#A Baratheon Memoir Oneshots Collection

[longlivetyrells]

A Baratheon Memoir: A Dance for Suitors

Main Characters: Original Female Character, Renly Baratheon

Other Characters: Robert Baratheon, Loras Tyrell, Margaery Tyrell, Stannis Baratheon, Dickon Tarly

Summary: Robert threw a feast to hunt suitors for his youngest siblings but little did he knew, Renly had it all covered. Or Two single siblings chatting about potential partners in a dance.

Warnings: none

A/N: inspired by an imagine I posted earlier about the Baratheons having a younger sister, I might turn it into a series, so feel free to send me requests/ plot ideas!

Word Count: 1100

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Melodies resounded, culinary delights tantalized the senses, and lords and ladies from the far reaches of the Seven Kingdoms adorned the grandeur of the Iron Throne's fall. Amidst the opulent affair, she stood in a corner, delicately sipping from a goblet brimming with wine emblazoned with the emblem of her noble lineage. Yet, weariness nestled within her, for this soirée had become all too familiar, a predictable routine orchestrated by Robert, her brother, who scheduled such celebrations with alarming regularity, each time conjuring up a different excuse. This occasion, a mingling event, aimed to unveil unmarried nobility in the hopes of forging an ideal alliance—a notion that seemed preposterous.

Robert persistently teased his two youngest siblings about their reclusive lives, oblivious to the fact that neither of them was truly alone. Nevertheless, the king's whims prevailed, and if he desired to parade his sister and brother before the court, then they would graciously play their assigned roles. Sylvina had come to understand that it was far easier to oblige than to engage in endless arguments with a mad and inebriated man.

Drifting through the lavish spectacle, she adorned an emerald-hued gown adorned with the intricate patterns of her noble house. Her cascading tresses framed her countenance, and upon her silk raven hair, she wore a crown gifted to her by her brother—a delicate arrangement of miniature roses, each set with a radiant emerald stone. Adorned with minimal jewellery, unlike the ostentatious preferences of Renly and Robert, she embraced a preference for understated elegance. Her siblings often jestingly attributed this trait to an inherited likeness to their brother Stannis.

"Sister," Renly interjected, joining her in solitude, his lips curling into a smile. He was the sole companion thus far, as others seemed either terrorized by Robert's volatility or cowered beneath her visage of discontent. "A splendid feast, is it not?" he inquired, fully aware of the answer. "Indeed, I am overwhelmed with joy," she retorted, rolling her eyes. Renly laughed, for that was his nature—a man easily entertained, never one to shy away from filling the air with the symphony of his laughter. Once, Robert had been akin to this, until he wed that wretched witch.

She returned his jest with a smile. "So, my prince, have you discovered your perfect match yet?" she playfully taunted, well aware of his forbidden relationship with Loras, a sight she had stumbled upon countless times within the halls of Storm's End.

Renly protested with a roll of his eyes. "As a third son, my marital prospects bear no consequence for the family," he coldly responded. "And as the fourth, Robert deems it fitting for me to be wed to one of his snobbish acquaintances," Sylvina replied, raising her wine glass to her lips for a sip.

Arching an eyebrow, Renly observed, "I see your stay in King's Landing has kindled a fondness for wine, perhaps influenced by our dear King and Queen?" Sylvina lightly punched his arm when no prying eyes were upon them.

"Besides, worry not about suitors, dear sister. You can always marry Loras, and Robert would delight in a union with another esteemed and ancient house," Renly commented, playfully taking her glass and sipping from it. She protested and swiftly retrieved her glass. "I thought you were already wed to him," she teased once again. Renly scoffed but, after a moment, relinquished the glass back to her, slightly less intense than before. "There are worse fates than marrying Loras," he reminded her. "You do realize that he and I do not get along, do you not?" she retorted in disbelief.

"He is an honourable young man, devoted to his kin, handsome, and I have witnessed the tenderness with which he treats you. However..." Renly's words trailed off, for he knew the harsh reality that awaited them. "He does not hail from a Great House, and the likelihood of Robert ever granting his approval for Dickon is slim. If such an unfortunate circumstance arises, you are left with two choices: either wed Loras and keep Lord Tarly as a secret affair or... allow Robert to decide your fate, which would most likely steer you toward the frigid embrace of the North."

Her brother spoke the truth, as he often did, though his wisdom was seldom showcased. "And what of you, dear brother? Who shall be your prospective suitor?" she desperately attempted to shift the conversation, weary of a future tainted with bleakness. "Fortunately for me, the noble houses of Westeros lack suitable female heirs," he laughed, adding, "Though Margaery would be a possibility if she not succeeded in supplanting Cersei." He smiled, his mind contemplating the potential suitors, a notion Sylvina found exasperating.

"Shall we dance?" she implored, finally reaching a state of inebriation that allowed her to revel in the feast of courtship. Renly nodded, accepting her invitation. Taking her hand, he planted a gentle kiss upon it, leading them both to the centre of the dance floor. "Is your dear Lord Tarly present this evening?" he inquired. She shook her head, and her brother offered a smile.

The two began to sway in unison with the melody, captivating the attention of Robert, who held mixed feelings—he wished his siblings to relish the evening, yet harboured concerns that their sole interaction was limited to each other and the Tyrells, instead of fulfilling their duties as prince and princess.

"I am aware of your worry about the future, dear sister, but rest assured, whatever the outcome, it shall be to your benefit. I shall never allow anyone to impose a miserable fate upon you," her brother whispered, his words serving as a promise she knew he could not entirely keep. Nonetheless, they provided Sylvina with a comforting solace. "Do you think we should disclose our potential suitors to Robert just yet?" she inquired. Renly shook his head, laughing heartily. "And deprive him of these feasts? We both know his ulterior motive is to find a partner to warm his bed for the night," he jested, eliciting laughter from Sylvina.