Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or anything related. It belongs to George R.R. Martin, the creator of this wonderful universe and David Benioff and D. B. Weiss who created the show.

Face Claim for Lady Sanira Tremaine: Caitlin Stasey.


Chapter Twelve: News from the North.

Standing on the battlements of Casterly Rock, Robb listened to the incoming reports from the North with his council as he stared out over the grounds where many of his men were camped out awaiting their next orders. The progress was slow, slower than he would have liked anyway but he understood that just marching on King's Landing wasn't the smartest move; they needed to play this carefully if they wished to defeat the Lannisters.

"Apparently Yara Greyjoy lead a small team to Winterfell in hopes of regaining her brother, from what we hear she was quickly run off by Ramsey Snow's hounds," Greatjon Umber stated reading the message that the raven had brought. It was not news that they had hoped to hear especially with their success this far south, it did not sit well with any of them that the Northern Capital was in the hands of the Bolton bastard to do as he pleased.

The news of Ramsey Snow's cruelty was starting to seep down and Robb was eager to put down the man that was using his ancestral home as his own personal playground. What little support remained for House Bolton had flocked to the bastard son of Roose Bolton, who now decided that he was Ramsey Bolton; the one true heir of his late lord father and the new head of House Bolton.

"We'll deal with him eventually, Your Grace," Rickard Karstark mused with a shake of his head, there was little point in them losing the progress that they had made by marching back North to deal with Ramsey at this time. There would be plenty of time later to root out the Bolton bastard and deal with him then once they had destroyed the Lannisters and removed their boy king from the throne.

"Any other news?" Robb asked turning his back on the view and focusing on his council, he was eager for news that there Sanira had arrival safely in the Vale. It was imperative that the alliance was secured there, his aunt had been silent in this for too long and he worried that the impartial nature of House Arryn would only lead to trouble later. Sanira had written to him just before she had left the Twins, reassuring him that she would do what she could to convince Lysa to side with them.

"It appears that the trial of Tyrion Lannister is to go ahead. Tywin, Oberyn Martell, and Mace Tyrell are to serve as the judges," Greatjon Umber mused holding up another piece of parchment that had been handed to him. It appeared that even during times of war, the Lannisters couldn't resist turning on each other; Tyrion having been arrested within moments of Joffrey's death accused by his own sister of the murder.

"In all likeness he shall be declared guilty, the trial itself is likely a formality," Lord Wyman Manderley stated with a shake of his head, the Lannisters were such a bloodthirsty lost that they were happy enough to kill one another it seemed. The fact that Tywin was allowing such a stain against his family name was rather amusing, even if Tyrion was sent to the wall there were whispers that Cersei would do anything to see him dead.

"Prince Oberyn writes that it is unlikely that Tyrion is actually guilty of such a crime, Cersei has apparently approached him in an attempt to sway his verdict," Greatjon Umber revealed as he looked around at the other men that had gathered. It was a great miscarriage of justice, to be accused of something that you did not do and yet the Lannisters seemed happy enough to throw their own family under the cart if that meant they would survive.

"The Tyrells are moving to marry Margaery to Tommen after the loss of Joffrey," Greatjon Umber continued, despite the loss of Joffrey only a couple of months earlier there seemed no slowing down in the Lannister/Tyrell alliance. Not even out of her mourning garb yet, Margaery would be married to Tommen in the coming months to cement the alliance between the two houses. It didn't seem that the former bride had mourned her second husband to die in a matter of months, something that didn't quite sit right with any of them.

"A desperate bid to keep power or a way to gain a husband that you can control," Rickard Karstark mused with a shake of his head, voicing the thoughts that they were all thinking. If Tyrion was not guilty of his nephew's murder than who was better placed to murder Joffrey than his own bride once she realised how monstrous her new husband was.


Picking at his fingernails as he sat in his chamber, Tommen looked nervously around the rooms that he had been given now that he was King. They were much nicer than his old rooms and his cats seemed to like the balcony that overlooked the city, choosing their favourite spots out there to sunbathe while he was left alone to his thoughts.

His conversations with his grandfather kept replaying in his head, the questions about what sort of king he wished to be and how he need not worry as his grandfather was here to guide him. No one had really asked him what he wanted, it was like his brother had died and everyone had moved on without a second thought. Joffrey wasn't even in the ground when people had turned their attentions to him and acting like he was the most important person in the world.

If it wasn't his grandfather who was whispering in his ear, then it was his mother's sudden attention on him that made him uncomfortable. Joffrey had always been her favourite, him and Marcella often cast to the side and ignore while their mother had doted on everything that Joffrey had ever wanted.

Tommen could still remember the scene as if it was yesterday when the younger Stark girl's direwolf had defended her against Joffrey; his brother claiming that the beast had attacked him out of nowhere. It was only now that Tommen wished that he could have spoken up, told their father the truth about what had happened instead of allowing Lady Sansa's direwolf to be killed.

When he had tried to voice the truth against Joffrey's lies, his mother had silenced him; told him that there was nothing to worry about and not speak a word of this to anyone. Standing from his seat, Tommen made his way across the room to the open doors of his balcony and stepped out into the sun; his eyes squinting slightly at the brightness before he headed for the railing.

Resting his hands on the railing, he looked out across the city and couldn't help but think about the mess that he had found himself in. His grandfather was doing his best to govern the kingdoms but the news that Casterly Rock had been lost to Stannis had disturbed him especially now that he was in the middle of judging Tyrion's trial. A lump formed in Tommen's throat as he thought about his uncle and the fact that he stood accused of murdering his brother.

There was no denying that there had been tensions between Tyrion and Joffrey, who thought it was his personal mission to torment everyone that crossed his path. Lady Sansa disappearing like she had did not help Tyrion's case, but not for a minute did Tommen think that his uncle was capable of murdering his brother. When Tommen had tried to bring his concerns up to anyone, he had been hushed or told that it was not his place to decide such things.

His own mother had raged when he had spoken about his concerns for the trial, surely anyone who knew of his family knew that his mother had no great love for her own brother. Tommen could only watch as a silent spectator as his own mother did everything in her power to ensure that Tyrion was found guilty. From rigging the witnesses to trying to bride one of the judges in her favor, Tommen could not help but wonder if this wasn't about the death of Joffrey and more to do with Cersei finding away to get rid of the brother that she had always hated.

His thoughts turned to the beautiful Margaery, who came to him often when he was in his bed chambers of a night; a kind smile on her face as she stroked Sire Pounce. They were to be married he was told, to secure the Tyrell alliance to the crown and it would provide grain and much needs supplies to the capital during the war.

Tommen wasn't quite sure what to make of his future bride, one who whispered to him about how he would make a great king; how everyone would remember him and speak such wonderful tales of the king that had supported his people. It made Tommen feel even more guilty about the fact that he did not want any of this, he did not wish to be king. He would happily hand it all over to someone else, retire quietly to the countryside with his cats and spend the rest of his days running a small keep.

A lump formed in Tommen's throat as he thought about the weight that now rested on his shoulders, just how was he supposed to rule a kingdom that was so divided because of his own brother's actions. He already knew the answer and he knew that no one cared what he thought; he was the king now and that was all that anyone cared about.


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