#this is WEEKS of yall feeding me delicious stannis h/cs

[a-libra-writes]

Sand & Storms - Chapter 1

Ships: Stannis Baratheon x Martell!Reader

Summary: The youngest of the Martell children travels with her family to King's Landing, stopping at Storm's End on the way. Though the visit is meant to be short, she finds herself determined to befriend a certain quiet boy.

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When they crossed the river, it was like crossing into a new world.

The arid desert was gone, as if by magic. With Castle Yronwood far behind, their wheelhouse pushed toward the one of two major roads that brought the rest of Westeros into Dorne. The first was treacherous and hard, and crossed the mountains. This one was smaller, following along the Sea of Dorne, a coastline it shared with the Stormlands.

The scent and breeze of the sea hit her at once, and she delighted in being able to stick her head out of the wheelhouse and not feeling a ruthless sun. A ship would have been much faster, but the seas were ruthless this time of year. Her dear older brother, Doran, wanted no risks.

Y/N Martell was no longer complaining about the stuffy wheelhouse and sandy roads. She exclaimed as flocks of seagulls swooped close to their encourage.

Elia giggled at her baby sister’s enthusiasm. “Perhaps you should ride alongside Oberyn?”

Y/N whipped her head around so quick, her braided hair hit her in the face. She ignored it. “Can I? Can I truly?”

“You’ve been stuck in here long enough. I’m sick of looking at this needlework.” Elia was doing a beautiful piece, but even Y/N had noticed how much she was putting it aside. Personally, she was tired of the books and games and songs. The youngest Martell wanted nothing more than to stretch out and run along the seaside.

Well, she was somewhat doing that. Once they stopped to rest the horses, she was able to step out and gaze at the coast. They were steadily going up, she noticed. Dorne was flat, sandy, hot and wonderful — and while she adored it, never had she seen so much green nor so much sea this close. She spent her days at the Water Gardens and her beloved Sunspear, not on the road.

Y/N ran to Oberyn, who was japing with the guards. She caught their attention at once, standing at her full height and crossing her arms.

“What’s the report, little lady?” Oberyn smirked. He acted like a man grown now, though Doran had many years on all of them.

“I’m riding alongside you,” Y/N said. What she willed, she often got.

…Though not always. “You’ll ride with me, little sister.” He chuckled. “You can hold the reins.”

For once, Y/N didn’t protest about that. There was too much excitement, too much to see, to actually be bothered by Oberyn’s protectiveness. Once they returned to the road, he easily swung her up on his horse. Oberyn was only four and ten, but as tall as most men now, and he’d long been training with his spear. He had it with him now, though Mother and Elia disliked the thought of him using it.

With Oberyn focused on the horse, Y/N was free to look around as she wished. The wind blew across her face, making her smile in delight as she took in the seaside. In the far distance, ships dotted along the line where the sea and sky met. Behind her was their retinue of wheelhouses and guardsmen, but also the mountains they rode alongside.

“Oberyn, what does Storm’s End look like?”

“It’s a very large castle. It has one of the largest Towers in Westeros — not the tallest, though.”

That didn’t make much sense to Y/N, but she believed her brother. She pressed him for more information, and he sighed, but continued. “When we get closer, you’ll see the ‘Drum’. It’s a great, round wall, probably impossible to siege. That’s really what it looks like, a drum. The walls keep the whole ocean away. You’ll see.”

Now that sounded unbelievable. “How do you know? Did you visit Storm’s End after leaving Casterly Rock?"

“No, it’s just what I’ve read,” He said. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

“It was only just a year ago.” Y/N still had a lingering bitterness that she wasn’t allowed to go with Oberyn and Elia, though Doran made sure to keep her occupied with riding and dancing and playmates. Her siblings and Mother returned sooner than expected; Y/N thought Elia or Oberyn was meant to marry a Lion, but they were just as confused about the sudden depature. She later learned that Mother’s good friend, Lady Joanna, had passed. Perhaps that was why Mother’s face twisted into a grimace whenever the Lannisters were brought up.

Looking out into the distant sea, her mind quickly wandered away from the boring world of adults. Court was tedious, but the gowns and feasts and new people made the boring days worth it. This view was definitely worth the all the extra tutoring and lessons beforehand. Mother wanted her to impress.

Y/N looked ahead, as if she would be able to spy something other than rolling hills and endless trees. The seaside reminded her of King’s Landing, their promised destination. “Are we going to stay in Storm’s End for long? I wanted to see the Red Keep and all the knights and the Iron Throne. Oh! And the ships on the Bay!”

“Hush.” Oberyn pulled at her cheek, though not enough to hurt. She still stuck her tongue out at him and batted him away. “We’ll arrive when we arrive.”

It happened sooner than she anticipated, thanks to the chatter of her brother and the endless sights. In the distance, Y/N could see a tower, but it had such a peculiar shape. She realized it was absurdly wide, and the top was almost square. This was a far cry from Sunspear’s many slender, gold-topped towers.

When Oberyn said it looked like a fist jutting up from the earth, she couldn’t agree more, except it wasn’t surrounded by rocks and earth — there were heavy, imposing, perfectly circular walls surrounding the great tower. The walls were truly drums, arising from the sea itself, perfectly carved into the rocky mountainside. She couldn’t hear the waves, but she could see them savagely crash against the drum, not once coming close to touch the top of the walls.

Y/N felt herself shrink in the saddle. Something about the relentless waves, the cold stone and rocky path made her nervous. When she saw Sunspear, it was nothing but beauty and memories.

“You’re quiet. Feeling nervous, little sun?”

She hated to be thought of as cowardly. Y/N shook her head quickly. “Not at all! Are you?”

“Not at all.” Oberyn looked behind him, at the steady pace of their wheelhouse, carriages and knights. When he turned back to his sister, he was grinning like he thought of something clever. “Why don’t we get a closer look?”

Y/N didn’t understand until he put the reigns in her hands. She lit up. “I won’t stop if you fall in the dust!”

“I don’t plan to. Hyah!”

It was Oberyn’s call and kick that spurred their horse on, but Y/N didn’t care. She held the reigns tight, whooping as the horse sped along the road. When they came within the distance of a town — and the imposing walls and tower of Storm’s End shadowed over them — Oberyn and Y/N slowed their pace to observe the smallfolk. They were greeted with bright eyes and interest, especially when their mother’s entourage caught up.

Before she knew it, Y/N was smiling and waving at children gaping at her, and laughing at ladies tripped over themselves whenever Oberyn winked. Two guards rode ahead of them to keep the crowd at bay, and by the time they were halfway through town and dangerously close to blocking off the entire main street, several knights dressed in black and gold came to meet them.

Y/N had seen knights before, but these knights wore such heavy-looking armor. She watched her reflection in their chestplates, then watched how their armor turned dark as Storm’s End glowered even closer. Y/N tilted her head all the way up to take in the impossible tower. It was wider than most keeps, yet rested high above the stormy sees. That’s when she noticed the clouds were more plentiful than before, and looking grey.

They passed under the gates, and she almost fell back. Oberyn steadied her and snickered. “Your eyes are as big as saucers.”

She huffed and stopped gaping. Being inside the walls felt no less imposing; it was almost like being trapped. Oberyn pulled his horse off to the side, along with their escorts. He quickly dismounted and helped Y/N down. In her excitement of the town and the keep, Y/N forgot about Mother and Elia. She hurried to their wheelhouse, though it was Oberyn who helped Elia down. Long journeys never suited her.

Their radiant mother had already excited her own wheelhouse. She was covered in gold silks and her favorite shawl, not a hair out of place, as if she didn’t make the same long journey as her restless and tired children. The Princess of Dorne took Y/N gently by the arm, smoothed out her dress, and patted some of her hair. She wasn’t upset in the slightest, which Y/N was relieved by. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself, little sun.”

“I was!” She said. “I’ll be as good a rider as Oberyn, once I’m taller.”

“Yes, of course.” The Princess said, still smiling. She was in a good mood today, but Y/N had never known her to be troubled. Mother seemed effortless in everything, from dancing and riding to speaking and ruling. ���Shall we meet our hosts?”

Y/N took her hand, feeling comfort in her mother’s warm grip, and walked alongside her with their knights and the Baratheon guards. Atop the stairs leading to the great keep, she saw a flash of gold and black, and a large boy ran down. Y/N thought he might fall, but he effortlessly jumped two and three steps at a time.

“They’re already here!” The boy announced loudly, though to no one in particular. It made Mother stop in her tracks, but then two more figures descended the stairs.

The first was a great beast of a man. The boy in front of him was unmistakably his, even if he towered above his son. They both had wild black hair that wasn’t like the neat, oiled style in Sunspear, and matching blue eyes. The massive man wore a practical tunic of mostly black, with a great gold cape following behind him. His laughter echoed off the yard, booming like thunder. “Easy, lad! We ought to greet our guests properly!”

Y/N had no doubt the man could’ve easily leaped past the stairs. But he had a protective arm around a woman, and his other hand was clasped in her’s as he helped her down. This woman was only shorter by a head, and she was large in her own way: A round face, round body that was heavy with child, and round chestnut ringlets that fell along her shoulders. Her deep forest green and snowy white gown trailed behind her, and Y/N immediately noticed a collection of turtles embroidered along the train. She decided she liked this woman very much.

The lady was all smiles as she raised her arms to embrace Mother. “You do us a great honor, Princess Amira.”

“Your lord husband honors me with his hospitality, Lady Cassana.” Mother easily replied, returning the embrace. Y/N was surprised. She’d always seen lords and ladies drop to their knees before her mother, but this lady was certainly too far along with child to try such a thing. Mother stepped aside so all three of her children were within view. “These are my dear children — my eldest daughter, Princess Elia Martell. My second son, Prince Oberyn Martell. And my dear youngest, Princess Y/N Martell.”

Y/N didn’t like being introduced as the youngest, but she loved hearing her title. She smiled and bowed regardless, matching her siblings.

“A fine family! This is my oldest lad, Robert.” The tall lord boomed. He seemed incapable of speaking quietly, even as they stood close. He slapped his hand down roughly on the boy’s shoulder, and though it looked like it may have hurt, Robert didn’t budge. He only grinned, and it was mostly directed at Elia. Y/N wondered how old he was — he was almost Oberyn’s height. “And my second, he’s right — … Hells, Cassana, where is he?”

Lady Cassana she sighed as she looked upward, already knowing the answer. That’s when Y/N noticed a boy was standing at the top of the stairs. Was he always up there?

“Come on down here, son!” Lord Steffon called. “Come meet our guests!”

“Please, sweetling? Just a short hello will suffice.” Lady Cassana said.

The boy looked down at them, the discomfort obvious on his face. Y/N wondered if he was afraid of going down the stairs, but he had to be about her age, and only babies were afraid of that. The boy looked back at the open doorway to the keep, then back at them, then at the stairs. He finally walked down to meet them, taking each step carefully. His clothes were more gold than black, with the same stags stitched along his tunic. His hair was far better kept too — in Y/N’s opinion, he looked like a proper lordling instead of a wild Northman.

Finally, he stood by his mother. Or rather, slightly behind her. Lord Steffon laughed and pushed him forward. The rough contact made the boy flinch and stared at his feet, his cheeks reddening.

A few moments of silence passed between them. Mother tilted her head toward the boy, but Lady Cassana quickly said, “This is my dear second, Stannis.”

“Well met,” Mother said, eyeing the youngest, and then the oldest Baratheon child. Before she could continue, Elia’s soft voice spoke up.

“Lady Cassana, Lord Steffon, I’m so grateful for your hospitality, but if I may…” She was still holding tight to Oberyn, and that’s when Y/N realized how pale her sister was looking. Quickly, Lady Cassana went to her.

“Goodness, yes, why don’t we all come inside? Come, dear, I have a beautiful parlor for you to rest in.”

“You’re very kind, my lady.” Elia’s cheeks heated as she was being fretted over, but Y/N knew her sister needed the rest. Traveling took more out of her than anyone. Lady Cassana called over two maidservants, who bowed to Elia and helped escort her. Robert eagerly trailed after his father, and Oberyn held his arm for Mother.

Y/N realized she was quickly left behind, and with the strange boy, at that. He opened and closed his fists, and still refused to look at her. She knew he must have been younger. She could see over his head, even if it wasn’t tilted down. Y/N was no stranger to playing with boys, even shy ones. She had all manner of playmates back at the Water Gardens, it would be nice for someone to explore this strange castle with her.

“We should be friends,” She said.

“No.” The boy called Stannis responded instantly.

The answer surprised her… mostly because she hadn’t expected a response at all. “Why not?” She asked.

The boy opened and closed his hands, making little fists, then flattening them against his sides. He looked at her and the ground a few times before answering, “Because I don’t know you.”

“Then you should get to know me! That’s easy to do. I’m a Princess of Dorne. I like to read, but I do lots of riding, and dancing. I’m the best dancer at the Water Gardens. Oh, I swim, too. And… I have another older brother, his name is Doran. He’s also a prince. We all are, because Mother is the Princess of Dorne, and she’s clever, and strong. When I’m grown, I’ll be just like her.” Y/N rattled off these things, listing them off on her fingers, and starting over when she ran out of digits. “There. Do you know me now?”

Stannis finally looked at her. He still opened and closed his palms, but it was slower than before. “Maybe.”

It was good enough. Y/N offered her hand, and when he refused to take it, she reached for his sleeve. Remembering how much he disliked his father’s roughness, she took it gently. Instantly, he froze up.

“We’re going to get left behind,” She said. She tried to speak softly, and nicely, like Elia did. “Can you show me the way?”

Stannis seemed to be deeply considering it. He lightly tugged against her grip, and Y/N got the message, letting go. Stannis pulled at the sleeve a few times, flexed his hand again, and said, “I’ll show you.”

Y/N smiled, and gladly following him along, even if he was a slow walker. She tried to ask questions about himself, and the castle, but he was stubbornly quiet. This Stannis reminded her very much of a maid’s boy in the Water Gardens. He was two years younger, and a Sand, and far smaller than most children. She often protected him from the other’s teasing. And so, Y/N Martell decided she was going to do the same for Stannis Baratheon. Their time would be short together, but she would be a great friend to him.

As it happened, being the friend and protector of someone who was doing their best to avoid you — and most company — was difficult.

Y/N worried that she was too eager. When she sat right beside Stannis at breakfast and dinner, he avoided her gaze and moved toward his mother. When she tried cornering him in the gardens to play, he ran off before she could get more than four words out. And finally, when she tried bursting into his bedroom, he was not there.

After that incident — which was on the third morning — Lady Cassana gently explained that Stannis was a shy sort, and he could very well disappear for the rest of the visit. Y/N couldn’t imagine not seeing her designated playmate again, so she readied herself to spend all day looking up and down Storm’s End.

The library was her first choice, but it was too obvious. She walked briskly though the tall shelves and looked under heavy oak tables, but no dice. The massive tower held the maester’s quarters, which she only peaked into when he was gone, and a grand feast hall that was empty. There were fanciful guest quarters that her family stayed in, and Lord Baratheon’s chambers — naturally, these two options were out. The armory was also present, but it was full of men moving equipment and shouting. She couldn’t imagine the quiet boy putting himself in that chaos.

Y/N sighed and led herself outside, where there was a vast system of little gardens, training yards, orchards and flower fields. They were all a sight to take in, laid out perfectly inside the castle’s suppressive walls. If she listened close, she could hear the waves break against them, but by and large they were too thick for any sound to get through.

This is what those little lizards feel like when I capture them in bowls, She thought. Looking up at the giant tower covered in heavy battlements made her dizzy.

The main training yard was empty, but that was expected. Only Robert frequented there, and Y/N was already annoyed with him. Like the previous afternoon, he was there, hitting a wooden post with a dull sword. She couldn’t believe he was allowed real steel already.

“Robert!” She called, walking over to him. “I have a question.”

The large boy hit the post a few times before answering her. “What?”

“I’m looking for your brother. Have you seen him?”

Robert scoffed. “Did you look in the library? He’s always reading.”

“I did, and he wasn’t there. Where else should I look?”

“How would I know?”

“Because you’re his brother! You ought to help me look. I’m your guest, and a princess, besides.”

Robert went back to the wooden post, which was littered with notches and splintered pieces. “You aren’t really a princess. The real ones are in the Red Keep, like my grandmother.”

Y/N blinked at him, taking in his ragged black hair and graceless swings. If his grandmother was a Targaryen, then her’s came from beyond the Wall. She stomped her foot. “Dorne never kneeled to dragons. So yes, we are princes and princesses.”

“I don’t play with girls, anyway,” Robert said, rolling his eyes at her little display. “You can’t fight.”

“I can take that sword and hit you with it!” Y/N threatened. To her great annoyance, the bigger boy just laughed at her.

“Sure you could,” He said, and waved the steel above her head, well out of her reach. Y/N kicked him in the shin, and he almost dropped it. It fumbled in his hand, but he caught the hilt.

“You ought to act more lordly!” She said, and turned on her heel out of the training yard. Robert shouted something after her — probably how she wasn’t a lady — but she was far gone.

She stopped fuming by the time she reached the orchards. The birds flying through the branches and the delicious fruit weighing them down took her attention, cooling her temper down. Back home, she climbed all sorts of lemon and orange trees, and knocked the fruit down so it splashed and floated in the water pools. The babies would shriek with delight, and she’d jump down and wade through the water to fetch it for them.

There were no oranges here, but apples and cherries were delicious, too. She found a branch low enough that she could jump for it, and a bounty of apples fell when she yanked the branch down. She pulled out her skirt like an apron and piled them in. A bright green one had rolled away, and it was when she followed it out of the neat rows of apples that she noticed an old dirt path. It was nearly overgrown with grass, but it was clearly leading to an older, less cared for part of the orchards.

Naturally, Y/N had to follow. She was mindful of the apples, but not so mindful that a few didn’t roll out of her skirt and had to be picked up again. To her delight, the path led into a run-down sitting area. There was some sort of shed that was now in shambles, and a row of old benches placed next to stone statues being overtaken by ivy.

Even better, a boy was sitting upon one of the benches, his legs pulled up to his chest. He idly flexed his hands against the wood as he read the book in front of him.

“Stannis!” Y/N bounded up to him, again dropping apples that had already been bruised several times. “I found you!”

The boy flinched like she physically hurt him. She felt guilty for that, he must’ve been thinking very hard, and now she scared him. Y/N sat down, letting her apples spill out around her. She spoke softer as she said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You have a lovely home. I really enjoy it.”

Stannis frowned at her. He had been doing that since she arrived. He turned back toward his book.

Y/N wasn’t deterred. “We ought to explore together. I bet you know everything there is to see here, so you can show me some secret spots. You know a secret spot, don’t you? All the castles have them. If we were in Dorne, I could show you the ones in Sunspear.”

She waited for a response, and there was none. Stannis turned a page. She thought his blue eyes darted to her for a moment, but maybe it was wishful thinking. Y/N picked up an apple and offered it to him. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” He mumbled.

Her head tilted toward the book. An extravagant painting on the page took her attention, but it wasn’t a real picture. It was decoration for the border. She was surprised how old the book was, and how long some of the words are. “That looks difficult.” She said. “You must be well-read.”

She brushed some dirt and leaves off the opposite side of the bench, and sat next to the book. Stannis flexed his hands into fists, then pressed them against his legs. He was so still, it reminded Y/N of those scared dogs that would freeze before they ran.

But then he reached forward and turned the page. She looked at the pictures first, then looked at the words. They were upside down. She was wondering what kind of book this was, but the next page was a large painting of a dragon.

“Is this a history?” Y/N asked. “About dragons? Do you like them?”

Stannis shrugged. Y/N liked the picture, even if it was upside down. “I’m going to King’s Landing soon,” It felt like a last ditch attempt to get his attention, considering she knew nothing of the place except what she studied. “I hear there are dragon skulls under the Red Keep.”

The boy hesitated before he turned the next page. His hand fell on the dragon. “I didn’t get to see them.”

Y/N jumped up in interest. “You’ve been to the Red Keep?”

“I saw the Iron Throne. It was a long time ago,” Stannis looked toward the apples on the grass. He pressed his fingers against the paper. “I thought I saw the king.”

“You thought?”

“He was on the throne,” He said. "Robert and I thought it was him. He was far away, so I couldn't see him. Father said he wasn't the king, though."

“So who was he? Only the king can sit on the throne,” Y/N said.

“The Hand of the King can, too. That’s what father said.” Stannis then shrugged, and seemed to have lost all interest in the topic. His attention was back to the book, and another turned page.

Y/N couldn’t remember who the Hand was, and she didn’t much care, besides. But to have him talking this much after days of avoidance felt like a great victory. She reached down to the grass and picked up two apples. “Want one?”

“It’s been on the ground.”

“But it has a skin to protect it. It’s not that dirty.” She rubbed at it with her dress, as if that would help.

“But you’re going to eat it skin and all. Right?”

“It’s really not dirty.” Y/N sighed. She took a bite to prove her point, and Stannis frowned again, which made her giggle. “It’s good! Promise!” She said with a mouthful of fruit.

Stannis hesitated, then took one of the apples. She was about to warn him that the green ones were especially sour, but he bit into it and looked back at the book, chewing as if it tasted fine.

“Does that… taste good?”

Stannis looked at her like she asked if water was wet. She asked again, “Aren’t they sour?”

“No.”

“Let me try it.”

“No. This is mine.”

“Now you like it and don’t think it’s dirty?” Y/N giggled in spite of herself. Stannis just looked at her with more confusion. She hopped off the bench and found herself a green apple amongst the grass. She took a large bite … then immediately regretted it, spitting the food all over the grass.

She could have missed it, but the boy laughed. It was short and he snorted a little, but it was a laugh. The funny sound made her smile. She wanted to hear it again. “Let’s see your’s, then! Hand it over.”

Y/N held out her hand, and to her surprise, Stannis threw his apple at her. She caught it easily and took a bite. This time, Y/N made a disgusted noise and immediately spat it. “That’s even more sour!”

She heard the short, funny laugh again. It was longer this time. “You’re strange,” Stannis said bluntly. “Can I have it back now?”

Y/N handed it over. She realized, as their hands brushed, that he was finally looking at her. His eyes were blue, but deep blue. They were darker than his older brother’s, and darker than the ocean they passed on the way here. “You have pretty eyes.”

Stannis’ nose wrinkled. He rubbed at his eyes, as if that would make her attention go away. Y/N laughed and explained, “Mother says if you have something kind to say, and it’s truthful, you ought to say it.”

“Oh.” Stannis pressed his lips together. He couldn't think of much to say to that, so he turned back to his book. Y/N worried she had lost his interest entirely.

“Can you read that book out loud?” She asked quickly.

“Why?”

“I’m interested in it, and I like being read to.” She fell over in the grass, lied on her back and stretched out. “Please?”

“You’re still strange,” Stannis said, but he turned a page and began reading aloud anyway.

While the Baratheon boy read a history of Old Valyria, Y/N tumbled in the grass, threw apples so hard they smashed against the stone, and lifted herself up on her hands. Once in a while he'd stop to watch her, then go back to his book. Y/N would ask questions and Stannis would answer in spite of his obvious annoyance at being interrupted. She couldn't be sure how long they spent like that, but eventually, she ran out of fruit to toss or eat.

"I'm going to pick more apples. You should come with me, Stannis."

He turned to the wall that was splattered with them. "So you can waste more food?"

"I'll eat these ones, promise. Come with me?" It was a rare day in Dorne when her big eyes and pitiful voice didn’t give Y/N her way, but this boy seemed quite immune. He stayed put.

"Staaaannis!"

The shouting came from far off in the orchard. Y/N noted how Stannis' expression fell, and he closed his book. He stared out into the trees until Robert burst forward, pushing several branches out of the way. "There you are," he said, then noticed Y/N. "Oh, you're here too."

"What are you shouting about?" Y/N said.

The older boy huffed. "I always have to go looking for Stannis when he's being strange. Supper is ready soon, so we have to go back. This way.”

They walked back through the winding orchards. Robert had a long, wooden training spear with him, and he was enjoying knocking apples off the branches and hitting them before they touched the ground. Y/N wondered why he was allowed to have all these weapons, considering how Oberyn only ever took his spear to training or while traveling.

Robert hit one of the apples awkwardly, and it almost pelted Y/N in the shin. She jumped out of the way. “Watch where you’re swinging,” She said. “You’re waving it around like a stick, not a spear.”

“What would you know about spears?” The older boy retorted.

“I know Oberyn uses a real one, and he doesn't swing it like that."

Robert stuck his tongue out at her. “A stupid girl wouldn’t know what it’s supposed to look like. You aren’t meant to use spears.”

“Well, women in Dorne know how to use them.”

“No, they don’t.”

They stopped in the orchard, glaring at each other. Stannis almost ran into Y/N, but quickly backed away. He started, “You shouldn’t…”

“I bet I could learn that spear and use it better than you in half the time.” Y/N flared. To which Robert quickly responded, “A girl couldn’t learn to do it at all. They aren’t supposed to fight, the lords do that.”

“I could fight you right now!”

“You can try!”

Y/N and Robert moved even closer, and he didn’t think to swing the wooden spear at her until she tried to reach for it.

“You shouldn’t fight.” Stannis said again. His voice wasn’t being heard at all. He flexed his hands into fists, then flattened them out, pressing them against his tunic. “We need to —”

Y/N pointed toward one of the towering apple trees above them. “If we can't fight, then I bet I could beat you to the top of that tree!”

“Is that a joke?” Robert yelled back. “I climb them all the time! You’re too slow, you’re in a dress.”

“Afraid I’ll win?”

She was already running for a trunk, and Robert shouted after her, following at her footsteps. Y/N swung herself up onto one of the branches, propelling herself forward with sheer spite and determination, even if her dress was already getting caught.

Stannis ran to the tree, looking up at them. His book was forgotten on the grass as he shielded his eyes from the sun. “You need to get down!” He said. “You’ll fall! Mother said we shouldn’t —”

“Be quiet, Stannis!” Robert shouted from the trees.

“Don’t yell at him!” Y/N called back.

Stannis frowned and sat back in the grass. He narrowly avoided being hit by an apple, and watched them climb higher.

Princess Amira brought a teacup to her lips, taking in the delicious scent of a tea that wasn't horribly floral. Most Westerosi - especially those Reachmen - had a poor sense of good tea, but it seems Lord Baratheon was fond of the more unusual Essosi flavors. She took an approving drink and set it down. "Thank you for allowing my family to stay another evening, my lord."

"You needn't thank me, it's a delight to have them." Lord Steffon beamed. She knew he was speaking the truth, because the man so rarely hid his expressions. His lady wife was much the same. She touched her stomach as she said, "It's wonderful to have met your children. They are all so well-spoken and handsome to look upon."

"Oh, yes. Oberyn is my talker, Elia is my beauty, and Y/N is my little sun."

"Just so, she's an energetic girl. Reminds me of Robert." Lord Steffon said.

The Princess was glad for the conversation to turn toward that subject so quickly. Robert was much as she heard - just like his father in looks and vigor, though arguably more dull. They were both Baratheons in every sense of the word, for better or for worse. Amira sensed an interesting future for that boy.

"I understand Robert is ten now. It won't be long before he's a man grown. I'm sure you have all manner of valuable marriage prospects to consider."

"Oh," Lady Cassana's pretty lips parted. "No, not quite. He's still young."

"There will be plenty of that in a few years' time." Lord Steffon chuckled. "I'll have to keep the girls off him. Or perhaps it’ll be the other way around!"

He laughed, and Lady Cassana gently hit his shoulder as she tittered. Princess Amira kept her expression even, a slight smile and steady eyes. She reminded herself this man was cousin and friend to King Aerys, and surely that was the only reason he was on the small council. He was boyhood friends with Tywin, so they say. I wonder if that still holds true.

"One can never be too prepared for arrangements, my lord, as my late husband oft told me. It’s been on my mind as of late; Elia is exactly that age.”

Lady Cassana nodded in understanding. She asked, "Yes, sweet Elia must be courted night and day. If I might pry, is that why you're visiting King's Landing?"

Her husband added with a grimace, "That's the only reason I would think. That place is as tiresome and deceitful as they come."

"Very true, my lord, and your lady is most observant. Elia is excited for the balls, and I won't turn down a suitable lady who catches my eye. Prince Doran is still in need of a wife."

My Elia could've been at Casterly Rock by now. The Princess' bitter thoughts cut through. She kept them from showing on her face, but it was an effort. I tried, dear Joanna, but that arrogant man you married …

When the conversation drifted toward the balls and general merriment of the Red Keep, Lord Steffon stood, stretched out and said he ought to leave the ladies to their talks. Kissing Lady Cassana on the cheek meant he missed the way Princess Amira's expression stiffened at the comment. When he left, she had schooled herself back into amiable grace. Lady Cassana reached for the teapot, but Princess Amira insisted she ought to not strain herself.

As she refilled their cups, Lady Cassana said, "You know, we were considering sending Robert to the Eyrie to foster."

"The Eyrie?" Princess Amira feigned surprise. She heard a Stark boy was, as well. Lord Arryn was a capable man, at least. "Goodness, that is far from home."

"That's what I told Steffon. I don't like the idea of my son being so far, but Lord Arryn is such a good man. He's calm and Robert needs a�� steady influence like that."

When Lady Cassana was unsure, she tilted her head just so, making a few brown ringlets fall around her shoulder. Princess Amira found it an endearing, if not girlish, trait. It was no surprise she found a husband, but it was a lucky match to have a Lord Paramount.

"Indeed. Boys that age need such guidance. When he's older, he'll need equal guidance in the form of a steady wife."

Lady Cassana nodded. "Oh yes, indeed. Perhaps one day.”

Seeing no sense in pushing the issue further, Princess Amira easily changed the subject. Perhaps these stubborn stags would change their mind when she returned from King's Landing in triumph. It would be a grand match, a great event... and as close as Lord Baratheon - Master of Ships - was to King Aerys, the festivities would rub off on him. Marriage beget marriages, or at least, planted ideas.

And who was there for him to choose? Hoster Tully’s girls, whom he’d never give up without something significant in return? That Stark girl, far in the North, whose father was a stranger to both him and King Aerys? Oh, perhaps his dear childhood friend and Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister, could spare his perfect golden girl… and Lord Steffon would receive a sharp, harsh reminder about the proud natures of Lions.

Yes, there was only one, obvious choice for their Robert. With time, and gentle influence, they would see that.

Another easy calm settled upon the two women as they decided between enjoying more tea or move to the gardens for a short walk. The decision was interrupted by a terrible, loud shriek that came from the open window. Lady Cassana gasped and dropped her cup, shattering it on the stone.

Princess Amira stood at once, running toward the window. Between the fruit trees, she saw two children standing over a girl on the ground. She was dressed in red and orange. “My little sun!”