So this is really pretty different for me, I know. It's completely fantasy and is really just more of... I dunno, dreams I've been having lately. Let me know what you think.

The pale woman knelt over her daughter’s bassinet and stroked the soft, blonde crown of her head, cooing gently to her, “Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them,”

The baby gurgled and waved her fat fists, catching her necklace on her thumb and jerking it off her neck with a tiny ‘Pop!’ She smiled at her, wrapping the chain around her fist and tying it off gently, letting her hand slip against her cheek lightly once more before rising and moving to the window.’

The baby was sighing softly and the woman began to hum to herself a gentle lullaby.

“Rest, little head on my shoulder, so; A sleepy kiss is the only fare, drifting away from the world we go,” her voice was soft and light; her pale blue eyes were pinned on the delicate bassinet soaking in the floating rays of sunshine. “Baby and I in the rocking chair, see where the firelogs—“

There was a loud rumbling and the room began to shake. Shouts echoed up the stairs and the woman raced to the bassinet, clutching her wailing daughter to her chest. The men burst in, swords at the ready, their foreheads glistening with sweat.

“Please,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything… please.”

The baby’s cries grew louder and one of the men stepped forward to take her in his bloodied arms. The rest swarmed around the woman and guided her out. She looked back one last time, lips parted and tears shining.

“My love…” she whispered longingly.

They dragged her out to the lawn and laid her down in the grass. The biggest man pulled a long sword from his belt and surveyed the edge in the half-light. He glanced towards the eastern window of the castle, catching the king’s eye and his subtle nod. He raised his arms up, wriggling his fingers on the sword’s hilt. There was a glimmer of a rainbow as the metal glinted in the setting sun. A quick flash, a short whimper and then silence.

The man set the sword point-down in the grass, leaning on it heavily as he looked at the body sprawled on the ground. The group turned at the sound of crunching footsteps behind them. The man and the baby were there, looking at the bloody scene before them.

“How goes it, Rodrik?” the man holding the girl said as he approached.

“Died without a fight, Alastair,” the executioner, Rodrik commented. “Look at this, Your Highness. That’s your mama, innit? You’re all alone, now.”