Chapter 10

In order to distract himself, Caspian had taken to his sword training with a vengeance. He had always been good with it and he had had far more time to practice that his brother had as being the crown prince kept Joffrey "far too busy."

It was more like he was just lazy in Caspian's opinion. He would practice in the tilt yard with Ser Cortnay, while his half-brother Edric watched and clapped excitedly. The little boy was extremely energetic though Caspian would have expected nothing less from someone who was only a few name days old.

Edric had already expressed to his older brother that he wished to be a knight when he was older. He knew that the king was his father though Caspian knew that he didn't fully understand what the word bastard meant.

The thought made the second prince sad.

He'll grow up in a world that will ridicule him and he'll have to work three times as hard in order to earn respect. He'll become used to the fact that he won't matter to people and they won't care what happens to him.

Oddly enough he was reminded of Jon Snow, lord Stark's bastard that he had met at Winterfell what seemed like a lifetime ago. He was a quiet individual who preferred to talk using the metal he wielded rather than words.

A simple man.

They had got on well because Caspian had treated him respect which was something that had galled Joffrey. That idiot refuses to even consider any potential allies. The world's his playground and the people in it are his toys.

Caspian wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned at his little brother who was looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Did you like watching Ned?" he asked using his brother's nickname. The little boy nodded, eyes bright with excitement. "Do you think I could do that someday Caspian?"

"I don't see why not," Caspian said smiling as he put the sword back. "Do you still want to be a knight?"

Edric nodded eagerly.

"Good, then you need to start practising. Come here."

The four year old got to his feet and hurried to stand in front of his brother his excitement practically oozing off of him.

"Before you pick up a sword you need to know how to stand," Caspian said adjusting Edric's position. "Never stand with your feet together, they must always be apart so if you need to move forward or back the movement is fluid and don't waste a second. Because in a fight that could mean the difference between living and dying. Isn't that right Ser Cortnay?"

"Yes your grace," the older man nodded. "You must also not keep your arms too close to your body as it could restrict your movement and your range of motion."

Caspian watched as the castellan picked up a wooden practice sword and handed it to his brother, showing him how to hold it.

He gave a brief smile as he watched the two of them spar. He know knew why he mother was afraid of him being around Edric the last time they were in Storm's End. She was afraid people would see the similarities between them and start to wonder why on earth the rest of the royal children didn't look the same.

If it was just Caspian she could claim he simply took after his father and have that be the end of it. But if Caspian and his bastard half siblings were together and spent too much time in each other's presence it was easy to see that all of Robert's children looked alike and Joffrey and Myrcella and Tommen were the only ones who were blonde of hair and green of eye.

Everyone would see that they were pure Lannister with not a drop of Baratheon blood in them. The game would be up then and even Robert wouldn't have been able to deny it. He would have strangled Cersei with his bare hands and then killed Tommen and Myrcella and Joffrey before anyone would have been able to stop him.

It wouldn't have mattered if such actions had started a war, Robert Baratheon was notorious for not listening to anyone or anything when he was stuck on an idea or on the war path about something.

The only ones who Caspian had been able to figure out that his late father would listen to were Jon Arryn and Eddard Stark.

As he watched his little brother hesitantly sparring with Ser Cortnay he considered the letter he had received from Lord Stark himself only one day ago. He was very glad that they had arrived in Winterfell safely as they had escaped the capital by the skin of their teeth.

His uncle Renly was still amassing support in the Storm Lands although Caspian had heard he was in talks with the Tyrells and so he believed that the primary cause with which he had come here to pursue was lost.

Now he was being pronounced King in his uncle's name by the Stormlands as well as the North. If Renly married Lady Margaery that would ensure Tyrell support as well as the south. Only the East and Dorne would be undecided and given the long standing hatred between the Martells and the Lannisters an alliance between the two houses was as likely as dragons returning to Westeros.

All he had to do was wait for his uncle to send for him and he would be riding at the head of thousands of men who believed he was the rightful heir to the throne and would declare for him. Although Caspian felt his blood sing when he thought about it, he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous.

He had only just passed his fifteenth name day. Was he really ready to be a king much less lead people into war?

The only indicator that Caspian had that this was the right decision was the sword of the Durrandons he had found in the tombs within the caves down on the shoreline. He could say honestly that finding the great sword was not a coincidence given the timing. He had taken to sparring with the sword at night when no one else was around and though it was still heavy, it had begun to feel right in his hands as he moved it from hand to hand. As if it was made for his build, maybe older him.

He was nowhere near as good as he was with his original sword which was much lighter but upon looking at the sword of his ancestors, Caspian began to feel almost king like, like he was ready for this and that the sword of the Durrandons was proof of this.

In the meantime he was still waiting for the letter from his uncle telling him to come and meet him as well as a reply to the letter he had sent to his Uncle Tyrion asking about the wellbeing of Myrcella and Tommen.|

He honestly felt as if he were on pins and needles, but for now he could only do the one possible thing.

And wait.

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Tyrion was glad he had gotten into the habit of bolting the door to his rooms in the Tower of the Hand whenever he retired there. Cersei had a habit of barging in whenever she felt like it to "check up on him." But a blind man would know that it was only her unoriginal and painfully obvious way of spying on him to make sure he wasn't doing anything that she didn't like.

But Tyrion had more on his mind than a dull minded sister even if she was queen. His father had sent him to King's Landing in the wake of Lord Stark's escape and Jaime's capture to keep his sister and nephew in line before they ran the realm into the ground.

Now the only thing they seemed to be focusing on was running him ragged. With Caspian gone there was no one to distract Cersei from her scheming as his second nephew was very good at doing. Now he was having to dig his heels in to keep his sister and sadistic nephew from completely destroying the city now that war was upon him.

He had received a letter from his father with the news that the north was massing together and the Stormlands were calling their banners. There was even news that the Tyrells were in negotiations with Renly Baratheon and if those two were joined in marriage than that would mean that the North, the Reach and the Stormlands were against them.

There was no help to be found from Dorne as they hated the Lannisters with a legendary passion and Tyrion was beginning to feel as if he had a constant headache.

And then there was the news that Myrcella's visit a few days earlier had brought upon him.

His sweet niece and nephew were searching for a way out of King's Landing and they were depending on him to come up with a solution.

He supposed he could send them back to Casterly Rock, but with Tywin Lannister away from it there was some vulnerability in the place. He could use the guise that he was considering a marriage proposal from Myrcella in order to get her out of the city but he knew his sister was likely to kick up a fuss about that.

Still….an arranged marriage seemed to be the only way out of this for his niece. Cersei would be upset but once he appealed to her for Myrcella's safety she would have no choice but to agree. She would threaten and complain and yell and like she always did but as his father always said she would do her duty to House Lannister. If that meant preserving its legacy by sending one of the members of that house away then so be it.

For one wild moment he considered a marriage proposal between her and Robb Stark. The boy was fifteen and she was nearly thirteen and the he was the heir to Winterfell. Perhaps if war wasn't coming and they were still in peacetime it would have been plausible.

But seeing as how Joffrey was as mad as a rabid dog and his sister was a banshee when aroused, that would be like declaring for all the world to see that his niece and nephews were the product of incest. His father would declare him insane and dispatch someone else, perhaps his Uncle Kevan to take his place.

Tywin Lannister didn't want to relinquish the throne but Tyrion was beginning to think that that was becoming a more imminent possibility than he thought. The Lannisters were outnumbered, the Stormlands, Dragonstone and the North were united and were currently massing their forces and banners for war and Dorne would not lend them any support.

The Tyrells were already in the Stormlands negotiating a betrothal contract and the worst part was that he wasn't sure if it was for Renly or for Caspian.

Everyone knew that the ambition of the Tyrell family was legendary and since those notices had gone up all over the city, the word had spread like wildfire. Some people were taking up the chant for the Lannisters to relinquish the throne and others weren't sure what to believe.

Personally and Tyrion would never say this to anyone but he had a feeling they were fighting a losing battle. With Jaime captured and Caspian and father gone there was no one in King's Landing with a legitimate claim to the throne.

If Renly chose to marry his nephew to Margaery Tyrell than it was all over. The Reach, the Stormlands, the North and the Riverlands would be united against the Westerlands and this rebellion would be put down very quickly.

Caspian would heralded as king of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm and would arrive at the gates of the city with a queen at his side. His nephew had never been in a battle but he had killed men before which was more than he could say for his other sadist nephew who was content to watch his soldiers do all of the work.

The boy was craven also, he would run at the first sight of a fight he couldn't win. That was why he had declined to spar with Robb Stark when they were both in Winterfell. He had only sparred with those who he knew wouldn't hurt him when he was in the Capital and he was convinced that that wouldn't be the case when he was in Winterfell.

Tyrion knew for a fact that Robb Stark would have humiliated his nephew in the tilt yard and so Joffrey had responded with taunting when he realized that he couldn't win.

One of these days if Stannis ever did arrive at the gates of the city, Tyrion imagined he might be so fed up with his nephew at this point that he might just throw the boy king over the wall and let Stannis have him.

In theory. Ok...not that much of theory. If he not might, then the mob of King's Landing would certainly do it.

No matter how much he might like the idea at times of feeding the boy to wild beasts, he had to help rule for his brother's sake. Jaime was the only person outside of Caspian, Tommen and Myrcella that he loved and he had to get him back. In order to do that Tywin had to keep managing the war from where they were and right now it mattered more to his father that they retain their hold on the throne than sue for peace.

Such was his dilemma at the moment.

At the moment, he was pouring over Caspian's latest letter that had been hand delivered to him by Bronn. The seal was unbroken so he knew that no one had read it. At the moment, no one really knew where Caspian was.

But Tyrion knew there was a spy in the small council. And now he just had to wait and find out who they were.

Caspian's pen strokes on the parchment seemed urgent as if he had written quickly and with great haste.

He spoke of the forces massing in the north and that of the gathering of the bannermen of the Stormlands.

Dear Uncle

I write you with great urgency. Things have begun moving faster here than I had anticipated. I await Uncle Renly's letter to join him in the Stormlands any day now. The north has begun massing for war to put the last true heir of Robert Baratheon on the throne and I am running out of time. I write to you not to tell you of positions or of battle strategies but when you should see an army arrive at the gates of the city, I may just be at the head of it.

I am writing to you with regards to Tommen and Myrcella. I don't know who will arrive at the city first, Uncle Renly and I by land or Uncle Stannis by sea, but make no mistake we will be coming.

You know what happened when the Capital was sacked the last time. Please Uncle I beseech you to hide Tommen and Myrcella away somewhere. Until I am in the Red Keep again, I cannot guarantee their safety. I do not want to have their blood on my hands if I was not there to prevent it. They are innocents and as so often happens in war innocents are the first to suffer. I will not have that happen to my younger brother and sister.

Were we in peace time I would suggest sending Tommen to foster at Winterfell as I know they would be good to him. However as this is no longer an option, I would suggest sending him to Casterly Rock. If he is ensconced there, there is far less chance for something happening to him.

As for Myrcella the only option there is for her is to marry her off. I like it not but if I want to guarantee her safety, I would place her with a man who would do just that.

Keep safe uncle, war is no longer coming, it is here.

I would live to see you all safe and happy.

Prince Caspian Baratheon.

Tyrion sighed and tossed the letter into the fire right away, having retained all that he needed to know. I would live to see you all safe and happy.

He sighed before picking up a quill and getting to work.

So would I dear nephew…..so would I.

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Things had almost been too quiet over the past few days and Caspian was beginning to feel somewhat antsy. He had as yet to receive a letter of reply from his Uncle Tyrion in the capital and the quiet was beginning to become more than he could stand.

In order to compensate he had thrown himself into training with his little brother and with Ser Cortnay. In fact Caspian had become so obsessed with learning what he had to do before he took the crown that he was forcing himself to train for four hours every day. Ser Cortnay was already commenting on his progress and Caspian was sometimes glad that he had been born second because it enabled him to spend more time not only focusing on his studies but on his sword play as well.

It was one of the only things he and his Uncle Jaime had in common and the knight had spent a good deal of time training him when King Robert was still alive. It seemed to be coming in handy now.

Caspian had also taken to training himself at night with the sword of his ancestors. It was not as heavy as it had once been and he was slowly beginning to consider bringing it to the attention of the maester of Storm's End to see what he thought.

The last thing he wanted however was more pressure about what was to come. His dream had returned with a vengeance and given his predisposition towards storms and lightning. The fact that he had been born in the midst of one, Caspian was beginning to feel a sense of premonition about what was to come.

It was all beginning to become a reality.

Barring a disaster, in the very near future he would most likely be the next of the Seven Kingdoms. The thought was a little overwhelming and there were times when he had to actually stop and think about himself wearing the crown.

Will I be a good king? A king that will be respected and feared, a king that the people will rally behind in terms of hardship?

A small part of himself wasn't convinced that this would be the case but he chalked that up to his own insecurity and inexperience. He was only fifteen name days old, still young for a king. It young to go to war and he was about to embark on that journey as well.

Trying not to think of his own worries and fears in the context of his future kingship, Caspian threw himself into his studies further and decided to focus on solely what was going to happen in each day and no further.

Time would make him rue the day he didn't look farther ahead.

One week into his stay in Storms End, several of their bannermen arrived at their gates with a message from his uncle stating that he was returning to the castle with his bannermen to regroup before they would march on the city.

The letter detailed that their forces were to be divided and that Caspian would sail with a third of them to Dragonstone where they would meet with Stannis Baratheon's forces and then sail for the city while Renly would take whatever bannermen that he had sent on ahead of him to the fortress and march for the city.

The reason for their returning to the ancestral castle was that he had received a letter from Lord Stark that some of the Stark bannermen would be sailing from White Harbor via Lord Manderly and they were to meet and coordinate at Storm's End.

Unfortunately Caspian received this letter only after the maester had bid them enter and given them food and drink in the castle's own great hall.

He was somewhat displeased that this had been done without his approval but now that they were here, he supposed that if his uncle ordered it than there was nothing to worry about.

That didn't mean he didn't look carefully at the letter when the maester gave it to him. Something about it made him a bit suspicious that Baratheon bannermen would be returning to Storm's End.

But given what his uncle had written how about he was to be sailing with some of the Stark bannermen to King's Landing along with his Uncle Stannis and his forces, he was content enough to quash his disquiet at this change of events.

Caspian was also a little relieved to know that his uncle would be returning to the castle. He loved the Baratheon ancestral stronghold, but over the past week he was beginning to go a little stir crazy. The time for action had come and he was glad he was finally going to be put to use.

The bannermen were courteous if perhaps a bit raucous which made Caspian a little less tense. It had been a long time since he had been in the Stormlands so this type of personality trait was a welcome memory.

They had been the nearest to the castle so Uncle Renly had ordered them to ride ahead of him and deliver the orders to his nephew. Caspian spent the evening speaking quietly with them about his uncle's plans and discussing strategy for when the two armies of Stark and Baratheon arrived at the Capital.

A second letter from his uncle detailed that he was bringing the Lady Margaery Tyrell with him. Caspian was a little surprised as he had thought that the Rose of Highgarden was to be his uncle's wife.

But then he read farther down the letter and saw that his uncle had made plans to betroth Margaery to him. He didn't know why he was surprised.

The Tyrell ambition was famous throughout the realm. Rumor had it that it began after Aegon's conquest of the Seven Kingdoms and the destruction of the Gardener Kings. The Tyrells had once been stewards of the Gardeners and it was only due to Aegon's benevolence that they reigned as Lords Paramount of the Reach and Wardens of the South. It seemed that the Tyrells after that would be forever determined to obtain more power for themselves because as power had been given, it could just as easily be taken away.

And what better way to obtain power than to make the youngest Tyrell daughter the future queen?

Caspian supposed that he would have been a more favorable match compared to his Uncle Renly who rumor had it frequented the bed of Loras Tyrell very often. He had heard of the beauty of Lady Margaery and he supposed there were worse women he could marry. He was nearly a man and the time to claim a wife would come soon enough. The Tyrells were a good option.

Although he wondered why on earth his uncle would choose to betroth her to him before there was a crown on his head. Surely it would be better to wait until they had succeeded in taking the city and he sat on the throne before making Margaery his wife.

A second later his mind dismissed the thought because of what had happened in the last war. The Tyrells had been on the wrong side of it and sided with the Targaryens, nearly starving out his Uncle Stannis in these very walls and now they were eager to be on what they thought was the right side of the war.

The power the Tyrells wielded as paramount of south, was in their grain and exports to the rest of the realm. They essentially fed all of the south and no matter which side they chose in this war they would be welcomed back at court because no house could do without their grain for long.

Plus the Queen of Thorns must have thought this was a favorable match seeing as how the North and the Stormlands were united against the Lannisters.

They must have thought this war was a sure thing. He supposed he couldn't blame them for jumping on a chance to bind a Tyrell queen to the future king. Caspian supposed they must have bought into the notices that his uncle Stannis had had his spies post all over King's Landing regarding the illegitimacy of his brother.

An ambitious wife could be both a good and bad thing. He had a feeling he would have to watch his back in the beginning, but if he could get Margaery to trust him than perhaps he would have a partner that he would eventually love.

So on top of a future kingship, his dreams and the fact that he was about to fight in his first war, he was going to be betrothed to the Rose of Highgarden. Well perhaps her beauty will be a distraction until we can formally get to know one another better. Sex is a must in a marriage before romance and love ever will be.

Oddly enough he was reminded of Sansa Stark and her dreams of the songs and the romance that she was so fond of and that it had nearly led to her downfall. I certainly hope she remains in the north until the duration of this war is complete, no matter which side wins. This war might teach her that her dreams of love and romance are not real and not to be dwelt on more than they should.

He hadn't received anymore letters from Lord Stark since that first one but for some reason Caspian was relieved about that. To know that he would soon have thousands of men following him into battle, prepared to die for him was a concept that gave him no end of nerves.

But he was a Baratheon and theirs was the fury, so he swallowed his nerves and steeled himself to prepare for war.

When he received word that his uncle Renly and the rest of his men were only a day away, Caspian felt increasingly relieved that he would finally have someone here to help council him. His Uncle was a bit flamboyant for his taste and Caspian had heard the shocking rumors surrounding him and Loras Tyrell which made him both appalled and amused at the same time. His uncle most definitely had a vested interest in betrothing him to Margaery as it ensured a Tyrell alliance and allowed him to spend all of the time that he wasn't fighting with her brother.

I suppose there really is something or someone for everyone, Caspian thought wryly as he read the letter.

Marriage…..

He was only five and ten but he knew that it wasn't uncommon to be married at this age. Sansa Stark after all was betrothed to his brother and she was only three and ten. Granted they would not have been married for some years yet but it was still young.

I will not take Lady Margaery as my queen until I am sitting on the throne with a crown on my head, he silently thought to himself. My father might not have been the most honorable man but he didn't take a wife until he was sitting on the throne either.

Granted, this also had something to do with his love for Lyanna Stark but the principle held true all the same.

Caspian refused to take a queen until he could be called a king. It wasn't enough that he was being heralded as a king by the Stormlands and the North and soon by the Reach as well, he wanted all the people of the realm to know him and call him as king.

Perhaps it was slightly prideful but what happened if gods forbid the war was lost and he would be the on the run for the rest of his life, he could not drag a woman with him into that no matter how beautiful or wit filled she might be.

Listen to yourself, you're beginning to sound as driven by duty as a Stark, he thought wryly. Although I suppose that is something that Uncle Tyrion might say. Duty was never something he revelled in, in fact he chafed at the bit when it came right down to it.

Caspian had considered what might happen if he did indeed lose the war even though at this point it seemed doubtful. He had the Stormlands and the North and soon the Reach would be behind him as well. Dorne would likely stay neutral as would the Vale though he supposed that couldn't be helped.

Dorne hated the Lannisters after what had happened to Elia Martell and her children in the sack of King's Landing during his father's rebellion. The Red Viper held a grudge to this day about the death of his sister.

No, there would be no allegiance from Dorne.

Caspian put both letters from his uncles aside for the evening and went to sup with his father's bannermen, now his bannermen for the remainder of the night.

It was an evening of great feasting and morale was high all around.

For one thing, all the men seemed to be deep in their cups given the battle they were sure was to take place soon. The music was loud, food spilling, wine flowing and Caspian couldn't remember the last time the hall of Storm's End had been filled with such light and laughter. Probably not since Steffon and Cassana Baratheon were alive.

A bittersweet feeling filled the young prince then as he thought of his paternal grandparents. He had never met them but he wondered how different his father might have been if they had been alive during the rebellion.

Robert had always spoken of his parents with a great sense of pride and Caspian remembered when he was younger and his father was a bit of a different man hearing stories about how his grandfather had been on the mad king's small council and the work he had done in King's Landing.

Cassana Baratheon was described as being a gentle woman full of love for her three sons but of terrible anger that thundered like a storm. Both were taken from them too soon.

And then as Caspian sat at one of the tables in the hall next to maester Jurne, he remembered something that his father had said to him when he was a little boy, no more than five years old. He had taken a practice sword and was in the tiltyard of the keep swinging it as hard as hard could at a dummy.

Caspian was angry because of something Joffrey said to him and as a boy he had never cried, he only got angry and sought for ways to get back at his older brother. Even at five, Caspian knew his brother was a monster and someone needed to do something about him.

Cersei wouldn't have done anything as Joffrey was her golden prince, her first boy and even at the tender age, Caspian knew she would always treat him differently than Joffrey.

It was there where Robert, found him, swinging the sword at the dummy with all of his might and refusing to stop even as the sweat became evident on his forehead and rolled down his face.

"What are you doing lad?" he had barked at him and Caspian had been so startled at the interruption that he nearly dropped his sword.

"Sword fighting father," he had replied stiffly before attempting to swing at the dummy again.

Immediately the sword was gone from his hands and he looked up in shock to see the king hefting the practice sword in his hand.

"That's not sword fighting boy," he barked. "If you want to learn to sword fight you had best do so with a real opponent."

Caspian had been confused. "But who father?"

The king had growled out a laugh. "Who else boy? Me!"

Caspian had been a little shocked but also very excited at his father's desire to teach him to use a sword. "You'll teach me?"

"That's why I'm here isn't it? Now take this and watch what I do!"

Caspian had spent the entire afternoon sparring with his father, learning the correct way to swing a sword and how to stand and how to block and how to defend and go on the offensive.

He had been exhausted after a few hours and having seen this Robert called for the two of them to take a rest. They had collapsed onto the nearest bench panting and Robert had clapped his five year old son on the back so hard that Caspian had almost fallen off the bench.

"We'll make a Baratheon out of you yet boy!" he barked. "You're good with a blade. You'll be a right fine swordsmen. Lyanna would have been proud of you as I am. The gods know she should have been your mother. You've even got her eyes. Aye, you would have made her proud…if she had lived. She should have been your mother."

Caspian blinked, having no idea why that memory had come to him now but suddenly feeling a softening towards his late father and he wished his last words to him hadn't been so harsh. Whatever bad blood there had been between them after all, he would always have that memory of his father telling him that he was proud of him.

There was a curious burning behind his eyes and he blinked fiercely and cleared his throat harshly, cursing the amount of dust that was still in the hall.

"Are you well you grace?" Maester Jurne asked.

Caspian coughed. "Aye, it is just some dust perhaps." He took a sip of the wine and cleared his throat again

He turned to the aging maester then. "I believe I will retire maester Jurne. Tomorrow will be a busy day and the last thing my uncle needs is to see me looking rather like drunk from the amount of feasting that took place tonight."

The maester nodded and without looking back, Caspian strode swiftly out of the great hall, determined to think more on what his father had been said. He had been by no means a perfect man but Caspian was slowly beginning to see him better in the months since his death.

He had been an unhappy man who was never meant to wear a crown as war was what he had been made for. His relationship with his mother had been a toxic one which hadn't helped his disposition. Caspian had never hated his father, but he found that he wished the man had found another purpose for living after taking the crown.

There must have been something that made him happy.

Did you ever wonder that you might have been part of his purpose? A small voice in his head asked.

Caspian flinched. Where in seven hells had that come from?

Robert had told him and Joffrey before he died that he should have spent more time with them, that he was never meant to be a father. How was that supposed to make one feel?

At the time, Caspian had thought it meant he believed they shouldn't have been born, but now he was beginning to revise his opinion. He finally reached his chambers and bolted the door before he sat down on the bed and lowered his head to his hands.

By the gods this was confusing.

He hadn't thought of his father much since he had died and perhaps these repressed memories were the reasons why. Caspian didn't want to think of the man his father had been. He only wanted to remember the bitter gluttonous fat drunk that had ignored him in his later years.

It was easier that way and made his head heart less.

Instead, he pushed memories of his late father aside and knelt on the floor by his bed before reaching underneath it to pull out the trunk where he kept the sword of his ancestors.

Given the feasting that had taken place that evening he doubted that he would take it down to the tilt yard to practice. There were too many people around and the last thing he wanted was for people to see it.

In the moonlight from the window, the edges of the bizarre great sword seemed even sharper than before and the sapphire in its pommel gleamed like lightning.

Caspian held it up to the light, not having any trouble lifting it now as he had been practising with it for the past week.

He loosened his grip on the hilt and then tightened it several times. It had seemed a bit big for him when he first lifted it but now after nearly seven days of holding it in his hand, it now seemed a perfect fit.

It was still one of the largest swords he had ever seen however and he knew time was running out when he would have to reveal to people that he had it. He yawned, suddenly feeling very tired after the day and the excitement he had had and he knew it was high time that he get to bed.

Uncle Renly would be arriving the next day and then…..well then the war would begin.

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His dreams were plagued once more by loud noises and flashing light.

Caspian opened his eyes to found he was once again standing on the cliff face where Storm's End should have been staring out at the ocean as it boiled in the midst of a storm.

The thunder was loud overhead but instead of a voice, he say many arcs of lightning stab downward out of the sky and into the writhing waves.

There were so many of them and so bright that Caspian had to cover his eyes for he feared it would burn them blind.

When he finally felt it was safe to open them again, there was another great roar that shook the land he was standing on and drove him to his knees.

When he had steadied himself and looked up again, his jaw had gone slack with astonishment at what he saw.

Where the lightning had been previously stabbing the waves an enormous form had risen out of it and was staring at him with its sun like white eyes, eyes that he was sure were made for staring through the dark depths of the ocean.

It was a great sea dragon.

It was all blue and green and the spines in its back were as tall as Caspian himself. Its body was as long as five ships and its sapphire scales flashed light starlight in the lightning all around it.

It's eyes seemed to be fixed on Caspian however and the Baratheon prince could feel his knees knocking together as he stared into its eyes.

It made no move to come closer to him though even as he was standing on the cliff watching it.

Instead it seemed content to stare at him with its massive white eyes that were unblinking and didn't seem to be focused on anything other than him.

All of a sudden, the world tilted and he could feel himself being thrown off of his feet by an unknown force before he was pitched headlong from the cliff face.

He barely had time to throw his arms over his face and let out a cry before he was engulfed in the boiling water. It was both hot and cold and for a moment he imagined to himself that this must be how a lobster felt in a pot as it was being cooked.

He kicked his legs and arms desperately as he swam for the surface and after what seemed like a lifetime, his head broke through the waves, air filling his lungs as he gasped for breath.

Caspian hadn't done much swimming before. He knew how in theory but trying to do so in the midst of a storm with a strong undercurrent was damn near impossible.

Still he knew he had to try….if only to get away from that hideous sea monster that he had seen.

And speaking of which…

There was a sudden roar behind him which made him risk a glance backwards and immediately wish that he hadn't.

The shadow of the enormous sea creature loomed over him, it's neck as high as the mast of a ship, sun like white eyes staring down at him. It opened its mouth and Caspian could see the many rows and dozens of razor sharp teeth as long as his arm twinkling down at him.

He could feel its fetid breath on him and he wanted to gag from the stench. It smelt of a thousand bodies that had been sucked into that gaping maw.

And he had a feeling he was about to be next.

Instead however, it merely observed him for a moment before a voice came out of it much to his astonishment.

"GO EAST STORM KING!" it bellowed. "GO EAST!"

Before he even had time to ponder what that meant, it shut its jaws with a snap and then dove its huge head down towards him as if it were going to crush him beneath its enormous body.

Caspian only had time to close his eyes and throw his hands over his face before there was a terrible pain in his head causing him to cry out.

He awakened with a gasp on the floor by his bed, the blankets tangled all around him while a storm was raging outside.

He sat up slowly and looked around groggily. His head felt fuzzy as if someone had stuffed it with feathers and shaken it so that he didn't know which way was up and which was down.

That notion alone in his fogged up brain made him think that something was wrong. This was not the fuzzy sensation from the after effects of too much alcohol. His limbs felt heavy and his movements sluggish and lethargic as he untangled himself from the blanket and sat back down on his bed with his head resting in his hands.

What in seven hells is going on here?

He hadn't indulged himself in his cups that much because he knew that his uncle was going to be there the following morning and that he would want to be alert in order to discuss battle plans with him.

So what was the cause of his slug like movements and sleepy thoughts?

He shook his head slowly and forced himself to get to his feet, crossing the room where the jug of water sat on the dresser with an empty bow next to it.

Just as he was going to touch the jar, an arc of lightning discharged from his hand. It flew till floor and disappeared. Caspian jerked his hand vigorously but no sparkle came next. He knew this was not imagination.

What is happening to me? Caspian thought bewildered.

He then poured some water into the bowl before splashing some of it on his face and drying it with the rag lying next to it.

His head still felt slightly fuzzy and he shook it absently, trying to remember what he had eaten at dinner thinking perhaps that could have something to do with his lethargy now.

Caspian had just made up his mind to try and get some more sleep, hoping that it would have some sort of cure on his fuzzy head and sluggish movements when all of a sudden the sound of a horrifying scream chilled his blood.

And then like a bucket of ice water being poured over the head of someone in a drunken stupor, clarity returned and Caspian broke into action.

Without even thinking, he dashed for the trunk beneath the bed and jerked it open before yanking the ancient sword from it and dashing for the door.

Something was horribly wrong.

The moment, Caspian opened his door, he was greeted with the sounds of clashing metal as if someone were fighting just down the hall.

Horror gripping him tight, he dashed in that direction and came upon a scene that was like to make the late mad king giggle with glee.

Upon the stairs leading down to the great hall of Storm's End, he saw what looked to be a dozen men fighting.

The remains of several of the men he had been feasting with were slumped over at the half empty tables, goblets of wine tipped over and their heads cloven in two with a sword.

There was blood everywhere and it stained the tiles of the keep so dark it almost looked like wine. The sight of the wine gave Caspian another shock as he realized what someone must have done.

Someone had drugged them all.

That was the reason for his fuzzy head and slow movements. Someone had wanted them all forcibly put to sleep.

He glanced down at the bottom of the stairs and grimaced when he saw the broken and twisted form of Maester Jurne as if he had been pushed and his neck broken.

He could see more men fighting down in the great hall itself and Caspian blinked stupidly for a moment, unsure which were men loyal to the Baratheons or imposters.

"Lannister bastards!"

Caspian turned at the sound of the roar and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw Ser Cortnay Penrose fighting off several armed men who seemed to be trying to make their way up the stairs.

The men didn't look particularly like Lannisters but he would never have reason to doubt Ser Cortnay and it was one against four, though he seemed to be holding his own.

Brandishing his ancestor' sword, Caspian dashed in that direction to help the older castellan as he seemed to be tiring.

Before one of the men could blink, Caspian had driven the sword into his gut and was shocked for a moment when it passed through the man's breastplate and chain mail as if it had the density of parchment.

He recovered quickly enough for a moment and continued fighting.

Something he noticed as he analyzed movements was that these men didn't seem to be trying to kill him. They were driven by a purpose and that purpose seemed to be to get past him up the stairs though Caspian had no idea why.

All he knew was that he had to stop them by any means necessary.

"Ser Cortnay!" he shouted over the clashing of metal and the shouts and grunts from the other men. "How many?"

"I don't know your grace!" came the shouted reply. "They came upon us as we were in our cups. Turncoats, Lannisters disguised as Baratheon men!"

Caspian felt his blood run cold as the realization sank in and he wondered why on earth Lannister men had been sent to Storm's End.

Keep up you idiot, a voice in his head snapped as he narrowly avoided the point of a blade. They were obviously sent to capture the castle for your grandfather, you are fighting a war after all.

It was for that reason that he was sure that they wouldn't hurt him if they could help it, but he had made no such pledge. He sunk the sword into the torso of another Lannister man, feeling the sickening relish as it drove in nearly up to the hilt.

He turned to help Ser Cortnay but had only turned just in time to see one of the Lannister guards move just slightly faster than he was…..and stab Ser Cortnay in the stomach.

"No!" Caspian screamed and wasted no time in running the man through with his blade, not giving much thought to how he had gored the man in the back.

As soon as the man toppled back down the stairs, Caspian flew to the side of Ser Cortnay as the blood drained out of the man.

He seemed to be trying to say something as his lips were moving, but Caspian couldn't make it out. He moved his ear to the man's lips but only heard murmurs as the man's eyes turned glassy and the light in them slowly died.

Caspian felt sick as the old castellan breathed his last. He had defended Storm's End for so long and now on the blade of traitors his life had been taken from him. This red haired fellow was the man who had cared for Storm's End when there was no lord of the keep and saw to all its matters. He was the one who had cared for and trained his brother –

Caspian felt ice water in his veins then.

His brother.

Without even thinking, he got to his feet and dashed up the stairs two at a time praying he was wrong and ran down the hall like a bolt of lightning.

A distant scream nearly brought him up short but that only increased his pace as he forced his feet to strike the floor faster. He skidded around a corner and found himself several feet down the hall outside of his brother's room. There were at least a dozen men gathered there and they weren't his, he knew that for a fact.

The door had been wrenched open and another blood curdling scream sounded from within, causing Caspian to go white with horror.

"Quiet brat!" a rough voice rang out and then there was the distant sound of a hand cracking across a face and muffled cries.

A man appeared from the room, dragging a small dark haired boy by his hair. He was crying out and grabbing at his head in pain.

"What are you waiting for Derick?" one of the men demanded. "Gut the squealing pig and let us leave!"

A knife was jerked from the man's belt then. A rage such as he had never known came over Caspian then and he gave a roar that made him sound a bit like a caged animal.

Some of the men turned towards the sound, but Caspian didn't even allow them to pull their swords from their waists before he was on them, slicing through bone and flesh and marrow with a snarling fury that would later name him as indeed the son of his father, once called the Demon of the Trident.

The sword almost seemed to sing as it tasted blood again and it ripped and tore through flesh leaving carnage in its wake. Caspian fought with a fury that would have made his later father proud and the snarl he wore was etched into his face. A Baratheon through and through.

It wasn't enough though.

Somewhere in the background, he could hear his little brother screaming for him. "Caspian! Caspian! Caspian!"

The Baratheon prince had just plunged his sword into another man and turned just in time to see another man, a bastard in deep red with a cruel snarl on his face….plunge his knife into his little brother's chest up to the hilt.

Time seemed to slow after that.

A scream tore out of Caspian that he didn't even know that he had loosed and that many of the castle servants would remember and shudder about in the years to come. It was a cry of utter pain and agonized horror that made one want to cover their ears.

Caspian dove at the man and plunged his sword into his chest, not even watching as he yanked the sword out and gently caught Edric before he dropped to the ground.

"Edric open your eyes!" he demanded, shaking the little body roughly. "You can survive this, you will. You're a Baratheon do you hear me?!"

It would later occur to him that it was insanity and a foolish errand to be speaking to a corpse as that was what his brother now was, but one could also argue that Caspian wasn't entirely sane at the moment.

Edric didn't respond and Caspian shook him harder. "Edric open your eyes! What am I….What am I going to tell your mother when….when she learns of this? Tell me?!"

Still the little boy didn't blink his glassy blue eyes so like Caspian's that it hurt to even look at him.

Eventually it sunk in that Edric wasn't going to wake up and Caspian simply pulled his bastard brother to his chest, who was only five years old and wept. Great heaving sobs shook him and he clutched the little boy's body as if his life depended on it and rocked back and forth.

His tears fell onto Edric's chest already causing the bloody fabric of his tunic to become wetter. Caspian wept until he had no tears left to give and his eyes felt as dry as a desert, so dry and swollen that he could barely blink them.

He slowly lowered Edric's body to the floor and crawled over to the man who had stabbed him and was now staring up at the ceiling of the hallway with unseeing eyes.

He roughly grasped at his tunic, searching for some sign of who had sent them. He found it in the form of a small unsealed letter whose wax had been broken before. Wordlessly, Caspian tore open the letter and scanned its contents.

As he did his hands began to shake because another emotion was taking hold of him then.

The seal of the queen was one that was all too recognizable and later he would wonder how idiotic it was of this man to carry his mother's personal seal on her.

He must have been one of her many lovers. She had had many before his father's death and after it he was sure. As he finished the words inked upon the page, Caspian's hands began to shake so badly he could barely see his mother's name signed in ink at the bottom.

But he possessed just enough presence of mind to see it before his rage compelled him to tear the damned thing in half completely unconsciously. The raging grief that filled him moments earlier as a result of his little brother's murder was replaced with something far more terrible and permanent.

Caspian wondered absently if this is what his father had felt like when he learned of Lyanna's abduction and death at the hands of the crown prince, if he had felt this sort of unbridled hate that poured like a poison through his veins, begging to be released.

He dropped the shards of the letter to the ground and looked around wildly, almost manically for his sword.

Once his hands had closed around the hilt and the blade itself began to tremble with the force of his fury, Caspian let out an insane cry of rage that would later chill the blood of all those who heard it.

Grief and rage tussled for control in him and he felt a hate such as he had never known racing through his veins. It was crying out for blood and he was only too happy to give in to it.

His mother.

His bitch of a mother had done this.

She had taken his baby brother from him before he had even begun to live. She had caused a child to be murdered who had never done her any harm and in the end she had served her own sentence upon herself.

Caspian's trembling hands dropped the sword as they were shaking so badly and he had no desire to control them.

He wordlessly picked up the body of his little brother again and stared down at his glassy blue eyes that would never smile at him again.

As the realization of that dawned upon him, a wordless scream of rage engulfed Caspian once more and that very cry cemented his own fate for the next ten years.

Later the servants of castle who recalled the anguish and fury of young prince, would said that whole Storm's End trembled from the rage of Caspian Baratheon. And Cersei Lannister didn't knew it then but by playing her hand she doomed Lannisters rule over Westeros, in the form of the Storm King's Wrath.

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