✓ Trueblood || Jon Snow

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖎𝖝 ~ 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉

SHE RUSHED THROUGH THE CORRIDORS OF THE RED KEEP, glad to be wearing pants and a tunic instead of a dress. She reached the doors the same time as Joffrey, and where the two would normally glare, they only exchanged quick looks of panic before pushing open the doors.

"Father!" Yelena cried, bolting to his side. "Gods, no... what happened??"

He gave her and Joffrey a small smile. The sight of her arm comfortingly around her little brother's shoulders when the boy needed it most warmed his heart after years of detestation between them. "Went hunting, lass. Boar got me good, but..." he grinned at her. "I got it good too."

"What will happen to you?" Joffrey asked shakily.

With only a look, they both understood. "No..." Yelena whispered. "No!" she rushed forward to clutch her father's hand. "It's not fair!" her eyes stung, though she fought off the tears.

"There there, little doe." he chuckled. "I never was a good father anyway. Best thing I ever did for you was give you the Starks."

"Please don't say such things." the princess's voice wobbled. "You gave me everything. I can shoot, I can fight, I have everything... because of you."

He looked about to respond when the doors opened, and Ned Stark walked in. Robert sighed. "Go on," he told his children. "You don't want to see this."

Yelena's eyes were full of tears, but she wouldn't disappoint her father in his last hours by crying before him, so she stood with a nod, and left, gently tugging Joffrey with her. When the doors closed, they were both silent, but then Yelena did something beyond unexpected. She reached over to the boy beside her, pulling him into a tight embrace as she forced her tears away. When she pulled back, he blinked in confusion, but had no time to ask anything. By the time he opened his mouth she'd already fled back down the halls and towards her chambers.

She collapsed onto her bed, making herself steady out her breathing, the furry body next to hers a small comfort. Her father, who had been nothing but good to her, who had given her everything, was dying. He was leaving them, and what then? She took a deep breath. Joffrey. Joffrey would be king. The thought sent a shudder through her. Perhaps Yelena was the eldest with a clear right to the throne, but no one would accept her; she was both a woman and betrothed to the future Warden of the North. Or maybe one of her uncles could do it...

The princess sat up, shaking her head. She was fantasizing now. Her father's brothers had no real claim on the throne as long as Joffrey lived. She couldn't depend on make-believe ideas like this anymore. People were dying and self-serving sons were being crowned. It was time to face the reality she'd hoped was so far off. She almost wished she were already married and living in the North, just to keep out of her brother's cruel reach. Certainly, she'd done her duty as a sister, being kind to her little brother in their hour of despair, but that didn't mean she'd forgotten what he was, or how the crown would only make things worse. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around her wolf's neck, burying her face in the fur. "Oh, Lishay," she murmured. "What am I supposed to do..."

She stayed in her rooms through the day, struggling greatly against the urge to write to Jon yet again, but she knew nothing good would come of it. She'd get her hopes up only to have them smacked right back down once more, and there was only so much heartbreak she could take in a day.

Two days later, the princess stormed down the steps, four guards hot on her heels. Her mother had ordered her under protection of extra guards at all times from the second her father died. She shoved open the doors of the Queen-Mother's chambers, hot-headed and furious. "Mother!"

"Yes, my little cub?" Cersei strode calmly in from her side door, undeterred by her daughter's anger.

"Why are you attacking Lord Stark?!" she demanded.