Two months passed since the wedding of Joffrey Baratheon and Elowen Stark, two month since Ned Stark found out that the Crown was severely in debt, a month since the crown asked the Lannister's for money for the Hand's Tourney.

Two months in which Elowen Stark had not yet gotten with child, and while her family was happy that she had yet to become with child, the King was annoyed, and had been berating his son.

Although now that the third month started, the eleventh month of the year, Elowen could feel a change within herself, a change that she did not yet feel ready to share with anyone, not even her husband. Her twin sister, however, began to share this feeling of change, and approached her because of it, breaking the silence that had surrounded the two.

Sansa found her sister in the Gardens of the Keep, watching over Princess Myrcella as she weaved a crown of daisies.

"Sister." Sansa called, her voice weak and trembling, the hatred that she felt for her sister hadn't left her completely but it had lessened tremendously. It usually returned when Sansa saw the Crown Prince with her sister, holding her hand and always glued to her side, a look of possessivess on his features as he spoke to her or with other people around her.

Elowen lifted her head and covered her eyes from the sun, turning her face towards her sister. Despite being sore, from her rough encounters with her husband, Elowen stood with ease and approached her sister. "Sansa." Elowen greeted, watching as her twin sister dropped down slightly for a curtsy.

Yet another reminder of their new and different statuses.

"I wish to speak with you, if you are free." Sansa spoke, with a gentle tone that she'd last used before the Royal Family intruded on their lives. A gentle tone that Elowen had longed to hear once more, so she nodded and motioned to the stone bench near both of them, which allowed the two to still be able to see Myrcella.

"How may I help you sister?" Elowen questioned carefully, clutching the crown of daisies carefully.

Sansa looked at her sister, she could see gently bruises, in her opinion, peaking from her sister's cleavage, tracing up her collarbone, which Elowen always tried to hide, the fact that her sister's lips were swollen and her eyes shun. While Sansa might be innocent, she wasn't too oblivious, she knew of the marital act, though not what it entailed, and considering her sister was married, Sansa knew that she was doing so.

Sansa had wondered since the wedding how long it would take for Elowen to conceive an heir for the Throne, she wondered if they would wait until Elowen was no longer ten and three years of age, but as of late she felt as if, despite the marital consumation act, her sister was different.

Slowly, the youngest of the twins reached forward, making her twin wince in anticipation, something that Sansa couldn't fault her for, considering how they parted way at Ruby Ford. But instead of slapping her sister, Sansa pushed a bit of hair out of Elowen's face.

There was a shine to her sister that Sansa remembered seeing on their mother when she was with child after the twins were born, a shine that made Elowen's skin glow golden in the sun and her eyes almost sparkle like sapphires. Gently Sansa's eyes lowered to her sister's abdomen, before returning to her eyes.

"You have yet to bleed this moon." Sansa stated, having never stopped taking notice of when her sister bled, a part of her wishing that she would start bleeding at the same time, wanting to share yet another thing with her sister. "And you bleed a week earlier last moon."

Elowen watched her twin curiously.

"Are you with child?" Sansa asked in a low yet curious tone. 

The question made Elowen frown and place a hand over her flat stomach, she hadn't considered the possibility of being with child already, not since the previous month she bleed a week earlier despite that she and her Lord Husband were trying to conceive an heir.

"I don't know." Elowen whispered, confusion flooding her face and her eyes furrowing as conflicting emotions began to course through her. "I feel strange, as of late my mouth tastes of blood, and I find comfort in being surrounded by flowers rather than food." the confession was whispered, almost as if Elowen did not want to utter it.

As the eldest of the twins raised her head to meet the other's eyes, she whispered in a haughting tone "I'm scared."

Sansa knew little of the true world, like her sisters did, and while she wanted to stay angry at her sister, Elowen's confession of fear prevented her from being able to do so. They were twins after all and they needed to be together now more than ever. Sansa took her sister's hands into her own, causing the crown of daisies to slip onto the ground as Sansa clutched Elowen's hands tightly.

"I may not be mother, but I will be with you every step of the way." Sansa said, forcing her voice to sound strong rather than the usual delicate tone she often spoke in.

Elowen nodded slowly, feeling happy that her sister was returning to her, even if it was just for a pregnancy, but her fears got the best of her as tears began to well in her eyes, forcing her to cast her head down to her lap and let go of one of Sansa's hands to wipe them away before Myrcella decided to look back at her good sister.

"What if-" Elowen mumbled, afraid to speak, afraid to curse herself. Sansa seemed to understand what her older sister was going to say, because, despite all the anger that she still bore within her, Sansa cleaned Elowen's cheeks of the stray tears with her free hand and whispered.

"Nothing will happen, you will produce a healthy babe."

Sansa's words were soothing, calming and reassuring, exactly what Elowen had been needing to hear, even if neither girl was certain that she was with child.

"We should ask the Maester to check you, and we should also inform father." Sansa said softly, moving her blue eyes from her sister to the oblivious Princess who was dancing among the flowers.

"No!" Elowen nearly shouted, fear palpable in her tone, causing her twin to frown as she returned her eyes to her. "Not the Maester, Septa Melarie. Joffrey does not trust the Maester and I feel inclined to not trust him either."

Despite the stinging feeling that Sansa felt when her sister mentioned the Prince, Sansa nodded slightly, knowing that if the Prince didn't trust the Maester there had to be a reason for him do act like that.

"Then we check with Septa Melarie." Sansa affirmed, making Elowen nod. The fear that had been on her face vanishing and longing replacing it.

Myrcella approached the sisters not long after they'd come to an agreement, a bright and oblivious smile on her lips as she handed a handful of daisies and roses to her good sister and Sansa.

It had taken Elowen a few days to gather the courage to approach Septa Melarie in the morrow, after her husband had been summoned by his uncle for more training, a conversation after which the Septa confirmed that Elowen was indeed with child, about a moon along but she couldn't be certain.

This news both frightened Elowen and excited her as she was able to perform her wifely duties. Sansa had also been filled with glee from the moment her sister summoned her for a private audience and told her, which had prompted her to hug her twin tightly and thank the gods.

But despite knowing that she was with child, Elowen didn't want her Septa, or her sister, to tell anyone the news, she wanted to savour the news on her own before telling people.

The day of the Tournament was fast approaching however, and despite having kept it a secret, Elowen had started to be plagued by bouts of morning sickness, that would torment her morrow and night, which in turn led her husband to have suspicions of his own.

On the eve of the Tourney, the married couple laid in bed together, Elowen surprisingly not resting on her husband's shoulder, instead laying on her side of the bed, when Joffrey questioned out of the blue, "Are you with child?"

His tone made him sound innocent and young, like the boy that he was, aged ten and four, his long hair was loose and ruffled, his eyes held worry and hope, never leaving the side of his wife's face.

Elowen took her time to reply, but when she did she nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on the ceiling of their room. She was scared, just as her husband was, and the other could feel it, they knew that they were young, younger than most but ever so slightly older than some.

Elowen was by no means the only Princess, Consort or by blood, to become with child at the tender age of ten and three but she was the first Stark to be so.

"How far along?" Joffrey whispered, he knew that it was  his duty to have heirs, to continue his family line, that was the reason why he'd spent almost every night since his wedding, and with the exception of the time his wife bled, claiming her body as his, not that his wife didn't also leave her own marks on his body.

"The Septa claimed about a moon and a couple of days." Elowen whispered, playing with the linnen on their bed. 

Joffrey exhaled, both in relief that his wife was not checked by Grand Maester Pycelle, and at how far along she was.

"I don't want to tell anyone yet." Elowen added, turning her head to her husband, in that moment, in the dark room that was only illuminated by the moon spilling into their room, both of them looked their age, they looked innocent and scared, like children who let go of their mother's skirts for the first time.

Before Joffrey could question his wife's reasons, she told him "I'm afraid I'll lose it, my age... our ages are still young, I fear for it, for childbirth. I want to cherish every second I can without having everyone worry and fret, without being attended to by people who will only care for it."

Joffrey watched as his wife's eyes filled with tears, he couldn't begin to understand the true and honest fear that Elowen was feeling, and despite his passion for all things bloody and depraved, in that moment Joffrey felt as if he needed to be gentle.

"Everything will be fine." he whispered, reaching over with his right arm, and pulling her to him, closing the distance that she'd placed between them, "We'll be fine, the babe will be fine." he told her, pressing his lips against her temple and holding her against his body.

Despite the curious wonder if his wife's stomach had swollen and his natural curiousity for the fact of how a babe grew within its mother, Joffrey refrained from touching his wife's stomach.

"We'll keep it a secret for as long as we can. Just you, me, the babe and Septa Melarie." Joffrey agreed, feeling his wife relax in his arms.

Since they'd gotten married, Joffrey had been enjoying the joys of being a married man, joys that weren't always sexual, he enjoyed the sensation and the ability of arriving at his shared chambers and being able to lay on his wife's lap and tell her about all the morbid things he'd seen and done that day, without seeing disgust and nausea cross her face as she messed with his hair. He enjoyed the fact that he could pull his wife into any corner of the room and kiss her until they were both panting.

He'd even began to tolerate the company of his wife's beast, whenever he joined her on her visits.

"I hope it's a boy..." Elowen whispered against her husband's shoulder, she knew it was her duty to have sons, more than daughters, so she wished that it would be a son. It would not only prove her fertility but it would also prevent any problems from arising.

Joffrey froze momentarily, he actually hadn't thought of the potential gender of the child, he knew that he should want heir, and while he did want a son to continue his family line, he wondered if a having a boy would make his wife happy.

For sons were for the Throne, no matter how many, and daughters were for their mothers.