The Doe and the Wolf- Jon Snow

Winter is Coming

A piece of cheese. That was all that it took for Sannah Baratheon to snap. Her younger brother, Joffrey, had been testing her all day, and his flinging cheese at her at the dinner table was the last straw. 

She got up, slapped him across the face, and stomped to her chambers. She didn't care that her mother and father were calling after her to come back. The royal family rode for Winterfell the next morning, so Sannah had to finish packing anyway.

The hand of the king, Jon Arryn, was dead. His wife, Lysa, fled and took her only child, a young boy, with her. The reason they were going to Winterfell was so Robert could ask his lifelong friend, Ned Stark, to be his new hand. 

Five minutes later, her mother, Cersei, came into the bedroom. Sannah hated her mother, and she knew her mother hated her. Cersei didn't have to say a word for her daughter to know it either. 

"You have two minutes to get up and properly apologize to your brother."

She ignored Cersei. 

"Sannah Baratheon, I'll not repeat myself!"

Sannah turned her head and glared at her mother, "He's a spoiled little cunt, and you let him behave like that. How about you make him apologize to me for once?"

Cersei was about to say something before Sannah cut her off, "But then again, he's always been your favorite. Why ever hold him accountable?"

Cersei knew her daughter was right, but she had too much pride to admit it. As Sannah brushed her long dark brown hair, she looked at her mother.

"Has father ever asked you about it?"

"Asked me about what?" Cersei said.

"Why I'm his only child that has his hair."

Cersei, with a stunned look, avoided the question, "Get to bed soon. We ride for Winterfell early tomorrow."

Sannah wasn't stupid, and she wasn't blind. She saw the way her mother and her uncle Jaime interacted, and as Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen got older, they all looked more and more like Jaime, while Sannah looked more and more like Robert. Even when she was born, she looked exactly like him.

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A few hours later, Sannah was awoken by someone at her door. She was scared at first but calmed down when she realized it was just Tommen. He'd done this before, but it still gave her quite a fright. 

"Sannah, I had a nightmare," he sniffled, "I dreamt that there was blood all over the halls of the red keep, and you and Mother and Myrcella and, and-

The princess sighed and made room in her bed, "Alright. Come here."

The little boy scooted next to her, shaking and crying.

"It's just a dream. It's not real," Sannah said, hugging her little brother and playing with his blonde hair, something that always calmed him down.

"I know," Tommen said, "You're the only person I can go to. Mother and Father tell me I'm acting like a baby, and Joffrey taunts me."

"I know, sweetheart. Joffrey's horrible," she said, "It's ok. Cry to me all you want. You're eight. You're allowed to."

As much as Sannah hated her mother and Joffrey, and resented her father because he cared more about drinking and fucking whores than his children, she loved Tommen and Myrcella more than anything. She'd defend them with her life. Some would say she was a better mother to them than Cersei, and her uncle, Tyrion, was a better father than Robert or Jaime combined.