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Wayfarer — Multiverse

I DONT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT MY OC(S) Genderbent?! Female MC?! Another story to read in the midst of boredom?! Well, welcome to yet another story. One about a young bastard, trying to find their place in the world amongst a war for a throne that had brought both some of the darkest of times, and some of the most prosperous of times to Westeros. With not a lick of royal blood, and no ambition for the Iron Throne where will this story lead…?

White_Dog · TV
Not enough ratings
29 Chs

Unnamed Prince

"I SWEAR TO THE GODS—" Helena stifled her screaming curses, as she felt as if she was being torn in half. The Midwife continued to tell her to breathe, and Helena had to stop herself from grabbing the annoying woman by the throat simply to vent her pained frustrations… For nearly three days, Helena had been breathing, pushing, screaming, breathing, pushing—

A final push; the hundredth in the last day, brought with it a cry, one that caused Helena's mind to screech to a halt, and her heart to pound in her chest, as a Midwife spoke, "It's a boy!"

"Let me see him!" Helena tried to sit up, but exhaustion rattled her mind as the woman at her side stopped her… As the woman who carried her child began to wash her child, Helena shook off the hand that attempted to hold her down as the woman began to wrap Helena's child in a bundle and headed towards the door— Helena snapped, as that hand pressed her to the bed once more.

A snap, followed by a scream as the Midwife's hand was twisted at a grotesque angle, Helena's staggered steps… The blood trailing down her thighs, the dirty gown clinging to her sweat soaked frame with her wrathful expression cluttered with damp hair when paired with the wet staggered footfalls could very well have been pulled straight from a nightmare, as Helena forced herself into a sprint grabbing to woman who had attempt to TAKE HER CHILD—

Helena didn't hesitate, and the wooden needle which held the majority of her hair out of her face plunged into the whore's neck causing her to sputter out blood in fear, drenching Helena's child in the blood of a lower being—

"Halt—WHAT?!" A Kingsguard who had been stationed at the end of the hall; that led to the sole room at this end, who had approached hearing the commotion saw blood and his sword flew from his sheath, only to find the Queen gently cradling a bundle of blood soaked cloth, one of the Midwives choking on her own blood whilst clutching her neck with despair in her eyes. Helena didn't even send the woman a glance as the Queen's expression softened and a gentle coo left her lips… The babe's cry came to a silence, as a small hand clutched at the Queen's finger…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Robert sighed as he watched his Queen sleep, a baby held close to her chest as she lounged in a chair… She had killed the Midwife due to a misunderstanding, as the child was to be brought to him to be named…

Yet, even after the misunderstanding had been cleared, Helena vehemently refused to have the child named, and Robert wasn't going to push to find out if the nightmare he had all those moons ago was a prophetic vision.

"The child was born far too early…"

"Theobald…" Robert whispered, not intent on waking the woman who had been a single breath away from trying to kill a Kingsguard with his child in her hands. 

"He shouldn't be this developed—"

"Theobald…" Robert quietly hissed, as Theobald didn't even attempt to lower his voice. 

The old maester frowned, casting a glance at Robert who seemed intent on interrupting him as of recently, "The babe needs to be checked… He should have been born a moon later, who's to say what illness may lay in his body."

"If you believe she wouldn't kill you. Go ahead an attempt to take the babe from her hands," Robert whispered and Theobald made no movement.

"I was hoping you would—"

"Nope," Robert quickly shot that down, by no means was he going to anger this woman. Who had quite literally held him by the balls at one point… It didn't help that her teeth were sharp, and she would most definitely use them given the chance… He'd rather take his chances in a brawl with the woman, than in bed with Helena when she's angered…

"They'll both need to eat soon—"

"Theobald…"

"What…? It is the truth, I'm surprised the babe has yet to cry or soil himself—"

"Theobald—" Robert's whispered chiding, and Theobald momentarily fell silent as Helena's eyes opened, a deep frown settling across her face only for it to melt away as the young babe squirmed…

Though, her voice found their ears with little more than a whisper, "Leave."

The two didn't linger, and left momentarily revealing the Kingsguard who stood outside of the door. Slowly, Helena sat up in hopes of not rousing the child awake, eventually she settled the babe into her thighs before a sigh tore through her throat. Her expression softened with warm affection as Helena watched her child… HER child…

What was she to do…? It will take moons before HER babe is grown enough to survive a long travel, especially on the long roads and dense woods… A breath slipped past her lips, one that was meant to calm Helena only brought further awareness to her thoughts.

She was too weak. Yet, Helena will stagnate solely due to having to care for HER babe… Helena quickly cooed, not that it was his fault. How could HER handsome little boy ever do wrong…?

Helena's smile grew toothy as she continued to watch her babe… Who cared what the Kingdom's thought of her?! This child was the best damned thing under everything the light touches, and if he wishes to rule it all.

Well, Helena will just have to make it happen…

Logical reasoning was gone, all that was left was the unstoppable force that was Helena's love for her little handsome boy…

Then, her little boy opened his mouth, and unleashed a cry that wrenched Helena's heart, with a smooth intent sweep Helena lifted the child from her thighs and pulled her dress from her shoulder. Revealing her pert, slightly swollen breast, the child soon fell silent as he filled himself with milk…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[2 Weeks Later]

"…67…68…69…70…" Helena, partially laid on the floor bent—rolled forward onto her feet before she leapt into the air, cushioning her fall with a practiced bend of her knees upon impact, Helena dropped forward falling into her hand before quickly pumping out five push—ups, "…71…" 

Bringing her knees to her chest, Helena rolled onto her back before starting the cycle once again. Only to come to a halt halfway through, as a gentle knock resounded through the room. With a soft low whistle, the door slowly opened to reveal Theobald carrying a large tray with a bowl of gruel and a loaf of bread. 

Using a loose length of cloth, Helena patted herself dry casting a warm glance towards the fortress of bedspreads, pillows, blankets, and cushions she had built for HER handsome little boy. Finding that he was still slumbering, Helena sent the maester a warning glare as she took the foot he had brought…

Theobald didn't leave, and decided that he'd steal a look at Helena's handsome boy, and the Queen lingered silently threatening the maester with her presence should he think himself worthy of cuddling with HER child…

None were worthy… Only Robert held an exception, for HER child wouldn't have come into being without his participation… Even then, her handsome little boy was HERS.

With her thoughts rampaging through her mind, Helena ate her nutrient thick gruel and downed her bread, washing it all down with a thrice boiled water. The room was quite the mess, as Helena didn't trust a single maid to enter, and while it couldn't be compared to a pigsty, it wasn't the cleanliness of a room expected of the Red Keep.

As she finished her food, Helena moved and lifted her baby into her arms, dropping a shoulder of her dress, she brought the child to her breast… and even while asleep the baby found the nipple and began to fill his stomach.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[1 Year Later | 3rd Moon | 283 A.C]

Helena adjusted the parasol overhead as she allowed her child to settle into her lap, as Helena made sure that not a hint of direct sunlight assaulted her child's delicate skin, which had been coated in a thin solution that both herself and Theobald had worked on to lessen the effects of the sun… 

As the Queen looked over the tourney grounds, the child in her lap watched on in childish amazement as the Contest of Archery began below. Two woolen mugs protected his sensitive ears from the roaring of the crowd, and the boisterous King at her side. 

It wasn't the first tourney hosted by the King, and it was far from the last on Robert's road to regain the prestige and perceived legitimacy he had lost when he had married a Lowborn Bastard; Helena. The majority of the Lannisters have yet to pull from the castle, and Cersei continues to try and seduce Robert. With Lord Tywin gone, her actions have become far more bold than they had any right to be…

Yet, Robert avoided them as if they were the plague, having seemingly adopted the idea of celibacy since Helena was more interested in spoiling her still unnamed child than spreading her legs for the King. Whatever had him so faithful, Helena knew naught. She had half—expected the man to visit brothels and have whores brought to the Red Keep veiled as maids, or simply pull the maids into warming his bed…

It wasn't as if he didn't already have bastards running around, and it wasn't as if Helena cared whether or not other women warmed his bed as long as HER child wasn't informed of such things—

Nope, Helena cast that thought aside, knowing that on some level, by some measurement she would be angered… No anger was much too strong of a word…

Helena hummed, causing the child in her lap to wiggle into her bosom as the deep humming resonated through his body. Lifting a bowl of crushed fruit, powdered nuts, and roasted bulbs Helena set it infront of HER child allowing him to pick through it as he pleased. He seemed to find the strawberries the most pleasant to his palette, but seemed to favor the wild roasted onion bulbs…

He seemed to vehemently dislike the vast majority of the fruit that had been delivered from the Reach, and liked the coconut meat brought from beaches of Dorne, though from all of it the Northern blueberries, and crowberries seemed to have taken the crown for HER child's favorite snacks, followed by the juiced cranberries from the Neck. 

Perhaps she'll head North, and pay a visit to the Silent Wolf when she finally leaves this godforsaken castle… At least she wouldn't have to worry about HER child disliking the available foragable food…

Helena's thoughts continued to drift along this particular line of thought, when suddenly her mind fell silent and her eyes snapped upward… Catching Theobald's hand as he attempted to hand HER child—

"Bah! Damned ungrateful apprentice! It's just a toy!"

Helena frowned as she took the whittled wooden horse, and rubbed her thumb across its surface finding it smooth— Her eyes narrowed as she watched the maester, her voice low and sharp, "Theobald, if I have to warn you once more, I'll spend the next decade finding the monks you so fear, and infrom them that you have broken your vows—"

"You wouldn't—" Helena's eyes narrowed further, and Theobald's grumbled while Pycelle who stood off to the side watched the interaction with a glimmer in his eyes. Unaware that Helena would surely kill him if he even attempted what Theobald had done… 

Helena dipped the wooden horse into a large pot of boiling water, the heat of the water itself seeming having no effect upon her skin, before swiftly drying the figurine and handing it to HER child, and watching as he threw it to the ground. A small smile immediately bloomed on her face, and Theobald grumbled once more, a smile hidden beneath his grumbling words.

As for the child, he let out a ravenous giggle that broke out into full blown laughter, only to be halted by a sharp cough and Helena's whole body tensed as HER child coughed up a small seed…

Helena's frown deepened to levels barely capable of humanity as she took the bowl, and meticulously began to pick out every final thing she assumed HER child may choke upon… Intent on having a few words with Theobald's when today's allotment of the Tourney had come to a close, as he had been the one to prepare a bowl of crushed fruit… If he couldn't even pick the seeds from the strawberries what right does he have to even lay his eyes upon HER child…?!

(A/N: [21?? Words] Another short, and terribly delayed chapter… Sorry, not sorry… A whole lot of stories that I follow had updated at once, and paired with the fact that I'm currently moving across state lines has wholly distracted me from this work…

No Status, and another Time Skip incoming, it should be the last major timeskip until we get into the beginning 'Canon'.

Anyways, until next time,

White_Dog

)