Disclaimer: I don't own ASOIAF, sadly.

281 AC - Cersei POV

I want to see him. No, I NEED to see him. He's mine. My firstborn son. My prince. My cub. The way the handmaidens have him wrapped in a gold blanket, I can not see his face. That has to change. Pycelle is speaking to them now, hopefully telling them to hand him over to me.

That's not what he told them.

He's ushering them out the room. They still have my son. Jaime is just as confused as I am, sitting on a chair at the side of my bed. Holding my hand, attempting to calm down the fire burning inside me.

"Where are they taking my son? I want to hold him." The old man is staring at me sadly, eyes dull.

"I'm sorry, your grace, but it seems that your son did not survive. At first I thought he was simply quiet bu-" I cut him off.

"What do you mean he didn't survive? He's my son, he's a fighter. Of course he survived." I state as if it is the most obvious thing in the entirety of the world. His eyes are still dull as he speaks his next words.

"I wish that was the case but it isn't, your grace. I do not know for sure what happened but he just could not pull through. I asked the handmaidens to wash him for a proper burial. That is where he is right now, your grace." He finishes and I don't think I can breathe. I can't breathe. My heart has shattered. My life is pointless now. He was my cub and I failed to protect him.

"I w-want to...to see him." I choke out quietly to Jaime, who has moved from the chair to directly by me in bed. Holding me, I suppose trying to comfort me but I don't want his touch right now. I want my son's.

He looks in my eyes and nods his head tentatively. He makes his way out of the room slowly. Pycelle left with him, leaving me alone in the room.

'I failed my son. I failed as a mother who was supposed to protect her children.' It's all I can think about. How I failed. How powerless I feel at this moment. How devastated I am at losing someone I've never even met. My thoughts are broken by the door creaking open.

It's Jaime, holding that gold blanket. My eyes focus in on it. Jaime doesn't even know it, but he holds my life in his arms right now. He crosses the room and stands by the bed. He gently hands my babe off to me.

He's the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Tuft of black hair sitting atop his head. Robert may not be a good man or husband but I would have made my little cub into one. He would not have been like his father. He would have been like my father or Jaime. No, he would have been like me.

As I'm holding him, I'm memorizing every detail of his face. I need to remember him for what he is. Perfect.

As I'm memorizing, I'm also praying. To the Seven. To the Old Gods. To the Drowned God. To every God who has been named. Praying that he wakes up. That he wakes up right now in my arms. That his eyes just open and stares at mine.

I don't know when it started but I'm crying now. Tears are streaking down my face as I pull my cub closer to my body. I hear feet shuffling across the floor and the door closing. I assume Jaime just made Pycelle leave with him. Good, I don't want anybody to see me like this.

I lean down to give my cub a first and a last kiss. When my lips touch his forehead, I hear something amazing. A breath. Not just anybody's breath though, my son's breath. I must be going crazy though. Grief has finally made me snap. I pull back to look at him and see the greatest thing I will ever see.

Blue eyes.

Startling, beautiful blue eyes staring at me. I can't look away. I'm in a trance. He is alive. He is awake. He is staring up at me. His eyes never leave mine, not even when I yell for Jaime. This has to be confirmed by somebody else so I know that I have not lost my mind. Jaime enters, and I never look up. He approaches, I never look up. He sits next to me and when he looks at my cub's blue eyes, he falls off the bed in shock. He confirmed it. I'm not insane, my son is alive.

Pycelle must have heard the thud of Jaime's fall, because he enters soon after. As does the rest of the cunts that tried to bury my son. Jaime is pointing at my cub, babbling incoherently. He finally spits out something.

"The babe is alive and awake." Pycelle rushes to my side in an instant. Well an instant for him. I ignore most of what he is doing. So long as he doesn't try to take my son before I'm ready to give him up, we won't have a problem. I turn my attention back to my son. His breathing has picked up some but not enough for my liking. It's at this moment that one of the midwives attempts to pick my son up and take him away, so we can rest.

"If you do not step away from me and my son, I will have you hanged by your entrails on the outside of the Red Keep for the entire world to see." I bark out with an icy glare. Well as much of a glare that I can muster now that the fatigue has dawned on me. Jaime grabs the hilt of his sword for extra effect. She understands the message and immediately backs away from the bed with her head bowed.

"Your grace, she was just attempting to-" I suppose this is the head midwife, or at least the one with the most guts. I cut her off before she can finish.

"She was trying to take my son away from for the second time. The first time was because he was dead, which clearly he is not. If he is tired then I shall hold him while he sleeps, because I do not trust you people with my child's life anymore. Now leave before I get angry." Jaime steps in at this moment to escort them out of the room and hopefully out of the Keep.

"Well this is the most curious birth I have seen. I do believe that this is the first time that a babe has had a delayed awakening, but I could be wrong." Pycelle states from beside my bed. He is writing something in a book. It's a rather large book, most likely he is documenting my cub's birth. "Your grace, mayhaps I hold the child? I need to measure his weight and write down his features and a few other minor details. You can watch as I do these things if you do not trust me either."

"If it must be done, then you can do it. But I will be watching as well." I gently hand my son over to the aging man. My cub lets out a loud wail as the old man takes him from me. And I am so happy that he did such a thing. It proves he loves his mother. While my son is being weighed, the door opens once again. In comes my husband, with Jaime trailing him. As well as Tyrion, the little monster. I forgot he was in the capital.

"Well how are you doing? Ready for another one yet?" Robert asks with a boisterous laugh. Jaime has a downtrodden face while the imp has a small smile. My cub starts to whine a bit. Good, he's learning already. Pycelle starts to hand him back to me when Robert pushes his hands out to take ahold of him first. Robert is now holding my child. He isn't drunk thankfully, so I'm not afraid that he will drop him...

This time anyways.

He's inspecting my cub. I don't know whether I like this or not. Calculating, stormy blue eyes meet alert, light blue eyes. They stare at each other for only a few seconds.

"My son." Robert coos. I would have never believed that he could coo if I did not hear it myself. "Look at you, a true Baratheon. You'll make a fine king one day. I can feel it in my bones." He actually speaks the truth. My cub will be a great king, and an even better man. My cub gurgles and reaches for Robert's face. The smile on Robert's face as my cub touches his cheek is the brightest smile I have ever seen on him. It makes me sick to see it. "Have you named him?" He asks me without taking his eyes off of my cub.

"I was waiting for you so we could decide it together." I say as politely as possible. Jaime quirks an eyebrow at that. Robert nods his head before he turns it to me.

"What about Steffon? After my father. A strong name for a strong boy. Huh, do you like it?" He asks the last question to my cub, who whines in response. Jaime and the imp chuckle at that. Robert laughs at it. "Well I will take that as a no then. What is your suggestion, Cersei?"

"Joffrey?" I say, confident my cub will accept it. He doesn't. He whines at my name suggestion also. So there we all sit, calling out names. Hoping my cub will accept one. Tommen, Lyonel, Tycen, Orys, Raymont, Cerion, Loreon, name after name. All disapproved by my cub until the imp threw out a suggestion. His first one.

He speaks quietly, almost silent. Jaime hears him and asks him to repeat it. Robert quiets down to hear the name. The imp speaks one more time. "What about Draedon?" All eyes and ears in the room fall onto my cub to hear his vote. He gurgles instead of whines so I suppose that's a yes.

"Draedon Baratheon, first of his name. I like it. Good choice." Robert speaks. Jaime nods his agreement, but his eyes are on me. The imp is happy my cub chose his suggestion. I have never wanted to drown him more in my entire life than right now. I do hate him but I also like the name so I'll just move on from this. For now.

Robert is apparently tired of not drinking and whoring so he hands me Draedon and exits the room after bidding everyone a good night. Pycelle has finished his writing and exits also. The imp also leaves, most likely going to his whores and wine. He extends Jaime an invitation to join him, Jaime declines and tells him to have a fun night. The imp leaves after saying bye to my cub. Draedon gurgles his reply. The monster has a smile when he leaves.

Jaime wants to stay by my side but he wants to leave me some alone time with my new babe. He takes the latter and leaves after a kiss goodnight. Now it's just me and Draedon, who is now sleeping in my arms. He has had a long day. One minute he's not here, then the next minute he isn't breathing. And then, by some miracle, he is. He looks so peaceful in my arms.

Looking at Draedon sleeping, my mind ventures to think of the future. Robert will want to foster him somewhere when he is of age. Most likely with his brothers or with Stark in the North. I'll try to send him to the Rock with father. I can already imagine that argument with Robert. I see Draedon sword training with Jaime. Lessons with Pycelle. Protecting and playing with his younger siblings.

I can't wait for the future.

Six years later - Cersei POV

This was not exactly what I had imagined my future to be. I have been blessed with three children, two of which are Jaime's own. Draedon has become the brother I thought he would be. A protector and best friend of Joffrey, just like it should be. Joff really looks up to him, almost as if he is the greatest living knight. It truly is sweet. I hope that that never changes.

Draedon wasn't alone for too long before I fell pregnant with Joffrey. Only about a year and a half. I knew as soon as I found out I was going to have another child, that it was Jaime's. So they would look like either Jaime or myself, instead of looking like Draedon and the rest of the Baratheon family. Draedon's eyes have darkened to a stormy blue. He has the hearts of everyone he meets. Everyone from the servants to the commonfolk. Even Stannis, the dour man he is, loves to be around him. He may not show it but he is always coming to see him.

When Joffrey was born, Draedon would try to spend all the time he could in the nursery. Talking to Joffrey, well as much as a two year old could talk. Sleeping beside his crib. He had been so happy to have a little brother to play with, to watch over. The next few years, that hasn't changed. It has only gotten stronger. Joff has begun to follow him everywhere, playing knights with each other, Draedon even helped him learn how to read. Through bribery no less. For every sentence that Joff read correctly, he got a sweet. My oldest cub has grown up smart and ready for the game.

When I told them that they were going to be joined by another brother or a sister, Draedon was excited while Joffrey was upset about it. He didn't want to have to fight for my attention with a younger sibling. Draedon whispered something in his ear and Joff's whole demeanor changed in an instant. He jumped out of his chair, ran over to me, and hugged me tighter than he ever did before. When I asked Draedon what he told Joffrey, he just smiled and said he didn't know what I was talking about.

Then my beautiful little replica was born. When Joffrey seen her for the first time, he was indifferent to her. He started to walk out the room to go play knights with Draedon, but Draedon didn't leave the room with him. He never even took his eyes off of Myrcella, he loved her the moment his eyes hit her face. It was at that moment that I knew that Draedon was going to be a force for any marriage contracts in the future. After that meeting though, I haven't allowed them to spend too much time with Myrcella yet as she is still a bit young for that. It also doesn't help that she rarely stops crying.

Pycelle nor the wet nurses know what is the cause of her cries. She is crying right now, same as all day today. Draedon nor Joffrey have cried this much in their entire young lives. All I want is silence, just for a few minutes so I can think of ways to extend it even further. Robert is also being affected be it, so at least one good thing has come from her wails.

"Why must she cry so much? Is her life really that difficult?" Robert asks me, as if I know the answer. If I knew why she cries, I would stop them. But sadly I don't know.

Before I could respond, the most beautiful sound I could ever hear hit my ears. Silence. Absolute silence from Myrcella. Blissful peace, if only for the next for minutes. This is truly amazing. But now I'm curious as to why she is so silent all of a sudden.

While I was thinking of all of the reasons that could have made her be silent, a wet nurse came to our room. When asked why Cella stopped crying, she responded saying we should follow and see the reason. Robert looks over at me and shrugs, as if he could care less about why. I glare at him and he sighs and begins to rise so he could follow. When we make it to the room, we peek inside.

The sight inside the nursery made my heart swell and tears meet my cheeks. There, sitting on the ground with his back against the wall, is Draedon holding a sleeping Myrcella. And it's in that moment that everything becomes clear to me. She is like me in more than one way. She is an exact copy of me. She loves her brother more than anybody else.

She only wanted to be with her brother.

I don't know whether to be worried about this development or relieved. Worried that they will become like me and Jaime. Relieved that he would die to protect her no matter anything else. A presence makes itself known while I'm in thought.

"Like mother, like daughter I suppose. You used to cry unless we were in the same room as children." Jaime says with his traditional smirk plastered on his face. I shoot him a glance, hoping he understands that this isn't the time for this conversation. He doesn't understand apparently. "Only your cries were louder than the princess's are. Look at them, off into their own little world, completely oblivious to the people watching them."

The words he speaks are true. Draedon hasn't looked up while Cella is asleep. It is truly the most adorable thing I have seen. I just now noticed that this little scene has caused a small crowd to form. In the crowd, there is Jaime and myself. Robert, while less than ten feet away from me, is blatantly flirting with some blushing handmaidens. Some wet nurses have also stopped to watch what could have stopped the princess from crying.

Nobody, aside from me and Jaime, sees anything other than a protective older brother adoring his baby sister. I see a problem that may or may not happen. While Jaime sees our past.

"Make sure everyone leaves." I whisper to Jaime. He immediately follows the order. He doesn't have to try to hard, as when the king leaves so does everyone else. And for that, I am grateful. Once we are alone, Jaime follows me into the nursery. I walk into the room only to find both my oldest and my youngest cub asleep. I pick Myrcella up from Draedon's arms and set her in her crib. Jaime grabs up Draedon and begins to walk out of the room with him, only to stop because of cries. Cries coming Myrcella.

"It appears that she needs her brother." She is like me then. I couldn't sleep unless Jaime and I were in the same crib. "What's the harm in one night?" They are innocent, seven hells Myrcella is still a newborn babe. You can't get any more innocent than that.

"Fine, let them sleep together. Just for tonight though. I do not want this to become a habit." Jaime nods, and then proceeds to place Draedon down in the crib next to Cella. Jaime moves next to me and puts his hand on the small of my back. And as we stare down at the sleeping children, my mind wonders what the future holds for my children and their bonds.

Three Years Later - Cersei POV

I used to love tournaments when I was a child. But with the hundred or so that I've seen in my lifetime, I have no use for them anymore. The best rider wins the jousting, best swordsman wins the melee, and honestly who cares about archery. But here I sit, watching another tournament. Only this one has an actual reason to be seen. It's this tournament's melee that will decide the crown prince's sworn shield. My little cub protects everyone else, it will be nice for him to have a protector also.

Speaking of Draedon, he might be the most excited person about this tournament. It is no wonder why. The tournaments were beginning to bore him also, right until he was told that the next one was for him. He perked right up. Joffrey was also excited, but for different reasons. He just wanted to see blood. It scares me that he wishes pain was brought upon just about every person. Myrcella has shown she is an extremely bright girl. Both mentally and physically. She is energetic and loving to just about everyone. Especially Draedon and Tommen. Tommen may only be two years of age but he knows that Draedon is always there to save him, while Myrcella is there to love him. Joffrey stays away from him for the most part, jealous of the attention I suppose.

The relationships between the children have began to change and become defined for the future. Draedon and Joff have started drifting apart, they still love each other but not like they did. Myrcella has taken the love lost from Draedon and Joff's relationship and added it to her own with Draedon. Everything she does, she does for approval and appraisal from Drae. He happily obliges her. The relationship for Tommen with the others are loving and supportive from Cella and Drae. Joffrey ignores him for the most part.

I know Joffrey still has it in him to be the scared little brother like before. He proved it just two years ago, during the Greyjoy Rebellion. He cried and latched on to Draedon when Robert left. Draedon really stepped up and became the prince the city needed at the time. He was the lifeline of Cella and Joff. He stayed strong for us all. Since the end of the rebellion though, he hasn't reverted back to who he was yet. He still thinks he has to be strong for everybody. And that frightens me. If he keeps it up, he will self implode and he will never be the same again. I wish he would talk to me. But he has remained the best brother to all of his siblings.

Like right now, Tommen is sitting on Draedon's lap. Giggling after being tickled by him. Cella is directly beside them in another chair with a happy smile plastered on her face, while Joff is by me. Scowling at them. He is so angry now, I don't understand why though. He has a good life. A loving family. He is just so dark. I'll have to work harder to show him he is loved. Draedon will be fine with less attention, Cella will turn to Draedon for more, and Tommen is too young to really care about it too much. Back to the tournament, the jousting just finished. Jaime won it after defeating some hedge knight, whose name I have already forgotten. All of the young men with jousting talent did not compete in the joust. They are saving themselves for what's next. The melee. Ser Arys Oakheart from the Reach. Both the Clegane brothers are also competing. I pray that the Mountain does not win. I do not want that monster by my cub's side all day every day. Always in his ear, throwing out his own advice and insight on situations. Instilling bloodlust in my son. He might very well force a sword into his hands.

At ten years of age, Draedon has not found any interest in swordplay. Jaime nor Ser Barristan can get him interested in it. Myself nor Robert can do so either. Robert is rather extremely disappointed in that. Fortunately, he doesn't just lounge around all day long. After his lessons, he prefers to read and learn about history and other subjects. Such as war tactics and strategy. He knows he's meant to be a leader instead of a soldier. I'm proud that he has distinguished that fact so early in life. He is preparing for being king the right way. Although I wish he would take an interest in some weapon so he can defend himself.

Robert calls for the first match to begin. The Mountain against a distant Lannister cousin of mine. Oh, I wonder who will win. The man barely pushing six foot tall or the monster standing at eight feet. They may be only using blunted tourney swords but that doesn't make Clegane any less dangerous. Just as quickly as the match starts, it ends. Clegane advances with a brutal swing. A broken helmet and a shattered jaw is what our cousin ends with. Quite lucky, if I say so myself.

Sandor Clegane is next up against one of the many Frey's. Steffon the Sweet, I believe. What a horrible name for a man. The Frey's produce too many members of their horrible weasel looking family. This one doesn't even look as if he seen any sort of battle, compared to the proven killer in Clegane. We will see if 'Sweet' can be deadly.

The match begins with them circling each other in the yard. Frey breaks it for a wide swing, Clegane blocks it with his shield and then shoulder charges Frey's shield to knock him down. It succeeds somewhat, Frey stumbles backwards. Clegane jumps at the weakness with an overhead swing. Frey drops to his knee to block it with the shield. Clegane kicks the shield, it flys out of Frey's hold. Now Frey only has a sword against a monster of a man. Clegane sees that and smells blood in the water. He swings fast and wildly, trying to catch Frey in another moment of weakness.

He finds that moment when his sword is blocked low by Frey's feet. Clegane's shield meets Frey's face. Easily a broken nose if not more. In those few seconds of complete weakness, Clegane finishes the fight with a headbutt with his hound helmet on. Frey is out cold, bleeding profusely from the broken nose and a giant gash on the top of his head. In a real fight, Frey would have a sword through his chest right about now. While Clegane would be on to his victim. Clegane wins and advances to the next round.

Bets are being made on the victor. The smart gamble would be the Mountain. I am hoping a miracle stops him from winning. If only I could be so lucky. My little cub will be around that monster for the test of his life. Although, that will mean he has a close to unstoppable warrior by his side. In times of war, that will be very helpful.

While everyone else is watching the Mountain, I'm watching his younger brother. The Hound is almost as deadly as the Mountain, just less experience. He has the best chance to beat Gregor out of everyone. He's close, if not already over 7 feet. The scars just add to his menacing look.

So there we all sat. Watching match after match until there was only two men were left. Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides, versus Sandor Clegane, The Hound. The fight that has been brewing for years, ever since the toy incident if rumors are true. I'm not going to be the one to ask the Hound about his scars. By the time they enter the yard, everyone is already on their feet. Waiting in anticipation.

The two monsters of men stand before the royal pavilion and bow to us. They part ways with a wave from Robert, and set their feet in battle positions. Silence fills the yard, not a word is said as swords are drawn. Right as Robert is about to yell for it to begin, the silence is broken.

"My Lord, message for you." The Mountain's squire says, quietly if I do say so myself. Perhaps out of fear for his Lord. Gregor looks to him and shrugs his shoulders. He averts his eyes back to little brother and crouches in position just a little. "My Lord, it's urgent." The squire again interrupts.

Gregor's pissed now. He stabs his sword into the ground and throws his shield across the yard as if it was rock in his way. He rips his helmet off and marches to the squire. He snatches the parchment and slams the helmet into the boy's chest. Most definitely going to bruise the boy. He reads the parchment once. Twice. Three times, before he speaks in his rough gravely voice of his.

"I forfeit." As soon as he says that, he turns and leaves. Squire on his heels as he walks. Nobody knows what just happened, so we are all silent. Until someone breaks it.

"So he's my sworn shield?" Draedon whispers. More to himself than to anyone else. But he broke Robert out of his stupor.

"People of King's Landing, may I present to you your champion." People clapped and cheered for the young man. It may not have ended the way they wanted but they'll get over it. "Sandor Clegane, I Robert of House Baratheon, First of my name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms do hereby name you sworn shield of my eldest son and Crown Prince, Draedon."

And now my eldest cub has a protector, a secret keeper, a mentor, and a friend in his loyal dog. Today has been a good day.

4 Years Later - Sandor POV - 294 AC

When I swore my life to protect the Prince, I assumed he would be different from what he is. I thought he would arrogant. I thought he would be stupid. And when I first saw him, I assumed he loved to fight from his body type.

A tall child, taller than most of his peers. Takes after his father in that aspect. High cheekbones from his mother. Shoulder length dark hair with stormy blue eyes. He will grow to be the exact replica of his father. Muscled like a maiden's fantasy. He even showed no fear when looking at me. That surprised me, most can't handle it. But he smiled at me. A legitimate smile of happiness.

I was wrong about his personality and attitude. The boy is very bright. Well above average in terms of intelligence. He is a bookish boy. Strange really. Most boys prefer to hit something at his age. He was a late bloomer in that category. I remember his exact words to me the morning he wanted to train.

I was waiting for him at breakfast, standing in the back while his family are. He leisurely strolls in with a determined look in his eye. We make eye contact and he speaks.

"Sandor, I require a sword and shield. It seems I must become a warrior." A boy of two and ten. That's when he decides to learn. His family stops what they are doing and look at him. He smirks and says, "I'll be in the training yard waiting for you, Sandor." And he walks away.

And I walked after him. He was waiting for me, like he said he would be. I hand him the weapons he asked for and we began. And we trained like that for close to nine hours straight. He has a natural talent for the song of swords but not the love that myself and my brother have for it. Not yet anyways.

Everyday for hours at a time, we would spend training. For five moons he worked hard and it showed in his two and ten year old body. The problem wasn't his ability, no. The problem was the fact that he refrained from violence as much as possible. He never shied away in training, but he never jumped at the opportunity to fuck somebody up either. He just beat you without finishing it.

But then he began to foster with his uncle Stannis on Dragonstone. We still trained but nothing like we were used to. Actually I was usually doing a task for Draedon. For half a year we stayed on that island. He remained inside most of the time, reading books, playing with the greyscale girl, or learning something from Lord Stannis. It was quite boring actually.

Then, on the day of our return to the capital, we were finishing up our training regiment. I allowed him to beat me, just to see if he changed any during our tenure on the island. He had changed. When I was down on the ground, he kicked my sword away and put his blade to my throat. A first for him, he usually backs away and sheaths his blade. So now I'm curious.

"What changed?" I ask him simply. He understands what I speak of.

"Uncle Stannis taught me to never let my enemy up if I can give them a quick clean death." I nod at his reply. At least he finally learned. Late bloomer in the art of war and combat, but at least he understands sooner or later. Preferably sooner, so he doesn't die. He would be a good King.

Much better than that little shit, Joffrey. That's for sure. He's starting to become a hassle and a problem for my Prince. It's my duty to put an end to his problems for him. So the boy needs to calm the fuck down with his attitudes. I saw what he did to that kitchen maid's pregnant cat. If Draedon ever gets an animal companion and that happens to it, I will personally rip that little cunt's eyes out and skull fuck him.

The Prince is a great person to work for. He allows me to give him advice when he wants it, he allows me to roam where ever I want as long as I do nothing extremely bad, and he never speaks badly to me. For those reasons, I will stay forever loyal to that boy. So long as he will let me stay.

Just a few days after our arrival to the capital, Draedon had to settle the cat issue. He paid the maid five gold pieces and replaced the cat with a new kitten. He also apologized on behalf of the entire family. He was quite respectful and he handled it really well. Good starting point for the political world he was born into. His parents were proud of him it appeared. I was proud of how he handled himself in that situation. Real King like.

After that was handled, we were called in to listen to some of the common folk's problems. A small village west of Antlers was raided by bandits. This was not the first time for this village either. This was the fourth time this month. When the King dismissed them as small rabble, Draedon stepped forward.

"Father, I wish to handle these bandits. If that is acceptable, I wish to leave immediately." He spoke very clearly and refined. The Queen was instantly against the idea, but the King dismissed her with a wave.

"Very well, you are my son and the future King. It is about time you deal with a serious issue on your own. Go collect some men and be on your way then." That was the end of the discussion. Draedon waved me to follow and follow I did.

He kissed his sobbing sister goodbye and we were on our way out to the training yard for recruitment. Turns out the Prince has a silver tongue when it comes to motivating men for his cause, as we now have close to thirty men at our backs. As we begin to leave, the Queen stops us at the gate.

"Draedon, must you leave so soon. The bandits can wait another day or two." She pleads with him, as close to begging that she will get.

"A King should never wait to save his people." And with that, he spurs his horse into a gallop. He never saw the looks on small folk's faces when they heard that. It was anticipation. They are ready for a King like that. We all follow soon behind.

With the speed we ride, we make it to Rosby by night fall. Obviously, they are quite accommodating to our party. Although, we don't supp with them. We just take some light supplies and head to our rooms to sleep for the long day on the morrow. Draedon wakes me before dawn to break our fast and to start preparing to ride. He begins to wake the rest of the men also. While the men are eating, I take the opportunity to study our leader. This is his first real fight, I can see he's nervous. He hasn't eaten much. I see his hand, shaking when he reaches for his cup. He's scared. But about what in particular, I wonder.

"Your Grace, may I speak to you for a moment?" I ask him. He nods and we walk to the corner of the room.

"What is it Sandor?" His voice breaks a little.

"Are you going to be okay? You don't have to come with us today. I can lead the men and end it quickly." I give him an out. I know he won't take it though.

"What kind of Prince would I be if I backed down from some lowlife bandits, Sandor?" I knew he wouldn't take it.

"Well if that's your mentality, then why are you so nervous? You've barely eaten and you are shaking like a flower in the wind." He looks taken aback for a moment before he sighs and rubs the back of his head.

"It's that obvious then?" I just stare at him. He sighs on more time. "I'm scared, Sandor. I'm scared that I won't be good enough to lead these men to victory. And if I can't do that, how could I possibly lead the Seven Kingdoms?" He is so full of self doubt that he honestly believes that? I wish I would have known this earlier in my servitude, I would have tried to fix it. "Soon everyone will see that I'm weak, and then nobody will follow me. You will abandon me just like my family will. And I'm scared for that. I don't want to be alone."

"My Prince, I will never abandon you. You have my loyalty until the day I die. Secondly, your family won't abandon you either. Your sister loves you more than a flower loves sunshine. And thirdly, you're not weak. When we finish the bandits off today, you will see that you are not weak. But that you are strong, stronger than you will ever know." I put my hands on his shoulders to hold him here until the end.

"A weak man will raid a village, a strong man will defend it. A weak man will kill an innocent child, a strong man will protect it. My brother is a weak man, but you aren't. Look, Draedon," he makes eye contact with me now, "it's hard to take your first life for a lot of men. But it's something you must do in order to grow up and become stronger. Do you understand?" He nods slowly, the recognition in his eyes beginning to settle in. "Good, now let's eat something. It's no good to fight on an empty stomach." We sit down again and begin to eat some more.

I'm not a motivational speaker but for my Prince, I will be what he needs me to be. Fuck, the boy is making me soft. I killed my first man when I was twelve, I shouldn't care about his feelings. Yet here I am, calming him down. Sometimes I wish he was a arrogant little prick, so I wouldn't care too much. But he isn't that sadly.

With fresh supplies, we are on our way to the small village where the attack happened. We make good time with minimal breaks, mainly just resting the horses. Draedon has me go out to the nearby woods for scouting. Maybe if I'm lucky I can find some of these bandits and bloody my blade. I take with me ten men, just in case we do find some of them. I feel like this is a waste of time, the sun is going to begin going down soon anyways. About an hour of scouting later, I find nothing so my group begins to trek back to the village. I was correct in my assumption about the sun. It started going down about twenty minutes ago. It begins to rain on our way back.

I can feel something is not right. As we are walking back, we hear screams coming from the village. It's under attack. It's under attack and I'm not with the Prince. By the time we make it back, a battle is happening. I see the bodies already on the ground, blood cascading down their bodies. I see the Prince leading the men that stayed with him, blood covering his entire front. Standing toe to toe with a man taller and stronger than him. Blades locked until Draedon does a graceful spin and slices the man across his back. The man drops to his knee, only to have a sword enter through his back and exit his chest. There is something poetic about a young Prince leading his men in the middle of a storm with blood covering him.

We're outnumbered almost two to one. More than what we were told about. Let's fucking kill these bastards. My group pulls our swords out and join the fighting. In an instant, I'm by Draedon's side. They lack technique and proper steel. It's not long before those fifty drop down to only ten. They surrender quickly when they realize that numbers didn't help them.

"What do you want us to do with them, my Prince?" One of our men asks. Draedon thinks on it for a moment.

"Listen up. You have two choices. Death or the Wall. Make your choice and do it quickly." Three men choose death. Seven choose the Wall. "Sandor, find me something I can use as a chopping block." I scamper off to find something. I come back with a solid piece of wood, used for chopping wood. So it will do just fine.

"Here you are, my Prince. Should I take their heads?" I set the wood down and grab the first man who will die. The man looks as if he hasn't shaved in over a year.

"No. I'll do it myself. I need to do this." I nod my head and hand him a sword. Three and ten years old and about to behead three men himself. Good, it's nice that he still wants to finish things. It takes him a single swing to take the man's head. Now the other two want the Wall, now that it's their turns. "There are no second chances in life. You made your decisions, now stay with them." Now I'm impressed. After the next two took their last breaths, Draedon said something I did not expect.

"Sandor, cut off a finger for each raid that they did. You won't need all of them to take orders at the Wall." At that, he walked away and I chopped fingers off. We left the village two days later, only to make it to the capital the same day. Only stopping to rest the horses. We left with thirty and returned with eighteen. Not a bad trip really.

They have some guards at the Old Gate when we return. They deny us entry until Draedon tells them who he is. They immediately back down, not wanting to upset the Crown Prince. The men disperses as soon as we touch our feet to cobblestone. Draedon makes sure the horses are taken and are going to be properly fed and watered before we enter the Keep. When we make it to the throne room, we find out the King is holding court. The Queen spots us and almost instantly leaps with joy from her seat.

"My son is back. Are you injured? Did something terrible happen? Did you allow something to happen to him?" The last question was directed at me. Draedon hugs her and she immediately calms down and sinks into the hug.

"I'm fine mother. The bandits are taken care of and I am uninjured, mainly due to Sandor." I smirk at that. He gave me praise, that's surprising to me. But I won't question it. The King speaks next, with a booming laugh.

"That's my boy, already cracking skulls in such a way. I'm proud of you, Draedon. But because you did me and the people a favor by taking care of the bandit problem, name me a boon and I will see it done." Draedon stands still for a moment. Thinking for what he wants. The court is silent, as well as the members of the Small Council. "Do you need some time to think or do you know what you want?"

"I know what I want. I want you to do what should have been a long time ago." Now everybody's interest is piqued. The King leans closer. "I want you to give Uncle Stannis what is rightfully his. Storm's End." Stannis is shocked, it shows on his face. The King is also, hells Renly is outraged. Renly is about to speak when Draedon cuts him off. "It was his to rule until you slighted him for something he couldn't control. Fix the wrong that you did at the beginning of your rule so I don't have to do it when you die." He is a fierce little fucker when he sets his mind to something. The King is silent, as is everyone else in the room. Waiting for his decision or retort.

"Fine. Stannis you have half a year to secure their allegiance to you and to make your home in Storm's End. Renly, same to you for Dragonstone. We will finalize the switch later. Now I am tired and I need to speak to the Crown Prince. Alone." Stannis is still shocked, Renly still outraged, and the rest of the court is appraising the Crown Prince and his politics I assume. The King grabs Draedon and heads into a room down the hall. They are the only ones to enter.

I never did find out what the King and the Prince talked about privately. Not even the Queen knows, nor even Varys for that matter. Weird man he is. A few weeks after we returned from the bandits, Draedon was invited to Casterly Rock by Lord Tywin himself. So what does Draedon do? He brings his Uncle Tyrion with him to the Rock. Trying to make a statement I believe.

Tyrion shows us where we will be staying for the duration of our stay. Rooms are a bit extravagant but I'm not gonna complain about it. So long as it has a bed, I'm fine. Draedon is called to Lord Tyson's solar not long after. I was told to wait outside while he met with his grandfather for the first time.

Tywin POV

When the boy entered my solar, I examined him rather blatantly. I stared at him to see what type of man he will become. A weak man like my father, or something more. To his credit, the boy never faltered from my stare. That should say something. He stood by the chair on the opposite side of my desk, waiting for it to be offered to him. So that's what I did.

"Please, sit down Your Grace. I know you must be tired from the journey so I will keep this short so that you may rest. I am Tywin, your grandfather. And you were asked here for one simple reason, the future." He quirked an eye brow at that.

"The future, my lord?" Respectful, well mannered, and a protector of his people... How is this Robert's child?

"Yes, the future. Your father has Jon Arryn as his hand, with the Stark's army backing him up. But what do you have? When you take over, you will notice that Dorne never comes out of their deserts. Northerners never come South unless for war. The Iron Islands wish to be nothing more than raiders. While the Reach wishes for more power. When you assume the throne, I can help you keep it and help you keep the Kingdoms aligned to you and only you. All you need to do is ask." It is a good offer. I have experience in politics and war. Much more than he does.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I will have to put your offer to the side for right now. As I am no where close to ascending to the throne, so I do not wish to make alliances for the future that one side may never see. My father has the possibility to live for another fifty years or so, while you on the other hand, don't. So if it pleases you my Lord, I'm going to retire for the night. As you were correct to assume the journey was quite long." He stands from the chair and begins to make his exit after I nod my agreement, when he abruptly stops. "Actually my Lord, may I ask a favor from you?" A favor, that may be even better than an alliance. If he is in my debt, I may be able to do things that I otherwise wouldn't try.

"Of course, your Grace. How may I help you?" It helps that I'm genuinely curious, as well.

"I ask you to loan me 50,000 gold dragons." Ahh, so it is Robert's son.

"May I ask what for?"

"I understand your concern, my Lord, but my business is my own. And I understand that I do not have any credit for you to really trust me but a man is only as good as his word. You will get your gold back, I promise it." Well that's nicely played. I could have him watched to see what it's for.

"Very well your Grace. I will make sure it's arranged by the time you leave for the capital. Have a nice night." And with that, he leaves.

That boy, with the right teacher, could be extremely dangerous in the game when he gets older. I will have to earn his loyalty. That might prove to be tricky. And if I can't get him under my control, I will put somebody else on the throne who will be under it.