A/N: there's been a long break between postings. Which has been a combination of being busy and not being satisfied with how the story was coming together. Things are heating up now, and also getting trickier for me to bring together. Be patient though, because I'm just making sure it all fits and becomes an awesome (and hopefully epic!) story!

Chapter 20: The Queen of Shadows

Sunlight and bird song filtered into the Royal suite of the Red Keep, the rays of sun swinging through the room to illuminate the Royal bed. They lay entwined around each other's bodies, bed sheets and limbs in every direction. Cersei stirred a little and Robert grunted as he opened his eyes a crack and saw Cersei in his arms. She smiled lovingly and kissed him on the lips, running her hand along his body until she felt what she wanted with her hand. Her long blonde hair trailed along his torso sending shivers along his body as he stiffened within her hand. Within moments she was on top of him, moaning and wailing in pleasure as she rode the King. In one movement Robert grasped Cerseis hips and flung her onto her knees, and drove himself deep inside her. She buried her face in the sheets, wild blonde hair splayed around her head. Her moans and screams not hidden by the blankets at all, Robert looked down and the sight of her curved back and bent legs alongside her body and it stirred something in him. Not long after it was all over, he roared as he exploded inside her and they lay panting and laughing together on their bed. The sounds echoed all around the room, and through the doors to where Jamie was standing guard. He was seething, but powerless to do anything. Every sound of pleasure from her lips, every scream was meant for him, not Robert. He came close to abandoning his post when it became unbearable but he was too good a soldier, too loyal, too reliable, and the voice of his Father was too loud in his head. Despite all this he very nearly burst into that room to drag her away from that man so he could have her all to himself again. All these emotions he buried under a mask of serene calm but his knuckles were white from gripping the hilt of his sword.

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Cersei sauntered from the Royal Suite several hours later leaving Robert spent and dozing in her wake. Several more rounds had rendered him bed ridden with exertion, leaving Cersei smug. She knew the whole palace could hear their loud love making, but being Queen, she didn't care. As she walked she felt the slickness of what Robert left inside her rubbing against her legs and smiled internally. This all felt….too easy.

Their relationship had changed dramatically since the disastrous trip to Winterfell. That had been almost a year ago now, and in that time Cersei and Robert had found common ground in their anger toward Ned Stark. Anger at what happened in the North, but for very different reasons. The journey home had been bitter and Robert had drunk consistently, Cersei had happened upon him alone and planned to murder him while he was alone. She had approached him from behind with a blade gripped tight in her hand, his large drunken form in front of her. It was so close, ultimate power. At the last moment he had turned and simply said to her, "Sit Cersei, we're long overdue for a talk".

Cersei released the tight grip on the blade and slowly sat, keeping it close in case another time came for an attack. But Robert spoke and she listened, because once he started he kept going. She could tell it was difficult for him, but she listened anyway and in that moment her hand had gone slack on the blade. Her murderous intentions dying away.

Since then, slowly and surely the pair had grown a sort of affection between them. And Roberts whoring had stopped at the same time.

Now Cersei had the King, wholly and completely to herself in ways she had never had him before. She reflected on this when a shadow crossed her path causing her to falter her step. Breathing in relief she smiled, "Jamie, you scared me"

Jamie glared at her, "Do you have to scream and moan, like you're actually enjoying yourself?"

Cersei went to walk ahead but Jamie stepped in front of her, grazing his hand against hers trying to pull her close to him.

"You used to make those noises for me," he murmured in her ear.

Cersei pulled her hand away, "Not anymore Jamie, I'm the Queen, he is my husband. I will do my duty, just as father wanted" she spoke without emotion, just her usual cool calculated way of speaking.

Jamie scoffed, "Now I know you're lying, just as father wanted? Who are you kidding here? You've never done anything for anyone but yourself!"

Cersei managed to push past Jamie, but he grasped her hand and dragged her back to him. Swiftly Cersei slipped a blade from under her sleeve and held it against Jamie's throat. She whispered dangerously, "For the love I have for you as my brother I won't kill you today. But if you ever speak to me in this way again I won't be so kind"

Instead of shock Jamie's eyes welled up with tears, she saw real love in his eyes and it wrenched her heart a little. Her face remained hardened, "I am your Queen, you are sworn to my husband the King. Remember that, or you'll be sent to the wall before you can say another word"

Pressing the blade forward for emphasis she felt her twin strain against the blade cutting his skin, a slight bead of blood dropped onto her blade. He raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm having you stationed elsewhere, you're clearly unfit to be guarding the royal couple" hissed Cersei as she abruptly moved the blade from Jamie's neck.

"Don't you ever cross my path again," she warned as she wiped the blade on her blood red velvet dress. Turning, she left Jamie breathing heavily leaning against a wall, clasping at the thin slice mark on his neck.

Cersei regained composure and walked away, without looking back.

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Robert paces the room in the Tower of the Hand as Mace Tyrell drones on incessantly about the dire financial situation they were in. Robert had tuned out, his mind was wandering back to the morning in bed with Cersei.

Every now and then words would enter his ears, like taxes, food supplies, trading…..but Robert ignored everything else in between. This part of being King bored him immensely, and he was becoming impatient.

"Your Highness, I must impress upon you the urgency with which I speak," Mace had leaned forward as he spoke, pushing up his huge stomach against the bulk of the desk as he spoke. Robert looked back to him, and for a moment wondered why the fuck he agreed to putting a Tyrell in the seat in the first place. Robert sighed, "What do you suggest Mace?" he spoke irritably, pressing his huge right hand against his forehead as if trying to block out the words Mace had just said.

Replacing the spectacles that make him look utterly ridiculous, Mace puffed up his chest as he gave an account of what he would do to fix the situation. And how he would work with the Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish to improve the Royal coffers again.

Robert simply waved his hand at the appropriate breaks in the conversation to indicate he was listening. But he still was not, looking around the room his eyes landed on a large book out of the bookcase.

He pointed to it, "What's this doing here?"

Mace looked up, removing his spectacles and straining to see with his eyes squinting, "Oh yes Sire, a book read by the previous hand. I was meant to put it away, but it's rather…..cumbersome"

Robert chuckled, "Are you telling me a man of your stature can't lift the fucking book?" His face was incredulous, and Mace clearly missed the playful tone in his voice.

Mace flushed in anger and embarrassment, "My Lord! Of course I can move the book I've been spending day and night at this desk trying to save the affairs of your Kingdom"

Robert just laughed at how flustered Mace became, unbothered by his out of turn remarks and approached the book. He opened the cover and read the title aloud, "Lineages of the Great Houses by Grand Maester Malleon. Fuck me Jon, couldn't find somethin else for light reading?" muttered Robert as he flicked through the pages. A small piece of paper fluttered from within which caught Roberts eye as it flittered side to side to come rest on the floor between his boots. Groaning with the effort of picking it up, he unfolded the paper and read the words in his mentors hand to himself.

'The seed is strong. T.M

Street of Steel'

Robert read it twice, and shrugged thinking nothing of it. And slipped the note back in the book and went to slam it shut but just before he closed the book his eyes saw the family it was open on. The Lannisters.

For amusement, he read the listings while internally wondering if Jon Arryn had gone mad to want to read this boring tome. He read all the way down to Cersei, Jamie and Tyrion, blonde of hair, green of eyes. Nonchalantly he browsed his family page and flicking through to find them, swelling with pride to be a Baratheon, even if that meant he shared blood with those Targaryen bastards he was still of the highest blood. He read through with more interest, Robert black of hair blue of eyes. Next, his children. His heart stopped, and he read it again. And again

Blonde of hair, green of eyes.

Pulling up a chair he sat and read through his family like again, not one blonde. Frantically, he flipped back to the Lannisters, blonde of hair, green of eyes. Anger washed over him followed by disbelief, he opened the paper again written in Jon Arryn's hand.

The seed is strong.

A part of him faltered, looking at the note in his hand, Mace's droning was muffled in the background. All Robert could hear was the rushing of blood in his ears and feel his laboured breathing move slightly faster. After a moment of blank thought, he crumpled the note in his hand and stood to throw it in the bin across from him.

"I don't care how you fix things Mace, just fucking do something!" growled Robert as he burst from the room slamming the doors behind him. Mace sat stunned at the desk in the Tower of the Hand in his wake, his enormous gut swollen all around him and papers littering his desk.

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Robert stormed around the palace the rest of the afternoon, angry at something but unsure of what that something was. He refused Cersei's offer for dining together with the children, choosing instead to stand looking out to sea along the battlements of the Red Keep. KingsGuard flanked him, their white cloaks billowing softly in the night breeze, but Robert felt intensely alone. Hearing footsteps behind him he turned to see Ser Barristan approaching and grimaced before turning back to the sea. The moon light ripppled across the surface of the sea, twinkling seductively calling him to cross its watery depths. Robert sighed as Ser Barristan came to stand beside him.

"You seem troubled my King," spoke Ser Barristan gently, "you've been standing here for hours now"

Again Robert sighed, "Do you ever feel like you live in a nightmare? That you're going to wake up and it's all been a dream?"

Ser Barristan looked with uncertainty to his King, unsure if he should voice his true feelings.

"I understand my King" replied Ser Barristan carefully before a silence grew between them.

"Do you miss him? Rhaegar?" asked Robert unexpectedly after a time.

Ser Barristan raised his eyebrows at the question, not answering but Robert spoke before his lack of response became uncomfortable.

"I have people I miss. And there's nothing I can do to get them back. I've made too many mistakes Ser Barristan. Now I'm alone"

The wind picked up around the two men swirling Ser Barristan's white cloak and ruffling Roberts beard.

"I would say my King if those you miss are still breathing then there is a chance for forgiveness. Someone just has to take the first step"

Robert didn't respond, he just remained looking out to sea.

The two men stood together silently as the waves crashed softly against the rocks hundreds of metres below.

"Ser Barristan who was assigned to my former hand before his departure?"

Again Ser Barristan looked uncomfortable before answering, "I was assigned to him my King, along with one other"

Robert turned to face him, "Did Jon ever go to the street of steel?" For a moment Ser Barristan was taken aback at the sudden use of Jon Arryn's name.

"Yes" answered Ser Barristan simply, "to purchase weapons from a skilled armorer.

"Who?" pressed Robert, stepping forward slightly, his voice barely audible above the growing wind.

"I'm unsure my King, I was always stationed at the entrances to guard the Hand and Master of Whispers…."

"Varys too?" blurted out Robert, "Seven hells how many people know of this?"

"Know of what my King? I apologise but I'm a little confused" his voice sounded pleading, and a familiar feeling began to bubble in Ser Barristan gut. After all Rhaegar seemed discontent before he disappeared, and Ser Barristan felt powerless to help him then. He began to feel that same powerlessness in this moment.

Robert stared at him for several moments before looking away.

"Tomorrow, after dawn I will have you escort me to this stall…."

"My King it's not safe for you down there!" exclaimed Barristan which caused Robert to grin wickedly.

"I won't be going there as a King Ser Barristan!"

Robert laughed a hearty laugh at the thought of it, before his seriousness returned.

"Day break escort me out of the castle, to this stall. I don't care what I look like to get there, just get me there"

Knowing he had no other choice Ser Barristan simply nodded, "Of course my King, at your service"

Robert simply nodded and patted the old knight on his shoulder before leaving him to stare with concern off the battlements.

Ser Barristan was suddenly reminded of the last time he rode with Rhaegar to SummerHall and how so much had changed after that one ride. Feeling the same mix of anticipation, anxiety and excitement in his gut did nothing to abate the fear of foreboding creeping through his mind.

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Daybreak brought with it a gloomy day, clouds hung heavy across the city and the only joyous beings seemed to be the birds. Ser Barristan and one of the castle executioners exited the castle grounds on their rides and soberly made their way through the city. Residents of the city stepped aside for them, an esteemed KingsGuard and the executioner. Women surreptitiously made gestures to the Seven and children cowered behind the legs of their parents. The stench of the city was heavy and lurid made worse by the clouds hanging low and heavy making the day humid. In several places the men had trouble stopping themselves from gagging from the smells. After a short ride, the characteristic smell of burning metal and the clang of metalwork signalled they had arrived. Both men dismounted and tied their rides before Ser Barristan led the way through the maze of stalls and shops all desperate for the coin pouch of a KingsGuard and the bragging rites of selling to one of the royal executioners. None ever saw the face of the executioner, which made him appear even more sinister. At the far edge of the precinct stood a shop front, loud noises rang out from inside and Ser Barristan stood by his companion and said in a low voice.

"That's the store right there…."

Before he had a chance to mutter my King, Robert pushed past and into the store.

Ser Barristan knew he couldn't stand guard for the executioner, so he followed into the store.

Robert removed the hood upon entering and breathed a sigh of relief that no customers were inside.

A young man was lost in his work in front of the coals, his torso without covering and beaded with sweat. His muscular arms seemed relentless in his strength to work the metal without tiring. Robert stared patiently while looking around at the weaponry on display, suddenly the sound of metal working stopped and he turned to lay eyes on the young man.

Roberts heart stopped in his chest, all other sounds dropped away except for the sound of his heart beating fast in his chest. The young man looked confused, Robert was shocked. It was like looking into a mirror, he simply stared even when the boy repeatedly asked him if he could be of assistance. An older man entered from the store room and exclaimed, "What an honour, my King! What brings you to the street of steel?"

Tearing his eyes away from the boys face Robert smiled pleasantly and dropped a bag of coin on the counter between them.

"I heard of your work and want to commission two war hammers, one for myself and one for my son"

The boy appeared euphoric, "I'd be honoured my King! I've already made several war hammers"

He indicated the wall where a vast array of war hammers hung with a malicious glint to them. Robert pointed.

"You forged these? Seems you have a talent boy"

The boys chest puffed up with pride at the compliment from the King.

"How long will two take to finish?"

The old man answered for the boy, "We will have them ready for Your Highness as fast as possible. Two days?"

The boy looked unsure but nodded anyway.

Robert stepped forward and looked closer at the boy, his face was almost an identical picture of his own as a lad except for the nose. He had the nose of a Lannister, of Cersei.

"My lad," he said quietly, "I want only the very best, I don't want it rushed. My son and heir will carry this one day, it must be fit for a prince and perfect in every way. Is two days too short for such a project?"

The boy glanced nervously to the side at his master, Robert leaned forward and captured his glance again with a poignant stare deep into the boys eyes. That one look into the boys eyes changed something in Robert, he had many realisations in that one moment. The boy cleared his throat, "If you could give me three days my King, I want to do the best I can for you"

Roberts eyes were still fixed on the boy, he nodded once and smiled. He went to turn to leave but stopped and turned halfway back.

"What is your name boy?"

The boy nervously looked to his feet before returning the Kings gaze, "My name is Gendry, Your Highness"

"Gendry, very well. See you in three days. Tell no one about my visit"

Gendry and his master bowed as the King exited their store. When he'd left the boys master grasped the coins and looked over the pouch with glee.

"Boy we are going to eat well for the rest of the year!" and he hugged Gendry fervently, "Now get to work on those hammers. Everything else can wait!"

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Robert stumbled from the store, forgetting his hood was down and his face was exposed. Ser Barristan followed unaware the King was lost in thought. Robert almost walked right past the horses, but Ser Barristan grabbed him and turned him around pulling the hood over his face again.

"My King, what's wrong? You don't seem yourself"

Robert breathed fast as he put a hand to hold himself up against his horse. Ser Barristans words were muffled as he struggled to grasp what had happened.

After a look of serious concern Robert looked up to Ser Barristan and spoke.

"You kept secrets for Rhaegar am I right? You were his closest confidant. He told you many things"

Taken aback Ser Barristan looked shocked and took a tentative step back.

"We spent a lot of time together-" he started with uncertainty.

"Yes, I know" said Robert impatiently, "he confided in you did he not? I need a man I can trust. Half the castle is in the pocket of my wife and I need a man who is reliable"

Ser Barristan stood tall and proud, "At your service as always"

"Good, because what I'm about to tell you verges on insanity but just hear me out"

"Tell me on our way back to the castle my King, there are many ears in the market" said Ser Barristan in a low voice.

Robert turned and mounted his horse with assistance from Ser Barristan and waited patiently for the guard to mount his afterward.

Trotting side by side Robert turned to Ser Barristan.

"What I'm about to tell you is going to cause a war. I need you to be prepared"

Ser Barristan steeled himself, "My body is weary but I'm always ready to go to war my King"

Robert nodded and began to talk.

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The next three days passed agonisingly slow for Robert, he found it harder to look Cersei in the face. So many questions and accusations burned in his mind, but he couldn't ask them, not yet. In the street of steel, Gendry worked tirelessly in front of the fire working the metal, clanging and banging until the war hammer began to take shape. Robert found deft reasons to avoid much alone time with his wife, and passed the time making other arrangements.

In the tower of the Hand, Mace Tyrell flicked his gaze over the scroll in his hands. His brows were creased in open concern, when he finished reading he gingerly put the scroll down as if it might explode. He raised his gaze to look at Robert, and fidgeted his hands.

"My King, this scroll," he picked it up, "will incite a war. You cannot mean to go through with this"

"Mace, it's the right thing to do. The only thing to do, he's my son and he's my heir"

Again Mace put the scroll down and looked uncomfortable, "You're legitimising a bastard over your own son-"

"He's not a bastard!" raged Robert, "and Joffrey is not my son!"

Mace made hushing noises and gestures with his hands, "Please Robert be quiet, you already know this castle has ears! Please! Contain yourself"

Robert heaved his breaths and collapsed in the nearest chair, it creaked under his weight but held him. His heavy, laboured breathing turned to heaving sobs. Mace watched with a mixture of pity and worry painted across his face, after a moment Roberts sobs turned to a bitter laugh.

"Acknowledge Gendry as my heir, that is my order Mace. Send three copies of this document, one to the citadel, one to Jon Arryn and one to Ned Stark"

"But there are four copies of this document Robert…."

"Give that last one to me"

Reluctantly Mace handed a scroll to Robert, he heaved up onto his feet and grasped the scroll. Mace did not release his end, he gazed up at Robert with a warning in his eye.

"My King," he said gently and quietly hoping his words would get through to him, "I fear for your safety with all of this. Why are you doing this? Why now?"

Robert hesitated before answering, "After a life of making mistakes and fucking everything up, this is the one thing I can do to make it right"

"But there will be war! Thousands will die over who sits on that throne! Westeros has been peaceful your entire reign, this will send us into chaos! How do you know in the end Cersei won't just kill the boy and take the throne for herself?"

Robert laughed, "The most ferocious wars in our history have been fought so a woman can't sit on that throne. None will stand for it, besides she does what her father says and he wouldn't stand for her to sit on the Throne. She works best in the shadows, with her little spies and venomous ways"

"Robert," pleaded Mace again, "she will not let this stand. I don't think you understand exactly what you're doing, this will cause chaos and for what? To payback whatever wrongs were done to this lad? Send him to Storms End, give him lands and a title, but please...not this"

Robert paused for a moment, his hand still grasped to one end of the scroll and Mace to the other. The fire in the hearth crackled, and the wind outside picked up but after a moment Robert shook his head.

"I can't stand by and let my true born son, my only true born child not be acknowledged. My ancestors wouldn't stand for it, and neither will I. He's a Baratheon, and he'll be named as one and succeed me. The men who receive these scrolls will ensure it, and Cersei will do as she's told when Tywin knows the truth of it. I know it"

Mace conceded and released his end of the scroll and Robert stepped away from the desk, Mace watched troubled as Robert stormed from the room.

"I hope you're not wrong," murmured Mace once he was alone, "it'll be my head that rolls first if you are"

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Ser Barristan and Robert exited the castle on horseback, this time Robert was dressed in a plain black riding cloak with the hood pulled over his face. No longer wearing the executioner cloak, the pair slipped through the city without being noticed. Ser Barristan also dressed simply, a hood over his head too. Like shadows the pair pushed through the crowds on the street of steel. It didn't take long for the pair to enter the store of Tobho Mott and his apprentice Gendry. The store was littered with customers waiting to pick up their orders, the pair sidled their way to the corner of the shop, blending in with their dark attire. It seemed like hours passed as people came and went, but eventually Robert and Barristan were the last remaining customers in the store. When the store door closed from the last departing customer, Robert and Barristan stepped forward, removing their hoods.

Tobho Mott smiled, and crossed the room looking out of the door into the street beyond before locking the door from the inside.

On his way back to the counter he signalled subtly it was safe for Gendry, the boy didn't respond just scurried away. It was several long moments before he returned, and Roberts heart was pounding. Mace's words echoed in his mind, this will start war.

Gendry brought the war hammers and Roberts mouth fell open involuntarily, the handles were sleek and black, the blades cruelly sharp and decorated with a jumping stag on each side with antlers springing from the top. It was very Baratheon, over the top but Baratheon all the same.

"This is incredible work young man, I'll be honoured to carry it" murmured Robert as he was handed one by Gendry. His chest puffed with pride at the Kings words and he barely contained a smile. Robert stepped away from the counter and swung the war hammer, a smile crossed his face it reminded him of old times, of war and blood and ultimately victory. He ran his hands along the length of the handle and inspected the finest details of the blades and sigils of his House.

After several minutes he turned back and his eyes were wet with tears.

"It's perfect in every way"

"Its an honour to have made it for you," stammered Gendry surprised at the emotion from the King before adding, "Your Highness"

He hastily added the formalities after forgetting himself, so happy he was with the Kings reaction.

"Now we need to talk payment" said Robert as he gingerly rested the war hammer on the counter.

Tobho Mott looked confused, "My King payment has already been made"

Robert was still looking over the exquisite war hammer in front of him, and did not look up when Tobho spoke.

"No amount of money can ever cover this" he spoke as he ran his hand down the handle one more time.

"I apologise my King, what do you mean? There is no more coin required"

Robert didn't reply, he just produced the scroll from his cloak and handed it to Gendry.

"I had you make two War Hammers son, one for me to carry and the other for my heir to carry."

Gendry took the scroll, and opened it. His eyes scanned the words on the paper, he looked up confused before looking embarrassed.

"I'm sorry Your Highness, but I can't read"

Tobho Mott held out his hand and Gendry passed him the scroll, he began reading and paused looking up to the King. Swallowing thickly he read again and when finished dropped the scroll as if it was burning.

"What is it? What does it say?" urged Gendry, alarmed at how ashen Tobho Mott had become.

"It says," started Robert, "you are my son and heir"

Robert dropped a black cloak and a large bag of coin on the table between them.

"You are my true born son, and that scroll acknowledges you as my heir. Giving you the Baratheon name and title of King upon my death"

Gendry paled, "This has to be a mistake, my Mother died when I was-"

"She wasn't your real mother lad, your real mother tricked me and had you taken away. Your real mother is Cersei Lannister" he spoke with passion and anger at how he'd been wronged by Cersei.

Gendry stepped back, pale and confused. The store was suddenly very hot and he felt sick, abruptly he ran from the room.

Tobho stepped forward and looked directly at Robert, "I hope this wasn't all of your plan Your Highness. This is dangerous what you've done, you're putting him in harms way with this"

"You knew all along who he is," spoke Robert without emotion, "why else did my Hand and the Master of Whispers come to meet him. You knew all along" he pointed a finger accusingly at Tobho Mott.

"Aye I knew," admitted Tobho shakily, "but I also knew I could keep him safe. This," he picked up the scroll, "puts him straight in danger. His mother will never stand for Joffrey to be set aside from being your heir"

Robert breathed out in frustration, this wasn't going to plan.

"Where is the boy?" he asked with as much gentleness as Robert could muster.

Tobho turned and pointed directly up, "The stairs lead to our quarters above us"

Without hesitating, Robert pushed past and made his way up the narrow, dark stairs in search of Gendry.

He found the boy in his tiny sleeping quarters staring into the fire burning with low flames.

Robert sidled into the room, "Lad I'm sorry for how this has all come about…."

Gendry turned and looked up with anger, "Did you think I wanted this? To be King? Because I don't! I don't want it!"

Robert clenched his jaw together at the unexpected outburst.

"Truth be told I don't want it either," he replied with surprising candour.

Gendry turned with a look of disbelief, "Then why did you start that war if you didn't want to be King"

Robert looked to his feet his mind going to Ned, "At the beginning it wasn't about the throne at all. That war started for different reasons and I got pushed into it by people who had other motives. I never wanted to be King"

Gendry again turned back at the last of Roberts words, "Then why are you giving it to me then? What if I say no?"

"You have every right to say no if you want. But this is more than just you, you are the true born son of a King and a Baratheon. You can't live without knowing your history and who you are. I want you back in Storms End, with your family. You have to know where you've come from to know who you're going to be"

Gendry scoffed and turned away again, "I was perfectly happy here"

"You sure about that? Because sooner or later something else might come along in life and change what you've got here. And it could be the end for you. I'm giving you a chance to escape this fucking city. Who knows you might even decide you do want to be King"

Gendry scoffed, "That jobs already taken"

"True," admitted Robert, "but for how long?"

Gendry raised his eyebrow before he asked with hesitation, "Are you dying?"

Robert chuckled and sat next to him, "No I'm not dying son, but when your mother knows what I've done…..She will kill me, I know it."

That was sobering for Gendry, "Why though? If I'm her son wouldn't she want-"

He looked around the room and looked angrily at the floor, "She wouldn't have let me end up here if she'd wanted me"

Robert leaned forward and lifted Gendrys chin to look into his eyes, "I won't even begin to explain to you what happened. I don't even know myself. You are my son, you are my heir and I want you to go downstairs take that war hammer you made and ride for Storms End without delay as fast as possible. You'll be safe there"

"Why can't I stay here? She doesn't even know what I look like! I could blend in!" protested Gendry, Robert sighed.

"I knew you were mine the moment I laid eyes on you lad. You look like my younger twin, except you have her nose, otherwise it's like looking in a fucking mirror to my youth. You'll never be safe, not once she starts looking. And she's got enough gold behind her to look the rest of your life, do the smart thing lad"

Gendry dropped his head, shoulders dropped in defeat. Surprisingly, he felt an arm cross over his back as Robert pulled him closer.

"I'll tell you one thing though lad. Every day of Joffrey's life a part of me questioned, but I dismissed it and dismissed it. As soon as I saw you I knew you were mine, and I knew in that same moment Joffrey is not my son. I couldn't leave my true born son in a shop near fucking Flea Bottom"

Gendry laughed a little, shaking off the discomfort of being half embraced by royalty and the fear of leaving his home. After a moment of quiet he nodded, "I'll go and find out who I am. I can't guarantee I'll want to be King though"

Robert grunted and struggled to stand, "As long as you're well away from this fucking city im happy"

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Some time later, Gendry emerged from the darkened hallway carrying just a small bag with only his most treasured items. Solemnly Robert handed him the scroll.

"Place this in Renly's hands and his hands only. That's my youngest brother, your Uncle. He'll ensure you're looked after"

Robert looked to Tobho, "You'll have to go too. She will kill you for information if you stay"

Tobho began protesting pointing to unfinished works, "They will find another to do their work," said Robert abruptly dropping a bag of coin in between them.

"Take this and start up a new shop somewhere, go to Storms End with the boy make sure he arrives safely. Then go wherever you please"

"I'd rather he stay with me," blurted out Gendry, "if he wishes too that is"

"I will go where you command me," said Tobho which made Gendry blanch. Robert laughed.

"You'll get used to being a Baratheon soon lad, now go"

Gendry reached behind the counter and picked up his war hammer and looked to Robert who picked up his.

He looked at Gendry with pride, "With that hammer none will contest your legitimacy. And if they do swing it a few times and let them see"

Gendry smiled a little, but it was hard because he was so nervous. He'd never known danger, but now everything seemed scary.

Tobho scurried around packing hastily, muttering to himself and dropping things. Robert flinched, "Seven Hells man you'll wake the whole neighbourhood this is meant to be quiet!"

Tobho ignored him and moved slower dropping less things. After a time and some pointed looks from Ser Barristan the pair were ready to go, the door from the back of the shop was opened and they locked it as they left. Despite Roberts frustrated explanations they wouldn't be returning and locking it was unnecessary. Ser Barristan and Robert ushered them through the darkest parts of the city, and Ser Barristan stole some horses for them to escape with. They helped them both to mount and once they were ready Robert stepped forward and grasped Gendrys boot.

"Do you know the words of House Baratheon lad?"

Gendry looked worried and shook his head.

"Ours is the fury" said Robert with passion, "Think on that during your ride to Storms End."

He looked to Tobho, "Do you know the way to Storms End?"

Surprisingly he nodded, "I visited there once. I can find it again"

"Good, ride hard and ride fast. Do not stop because I can only give you a day head start. You must reach Storms End by nightfall tomorrow, I can't keep avoiding my wife"

Robert looked to Gendry and saw his face change at mention of his mother, but there was no time for more words. Tobho urged his horse into a trot and Gendry had to follow, he glanced back one last time and saw what he thought were tears in Roberts eyes. The image of his father standing on a darkened street watching him leave left a strange feeling in his gut, and it immediately seared into his memory. Soon Tobho led the horses to the edge of the city and after some smooth talking with the guards at the River Gate they were galloping across the bridge to the opposite side of the river. On their way to Storms End.

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Cersei was perplexed, her husband had been avoiding her of late and none of her spies could tell her why. She didn't like this, not one bit. She was always used to be ahead of what everyone else knew and would predict their reactions. But this time she was in the dark, and things weren't made better when she was summoned to the Tower of the Hand and escorted by a group of KingsGuard.

The grand doors were opened for her and Robert stood behind the desk where Mace Tyrell sat. They didn't smile or show any emotion on their faces at all, the doors were shut behind her and several guards stationed themselves along the doorway. Watching with uncertainty, Cersei maintained composure but her mind whirred. Sweeping forward she smiled sweetly for her husband.

"Darling, what has troubled you lately? You've not been coming to bed…"

"My Queen, please take a seat. There are some matters we must discuss privately" said Mace Tyrell tightly.

Glancing over her shoulder, Cersei smirked, "Is it necessary then to have guards here Lord Hand? It's not private then is it?"

Colour rose in Mace's face but he did not speak, he just shuffled some papers and presented Cersei with an official document.

She leaned forward and grasped it in her delicate hand, sitting back in her chair to read it. She read it twice before looking up, all hint of sweetness gone from her face.

"What is this?" she spoke coldly.

"There has been a change in succession-" began Mace, Cersei flashed her eyes angrily to Robert.

"You're disinheriting our son?" hissed Cersei.

Robert matched her glance with anger of his own, "I'm disinheriting your bastard, that's what I'm doing. You'll be lucky they all keep their heads and you too. If it wasn't for your Father-"

"My Father? What's he got to do with this? What does he know?" unwittingly she exposed her fear, Tywin discovering her secrets.

The colour drained from her face, she knew what was happening. Her world was unravelling, and her secrets were no longer perfectly hidden any longer.

Robert leaned forward on the desk noting her fear but ignoring it for the time being, "Why did you do that to me Cersei? How could you take my son away from me?"

Stunned, her eyes filled with tears, "What?"

"You heard me!" raged Robert, "our son, our only child together you had him taken away!"

Angrily Cersei wiped her eyes, "What are you saying Robert?"

"I'm saying," seethed Robert, pointing his finger accusingly, "you had our son sent away and sought to seat your own son on the Throne!"

"Our son died," replied Cersei flatly.

"Stop lying to me!" raged Robert.

Cersei shook her head, "No Robert, I held him. His little body was stiff and cold, the boy died"

Robert faltered before continuing, "You're doing it again, stop lying"

"I'm not lying!" yelled Cersei, "You think I want to relive holding our boy dead in my arms? They told me he was dead! Where is he now? He lives?" her voice sounded hopeful and nostalgic.

Robert paused and was stunned, "You didn't know?"

Cersei shook her head wildly, causing tears to splash onto her hands folded tightly in her lap.

"Why would they lie to us?" murmured Robert, "who lied to us?!"

He raged and slammed his fists on the table before looking to his Hand.

"Have Varys brought here Mace, he is the Master of Whispers. He will know-"

Overwhelmed, Cersei shuddered into tears, her head in her hands. Robert and Mace looked at one another, before Mace spoke.

"My Queen," he started gently, "your son is alive and it's only right he be properly acknowledged. He is your first born after all"

Cersei wiped her eyes and looked to Robert, "Is it true? You've seen him?"

Robert nodded, "Can't be mistaken Cersei, he's our son"

Again tears splashed from her eyes as she relived holding that lifeless body and the screams that echoed through her mind from that day.

Robert marched around the desk and knelt in front of Cersei holding his hands around her slender wrists.

"I'm sorry Cersei, I thought you knew. I thought you planned-"

His eyes met hers, but all he saw was coldness. Before he knew what happened the dagger had plunged into his neck and his blood spilled all over his hands.

"I had him taken away, I should've had him killed" she spoke with malice and coldness.

All Robert could do was look surprised as he bled all over his own hands before falling to his side on the floor in front of the desk he had been standing behind moments before.

Mace Tyrell stood in shock and was pointing and yelling but Cersei couldn't hear him, all she could hear was rushing of blood through her ears and the pounding of her heart. He ran to Roberts side, checking his wound and ordering the soldiers to help him. None of them moved.

Suddenly all noise rushed back to Cersei's ears.

"Murderer! The King is dead! Seize her! Men…..seize…..her!!" yelled Mace until he was red in the face.

Calmly Cersei stood and reached her bloodstained hand across the desk to pick up the succession paperwork. She slowly ripped the document and let it fall to the ground, to soak in Roberts blood. Glancing behind her she simply said, "Guards, seize him"

She pointed to Mace Tyrell and to his shock they all converged on him, spears pointing to his face.

He rocked back on his feet and looked over at Cersei, "My Queen, please" he pleaded, "I was only following his orders, please"

Without emotion Cersei turned and spoke as she exited the room, "Throw him in the dungeon with the rest of the filth"

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Bells rang out across the city, workers, soldiers, beggars and children stopped in the streets and looked to the Red Keep. It towered above the city, a constant reminder of the presence of royalty. The city paused as they realised what these bells meant, the King was dead. King Robert Baratheon was dead.

The nobles present in the city milled in the throne room to see who would take the throne. They all tittered nervously to each other, what had happened to the King? Was he in poor health? Did anyone know if he was in danger? Their whispers echoed around the room so all that could be heard was a constant buzzing of conversation. Suddenly, the doors opened dramatically and all conversation died. Cersei stepped forward from the darkness of the hallway beyond, Joffrey following her. The room hushed as she slowly walked through the crowd flanked by KingsGuard. All she could hear was the sound of her beating heart thumping loudly in her mind, and the click of her heels on the hard stone beneath her feet.

Boom boom, pounded her heart. Ignoring the stares of the men in the room, her eyes were fixed on one thing only. Every step brought her closer to the throne, gracefully, she climbed the stairs of the dais. And as she got closer eyed the throne hungrily, once at the top she spun around and looked out across her subjects. KingsGuard flooded the room, and stood guard at the entrance and along the walls. She locked eyes with Joffrey and despite a look of defiance, he bowed to her. He wasn't happy, the throne should be his and his tightly clenched jaw betrayed his open displeasure. He would be dealt with later.

Without hesitation, Cersei sat down on the throne, shocked murmurs ran through the room as people realised she was covered in blood across her face and hand. She looked across at the men in the room, undeterred by their open outrage and consternation.

"King Robert is dead he was attacked by an assassin today, an assassin organised by his own Hand. Mace of House Tyrell has been reprimanded and will stand trial, before his death the assassin named him. I was lucky to survive, as our King was dying he bid me to take the throne to continue ruling in his place to ensure stability and peace," she declared, "Now I am your Queen by order of the King, my Husband, Robert Baratheon. Bend the knee, and live" her final words were calculated and cold, communicating to those present the danger they were in without saying much more.

At her words the Queensguard stepped forward menacing the nobles present with their spears, slowly and clearly against their will, they kneeled.

"Long live Queen Cersei! Long live the Queen!" chanted the Queensguard, followed by an unwilling chorus of voices in their wake.

The words echoed around the Throne room, men kneeled all around her and the power she felt swelled inside her. It was finally in her grasp, the Throne and the Kingdom. And no one would take it from her.

Cersei settled back into the throne and looked around her with satisfaction, but as she settled back she felt a sharp slice and glanced down. The Throne had slashed her arm, blood smeared across the armrest but she ignores the throbbing pain and smiled regardless as Jamie dutifully placed an elegant Lannister crown on her head.

"Long live Queen Cersei!" the unwilling chanting echoed around the Throne room.

In the far North, beyond the Wall, the screams of the living had long died out. The villagers lay where they fell, silent screams contorting their faces and blood from their wounds freezing stains into the snow. Heavy footsteps crunched through the snow amongst the piles of bodies surveying the scene with satisfaction. Children, young men, old men, pretty women, they all lay at his feet. All ready, to serve. His fierce, unforgiving face didn't show much emotion but his eyes bright blue, and gleaming looked around with pleasure. A cold wind picked up and blew across the scene of carnage and death, he lifted his head to the breeze and inhaled deeply. What the wind told him pleased him deeply, finally, the last ruler with Targaryen blood was dead. It was time to make Westeros his, finally.

He raised his arms out from his body, raising them above his shoulders. The once lifeless opened their eyes, the same shining blue as his own and slowly despite their brutal injuries stood. More soldiers of the dead, headed for Westeros to take the throne