Trueblood || Jon Snow ✓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 ~ 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗

IT WAS ONLY THE VERY NEXT DAY, and Yelena changed into a simple but beautiful dress, strapping on her dagger and slipping a few small knives in her boots and sleeves. She pulled her hair back into a beautiful southern updo before going to fetch Sansa from her rooms. When the door opened, the Princess - now Lady Stark's protector - offered her arm, which she gladly took, and the girls made for the throne room together.

When they arrived, Joffrey caught sight of them right away, shooting Sansa a smile and his sister a glare. Yelena only rolled her eyes as the proceedings continued. She took interest only when her mother declared Ser Bariston no longer of service for the King's Guard. The furious man spat vicious words as he unstrapped his white cloak, letting it fall to the floor before storming out. At one point swords were drawn, and Sansa clutched Yelena's arm tighter, but she only squeezed the girl's shoulder reassuringly. Nothing would come of it, though Ser Bariston had every right to feel offended as he did.

Finally it was all adjourned. "If any man in this hall has other matters to set before His Grace, let him speak now or go forth and hold his silence."

Yelena tensed when Sansa spoke. "Your Grace,"

Joffrey beckoned her forward with a wave. "Come forward, my lady."

As Sansa stepped forward, so did Yelena. "Lady Sansa of House Stark, and her sworn protector Princess Yelena of House Baratheon," the man intoned.

"Do you have some business with the king and the council, Sansa?" Cersei asked, smiling sweetly.

"I do." her voice wobbled, but held resolve. She knelt, making Yelena frown. "As it please Your Grace, I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark who was Hand of the King."

"Treason is a noxious weed!" snapped the High Maester. "It should be torn out, root-"

"Let her speak." Joffrey interrupted, clearly annoyed. "I want to hear what she says." Yelena's heart pounded. She'd vowed to take any punishment from Sansa, but she wondered how cruel he would be, even if only to get revenge on his big sister, of whom he was so jealous.

"Thank you, Your Grace." Sansa said, her soft voice carrying through the domed room.

"Do you deny your father's crime?" Lord Baelish asked.

She shook her head, clearly afraid. "No, my lords. I know he must be punished. All I ask is mercy. I know my lord father must regret what he did. He was King Robert's friend and he loved him. You all know he loved him." she gulped, taking a breath. "He never wanted to be Hand until the king asked him. They must have lied to him - Lord Renley, o-or Lord Stannis, or somebody. They must have lied!" The last words were a desperate cry, and Yelena felt terribly sorry for her. She knew now how it felt to lose a father.

Joffrey gave a small, irritated sigh. "He said I wasn't the king." Yelena bit on her tongue hard to keep from saying something stupid. "Why did he say that?"

Sansa seemed lost for words, so this time, stepping forward, Yelena did speak. She held back every venomous jab she wanted to use against her little brother and imagined she were speaking to a king she respected. She imagined Eddard Stark on the throne when she spoke, and her voice came calm and even. "He was badly injured." she told him. "Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy. He wasn't himself, or he would never have said such a thing." she looked back to see Sansa giving her a grateful look.

"Treason is treason!" Pycelle insisted angrily.

"Anything else?" Joffrey asked, seeming bored.

Yelena stepped back to let Sansa speak again. "If you still have any affection in your heart for me, please do me this kindness, Your Grace." She sounded close to tears, and the princess badly wanted to wrap the girl in a hug, to cut down these awful old mules, to take the throne for herself and order Lord Stark pardoned, Arya found and brought home, to call off this sweet girl's betrothal to this awful boy. But they were only dreams.