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Chapter One

"Robert is dead." Jon Arryn says, his voice cracking at the last word. He threw the letter in the fire, his head hung low and shoulders slumped in weariness and grief. Robert was dear to him, after all. He and Robert were like sons to him, and though he did not say it, he loved them as his own. Their childhoods were spent in the Eyrie as Jon's ward, to train and learn the ways of the world; to learn how to fight. Robert was heir, and Ned was merely a second son. But it mattered not to Jon, anyways—he treated both of them the same.

Ned finds himself bowing his head as well, pain piercing his heart as the news sunk in. He loved Robert as a brother, and he knew Robert loved him the same. He always used to say that Ned was his real brother, not Stannis and Renly. He cared not for them, and knew only that Stannis was a stiff prick and Renly a little baby prancing around the castle in Storm's End. He did not love them, and if given a choice, he would have Ned as a brother instead than the lot of them. It did not matter to him either that Ned was merely the second son.

"What—what did he die of?" He finds himself asking. He had defeated Rhaegar Targaryen in the Battle of the Trident, and already he had heard of how Robert smashed Rhaegar's ruby-encrusted breastplate with his warhammer, sending the jewels scattered in the water. The village people had already started searching for the so-called jewels, and it was reported that they had already found three out of the many. Each would be able to fetch a high price, of course, and it had the power to bring a poor man to riches if the money gained was spent wisely.

"A festered wound," Jon said wearily. "Rhaegar scathed him, and he refused to have the wound treated because of his stubbornness. By the time they cleaned and bandaged it, it was already too late. The sickness had already started."

"Damn Robert," cursed Ned. "I always told him his stubbornness would have him killed, and now it has."

They stay in silence for a while, a moment given to grieve for their lost comrade, son, brother, and friend. Ned had his hands clutched to his sides, while Jon was gripping a chair for support. What will happen now? Ned thought.

"Ned," rapsed Jon, "Do you know what this means?"

"I'm afraid I do not know, my lord." Ned replied.

"The throne," Jon said. "Now that Robert is gone, no one will take it and rule. We most certainly cannot let anyone—most especially, Tywin Lannister—to take it for himself."

"You, Ned," Jon continued. "You must take it. Take the throne, and rule the Seven Kingdoms. There is no man more perfect for the job than you."

"My lord, I—" said Ned, "—can't."

"I do not know how to rule. I am a second son, and therefore never meant to rule any castle or keep. And who will rule Winterfell in my stead? Benjen is merely a child. He is to join the Night's Watch, and my loyalty is to mine own than anyone else."

"I will help you, Ned," answered Jon. "I will be your Hand. And your brother—he hasn't took any vows yet, has he? Make him see fit, then. For the good of the realm—tell him. You need to take it, Ned. Robert would agree."

"I can't." Ned replied. "I—"

"I'll give you time, then." Jon decided, cutting Ned off. "Please think about it. But be quick, for we have to act as fast as we can. I'll talk to you at dawn. Make sure you've decided by then."

"You may take your leave." Jon then said, nodding at Ned. Ned bows, nods, and goes straight for the door. Arryn men were guarding outside, and he ignores them as he went on about the Keep and to the lonely godswood where he most often prayed. He liked it, there: due to the Southron men worshipping the Seven Gods, almost no one went to the godswood and used it only merely as decoration. It also meant that no one would disturb him and he would be able to think freely without distraction. Everyone, even Robert—when he was still alive—knew better than to disturb Ned while in prayer.

He couldn't be King. He had Winterfell to worry about; his impending wedding to betrothed Catelyn Tully—surely, new arrangements would be made once he was King. Jon Arryn would make sure of it, and even if he did not want to anger Hoster Tully and his brood, he would have to follow Jon in the end. Other noble houses that had lent a hand in their side of the war would surely offer brides for him to take. Catelyn Tully could marry Benjen if she did not mind. If he were to accept Jon's proposal, Benjen would take over Winterfell and would inherit it at the right age. There was still a lot of time to teach him how to rule, and Maester Luwin had always been most helpful in matters of the sort.

Robert would have him take it. He'd tell him to be sensible, to think of the good of many—but if Robert was alive, he would have taken the throne to rule the realm himself. Even if he did not want to. All Robert cared about was drinking, whoring, hunting, warring and Lyanna Stark. And Lyanna'd been kidnapped and taken hostage by Rhaegar Targaryen. He did not know where, but it was said Rhaegar took three of his most trusted men with him. Robert was filled with rage. Lyanna was meant to be his wife; his betrothed—but the Prince took her away from him. She was his one true love, he'd always say, but even if it were so Ned did not think marriage would stop Robert's whoring ways. He did not like to think ill of Robert, but it was true. His friend was too far gone to be changed.

He suddenly bumped into something—someone—, stopping his tracks and snapping him out of his thoughts. Out of instinct, his hand went out to grip an arm. He looked to see bright emerald eyes staring back at his cold, grey ones. Smooth blonde locks cascaded atop the hand holding on to his assailant's arm. Lavender oozed in the air, filling his nose with the elegant scent. Her golden lion pendant swung on her neck.

"L-Lord Stark," Cersei Lannister managed to sputter out in greeting.

Gathering and composing himself, he quickly set Cersei upright and made sure she wouldn't lose her balance before releasing his grip on her.

"My apologies, Lady Lannister," He said, bowing his head low in embarrassment. "I'm afraid I wasn't looking. I did not mean to bump into you, my lady."

Cersei's blazing green eyes took a once over on his appearance, before smiling and nodding, saying, "It is quite alright, Lord Stark. I should not have been in the way. I was simply admiring the Narrow Sea in all its glory. It is quite beautiful in the night."

"My apologies again, Lady Lannister." says he, "Would you like me to escort you back to the Keep? Being alone at nightfall proves dangerous for a lady."

"No thank you, Lord Stark," Cersei replied. "I'd rather much stay in here for a while. Peaceful, isn't it? Gives you much time to think."

"Indeed," agreed Ned. "I—May I take your leave, my lady?"

"If you must," said Cersei, turning around once more to admire the view.

Ned bowed his head, slinking off to proceed to the godswood. For some reason, he could not shake off his mind Cersei Lannister's green eyes. Her smile. And her luscious, long blonde locks. Her father had helped in the Sack of King's Landing, only joining at the last minute when they had remained neutral for most part of the war. But without them, they would not have been able to take King's Landing at all. Even if it were so, he did not agree with all of Tywin Lannister's ways. It was said that he himself had ordered Ser Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch to have Elia Martell and her children killed. He and Jon were then presented by three bodies in the throne room, covered in Lannister red cloaks to hide the blood and the gore. Elia Martell, Rhaenys Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen. Tywin Lannister considered it as a token of fealty, but he did not see the same light. Killing innocents, especially children, in a such a gruesome manner was disgusting. The memory would haunt him forever. The babe Aegon's head was smashed; crushed, Rhaenys' body was filled with more than fifty stab wounds, while Elia it was said had been raped then killed by The Mountain.

He could not let a Lannister take the throne. If he were to accept Jon's proposal, he would rule, and would therefore be able to prevent Tywin Lannister from having any control over the way the Kingdoms are run. Jon would be his Hand, and would help him rule and take care of matters of the realm. But Tywin Lannister would not allow himself to be devoid a part in anything—he did help win the Rebellion, after all. His pride would not take it. But he could not be on the Small council. The only choice was to join both their houses in marriage. It was, no doubt, what Jon would propose in the end. Jon knew as well as he how Tywin Lannister's mind worked—he would not stop at nothing to get what he wanted for the glory of his family. And, most importantly, due to the damages the Rebellion had cost money would be needed for repair. And the Lannisters were famous for shitting gold.

He knew what he had to do.

Quickly, he turned around and maneuvered his way through the garden and into the labyrinth-like hallways of the Keep. It was eerily silent. No handmaidens or servants of any sort were to be found, even his men. They all must have proceeded to one of the many whorehouses of the city, owned by none other than Petyr Baelish. War can take toll on a man, after all. Robert was infamous for having as many whores as the population of King's Landing. But even without the war he had had much whores still.

"Let me in." He ordered the two guards posted in front of the doors to Jon's temporary chambers. They quickly set aside, allowing him to enter. To his surprise, Jon was not asleep. He was instead standing in front of the fire, wine in one hand. He did not turn around when Ned entered, and merely said, "I knew you would come to your senses soon enough."

"Cersei Lannister," He breathed.

"What do you mean, Ned?" asked Jon.

"The Lannisters. If I was to be King, Cersei—"

"Marriage," Jon cut him off. "Thinking ahead, are you? I've been thinking the same."

"Tywin Lannister would not doubt propose a betrothal between the both of you," explained Jon, "You are betrothed to Catelyn Tully. Your brother—Benjen—can marry her. Hoster Tully will understand. Refusing Tywin Lannister's offer will wound his pride—the Tourney of Harrenhall. We would not want to have him as an enemy."

Marrying his daughter was the answer. And all he would have to tell Jon was he accepted—that he would take the throne. Tywin Lannister would be most delighted to find that his daughter would be Queen. Aerys Targaryen had rejected Cersei, for his heir should not be married to a servant's daughter. Now he would get his wish. Cersei Lannister would not merely be a Princess. She would be Queen. His Queen.

Chapter length will increase in the next few chapters. Chapter Two will be up tomorrow! Please review! They would be very much appreciated and taken into account.