughts."
Ned said this with such intensity that it scared them; Jon could not die, he could not. He had promised Lyanna. Even Catelyn, with her dislike of Jon, felt that the boy must not be allowed to die. She did not know why, but it was important that he live, and she asked both the old and new gods to ensure that it was so. Yes, she had hated the boy, but he had saved her daughter's life at the possible cost of his own, and that meant something. So as she held her sobbing daughter to her, she hoped that the gods might be merciful enough to grant her prayers a second time, after she failed to live up to her end of the bargain last time.