The Bastard Queen

The Setup

 The event of my birth was not one of note. Most had gone off to war, my uncles included. Riverrun was almost empty, save for the adolescent Edmure and the newlywed and pregnant Catelyn Stark.

So when my mother nearly collapsed with labor pains, the whole castle knew.

It was a trying delivery, I'm told. Sumara of the Summer Isles did not make it through.

How ironic that her brother was dying on the fields not soon after.

I am the only thing left of either of them.

Catelyn took care of me while waiting for her father, uncle, and husband to return. And she prayed that they would.

Most tell me that it was a true shock when my mother came to visit Catelyn. She was as much a warrior as her brother; she had hoped to fight with them. And she was pregnant. Only her brother had known at the time.

She had refused to tell anyone who the father was, leading me to be born a bastard, fatherless and motherless.

All of the rebelling keeps and those who had stayed silent all received the same message: The Trident was won. 

The castle had collectively sighed in relief, sons and fathers would be returning home.

No one knew it was a lie until those men did return home.

The Trident was won, that was true, but not by the usurper. It was a close call, people tell stories of how Robert and Rhaegar were locked in battle with each other. Some like to imagine what Westeros would be like if the Dragon Prince hadn't ducked, if Robert's war hammer crushed in his chest.

But it didn't matter. Robert had died at the Trident. The victorious Rhaegar had allowed the rebels a choice: cease fighting and return home, swearing fealty to him over his father or stand and die a traitor.

Most were home within the month.

Rhaegar started the slow march back to King's Landing with the surviving leaders of the rebellion. It was when he reached the gates that he had found out what was done.

You see, the Battle of the Trident happened a month after someone had written that it was won.

The North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the Stormlands were all waiting for heroes to return home and begin celebrations. And under the belief that Robert Baratheon was now King, Tywin Lannister had marched his army to the Crownlands.

It was only half way through the sacking of the city that the Lord of Casterly Rock was informed of the fallacy. But, the damage was done. His son had already slain Mad King Aerys, and his mad dog had already found his way to the Princess of Dorne.

Eddard Stark, in mourning over his friend, was horrified at the state of the city. Commoners dead in the streets, bouts of wildfire still burning, and the rumors of dead children. He did not stay long enough to see such a horror. He rode to find his sister.

Catelyn was shocked, to say the least, when her family had returned. Her uncle, Brynden came back first. He had only come back from the Trident, without his friend, to find that Sumara had died in child-bed. He vowed to take care of the girl in honor of the family she had lost.

Hoster Tully was next. He had recently swore fealty to the new King and was debating the offered spot on the small council. He was delighted to meet his grandson, Robb Stark, and was curious over the unbalanced vignette of Brynden the 'Blackfish' with a babe in arm.

Ned Stark came home depressed, tired, and battle weary. Most notably, without Lyanna. Instead her cradled an infant, not much younger then Robb.

Catelyn had been worried for the better part of a year, and Ned repaid her with a bastard. She felt for him, she really did; he had lost his father, brother, best friend, and sister in the span of a year. But that was no excuse for breaking a holy vow.

Tywin Lannister must have been some charmer. He was forgiven, his son as well; they had acted on false pretenses after all. The blame for the Prince and Princess fell on 'rouges' told to capture not kill. Gregor was imprisoned by Tywin himself, earning Master of Coin.

The Tyrells left the Stormlands after lifting their blockade on Storm's End. Randal Tarley was awarded Master of War.

The Iron Islands stayed out of the war, they didn't care for either side. But seeing political weakness, Balon Greyjoy staged his own rebellion. His failed too. He lost all his sons to it; his eldest where hung and his youngest sent off to Winterfell as a ward.

Stannis Baratheon was not a man of emotion. He did not mourn his brother. He sat as Lord of Storm's End and cared little how his people cried vengeance. It was war, death was to be expected.

Jon Arryn for instilling morality in the war and being the first to bow, was awarded Hand of the King. It was done in the hopes that the rebelling kingdoms would see that they were being heard.

But Rhaegar had wrongfully assumed that his reasons were understood by Dorne.

Doran was a well calculated man, he would not rush to war. But his Uncle was dead. And after spending the first ten years of his life watching his siblings die, in the womb or cradle, he had vowed to keep those surviving safe. He had hoped to live to see Elia and Oberyn gray and old. The man responsible for taking his only sister from him would pay. And Oberyn never forgot to remind him.

....

It wasn't easy being a bastard.

And it surely never helped that I knew no one of blood relation to me. All I had was the stories people told me.

Brynden liked to tell me how he met my Uncle, D'wande, soldiering in the Stepstones. He was a 'part-time pirate'; he only raided those who were known for cruelty. And his ship's captain was his sister, Sumara. She was one of the best bowmen Brynden had ever seen.

As many good stories as I heard about my mother, there were always wild guesses for my father. It became a sort of drinking game in the Riverlands: the man with the worst guess or explanation bought rounds for the whole bar, the best drank for free.

Mainly everyone thought the Blackfish himself was my father. He was close with the both of them and why else would he raise me? If you could call it that.

There was a reason he never married. He has no real idea how to parent. When I was being particularly troublesome, we would go on a visit to his brother, Hoster or his niece, Catelyn.

Because of this I know the ins and outs of both Riverrun and Winterfell.

I spent most of my early years at The Bloody Gate in the Vale were Brynden served as guard. The last time I was there was shortly after my eighth name day and I had asked him if he was my father. He never answered, so that was the last time I asked.

Around twelve he sent me to be fostered at Seagard, Jason Mallister was a good man and accepted. Though his boy was more Edmure's age then mine, we got on well and would often play pranks on each other.

I was most certainly not a lady, it drove Catelyn insane every time we came for a visit. She would desperately try to get me to stay in on Sansa and Arya's sewing lessons. It never worked.

I loved our visits north either way. I would tell Arya that I'd knight her one day. I would listen to Bran recount all of his weird dreams. I sparred with Robb until he'd admit defeat, read he'd get tired.

Jon was always kind of my favorite though. We were both bastards missing a parent; he didn't know who his mother was and I my father. Granted we both had wildly different out looks on the subject. He craved to be Jon Stark and I liked not having the rules apply to me.

A proper lady was to sew and tend to the children, but because I was a bastard I could lose an arrow and wield a sword.

In truth, I was what most men wanted their sons to be.

AN:

Hey, I'm taking a small break from Bend Before You Break and I ended up starting a new book. Cuz I love having no free time.

Yea I know secret Targaryen books have been done a lot, but I couldn't help myself man.