Cassana

Margaery's lips are on my neck as I stand before my mirror, her hands on the laces of my new dress, securing them. One of black and gold, true Baratheon colours.

And for the first time I open the vault which contains the most precious crown jewels, and lift the diadem I was gifted upon my birth, worn by my great grandmother, Rhaelle Targaryen.

With trembling hands I place the crown upon my head, my birthright.

She accompanies me as I walk the halls, the very picture of nobility. People bow their heads as I pass by, my feet taking my towards the throne room where they wait for me.

Beside it I find the council waiting, waiting for me.

Littlefinger and Varys exchange a look at the sight of me and it's Varys who says "It seems most fitting to me that the Kings representative should represent him now."

"This is absurd!" Pycelle scoffs. "A woman seated on the Iron Throne, have you lost your wits?"

"I agree with Lord Varys," Littlefinger says curiously enough.

"It will cause chaos!" Pycelle protests and I see that little smirk on Littlefingers face.

"Perhaps a little chaos is what we all need," Littlefinger says.

"The king said it would be her," Ned says, ending the debate then and there. "They've waited long enough."

They allow me to lead them into the throne room where the people await us, and we are announced.

"Representative of the King, Princess Cassana of House Baratheon."

The court watches with wide eyes and whispers as I enter and ascend the steps to the throne. My hand rests on the pommel of one of the many swords which forged it as I take my rightful seat on the Iron Throne and hear the gasps of the court. I can't keep the sly smile from my face as I shock the entirety of the court by ascending those stairs and taking my place on the Iron Throne.

From the small folk to the high lords and ladies, they all stare bewildered upon me, the scandal of the Seven Kingdoms.

"My lords," I address, and none dare to question me, the one whom sits upon the Iron Throne. "Shall we begin?"

After deliberation amongst the crowd, a man comes forward looking rather distressed and we listen as he tells us "They burned almost everything in the Riverlands, our fields, our granaries, our homes. They took our women and then they took them again. When they was done, they butchered them as if they was animals. They covered our children in pitch and lit them on fire."

My stomach churns and my face is stone. The thought of it horrifies me, woman raped and slaughtered. Children set alight. These people may not be my blood but they are my people. 

"I promise you that you will be given justice. I am the kings daughter and it is my duty to my people to provide protection and justice. These truly horrific acts will not go unpunished," I promise him with every intention of keeping it. "I am so very sorry for what has befallen your people."

"Brigands, most likely," Pycelle dismisses as if he'd just been told a loaf of bread was stolen.

"Quieten," I order Pycelle who gapes at me in offence. 

"They weren't thieves," the man insists "They didn't steal nothing. They even left something behind, your Grace."

"Show us," Ned orders and another man walks forward and empties a sack onto the floor. A pile of foul smelling fish. 

Ned and I immediately know the meaning of this but Littlefinger still feels it necessary to comment "Fish. The sigil of House Tully." He then whispers to Ned "Isn't that your wife's house, Tully, my Lord Hand?"

I give him a look to shut him up as Ned asks "These men, were they flying a sigil, a banner?"

"None, your hand," he awkwardly answers. "The one who was leading them, taller by a foot than any man I've ever met. Saw him cut the blacksmith, saw him take the head off a horse with a single swing of his sword."

"The Mountain," I say without any doubts, he was the one who carried out the murders on the Targaryen children and the rape of Elia Martell upon my grandfathers orders, he would not do this if it wasn't by his orders. "Ser Gregor Clegane is known to have a thirst for brutality."

"Why should Ser Gregor turn brigand?" Pycelle questions. "The man is an anointed knight."

Gods he may be a maester but he is the most ignorant bloody idiot I've ever come across and from rumours of the court the most perverted.

"It's not as if does not have a reputation across the realm for his vile acts included the rape of women and the slaughter of children, mere babes," I remark coldly to which he simply blinks at me in surprise, while the court gasps at my audacity. "Or are you unaware of what happened to the last princess and her children?"

"I've heard him called Tywin Lannister's mad dog," Littlefinger comments. "I'm sure you have as well."

"He certainly is," I agree knowing that justice must be done, however I also know where the orders to wreak havoc on the Riverlands came from. "The orders for such an attack could only come from Tywin Lannister himself."

Littlefinger whispers to Ned "Can you think of any reason the Lannisters might possibly have for being angry with your wife?"

"If the Lannisters were to order attacks on villages under the king's protection, it would be-"

"It would be almost as brazen as attacking the Hand of the King in the streets of the capital."

"It is a crime for which the punishment is death," I answer loudly for the court to hear. "I promise on behalf of the King as a Baratheon, as his daughter, that the Riverlands shall receive justice and protection from the crown. Gregor Clegane will be held accountable, for too long his crimes have gone unpunished."

"We cannot give you back your homes or restore your dead to life. But perhaps we can give you justice in the name of our king, Robert," Ned continues and he calls "Lord Beric Dondarrion."

My Fathers bannerman Beric Dondarrion steps forward. 

"Princess," he bows. "My Lord Hand."

"You shall have the command," Ned decides and orders "Assemble one hundred men and ride to Ser Gregors keep."

"As you command."

Ned looks to me almost in question and I nod knowing what must be done.

"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I charge you to bring the king's justice to the false knight Gregor Clegane and all those who shared in his crimes. I denounce him and attaint him, I strip him of all ranks and titles of all lands and holdings, and sentence him to death."

Pycelle interrupts "Princess, this is a drastic action. It would be better to wait for King Robert's return."

"King Robert is hunting and this is a matter that cannot wait," I say knowing this is my purpose, to speak for him when he is not present. "As my fathers representative on the council I can say with the kings authority that Gregor Clegane will be executed as will those who shared his crimes. He is a mad dog who must be put down. For too long his crimes have gone unpunished and I intend to change that."
The only part that frightens me about sentencing this man to death is that he is my grandfathers mad dog. An attack on him is an attack on Tywin Lannister.

Before Beric Dondarrion can leave I add "Gregor Clegane is a very dangerous man, do not hesitate to use any force necessary. He is not a knight but a mad dog, so treat him as such. Just ensure he is still alive for his public execution."

He looks pleased and nods respectfully. "As you command Princess."  

"Send a raven to Casterly Rock, inform Lord Tywin that he has been summoned to court to answer for the crimes of his bannerman," Ned tells Pycelle and my heart skips a beat in panic "He will arrive within the fortnight, or be branded an enemy of the crown and a traitor to the realm."

Sentencing a bannerman and a knight is one thing but a Lord Paramount is another. Especially Tywin Lannister. The court looks uncertain and their eyes fall to me.

"Your Grace," Littlefinger asks me "Do you support this?"

For so long Renly and I have worked to undermine Tywin, doing so in the shadows. Now is the time to make my move.

"I do," I answer, remembering why I am doing this. "Everyone who breaks the Kings laws whether they be a peasant, a knight, or even a Lord must be held accountable. While a Baratheon sits on the throne there will be justice. While I sit on the throne there will be justice. I publicly condemn the actions of Tywin Lannister and Gregor Clegane. When he is brought to the capitol he will be held accountable for not just his recent crimes but those most heinous which still cause unrest in the realm."

Ned looks at me knowing what I mean, something that I know caused him to almost abandon my father entirely. The one deed they could never truly come to terms with. For a moment I hesitate knowing that by giving this order I am more than overstepping my bounds, even Littlefinger and Varys gape at me, but Ned simply nods his head in approval.

"He will be tried for the horrific rape and murder of Elia Martell and her children, a crime which has gone unpunished and was previously pardoned by the king. In light of the recent attacks on the Riverlands this pardon has been revoked and he will be brought to justice. Gregor Clegane will be executed and Tywin Lannister will also be held accountable in the role he has had in the crimes of his bannermen."

They all bow their heads in acknowledgement, no one questioning or looking at me as if I am a child, but like a king.

I stand as the room disbands and once we are outside Varys pulls me aside.

"Princess, while I agree with bring Gregor Clegane to justice, trying him for his crimes against Elia Martell will stir up unrest in Dorne. When your father returns-"

"I will deal with my father," I say curtly. "He is not here to serve the realm, he is hunting. If he wants to condemn the orders given to protect the realm while he'd rather drink and whore his way into an early grave then so be it, but I will continue to do my duty. Dorne despises my father and is likely plotting against him, executing the Mountain for the murder of their princess may finally appease them. Since I was a child I have done my duty to the realm and if doing my duty means defying the king himself then I will do it."

The council falls silent and I clear my throat. "I shall write to Prince Doran to inform him of this myself, as I am sure it will be appreciated."

They excuse me but Ned stops me before I can leave.

"Your father would be proud of you if he saw you today," he tells me, and I'm taken by surprise. "I know he's not the man he once was, especially not after what he did to your mother. But if it means anything know he'd be proud of you."

I'm at a loss for words and nod, trying to keep my composure. "Thank you Ned."

He leaves me, no doubt to find his daughters, and I quickly depart to write the letter to Doran before news can reach him from elsewhere.

As I'm rushing through the halls I'm grabbed hard by the wrist and I'm about to throw my elbow back until I realise it's my mother. Before I can get a word out she snaps.

"Are you an idiot? Bringing your grandfather to court to answer for his bannermans crimes or be branded a traitor!"

"His crimes," I correct and she goes very quiet. "I'm not an idiot and that's why I know they were most certainly his orders. I do not give a damn who he is, he will be held accountable for this."

"Catelyn Tully has captured your uncle and is holding him captive in the Eyrie, and this is what you decide to do!"

"And what about the women who were raped and slaughtered and the children who were burned alive?" I retort but as I look into her eyes I know she truly doesn't care, they mean nothing to her. "How can you accept this?"

"They were not my children," she says heartlessly. "Not my blood."

"They are my people!" I yell, in that moment towering over her. "Catelyn hasn't harmed Tyrion but Tywin allowed children to be covered in pitch and set on fire!"

"You are not the king," she harshly reminds me. "It is time for you to step back."

"No," I firmly oppose, feeling power rushing through my veins. Kingsblood. "In fact I think that I shall do the opposite. When I was in that throne room every single person showed me the same respect they would give to anyone sitting on that throne. In the seventeen years you have been queen have you ever been able to say the same?"

The answer is no. No one truly respects her, she's never done anything to earn it. Her voice trembles slightly "Your grandfather will punish you for supporting Ned Stark."

"He has begun a war by attacking the Riverlands and for that he may be branded an enemy of the crown," I say curtly "He can't punish me, he can make threats and command armies but he is not king. I do not fear him. My father may not dare speak against him due to the debt but I will. And as for Ned Stark you will find it is quite the opposite, those were my orders, not his."

"You should follow your fathers example," she carefully advises. "Let the council handle the mundane matters and step back and realise that Tywin is the one who truly rules the realm."

"That may be true but not if he loses his head," I dare to say and she turns very, very pale. "I have no respect for a man that needs to murder innocents to make a point. I have every right to oversee his execution if he is found guilty of making those orders."

For the first time she truly looks afraid. I am not another one of Tywins puppets. I refuse to be. If my father will not do what is necessary then I will.

"The Westerlands will rebel," she warns but I simply laugh.

"He doesn't command any love, only fear. Once Tyrion is returned I'm sure he won't mind fulfilling his rightful place as Lord of Casterly Rock and keeping the peace there." Her eyes burn with pure rage. "In fact I suspect people will be grateful to be rid of Tywin and have a Lord who can command more than just fear."

She stares at me in disbelief "You are speaking of murdering your own grandfather."

"I speak of justice," I correct knowing that spilling my own blood is certainly a sin but I do not fear the gods. I know exactly what Tywin is, his slaughter of the Riverlands is only further proof. The Mountain may have committed it but Tywin ordered it knowing just how cruel his mad dog is. "And I will do what I must."

As I turn away from her she warns "Joffrey will not see it that way. When he is king he will not forgive you."

Turning to look her in the eye I tell her "I am not afraid of Joffrey. I have my father wrapped around my finger, while he is king so am I."

And with that I turn my back on her, on the Lannisters, and walk away.

~

Once I return to my chambers I write to Prince Doran, a man who could be my greatest ally in the coming war.

My Prince

For far too long there has been a silent war between our houses, one which began with my fathers rebellion and never ended. In his absence I sit on the Iron Throne and have ordered the arrest of Gregor Clegane, who has been stripped of all titles and sentenced to die. I offer Dorne the rightful opportunity to oversee his execution as you see fit, and to charge him with the rape and murder of your sister Elia and her children. I pray for peace between our houses, and with your co-operation I would like to personally act as a bridge for our houses to meet upon with the possibility of further strengthening the fragile relationship between our great houses.

Cassana Baratheon, Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and Representative of the King

I set down my quill and allow the ink to dry, reading over my words tenfold until my door opens and Margaery enters.

"You've caused quite the stir," she praises. "The scandal of the Seven Kingdoms."

"It has a nice ring to it," I say, pouring myself a glass of wine. "Either way it's worth it to see the look on Pycelles face."

She chuckles. "He was fuming the entire time."

"As will be Gregor Clegane," I say, having been stewing on that decision in particular. "That order may just be the most brazen thing I have ever done."

"It is the right decision," she assures me. "He's a beast of a man."

"Should I be feeling so numb?" I ask her, the thrill having subsided and now I am suspended in this state of numbness. "Everything is going in the right direction and yet it feels like I'm so far from it all."

"A kings dilemma," she says. "You are the king while your father is away, it is a burden."

"I've managed his burdens for months without worry, it's now the power that comes along with it that makes me uneasy," I admit to her, the consequences floating in my mind. "It's the worry for Tommen and Myrcella. My grandfather is burning and pillaging the Riverlands without fear of consequence or justice, I am making him my enemy but I don't want them to end up on the wrong side of this war."

"It is war Cassana, sacrifices must be made," she says and I can feel my control slipping. "On all sides."

"I have written to Prince Doran," I tell her, and run a hand through my hair as I lean back in my chair. "I need allies, I need a husband."

She looks at me carefully and sets her wine down. "It would be easy to have a husband you can control, a boy like Trystane, but what if you could have a husband with an ambition for justice that rivals your own?"

The rim of my goblet rests against my lips "What are you suggesting?"

"You are a woman now Cassana, you need allies who are as empassioned as you are," she says and suggests "Oberyn Martell."

I take a long drink, tasting the Dornish wine on my tongue. Oberyn Martell. A man of pure reputation. A dangerous man. One of the few men my grandfather fears. One of the few men he respects.

"Marrying Oberyn alone would be an act of war," I say, suddenly cautious and dismissing it. "Oberyn is the same age as my father and has no interest in marriage, not to mention he has more bastards than my father."

"Dorne respects the rule of women in a way the rest of the kingdoms do not, it is the only kingdom where rule is determined by birth, not sex" she tells me. "They say Oberyn has given his own daughters spears, the Sand Snakes they are called. He is a dangerous man, but do not dismiss him."

Oberyn Martell. The man who hates my grandfather more than any other alive.

A man they say is mad with the thirst for vengeance, the Red Viper. His reputation has long fascinated me, and perhaps Margaery is right. I cannot surround myself with passive allies, I need someone willing to risk everything for it, to take Tywin Lannister down.

~

Margaery sleeps in my bed as I pen my letter to Oberyn Martell.

Prince Oberyn, 

I believe you and I have a great deal in common. I have ordered the Mountain to be brought to the capital for execution. However, I would like to invite you to Dorne so he may be surrundered into your custody to be dealt with as you and your brother Prince Doran see fit. I also invite you to court to discuss a political marriage between House Baratheon of Storms End and House Martell of Dorne. For too long the Lannisters have allowed this rift between our houses to fester  for their own benefit, when we both know it is by Tywin's orders that your sister was raped and murdered, along with her children. Come to the city to hold the Mountain to justice, Baratheon men are travelling North to apprehend him, and we would welcome Dornish spears against the Lannister troops protecting him. I look forward to meeting you.

Princess Cassana.

An informal letter, yet I feel it is what he would most appreciate, he is a man who does not seem to have the patience for politics, and perhaps that is what I need most. A man with a spear.

I hear Margaery stir and return to bed, kissing her neck as she wakes. 

"Cassana?" she murmurs as I squeeze her waist.

"We need troops, we need gold," I breathe, running my thumb over her lips. "We need them now."

"Cass-" my name disappears from her lips, turning into a sigh as she finds my knee between her legs. "Oh."

"You and me, ruling over this damn snakepit," I say, playing into her fantasy's of power. "You would be my queen."

She can believe that I love her, she is to vain in her affections to doubt her influence over me, she can believe I would get on my knees for her to succumb to her seductions.

But she is the one who taught me how to play this game.

~

I look at her, and remember how Jon looked beside me. A sight I will never forget. A man who never lied to me, who never tried to manipulate me. Who only had love in his heart for me. A man of pure intentions. Who couldn't be further from the woman sleeping beside me.

She is sound asleep as I climb out of bed and pull a robe around myself. Something draws me to my wardrobe which I open, and allow my fingers to run over the fur of Jon's cloak and imagine the black one he must wear now.

I look in the mirror, tears in my eyes as I can hardly recognise myself, a ghost of the woman he loved and force a smile. Feeling my control slipping, knowing one mistep and I fall.

If I dare look back for even a moment I am lost. I have given my heart and my body to this rebellion, and my blood shall soon be spent as well.

Something draws my eyes to the window and I pale at the scene below.

My father.