What could have been - Part 3 - Ned x Robert x Reader

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(Y/n) had been watching the Master of Coin intently all evening. She knew the whoremonger of old and wouldn't trust the man an inch, so why she had told Baelish her plans she wasn't too sure. Of all people in the world to divulge a secret to, the mockingbird should be the last one you would tell. But there was something about watching Baelish sweat, that gave the thief a sick thrill. She knew more than anyone alive what he got up to. Knew more about how wide his reach was, than Petyr would like. She knew that the only reason he hadn't sent someone to try and kill her was that she was still useful to him, and that was how she intended to keep it. But tonight, was for her. Tonight, would prove to anyone that may not already believe it, that she was a force to be reckoned with.

Quietly she rose to her feet, making her way to the door as the whoremonger seemed to be distracted with other business. It was dark enough outside for her now to make her way up to the Keep. Dark enough for her to make her ascent up the walls. She had managed to acquire a layout of the great castle. She knew the best way in, and the best way out. She knew the location of Jaime Lannisters rooms. Knew where the Oathkeeper was kept. Now all she had to do was put all that knowledge into practice.

She had been in Kings Landing for some time, hiding, watching silently in the Red Keep as the bannermen had gone about their routines. (Y/n) had timed their changes to the second. Knew that there was a short period of time that certain areas of the castle were left unprotected. Knew that particular bannermen were not as observant as others. And as she silently made her way through the dark, damp streets of the capital, she just hoped that all of her effort would give her what she wanted.

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The air in Robert's rooms had fallen silent once again. It had been strangely difficult for either of the old friends to look at one another as they had sat there. Each one blaming themselves for the others lose. This had been the first time in so long that the two men had spent this day together. Through the years, Ned had tried to erase the memory of (Y/n) with his love for Catelyn and his children. While Robert had done it with wine and whores. But despite everything, (Y/n) was as stubborn in death as she had been in life. The memories of the beauteous doe refusing to ever truly leave the king of the Iron Throne, and his Hand.

"I should go." Ned suddenly said with a heavy sigh as he rose to his feet.

"You have given me a lot of work to do. I need a clear head for the morning." Ned continued with a sad smile, as Robert rose to join him. The stag giving the portrait of his sister one last look, before both men left the room.

"Well, someone has to keep you out of trouble. I don't want any of the pretty ladies around here catching your eye. Catelyn would never forgive me." Robert chuckled, as he slapped his friend on the back. The pair looking at one another as they stood in the long, empty corridor.

"Next year, we celebrate this day. (Y/n) would have hated the idea of us just sitting there and drowning in our sorrows. She would have wanted us to remember the life she had. The life she loved, not her death." Robert told Ned. Ned nodding in agreement, knowing full well that (Y/n) had always been at the centre of any festivities that were thrown while they were growing up. That she had had a lust for life that was infectious. An ability to find magic in the smallest of things. And saw death as having a beauty all of its own.

Suddenly a noise from back in Robert's chambers, made both men turn on their heels. The pair looking at one another as another nose rang out. Ned gripping at the hilt of his sword as he and Robert made their way back into the rooms.

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(Y/n) jumped silently down from the window and into the room. The climb up the exterior of the Keep had taken a little longer than the thief had planned, but that just meant that the likelihood that the inhabitants of the castle would be at rest would be greater. The darkness of the night, making the interior a better place in which she could hide. (Y/n) had maneuvered her way around to the rooms of the king. The expert crook knowing that the bloated sack of wine and ale, that jokingly called himself a monarch, would either be passed out, or too busy with one of his many whores to notice anything.

The room was warm compared to the outside world, and was lit only by a dying fire and a few candles which had been burning for so long that their wax had dripped onto the wooden floor beneath them. (Y/n) had no intention of staying long. For her, this was just a means of entry so that she could find her true target. But try as she may, something made her look around. Whether it was the fact that she was in the rooms of the King and could possibly find something of interest that she could sell to the highest bidder later, or something else, she didn't know. But as (Y/n) moved around the furniture, scanning for anything that could be of worth, her eyes suddenly fell on the large portrait that hung above the fire. The breath hitching in her throat as she stared at what could have been a mirror.

(Y/n) moved. The normally silent wraith not even noticing that she had dumped into a table and knocked off a glass. The vessel smashing loudly on the floor as she moved to stand before the portrait. She had no idea what was going on. No idea why Robert Baratheon would, or could, have a painting of her in his rooms. Slowly she reached up her hand. The tips of her fingers feeling every brush stroke, every dried daub of paint on the canvas. The portrait was beautiful, and if (Y/n) hadn't known better, she would have sworn that she had sat for it herself.

Quickly, she grabbed one of the candles. Moving it so that she could use its flickering light to see the small name plate that sat proudly in the bottom of the frame. Her eyes growing wide as she saw the name 'Lady (Y/n) Baratheon.' Stumbling backwards, (Y/n) knocked into one of the chairs. Her heart beating so violently in her chest, her blood singing so loudly in her ears that she failed to hear the two older men that had just pushed their way back into the room.

"Who are you? Reveal yourself." Robert demanded angrily, as he and Ned stared at the dark figure that stood motionless in front of the fire, as it seemed to be staring up at the portrait of his sister.

Cautiously, Ned moved forward, his sword drawn as he made his way over to the person that seemed to be rooted to the spot. It was hard to believe that anyone would dare enter the Red Keep. It was hard to believe that anyone could have got in without alerting anyone, and Ned couldn't help but be intrigued about what he would find under the cowl.

Ned staggered, almost falling over himself as he moved backwards. The features of their unwanted visitor revealed as he removed the hood and spun the person around. He and Robert staring in disbelief at a woman that looked almost identical to the portrait. Both men finding that they could only say one thing.

"(Y/n)!"   

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