Part Two: The Branches

Interlude: Family Portrait

Shireen Baratheon stared into the red sky. It felt like even the dome over them was stained with Ned Stark's blood.

No one could keep secrets on this island. No one could even whisper. Shireen had known the minute they were expecting Arya Stark to arrive on their isle, she was to be Shireen's new friend. She'd known that her father was keeping a secret by the way he tensed (even moreso than usual, if possible) than usual, upon reading a letter with the House Stark seal. And she'd known, when the raven flew over their small land, that something was wrong, she could tell from the solemn way it flapped its wings. She'd been alone, for a long time, and in that time she'd become observant.

The lady in red matched the sky today. Even in her father's chamber, where he met with his leaders and the great big awful table, the giant map of Westeros, she made the whole place look grim, and evil in her deep red dress. She hated her so much. Her mother stood on the other side of her father, drab in grey, like the rest of their setting. Perhaps that's what she hated most about the Red Woman, she made the place look alive, she stood out in her bright dresses, and the rest of them were just fading, rotting off to the side of the life happening around them.

Shireen touched her soft hand to her rough face. That's why she hated her indeed. She was evil and she was life.

Davos Seaworth stood before her father's desk, the bag of fingers draped around his neck swung back and forth with each step. He was trying to convince her father of something, and the two women as well, though they were adamantly against whatever Davos was saying.

She couldn't get close enough to hear them. She was in one tower, them in another. But she saw Davos leave the room in a hurry, and when she could finally spot him again, he was heading towards the docks, and her father's best ships.

The red woman appeared before her, blowing out the candles in her room.

"Time to go, my child." She said, once Shireen was almost completely in the dark. "You read so much." she said, "Tell me, what do you know of the land north of the Wall?"

They spent the next few days preparing. And as her father's men prepared, Shireen learned more.

They were taking off for the North, at the advice of Davos Seaworth. He'd read a letter, something managed under Shireen's proud tutelage, that talked of problems in the North. The Commander of the Night's Watch, his men already all too consumed with Wildling attacks, was asking for Stannis to prove his worth, as the now rightful king of Westeros, that sparked something in him.

Robert Baratheon's death had turned everyone's heads, but it was the death of Ned Stark that made everyone pay attention. Reports were surfacing to her father that there were self-proclaimed kings popping up all over the seven kingdoms, now that autonomy was up for grabs.

So far she knew Robb Stark calling himself King in the North, Balon Greyjoy claiming to be King of the Iron Islands, her own Uncle Renly was planning on taking the Iron Throne, her father and mother had decided he was a traitor, but Shireen could remember meeting him, years and years ago, and didn't think he was so bad. And now there was the King Beyond the Wall, and a threat even greater than him, and they were going to go fit it.

Gendry Baratheon, Shireen's cousin, was the bastard child of Uncle Robert the dead King. And, according to a letter sent between Eddard Stark and her father, her other cousins Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were believed to be the sons of Cersei and another man. No could say with any certainty who the father was, though conspiracies, the details of which no one was willing to share with Shireen, had made their way to their home.

Havoc was taking over the Capital. Ned Stark was beheaded on the steps of the Red Keep for treason against the crown and Cersei Lannister swept in as advisor to King Joffrey, Rightful heir to the Iron Throne and First of his Name, his new wife and queen Margaery Tyrell by his side. Any other king was a pretender.

Her father claimed, and her mother claimed, and the lady in Red, and even her uncle Davos agreed vehemently, that Stannis was now the rightful heir to the throne.

"But why?" Shireen asked, picking a blade of grass apart with her fingernails.

The air on Dragonstone was as it always was: cold and unwelcoming with the stench of the sea invaded her nose. Her father said it was a agreeable for the trip they were about to undertake; a cold northern wind would only help them get there faster. But for Shireen it just left a chill in her bones.

She plucked another blade of grass from the ground and held it between her thumbs then pulled it to her lips. No sound came out. She threw it to the ground and gave up, next to her a a perfect high pitched whistle came from the lips of her friend.

"Why isn't Prince Gendry still the rightful heir to the Throne?" She asked.

"Because, he can't be the King now." Edric scoffed. "He's a bastard like me. His mum was just some woman the king fucked and left behind. I mean, could you imagine a bastard on the Iron Throne? Would they name me King of the Seven Kingdoms if Gendry wasn't older? I don't think so."

"But Cousin Gendry is older than you, and Joffrey, who is also a bastard. And the Baratheons have the right to the Throne so why should it be the one who was raised in the Keep, the one who was raised to be King?"

"Careful," Edric warned jokingly. "You sound plenty treasonous to me. Don't make me tell the Red Lady and Stannis what you're saying" He sighed. "Besides, Gendry's like me, he's only half-Baratheon, you're father is all Baratheon."

"Nobody is all Baratheon." Shireen argued. "I'm half-Florent. My father's mother was of House Estermont. So not even the 'rightful kings' are all Baratheon. If you want someone who is fully of one house, they'd have to be born of incest, and that would be horrid. How can being born base be worse than that?"

"You're overthinking things. You get too trapped in that big head of yours. A bastard like me may only be half Baratheon, like you, but its your other half that matters. House Florent is a noble house, in the Reach, with a sigil and a castle and everything. My mother… well I don't know who she is. And that's why you're my better." He said it so begrudgingly.

Shireen loved her cousin Edric, she didn't care who his mother was, and she didn't care that he didn't know who she was either. They'd grown up together, and though the concept had been refuted by her teachers and her parents many times, she didn't feel like his better, she felt like his equal. Edric wasn't allowed to sit by their side at the High Table for feasts when fancy guests came to visit, and Shireen couldn't take part when Edric learned the longsword with Davos and his sons, she could only watch. They both were excluded but they both had much to gain. And they both took their lessons together, though she paid more attention to books than Edric.

He'd been raised a Storm, in her Uncle Renly's land, though she'd only been told this. Edric himself had only the vaguest memories of that life. And then around his third birthday he'd been sent to Dragonstone, Shireen had been one at the time. Her parents never spoke of why he was sent to them, only once did it come up that it was the decree of King Robert that Renly no longer be in charge of the child.

He and Shireen had grown up together. Both awkward and quiet children. Edric restless and aggressive, a gift from his father, and Shireen curious and questioning. The quietness was a veil. They were equals because they fell disappointingly short of what people expected of them. Shireen: the true born daughter of Stannis Baratheon, was unfit, as a woman, to inherit his lands. And Edric, a baseborn bastard, though he had the necessary parts, lacked a title. And so occasionally they'd both experienced the time when someone would look at them and sigh and think So close to so much more. They endured it together.

And now they were being separated. Shireen was to follow her father North to the Wall and Edric was to stay on Dragonstone, and suffer the boredom alone.

"It's not fair." He'd shouted when they'd told him yesterday. Stannis, Mellisandre and Lady Selyse had left the room, and only Shireen and Davos remained.

"It's only for a while." Shireen reasoned. "It's only so there's someone here when the Stark girl arrives." Shireen was promised a new friend, one of Ned Stark's daughter, seeking refuge and safety after the truth about the Royal family was released. Shireen had been eagerly awaiting her arrival after finding the letter on her father's desk. She was excited by the prospect of a new friend. But the girl was already a day late.

Davos watched in silence as Edric pouted and moped about the room.

"Why don't you have to wait for her?" He reasoned. "She's supposed to be your friend."

Shireen looked at Davos who looked at his shoes. They both knew why she was going and Edric was staying, though Davos didn't know that Shireen knew. Selyse had an unnatural hatred for her own daughter and Stannis no longer trusted the two alone. The Woman in Red had warped her mother's mind with all her talk of the great and power Lord of Light. Shireen was not a believer, and her face was marked with signs of ugliness and hatred.

Left alone with her mother, who knows what would happen. Though, she didn't like the thought of Edric being alone with her either. And she doubted she would make a good welcoming committee for the Stark girl.

"You'll follow up with us shortly, I'm sure." Shireen said

"King Stannis feels it is best that the Pri- that Shireen remains with him For her safety. After all m'lady, this is your first time away from home."

Shireen was still getting used to her newfound title. She'd decided she hated it. She hated the sound of it, she'd hated the implications of it. She hated that it had give her new, fresh value. Everyone was upset when the question of inheritance was unanswered, but who would hesitate to marry the daughter of the King of Westeros? Davos knew she hated the name, but still it was hard for him to shirk his pleasantries. He called her simply Shireen but only when they were alone, when she was teaching him to read, or right now.

It struck her then that he was right, this was her first time away from home, first time off the island. All her life her parents had thought her either too fragile or too ghastly to be shown off in public, but the island was there own little hovel of safety and secrets.

The next day as they boarded the boats that would spend the next few months carrying them North, Shireen waved goodbye to mother. She spent the morning consoling and hugging Edric and promising him that soon he would be having adventures too, but now the view from the shore seemed bleak and she was sure her promise would be broken.

New details had reached her father that morning of the riot in King's Landing. Apparently the night of Joffrey's wedding Queen Cersei had orchestrated a raid of the city resulting in the brutal murder of all Robert Baratheon's bastards.

"My kind are almost extinct." Edric said grimly. They could now count on their hands the known remaining Baratheon bastards, though her father had commenting that they could trust Robert to have scattered the land with his seed. The Queen's guards were now doing a sweep of the land, moving outwards in search of more of them. It was then decided that Edric would wait three more days for the Stark to arrive, and then Selyse would ship him East for his own protection.

How sending a boy of fifteen East on his own with no protection or knowledge of the land was a good idea was beyond Shireen, though she suspected their plan was to send Edric off just as unceremoniously as he'd arrived. Eric wasn't afraid, well he was, but he was adamant on swearing he wasn't. And he be accompanied by two of Davos' best men, one of whom was his own son Devan.

More details included that any of the new claimed kings were considered traitors to the Throne and were to be killed on sight. Lannister troops were apparently preparing to deal with Stark forces in the North, as a separatist rebellion was being led by Ned Stark's oldest son Robb. One of the Stark girls remained in the city, though no more had been heard of her since. And the other had disappeared. As had Catelyn Stark, days before the coup in the Capital. Gendry Baratheon was still missing as well, he'd somehow managed to evade the city. Now Joffrey Baratheon sat happily on the Throne, temporarily unopposed while everyone outside of the Keep questioned his legitimacy and his right to rule.

Shireen no longer knew who should rule, or who was right. She moved to Ser Davos' side, the two of them watched Dragonstone shrink in the distance. When she sighed he asked her, "What's wrong, Princess?"

"We've left our home, with so many unanswered questions, so many things still up in the air, so many dangers we don't even know enough about. And now we're going to a cold, dark, desolate land, and those answers will only get more out of reach."

"Sometimes you have to make your own answers." Davos answered. "One thing I know certainly is that King Stannis is the one true king. And that in order to rule the realm, to right the realm, we first have to save it. Those are the only answers that matter for now."

Shireen was not satisfied by this answer. Davos reached out his glove covered hand and patted her hair, "You're a curious girl, I know this, you'll find plenty to occupy your busy mind once we reached the North." Davos sighed. "It'll be a world neither of us has ever seen."

Shireen knew her path, next to her father and Davos, with the Lady in Red and the Lord of Light leading the way. But she didn't believe in any of that. Sure her father could be king, and perhaps some man living the flames was going to get him there. He would be a good king, fair and just and swift. But Shireen was a young girl of twelve and under her feet she could feel the strong waves of the sea carrying her from the only home she'd ever known. And there was something out there. She could feel it. Something wild and unknown, and it was waiting for her, and luckily she was just curious enough to go find it.

Only one Stark slept on the night of Eddard Stark's death.

The news arrived to Wintefell, to Robb, Bran and Rickon, later in the day, long after their father's body had been removed from the steps of the Keep. They shed tears together as Robb vowed revenge in his mind. And Theon Greyjoy stood off to the side, mourning the death of the man he'd considered a father.

Sansa Stark shivered, still kept in the walls of the Keep. Unable to process the horror she'd witnessed, let alone how she would get to safety. She trusted no one. She didn't know what to do. She had no one. Her mother was gone, her sister had disappeared early, and her father... her father... she couldn't even cry. She had nothing left in her, everything was gone and she was hollow.

Deep in the North, Jon Snow heard the news. Late in the night, he was filled with a rage he knew could only be matched by that of his half-brother Robb. Robb with all the power, all the ability to act, and here was Jon Snow, stuck on the Wall, staring out at the world with nothing but a sword and promise not to leave. But he had not anticipated this moment.

He thought of his last seconds with his father, of the promise that he would learn more, about his past, about himself. And now that had fallen to the wind.

He left Castle Black, Samwell Tarly shouting name and following after him. Jon drew his sword and began to slash at the trees, feeling no relief as the wood broke apart before him. Ghost watched silently from the darkness of the woods. Hours later he fell to the ground, the tree bark of the tree in front of him hacked all to bits.

Caitlin Stark wound wearily down the road to the Vale. Though she had yet to hear the news, she had her suspicions and she feared they would be confirmed the moment she reached her sister's home. Still she needed to reach safety, as quickly as possible. Her sons needed her, and she needed news of her daughters, if they'd made it out safely, she longed to hold all her children. To comfort them and to be comforted. She shed a quick tear, and refused to cry again, refused to believe that her husband, her Ned, could be gone.

She pushed on down the road, though Jory looked bleary eyed and tired, though the other men jolted awake atop their horses, half-consumed by sleep. She was still needed in this world and still needed so much more. So Catelyn Stark pushed on.

Arya was the only one who slept, under the watchful eye of Yoren, a brother of the Night's Watch. As the cart rolled along one of the more concealed Northern roads, she was still passed out. It was not a restful sleep, thoughts of her father's death rolled through her head. And it was not a voluntary sleep, it was the only way she would be removed from the Capital. But for now, she might be as close to safety as she would get for gods knew how long: Unconscious, on a cart, surrounded by criminals with her small sword no longer by her side. Though she didn't even know it, for now she was safe, because at least she was heading North.

While Stannis Baratheon and his daughter spread out along the sea. While Edric Storm chewed his lips nervously and stared off towards the East. While Renly Baratheon sat in Storm's End fitting a crown of antlers to his head and Robert Baratheon lay, dead and discarded in the Great Sept. While all the Baratheons scrambled throughout the Seven Kingdoms, while the Stakrs mourned and found fury of their own, while the remaining Baratheon bastards counted the rest of their living days on trembling fingers, Gendry Baratheon was elsewhere.

Gendry was searching, for others, retracing his steps, trying to find without being found. He'd never heard heavier footsteps than his own. He couldn't see the Red Keep behind him, but he could feel it. He knew he should try to turn back and go search again. But through the trees he could see criminals with eyes downcast heading to the Wall, and among them was Arya. And he knew he could never turn back again.

He tried to reassure himself that he'd done the right thing, that he'd done alright, that he'd done enough, that he'd done all he'd been asked to do, but no matter how he tried to tell himself he couldn't make himself believe it. So instead he watched Arya sleep, that sight of her so small made him know that at least, through all his failings, he'd done something good.