Chapter Fity-Eight

…..

The Crypts of Winterfell

For a thousand years, the Crypts of Winterfell has played host to a plethora of dead Starks. It is here that the ancient kings of old are interred alongside with many of their relatives. It goes so deep that the current Starks do not truly know how deep the catacombs go. Very few outsiders have been permitted to enter the Crypts and fewer have gone more than a few levels. Those that do however are considered as the greatest of friends of a current Lord Stark.

"It does not look like her at all," Robert wistfully muses and Ned bows his head at the emotion in Robert's tone. Say what you will about Robert but he truly does love his sister. Robert in their younger days is carefree, wild and powerful with a heavy burden on his shoulders. Ned suspects that Lyanna is Robert's anchor, the one he expects that would change him and convince him fully to turn to the right path. Alas, it is a great What If in all of their lives.

"She should be somewhere down South with me, where flowers grow and beautiful grasses where she can dance with the sun," he sniffs sadly.

"Her place is here with her family Robert," responds Ned, their old argument for a thousandth time coming up when it is decided where Lyanna should lie.

"I know that damnit!" he stomps his foot angrily. "I still dream of bashing that bastard's chest you know, many nights. I can recall the smash of my hammer in his chest, the rubies on it flying in all directions. I can hear his chest cracking like an egg over the force wiping that smug grin off his face as he spouts Targaryen madness about some sort of prophecy. Inbred fuckers the lot of them are Ned. A thousand deaths is not enough for what he does to my Lyanna,"

"You did not bring me here to reminisce about the death of Rhaegar simply did you Robert?" asks Ned making Robert snort.

"Cold and straight to the point as usual Ned. You are always a bore, but that's why I keep you around, to keep my idiotic ass in line back when we're younger,"

"For the record Robert, you do need to be kept in line," Ned replies recalling the shenanigans that Robert goes up into and with Ned being dragged along.

"You are right on that as usual you frigid Northener. Alas Ned, I need you to keep me in line again. This death of Jon, well long story shirt Ned has gone tits up. I need a new Hand of the King and I would have you take the office," sighs Robert unhappily. "Gods know you'll hate it but you'll do it. I know you will,"

Ned Stark only blinks. While this is something that he has been expecting since the letter arrived from King's Landing about Robert's arrival. It still feels a little bit surreal happening right now. The position of being Hand of the King means basically that he is the Second Most Powerful Man in Westeros with opportunities and freedom throughout the Seven Kingdoms and beyond. For a Northern Lord who doesn't even get remembered down South, it is a great thing.

"You honor me with your words Your Majesty, I will serve to the best of my ability," Ned responds with a bow in his knees again.

Robert only laughs at his words bodily pulling him up to his feet. "I am not trying to honor you damnit! I am trying to get you to rule my kingdom while I whore and drink myself to an early grave. This damned kingship position is supposed to be yours Ned and we are destined to rule together. But alas you have to crawl your butt off here back at Winterfell,"

"There should always be a Stark at Winterfell Robert," replies Ned.

"I know, you Northeners and your strange traditions but that's why I love you all. Anyway this is the closest that I can get you to the damned crown position. Also it would put you in a favorable setting for the betrothal that I am offering you also,"

"Betrothal, Robert?"

"Yes," nods the fat man his jowls going with it. "You and I? The two of us have always been destined as brothers. I am supposed to marry Lyanna after all. Now I have a son and you have a daughter his age. It is the perfect timing for us to bind our two houses together,"

Ned partly grimaces at that. The reports of some of the merchants of Rivendell that travels up North about the Crown Prince is….highly questionable. Something about sadistic, lack of morals and a "reincarnation for the Mad King". While he usually would not pay attention to such rumors. It is highly idiotic for him not to sniff a bit before making a decision. A betrothal after all with the royal family is the best kind of opportunity that his eldest daughter would get. He winces again at the Southern way style that Catelyn educated their eldest daughter with. Yep, Sansa is destined to the South, period.

"I would need to have a talk with my wife about this Robert. At least give me some time," replies Ned.

"I understand Ned. I do expect however that you would be able to make a decision at least before we leave for King's Landing. I however have another reason that I brought you down here where no one can hear us at least,"

The sudden change of Robert's mood from jovial to complete seriousness catches Ned's full attention. The last time he has seen Robert being this serious and sneaky, they are planning a way to rebel against the Mad King and overthrow the Targaryen dynasty. In a way right now, Ned would rather prefer happy jolly Robert than serious Robert. At least happy jolly Robert doesn't make him feel like there's an impending doom coming like a ship straight to his face.

"Yes, this is a secret that I would fully trust on you Ned," he takes a deep breath as if he's about to dive into the water. "It is about who would inherit my crown once I finally drink myself to death. Majority of the Lords and ladies expect that it would be Joffrey that would. I might have agreed with them if I know how badly the Crown would sit on my son's head. That boy is not ready for it in anyway. Damned mother of his spoiled him rotten," he grumbles.

"Robert, don't tell me that you're going to name Tommen as your heir. That would set a bad precedent on everyone, the Crown Prince being usurped by the spare!" exclaims Ned flabbergasted.

His reply actually surprises Robert who blinks at his words. "What? No! Of course not. While I would agree that Tommen would actually be a good and gentle king compared to his brother, he is too timid and too kind. The Court fuckers would rip him apart and spew his carcass out in seven different ways,"

"But if it is not Joffrey or Tommen you are planning on naming then-," Ned pauses as his brain finally connects the dots of what Robert is trying to say.

"Robert you can't do it! No! Westeros never has a female ruler before!" Ned exclaims heatedly for the second time. "Last time a female ruler tried to bid for the throne, it resulted to the Dance of Dragons which I might say destroyed House Targaryen in the long run,"

"You don't think I don't know that?" grumbles Robert unhappily kicking a nearby stone in frustration. "However she is the only logical choice for this kingdom. She is well-trained and knowledgeable of the politics in Westeros. She has also proven her mettle in battle and is very strong-willed," he smirks at that. "She is a Baratheon through and through. Change her hair color from blonde to Stark black or brown and one might say that she could have been the child of Lyanna and me,"

"Don't joke about that Robert, here of all places," Ned rumbles in warning.

"I know I know, sorry about that Ned. Either way she's got strong support already. The Lady of Rivendell with all it's resources I know would support her in a heartbeat. I've seen the closeness between Delianah Tully and my daughter. If not for the fact that they are both women then I might have suspected that they have been fucking one another," he chuckles before regaining his composure.

"I know where Delianah goes the rest of Riverrun will follow. The same goes with the Westerlands. As much as I don't like the Old Lion prick, he is necessary to keep my wife in line. He is also practical and would see the reasoning that I am making. I also have been getting back in touch with many of the Houses of the Stormlands and reassuring their loyalty to my House. When the time comes, I hope at least that my daughter would have three, four kingdoms that is if the North supports my decision also that would back her as High Queen,"

Ned only sighs. As insane as Robert's idea is right now, he already knows that he will follow him for he is his king and already has sworn his oath on him if Robert thus decides on this path. Still though…..

"Many Houses would not like this decision of yours Robert. It is not very…..traditional; and you would be dealing with internal strife on your family," points out Ned.

"Leave my family to me," Robert waves off. "I am their father and their king and they will suck it up either they like it or not. As for the rest, bah! Traditional my ass. If we retained that thinking then the damned Targs would still be ruling over us. I have seen these past few years that traditional doesn't mean always right. We have smashed the damned dragons didn't we? And we didn't use anything but sweat, blood, muscle and steel to do it too, an entire dynasty toppling down. The bastard Tully proves it too challenging the centuries old grip of the Faith of the Seven back South. Now I see bastards worshipping damned trees every now and then like you Northeners do. Tradition doesn't mean always right. So, I'm asking you Ned, are you with me on this?"

Ned only sighs, rubbing the back of his head. He already knows his answer before he says it. "Of course Robert I am with you like always,"

Somehow he can't erase from his mind, the image of the Stag almost goring the Direwolf on the throat by its antlers.

…

Winterfell

Tywin waits patiently as he sits on his current temporary office. Unlike the rest of the sheep down South, he does appreciate the practicality of the North. In a frigid place like these, the Northmen have not only survived but thrived. Every action of theirs bred to survival and that fortunately makes them a bit more intelligent than the local random Southener who which in Tywin's opinion have shits for brains.

Winterfell is simple, large and impregnable. Easy to maintain, easy to repair and easy to take shelter to. In frequent winters, its simplistic design and structure would be a hard thing to crack if not impossible. The Kings of Winter and the Stark Lords are wise to adapt this lifestyle instead that of the Southeners. Practicability and simplicity is an easy thing to choose when very little people do try and visit your keep. It also lessens expenses for the House and conserves money for more important stuff.

As it is though the usual drab guest room has been redecorated in every inch by the servants of Tywin. He might appreciate the simplicity of the Northeners but he is a Lannister and that name is parallel to gold. He has declined the invitation to stay on the royal rooms and chooses a separate one for himself alone. This gives him the privacy and the protection from poking eyes. As it is the room are now sporting red curtains, lion banners, beautiful oak desks, comfy chairs and armchairs with cushions, the straw bed kicked out and replaced with a feathered one. All in all a standard Lannister room with all its luxuries.

Tonight however there is a very good reason that Tywin has personally requested a personal separate room. Sensitive subjects will be talked about tonight and he won't have prying ears on them.

A knock on his door makes Tywin look up from the oaken desk that he is sitting in. "The Princess Myrcella Lord Tywin," calls out his guard from outside.

"Let her in,"

With a wordless nod of acknowledgement, the guard opens the door wider presenting what perhaps is the most successful out of all the Royal Children. He raises an eyebrow at her attire. Instead of a dress, she is wearing a red form-fitting bodysuit that eerily looks a lot like the one that her mentor wears. Her hair is in a ponytail and she completely excludes confidence in every pore. Tywin approves at her non-terrified approach as she sits across him from his desk.

"I know you would go with the intimidation tactic by letting me wait as you do some nonsensical things Grandfather but let us cut to the chase shall we," her sudden declaration makes the eyebrows of the Old Lion shoot to his hairline.

"You have learned some bad manners from your teacher granddaughter. Patience is always a trait required from every lord or lady," he responds cooly.

"I know the value of patience Grandfather. I also know however the value of time. Each has a proper place to be used and unfortunately you sitting there while I squirm here under your gaze is what I would say, "wasting my time"," she replies.

Tywin almost barks in laughter at that. Fiery indeed, very good in his opinion. "I summoned you here to discuss the contents of your letter," he finally cuts to the chase taking a letter from his desk. "I do not know whether I should call you an idiot right this very second or not. However I deduced that you would not be so stupid as to let yourself be influenced by emotions without reason. So I am giving you the chance today to explain why you want my support on a betrothal with your teacher and break taboos that would turn the Faith against us,"

"Easy grandfather, as you already know I am in charge of many of Rivendell's affairs. My teacher gives me enough freedom that I might peek here and there. I know about the current state of our House. Unless we find some source of major income soon, we would be unable to lead the lifestyle that we are used to. As it is House Lannister is leaning heavily currently on the businesses of Rivendell so that we won't be forced to reach into our own storages. Knowing you grandfather, you have been wracking your brains as to how to formally tie the Lady of Rivendell to us and cement the alliance. The easiest way of course is marriage,"

"And why do you think I haven't done that yet Granddaughter?" asks Tywin.

"The Lady Delianah improved her station in life by gathering riches and winning wars faster than anyone in Westeros history has ever one. Her successes and invetions are so many and different that it can almost be labeled as miracles. In her current status in life, anything less than a royal wedding would be an insult to her,"

"Your brother, Joffrey can easily fulfill that role other than you, you know," points out Tywin.

"Maybe, but Joffrey is the Crown Prince of Westeros. He needs to marry to the Great Houses as is expected of him, especially once he becomes king. He needs to fully cement the loyalty of one of the kingdoms. Also let's face it Grandfather, you can see what I see. Joffrey is as unreliant as wet paper. Delianah Tully would never accept him, and same goes with Tommen. At best she would hate us for forcing her on it. What happens then to the trade deals and negotiations? Unlike me however, Delianah cares for me, she after all practically raised me. She is unorthodox and could give a rat's ass about the opinions of others. If she says yes to the betrothal, it would cement the partnership within our house and thus our future,"

"What about the repercussions of such a decision? The Lords and ladies of the realm would never accept this. They would be laughing and mocking your name at every moment," Tywin drawls as he leans back at his chair.

Myrcella only laughs at his response. "As you so aptly state Grandfather, Lion's don't care about the opinions of the sheep. Let them laugh about my choice of betrothal. I would be living under the care of one of the most powerful people in Westeros and the richest. Let us see who would have the last laugh at the end of the day,"

…

Winterfell Main Hall

The main hall of Winterfell is full of tables and chairs. Servants rush about preparing for the dinner feast for the king. The best of Winterfell larder is being broken out to be used for the feast. Delianah however stands at the end of the Hall watching the commotion alone (technically not alone since two Hidden Ones' are perched on the wooden beam above the halls' shadow). She is basically here to remind herself how different the world she is in right now. Rivendell has a lot of comfort that almost makes her forget her reality. It is times like this one that grounds her to the reality.

"You know I never liked you," a female voice at her side makes Delianah Tully turn towards the source. She is surprised to see Catelyn there standing beside her with a pinched expression.

"Lady Stark or should I say….sister," Delianah replies making the older woman hiss.

"You never call me that ever! You are an abomination, a mistake my father has made in his late years. He should have drowned you at birth," she curses under her breathe that only Delianah can hear.

"Yet here I stand,"

"Yet here you stand," she sourly replies. "Know this bastard. The others might be blind to what you are but I am not. I know what you really are. The gods have decreed that you are cursed since the moment you are born. One way or another, disaster will overtake you and you will not usurp my family name, mine, my father's or my brother's,"

"Really? Cursed am I? I might say that it's the other way around. In less than a decade i created a kingdom within a kingdom, became the first female knight in history, won a war against 2 great houses, became the first rider of a gryphon, became the richest person on Westeros and one of the most influential people in the world...," Delianah pauses before smiling evilly at the now turning cherry red woman.

"...What about you sister? What have YOU done that would justify you looking down on me? Breed five children like all those good ladies of the past? Good for you...And just like the other women, you will be forgotten in time, a hundred years from now overshadowed by your husbands and sons exploits, No one will remember you existed...But I on the other hand, will be remembered...forever. When the name Tully would be spoken. They would not be talking about our father, our brother and especially not you, no. They would be talking about me. The miracle child who turned the world upside down wherever she goes," with that finishing note, Delianah turns around ignoring the angry looking fish behind her.

She has better plans than to spend her time arguing with a flopping fish on the ground.

…

Author's Note:

Okay so new chapter's done. Hope you like it. So Robert is being sneaky.