Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Robert Baratheon, son of Steffon Baratheon, was named the Lord of Stormlands in the later vestiges of the rule of King Aerys when his father died of consumption. In his youth, the young Lord had been famous for his voracious appetite for wine, women, and war. Lord Steffon sought to have his son fostered by another Lord to curb his bad habits and initially chose the aged Mord Arryn, yet it never came to be.

In a surprising turn of events, the King would offer to foster the young Bratehon, and Lord Steffon would jump at the honor, more trusting of the cousin he had been a friend of than the older Lord Arryn. So, the young Lord would leave for Kings Landing, for his fostering. King Aerys would raise the boy like a son, labor hard to curb the boisterous young man's bad habits, and achieve mixed results. The King would succeed in instilling a sense of duty in the Baratheon lad, yet the young Lord always tended to be led astray whenever he was out of the man's eye.

Perhaps knowing that, the King would also arrange a reasonable match for the young Baratheon. A match he would later be found describing as.

'The old man chose her to keep an eye on me!'

0000

CERSEI LANNISTER

In the stormy lands of the Durandon kings, it was a rare morning as the sky remained clear with no hint of a raging storm. On the shores of the Stormlands stood the ancient fortress of Storm's end with its singular defiant Drumm tower overlooking the bay, which had a number of ships broken and cracked bound to it.

Men were rushing towards the castle in hoards as the sounds of men drilling permeated the lands. However, inside the ancient fortress, the chambers of the Lady of Storms' Ends were filled with serenity as the golden-haired lady Cersei Baratheon nee Lannister sat on her bed, nursing the young little girl in her arms. She was pale, and her hair was disheveled, yet even in such a state, one would have to be blind to ignore the great beauty of the West.

And if nature ran its course, the young bundle with shimmering golden locks in her hands would grow up to rival her mother. Cersei Lannister smiled as she saw her daughter sleeping soundly. Her birth had been rather tricky, yet seeing the little babe in her arms made it all worth it.

"Hello, little one," she cooed as she rocked the babe in her arms, happy that Robert had let her choose their daughter's name. She had to choose Joanne, in memory of her recently departed mother, Lady Joanna Lannister.

Cersei had yet to fully recover from her labors, so a maid stepped forward and spoke slowly.

"My lady, may I take the young lady to her room so you can rest?" yet Cersei shook her head. It was the first time she had gotten to hold her daughter. She did not want to let go of her just yet.

So, she shook her head as she dismissed the maid.

"No, I shall take care of her for some time," then she turned towards the servant.

"Where is Robert?" she questioned, and the maid answered dutifully about the location of the Lord of Storm's End.

"My Lady, he went to the docks with the Prince in the morning. He also took young lord Ormund with him," and Cersei nodded and looked out the window at the fully risen Sun. They would be coming back soon.

"And what about Steffon?" she inquired about her younger son, named after Robert's father. The boy was leaner than his elder brother and preferred the company of books rather than the war hammer. Ormund took after his father more than her and was growing up to be as large as his father, blessed with the same monstrous strength he preferred the war hammer much to Robert's joy. Yet Steffon preferred a sword, much like his uncle though Cersei would wager her son was better at his letters than her twin.

"My lady, he is out training in the yard. He came to check on the young lady in the morning before going to the yard, he came to check on you as well, but you were resting at the time," and Cersei nodded and dismissed the maid as she finally focused on the sound of metals clacking reaching her room.

This wasn't the first time she heard these sounds. It had been years now though she remembered hearing them previously as well. Yet this time, it was as if the sounds were angrier, and they should be. War had been thrust upon them. Their enemies had struck first. It was now widely speculated that King Aerys had been assassinated, and a whole conspiracy was at play once more.

King Aerys Targaryen, considered by many to be the greatest King after the Conciliator himself. The man was a friend of her and Robert's father and had brokered her marriage to him, despite her father's will to have her married to the Prince. Cersei had complex feelings about the man, for he broke her dream of being a Queen, but her marriage with Robert had been a suitable arrangement by him.

As her mind wandered to the late King, she missed the sound of the door to her room opening and Robert entering her chambers. She broke out of her trance when she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked to the side and found her husband standing there with a smile on his face.

"What's on your mind?" he questioned her as he sat by her side. She shook her head.

"Nothing. When did you come back, the servants told me you were at the docks with the prince?" she questioned as she looked him over, neither missing the distinct smell of the Arbor Gold nor the little flushing of his face.

"Just now. We were unloading some of the important cargo so he could finally leave for Kings Landing. Aemon plans to leave by sundown, I will be sending a team of guards with him to guard him on his route. We cannot take any risk in these times."

And she did not miss the balling of his fists as he said that. King Aerys had hit Robert hard, for the man had been like a second father to him, and his sudden death had taken him by surprise. Yet that was no reason for him to forget himself.

Robert's eyes went to the little bundle sleeping in her arms, and as he reached for her, she swatted away his arm.

"Not like this. I can practically smell the wine on you," she rebuffed him and watched as his eyes widened at having been found out. There was a look of guilt on his face, yet she shook her head.

"Hahaha, me and Aemon just drank a bit from one of the vintages he brought from his voyage. In honor of the King, you see. To honor him," and she nodded sarcastically.

"Forget about it. Just be careful in the future. You know what the healer told you. Drinking excessively could kill you," she chided him once more in a concerned tone. The King had been rather strict with him in regard to his drinking habits, and those teachings remained effective to this day, yet he still needed some remaindered here and then again.

"Will you be leaving with the Prince as well?" she suddenly asked, handing him his daughter. Robert smiled as he cooed at the sleeping child before he replied to her.

"No, Ormund will accompany him for the funeral. I have other duties," and she nodded. The war had two fronts at this time, and they were closer to the second front.

The Stepstones.

"How is Prince Aemon?" she asked about the young prince. Prince Aemon had been one of her prospective matches. The King cared equally for his sons and had gone against tradition and had granted his second son a separate seat of power. In these circumstances, a match with Prince Aemon would only be marginally worse than a match with the crown Prince.

Robert's smile dropped, and he shook his head as he told her of his friend. Robert shared a closer bond with the younger Prince Aemon than with the older Prince Rhaegar.

"He is distraught and angry. Half his fleet was destroyed by that fucking Euron Greyjoy. He himself barely escaped," Robert replied angrily, and she saw his eyes blaze with the famous Baratheon fury.

"Gods! If I get my hands on those fucking squids, I am bashing them all! Those treasonous cunts!" he roared angrily, and the chamber shook with his voice. She placed her hand on his arm to calm him down.

"It's okay, they will pay! Everyone who had a hand in this will!" and he nodded and she noticed his eyes widening suddenly as he handed her Joanne.

"Ahh! I almost forgot about this! But you were in labor, so I did not want to trouble you," and her heart dropped as she heard those words. There was an apologetic look on his face as he handed her a letter from his pocket.

"There was a second attack as well. An attack on Lannisport!" and her eyes widened as dread pooled in her gout at his words. She immediately opened the letter and began to skim over it.

"Thankfully, both your father and brother are fine. The fleet was damaged, but that can be rebuilt," and her heart eased as she heard about her father and Jamie. She sighed in relief a bit at that.

"So, will you be going to Lannisport," and he shook his head.

"No, I will be leaving for Dorne! The levies from the Stormlands are to support Oberyn there," and she frowned a bit at that. Despite the relative peace of the last thirty years, the Stormalnds and the Dornish had a somewhat tumultuous relationship.

"The marcher lords will not be happy about this. Most of them are still at odds with houses from Dorne," she added, and Robert nodded.

"They might grumble a bit, but they will ride as ordered. As much as they may hate the Dornish, they hate the triarchy way more." And he was right about that.

Though it would be more accurate to say they were more loyal to the Royal family, especially to the late King who had made abundant grain available to them, solving the central problem of these lands. Though, with both Ormund and Robert leaving, who would be in command of the castle? While Steffon was able, he was still a child and had a couple of years before he reached his majority.

"With both you and Ormund leaving? Who will be in command of the castle?" she questioned.

"Ahh! Well, Steffon will be here, and you will be there to guide him. However, Renly will be returning shortly, and he will take command of the defense of the shores."

And Cersei frowned as she heard that. The youngest of the Baratheon brother had always been a bit of an enigma to her, he had always been polite, yet she never felt easy around him. But perhaps it was only her.

"When will he be arriving?" she questioned him, and Robert missed the rigidity of her tone as he replied in a boisterous tone.

"He will be here in a week."

0000

In one of the manses of the perfumed city of Lys, several men sat around a table as maidens danced and littered around them in clothes that showed more skin than they hid. They conversed with each other in hushed tones as the maidens entertained them.

Suddenly the doors to their room opened, and another man entered with two guards flanking him on his side. Everyone turned to face the intruder as their eyes focused on him. He wore a dark doublet and had a sword attached to his hip. His head was bald, and he had a round face though his eyes were the signature amethyst, a legacy of Valyria.

The whole room became quiet as he reached his seat. The bald man looked around and finally broke the silence.

"The plan is in motion. Aerys Targaryen is dead!"

0000

I can assure you that Aerys was laughing when he made this match possible. Laughing very hard!

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