Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire.

First off, I'm incredibly sorry for the lack of updates. Trust me, this story is not abandoned. Uni was getting the best of me; I'd wanted high grades so I focused on work and wasn't able to write for so long. But now I have a lot of time on my hands so expect bountiful updates. I hope. This chapter is unedited, by the way, so I apologize if ever there're a lot of spelling mistakes and typographical errors.

Anywho, thank you so much for all your reviews! They mean the world to me. Here's the new chapter, I hope you enjoy and please review.

Chapter Twelve

They had a son. A beautiful baby boy, black of hair and grey of eyes just like his father. He was all North, he had not a drop of South in him. He had Cersei's cheekbones— barely noticeable with all his father's features on his face—and nothing else.

The birth itself was tiring. She was in the birthing bed for almost a day after the pains had started in the afternoon; each hour that passed intensified her fear more. What if it was a sign that something was wrong with the babe? Maester Luwin eased her fears by telling her that it was normal and each child was different; some took longer and some took shorter. By the time she needed to push the child out she was exhausted and almost couldn't. Ned was with her throughout. He held her hand as the pains came; he did not leave even as he hungered and warranted rest. His presence calmed her. Both the maester and the midwife persuaded him to go stay outside the chamber for it wasn't a place for a man except the maester but he had refused and remained firm in his decision to stay.

He remained just until it was time to expel the child out of her. He had wanted to stay even then, but she herself had asked him to leave because she didn't want him to see her in pain; in weakness. He obliged, and as soon as he left she let out an ear-piercing scream. Her body seemed to be on fire; she had a strong, iron grip on the sheets of the bed it felt like it was going to rip. Her fear multiplied tenfold by then. She had carried the babe for moons on end hoping that it would be born healthy; without disease. She would finally know whether the babe defied what Maester Pycelle had told her: that if she truly was able to birth a child the chances were high that it would be addled with disease or abnormality.

The babe slipped out of her quickly. She had heaved and pushed the hardest; her vision had darkened almost to a point of blindness. She thought her body would succumb to the pain and she would faint; but thankfully it hadn't. The sweet sound she heard after the last push she'd made almost moved her to tears. Her babe's wails were music to her ears. She demanded the child be handed to her at once.

"A prince, your Grace," said the maester, "A healthy one. He shows no sign of any abnormality, my Queen."

Her heart soared at the news. Luwin handed her the babe; he fit soundly in her arms. He stopped crying the moment he settled in her hold. He was perfect; all ten fingers and toes. She rocked him slowly back and forth with an arm as her finger caressed his soft cheek. He cooed at her and waved his tiny arms wildly.

She barely noticed as the midwife and her assistants delivered the afterbirth and cleaned her up. They rubbed her clean of the blood and laid new, clean sheets on the bed. They quietly dispersed afterwards; and soon enough she was left all alone with her child inside the room. She was not by her lonesome for long; her husband entered immediately afterwards and proceeded by her bedside. She smiled at him, and tilted her arms in order for him to see their new son.

"A son," she said, "What should we name him?"

"You may choose what you like," said Ned. He could not keep his eyes off their child. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand and covered the babe's head. She sees his lips turn upwards to a smile, and finds herself smiling as well.

"I would like for you to name him," said Cersei, "Have you a name in mind?"

She sees him hesitate; it takes him a full minute to answer. Finally, he decides and says, "Robb." "His name is Robb."

"Robb," says she, trying out her new son's name for the first time. Robb after Robert Baratheon; her husband's friend who had died on the way home due to a festered wound caused by Rhaegar that he left untreated. "It suits him well. Robb Stark, the new prince."

Her heart overflowed with love—love for the babe she now held in her arms. He would grow up to be happy, that she would make sure. He would be happy, just as his siblings would be. "Would you like to hold him?" she offered.

Ned shakes his head and says, "I might drop him, Cersei."

"You will not," she replies, looking at him with a smile. "I will guide your arms."

She carefully places Robb in Ned's arms, fixing them so the babe's head and back were well supported. Robb coos again and flails his arms and feet. Ned stares at him, transfixed. After a while, he says, "Thank you, Cersei." "You have given me another son."

She remembers her son, Rickard, and her heart pangs for him. She loved him still, just like any mother would. He would be of Jon's age if he were still alive. She still pains for him—and she knows that she'll never stop. Yet the pain seemed less now; like a distant memory, a wound that had almost healed.

She looked at her husband square in the eyes and planted her lips unto his. She pulled out not a minute later with a grin.

Suddenly, Robb starts to fuss in her husband's arms. Not a minute later he was crying, which caused Cersei to take him from Ned. Robb must be hungry—she hadn't fed him yet. She slipped down one sleeve from her thin slip, exposing her breast. Robb latched onto her nipples and sucked; her breasts felt tender and heavy but now that the babe was born they would go back to their normal size in no time.

The door suddenly bursted open, revealing both Dany and Jon.

"Daenerys!" Synda scolds the child, trying to get ahold of her before she could go and run towards Cersei and Ned. She failed however; and not a moment later Dany was by her side, wanting to get a look of Robb. Jon was still by Wylla, his wetnurse, no doubt waiting whether he could come forward. He looked as if he was keen on seeing Robb. His hair was all tangled, beads of sweat were on his face and he seemed to be catching up on his breath. Cersei could deduce right away that the children escaped from their wetnurses to come and go to where they were now.

"We apologize, your Graces," said Wylla, "The children wanted to see the new prince; we had forbid them to do so until your Grace, the Queen has had enough rest. They escaped from their rooms and we had to run after them."

"We apologize profusely, your Grace," said Synda, "We will return at another time."

"No," said Cersei, "Let the children see their new sibling."

With a smile that reached her ears Dany ran to her side—the one that Ned didn't occupy—and sat beside her. Jon followed, though he did not seem to be in a rush. He now seemed shy, even. He climbed up the bed on his father's side. Cersei tilted her arms so both of them could see Robb with ease. Dany seemed fascinated; Jon had a look on his face that she could not seem to pinpoint. Ned was watching the both of them; no doubt calculating what they both felt regarding Robb, just like what she was doing.

"Bwo-brother," Dany stated. She could now pronounce her Rs properly, although sometimes she'd have to repeat the word she was saying to get it right. Jon, on the other hand, still pronounced his letters the same. Dany seemed thrilled with Jon; it would mean that both she and Jon would have a new playmate soon. Jon seemed shy, although he too could not keep his eyes off Robb. He was now a big brother; she knew that Jon knew as much.

"Yes, my love," said Cersei, affectionately rubbing Dany's cheek with a finger. "His name is Robb."

Dany's purple eyes twinkled. "Wobb," said Jon quietly, "Small."

"Yes," said Ned. Cersei chuckled. "All babes are small when they are born, son."

"Papa," said Dany, "Robb small. Play?"

It was the first time Daenerys ever called Ned "Papa." She only ever called her 'Mama,' and whenever Ned was there she would always cower behind her. Cersei knew she would hear Jon address Ned as such, but she never thought Dany would take to calling Ned that as well. She did not know whether Ned would permit her to. After all, Daenerys was Aerys the Mad King's daughter and Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenerys' brother, caused the wound that Robert Baratheon died of. She wondered what Ned would say about it, although she knew that he would most likely correct her.

"Babes cannot play when they are small, Daenerys," said Ned. He did not correct her, to Cersei's surprise. "You must wait until Robb is old enough to."

Dany nodded. Cersei asked her if she wanted to hold the babe, to which Dany enthusiastically said 'yes.' She let her sit next to her, and put her arm around her and slowly laid Robb in her small arms. She was not afraid that Daenerys would drop the babe, as Cersei's own arms were underneath Dany's, adding to the support. Daenerys was fascinated. Robb cooed and babbled and, seeing Daenerys' smile, laughed. Cersei laughed as well, along with Jon. And surprisingly, Ned.

A week later Ned left for King's Landing with only two of the Kingsguard. The lesser they were, the quicker they would get to the capital. He had been gone for almost seven moons; though he ruled Westeros through Winterfell during their stay they both knew it was not enough. King's Landing was a viper's nest, and though Ned trusted Jon Arryn, the Hand, he knew he needed to resume his role as King immediately else he wanted problems to arise. Ned did not want to leave them, but Cersei herself had convinced him to and reassured him that they would be alright. They would leave Winterfell as soon as Robb turned two moons old. Ned left her with a kiss that lingered on her lips long after he was gone.

She somehow missed her husband's presence around Winterfell. She spent the remaining days with the children, especially with Robb. She had become accustomed to the North, especially in Winterfell. She enjoyed the peacefulness of the place; it was always quiet unlike the South. Though the cold was harsh she'd become used to it, the furs were comfortable enough for her liking. The people were kind; the North did not have the intrigue the South had. She could picture her husband growing up in here, in the castle; a little boy who looked like Jon running about in the hallways and corridors.

She knew Ned had a sister, Lyanna, and that they were very close. Ned loved her sister; she knew that Lyanna's death affected him very much. He'd even visited her in the catacombs on the very same day that they arrived. He rarely talked about her.

The two moons passed by quickly; Robb grew each passing day. It was finally time for them to leave. Benjen and Maester Luwin bid them off; they were accompanied by the rest of the men and the Kingsguard that were left when Ned took off. Benjen made sure they were well-equipped and had food to last them all on their journey back to the capital. The journey lasted awhile; she could not wait to arrive in King's Landing and sleep in a nice, soft bed with her husband. They wore less fur each passing day. Robb now had a wetnurse; though Cersei wanted him all to herself she knew taking care of him while they were on their way to the capital would be a hard task. The wetnurse's name was Alyra, a woman with dark hair and eyes who gladly presented herself to be the prince's caretaker.

They arrived at the capital after almost a moon. Her husband was there to welcome them, he had a rare smile on his face though it was clear that he was not getting enough rest. She had thought to ask him later. They had their meals together; she asked him why and he had only told her that it was not of importance. He came to her that night, they had coupled and he took her four times before they both finally tired and succumbed to sleep.

The moons flew by in a breeze. She would usually visit Robb in his nursery and stay there for hours on end. Dany's, then Jon's, third nameday had passed. Cersei had not arranged a tourney to celebrate either of them, as she did not feel the need to. The children were now old enough to sit with both she and Ned during mealtimes without their wetnurses' guidance. They spoke in full sentences now; Dany had already perfected her pronunciation but Jon still seemed to be having trouble with his Rs. Daenerys talked nonstop, Jon was more on the quiet side.

She decided to visit Robb one night in his nursery when she could not sleep. Ned slept soundly beside her; but something she could not pinpoint was bothering her and she felt the need to go to Robb's nursery. The halls were eerily quiet; it sent shivers up her spine. It felt unsafe, though she quickly reassured herself when she remembered the Kingsguard guarding the entrance to the royal quarters. An intruder couldn't possibly get in.

She slowly and quietly opened the door to the room, and froze in horror. A man's back was facing her. She did not know this man; he did not seem to be from the Red Keep. She saw Alyra in her bed with blood flowing from her stomach. The man had Robb in an arm and a knife in his other arm's hand. He did not seem to hear the door opening. Just as he was about to plunge the knife into her babe's heart, she screamed.

"No!" she shouted and pushed the man, knocking his knife to the floor. He hit Robb's cradle, and almost dropped the babe. He quickly regained his balance, and turned to see who the assailant was. She did not know him, but he clearly knew who she was. She quickly scrambled to get his knife; he did as well but beat her to it. He knocked her to the floor and knelt on top of her, pinning her stomach down with a knee. She could not get away. He raised the knife high, and swooped down. Cersei stopped the blade from plunging inside her with both hands. Her palms bled, but she did not feel the pain. She could not let her son die. She could not let herself die, either.

She then heard the sound of running and armor clanking from the hallway. Suddenly, someone tackled the man to the ground. Robb remained safe in his arms, and was spared from the fall. She sat up and saw Ned, who had subsequently tackled the enemy to the ground. He had his sword out, and pointed it directly at the man's neck. She hoisted herself up, and ran to take her babe out of the assailant's arms. Blood flowed freely from her wound; it stained Robb's clothes.

"Take the Queen and the wetnurse to the maester," Ned ordered one of his men.

One of the men carried her in his arms; another tried to take her son away but she hissed at him and he stopped. The maester quickly cleaned and wrapped both her hands with bandages before attending to the wetnurse. It was high likely for the wetnurse to die with the amount of blood that had come out of her. Pycelle was able to save Alyra, but informed her once she woke up that due to the wound she'd sustained she would never again have children.

The guards guarding the royal quarters were doubled after the incident. Guards were now placed outside each chamber; no one could go in and out without being checked by a guard first. Ned could not wean anything from the man. He had told Cersei that the man would not speak whenever he asked him a question; he had no clues as to who hired him to kill Robb. The man was executed a fortnight later. Her palms were always painful; it killed her to use them. It would be a while before her wound was finally healed. Ned reassured her that it would never happen again. She had Robb moved to her—their—chamber. She didn't dare leave her eyes off her boy again.

Soon enough, Robb's first nameday had passed. He could now walk; he'd even said his first word which was 'Mama'. A tourney was arranged in celebration; they sent out invitations to each part of the Seven Kingdoms. Knights, lords, and ladies from every corner of Westeros came. Not just for the celebration, but because they had wanted to see the new prince who was said to look just like his father.

A letter comes to her one afternoon. She knew exactly where it was from based on the insignia on the seal. She read the letter's contents.

Her father was coming to the capital, along with Jaime and her dwarf brother, Tyrion.

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