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I own Lenora Baratheon ... nothing more.
My name is Chloe Jane and I get a disturbing amount of enjoyment from writing in Cersei's point of view.
Chapter Twenty: A Crown of Steel, Bronze, and Iron
Her brother was held captive by Robb Stark.
Her daughter was held captive by Robb Stark.
Neither of them had been returned to her. Neither of them were even remotely close to being returned to her. She had no idea if she would ever see her brother or her eldest daughter again. And what did her father do for her?
Send the Imp to King's Landing to play the part of Hand of the King.
Her fist clenched around the letter she was holding, Tyrion had arrived at the Small Council meeting, brandishing that paper as if it would save him from her. She had reminded him that Ned Stark had a piece of paper too, and it had done very little to protect him from her and her son.
Tyrion had snorted at her warning, he had spent too many years in her shadow to be afraid of her now.
Oh, but Gods, she was afraid of him.
"How I have yearned for the sound of your sweet voice," Tyrion had sighed to her once he had dismissed the other Lords of the Small Council to speak to his sister alone. He was mocking her.
She ignored his joke, "Has father lost his mind?" she snapped at him. "Or did you forge this letter?" Her eyes scanned the letter once more before she glared at her brother, "Why would he inflict you on me? I wanted him to come himself. I am Joffrey's regent, and I sent him a royal command!"
Her anger did little to Tyrion. She watched him as he waddled across the room and poured himself a goblet of wine before taking a seat at the table. He did not ask her if he could have a drink, he did not ask her if he could take a seat, he did not offer the same to her. Her teeth clenched in anger, he was deliberately disrespecting her. "And he ignored you," he pointed out, biting back a smile. It was then that Cersei realized that he was enjoying this. "He has quite a large army, he can do that. Nor is he the first. Is he?"
Cersei's mind flashed to all those years when Jaime had ignored her orders. When she had asked, begged, ordered, threatened, bribed him to come see her. And he ignored her, the few times he came to her it was always on his terms, on his time, and he never touched her, not after Tommen was born. No, Tywin Lannister was not the first to ignore her. Nor did his inaction hurt her as much as Jaime's had.
She threatened to name the letter a forgery. She threatened to have him thrown in the dungeons. Her threats did nothing The little monster laughed at her and asked her why she would throw him in the dungeon when he had come all the way to King's Landing to help her.
"I do not require your help," she bit out angrily. "It was our father's presence that I commanded. It was his help I wanted. Him, not you."
"Yes," Tyrion had agreed with a nod. His voice was quiet. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, "but it's Jaime you really want."
Cersei bit back a gasp. She stared at her brother, her eyes narrowed and hard, she felt her cheeks heat up with the hint of a blush. He couldn't know, she was sure of it. Stannis, curse him to the Seven Hells, had sent ravens to all the Great Lords of Westeros, but Tyrion had been a prisoner, and then he had been marching with their father, and then he had been traveling to King's Landing. He could not have seen one of those letters. She tried to get her face under control, hoping that he had not been able to read the emotions that had played through her mind, "Jaime - " she started, her voice cracking a bit around her brother's name.
" - Is my brother no less than yours," Tyrion interrupted before she could finish her thought. "Give me your support and I shall have him freed and returned to us unharmed."
"And my daughter?" Cersei asked, her tone as hard as stone. "Will she be brought back to me as well? Unharmed?"
She watched as Tyrion clenched his jaw. She followed the way he swung his short arms behind him and in front of him. She saw him fiddle his fat little fingers. He had an answer about Lenora, one that he did not want to give her.
"What of my daughter?" Cersei asked again, through clenched teeth. "Will you get her back from Robb Stark as well?"
"That one is a bit harder," Tyrion told her, his voice softer than she would have expected. Almost apologetic. "I am told that she has been married to Robb Stark. Shortly after Jaime was taken captive."
Cersei's hands began to tremble and she found herself moving toward the table, seating herself next to her brother. "Married to him?" she asked.
Tyrion nodded, "And bedded, I am afraid." He was quiet for a moment, "It is unfortunate that when we get her back she will be a traitor's widow, but at least her honor and dignity will be intact. This really is the best scenario for her."
"Best scenario?" Cersei echoed. She laughed, a bitter humorless sound. "Married to a traitor? Bedded by a traitor? She is a Princess of the realm. And my daughter. She should be here in King's Landing. With me."
"Wedded and bedded by a traitor is better than being made his whore," Tyrion pointed out. The little monster was smart enough to stand from his seat and move away from his sister before he said that. By the time his words had sunken in he was out of reach of her claw-like fingers that would have reached out for his neck.
Her teeth clenched and she inhaled sharply through her nose, trying to calm herself down. Tyrion waited, silently watching her over the rim of his wine goblet. Just out of her reach. "How?" Cersei finally asked once she felt she was calm enough to continue the conversation. "How do you think we will get them back? The Stark boy and his mother are not like to forget that we beheaded Lord Eddard."
"True," Tyrion told her with a nod. "The boy was already less than gracious the last time I saw him. And at that point you had not even imprisoned his father. I would not put it past him to murder Jaime and Lenora the moment he thinks that we are closing in on him. Just to get his vengeance before his death."
"No," Cersei told him shaking her head. "He wouldn't."
"Maybe not Len," Tyrion changed his mind. "He seems to care for her, truly. But he has no love for our brother." He thought about it for a moment, taking a long sip of his wine. "No," he told her, shaking his head. "I do not believe that he would harm Len."
"But you do not know," Cersei argued. She heaved a large sigh, trying to calm down again. "How?" she repeated her question.
"You love your children," Tyrion told her, as he moved back to the table, sitting down in the seat at the head, diagonal to where she sat. "That is your one redeeming quality, that and your cheekbones. The Starks love their children as well. And we have two of them."
"One," Cersei bit out. As much as she hated Tyrion, he had one redeeming quality as well. He loved their brother. And he loved Lenora. He may not have loved Cersei, but she believed that he truly would do everything he could to rescue her daughter and their brother. And it would not do to have him speaking on behalf of the King without the pertinent facts.
Tyrion rolled his eyes at her, and when he spoke it was with barely controlled anger, "One?" he asked, glaring at her.
Cersei couldn't meet his eye and for the first time since Tyrion had entered the small council chamber she was happy that her father was not there. If Tyrion was disappointed in her she could only imagine how her father would react. "Arya, the little monster. She disappeared. I've given it out that we have both of them, but it's a lie. I sent Meryn Trant to take her the day that Robert died, but she disappeared and no one has seen her since."
"Disappeared?" Tyrion sneered at her. "What? In a puff of smoke?" He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw before he forced a sarcastic smile onto his face. "We had three Starks to trade," he told her, holding up three of his fingers. "Three Starks for one Lannister and one Baratheon. You chopped one's head off," he lowered one of his fingers. "And allowed another to escape." Another finger went down. He was holding up just his index finger now, "Sansa Stark for the Kingslayer and the only trueborn child of you and Robert Baratheon - those aren't good odds."
Cersei's head snapped up at his words. He had hinted at her and Jaime. He had teased. He had flirted with the idea. But now the little beast had come out and said it, he knew that only Lenora was Robert's.
"Father must be so disappointed in you," Tyrion continued, his voice quiet and sly.
Cersei took a moment to compose herself, Tyrion was probably her only hope to get her brother and her daughter back, she could not have him killed, no matter how much she might have wanted to. "How much does he know?" she asked him through clenched teeth.
"He knows that your son's short reign has been a long parade of follies and disasters. That suggest that someone is giving Joffrey some very bad counsel."
Cersei looked at her brother carefully, she could not work out if he was insulting her or the other members of the small council. She bristled slightly, finally deciding that it was probably both. "Joff has had no lack of good counsel. He's always been strong-willed. Now that he's King, he believes he should do as he pleases, not as he's bid."
It was not a defense, she knew, but it was all she had.
Tyrion nodded, accepting her excuse for what it was. "Crowns do queer things to the heads beneath them," he murmured. "Perhaps the Seven Kingdoms would have been better off if Ned Stark had taken the throne. At least he would not have been swayed so easily." He paused for a moment, "This business with Eddard Stark ... Joffrey's work?"
Cersei grimaced, but nodded. "He was instructed to pardon Stark, to allow him to take the Black. The man would have been out of our way forever and we might have made peace with that son of his, but Joff took it upon himself to give the mob a better show. What was I to do? He called for Lord Eddard's head in front of half the city. And Janos Slynt and Ser Ilyn went ahead without asking my permission. The High septon claims we profaned Baelor's Sept with blood, after lying to him about our intent."
Tyrion rolled his eyes, "The boy needs to be controlled," he told his sister. He stood from his chair and started to walk toward the door of the chamber. "Perhaps you should have worked harder at that than trying to fuck our brother," he told her, opening the door and allowing it to slam shut behind him.
Cersei bit back a scream as she threw his empty goblet at the closed door. No matter how much Lenora and Jaime loved him she would kill Tyrion. As soon as he got her brother and daughter returned to her she would kill him.
She had been young when she had decided that, but she remembered the promise she had made herself to this day.
"Will the King and I have children?" she had asked.
"Oh, aye," the ugly witch had answered her. "Six-and-ten for him, three for you, and one for the two. One shall have a crown of steel, bronze, and iron. The other three: gold shall be their crowns. And gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you."
If she had been one of the small folk that prophecy would have been frightening enough. But Cersei was the daughter of a high lord of Westeros, she understood High Valyrian.
Valonqar meant little brother.
She was standing on the balcony that was connected to her and Robb's quarters when he found her. The Blackfish, they called him, Lord Hoster Tully's brother, though in his younger years Catelyn's father had disowned his brother for disobeying him. Ser Brynden Tully had been a knight in the Vale ever since - that is until his niece, Catelyn Stark had asked him to march south with her and her son.
She was leaning against the railing, staring up the comet as it slowly made its way across the clear blue sky above her. Its tail was a bright red. She was so engrossed in the comet that at first she did not even notice the Blackfish's approach. He called out to her three times before she finally turned around.
"Oh," she greeted once she finally turned her gaze from the comet to the older knight standing in front of her. "Ser Brynden, I am so sorry, what can I do for you?"
"Please, Your Grace, call me Blackfish," the knight requested. "Gods know everyone else does."
Lenora flinched slightly at his greeting. She still wasn't used to it. She had once been Lady Lenora Baratheon, a Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. And then, after she had married Robb she was Lenora Stark, the new Lady of Winterfell. She barely had time to get used to that when they had named Robb King in the North. Now she, as his wife, was Your Grace, Lenora Stark, Queen in the North.
The Blackfish had sharp eyes, he caught her flinch, "Not used to it yet, Your Grace?" he asked her, referring to the name, though he gestured to the crown that sat upon her head.
It was much simpler than the crown that sat on her brother's head in King's Landing. And she could only imagine what her uncle Renly's crown looked like. It was a smaller, more feminine version of Robb's. The old crown that had once belonged to the Kings of Winter had been lost three hundred years ago, but Lord Tully's smith had done his work very well. Catelyn had told her that it looked exactly like the stories she had heard.
She reached up and plucked the crown off the top of her head. She held it for a moment, just staring at it. It was an open circlet of hammered bronze incised with the runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes wrought in the shape of longswords. There was no gold, no silver, no gemstones - those were for the Southern Kings. Bronze and iron were the metals that belonged to the North and to winter, strong and hard to fight the cold, long nights.
"I had never thought to wear a crown on my head," she told the knight with a soft, rueful smile as she lifted the crown back on top of her head. For something as small and simple as it was it felt heavy. "Joffrey's head was always the one meant for a crown."
The knight stepped closer to her, his hands folded behind his back. "From what I hear your brother's head was not to wear a crown either. Seems to me, you were the one meant to rule."
Lenora shrugged her shoulders, "You sound like my uncles Jaime and Tyrion," she told him, she looked away when she said this, afraid that she might see a look on the knight's face that told her it was an insult to be compared to her uncles. "I was probably the best prepared to rule, but I was never meant to."
She wanted to change the subject, though she was unsure of how to do that without seeming rude. The Blackfish understood her though. He nodded up at the sky, his gaze landing on the comet above their heads, "What do you make of it?" he asked her.
Lenora shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know," she told him. "I know what they would be saying in King's Landing. It's my brother's nameday, they will be saying that the comet is for him. They will say that it signifies that he will win some great victory over," she paused not sure if the army that surrounded Riverrun was a your or our army. "Over all that," she settled for, nodding down toward the courtyard below them. "At Casterly Rock they will say that the tail is Lannister red. That it isn't Joff who will win the victory, but my grandfather. This morning I heard a knight say that it was Tully red, that it prophesied a victory for Robb - but he's a Stark, not a Tully, no matter how much he looks like one."
She paused, looking back up at the comet for a moment. "My septa when I was a child used to tell stories about the Targaryen dragons. She said that the last time that a comet flew over Westeros was when dragons soared in the sky. Stars don't fall for men, they fall for dragons. But the dragons are all dead and I'm not sure if there is enough magic left in this world to bring them back."
The Blackfish nodded, thoughtfully, "So you do not think that it is for your brother. Or your Grandfather. It's not for Robb or dragons. So what is it for, Your Grace?" he asked.
Lenora stared up at it for almost a minute before she finally answered, "It's the color of blood," she told him finally. "It means nothing more than that. Men will die, too many of them. No one will write them songs, no one will remember their names, no one will weep for them. They will die and the world will go on without them."
"Not all of them," the Blackfish told her, his voice was soft. Lenora wondered if he meant to be comforting. "Your husband plans on seeing the two of you through this war."
Lenora smiled at him, "Do you know what they say in Braavos?" she asked him. "Valar morghulis - High Valyrian for all men must die."
The Blackfish smiled at her and nodded, "But you are not a man, Lenora."
"And I do not fear death," Lenora told him. "At least not mine."
"King Robb means to end this war with as little bloodshed as possible," the knight told her. "He is meeting your cousin, Cleos Frey, right now to explain his peace terms to him. He'll send him to King's Landing tomorrow morning. Would you like to go down to listen? I could escort you."
Lenora shook her head, "I know what his terms are," she told his uncle. "He discussed them with me last night: he wants his sisters returned safely to Winterfell and Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey broken, with that he will release my cousins Willem Lannister and Tion Frey; he wants Lord Eddard's bones and those of his guard and household returned to the North; he wants Ice returned to his hand here in Riverrun; he wants my grandfather to cease all fighting immediately and to release all of the knights and bannermen he has held captive since the battle at the Green Fork, once this is done he will release all Lannister men - save Jaime who will remain his hostage to ensure my grandfather's good behavior; and finally he demands that my mother and my brother renounce all claims to dominion over the North, House Stark will reign from the Gift to the Neck as well as the lands watered by the River Trident and its vassal streams between the Golden Tooth to the west and the Mountains of the Moon to the east."
She paused for a moment, trying to think if she had missed any of his terms, she was sure that she hadn't. She nodded, signaling that she was done.
"And what do you think of these terms, Your Grace?" the Blackfish asked her.
A proper Lady, a proper wife would have said that it was not her place to comment on her Lord Husband's decisions, at least not in public. But Lenora was no proper Lady. Or a proper wife. "She will never accept those terms," she told him, shaking her head. "Nowhere in there does it say anything about my uncle Jaime ever being returned to her. Nowhere does it say anything about me being given even the choice to return to her. She would send every man, woman, and child in King's Landing to their death before she agreed to give up so much for so very little."
The Blackfish stared at her for a moment before he nodded, "King Robert and his disloyal Queen did not raise a fool," he told her. "I will give them that."
Lenora shook her head, "My uncles Jaime and Tyrion did not raise a fool," she corrected, her tone bitter as she spoke Jaime's name. She had not laid eyes on him since the day she had learned about him and her mother. She imagined that he was being held prisoner somewhere in the castle of Riverrun, though she had no idea where and was unsure if she would go see him even if she did. "My mother and father had very little to do with it, if I'm being honest."
She was polishing her sword in the room Robb used for his solar when he returned that afternoon from his session with her cousin Cleos. She could hear them before they entered the room: Edmure Tully, defending the fact that he had allowed the River Lords to return to defend their own separate lands; Robb chuckling about how Grey Wind had terrified the Frey cousin; and Catelyn, encouraging caution. She could not hear the direwolf, but she was sure that he was near. He very rarely left Robb's side, and when he did it was usually because he was with her.
"More bloodshed will not bring your father back to us, or Lord Rickard's sons," Catelyn cautioned her son. "An offer had to be made - though a wiser man might have offered sweeter terms."
"Any sweeter and I would have gagged," Robb argued as he opened the door, smiling when he caught sight of Lenora.
"Cersei Lannister will never consent to trade your sisters for a pair of cousins," Catelyn continued, she had not caught sight of Lenora yet, that much she was sure of, otherwise the older woman would not have said what she said next. "It's her brother she'll want, and your wife. As you well know."
Robb chuckled and moved closer to Lenora, he held his hand out to her. Lenora arched one of her eyebrows at him, but she put her sword down and gave him her hand, allowing him to pull her out of her seat. "I will not release Nora, not even if she asked," Robb told his mother, pausing for a moment to press a kiss against her cheek. "And I can't release the Kingslayer, even if I wanted to. My Lords would never abide it."
"Your Lords made you their King," Catelyn argued.
"And they can unmake him just as easily," Lenora told her as she moved away from Robb so that she could put her sword away. She had gained some trust with him, he no longer believed that she would kill him in his sleep and he had allowed her to have her sword once more, though she was not allowed to take it from their chambers. "You are right, Lady Catelyn, my mother will not agree to those terms. But Robb could not have offered her any more than what he did." She turned to look between Edmure, Robb, and Catelyn, "How did Lord Karstark take it?"
"Badly," Robb told her. "I have to speak to him."
"You better," Lenora told him. "If you lose him you lose half your host and you look weak because you lost one of your Northmen." Edmure stiffened at her statement, but Lenora paid him no mind. Robb's uncle was unsure of what to make of her, he was polite enough, but she knew that he did not like the amount of freedom the Robb granted her. He would rather her be a prisoner like her uncle than his Queen.
There were days where Lenora felt much the same way, if she were being truthful about it.
"If your crown and your wife are the price we must pay to have Arya and Sansa returned safe, we should pay it willingly," Catelyn told her son, making no apology to Lenora for being so willing to get rid of her. Lenora couldn't blame her, much as it hurt her feelings, a Lannister's daughter was little to compare to her own daughters, a cheap imitation. "Half your Lords would like to murder Lannister in his cell. The other half would be only too happy to rape your Queen."
"I'd like to see them try," Lenora defended herself as she moved toward her trunk to put her sword away. Robb swatted at her playfully. Catelyn ignored both of them.
"If he should die, or if something should happen to Lenora, while they are in your care, men will say - "
"That he deserved it," Robb cut in, clearly ignoring his mother's warning that something might happen to Lenora.
"And your sisters?" Catelyn asked, her voice sharp. "Will they deserve their deaths as well? I promise you, if any harm comes to her brother or her daughter, Cersei will pay us back, blood for blood - "
"Lannister won't die," Robb told her. "No one is allowed to see him save me and Lenora, not that she seems to have much interest in seeing him. He is fed. He has water to drink. He is given clean straw, I imagine. But I will not release him, even for Sansa and Arya." He shook his head. "I might have released him for Father, but ..."
"But girls are not important enough?" Catelyn asked him, her voice bitter and cruel.
Robb's blue eyes shot to Lenora and she felt a blush rise on her cheeks at his answer. "Some are." Before Catelyn could bristle at the insinuation that Lenora was more important to her son than his sisters Robb changed the subject. "I will do everything I can for the girls. If Cersei is smart she will accept my terms, if not I will make her rue the day she refused me." That was the end of the conversation, his word was final. "Mother, are you certain that you will not head home to Winterfell?" he asked her. "You would be much further from the fighting and Bran and Rickon need you. Theon could escort you as far as Seagard, you could find a ship there and be back home before the moon turns."
"Why is Theon going to Seagard?" Lenora asked, biting her lip when Edmure turned to glare at her, clearly upset that she would even question her husband.
Robb did not seem to mind though, "Theon is going to speak to his father on my behalf," Robb told her. "I mean to make us allies. I will give him a crown and name him King of the Iron Islands if he gives me ships and men to sail them during this war."
Catelyn shook her head, "I will say again, I would sooner you sent someone else to Pyke, and kept Theon close to you."
Lenora nodded. "I would sooner not go to Pyke at all," she added to Catelyn's argument.
"Why not?" Robb asked, looking between the two women.
"You'll have Balon Greyjoy's help sooner if you keep his son hostage," Catelyn told him.
"He was your father's ward for a reason," Lenora told him. "Balon Greyjoy fought against your father, and mine. He rebelled." Robb raised his eyebrows at her as if to ask her why he should care about that. She sighed, "You don't listen half as well as you did before you were named King," she told him before she explained further. "The words of House Greyjoy are We do not Sow. They're pirates, they reap. If they want something, they don't wait for it to be given to them, they take it. They pay what they call the Iron Price for things. If you think that Balon Greyjoy will allow you to make him King of the Iron Islands you are wrong. He has behaved because you hold his only living son, give Theon back to him and he just might take more than you are willing to give him."
Robb looked between the two women and smiled, swooping down to press a kiss against first Catelyn's cheek and then Lenora's lips. "Men fight wars and women worry," he told them with a shake of his head. "I am sending Theon. He is not his father's man, but mine. Now, stop your worrying." He called to Grey Wind, "I am going to go for a ride," he told them. "I will hear no more worrying from the two of you. Lenora, would you like to accompany me?"
Lenora smiled at him and shook her head, "Your man Theon has promised to teach me to shoot a bow in the Godswood, that's where I will be."
He couldn't understand what was so special about his sister. She was a girl, that's all she was. Just a damn girl. He could understand why his mother wanted Jaime back. His uncle could win battles and lead men. But what good was Lenora? If she returned to King's Landing she would just be another woman at court, one who probably felt like she could tell him what to do. And then, as her king, he'd have to find a new husband for her. She was more trouble than she was worth, really.
And if those vile rumors he had heard were true she would be competition. He had heard some of the stewards at the Red Keep saying that his mother and his uncle Jaime had ... well it was a lie. But if people believed it then they might look to Lenora. The bitch couldn't rule the Seven Kingdoms, she was a girl, but someone would want to marry her. Someone would get her pregnant and then try for find people to support the child. Any sons that Lenora had would be threats to Joffrey.
It did not matter that it was a disgusting lie. What mattered is whether people believed it. Robert Baratheon was Joffrey's father, he was sure of that. But the last thing he needed was Lenora walking around the castle looking like him while Joffrey looked so much like his mother.
She could stay with the wolves in the North, he decided. She could marry Robb Stark if he insisted. She could have all the little wolf pups she wanted as long as they stayed the hell away from King's Landing.
He had heard one of the men talking about them, his father's bastards. Joffrey had never been blind. Or stupid. His father had fucked other women, women that were not his mother. And they had given him baseborn children. He did not judge his father for that, most Lords in the Seven Kingdoms had at least one bastard. Even the honorable Ned Stark had one. But what the man had said next had given him pause.
"King Robert fathered sixteen bastards," the man said. "Their mothers were copper and honey, chestnut and butter, but they all had one thing in common. All the babes were dark as ravens. Dark like the Princess Lenora. But King Joffrey, the Prince Tommen, and the Princess Myrcella all golden like their lion mother. One has to question that."
Joffrey had ordered the man's tongue cut out. His uncle Tyrion had told him that he was a fool. He had told him that a man does not cut out someone's tongue because they told a lie; a man cuts out someone's tongue because they are afraid of what they're saying.
Joffrey rolled his eyes, "Well I have to do something, Uncle," he sneered. "Someone has to do something. I am the King and these disgusting lies could be used to undermine my rule. You haven't done anything to stop them."
"We have," Tyrion told him, his voice slow and quiet as if he were talking to a child. It made Joffrey angrier to hear that tone. "Lord Baelish will have some of his," he paused for a moment, trying to think of the right word for them, "his women spread a rumor of our own. We mean to have people believe that your aunt, the Lady Selyse cuckolded your uncle Stannis and that his daughter, your cousin Shireen, belongs to that ridiculous fool of theirs."
Joffrey chuckled, his hand coming up to hide his mouth. "The fool?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "That's a good one, Uncle, truly. The fool." He chuckled again, though there was no humor to it. "No one will believe that!" he thundered, turning on the Imp. "That does not help me with my throne." He shook his head and stormed away from his uncle.
He called for the Hound and ordered his guard to bring him Janos Slynt, the Captain of the City Watch. If his uncle and his mother and his grandfather were not going to do anything to stop the rumors then he would.
Joffrey ordered Slynt to send his City Watch through Kings Landing, he wanted them to round up every one of Robert's bastards that they could get their hands on and murder them. The biggest piece of evidence that these disgusting rumors were the truth were the bastard children that looked more like Robert than Joffrey did. If they were dead, they couldn't be compared to Joffrey.
But he wasn't done yet, he needed someone else to help him, someone who had no scruples. Once he was finished with Janos Slynt he sent a steward to find Petyr Baelish. He had a job for Littlefinger as well.
One that didn't involve his whores.
Seriously, I had too much fun writing in Cersei's point of view. The only thing that lessened my enjoyment is how much I like Tyrion, so it was a bit hard to write about him in Cersei's voice.
I hope that I did her justice.
I also hope that you guys liked this chapter!
If you did, let me know in that wonderful box down there!
If you didn't, then why are you here?
BIG thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. You guys are my heros:
DannyBlack70: I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well. As to your question that was a complete brain fart on my part. In my head, the justification was that with me making Robb older than he is in the books, the GoT timeline doesn't work, so I gave him some years at Riverrun, though I could have also just made the rebellion last longer. And I meant Robert's Rebellion, but I was thinking Iron Throne which then led my mind to Iron Islands and my fingers got away from my brain and I didn't edit very well. So I guess an accidental AU was born. Not an intentional one.
Vulcran: I'm glad. I like the history of it too! History was always my favorite subject in school.
HPuni101: I'm not even mad when you guys can tell that I enjoyed writing something. My old creative writing professor would tell me that too much of my voice is coming through in the story if you guys can tell, but I don't care. As long as you guys are enjoying reading it then it's fine by me. As for the ending ... it's a bit AU. (I won't tell you which bit though!)
RHatch89: Me too. It got even better in this chapter, but just wait for the next one!
That's all I've got for now.
Go fill that review box with some love!
Until next time,