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GOT: The Young Stag[Discontinued]

Steffon Baratheon, trueborn son of Robert and Cersei Baratheon, is the odd child out. His black hair and blue eyes mark him out among his siblings. As the Seven Kingdoms spiral into chaos, Steffon is forced to become a leader. Arya/OC. Show-centric. Rated M because you know, Game of Thrones. ______________________________ author: csn251 site: Fanfiction.net

MichaWT · テレビ
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61 Chs

Chapter 13

Anyway, I had only 1 question for the Q&A! One! So I will me extending it until Chapter 15.

Anyway the question is from Termin8r, who's been with this story from the beginning, so they have my thanks. Anyway, the question is: "What inspired you to make Steffon the way he is? Did you have a base character in mind?"

A great question, Termin8r. Steffon takes inspiration from several different people and characters. A major factor was The Walking Dead's Rick Grimes, who starts the show with a very strong moral compass which gradually deteriorates over time. There's also, Asa's own character, Ender from Ender's Game was a big factor too, largely due to their shared brilliance as commanders but lack of personal fighting ability. This is also where Steffon gets his naivety from. 

The biggest one though was Julius Caesar. The two are both from prestigious families, excellent battlefield commanders who rely on a series of brilliant subordinates, have sympathy for the poor, and are populist reformers. The similarities end there though. Caesar was the consummate politician, able to scheme and manipulate his way to being appointed Dictator for Life shortly before his death. Steffon on the other hand, does not possess the same political skill as Caesar, instead relying on more politically-inclined supporters for that (the biggest ones of which will become apparent as the story continues). Caesar also knew the value of PR; he knew how to play up his victories and downplay his defeats. Steffon doesn't, this again being due to his naivety. Steffon will also not be stabbed 33 times by his friends and allies, namely because that would be a dick move on my part. 

Anyway, with that out the way, let us proceed!

Dragonstone, late afternoon

The ship docked soon after. As the small party disembarked, Steffon noticed a familiar face awaiting them.

"Ser Davos! Great to see you again!" He beamed.

"You too, my Prince. It has been a very long time, indeed." Davos responded, smiling.

"Oh, where are my manners? This is Jon Snow, Syrio Forel, you already know Ser Barristan, and this is my lovely betrothed, Lady Arya Stark." Said Steffon, introducing them one by one, before taking Arya's hand into his own.

"I'm not a lady" Arya muttered under her breath.

"Well we really must get going, my Prince. It gets quite cold after dark here, and-" Davos cut himself off. "What in Seven hells is that!" He shouted, pointing at Ghost. Steffon had to just shrug at that. Jon scratched the wlf's head to calm him down.

"That's Ghost, Jon's direwolf." He said. Davos just nodded warily.

"Well I would advise keeping it away from your aunt Selyse or your cousin. Speaking of which, your uncle and cousin are awaiting you.\." Steffon's eyes lit up at that. He hadn't seen Shireen in a long time, and was eager to do so again. He and his group followed Davos and the squad of his uncle's soldiers up to the castle. Steffon led them in to find his uncle awaiting them.

"My Prince. It is good to see you again." The famously stone-faced Stannis Baratheon said.

"I'm your nephew, you may call me such. This is Jon Snow, Syrio Forel and my wife-to-be, Arya Stark." Steffon said, taking Arya's hand and kissing it as he introduced her, causing her to blush slightly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Stark." Stannis said. Arya was about to say that she didn't want to be a Lady, but bit her tongue. This man was Steffon's uncle, and the Master of Ships besides.

"And you too, Lord Stannis" She said, remembering her courtesies. She may not be a lady, but a person deserved to be addressed by their title. Stannis simply nodded in reply before turning to his nephew.

"My Prince, Shireen wants to see you." He said.

"Naturally. I have a little gift for her too. Come Arya, shall we say hello to my cousin?" He asked.

"Yes we shall!" She giggled. Steffon took her hand nad led her through the castle, before arriving at the door to Shireen's room.

"Now I should tell you, Arya, Shireen suffered from Greyscale as a youth. You know what that is?" He asked.

"I have some sort of idea. It's a disease that turns your skin grey, isn't it?"

"Basically. It leaves flesh stiff and dead, skin cracked and flaking and feels and looks like stone. Stannis sent for every healer he could find, but in the end, iWe're not quite sure what actually saved her. It left its scars though. The left side of her face is covered in cracked grey skin. Just try not to stare at it, okay?"

"Okay" She replied.

"Right then. Let's say hello." He said opening the door to see Shireen reading one of her many books near the window. As the daughter of Stannis Baratheon turned to see Steffon and Arya, her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.

"Steffon!" She cried happily, running into his arms and embracing him.

"Hello again, Shireen." He said, embracing her before breaking apart. "How's my cousin doing?" He asked.

"Well, mother doesn't let me out of this room. Not that I mind though; more time for reading!" She said happily. This alarmed Steffon slightly; who in their right mind would keep their daughter locked in her room? The fact that she hadn't gone mad was a testament to Shireen's mental fortitude.

"Speaking of reading, have a look at what I got you." He said, pulling out a copy of The Dance of the Dragons: A True Telling. Shireen squealed excitedly, happy to finally have her hands on the book. "And allow me to introduce you to my betrothed, Arya Stark of Winterfell." He said, moving her forward slightly. Shireen turned to her.

"Hello, I'm Shireen, this idiot's cousin."

"Oi!" Steffon shouted indignantly, causing the girls to laugh.

"You're really pretty." Shireen continued, causing Arya to blush slightly. "You'll make this halfwit happy."

"Oh, come on!" Steffon shouted again

"I hope I will, my Lady. He makes me happy." Arya replied to Shireen.

"I hope he does; he wouldn't be able to find anyone else to marry him."

"Oh really, cousin? The Garson girl seemed to like me." Steffon responded.

"Until you dumped wine on her head." Shireen replied.

"Two things: One, it was a complete accident, two, it happened one time! One time!"

"I know, but it didn't do you many favours. I just hope Lady Arya here doesn't suffer the same fate." Shireen said, still teasing him. Steffon sighed, giving up. The young Baratheon girl then opened her book and began reading.

"Don't bother trying to start a conversation now, Arya. When Shireen gets a new book and starts reading it, you have no chance. Come on, I'll show you my favourite room." Said Steffon taking Arya's hand and leaving room. Moments later, the two had arrived at his favourite room. Arya looked around to see a giant painted table cut in the shape of Westeros. "This is called the Chamber of the Painted Table," Said Steffon, "This was the room where Aegon planned his conquest of Westeros with his sisters Visenya and Rhaenys." He said. Arya was in awe of the table; it was massive! As she looked out the window, she could see ships come and go as the sun descended. As she was marveling at the sight, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind.

"It's beautiful." She said.

"Yes it is. Almost as beautiful as you." Steffon replied.

"That was a little hackneyed, Steffon."

"Perhaps, but it is true." He shot back. Arya turned around so she could face him, and pecked his lips slightly. This grew and grew until Arya found herself pressed up against the wall with Steffon's lips attached to her neck. It was something new, that was for certain, and she had no idea where he'd picked it up. It was at this point the Stark girl got a cheeky idea. Experimentally, she arched her back, causing Steffon's entire body to stiffen for just a moment. Long enough. She grabbed Steffon by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall, before kissing him again. The kissing began to get slightly more heated when they were interrupted.

"Steffon, Arya, Lord Stannis says it's time for-oh Gods!" Jon exclaimed, covering his eyes as the young couple hastily pulled apart. "Lord Stannis says it's time for dinner. And please don't let me see that again." Said Jon, leaving the room in a hurry. The two lovers smiled sheepishly at each other before darting off to get chgned for dinner. While Steffon threw on his trousers and leather doublet with the Baratheon stag embroidered on the chest, Jon somehow managed to force Arya into a dress (which she was very unhappy about). As the two sat down at the dinner table with Stannis, his wife Selyse, Shireen, Davos, his son Matthos and a woman wearing a red dress. She might be attractive, Steffon thought of the woman in the red dress, but Arya's downright beautiful. He didn't care if Arya was unhappy wearing a dress; she looked stunning in it.

As the highborn residents of Dragonstone carved through their food, Steffon got fed up with the silence and decided to strike up a conversation.

"So uncle, you never did tell me why you left King's Landing." He said. Stannis turned to him.

"I had matters to attend to on Dragonstone. Selyse and Davos can only do so much." Stannis replied.

"It would be easier if he could read." Selyse muttered. Steffon pretended he hadn't heard her.

"Yes, after all, I'm a smuggler by birth. I can't even read." Davos said

"I'll teach you, Onion Knight." Shireen chimed in "I can help you. Besides, you won't be a very good knight if you keep saying ka-niggit all the time." She continued. Davos smiled warmly at her.

"Perhaps you could read the holy texts that Lady Melisandre has with her father-" Matthos started before Stannis interrupted him.

"I do not want a religious debate at my dinner table. Save it for later." Stannis said, with his typical air of authority. They ate in silence for the rest of the meal. Steffon noticed the red-clad woman, whom he assumed was Lady Melisandre, staring creepily at him. Oh well, he wasn't going to ask; he hated religious debates too. Soon, dinner was over and everyone retired to their rooms. Steffon and Arya had been given a shared bed chamber, as Jon and Stannis trusted them enough; what with Steffon's sense of honour and all. Jon however, unable to sleep was out walking the battlements with Ser Barristan and Syrio. Jon enjoyed their company. The three of them were warriors through and through. Perhaps this was the reason for their bond.

"The Prince and Lady Arya seem to be getting along well for a couple who couldn't stand each other just a few months ago." Said Barristan, as the three overlooked the harbour from the battlements.

"Indeed. Your sister cares for her Stag Prince greatly. Her main motivation in training now is to protect him." Syrio responded, causing a light chuckle from the three of them.

"It's the same with Steffon; he wants nothing more than to protect her." Said Jon. He reached down to scratch Ghost's ears. True to his name, the direwolf had largely kept to himself on Dragonstone.

"Of course he does," Ser Barristan replied. "It's in his nature. The boy wants to protect everyone. He's a man of peace. In an ideal world, he'd be the perfect leader. Unfortunately, the world we live in is far from ideal. He can't stand to see suffering, yet he sees it everywhere he goes. He can't stand people who fight or manipulate for their own gain, yet everyone does it. But, he's young and idealistic. He mustn't lose that idealism too soon; otherwise he'll become a cynic, and cynical leaders are bad ones." He finished. Syrio and Jon nodded silently, pondering Barristan's words. I swear to all the Gods, thought Jon, I'll make sure that boy stays an idealist

Steffon and Arya were lying in their bed, with the covers pulled right up. It did get rather cold after dark at Dragonstone.

"Steffon?" She asked.

"Yes, love?"

"Why do you care about me so much?" She asked.

"Are we really doing this now?"

"Yes, we are."

"Alright then." Steffon sighed before launching into his spiel again. "Arya, I love the way you're not like other noble ladies. Most of them would rather sit at home doing embroidery or some other stupid thing. I can't stand that. It's why my father and mother refrained from trying to find a betrothal for me for two years. They were concerned I'd make my wife's life a living hell. But not you, Arya. You're my type exactly. You're tough, you're smart, you're kind. That's not something a lot of noblewomen can say for themselves."

"That's probably pushing it, Steffon."

"Maybe, but you're still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Sansa has nothing on you; you're much better-looking than her. Not to mention that you're not afraid to get messy when needs be." Steffon continued, bringing their foreheads together. "I don't want anyone else." He finished.

"I feel the exact same way about you." She replied, before Steffon kissed her. It wasn't a hurried, heated kiss like earlier; this was slow, passionate, and caring. The two held it for a while before breaking apart for air to see themselves smiling at one another lovingly.

"I think it's time we got some rest. Goodnight, my Wolf Girl."

"Goodnight, my Stag Boy." Arya replied, settling her head on his shoulder.

Awwwh. Wasn't that cute, people? 

I know we haven't had much action so far, but don't worry, things will be going down in the next few chapters. I just wanted to give a glimpse of how Steffon interacts with Stannis' family.

And should I have more conversations with Jon, Barristan and Syrio? They seem like a natural group if you ask me; all fierce warriors, all fiercely loyal. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't forget to post a question for the Q&A. Auf wiedersehen!