The Great War

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CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN

The Great War

*CONTENT WARNING*

King's Landing, Westeros

One Fortnight Later

Alana's POV

I allowed my grandfather the courtesy of a bath and a healthy meal of venison and potatoes, wine and water that had been unlimited to him. If he was going to ride alongside us into King's Landing he'd need to look healthy and not like a prisoner. Even though he had been one for months now.

Robb wasn't happy with me at all for my choice of allowing a bit of freedom to my grandfather. But after everything, he had been the most honest with me. But I needed the confirmation from my own mother... To know if I could actually trust my grandfather or not.

Then and only then would he be shown mercy.

Tricking the King's Guard and the Royal Army would be hard but so long as my grandfather complied, it would be easy as pie. He'd done it once before, storming the Capital to take down a king, although the king he took down previously was Aerys Targaryen and not his own grandson, Joffrey Baratheon. Or Lannister, at that.

It still sickened me what my uncle had done to my poor mother. And how he wasn't afraid to admit it to me. How slimy he had spoke when the words fell from his tongue. If I had been more like Robb then I would have sliced his throat right there. But I didn't. And part of me regretted that.

Suffering would be best for my uncle. Letting him rot up at the wall and if Jon were to return there, I knew Jon would make his life a living hell. Even if Jon wasn't pleased with me right now. Or ever. Jon as Jon and that was just something we all had to live with.

I sat in the tent with my grandfather and just stared at him while he devoured his plate of food. He offered me a piece of black bread and I declined. He was the one who needed his strength in order to trick the Gold Cloaks, not me. I was strong enough already.

"Can I ask you something?" I said softly to my grandfather, who I hardly knew if I'm being honest. I remembered him from when I was a child but I moved to Winterfell so suddenly that I lost all that time with him. And hadn't seen him until I captured him.

He looked up from his plate, wiping away the juices from the venison that dripped down his chin with his sleeve and nodded. Taking a swig of wine to wash it down as he waited for me to ask what had been burning inside of me.

"Why did my mother care so much about what I thought of my father, rather than how I'd think of her? Didn't she know that by protecting Robert I'd believe her to be the villain?" I asked with my hand resting on my cheek, my elbows digging into the table.

He paused for a moment, during that moment I felt a sharp, sting-like pain in my abdomen, but I ignored it. Now was not the time for pain or illness. Anxiety had been chewing up my intestines for days now.

Knowing that I'd be not only storming my childhood home but that I'd also have to face my mother and my brother. My brother who believes the crown to be his and my mother who placed it on his fucking head.

It made me vomit at the thought and sometimes just tightened my guts. Wrenching them and twisting them into knots that no one could take apart. And sitting here now made my guts tie up again, feeling like I'd been getting stabbed with the sharpest of knives.

"Robert was the king and your father, although an absolute monster... Your mother wanted to shield you from the truth. That's why she betrothed you to Robb Stark. She knew that Ned would never allow Robert to lay a finger on you once the deal was done and you belonged to the Starks. Robert paid Jaime to execute you but he couldn't do it. Didn't have the guts. Cersei told Tyrion what she did to be sure that you'd make it to Winterfell safe and soundly, she knew Tyrion would be sure of that. The rest of us decided to take blame and responsibility for everything else in order to help Cersei protect Robert's image to you."

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