Hi guys, trying to do a Chapter each week. My little sanctuary from a crazy busy life.

Don't be too hard on me with the erm-adult aspect of it. First time writing one of those.

Love, A.

Chapter Six : Plots

The wind blew warm and strong around the tower in King's Landing. "Robert is a bloody fool!" Cersei spits, cradling her goblet of wine to her chest and looking more frazzled than she usually did. "Why are you so worried sister?" Tyrion asks, reaching for a grape from the platter on the table. The wrong question to ask apparently, Cersei turns toward him so quickly, her long golden hair swinging as she approaches him "She's a princess" she says, "a Targaryen one at that"

Tyrion studies her for a long moment, "shes the last living member of her house, this marriage is just to ensure she never moves across the Sea with an army." He states this calmly but she does not seem placated in the least.

"He is always listening to those old fools, Arryn and Stark. Putting idiotic ideas into Robert's stubborn head. Can you imagine he wanted to release Jaime from the Kingsguard so he could have married her?" Cersei sips her wine angrily and Tyrion wants to laugh at his sister. He knows their secret.

He is no fool. He has seen them whispering in hallways thicker than thieves and caught Jaime staring into the cribs of his nieces and nephews with an expression Tyrion knows is expressly saved for fatherhood. Jaime had caressed her swollen belly more times than he had ever seen Robert even acknowledge the fact that his wife was pregnant, Jaime even fought to be in the birthing room with Cersei.

Inseparable and Unquestionable. Tyrion knew that much.

"What if she rebels against us?" Cersei asks suddenly," she will have Winterfell when that honorable buffoon and his old wolf lady dies won't she?"

"The Starks will never rebel if there's a Baratheon on the throne dear sister." Tyrion says quietly, but she has a good point. If the North raised its banners and declared itself independent, what would they do then? They would have the entire North and perhaps the Tullys as well. Family. Duty. Honor. Lady Catelyn's house.

But why would they? There was no need, the Kingdom was finally at peace after the long rebellion that Robert had staged to defeat the Mad King and his son Rhaegar.

Cersei does not look appeased with his response. "Robert has commanded this and it will happen and we shall be at peace." He continues, trying to make her at least comfortable with the idea.

She smirks at him, and for a minute he is reminded of the sigil of their house, at the moment Cersei greatly resembles a lioness who has spotted her prey and has already decided how best to take them down. "I know it will happen brother. Believe me; my husband is best at being a fool. But that doesn't mean it has to last as long as he wants it to. If all goes to plan the whore won't even be Lady of Winterfell. I need them closer where I can control them." Cersei smiles out the window of the Red Keep while bringing her goblet to her lips. She drinks the entire goblets of wine in one go and turns to Tyrion with her lips stained from the rich Dornish red.

Just like a lion, he thinks. What exactly was his sister planning?

WINTERFELL

ROBB POV

He could see them all. Standing in the courtyard at Winterfell, his father stands at the head of the family, he has tears in his eyes as his mother clutches his arm. Her hair is out of its braids tumbling loosely around her "I'm sorry Robb" she murmurs quietly.

Sansa and Arya are next. Sansa looks older and bruised and Arya looks different, as if she is not quite herself "Don't forget us brother" the wind whispers around him carrying their voices.

Bran and Rickon look up at him from where they are seated on the ground, their eyes are grey and unseeing and they say nothing to him.

Jon is standing at the entrance of the court, his eyes are tortured and he stutters out "You were never my brother." Robb opens his mouth to correct him to say something but nothing comes out. He watches Jon double over, blood spilling from his middle. His mother and father are next, and the rest of his family fall down down down…..to a thousand ice blue eyes.

He wakes shaking and sweating, ready to jump out of bed and look for his family when a hand grabs his arm. Forgetting that his bed isn't only his now, he grabs the arm and flips the surprisingly light person over so that he has the upper hand on his assailant.

He is startled when a pair of purple eyes meets his, and he immediately regrets his actions, releasing her arms and stuttering an apology. He is still shaking.

"Robb its alright shhh" she hesitantly puts an arm on his shoulder, probably afraid he will attack her again. He notes resentfully that he has marked her arms.

The dream bounces around and around in his head as he sits up and cradles his head in his arms, "Would you like to talk about it?" Daenerys asks quietly. He glances over at her and grudgingly notes that even in the middle of the night she manages to be as beguiling as ever. Her skin is glowing from the embers in the hearth and he wonders if he should tell her what he saw. I saw the destruction of my family. Was she the one that caused it? Did the dream come to him because he slept next to his enemy?

She moves his hand from his shoulder, probably taking his silence as a no. Gods this was hard. They had been married a little over a moon now and it didn't seem to get any easier. He wanted to open up to her, she was his wife after all; but they both knew it was in name only.

"I..I don't think I can talk about it. It terrified me so, I just don't understand what it means." She sighs quietly next to him, "I know how you feel, I dream of my brother every night. I don't know what he wants me to do, he just stares at me with these dead eyes." Robb feels her shudder as she says the last part and he feels a rush of sympathy for her. She was all alone in this world, she didn't have anything other than him and his family.

They look into each other's eyes and for a second he sees exactly what she wants; sanctuary. Everything seems to go quiet after that and before he knows what is happening, she slides into his lap; pushing her shift down her shoulders.

He doesn't know if it's the pleading look in her eyes or something she sees in his, but all of a sudden he is helping her remove her shift as quickly as he can. The laces of his breeches are next, her fingers fumble in the dark but she gets them off eventually. He kisses her then and she trembles against him. All of a sudden, the paranoia disappears and he's more than willing to focus on something other than the images the dream left him.

Her milky skin becomes bruised after his attentions and she whimpers as he reaches between her thighs, she arches her back up to him as his fingers work between her legs slowly building her up.

Beautiful, is all his brain conjures as he watches her. Silver hair spread wildly across his furs, eyes shut while her hands find purchase on his shoulders.

After it all becomes too much for him, he slides into her, slowly. He hasn't touched her since their wedding and he doesn't want to hurt her. He finally loses himself here. He can't feel anything else but her her her and it feels like everything is out of control. He could be gentler, but he doesn't care right now. Nails sink into his back as he thrusts into her hard enough to elicit creaks from the bed.

She opens her eyes and he kisses her again, because he doesn't want to think about what her purple eyes are hiding. They are indigo now as she moans his name out. He's sure by tomorrow the maids and his guard outside will have enough gossip to last the year; they aren't exactly quiet.

He doesn't even know how but they end up awake until the birds start to call in the early hours of the morning. His back stings where her nails have dug him and he notices the red marks his mouth have made up the column of her neck, across her breasts and between her thighs.

Neither say anything as they lie in the receding darkness, after a lengthy silence, has she fallen asleep. The rational part of his brain awakens, and Robb finds himself trying to explain what the hell just happened in his bed. Shes my wife, it isn't a crime, he explains to himself. The voice inside his head cruelly retorts, she sold you a sad story and seduced you, is that how weak you are?

Falling back into an uneasy sleep, he hopes that tomorrow they can pretend that it never happened. Oddly, he realized that she had provided more comfort to him than if he had to seek comfort from anyone else.

Interesting.

DAENERYS POV

The bed is empty when she wakes. Not knowing whether she ought to feel disappointed or not, she looks for Asha. The handmaiden informs her that she has missed breakfast by quite a few hours and politely offers to change the sheets. These causes Daenerys to blush profusely and pull the furs about her so Asha cannot see more of the marks on her.

As she eats the bread and stew brought to her solar, she ponders on last night. She remembered climbing into his lap, and wondered briefly what in the Seven hells had convinced her to do such a thing. Ducking her head and blushing for what felt like the millionth time that day, she can hear her brother saying ' A good play my sweet sister. But was it? She had seen something in Robb's eyes so akin to how she felt that she wanted to help in some way. She wanted him to forget.

What was going to change now? He had not waited for her to wake up, had not asked for them to meet when she woke..nothing. It probably meant that he wished for it to stay in last night and between them only briefly.

Rubbing her temples, she decides that she doesn't want to think about it right now. She leaves her solar, pushing through the great oak doors of her chambers. She looks for the maester, hoping to get her hands on some history books, but runs into Sansa instead.

'Hello Daenerys, we missed you at breakfast'. Sansa is sitting in a room with a few other ladies, sewing an assortment of flowers into a fabric. Daenerys never had the opportunity to be brought up as a proper lady, with lessons on how to dance and sing and sew.

She has an interesting dynamic with this family, she muses as she sits in the lessons, actually learning to do a basic stitch after more than an hour. More than an hour of the ladies tittering, presumably at the few visible marks that peeked over her collar.

She had met all of the Stark siblings. The younger ones had taken a liking to her immediately, Rickon and Bran loved to hear about the cities over the Narrow Sea. Arya liked her because she casually mentioned the lady warriors of Volantis at dinner one evening, earning her a sharp look from Lady Catelyn and amused smiles from the rest of the table.

Lady Catelyn was another matter altogether. She regarded her with suspicion and looked at her often, as if she was going to find some new detail if she looked hard enough. Those looks from the lady of the Castle were not only reserved for her, the bastard of Winterfell got quite a few too.

A solemn boy named Jon, with dark hair and dark eyes. More Stark than even Robb, a fact that perhaps increased her ire tenfold. He was a brooder that was sure. She often related with the lost look in his eyes, the look you get when everyone is convinced that you belong somewhere but you don't truly think you do.

She sighs as she leans against the rails on the balcony above the courtyard, the clashing of steel catching her attention. Robb is sparring with the ward- what was his name? Ah yes, Theon.

'What's the matter Stark? Too tired after last night?' He is egging him on and Daenerys does not want to know how he knows what happened or if he is merely guessing.

'Don't be shy, its all the maids can talk about. Said you moved the bed a sound 6 inches, lucky man I'd be happy to move them twelv-' he is interrupted as Robb rains downs blows upon him, making him grunt with the effort to parry them.

When he falls down, defeated Robbs stands over him and says proudly, 'Laugh Theon, and listen to the gossip- but I have her under control, don't concern yourself with how I keep it that way.'

Feeling her heart in her ears ,she wants him to know she has heard him but he has already strolled inside. Gods. The words bounce around her head over and over again and she feels so damn tired. Trust and games and a never ending need to watch her back.

She edges closer to the unguarded part of the balcony. A steep drop, she could just step forward a few times and never have to guess the sincerity of anything ever again. She didn't have to want what she thought her brother would want. She closed her eyes.

'Daenerys?' the voice breaks her train of thought and she whips around to find Jon standing there, warily looking between her and the edge of the battlements. 'Perhaps you should come in my lady, its cold today.' His voice is stern, like his father's . She bites back a retort and follows him into the castle.

So that was how it was to be. Games and Intrigue, she left any hopes in the cold to die. A game of thrones, she thinks to herself. A never ending prospect.