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Queen Cersei Lannister screamed.

Her screams of pain echoed throughout King's Landing as she went through what had to be the worst pain imaginable.

She was giving birth.

No, not only was she giving birth, but she was giving birth to the child of 'that man'. That horrible excuse for a King who she had married. That man who had never loved her and who had always carried a torch for a Stark, long after the wolf bitch's death. A man who drank and whored most of his day, right in front of his wife's face.

She didn't want to have this baby. She had never wanted to have it, and because of that, she had tried to take measures to make sure that the creature that had grown from that bastard's seed had never tasted its first breath.

She had tried everything from injuries, to starvation, to even poisoning herself to the point where she feared for her own life. Anything to halt the growth of the worm that was crawling around inside of her. But no mater what she did, it didn't seem to matter. Her pregnancy had preceded without any sign of complications. If anything, it had moved along faster than normal.

And now, it seemed as though the baby was getting its revenge. Punishing the mother who didn't want it. Causing the proud woman to cry out in pain.

"Breath Your Grace, you need to breath!" The midwife instructed the Queen, a Maester was standing close by in case of emergency, but it was considered ill luck to have any save a woman help during the birthing process.

"I know that! Now shut up before I have you quartaHHH!" The Queen's threat was cut off when the cramping became unbearable.

'May the Seven damn this child, and its disgusting father!' Cersei thought bitterly as she bit down on her lip until the soft pink flesh turned white. Several long horrible minutes dragged on as the queen prayed for the baby to just die. But no one answered her prayers.

It was with a mixture of relief and disgust that the Lannister heard the baby's first cries, strong and sharp. "Congratulations your Grace, she's a strong little girl." The midwife said, cleaning the crying babe of birthing fluids before holding the girl out for the mother.

Cersei didn't reach for her new born daughter. She just stared at it with wide eyes. The people around her were contributing it to the shock of birthing, but the queen's mind was a whirlpool of disbelief. The child was perfect. After everything she had done to try to rid herself of the parasite, it was a perfectly normal baby.

As the child was held out to her, the queen took notice of the girl's physical characteristics. She had small toffs of raven black hair, even darker than her father's, and the deepest topaz blue eyes that the woman had ever seen. All of them were characteristics of the father, King Robert Baratheon, only they seemed more intense in this baby girl. Even her skin was closer to the king's tanned complexion than the queen's pale beauty.

All of this worked together to convince Cersei of something that she had believed the moment she realized she was pregnant with that man's spawn.

This was not her child. This was Robert's child and not hers. It didn't matter if she had given birth to it, Cersei would never accept this baby as being her own. She was just glad that it turned out a girl, and so had only a weak claim to the throne.

"Come on, give her here! Let me have a look at her!" Robert said, practically pouncing on the midwife in order to wrestle away the girl. Robert had always been a massive man of nearly six and a half feet, and even if his last year as king had seen him slacking, he still had much of the build of a proud warrior. His bright blue eyes looked into the girl's even deeper blue, as he brought their two faces close together.

The baby stopped its crying and reached out with its hands, grabbing fistfuls of the man's beard, pulling on it any which way, causing Robert to burst out laughing. He brought up one hand to try to free his facial hair from the girl's grasp but was having some difficulties getting her to let go. "Already trying to manhandle me, are you? Strong and stubborn, just as a good Baratheon babe should be." The king laughed, kissing the baby's forehead, causing the child to give a sputter and start to try to push the man's face away. Cersei glared at the scene of the man playing with his 'first born daughter', with him seeming to have forgotten he had already produced a bastard one three years prior. Though the queen's displeasure was only fated to get worse. "Lyanna. That is going to be your name little one, Lyanna Baratheon."

Many faces in the room fell and people gave the queen worrying glances. After all, naming your wife's child after your former lover was a rather distasteful move. "Your Majesty, perhaps you should pick a different…" Jamie Lannister started, trying to keep his tone steady.

"She's my daughter and I will call her whatever pleases me!" Robert shouted at the man, seeming to momentarily forget that one wasn't supposed to shout in front of a new born baby. Though rather than being startled by the raised voice and starting to cry, the baby started to giggle at her father's shouts, making the giant stag even more pleased. "See, she likes the name, and dislikes you. Don't worry my little fawn, I can't stand your uncle either." Robert laughed, starting to bounce the baby up and down, to the horror of the midwife, who had to stop herself from shouting at the man when telling him to be gentle. He was the king after all, and not one to take being shouted at.

"Still you… your Ma… Majesty…" Grand Maester Pycelle started to mumble in his characteristic way, but the Queen cut him off.

"It's fine. It's his daughter. He can call it wasn't he wants." Cersei said, her voice cold, not that Robert noticed. He only had eyes for the new born girl. 'It is going to be the last true born child I will ever give you.'

"Lord of Light. Come to us in our darkness. Please, cast your light upon us. For the night is dark and full of terrors." The red priestess prayed again and again in High Valyrian to the alter of her god, R'hllor, the Lord of Light, while all the people around her shivered in fear. The woman, children and elderly of the shepherding village had all fleed into the church on the hill, hoping for some kind of miracle to save them from the Dothraki hoard that had pressed down upon them.

The three thousand horsemen my not have been the largest of hoards, but they were still more than the small village could stand up to. The man of the village, and the Red Priests who watched over the shrine to R'hllor, had gone off to battle, determined to at least make the Dothraki fight for it. But a mere sixty men wielding pitchforks does not stand a chance against an army.

The Red Priestess's words died on her tongue when the sound of hammering came from the barred wooden door. The common folk screamed in panic, climbing over each other in an attempt to get as far away from the door as possible.

Taunting laughter came from outside the wall along with shouts made in the Dothraki tongue, calls for a battering ram.

While the Dothraki weren't known to build siege weapons, carrying around a simple battering ram to break down the doors of the sanctuaries of the towns they seek to raid was common practice. It didn't take much to make the heavy oak doors rattle and the wooden plank barricade to start to splinter.

It took seven blows, but when the door finally gave way, bursting open, the Dothraki came pouring in.

The first of the savage men to make it through the door immediately set his eyes on the nearest woman, a young girl with braded brown hair. With a wide grin on his face he moved in on her, preparing to 'mount' her. He put his hands on her, ripping at her dress as he pushed her down to the ground. She screamed and thrashed against him, but he was to large and too strong for her, and no one was coming to help her. The horseman had her on the ground and was working at the tying around his own waist, lust burning in his eyes.

He never took her.

A blade whistled through the air, penetrating the man's heart and throwing him back down to the ground. Five other blades appeared in similar manners, each one flying through the air as if thrown by unseen hands and each one burying itself in the chest of one of the Dothraki raiders who had dared to touch one of the woman in the church.

Seeing this, the Dothraki stopped, eyes widening with surprise. The people of the town looked around, not daring to believe the miracle that was happening.

"My… my child." One of the women, a young girl of the village named Cymric, said, drawing the attention of others. In her hands was a bundled-up child, her new born baby, not five days old, too young to have even been named. The baby's hair was red as fresh blood, far darker than its mother's light orange hair.

Bright blue lines appeared on the child's skin, moving up the sides of its face and along one of its arms that it had held up outside of its blankets. The lines glowed with a strange light, and as they glowed more swords began to appear in the air above him.

Paying closer attention, the people watched as the outline of the blades were drawn with the same blue light, becoming clearer and more distinct until finally holding the same appearance as the real thing. Twelve blades shot through the air, flying at the Dothraki far to quickly for the horsemen to try to defend themselves, killing a dozen more in an instant.

One of the Dothraki, a blood-rider of this Hoard's Khal, cried out, pointing at the child and shouting at his men. Five of the remaining Dothraki, including the blood-rider, who had entered the church raised up their swords and threw them at the baby and his mother, trying to stop whatever magic was about.

Again, the swords made of light appeared, slashing the Dothraki blades out of the air before flying at the attackers, striking them died.

The remaining Dothraki fled, unwilling to face the magic that was at work. But even if they would not stay to claim their spoils, they would not leave a single soul alive. Torches were lit, and the church was set ablaze from the outside. It wasn't long before the entire building was in flames, the sound of the bellowing firing half masking the sound of the horses leaving the village.

The people inside of the building moved away from the walls looking to the only exit with fear, not only of the flames that surrounded it, but also if the men who might still be waiting outside.

But before the flames grew to a point were they would endanger the structural support of the building, something happened. Something that the people of the village would have a hard time explaining later.

They all 'heard' a voice. Though they couldn't tell weren't it came from, nor really how it sounded. Even so, the words echoed inside of them, though they could hardly explain what they meant.

I am the bone of my sword

Steel is my body and fire is my blood

One final sword appeared in the air, a massive blade as long as a man is tall with a handle that made it look like it had been meant to be wielded by giants.

Totsuga No Tsurugi!

The flames on the walls were pulled in towards the blade which seemed to drink them in. Within moments the fire had been put out and the sword glowed above them, the flames dancing along its surface.

"Lightbringer." Some of the Red Priestesses whispered as they all stared at the shining sword with wonder.

But after the fire was put out, the baby's hand dropped, the blue light that had shone on his skin disappeared and the swords that had been created began to slowly vanish, disappearing into specks of light.

Cymric looked down at her child with eyes full of wonder, noticing that a lock of his hair had changed from red to silver. His eyes, which had both been brown before where now two different colors, one the blight golden color of the sun while the other was the pale silver of the moon, making him as being something special.

Moments later, all of the women and children within the church were on their hands and knees, bowing down before the mother and child. They praised R'hllor, the Lord of Light, for rescuing them in their time of need.

The child was named Valorys, a child of fire.

Rin is a princess and Shirou becomes a religious icon.

I'm not saying that I am writing a Song of Ice and Fire crossover, but if I was, this is how it would go down.