A/N Okay guys, this is part 2 of The Twins, the prompt that was asked for by Saint River. I know this goes against canon but the action at the Wall is not apart of this fic! Sorry!

And also to the Guest who commented last chapter, this whole Twins storyline is a part of a one-shot request that was asked by another author. It is not apart of the actual Blood Must Have Blood Storyline.

If any of you have more ideas for one-shots like these, just send me them and I'll get back to you! Or mention them in your reviews whatever works for you! Thank you all so much!

The Twins Part 2

It is only her maternal duty that brings her to Kings Landing. Her insides had tightened with guilt at the thought of leaving her children and Jon to Robb's. . . wrath for lack of better term. She let out a shaky breath inside the carriage, and looked down at her gloved palms. Winter was near, the Maester's kept on whispering. The long summer had ended shortly after the birth of the twins and winter had stayed for a while before slowly dissolving into spring. No summer had been as long as the long summer, and the supposed 'long night' had never come.

Everra wrinkled her nose at the smell of shit coming from the sewers of Kings Landing, before her features quickly smoothened into one of stone. Gods, she thought, I hope I leave Kings Landing with my head and my children. My gods what if he tried to take them to the North? Everra nearly shuddered at the thought but calmed herself, her back straightening like an arrow. Robb wouldn't do that, she told herself, he would never kill me. Or harm me. Never.

The carriage came to a stop. True to her word, Everra arrived approximately two days after the King had done so, and the moment she exited the carriage she immediately noticed the dire wolf banners and dragon banners amongst a field of southern and northern banners. She swallowed loudly, and was escorted to the great hall by a frightened servant, who looked at her nervously, as though she were about to rip out his tongue with her bare palms. She raised a cool eyebrow at him, as though daring him to say something. He quickly looked forward, his cheeks flushed red.

It took a few moments for all of her belongings and guards to be arranged in a manner the Queen had ordered and then before she knew it she was entering the great hall of the red keep, her eyes calm and aloof as she stared straight ahead. She noticed the Queen first, who sat on the Iron Throne with a regal expression. She was every bit a queen.

"Your grace," she said, curtsying appropriately. The Queen rose from her throne and walked down the steps to her before quickly saying, "Please, my lady, that is not necessary." She linked her arm with Everra's and began to walk, despite Everra's clear disregard for physical contact. "You and I have much to discuss," Daenerys continued, and Everra was sure to hide her misgivings. What do we need to talk about? She was already in trouble with one royal, the last thing she needed was for the Dragon Queen to want her dead as well. As if she read her mind, Daenerys removed her arm from her's and gestured forward, "I will leave you with your children."

She could barely muster a polite thank you before she caught eye of her children near the side of the room. They were looking at her with a happy expression on their faces but with a. . .cool look in their eye. Where is Robb? she wondered, and Jon? A pit began to form in her gut, but she ignored it and made her way to her children, ignoring the stares of the court and sending a cold glare back at people who stared too long. Where is Oberyn? she thought, he would make this slightly better. Of the many, many rumours of who the father of her children could be, the second most occurring possibility was that Oberyn was their father. She was quick to stop the rumours of course— with a little killing, and a little threatening— but she always subtly encouraged those with Oberyn. He knew them for one, he always sent them presents on their namedays, they were there for his wedding, hells, they even called him Uncle Oberyn when they were children. He was even there for their birth. If Oberyn ever realised what she was doing, he never mentioned it.

"Mother," Annabelle and Trystan said in unison. Her heart clenched slightly as she looked at them, and she resisted the urge to hug them both tightly, knowing that in a sea of rats any sign of weakness would be pounced upon. "Children," she replied, though she tried to soften her eyes in a way that could convey her pleasure at seeing them. They nodded indiscreetly, and her heart warmed ever-so-slightly.

"Jon," she said, changing the subject, "Where is he?"

At that, the both of them stilled and something entered their eyes as Trystan answered shortly, "With the King."

Everra's heart dropped to her stomach. "Oh," she responded softly, "I assume their meeting must be important for him not to be here."

"Yes," Annabelle said dryly, "I'm sure it is." Everra resisted the urge to scowl at her daughter, and shot her son a look when she saw his lips twitch. "The both of you are very funny," she said warningly, raising an eyebrow at them. She shot a glance backwards and saw that the court had already commenced. "I assume you both know where my chambers are?"

They nodded and soon enough they were entering her chambers— the one's she had stayed in when she was last here. Her insides tightened when she realised, and she steadied herself against the bedpost. The Twins were silent as they all stood there, the air heavy between them.

"You both have every right to be angry with me," she began, turning to face them, retracting her hand from the bedpost. She paused for a moment, and Trystan took it as an opportunity to speak, "Mother is. . .is he our father? Annabelle—" he stopped, and looked at his sister helplessly, "She has his eyes," he said gently, as though it were some horrible truth.

"Glad to know your power of observation has not been diminished, dear brother," Annabelle said snippily, shooting him a look which he returned. "Annabelle," Everra said sternly, staring her down before sighing. "Trystan now is not the time for such questions," she told him, glancing around the large room, "not here, not now. Kings Landing is a field of secrets and this one is simply waiting to be plucked out of the field. We are never alone here, my son. That is a lesson to the both of you," she said, glancing meaningfully between them, "Keep your secrets close to your chest my children, for people in this world, especially in this city will surely use them against you."

They nodded, both of them wearing a serious expression.

"The King shall wish to speak with me soon I expect," is all she said, "You both should make yourselves scarce. How long until your departure from Kings Landing?"

"A fortnight at the most," Trystan replied quietly, glancing at Annabelle whose face was contorted into one of thought. Everra nodded, and folded her arms in front of her body before walking up to them, and placing a hand on either of their cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "Neither of you deserve this suspicion that hangs over the both of you because of my choices. I apologise for that, truly."

"It's not your fault mother," Annabelle interjected, her blue eyes fierce and for a moment she looked so much like Robb Everra nearly retracted her hand. She swallowed loudly, and tried to ignore the lump in her throat, "You have given us so much. A good home, a good childhood, a good uncle. . .decent people to wed"

Everra scoffed and quipped back, "I should hope that the both of you find that the people you are wedding are more than simply decent." They both chuckled at that quietly, and Everra retracted her hands from their cheeks. "Go," she said, her voice now reverting back to her usual tone. They nodded and quickly left the room, leaving her alone with only her memories for company.

Jon had mentioned him whenever he came back from his travels North, but after she had cried over him once he always kept the details brief. She had heard of Robb's children, the eldest Ned and then Elayna and then Theo and then Talia. When she had heard of Talia's birth— heard what her name was, she had spent all night trying to write a letter of thanks, but somehow the words wouldn't come.

That had been the only time she had tried to write him in all these years.

He had never even tried.

Everra jumped at the sound of a knock on the door, and ignoring the beating of her heart, she called out for whoever it was to open the door. She was greeted by the sight of a nervous looking servant— with the dragon sigil embroidered on the side of his doublet. She stood there, and masked her surprise and relief at the sight of the sigil.

"Yes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and moved towards the doorframe.

"The Queen wishes to speak with you in the council room, my lady," the servant stammered, his face red, "I hope this is not a poor time?"

"No," She snapped coldly, "It is not."

He led her to the council room with an awkward silence hanging over them, and he hurriedly left the room when she was standing before the Queen.

"You're making friends," the Queen commented lightly, eyeing her with her violet eyes.

Everra watched her closely, her face calm and smooth as she regarded her. "I try, your grace, but it seems the people in your city do not seem to like me."

"A shame," the Queen sighed, her silver hair shifting as she took a sip of her wine, "For what I wished to offer you required you to stay here in, 'my city'."

Everra merely raised an eyebrow at her.

The Queen's eyes were filled with a cool curiosity as she regarded Everra from head to toe, almost as if she was admiring her.

"I want you to become my hand."

Both of Everra's eyebrow's rose high on her head.

"I was aware that you already have a hand, your grace," Everra replied, her green eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes but Ser Jorah would make a far better Lord Commander of the City Watch than a hand of the Queen and everyone is aware of it," Daenaerys snapped back, placing her glass on the table. "Your grace," Everra began calmly, her voice thinly laced with curiosity, "May I ask why?"

"Why I want you to be my hand?" The Queen asked, her words a question in itself before her forehead smoothed out. "I want you to be my hand Lady Everra because I think you are perhaps one of the smartest people in the whole of Kings Landing if not all the kingdoms. You helped King Robb win the war and everyone know's it while simultaneously making my rise to the throne without any blood spilt. It takes a lot of intelligence, and a lot of courage to accomplish something as such." There was a moment before she added, "You have also managed to ally yourself closely with two of the most distant kingdoms. You and the King of Winter share a brother," there was a pause as their eyes met across the table, and Everra's insides tightened as she remembered that the Queen most likely put two and two together since she kept her secret from Robb all of these years, "And you seem to be quite close with Oberyn Martell."

Everra was silent as she waited for her to finish.

"So, Lady Everra," The Queen finished, "Do you accept my offer?"

Everra came face to face with Jon when she returned to her chambers after her meeting with the Queen. She had been taken off guard by the queen's request and was further more so when she opened her door to find Jon sitting on a chair in her chambers.

"Jon," she called out loudly, stalking up towards him once she noticed the large bruise on the side of his face. "Everra," he returned, his dark eyes solemn as he rose from the chair. She halted in her steps at the expression on his face, and asked him quietly, "Did he. . .?" She didn't have to specify who 'he' was.

"Yes," Jon replied instantly, his voice even, "Though I suppose it is well deserved." The pit that had begun to grow in Everra's stomach was now more evident than ever. Still, she kept her composure. "Where is he?" she questioned, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"In his solar, fuming," Jon answered, wincing as he washed a hand over his face. Everra tried her best not to gulp. "Did you. . . did you confirm it?" she asked shakily, before clearing her throat. "I didn't have to," Jon snapped, his dark eyes then instantly softening with guilt, "He wishes to speak—"

"With me," Everra interrupted, but before she left she paused by the doorway and murmured loud enough for him to hear, "Thank you, Jon. For everything." For keeping this a secret from your other family. For being a father figure to my children. For loving them like they were your own. For being my brother when I had done nothing to deserve it.

"Your welcome," he murmured back, long after she had left.

It was only standing in front of him that she realised how much she had truly. . . missed him. He had aged obviously, there was a small scar on the edge of his chin that had not been there before, his auburn hair had a few strands of grey, though they were every few and he had a light stubble. But his eyes, his eye's were still the same shade of blue as they had always been, but they were now dark with anger as he glared at her from across the otherwise empty room, except for furniture.

"Your grace," she said uneasily, curtsying, "It is a pleasure to see you after such a long—"

"Stop," he commanded tonelessly, his chest beginning to heave ever-so-slightly.

She did and was careful to hide her anxiety as she regarded him with observant eyes.

"Robb—"

"How could you?" he grounded out, his blue eyes flaring. His jaw locked with anger as he stared at her, his eyes boring into her. "How—"he broke off angrily, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Robb," she trailed off helplessly, her heart clenching in her chest, 'I'm sorry," she whispered, moving forward towards him slowly, as though he were a wild animal ready to pounce. "Robb, you need to calm down and listen to me—"

"Calm down?" he snarled at her, "How in the bloody hell am I meant to calm down?" He whirled around so that his back was to her, his shoulders tightening as anger pounded through his veins. Everra stopped in her steps for a moment, taking in the familiar sight of his curls resting on his head, and before she could stop herself she lay a hand on his shoulder gently, coaxing him out of his anger, "Robb please—"

She was slammed back into a wall with a sudden jolt with Robb's arms on either side of her. "Stop telling me to calm down!" he roared in her face, his blue eyes wild with fury. Everra stared at him silently, watching as his jaw locked and his nose flared. Their faces were so close together that she could feel his breath on her face as he breathed. She watched with an unusual tenderness in her eyes as the fury began to slowly melt off his face, and his arms began to sag next to he read as the anger drained out of him, leaving only a raw hurt in his eyes that tugged at her heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against her's, "I shouldn't have—"

"Shh shh," she murmured, leaning her face closer into his so that their noses were almost touching, and her arms seemed to have a mind of their own as they planted her hands on his shoulders, "I'm sorry too." He let out a soft breath and murmured back, his eyes filled with hurt, "How. . how could you do that to me? Your children. . . our children. . . I never even knew. . . How did I not know?. . . Sansa. . .Tyrion. . . Jon. . ."

Her heart clenched as she gripped his shoulder's tightly under her grasp and yet she did not say anything. Their lips were so close together, and the longing that she had buried beneath so deeply beneath her skin began clawing at the surface and—

He tore away from her as if he had burned her, and Everra was startled at the fleeting guilt she felt when she remembered that Robb was married to a sweet girl, if what Jon said was true. She loves him, Jon had told her once, and then he had paused before telling her reluctantly, I think he loves her too, in his own way. She stood there against the wall for a moment, but before she could say anything Robb asked, "Do they know?"

He didn't have to clarify who they were.

"Did you ever tell them?" He continued on, not waiting for her to answer.

It took her a moment to find the words to respond. "They asked me when they were younger but I always promised that I would tell them when they were older." She paused before she continued, her heart heavy in her chest, "And then the day came where I tried to tell them a few months ago before they left home for their travels but. . ." her heart clenched painfully as she looked at him, and something was suddenly lodged in her throat she finished, "But they didn't want to know."

He flinched as though she had slapped him. "When?" he asked suddenly, turning around to face her, though he was looking at anything but her. She waited for him to clarify, "When did you become with child?"

"A moon or two before the battle of Kings Landing, maybe a little longer," she answered honestly. His eyes fluttered up to meet hers then, "You knew you were pregnant with my child when I begged you to marry me and you still said no?" he asked, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Everra did not hesitate when she answered, "Yes." He laughed bitterly at that, and Everra stood there watching him helplessly.

"This. . . this changes everything," he eventually said, once his laughter had run dry. Everra raised her eyebrow at him slightly, and spoke softly, "I know this must be hard for you to grasp but—"

"I don't mean that, Everra," Robb interrupted impatiently, "I mean that—that Trystan and Annabelle," their names sounded as though they struggled to come out of his mouth, "Are older than my children with Roslin, which means that by the law's of the land they are a part of the line of succession. Trystan should be the one to succeed me, not Ned." His face was pained as he said it, his eyes wide with shock. Everra stared at him in horror, resisting the urge to gape at him, 'What?" she said incredulously, "Trystan is not going to be your heir of anything," she snapped, "No one know's who my children's father is—"

"Our children's," Robb corrected, anger now returning to his eyes, "And are you possibly suggesting that I ignore this and deny Trystan his birthright? I did not know I even had another son— or another daughter! If I had known. . ."

"They are legitimised under my name, Robb," Everra insisted, her voice growing colder every passing moment, "Not your's. I am sorry that you are hurt, I am, truly. I am sorry that I lied to you and kept them from you, and convinced Jon to do the same but you will not commit this insanity." There was a moment when their eyes met across the room furiously, and the words she spoke next built a wall between them, "I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" he questioned softly, looking slightly taken aback by her words, "They are my children too! I am that their father and you took that away from me! You never even gave me the chance to be their father, and now they don't even care who I am because of—" He stopped mid-sentence, a look of realisation edging across his face, "Everra how did you manage to keep them a secret from Tyrion and Sansa? If they had known for sure that they were my children they would have told me immediately, which mean's that they think that someone else is the father even though Annabelle has my eyes. Who?"

She looked away from him when she answered, "Oberyn. They have never met the twins I never let them though Tyrion is aware that they exist and Sansa as well. Oberyn was there in the months leading up to their birth and he has always been close to the twins and was there when they were born so many people believe that he is their father—"

"Stop for a moment," Robb commanded, his eyes filling with hurt and apprehension, "Oberyn— Oberyn was there when you gave birth to our children and I wasn't?" He looked as though she had just shoved a knife into his heart. She nodded limply, watching him with tender eyes. "By the seven," he breathed, "How will I explain this to Roslin? To my children? To Ned?"

"You're not going to explain anything," Everra exclaimed, "No one know's who the children's father is and I plan for it to stay that way."

"How can you ask that of me?" Robb questioned, his hands moving as he spoke passionately, "How can you ask me to keep this a secret from my own family—"

"Robb please—"

"No," he protested vehemently, "No they are my children too, you have had them their whole lives, they deserve to see— to know a part of them that is in their blood—"

"You want to take them to the North—"

"We are going to have to do something about the succession and Ned and Elayna and Theo and Talia—"

He was interrupted by the sound of her palms slamming down on the table with a loud thud. "You are not taking my children away from me!" She snarled at him fiercely, "I will go to war with you if I have too!" They stared at each other, shock etched out on both of their features. They had gone to war with each other once, and now a war was brimming between them.

Everra's features softened, and before she could stop herself she was standing in front of him and cupping his cheek with a sliver of softness in her eyes. "I loved you once," she told him, her voice strong yet soft, "I still do, and I know you loved me too. And I know that you love your children more than anything in this world, I also know that you love Roslin in your own way, and I can't promise you many things, but I can promise you this; if you do this, you will not only lose me, you will lose them too and our children will be stuck in the middle and blamed for the rest of their lives." Her eyes lingered on his lips for a moment before they rose back up to his eyes, "Please Robb, I'm begging you. If you ever once loved me, you won't say anything. Tell Roslin and your children in private if you wish it when the time is right but— don't announce it to the world. Please."

"You're different," Robb whispered, "You're kinder, more gentle. It's a good change."

"They make me better," is what she replied before gingerly retracting her hand from his cheek but stopped when he put his hand on top of her's, holding it in place. "I. . ." he let out a sigh before closing his eyes tightly, "I still love you too." Everra looked at him, looked into those blue eyes and muttered, "But you love Roslin." She took a step away from him, averting her eyes from his. "I do," he admitted reluctantly, a look of guilt passing over his face and just as he was about to say something more, she shook her head and headed over to the door.

"The Queen offered me the position of becoming her hand," she said, pausing just before the door. She sent him a glance over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his as she added, "I think I'm going to accept." And then she left before he could call her back.

It took her a moment to realise that someone was opening a secret passage that led into her chambers at night. Everra grabbed a hold of one of her knives and waited for the person to enter her room, her knife at the ready, and nearly gasped once she caught sight of who it was.

"Robb!" she exclaimed, climbing out of her bed and moving over towards him, "What in the seven hells?"

"I needed to see you," he answered evenly, moving through the door but not closing it behind him, since it was only accessible from behind the wall, "And I knew that if I came to your chambers at night where everyone can see the rumours would run wild."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Everra ventured, "And you decided that sneaking into my room in the middle of the night was the best idea? Robb, I could have killed you."

His lips quirked up into a small smile before it quickly melted off his face.

"What do you want, Robb?" Everra asked tiredly, "I understand that you must still be angry but—"

"I love Roslin," he blurted out. Everra stared at him for a moment before nearly snapping at him but he spoke again before she could, "But I am in love with you, Everra. It's always been you." She tried to ignore the pounding of her heart but she couldn't.

"For just one night, do you think we could just belong to each other?" he asked her, staring into her eyes intently. Everra answered by capturing his lips with her own. It was strange, she would muse later on, it had been so many years, so many long years but it felt as though no time had passed at all. Touch had a memory, it would seem, and they quickly buried themselves in it.

When they were done a few hours later, with sweaty skin and tousled hair and lying in each other's arms, soaking in each other's warmth, Robb spoke, "Tell me about them."

Everra shifted slightly so that she could look him in the eye and asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," he replied wistfully, his eyes gentle and slightly sad.

She hesitated for only a mere moment before speaking, "They are the closest of friends and yet they are so, so different from each other. Annabelle was born first by a few moments, and she constantly teases Trystan over it, it drives him mad. Annabelle is witty and passionate but impulsive and quick to anger but she is smart, so incredibly smart. Trystan is different. He is more quiet and wise and quick to think before he acts. They complete each other in many ways. It will be hard for them to separate when they wed in a few moons. They met their betrothed's a little over a year prior. . ." she wove him stories of their childhood that made them laugh and smile, and other's that caused cracks across their hearts as she told them, moments the children had been judged for having no father, moments when Everra didn't think she could be a mother on her own. But the good outweighed the bad, and when she was finally finished, dawn's rays were shining through the cracks of the blinds.

"I wish I could have been there," Robb told her, his eyes shining.

"Maybe if the world had been kinder," Everra replied, burying her head in his shoulder.

"Maybe," Robb agreed sadly.

A/N I hope you all enjoyed this! If any of you have more idea's for one shots of your own, just send them to me! Thanks! Please R&R!