Chapter One. Aching Fury

♛

ALLISE NEVER THOUGHT THE SUN could be cold.

She knew from the books it wasn't supposed to. Heat and fire was all that came from the sun, freshness a thing of the past when the bright ball of incandescence stayed asphyxiated in the centre of the sky all nine years of summer. Cold was a thing of the past as well, a barely remembered dream from when Allise was younger. But even then, the cold passed her by as if it had forgotten she existed. She was born in heat, and she thought she would die in it as well.

"Another musing, silly girl?" the golden-haired man to her right said stiflingly, his voice threaded with the kind of jibing amusement that made the hairs on the back of Allise's neck rise. "You'll ride yourself off the road."

Allise looked down –for the first time in a while– and noticed he was right. Her horse, a small black filly so thin she could see the poor thing's ribs from where she sat, nearly reached the edge of the hard dirt path they tread on. The other riders around her watched Allise with a mixture of confusion and contempt.

All except a few, who knew her more intimately than just an empty headed girl with the Queen's eyes.

Two rode with her. The one who had spoken, tall and strong and every bit regal, was Sir Jaime Lannister, the Queen's brother, the Kingslayer, and Allise's uncle. Today he was dressed in the armour of the Kingsguard, white and gold the same as his hair. Everyone Allise had ever spoken to thought her uncle the embodiment of perfection, but she knew it was folly. Underneath the coy and attractive smile sat something dark and bitter. Jaime Lannister should have been the shining head of House Lannister, but instead his name was tainted in the blood of the old King. Everyone knew the story, and everyone whispered about it behind his back.

Allise often wondered that it was this one mistake, this one tarnish in his otherwise unblemished person, that made Jaime as bold as he was. A shield and sword could only protect you so far, it was better to set a trap inside your heart.

(She knew this better than anyone.)

The second one who rode was as stoic as he was large, face hidden behind a gaudy metal helmet resembling a rabid dog. As much as Allise curled inward from the sight of him, astride his horse with a greatsword fastened imposingly to his side, she couldn't deny the helmet fit his name: the Hound. He was the oldest Prince's personal bodyguard, and went everywhere Allise's half-brother did. She had only ever spoken to him once, walking back to her rooms alone after supper at the Red Keep. She'd rounded the corner at a furious pace, anxious to be back in the safety of those four walls, and nearly ran into the stomach of him, catching herself and lurching back violently. The Hound did nothing but watch, half his face cloaked in marred shadows from the burn marks that ruined his skin.

She'd asked forgiveness, eyes never meeting his own. The man had grunted, a thing she found he often did when someone required an answer. But as she walked away, already dreading what comments Joffrey would make if she knew of that interaction, he'd called after her.

Good to keep your head down, he'd said, just not too often.

Allise never forgot those words, kept them tucked away and locked in a chest at the back of her mind. She viewed the Hound differently now, as if clouds had parted over grey sky to reveal a sliver of light.

She looked at him, hunched over his mare, facing straight ahead. Joffrey was somewhere ahead of them. Allise gnawed at her tongue, a habit she never seemed to notice until the sharp sting of paralysis flooded her mouth. As her mouth puckered, Allise almost dropped the reins of her horse when she saw the Hound had turned in his seat, black pools for eyes boring into her own.

She looked down to her lap, twisting the rope in her hands, skin going from speckled white to a violent red.

Jaime snapped his fingers at her, surprising Allise. He appeared perpetually incredulous, which was usual any time her uncle took a moment out of his day to spare her a glance. Allise dreaded these moments, they rarely ended well. Either her uncle would take something she said out of context and find an excuse to insult her about her less than noble birth, how Allise was constantly sullying his sweet sister's name, or had him grabbing her by the ear, whispering empty threats to her.

Allise flinched, though she hadn't meant to. Jaime noticed, keening his horse closer to her. The features they shared were even more pronounced in the pale afternoon light. High cheekbones, emerald green eyes, and pale skin, there was no doubt the two were related. Though it was tainted by Allise's coarse dark hair and square shoulders, her large nose, a reminder of her other half, the unspoken, sullied part of her.

Jaime seemed to be thinking that now, his features twisting in disgust... and something more. Something she couldn't quite place.

"What were you thinking of this time?" He asked her. Allise shook her head, stray hairs flying into her face. "Don't give me that look. What distracted you?"

Allise huffed a breath. "I was thinking of the summer." Jaime raised a brow, and Allise wished to ride ahead away from this conversation. "It doesn't seem to reach here."

"Of course it doesn't." Jaime replied, not bothering to hide his distaste. "The North has never known warmth. The cold strengthens their pride, the miserable bastards–"

"–and hardens their cocks," came a voice from behind. Jaime whirled in his seat, forcing Allise to rear her horse closer to the edge once again as her uncle faced the intruder. Allise didn't bother to look, recognising them immediately. It was the sardonic drawl of a man she spent the most time with, when he wasn't off galavanting through the brothels and avoiding all responsibilities, Tyrion Lannister and Allise Waters were cooped up in the library of the Red Keep, or the markets of King's Landing, her chattering endlessly about the books he recommended her, and him pretending to listen as the commoners stared.

The Imp and the Queen's Bastard.

At first, the whispers which followed them bothered her, and the looks her mother gave her were forever etched into Allise's mind. Jaime told her to no longer spend time with her other uncle, a warning that came with a harsh grip on both her shoulders. Allise, for all her wonderings, couldn't find what was so wrong to seek the comfort Tyrion gave her. They were both born on the wrong side of fortune, drowning in the deep instead of finding safety on the rocks with the others. Outcasts, she would call them. It was no secret that Tyrion saw himself as much a bastard as her.

The idea that someone could possibly understand, even if the experience was different, soothed her more than a lifetime alone ever could. For all the solace she found in keeping to herself, in watching instead of weighing, Allise knew she couldn't stay secluded forever. Her birthright wouldn't allow it, and neither would her mother.

Allise turned to look behind her uncle, where the Queen and her rightful children sat in a wheelhouse of gilded metal, oil slick and silver. She could already imagine the happenings inside. Her mother would be sitting with little Tommen on her lap, and Myrcella would be playing with dolls on the caravan's floor. Cersei Lannister, beautiful yet severe, would be watching her children with the kind of light only a parent could have for the ones they'd brought into this world.

Allise knew the look well, because Cersei had never once directed it towards her.

It wasn't that her mother hated Allise. She thought it would be impossible for Cersei to hate any of her children, but Allise was not anyone. She was a bastard, a baby born from defilement. Everyone knew the story. It was often murmured behind her back by the servants, or loyal bannermen, and sometimes freeriders that stayed in the court.

14 years ago, Cersei Lannister was coming back from a trip to Casterly Rock, the ancestral home of her House, when her carriage was accosted by a particularly unhappy crowd of beggars in Flea Bottom, the slums of the city. Cersei was forced from her carriage, the guards unable to protect her in the crowds, and the Queen emerged from the onslaught bloody and bruised. Months later, her belly began to swell, the truth of what really happened coming to light. Cersei's father was furious, calling for the King to mercilessly punish those responsible. Justice was handed out, leaving thirteen civilians with their heads on spikes, limbs torn from their bodies and left to rot in the street where it had happened.

The Queen's husband called for Cersei to get rid of the child as well, but for some reason Cersei refused. The stories were twisted from there, but most claimed that the Queen had actually gotten down on her knees and begged for King Robert to let her keep the child. Even more odd, the King had agreed.

Fourteen years later, Allise couldn't understand the reasoning. She couldn't comprehend why she was still alive.

"Uncle," Allise acknowledged as Tyrion wormed his way between Jaime and her. Tyrion inclined his head toward his niece, then up to his golden brother. But Jaime only scowled, meeting Allise's eyes with a warning glare, and strode off to the front of the party. The Hound was gone too, Allise realised, most likely up ahead with Joffrey as they neared closer to Winterfell.

"Ah, the North," Tyrion said with not a single drop of sincerity. "Can you believe it, dear niece?" Atop his horse, Tyrion almost reached Allise's shoulder.

Allise shook her head earnestly. "I didn't think I would be able to come." she replied softly, gazing at her surroundings with nothing but keen interest. Tyrion watched her, eyes narrowed in the kind of sympathy only he shared with her.

"Of course you would come," he said to her. "You are the Queen's Bastard," Allise pursed her lips, but one side of her mouth quirked upward. "Nobody would dream of a riding party without you."

"That isn't true." Allise corrected. Tyrion nodded his agreement.

"Don't be so peeved, then," he said, shifting in his saddle. "I hear the library in Winterfell is unlike anything we have ever seen. Certainly better than the one back home." Allise's face brightened, some colour returning to her cheeks.

"Really?" she asked, excited. Tyrion nodded, grinning.

"Let us just hope it is not as dim and dreary as the rest of the castle." Tyrion grumbled, reaching down to massage some life back into his short limbs.

Allise tucked her neck into the warmth of her cloak, eyes narrowing. She needed closeness, shadows, a place to blend in, a spot to disappear. Out here in the open fields of the North, there was only the snow and the sky, both of which Allise could do without. Now more than ever, she longed for the twisting catacombs that were the Red Keep, sandstone walls and warm tapered floors. But most of all, she missed what lay beyond the brick.

When she was ten years old, Allise had stumbled across a knot in the wall, nearly too high for her to reach. Alone and easily bored but never deterred, Allise found a way through the hidden door, and what she discovered on the other side was nothing short of a miracle. Hidden passageways, thin and tall, wound all throughout the castle. She suspected they had once been used for battle strategy, for the Kingsguard to pass through without the enemy noticing, but the age of war was over, so the channels lay forgotten collecting dust. Until her. Until the bored little bastard found her new pastime. Quickly, the hidden corridors of the Red Keep became her second home.

"Why do you think the King has brought us here?" Allise questioned out loud. Tyrion still rode beside her, but he had slowly been dipping closer to the neck of his horse. Allise didn't blame him. The constant bumps and cascades of the road made it feel like they had been going on for eternity. To Allise, they had. The journey up to Winterfell was a long and arduous one, they had been travelling for a month now. For Allise, who had never been farther than the edges of Blackwater Bay, the adventure was both a blessing and a curse. She had never seen so many odd characters and intriguing sights. They stayed only on the Kingsroad, but the sights changed every day, with new things to explore every few hours.

In the beginning, it had been exciting, but as the first week dragged on, and Allise started to realise that whilst out, there would be nowhere to hide, it turned to a nightmare. She had no choice but to be seen, not just by her mother and siblings and her uncles, but by the rest of the men who accompanied them. Allise's neck turned red whenever she caught a knight or sworn sword staring. There were times when she walked through the camp and men would grab at her arms, whisper bastard in her ear, and she would return to her bed with spit and shame on her cheeks.

Jaime found it amusing, stepping in only when the rowdiest of men soon turned to violence. Her mother stayed with the other children, often sick from the jostle of the ride, but the few moments she spent with Allise, Cersei told her to stay strong, to ignore them. Then her mother would stroke her unruly black hair and scorn her for it's coarseness. But despite that, Allise knew her mother heard her when she told of the things the men did, and 3 weeks into their journey, she started to notice the taunts began to lessen.

But they never stopped completely, especially from Joffrey.

The oldest of the siblings and heir to the Iron Throne, Allise was sure Joffrey had been born with his heart shrivelled and sour. No one sneered at Allise more than her half-brother. He would always find ways to step into her path when they were alone, make comments about their mother, about her. Joffrey would dangle his new swords close to Allise's neck, pinch her cheeks and force Allise to say things she would cry over afterwards.

This Cersei did nothing to stop.

How could she? Allise was exactly what they said she was, a bastard to one of the most powerful women in the Seven Kingdoms. The only way to make it stop was to let it happen, endure the ridicule again and again until they forgot about her, until the amusement died out. Then Allise would be able to slip into the shadows, alone and free, just as she'd always dreamed of.

Still, there was a prick in her stomach at the thought of staying invisible for the rest of her life. Allise quenched the flame before it could begin to rise, just like always.

"The Lord Eddard Stark and His Grace are old friends." Tyrion answered her question. "And with the Lord Arryn dead, the King is in need of a new Hand."

"I would have thought he'd choose Lord Tywin," Allise reflected. Allise's grandfather, an imposing man she'd met only a handful of times, was dismissive of both her and Tyrion alike. Though he had been the one to dispose of the men that had assaulted his daughter, that love never reached farther than Cersei. Yet Allise still respected the man. He had caught her in the library once, staying a couple of days in the Red Keep before travelling back to Casterly Rock. When he'd saw the large tome Allise had been pouring over for days, he nodded as if in consolidation, and just for a moment, Tywin's face softened when their eyes met. He'd said nothing else, however, and left without another glance.

That's how it always seemed to go with Allise. A glimmer of understanding of what lay beneath her title, then apprehension, then she was alone once again.

Tyrion scoffed at her comment, shaking his head. "He wouldn't, I suspect Robert hates my father as much as I do, perhaps even more." Allise frowned, not sure if that could be true.

Before they spoke any further, a whistle came from up ahead. Tyrion and Allise both craned to look over the backs of the other riders. Gold banners rose into the air, reflecting the sigil of House Baratheon, a crowned black stag on a background of gold. Allise smiled softly at the symbol. It was one of her favourite sigils of the great Houses of Westeros.

A horn blew, the sound reverberating across Allise's bones. She shared a glance with her uncle.

They had arrived at Winterfell.

♛

The King and his keepers entered in a shower of gold and silver.

Allise stood near the back of the crowd, nestled behind Jaime once again –she suspected her mother had asked him to keep an eye on her– as the rest of the procession entered the gates of Winterfell. Tyrion had disappeared the moment they entered, leaving Allise alone to try and blend in. While her uncle was dressed in his finest armour in the colours of House Lannister, Allise was dressed plainly, in a pale purple gown cut from the style of the South, with a woollen undercoat that reached to her neck, keeping out the chill of the day. She wore a dark brown cloak over her shoulders, clasped in gold, the only decadent piece she owned. It wasn't the best gown she had, but the night before they left, Cersei had come to her, telling Allise all of her better clothes stay at King's Landing.

"You are a bastard, Allise," her mother said, stroking her daughter's cheek. "Better to keep plain and unseemly, whilst on our journey." Allise had wanted to tell her mother that the Starks of Winterfell had their own bastard, and rumour had it Lord Eddard Stark treated Jon Snow the exact same as his purebred sons. Allise didn't think Winterfell would care about her as much as they did anyone else.

She hadn't said this out loud, nodding and letting her mother help with her wardrobe. It didn't happen often, so Allise allowed herself to relish in the attention.

That warmth Cersei had shown her all but disappeared as she and Allise's half-siblings climbed out of the wheelhouse and into the front courtyard of Winterfell. The Northern castle was cast in dull greys and greens, the sky crisp above their heads, concealing the sun. The ground was compacted mud, soaking into Allise's shoes. She looked around her, taking in the ashen stone that made up the castle, then to the people, their faces seemingly etched from marble, it made Allise wonder if their hearts were sculpted from the stuff as well.

Joffrey certainly seemed to think so, standing a couple feet away from her. Allise frowned at him, at his bored expression and lackadaisical stance. The Hound was rigid beside the Prince. Jaime's sword hit Allise's stomach from inside its scabbard as he removed his golden helmet, hair falling to his shoulders in bright waves. Allise reached for her gut, grimacing, as an ache started to blossom.

The crowd hushed as the King, wide in girth with broad shoulders and a stern expression, hopped down from his horse, needing the help of a stool. He was clothed in the House Baratheon colours, but his crown was noticeably absent. Everyone went silent, even Joffrey, as Robert stalked towards the line of Starks awaiting them. Allise looked at each of them one by one, taking in the sight of the noble family from the North.

The tallest of them was a man late in his thirties, with a soft face worn from wear and eyes dull but kind. This could have only been Lord Eddard, the head of his house, and King Robert's old friend. Immediately, Allise had nothing but respect for the man, knowing of the many battles he'd served in, and the loyalty he'd shown the crown all these years.

Next came the Lady Catelyn, with a puckered face that held a softness behind it, and dull red hair nearly to her waist swept back. She was beautiful, in her own way, with a judgemental sort of radiance Allise had only ever seen from her mother. Perhaps her family and the Starks weren't so different after all. Eddard and Catelyn's children were distinctive from the stories she'd heard. Robb was the eldest, and certainly the handsomest, older than Allise by a couple years and already looking like the perfect soldier. Sansa Stark shared her mother's bright red hair, with none of the severity. Arya Stark was the smallest and clearly the most enthused by their arrival, eyes alight with interest and a boyish grin raking over all the newcomers. Brandon Stark was the middle child, several years younger than Allise, taking in the proceedings with quiet interest. Rickon was the youngest, little more than a toddler, who didn't seem to know what was going on.

But Allise wasn't really looking for any of them. She had one Northerner in mind as her gaze wandered over the Maesters and other Stark men. The other bastard: Jon Snow.

Allise found him standing behind his Lord father. They looked similar, but not in the way the rest of the Starks did. Jon had curling black hair and clean face, but where the Starks seemed alive in their home, Jon's eyes were blank and dark. As if he knew exactly what he was. Allise watched him, keeping her own features passive.

If he could sense her staring, Jon Snow did not turn to look, but his jaw clenched, tugging on his cloak, and Allise knew he could sense her.

After many years trying to keep to the sides at the Red Keep, Allise had come to determine something; there was a deadness inside all bastards. A rotting corpse lay festering inside their hearts. Where bastards should have been made whole, as normal as any other, a part of them had died the moment they were born. And from there, bastards went through life trying to make up for the missing pieces of them, though no matter how hard they tried, there was no getting back the things they had lost.

She saw this now in Jon Snow. She had seen it in herself years ago.

King Robert approached Lord Eddard with all the dignity of a noble. Allise bit down at the sight of Robert's frosty stare, so unlike the King back home, when all he did was drink and laugh and blast out obscenities. Here he seemed almost like what he was supposed to be, which unnerved Allise to no end.

Lord Eddard appeared the same.

The King stopped in front of the lord, continuing to frown, and surveyed his old friend slowly, painfully so. Eddard inclined his head in greeting. "Your Grace." Robert chewed on his bottom lip, cheeks going a pale red. Allise swallowed, the action seeming too loud for the occasion.

Then, Robert said. "You've got fat."

Silence. Eddard appeared to be the only one unfazed by his King's words. The rest of the courtyard had gone deathly still. The Northerner made a gesture with his head Allise couldn't see from where she stood, but the King howled with laughter, enough to shake the tension out of the shoulders of everyone there.

He wrapped Lord Eddard in a bone-crushing hug that made Allise wince. "Ned!" the King's voice boomed through the yard. "It is good to see that frozen face of yours." he turned to Lady Catelyn. "Cat!" and embraced her as well. The King sighed, his voice going lower. Eddard and him spoke with the looks of long lost brothers.

Jaime smoothed out his hair and clasped a hand to Allise's elbow. "There, you see the boy? The other bastard?" Allise sucked in her cheek, rubbing the skin raw. "They say bastard sons are born with only half the virtue of true men." Her uncle chuckled at his own joke, scrutinizing Allise, as if expecting her to find his comment amusing.

She did not, inclining her head closer to Jaime's and whispering, "I heard that the men of the North are twice as honourable as men from the South." she said all this in a flat, listless tone. "Which makes that bastard as virtuous as you."

Her uncle could say and do nothing in response, not in the presence of the King, Cersei, and the rest of them. But Allise could feel the anger radiating off him in waves. She allowed herself the smallest grin. Next to Jaime, the Hound had been watching the exchange, and turned to face ahead when he caught Allise's eye.

The proceedings went on, with Allise's mother being introduced to the Starks, and the rest of the children greeting one another. When they were done, Robert demanded to pay his respects to the dead. Her mother argued profusely.

"We have been riding for a month, my love," she said, "Surely the dead can wait." Robert didn't seem to hear his wife, gesturing to Eddard and walking away without another word. Cersei was left alone in front of the entire North. Jaime muttered a curse under his breath and stalked forward, pulling his sister away from the others as Cersei glared after her husband. The courtyard seemed to deflate the moment Robert disappeared, Lady Stark turning to the guards, calling out orders. Around Allise, the free riders and swords stalked away, no doubt attempting to find some sort of accommodations for the night. Jaime and Cersei walked towards her. Allise made to take a step back, but the crowds were too thick.

"Where is our brother?" Cersei demanded of Jaime, stopping to Allise's right, beside Joffrey and the Hound. "Go and find him." Jaime pursed his lips, but said nothing else and strode off with the others.

Allise glanced around at the chaos their courtyard had become. The handmaidens scurried off to prepare the rooms for the royal children, knights were attempting to roll the wheelhouse out of the gate, and the rest were deep in conversation, taking in the sights of Winterfell. Allise looked over to where the Stark children had been, but they had dispersed to gods knew where, including Jon Snow.

"Allise," her mother's words always seemed to slip at the end of her name, as if she wasn't sure whether to speak it out loud or stay silent. Allise turned to her mother. Joffrey sneered beside her.

Allise thought he looked like a misshapen toad.

"Your Grace." she said, hands wrung together. Cersei cast her a downwards glance, then turned to her son, gesturing for him to go with the others. Joffrey scoffed, indignant, but one hard look from his mother and the steady hand of the Hound on his shoulder, Joffrey had no choice but to obey.

The moment her half-brother was out of earshot, Cersei turned back to Allise. "You will behave yourself on this journey."

Allise nodded, sullen. "Of course, mother," Cersei nodded, half a smile perking her lips.

"Don't forget to enjoy yourself, either," her mother told her. "As best you can in this frozen place."

"I like it," Allise said quietly. "It's different."

Cersei's brows creased. They obviously did not share the same sentiment for Winterfell. "Indeed." Allise smiled.

"Are you all right, mother?" she asked. Cersei turned away, wearing that constant look of antipathy she always seemed to don whenever uncertain. The Queen was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt, but something harsh lay in Cersei's features, a kind of intensity that had failed to reach Allise.

She wondered if her mother was always angry, or if the irritation had started the moment Allise was born.

"Of course–" Allise craned her neck. For a moment, it sounded as if her mother was about to say dear, or love, the kind of sentiment she used for Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen. But Cersei stopped herself before she could speak any further, moving on.

"Go and find your rooms, Allise." she said.

Then Allise's mother left for her other children.

Just as it had always been, Allise Waters was left alone. She stood in place, twisting her hands together, and turned in the spot. Winterfell was different from King's Landing and the Red Keep. There were not so many walls or tunnels, not as many places to hide. Out in the open, Allise began to itch under her clothes, even though the crisp air turned her cheeks pink and the tip of her nose numb. The wind blew in her face, and somewhere up above, a crow called into the light.

Allise looked up and wondered how the sun could be so cold.

♛ AUTHOR'S NOTE

i. here it is!! the first chapter of turn the tide. while the fandom for this fic might be lower than some of the others, this book is the one i currently have the most inspiration for, so get ready for more frequent updates (fingers crossed).

ii. anyways, what did you guys think of this chapter? i know it was a little info-dumpy and i apologise, but there had to be a lot of things established, especially with allise and the rest of her family. tyrion and her are such cool judgy besties i love them, and cersei genuinely does love allise but can't really show it. i know in some fics where the oc is either jaime's kid or the true baratheon heir cersei hates them, but in both the books and the show cersei does everything for her kids?? so yeah cersei loves allise, i don't care. and finally, jaime, who is both the best and the worst. i promise his relationship with allise gets better but since he's an asshole in the first book i had to follow canon, sorry!!

iii. thank you so much for reading, i love you guys <3