Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money from the Game of Thrones Series.

A/N: This is an AU of the series, featuring mainly with Stannis winning the Blackwater and losing his wife long before the events of Game of Thrones. It also features an OC from the Stark Family, an eldest Daughter, Gwyneth, who had also become a captive with Sansa. I will update when I can and this will be a linear drabble series.

However, please read and enjoy.

Drabble One

Long Live King Stannis

The battle raged on, the screaming of men and clash of steel echoing throughout the Red Keep was just as apparent indoors as out. Servants scuttled with armfuls of household items were either cut down as the men marched, or taken to a secure location. Stannis didn't win a siege or battle by being foolish and allowing people free to cut him down from behind.

Pools of blood stained the stone floor and bodies of looters were pushed to the side. The lack of soldiers was a little disconcerting, however the rumour of his impending victory, despite the wildfire, roared faster than the supernatural green flames—perhaps encouraging desertion or a switch of sides?

Davos, ever faithful and loyal, kept close after swimming to shore and meeting up with him. Tears still stained his cheeks from watching his oldest boy perish so soon in the battle. Deep down, Stannis felt a pang of sympathy and guilt, similar to what he felt when his late wife passed in childbirth, losing the babe with her life.

The doors to the Throne Room were conspicuously empty of guards. He gestured for them to open the heavy entryway with caution, all men poised for an impulsive last stand. As each door creaked open with a pounding echo, battle plans and actions skimmed his mind as he waited for a sign of any enemy.

Instead, the sight that greeted him was nothing like what he expected at all.

Before he could really take in what he saw, a little boy—the boy Tommen—tried to dart past his men, only to be caught. Waving off his men, he began walking into the hall, his eyes unable to break free from what was happening in front of the Iron Throne.

Stories from the North had been floating about for years—centuries even, yet this was the first time he put any stock into the legends. Before him, showing every part of the vengeful spirit stood Lady Gwyneth Stark looking every inch the fierce Northern woman. The blue, crushed velvet dress was almost as dark as the shadows around them. Her long dark hair was astray from the elaborate braiding her Handmaiden had placed it in during the daylight hours and a dark bruise bloomed on the white skinned cheek.

What had him frozen was the fallen form of the Whore Queen Cersei, being held in place by a wickedly sharp dirk held by the Northern Lady.

Winter blue eyes darted to his then Lady Gwyneth took two steps away from the fallen woman. With a strong and steady voice, she called out to him. "Greetings, Your Grace, welcome to Kings' Landing. I offer Cersei, the traitor Queen as a welcoming gift to you."

There was a form of vicious satisfaction laced in her words. What had this girl—this woman—seen here?

A movement in the shadows caught the corner of his eye. A soft death rattle could barely be heard as his eyes adjusted to the fallen form of Ser Illyn Payne. Blood poured from the wound on his neck, drowning him slowly. Deep in the shadows a woman shifted, exiting through the side doors, her gown soaked in red.

The Keep was a house of the dead and dying, bathed in an eerie green glow from the wildfire burning everything it touched in the Bay. Stannis could only imagine the horrors the walls had witnessed since his brother's death.

He turned back to the women before him, his guard's armour creaking loudly as they shifted uncomfortably. What was going to happen in the next few moments? All of his instincts were screaming at him to go cautiously. After all, it was only one of the Stark daughters in the hall, where were the other two?

"Lady Gwyneth Stark," he greeted, walking forward. His guard moved with him, half a step behind. "Are you well?"

Not the most respectful, nor gentle manner to ask, but then again, he wasn't a courtier but a soldier.

An almost crazed laugh bubbled from her lips as her eyes widened. "Am I well?" she repeated, his grip tightening on the blade, "As well as I can be, I suppose, Your Grace. I haven't been married off or raped yet."

He frowned at her words. "My Lady?" he queried, hoping to avoid any sort of wordplay.

"Do you know what Lannisters do to those left behind?" she asked softly, "They beat young girls for the actions of others. My sister and I were stripped before court, humiliated and beaten by the supposed Kingsguard for the amusement of those too cruel and cowardly. Her child threated my sister with a crossbow and made us say such horrible things about my family—"she broke off with a sob, before continuing on, her voice becoming a whisper. "They tortured us more when my brother won his battles. She was going to have us killed if you broke the shore."

Her face, while still beautiful in a cold, winter's way, turned into a sneer as she looked back to the fallen Queen. Cersei had been trying to compose herself through the speech, trying to become more dignified as the realisation sunk in that she was going to die, that it was all over.

"Where is my SON!" she cried out, breaking the two out from their stare. "Where is my Joffrey?!"

Stannis looked at her with disgust. "He has been taken prisoner, woman, waiting to be executed publicly as soon as I can arrange it."

A cry ripped from her throat in anguish. Hate filled her green eyes. "You'll pay for this," she hissed. "My father won't allow this to happen, Jamie will come for me, just you wait!"

"Let them come," came the impassive words, "I will break them as I broke through your defences. Your incest and the product of your incest has caused a rot in the Seven Kingdoms that only your death can heal. Anyone who objects my claim will be dealt with swiftly. Your father will be one of them. Take her to the blackest pit you can find until I'm ready to deal with her."

A guard came forward, dragging the fallen queen away from the room. Stannis moved closer to Lady Gwyneth, his hand reaching out to take the blade from her shaking fingers. She was like a frightened doe now, her eyes wild and her lips trembling. "Its over now," he said, his tone a little sharp to what he hoped for. "

"The North Remembers, Your Grace," she murmured, her eyes still tracking Cersei.

"She will pay for everything she had a hand in," he replied. "I will allow you to attend the sentencing and execution should you wish it."

Gwyneth looked at him then, looked at him properly. "I will trust you to see this through. My father once told me you were a man of your word and I've seen enough executions to last a lifetime."

"Your time as a hostage is over—you are an honoured guest here until I can treat with your brother for a satisfactory ending for the both of us. Speed will be a necessity with this." He offered her his arm to escort her away from the Iron Throne.

"Winter is Coming," she stated, turning her back to the suffering and torture and towards a new future.