284 AC
King's Landing

Cersei Lannister

All she could feel was an agonising pain, her entire body was shaking violently and all Cersei Lannister wanted was for her child to enter the world and for the never ending storm to end. The thunder roared in her ears as the winds picked up and shook the Red Keep, she let her eyes flutter close as lightning clashed with the thunderous sky and it lit up her chambers briefly before the room was once again encased in darkness once more. The candle light that once lit her chambers had ceased, despite her handmaidens frantically relighting the candles. The storm ran across the skies of King's Landing and it felt as if the Warrior himself was attacking them. The rain that was unleashed from the heavens battered heavily against the buildings and ground as the storm lay waste to King's Landing, uncaring for the people below. It was as if the storm was massacring the world but even then her screams could still be heard above all the noise as she pushed once, her knees knocking together.

Cersei's pained screams filled her chambers and the entire Keep, she gripped onto her twin's hand tightly, wishing for the murderous pain to cease. She had laboured for six hours, shortly going into labour when the storm began to ravage King's Landing and she took this as a sign of pride. My son will be a warrior, Cersei thought with smugness as she looked over to Jaime with a pleased smirk. A king. A warrior. Just like his father. She felt one of her many handmaidens press a cool cloth onto her wet forehead and stroked her sweat covered face with the cool cloth, causing her to lean her scorching skin into the coolness of the rag.

Her muscles tightened and with a final excruciating push, she could finally feel the child shift and emerge from the safety of her womb. Her handmaidens and Grand Maester Pycelle were crowded around her but she found herself uncaring for them as they gasped and jostled each other like a flock of frightened hens that tried to think of the birth of her first born son as a joyous occasion. Cersei knew that they were merely frightened of the storm that roared and if she had enough breath in her body, she would have dragged her eyes and scoffed loudly at the pathetic women.

I am not frightened nor will I ever be, Cersei thinks stubbornly to herself as she grits her teeth and pushes. But you are, are you not? She also thinks to herself and stills her shoving and pushing upon thinking back to her blonde haired, green eyed mother. All smiles were lost that at Casterly Rock when her mother died and she was not one for dying. Cersei would not die. Your mother died during childbirth to that little Imp. What if that babe tears you apart from the inside?

"You are doing so well," Jaime encouraged and she eyed him with narrowed green eyes that mirrored her own as he squeezed her hand in reassurance. All her fears of death faded away then when she looked in her brother's fierce eyes that reminded her of her own, of their mothers. "Push, Cersei. Just one more push. It will all be over soon enough, I promise. I can see the babe."

Cersei instinctively followed his command and screamed out her agony, her back rose high from the bed and with the little strength she had left, finally pushed the babe from her body. She let out soft pants of relief, collapsing back onto the bed with a soft bounce and closed her eyes, letting her limbs relax and weaken from the effort. Another roar of thunder sounded throughout the chambers before the storm went quiet. Her brows furrowed softly and her eyes opened weakly when the sounds of the storm turned into the cries of a babe. Her babe.

She knew then that her child would be fiercer, fiercer than all of the rest and would climb higher than them too. Her babe would be better than the bastards that Robert, no doubt has crawling about King's Landing covered in shit and piss. My babe. Cersei shakily propped herself up with all her strength, despite Jaime's protests and she eyed Grand Maester Pycelle as he held her squirming babe. She eyed the old man with anger, her green eyes ablaze. He is mine, she thought as he passed the babe to a midwife and a low growl escaped her throat in frustration.

That is my little lion cub, not yours. He's mine. Not Robert's. He is mine and Jaime's. And he will be King.

"Many congrats, Your Grace-" Grand Maester Pycelle said as the midwife placed the babe in her shaking arms, smiling fondly as she did so. "It is a girl. A Princess."

A girl? Cersei thought, surprise etching onto her exhausted features as she looked down at the gurgling babe as the midwives and handmaidens were ushered out by Maester Pycelle. All her breath left her as she stared down at her child, her daughter. The entire world around her faded as the door to the chambers closed quietly behind Maester Pycelle. It left her alone with her twin brother and their child. This was all she wanted. A smile still spread across her features as she stared down at her child, she did not care for the gender of her child but rather the fact she had a child. My little lioness, Cersei thinks to herself. Despite the exhaustion and the pain she felt between her throbbing legs and back, she reached for the silk black cloth that partly covered the babe's face in desperation to see her child fully.

A child for Jaime and me. A little girl. A true bloodied Lannister, like me.

However as she pulled back the red and black cloth that covered her small bundle, her heart lurched and stuck in her throat. Cersei felt as if everything was at a standstill as she looked on in both disdain and devastation, a fury settling in her stomach. She looked on at her babe and took in the small ringlets of black hair and the dark green eyes that her daughter possessed, her words became caught in her throat as she shook her head in denial. This is not Jaime's child! Cersei shook her head again and her eyes narrowed into slits once more as she looked at the green eyed babe.

This is not my little cub, this…this is a fawn!

Cersei did not understand how this came to be, she was so careful. She had made sure that every morning after that fat oaf had lain with her, that she drank the moon tea and then make love to Jaime afterwards to rid herself of his foul stench. Cersei was certain then that the God's had given her a cruel jest for her sins, for loving her brother and she shook her head once more, this time, weaker as she stared on in shock and utter loathing.

I cannot raise this child...I can't.

The bitter anger subsided when the babe gave her a toothless smile of some sort or was it a yawn, she was uncertain but whatever look the tired babe had given her was with complete adoration that made her hardened eyes soften if only by a fraction. No one, not even Jaime, has given me such a look. Cersei hesitantly brought the babe up to her breast and allowed her daughter to latch on, albeit painfully when her daughter started to suck, her small hands grasping at her breast softly while she fed. Cersei sat further up in the bedding, shock still having its hold on her. She slowly turned to look at Jaime, who held disappointment in his eyes and held a solemn look on his face before he stood and turned to leave. Both of them could barely hide their disappointment, they had talked about the babe, their babe for moon cycles. They had started to talk about it since discovering that she was with child.

"Jaime...I-I'm sorry," Cersei choked, cursing herself as she did so but she could not contain the shock and devastation she held.

"Cersei, there is nothing to be sorry for..." Jaime trailed off stiffly before he looked on at the babe with furrowed brows, his jaw clenched before his face softened slightly. "She is a beautiful babe, Cersei. She has our mother's eyes."

The storm had died down as Jaime left her alone in the darkness with nothing but her first born babe and bitterness. The storm was filled with life once more and her babe let out cries in time with the roaring of the thunder. Cersei's eyes trailed down to the babe and she raised a blonde eyebrow gently, cradling her child as she waited for the moment her fat, drunken oaf of a husband would appear at the doorway with a pelt from his hunt. He gave her a pelt and in turn, she gave him an heir. A child. This spurred her hatred for him even further, he was not present for the birth of his first child and her spite at him grew. Although she knew it was looked down upon to be in the chambers of a birthing woman, it did not stop her brother. Nor should it stop him. A King. She looked into the eyes that matched her own and all she could do was smile triumphantly.

This is my child, Cersei thought as her daughter started to scream in time with the thunder. She is no mere stag, grazing the fields. She is a lion of the storm.

"Hush. It's alright, my sweet," Cersei whispered as she looked on at her babe. "The storm is yours and yours alone."

A storm befitting the birth of a Baratheon, Cersei had thought as she looked at the daylight seeping into her chambers and listened intently to the soft snores of her babe along with the gentle birdsong outside of her window, telling her that the storm was truly over. It had been an hour or so since the birth of her babe and she had refused to leave the safety of her bed and the warmth of her chambers merely to greet Robert. She was a Queen. She did not follow commands, she ordered them.

Cersei was also slowly finding herself becoming paranoid, frightened with every hitch of her babe's breath. She did not care for the mindless noise besides that of her daughter and eventually blocked out the noise created by her servants, sitting simply in silence, staring down at her daughter. Cersei was still unable to comprehend how she had managed to conceive and birth a daughter to Robert but even with all the rage and hate she held for the pig, himself, she could not think like that towards her own blood. Her daughter.

Even if her father is Robert, even if she is not a true Lannister like I desired. I will love her. I will be a mother to her. She has my mother's eyes, Cersei thinks to herself and tilted her head slightly and looked on at her girl, who was squirming in her hold. I cannot believe she comes from the seed of that drunken fool. No matter. I shall raise her to be a lion. She will not become a replica of his own vain self. Nor will I let him force her to become that damned she-wolf, Lyanna. Cersei will never let that happen, she would not let her own daughter become a whore to some Northern savage and she immediately began to plot.

Her peace of mind was destroyed when she heard heavy boots clattering against the marble floor of the hallway; she did not need to strain her ears to hear Robert's boisterous and irritating no doubt drunken laughter, that made her grit her teeth and clench her jaw. A look of disdain was etched onto her features as she neared closer. Robert had returned from his hunt and she wished with all her might that he had died in the storm, never to return and would leave her and her daughter in peace.

She had envisioned his death many a time but more so now that she had a daughter, who was easily impressionable. After his death, Cersei would take her daughter back to Casterly Rock where they would live out the rest of their days. We do not need the bastard, Cersei seethes to herself. She looked up just as the door swung open, banging against the wall. She saw her servants bow low in respect to Robert as he appeared at her chambers and approached her with his youngest brother, Renly at his side.

Cersei slipped from beneath the furs and stood, letting her nightgown that was bundled up to her waist fall back down to her ankles. She stood in pride as everything fell silent, she defied him by looking him straight in the eye and held her head high. Cersei had every right to do so as she clutched her daughter close to her bosom. He strode towards her, throwing the large and damp deer pelt on a nearby chair. His red and purple face from no doubt drink and running was etched into a grimace and the gut he was steadily developing over the muscle he once had, was slowly becoming great as it wobbled and moved with him. Though the look of disdain he held solely for her and her 'Lannister cunt' relatives faded after he saw her child.

His face changed from the set grimace and disdain he always held for her, to a different man. And she knew why. In her arms, in her arms was something that he could love fully, a babe that looked just like he did when he was born, when his brothers were born with the Baratheon storm blown, dark hair but she inwardly smirked, hoping that he would be disappointed once he saw her daughter's eyes. Cersei knew exactly what he was thinking then and she quirked an eyebrow softly towards him. Robert had tears gather in the corners of his blue and bloodshot eyes but he pushed them away harshly before they could be seen by the servants and his own brother but she caught it. The look in his eyes.

It was the first time since their coupling that he looked at her with something akin to kindness. It was the same look when they joined hands at their wedding, a sign that they could have been happy once. If he didn't take her like a whore and call her Lyanna. There was not any affection for her held in his look, that she was certain of but it was a look of gratitude that she had borne him a child. An heir. She undid the cloak adorned with a Baratheon stag and unveiled his daughter to them.

"Look at her, Robert!" Renly gasped in delight and she sneered towards the man before looking down at her daughter. "A daughter, brother. A little Lyanna to call your own. I told you, you'd make it back to the little storm in time. I heard her cries from the tower and what a battle cry it was, that cry will frighten off a few suitors. You will have your hands full with her, Robert. I can tell."

How dare he! Cersei thought, looking on in offence at the stags she was cornered by and at that moment, she wished that Jaime was by her side, sneering at them. It took all her might and willpower not to lunge at the younger Baratheon and claw at his face. She held her daughter closer to her chest from that comment and felt she had won a silent battle when her babe began to suckle on her teat once more. She stared into Robert's eyes in both defiance and anger, daring him to agree with Renly. My daughter is no bitch, Cersei tells herself. She is a lioness. Her daughter will be a lion, although she may have a different mane to her golden one that meant nothing to her now. Her daughter bore the eyes of her mother and she thought on it with a fondness, she never thought she would meet someone with the same shade her mother had. Although she knew Robert had the final say on her daughter's naming, she hoped with her heavy heart that he would give her this. Just once.

"Joanna," Cersei said distantly as she focused solely on her daughter. "Her name will be Joanna."

"Never," Robert denied before turning and eyeing Renly. "Nor will she be Lyanna. I will live with no more ghosts than I already do. I shall name her Boudicca and I will make a warrior out of her, yet."

"Boudicca-" Renly proclaimed as she looked on vaguely at the stags and held her little lioness closer to her. "of the House Baratheon, First of Her Name. Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and Bringer of Storms."

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion Lannister knew all his life, from watching and listening from the shadows that there was something strange, to say the least about his older siblings, Jaime and Cersei Lannister. As a child, he would linger in the shadows and in the corners of the hallways to watch them, to observe his older siblings from afar like he did the prized birds that his Aunt Genna had brought with her and he could have watched them for hours. He even used to document how they would interact and that is when he came to find it interesting watching his siblings interact.

To most, Jaime and Cersei were behaving like any set of near identical twins. They murdered quietly to each other, leaning into whisper in the other's ear or they would laugh huskily at a joke shared between them that no one besides them knew the true meaning of. He didn't find anything odd about how they were acting. They acted like normal children growing into adulthood. They behaved like any other brother and sister.

Until one day, he noticed that Jaime and Cersei were holding hands.

A passerby may brush it off and a servant wouldn't dare question them, besides to most there was nothing wrong with holding your sibling's and relatives hand. In fact, he witnessed many siblings sharing the same closeness of hand holding. It displayed a sign that they were bonded, that they depended on each other and that they were protective of the other. Though, the way his siblings held hands, he knew from a young age it was not the normal sort.

Jaime and Cersei held hands, fingers entwined and caressing one another like a lover would stroke his wife's cheek. It was not normal, even as a child he considered it strange but something deep within Tyrion was telling him never to breathe a word of this to their father, Lord Tywin Lannister. And to this day, he still never speaks of it. Tyrion would most likely lose his head for it and to be honest, he rather liked living than dying.

He never spoke a word of it to their Lord father but he never spoke a word to his siblings either, he never confronted them about it. As a mere child, he did not have the knowledge back then to know that what they were doing was not just a game to them…that what they were doing was real. Their feelings were real and they certainly weren't of the familial sort. His golden haired and chiselled siblings lived in their own world and he did not want to disturb the balance of it, he feared the consequences of what would happen to others if he did so.

Tyrion has witnessed many summers and many winters, as he grew older and wiser he learnt one of the many advantages to being a dwarf. Although the cons mostly outweighed the pros, he liked this particular advantage most of all. All those that laid their eyes on him, did not take him seriously and often ridiculed him when his back was turned. After all, they wouldn't dare insult a Lannister to their face. They often ignored him, ignorantly unaware that he was their enemy.

My sister is one those people.

Tyrion knew that Cersei considered him less than her but he must congratulate her in a way for seeing him as a potential enemy as well, not that he would ever harm her. He could tell by the way her vicious green eyes landed on him every time he appeared in her sights. Tyrion knew that his spurned sister despised him, she blamed him for their mother's death and the reason that their rigid father smiled no longer. His older sister makes her feelings about him known at every chance she got, except little does she know he possesses dangerous information about her and his brother.

It was on his ten and fifth name day that he caught them.

In the privacy of Jaime's chambers, through a mere crack in the keyhole. It was Jaime's fatal mistake, taking the key out as he caught them. Tyrion caught his brother and sister lying in a passionate embrace on his brother's bed, kissing each other with a fierceness. He should have interrupted them then, burst into their chambers and warned them of the price they would pay should they continue, part of him to this day wished that he did, that nothing good would come of their relationship.

Tyrion did not and he knows that he will regret that decision until the end of his days.

After the union between his older sister, Cersei and the newly crowned King Robert Baratheon, the relationship between his brother and sister was growing even more dangerous. His long, blonde haired sister with a feline face still snuck to Jaime's chambers in the dead of night. His brother and sister were not subtle, in fact, he wondered how many people knew about their throes of passion but alas, King Robert was a fool who would rather chase whores from Petyr Baelish' brothel and drink and eat his fill.

Tyrion was indeed an honourable man, many people would laugh straight in his face if he ever admitted it. He honoured both his family and justice. There were bad people in this world, it wasn't a world that people could write songs about. It was a cruel world, an awful one and if he could outsmart those bad people, that made life worth living. He felt as if he was making the world a better place. A small step at a time. Yet, he remained conflicted by his older siblings especially when he caught them for the third and final time.

It was behind the horses' stables and to think they could not sink any lower, they could. Tyrion had witnessed his siblings engage in lovemaking. He quickly left as quickly as he saw it, his entire being disgusting and that was the day he started to drink more wine. In fact, he probably couldn't live without it now. He needed it more than most anyway after what he saw. Tyrion knew that Jaime loved his sister; mind, heart, body and soul. Their sister unleashed this cruelty in Jaime, she made him a man who would kill for her without a second thought and he did not like it. Jaime has become Cersei's puppet.

She pulls the strings. She holds the cards. She holds the goblet as Jaime pours the wine.

His older brother would do anything for their sister but could the same be said for her?

Tyrion sucked in a sharp breath as he opened the door slowly to Cersei's chambers, wanting to see his newborn niece or nephew, Robert having drunkenly announced he now had an heir. He was supposed to feel happy yet…all he felt was pure dread. His mismatched eyes flickered briefly to Jaime who was sitting at the edge of the bed before he turned his attention back to Cersei, particularly the babe wrapped in red Lannister silk in Cersei's arms. A strange emotion that he couldn't quite decipher crept up on him as he stared at the innocent child.

"What is it that you want, Imp?" Cersei asked evenly, though he could tell she was seething which would have made him smirk had it not been for the sake of preventing an argument. Tyrion took note of the seemingly peaceful and sleeping child, he was envious of the child but yet pitied them, their sleep as a babe would probably be the best sleep they would ever get before they had to grow up and endure them. "Get out."

"I believe a congrats is in order, sister," Tyrion responded, ignoring the insults thrown at him as he approached. His eyes never left her own. "I wished to see my new niece or nephew…may I?"

"You already have-" Cersei retorts sharply and grits her teeth, visibly shaking from anger. "Now, leave."

"Cersei," Jaime sighed causing her to stare at him.

Tyrion shifted on his feet uncomfortably due to the silence that he was met with. Jaime and Cersei were staring intensely at each other and at one point he wondered if Cersei would reach over and slap Jaime in the face for daring to disobey her, he appeared to be in her arm length. After a long period of silence that he thought was beginning to settle between them, Cersei eyed him and spoke up once more.

"Her name is Boudicca," Cersei informs him. "Boudicca Baratheon."

Tyrion took this as an invitation, welcomed or not to make his way over. He reached the other side of his sister's bed and stood in front of her, tilting his head to the side as Cersei propped the babe in her arms further to her chest and his eyes fluttered closed in utter relief when he saw his niece. He thanked the Gods then that the child had dark hair.

A true Baratheon, Tyrion thinks to himself. He reopens his eyes and stared at the babe in curiosity and in wonder. Tyrion had seen babies before, just never up close. He frightened them apparently and had a hidden hope that he didn't frighten this one. Cersei would skin him alive if Boudicca started crying at the mere sight of him. He knew that this child was not Jaime's, that was for certain. This child was Robert's. And this was his niece.

"May I?" Tyrion asks, his voice lower than before as he eyes the babe in his sister's arms.

It takes his older sister a few moments of eyeing him in both disdain and weariness before trailing her eyes over her daughter's face before looking up to Jaime. After staring at Jaime for a few moments, seemingly in deep confliction and disgust, she slowly and reluctantly passed the babe over to him. Tyrion leant over and took the babe from her arms with care. He held the babe gently in his arms and stared down at the girl At Boudicca. He tests the name silently on his tongue before a smile gradually makes its way onto his face as he rocked the babe gently as the green eyes stared up at him. Their eyes both shared curiosity.

"I hope you never forget who you are," Tyrion mutters as he rocks his niece with a gentleness. "The rest of the world will never forget you. Or your name. I hope you wear it like armour like I do. It will never be used to hurt you if you do. Although, I doubt your mother or father would ever let anyone hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you either. Perhaps…perhaps it is you that will be our last chance to build a better world?"

Authors Note: Hey guys, hopefully, you like the first few chapters of 'The Warrior Queen' and I would like to thank all of you for reading. I had originally posted the rest of my Game of Thrones stories on Quotev but decided to post them on here as well. Although I posted it on Quotev, I have changed a lot of things around and added newer things and pov's into chapters. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will happily answer them.

Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. All the credit goes to George R.R Martin! Along with the writers of Game of Thrones, David Benioff and D.B Weiss. The only profit I take from this story is the enjoyment of writing it, I do not own any of the characters other than Boudicca Baratheon and some minor oc's. I also don't own the amazing cover image.