The Lion, The Wolf, and The Falcon

Prologue

It pleased her to see that the sheep knew well enough to fear her, as she marched through the halls of the Red Keep. They moved out of her way as she stormed, if anyone was a fool to not move then she would simply keep going and what did she care if they were knocked to the ground? Her rage was burning deep inside, fiercer and more terrible than wildfire could ever hope to be.

She reached her destination, never a place that she would ever go willingly but where she needed to be, her royal husband's apartments. Barristan the Bold and Meryn Trant had the honor of guarding the king that day but Cersei did not give them a chance to stop her as she pushed past them and slammed through the doors into the main hall beyond the doors.

Robert was eating, of course, he was. It was the thing that gave him the most joy when he wasn't out hunting or in some harlot's bed, a large silver platter larger than a shield dominated the table, and atop it was large steaks of venison and sausages made from boar meat, roasted vegetables, and golden beets, pears poached in red wine and honey cakes and a pitcher of something that had to be either ale or wine.

When he heard the doors open he turned his fat head towards her and scoffed in disgust as if he had any right to be disgusted by her. "What do you want woman?" He asked before he filled a pewter cup up with thick dark ale from his pitcher.

Her rage blinded her and she surged forward, knocking the cup out of his meaty ham of a hand, "You vile bastard!" She spat at him, Cersei only knew anger when she thought of her husband but this sort of sheer rage she had only felt one time before when the drunken bastard had struck Joffrey so hard that he had knocked some of his teeth out and left a massive bruise that had taken months and months to fade.

Cersei's heart still hurt when she thought of how her precious boy had come running to her, sobbing and blood pouring out of his mouth. She had never been so frightened in her life, she had never been so angry before. She had told Robert that night that if he ever laid a finger on any of her children again then she would see him dead, the bruises that promise had won her had been worth it.

He had never touched one of her children ever again.

But it seemed that he had found another way to hurt them, to hurt her, that did not require to have a single finger be laid on either of them. "Did you really think that I would keep quiet while you plotted to send my son away from me, my youngest son, my baby boy! I will not have it! Tommen is too young, I will not let you do this."

"Woman, I'm the king and the lad's father, where he is fostered is my purview and there's naught you can do about it. You have Joff and the girl to content yourself wife, besides I wasn't that much older than Tommen when I was sent to foster with Ned in the Vale."

"Tommen isn't like you!" She cursed, Tommen was a sweet boy, a good boy. He was always so happy to see her, his big green eyes would light up and he would half toddle, half run towards her on his fat little legs and take fistfuls of her skirts and chirp at her what he had done that day and what he had learned and how much he had missed her.

Her sweet boy, tears threatened to well in her eyes as she thought of him being so far away from her in the cold North with Ned Stark raising him instead of her. Tommen was gentle and tender, how long until his spirit broke under Ned Stark's coldness. It was a hard land the North, it would break her boy she was certain enough of that.

But she would not let the tears fall, she would not let Robert see them. Not him. "He's just a babe, he's too young to be fostered anywhere! He will be so alone in the North, he needs to be here with me!"

Robert shook his head, his wiry mass of a beard shook with the movement. "Ned's got a son the same age as the boy, more or less. Brandon, I think his name is. And he's not going to be fostered alone, Jon's sending his son up north as well."

Cersei shook her head and began to pace, as she always did when she felt her patience begin to fray. "No. No. No! He is my son, I will not have this! You can write to Ned Stark and tell him you changed your mind but Tommen will not be leaving the capital, I will not let you do this."

Robert looked at her for a long moment, then rose from the table.

Her belly was still tender as she made her way back through the corridors of the Red Keep, Robert would never be so bold as to leave a bruise on her face where anyone who was anyone could see it. Her husband was a weak man and he wanted to be loved, to be cheered, more than anything else. If he left his marks on her visible, then some might not love him anymore or cheer at his name.

If he had left a bruise where Jaime could see then her brother would have killed him.

She made her way to the nursery where he son would be waiting for her, his septa rose as soon as she walked in and bowed to her but Cersei did not pay her any mind as she walked towards the center of the nursery where her son was playing with some wooden blocks and a doll of a cat made from the softest linen.

"Mama!" Tommen chirped at her and when Cersei sat down next to him she opened her arms so the boy could climb into her lap, she pressed a kiss to his pale blond curls and held him tight to her as if that could keep him close to her.

She ignored the rest of the world, the plots and the schemes and the plans to take her away from him, and just held her boy.

"No! No! Not my baby! No!" Jon frowned as Lysa's screaming grew louder with every single word, it took three serving maids to hold her back as she tried to reach for Robert, who was currently in his arms and clinging to his shirt while he shook gently and sobbed.

"Lysa, please. You must try and calm yourself. You are frightening him." Jon said, speaking gently both for the sake of his wife and his son in order to try and calm the both of them down.

It didn't work.

"No! No! He's mine, give him back to me! Give him back!" Lysa sobbed roughly as she tried to break free from the maids that were holding her back, tears running down her cheeks. "Jon, Jon please! He's just a baby, just a little baby. He's my only son, the only one that lived. Please don't take him from me, please! Please! I beg of you please!"

For a long moment he considered relenting, to see the distress that this was causing his wife and the sorrow it was causing his boy as well, Robert had turned in his arms and was now trying to reach for his mother and sobbing for her.

But he was a lord and he had his duties to fulfill and so he allowed his heart to hardened and turned his back on Lysa and walked out of the room, ignoring the feeling of Robert beating at his chest with all the strength of snowdrops and the sound Lysa's screams growing, both in volume and in heartbreak.

Once he was outside he handed Robert over to his septa, who took him and gently started to coo at him before taking him away from the source of his distress, if that was his mother or Jon himself he wasn't certain.

He sighed heavily and turned to Maester Colemon. "Prepare some dreamwine for my wife, if you would be so kind good Maester. I fear that she will need a great deal of it in order to sleep tonight."

"Of course, my lord," Colemon hesitated and thumbed at his chain. "It is not for me to question my lord, I am sworn to serve and do so gladly but little Robert is very young to be fostered."

"He is," Jon coincided as he glanced at the doors that lead into his wife's bedchamber, the screaming had stopped now and Lysa had simply dissolved into endless sobbing as her maids tried in vain to give her some sort of comfort. "And yet my wife does cling to him so tightly, she has barely put him down for even a moment and does not let him sleep in the nursery, she has his cot next to her bed at all times."

"I've caused pain today maester, I do not doubt it is something that I will not be forgiven quickly for and yet in the end it may prove all for the best, I hope so at the very least."

"Now, prepare the dream wine."

"Brandon!"

A round and happy face stared down at her from the highest branch of the tallest tree in the godswood, smiling down at her like he was not disobeying the most simple of instruction that she had given him. It was hard to not let the smile touch her heart and hold on to her sternness, it had to be done and she would not allow him to fall if she could help it.

"Come down, now!"

Brandon obeyed her, and her heart nearly stopped as he leaped from branch to branch until he was close enough to the ground, and once he was on the ground he ran to her and wrapped his arms around her skirt as if that might distract her.

Catelyn placed her hands on Bran's shoulders and pushed him gently back and held him at arm's length as she stared into his eyes, the same deep blue as her own. "How many times must you be told to not climb? If you fall you could break every single bone in your body."

"I don't fall." Her youngest chirped at her and not for the first time when it came to raising her children she wished that she was a lowborn woman with a thick and heavy wooden spoon to beat some sense into her children.

"You have not fallen yet," she corrected him as she moved out a hand to push an errant lock of red hair back behind her son's ear. "When Prince Tommen and your cousin Robert Arryn you must promise me you will not take them climbing, if something was to happen to either of them it could cause us a great deal of trouble. I want you to promise me, Bran, no more climbing now."

Bran looked downhearted and kicked at a little mound of dirt and leaves but he did promise her and so she decided to leave it as a battle won for the moment before reaching down to take her baby's hand and began to lead him back towards the castle.

"How long will Prince Tommen and cousin Robert be staying?" Bran asked as they exited the gate of the godswood.

"For a very long time Brandon, they are being fostered with us. Do you know what that means?" Brandon shook his head and Catelyn grinned down at him. "Well, it means that they are going to be living with us, it's a way of building our friendships with other houses and it shows the trust they have in us and in your Lord Father, so you must be sure to be very nice to them. But they will be friends that you can play with as well."

She hoped that would please him, Robb and her husband's bastard played with Bran as often as they were able but they were older boys and had little duties of their own as well as other friends to spend their time with and while Arya was close to Brandon in age she often did not like to play with him and often chased him away when she tried to do so.

Sansa spent time with him as well but only to read him stories of knights and ladies fair, which Brandon enjoyed to be sure but he was a little boy and he could only sit still for so very long.

"Isn't cousin Robert a baby?" Bran asked, suspicion covering his words.

Catelyn could not help herself, she laughed. "He's only two years younger than you! If he's a babe then by all rights so are you!" She grinned then and scooped Bran up, her grin growing wide as Bran shrieked. "You are mother's little baby, aren't you? Yes, you are!" Catelyn cooed at him and made a show of pressing very wet kisses to his plump cheeks.

"Mother!"

End of Prologue

Welp, this is another story that I have toying with and I hope people are excited to read it!

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With a ton of love,

DiscordantSymphony