Every house has a name, brandish words and tell-tale traits.
'Ours is the Fury' were my family's words, of course the saying had been drilled into mine and my sibling's minds many times. Septa Alys said they were supposed to fill us with pride and gratification for our great house, to remind us that any person could rise from the Hand of the King to being a King himself.
Yet the words only filled me with uneasiness. They reminded me of my Baratheon lineage and how different I was from my Lannister Mother. My Lannister Mother who cared so much for her golden cubs, excluding myself the lonely fawn.
Perhaps that was why my mother was so distant, because unlike my siblings I don't embody the perfect Lannister lady. Since my childhood Mother would wind my dark hair up into intricate braids as if she was ashamed of its colour.
It was funny how my maid, Ada, could be more of a mother to me than she ever could; Mother would look away from me in disgust and Ada would look upon me with a soft smile, Mother would talk to me in snide comments and Ada would offer meaningful advice.
From the moment I met Ada, at ten and one moons, I knew she would be a sweetheart. Yet her praise and comfort didn't stop me from praying for just one moment of Mother's attention.
"Kendra." Her boisterous voice echoed through my chamber, accompanied by a harsh and loud knocking. Not long thereafter she, escorted by the finest White Cloaks, barged their way inside my rooms.
I hardly acknowledged her arrival, let alone had time to return my journal to it's place in the floorboards. So, I quickly jumped from my seat to sit on the journal to conceal it.
"Yes Mother?"
"I have arranged for you to see Grand Maester Pycelle" She said leaving no time for pleasantries but instead getting straight to the point of the matter, "He'll be arriving soon."
"I feel perfectly fine. Why am I to see him?" I looked at her oddly, why in the Seven Kingdoms had she summoned the Keep's maester.
"Kendra," She said, finally moving from her place by the door. I eyed her carefully, watching her manoeuvre around my room to lean herself against my writing table. My body tensed as she watched me closely, the condescending look on her face was unpalatable. She raised her hand to twirl a strand of my hair between her fingers before speaking again, "you are of marriageable age and yet you have not bled. The rumours are blazing throughout the Keep"
It was whimsical to think she would come to my chambers for anything but self-gain. I might be young, but I wasn't foolish, and I knew without my moonblood I wouldn't be a desired bride. The lack thereof had the nobility doubting my ability to produce heirs.
"I'm a late bloom-"
"No Kendra, you should have bled by now." She frowned in irritation, the small lines in her forehead becoming more visible as she scowled. More words tumbled out of her mouth, but they fell on deaf ears. It was nothing I hadn't heard before; What nobleman would take a maid without a moonblood? What would the nobles think when I did not begin to increase? It was as if she thought I didn't understand the severity of my infertility, but I did, I understood quite clearly. My mother's constant reminders were enough to ensure it, let alone the lying tales of court gossip.
My moonblood had many sunrises yet to show. However, in the eyes of Cersei Lannister that didn't matter, her only aim was to ship me off and out of King's Landing.
"I don't want to see the Grand Maester, I will bleed when the gods see fit."
Mother's face scrunched up in a grimace, her frown lines bunching together into thin rolls and her eyes squinting into a seething glare. Her hand moved quickly; I barely noticed the movement until I felt a harsh sting against my cheek. I clutched my face, trying to reign in the tears that threatened to roll down my face.
"You will see the Grand Maester." Those were the last words she spoke before retiring out of my bed chambers.
No matter how much I desired to defend myself I couldn't find the will to speak, my muscles were frozen in place and retaliation was stuck in my throat. It was a vicious cycle of Mother's rudeness and manipulation that kept my words silent.
I had been the focus of court from the moment I was born. The first heir to the throne. Never mind I was just a girl; my father had always loved me. Mother wasn't so inclined. I half expected it was herself that ignited the wildfires of gossip which exploded around me. If it wasn't my lack of moonblood that caused gossipmongers to spread lies, it was the company I kept or the style of my gowns. There was always something trivial for the nobility to talk about and I wasn't the only victim, many ladies had fallen to their cruel lies and I refused to be one of them.
On shaky legs I stood from my stool and began slowly walking idly through the Red Keep's corridors. I already knew my reddening cheek would cause quite the controversy, but I lacked any care, the click of my heels and the swoosh of my skirts being the only sounds I could hear.
Stopping in front of Maester Pycelle's door I took deep breathes and bounced on the balls of my feet in order to shake my nervousness. If I was going to have this absurd inspection it would be easier to do so willingly. With that thought I grasped the doorknob, slowly turning it, before I lost my confidence or changed my mind I walked inside.
"Your Royal Highness, I've been expecting you."
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The Baratheon Girl • Oberyn Martell
Fanfiction"Sometimes I sit back and think 'how did I manage to catch a woman like you?' and then I remember your father arranged our marriage." Princess Kendra Baratheon had a privileged life. She lived in large castle, had pretty dresses and enjoyed long, ho...
