Chapitre 14: Looming Clouds Of War
"Damn that whore… she got away!" Robert Baratheon roared in the middle of the court, slamming his fists into a table. "Ned, call all the bloody banners! I want to see every lord in the Realm who is sworn to me, their bannermen and every sword they can provide here in King's Landing! The Lannisters will burn for their deception, every last one of them!"
I watched the whole scene, chilling to the side.
All the banners?
Shit was about to get real.
War… war was a different animal. Sure, I had my first taste of a real battle but I faced a rather small force. The Lannister guards were no army. Though, my earlier experience certainly gave me confidence that I could contribute greatly to a battle… even turn the tides single handedly in the right scenario.
For the sake of predicting what would happen, I got myself a map of the Seven Kingdoms and pieces resembling the Realm's forces. There were three Lions, one representing Tywin and the other two were his sons. Three stags, the Baratheons. Two wolves, Eddard and Robb Stark, etc.
'Jaime and Tywin would likely proceed similarly to canon until later… with Jaime smashing the Riverlands army and besieging Riverrun.' I moved his piece accordingly. 'Tywin Lannister would also likely act out Mummer's Ford and take out Beric… while moving in to conquer the Riverlands.'
'With Robert Baratheon calling the banners, the North, Crownlands, Stormlands and most of the Riverlands would come to support him. The Vale would have no excuse to avoid fighting the Lannisters given that they suspect that they plotted Jon's death and it is Robert who's calling the banners. Some lords would certainly want to fight for him. Though, the Riverlands don't have too much to offer as they're under siege.'
'Given that the fighting is against the Lannisters, the Martells and Tyrells may or may not join in. The Tyrells would send a decent fighting force, at the very least. They wouldn't openly question Robert's rule… besides that, Renly and Stannis would be supporting their brother. They have no reason to rebel. The Tyrells would likely try to gain Robert's hand through Margaery, given that he has pretty much divorced Cersei. If that fails, they would probably try to get mine. After all… they want to be closer to the throne. Also, through the Baratheon-Florent bloodties, several Reach houses like Florent, Hightower and Tarly would support Robert strongly.'
'House Greyjoy wouldn't act against Robert, given what happened the last time. The Realm is a bit too stable for that.'
'Suffice to say, the Lannisters are fucked.'
The door suddenly opened, surprising me slightly.
"There you are, boy." Robert Baratheon walked up to my table, observing my war plans. Well… they weren't exactly war plans. Who would listen to an eleven-year-old when Robert Baratheon was leading the charge? "Ah, are you attempting to predict the battles to come?"
"Something like that." I nodded. "I predict that the Lannisters would split into two forces, one led by Ser Jaime and the other by Lord Tywin. Ser Jaime would be eager to take Riverrun directly, cutting through their defences and routing them to the castle. Meanwhile, Lord Tywin would likely work with Ser Gregor to eliminate Beric Dondarrion's force and cause further chaos in the region."
"Hmm… that is a brilliant observation. I could very well see it playing out." Robert Baratheon nodded, resting his hands on the table as he leaned in. "So what would you do with the royal forces to counter them?"
Surely, he knew what to do. He was testing me.
"Casterly Rock is an impenetrable fortress… under no circumstances should we allow the Lannisters to run back to it. If that happens, this war would take far longer and may even end in a stalemate despite our superior forces. That said, waiting for all the banners to arrive isn't an option. We take south, going along the goldenroad and gathering them along the way. The Deep Den is the sole castle worth mentioning on the path to Lannisport. We take it and keep moving, crushing whatever forces the Lannisters could be mustering in their mainland. Then… we block off Casterly Rock and cause chaos in the Westerlands."
I looked up, seeing his expression. Well… I hadn't thought of much further than that but the road ahead was pretty clear.
"What of the two Lannister armies?" He questioned, stroking his beard.
"The idea is that the North and Vale banners would join together and force the Lannisters to break the siege. That would then lead to more of the Riverlords joining the conflict and the Lannisters being forced to take refuge in a fortress that isn't Casterly Rock, likely the Golden Tooth. Even then… I don't think it would be large enough for their entire army. By then, they won't have all that much left."
"The Reach lords would have joined the banner in Casterly Rock and then… all the armies would squash House Lannister from both sides."
"Hahaha… good, very good!" Robert laughed, moving away from the table. "You have quite the insight for war strategy, boy. You will lead the banner going to Casterly Rock."
"What…?" I raised an eyebrow, shocked.
"I was jesting!" He laughed, patting my back. "Leave blocking off Casterly Rock to the Reach banners, we will face the Lannisters directly! They won't even have the opportunity to run… I'll make certain of it. Besides that, your talent is needed at the frontline of the war. Ah…"
The door opened and Eddard Stark walked in.
"Your Grace." Eddard Stark bowed his head slightly. "Prince Edric. I've received news regarding Cersei Lanister and Lord Stannis."
"Hmm… good. Edric, there will be time to discuss these matters at a later date. Why don't you take this short time of peace to know your betrothed better? After this, you will be away for quite some time."
"Arya Stark?" I shrugged my shoulders. "I mean…"
"Do not test my patience, boy. You go and do it." Robert Baratheon ordered, almost glaring at me.
"... It would help if I knew where she was."
"Ned, show him. I'll be waiting here."
"As you wish." Eddard Stark turned back and I reluctantly followed.
~
The court had changed a lot in a short period of time. Every known Lannister ally and rebel was chained and thrown into the dungeons, including Grand Maester Pycelle. Quite a few of them were already scheduled to be executed as examples of what would happen to the rest in the future. Some of the more important ones remained as prisoners.
Despite the fact that the Lannisters were about to be swarmed, I had a bad feeling about the war to come. It was likely that the royal forces outnumbered them 2 to 1, if not more… but the problem lay in the fact that Robert Baratheon acted like he was still the Demon of the Trident. His supreme confidence in victory, while somewhat deserved, was concerning. He was way too out of shape, a great deal older and his mind didn't seem to be in the right place after he found out the truth. He wanted to attack them head on… without much more to it in terms of strategy.
I mean, imagine being him… for all those years, he was led on by Cersei Lannister. I'd be fucking pissed too.
I think at this point, the only thing keeping him going is Eddard Stark being here. Maybe my presence, a little. Though, I wouldn't consider us particularly close.
I needed Robert Baratheon to live long enough for me to succeed him smoothly.
"Lord Eddard…" I broke the silence as we continued to traverse the Red Keep. "Regarding my betrothal to Arya Stark, was it something you wanted? Or did my father just force you to make the arrangement?"
Eddard Stark paused, turning back slightly as he faced me. "It was his demand for you to marry one of my daughters to further bridge the gap between our houses. Breaking Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey would have been more difficult than matching you with Arya."
"I feel as if we have little in common." I remarked, shrugging my shoulders. "I certainly believe Sansa would have liked me more. Besides that, Joffrey isn't a prince anymore."
"You have more in common with Arya than you'd know." Eddard Stark smiled slightly, continuing his walk. "When you make up your minds, nothing can stop either of you. You do not hesitate to speak what lingers on your mind and both have an earnest passion for fighting."
"Doesn't that just sound like we'd end up fighting each other?" I jested, chuckling a little.
"Mayhaps… mayhaps you will conquer any enemy that comes between you together."
Eddard Stark remarked, opening the door to a chamber which I recognised somewhat from the show. It was pretty similar, at least from what I remembered. Inside was Syrio Forel, a slight, bald man with a beak of a nose and next to him was Arya Stark, who lowered her practice sword.
"Lord Eddard." Syrio bowed, taking a curious glance at me. "And who might that be?"
"Prince Edric." Arya Stark stated before I could reply.
"Ah." Syrio Forel smiled slightly. "Would I be disturbing a moment, if so?"
I glanced at Eddard, shrugging my shoulders. "No, you can continue with your sparring."
"I have matters to discuss with the king." Eddard Stark stated, patting my shoulder before walking away. "Behave well, Arya."
"Behave well…" Arya Stark muttered, pouting slightly. "Like I have to."
"I heard a little about you." I took a look at Syrio Forel. "You were once the First Sword of Braavos, weren't you?"
"The boy is knowledgeable." Syrio remarked, nodding slightly. "And you were once the champion of the melee, becoming the youngest knight in history… as I recall. You have the eyes of a warrior, a fierce warrior. I can see why you would defeat so many men."
He turned and went to grab another wooden sword, tossing it to me.
I grabbed it… though I was uncertain of what he was getting at. Did he want to fight me?
"Share a dance with me, Prince. I wish to see how much grace you have." He raised his sword, aiming it at my throat from several steps away. "There is a chance you may learn from me, as well."
"Lord Eddard doesn't pay you to teach me how to fight." I remarked, frowning slightly.
"Consider it a free lesson, Prince. Further payments are always welcome." Syrio Forel smiled, stepping closer. "Well? Will you fight?"
"Hmph… what, are you scared to be embarrassed?" Arya Stark spoke with a rather rude tone, seemingly looking down at me. "Seems to me like you're only good with the bow and warhammer."
"Fine, but I don't dance with my opponents. I tend to beat them."
I raised my wooden sword and engaged in a duel with Syrio Forel, charging first. He stepped to the side, evading my attack and countering with two swift blows to the head… both of which I evaded with hyper focus.
"You react swift as a cat, good. But do you move as quick as one?" Syrio Forel questioned, beginning to cut into my defence with further blows.
I blocked his attacks, though each one became harder to block than the last. His momentum was steady… never backing down.
Tap… Tap… Tap.
He hit my leg, then my chest and then slapped me across the face with his wooden sword. Shit kinda hurt.
"You were hit once and lost focus." He wagged his finger. "A fatal mistake. You are quick for your size but lack the footwork to show it. Typically the larger man relies on his strength like you do… but what if you made use of both your strength and speed?"
"..." I touched the side of my face, where I had been hit. "Let's go again."
"Can't take a loss?" Arya Stark made a snarky remark.
We clashed and I started out on the offensive, while keeping my options open for defending myself. He was quick and precise… even more so than I was. So, I relied on my strength advantage as much as I could. He had one hand behind his back, deflecting every blow with ease.
The way he fought… it was unlike anyone I had sparred with. It damn-near puzzled me as to how I was being toyed with to such a degree. I took a moment to regain my focus and confidence. He was not better than me. Perhaps, far more skilled in his way of fighting… but what about mine? The way knights fight, the way warriors defeat them.
I made a feint, drawing out his guard.
Then, I smashed my wooden sword against his after forcing him to block… pushing it to the side and punching him straight in the face with my freehand.
"Oh…" Syrio retreated a few steps, chuckling a little as some blood came out of his nose. "You fight with fury. Focus and fury, a lethal combination. That hit across the face brought out the beast within, eh?"
"Why'd you hit him so hard, you idiot?" Arya frowned deeply. She looked quite angry.
"No need." Syrio Forel raised his hand. "I was a step slow and he remained determined to fight his way… which is something I can respect."
"Sorry… I didn't mean to hit so hard." I shook my head. "In terms of your field where there is no armour and we're using wooden swords, you have me beat, yes. However, I do not see where your style would be beneficial in a real battle. I would be in full plate armour to which most swords can do very little against. One mistake and you would be crushed by my warhammer."
"Your dance is the iron dance of Westeros, strong, slow, yet effective. The hacking and hammering of the knight's dance is the most effective in battles, yes." Syrio Forel agreed, nodding. "But, in the streets, when you wear no armour… would you not wish to be swift and lethal as a viper against the knives and swords in the dark? Is there not a thing you can apply from the water dance of Braavos into your knight's dance? There is more than one way to swing a sword, boy. If you master both and apply the aspects of each where they are relevant, you may become twice as deadly."
I took a moment to let everything he said sink in. It was true, if I could learn more ways to fight, I'd be more unpredictable and versatile. Even something like being more fluid and having better footwork could benefit me in a real battle.
"I see, those are all good points." I nodded. "I do believe I can learn a thing or two from you. Though, you're Arya's teacher… not mine. I'd rather you focus on her training than mine."
"Who said I would focus on you? You are not paying me." Syrio Forel glanced to the side, where Arya stood, smiling slightly. "You have a strong, clever, boy as your betrothed. Strong and clever is rare."
"You don't care about me learning how to fight? It isn't very lady-like, everyone keeps telling me." Arya Stark remarked, looking at me with her grey eyes. I thought they were pretty. "It doesn't matter what you say… but-"
"My lady can do as she likes." I replied, smiling as I tilted my head. "You can paint, you can dance, you can sing. You can become a fighter, if that's what you wish. I don't have a problem with a lady knowing how to protect herself."
"... That's good. You're not stupid."
'This girl…' I smiled slightly. "Proceed like it's a normal lesson."
~
I ended up becoming Syrio Forel's second student, in addition to improving my bond with Arya Stark. Syrio Forel convinced me to do the same training as Arya, from balancing to footwork. I ended up doing some acrobatics which a person my size usually isn't caught doing. Most of it wasn't actually even that foreign to me - I had practised boxing in my first life. It was different when I was over six foot tall, though.
Given that the gang was away, I had nothing else to do. I did take a peek at the royal library, taking note of all the books that intrigued me. Other than that, I proceeded with my usual physical training and practised the way I usually did. One of those days, Arya Stark decided that she wanted to see how I trained. Naturally, I obliged.
The first thing I did was a run around the field, a simple eight hundred metres to get me going. Arya Stark followed along, slightly struggling to keep pace with my long strides. For the second attempt, I put on a full set of plate armour and ran for the same distance. Arya, again, kept up with some difficulty.
"How do you run so fast in full armour?" She questioned. "And why do you train in it?"
"Plate armour isn't as heavy as you think." I replied, taking a breather. "Wearing it does make moving require more energy, however, which makes any form of training more intense. As for the reason why… well, I'd be wearing a full set of armour in a real battle, wouldn't I? It would be best to train with it so that I'm as ready as I could be."
Next up, I did a hundred situps and a hundred pushups while wearing the armour. Yes… I was putting myself through hell. It was difficult, sure, but I had pushed myself so many times before. This Baratheon body was durable as a motherfucker.
Arya Stark followed along, though her form wasn't up to par. I mean… these exercises weren't exactly known, by the looks of things.
Then I did some lifting involving my warhammer, practising it with either hand. It still felt abnormally heavy so I was able to get a good workout out of that…
…
After several hours of vigorously exercising my entire body while wearing plate armour, I laid down on the field… breathless and sweating all over. There were so many times I wanted to relax and take it easy but everytime it happened I thought of Raiden Shogun. If I took it easy, how could I hope to be the one to crush the Great Other? How could I hold her in my arms? The answer was I couldn't and I knew it, continuously pushing myself to the limit.
At some point, Arya Stark decided to just observe, no longer being capable of keeping up. I looked to the side, realising that I had gathered a little crowd of observers, including Sansa Stark. I had been so focused I didn't even see my surroundings…
"Did you invite your sister and all those other ladies?" I slowly got up, wiping the sweat off my forehead after I took off my helmet.
"No." Arya Stark looked just as surprised as I was. "Why are you here?"
"Just wanted to see how Prince Edric prepares for battles… am I not allowed to?"
"Sure." Arya Stark scoffed.
"Of course, you're allowed." I smiled, tilting my head. "Your beautiful presence inspires me to push myself further."
"..." She blushed cherry red for a moment. "I'm glad to hear that."
"I would talk to you more but I stink worse than Flea Bottom at the moment." I chuckled, walking past her. "Quite the opposite of the Knight of Flowers, huh. That bastard always smells like flowers."
"You know him?" She followed me. "Besides that, your smell is the product of hard work. You shouldn't be shamed for it."
"Oh, I should be if I'm making life worse for everyone else. Hell, I stink for myself." I laughed, keeping my pace. "As for Ser Loras, I knew him for some years in Storm's End. We weren't the best of friends but we had a mutual respect for each other. I like to think that we did, anyway."
"How was it living in Storm's End… do you miss it?" Sansa questioned.
"Sorely." I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "Storm's End… it just feels like my home. Like a true Stark and Winterfell, as a Baratheon, no place feels more natural to me."
"I prefer King's Landing to Winterfell." Sansa Stark remarked, smiling slightly. "You would never see an event as grand as the Hand's Tourney in Winterfell. The weather is far kinder, too. Not that I mind the cold."
"I'd hate the cold snow." I remarked, chuckling. "I'm a summer boy, always have been. You're not forced to wear additional clothing, you can see nature blossoming and the nights… ah, warm nights are my favourite."
"I'd love to see you shivering in Winterfell." Arya Stark remarked, albeit in a playful tone.
"I'm convinced Arya will never be a proper lady-"
"I don't have to be." Arya countered Sansa. "Besides that, Prince Edric encourages me to learn to defend myself. If he doesn't mind it… why should you?"
"It's not all about your silly water dancing." Sansa Stark shook her head. "You can know how to fight and still act like a lady. It's not all that difficult to be courteous, graceful and kind."
"Not all that difficult, says the lady." Arya Stark frowned. "Everything you do is lady-like and pretty."
"..."
The two sisters stared at each other.
"... I like to think that everyone has their strengths and weaknesses." I stated, shrugging my shoulders. "For instance, Ser Loras is prettier than me, certainly smells better than me and he is twice as graceful with everything he does. The ladies all cling to him - they can't help it. He'd likely defeat me if we competed in a joust. Alternatively, I'd defeat him if we were to fight seriously. From afar or within arm's reach, dismounted or mounted. I'd completely crush him."
"I think it would be a harder fight than you think." Sansa Stark replied, shaking her head.
"That's what you think."
I smiled.
"Edric would crush flowerboy with one swing." Arya remarked. "Where was he in the melee? I didn't see Loras anywhere. I don't see him training like Edric does."
"Well, he's someplace else. I'm certain he practises plenty to be as good as he is." Sansa Stark replied.
~
After a chat, I finally made it to where I needed to go. I took a nice long, steamy, bath. There were certainly benefits to being a prince and living in King's Landing. I had access to the best resources in regards to most things, from trainers, equipment, connections to even things as simple as baths. Sure, there were some in Storm's End but none of them could be compared with the ones in King's Landing.
Once I was done with getting myself nice and clean, I got dressed in all black and made my way to the main hall to see what was going on. As I looked to the side… I noticed a woman with golden hair which I recognised well.
She stood alongside all three of her children, her arms wrapped around Joffrey. She didn't seem to want to let go. Joffrey Baratheon looked truly terrified as Robert Baratheon looked down on them all from the steps of the Iron Throne.
Behind them, stood a badling, tall and muscular man whom I recognised to be Stannis Baratheon. With him, stood the red priestess Melisandre. She was taller than most men, although a bit shorter than Stannis and she still had the slender grace of a lady. She had full breasts, a narrow waist and a heart-shaped face. She was beyond beautiful… even I couldn't help but feel charmed just by looking at her. Her hair was sun-kissed red, alongside that she had a set of unsettling red eyes which were scanning the entire court… suddenly landing on me.
They widened, almost staring into my soul. Then she smiled… looking away.
'She has no right being that sexy.' I thought to myself. 'No right.'
"I have brought the Lannisters who tried to escape, Your Grace." Stannis Baratheon pushed forward Cersei Lannister who practically growled at him as she turned. She looked to have been roughened up recently.
What were the chances I stumbled right into this scene?
"Good… very good!" Robert laughed as he stepped down, his eyes full of fury. He stared right at Cersei Lannister… who didn't even dare meet his gaze. He eventually reached her, grabbing her by the chin. "You won't even face me… golden whore!"
SMACK.
He slapped her clean across the cheek, leaving a clear red mark.
While hitting a lady was dishonourable… Cersei's crime was equally not something that could ever be overlooked. Robert Baratheon was well within his right to beat the life out of her. That was the crime of adultery these days. Unlike in modern times, where cheaters got away with practically anything. One thing I can never respect is cheating on the person you married.
"You are fortunate that Jaime left… he would have cut you into pieces." Cersei Lannister remarked, turning to face him.
"I'd welcome that golden cunt to try his luck against me any day he wishes." Robert Baratheon frowned at his 'children'. "No wonder they all looked like you and your bloody brother. None with black hair or blue eyes… how could I have been so blind and ignorant? Take those bastards away…"
"You can't-" Cersei struggled but before she could blink, all of her children were dragged away.
They didn't give much of a fight, even Joffrey looked demoralised… like his whole world had shattered before him. He had genuinely believed that he was Robert's son, the poor boy. I almost felt pity for him. Almost.
"Someone fetch me a bloody warhammer." Robert Baratheon ordered, stepping back as he grabbed a drink. "Restrain the whore and keep her still."
Stannis stepped away, observing the guards putting her down. He had a cold, indifferent, expression. Renly Baratheon seemed a little cheerful for the execution to come, smiling as always. Eddard Stark didn't seem to like where this was going but he kept silent… knowing that Robert wouldn't hear anything he had to say in regards to Cersei Lannister.
Soon enough, someone returned with a nice new warhammer for Robert to wield. He grabbed it and observed the weapon with a slight frown.
"Good enough!" He stepped closer to Cersei Lannister, raising his weapon. "Any last words you would like to share, golden whore?"
"You won't live for much longer after killing me, Robert Baratheon. You will fall from a poisoned cup, stray arrow or even better - my brother will come marching down and sever your hideous head from your stinking, fat body. All you'll have for an heir is a bastard boy from some Florent wench…"
"Like the ones you supposedly gave me?" Robert Baratheon chuckled, although he was very clearly pissed. "I'll splatter Jaime's head just like yours and your father's too, when the time comes. I'll smash that cursed house straight into the bloody ground and keep it down there. House Lannister will never know true power again… because of your stupidity. Quite the legacy to have, Cersei."
"And you, as a king… will never have a trueborn son." Cersei Lannister replied, smiling. "Or daughter, for that matter. All bastards, isn't that wonderful?"
"I will be the only king to have an Edric as my son." Robert Baratheon smiled. "Bastard or not, he is of my blood. As for you… the best you produced is a cunt like Joffrey. I'd have more shame."
"Edric… the boy has no love for you. Amusingly enough, he admires Jaime more than he admires you. Isn't that funny? Your heir doesn't even wish to be king, he said it before the entire court and yet you continue forcing him down a path he doesn't want to walk." She turned to me. "If you take Robert's life now, you won't need to ever be King. I know you didn't fire your arrow when we escaped King's Landing when you could have-"
"It was Prince Edric who sent the message for me to gather my men in preparation for a Lannister attack… or retreat from King's Landing." Stannis Baratheon countered. "Without his message, capturing them at sea would have been far less probable."
"... You… traitor." Her emerald eyes did not look so warm.
"Traitor?" I tilted my head. "My loyalty is to the Realm."
Robert raised his warhammer.
"Enough lies, you stupid whore!"
SMASH.
He smashed her head straight down into the ground, raising his warhammer to strike again… and again… and again.
SMASH.
SMASH.
SMASH.
SMASH.
"Enough…" Eddard Stark grabbed his arm.
"No… I'm not finished!"
SMASH.
SMASH.
SMASH.
By the time he was done, her head was splattered all over the place. It was a horrific display of brutality. Not even Renly Baratheon was smiling by the end.
"I want the body taken to Tywin Lannister as a gift." Robert Baratheon glanced at Eddard Stark, taking some quick breaths as he stepped away from the corpse. "Tell him to face me in the field or I'll do the same to the Lannister bastards."
Afterwards, Robert Baratheon went to talk to me alongside Stannis.
"Isn't he my mirror image when I was young?" Robert smiled, wrapping his arm around my neck. "You said Edric was the one who informed you?"
"He sent his companions on a ship to Dragonstone to inform me directly as he didn't trust anyone to send a raven." Stannis Baratheon nodded. "It seems that he predicted that the Lannisters would try to either seize power or escape."
"He fought bravely in the battle at King's Landing, too." Robert Baratheon smiled, stroking his beard. "One-and-ten and already so cunning with the combat prowess to match. Certainly, I was not wrong in my choice in legitimising Edric. It may even be the finest decision I made in my reign."
"He is a prodigy, indeed." Stannis acknowledged. "Cortnay Penrose and Renly have always sung his praises."
"Is that your red priestess I've been hearing so much about, brother?" Renly Baratheon approached the group with a slight grin. "I can see why you fancy her so much."
"Red priestess? One of those R'hllor fanatics?" Robert Baratheon raised an eyebrow, laughing. "I had thought that you never liked women, brother. But here you are… having one right at your tail."
"She has great power." Stannis Baratheon remarked. "I would not be so quick to underestimate her."
"... It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace." Melisandre bowed her head slightly. "And Prince Edric… you were born on Dragonstone, were you not?"
She seemed to stare at me.
"Nice to meet you too. And yeah, I was." I almost mumbled. 'Shit, am I losing my cool? What if she's an old hag like in the show? Yeah, if I imagine her as that, I should be fine…'
"Interesting." Melisandre remarked.
"What might be so interesting about Dragonstone?" Robert Baratheon laughed.
"It is a place of salt and smoke, parts of a sacred prophecy." Melisandre replied, smiling slightly. She didn't take offence to Robert's lack of respect. "As of recent, the Lord of Light's flames only showed a great storm."
"Nonsense 'Lord of Light'… all he's good for is fire tricks." Robert scoffed, turning away. "I need some wine."
"Storm?" Renly raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "How in Seven Hells do you see a storm through fire?"
He joined Robert's side, walking away. Melisandre glanced at Stannis and he, too, stepped away. That left me awkwardly looking at her.
"You seem particularly interested in me. Might I ask why?"
"Your bastard name was Storm and you spent most of your youth in Storm's End. Besides that, you were struck by lightning - twice - and survived. Not only did you survive, you came from it stronger than before. There have been several incidents where you strongly relate to a storm… even calling upon one, so some have proclaimed." Melisandre smiled, her gaze making me feel some type of way. "You are truly special, Edric. Even at such a tender age… you have accomplished what countless men can only dream of."
"I might just blush if you keep singing my praises." I remarked, turning away. "I have a feeling that you will be a vital ally in my quest. My greatest goal is to defeat a certain Other, after all."
"... So you know." She smiled, caressing the side of my face with her soft hands. "We will be seeing each other often moving forward, Prince Edric."
"Certainly."
Her magic should be quite helpful.
I think I have a thing for redheads now… or maybe it's just Melisandre. Probably just Melisandre. Or rather, the magic she uses.
"Since you no longer have a wife, brother…" Renly Baratheon smiled. "Why don't you wed Margaery Tyrell? Some say she looks like a young Lyanna Stark and she certainly is from a rich house, the Tyrells could give you a hundred thousand swords to kill all the treacherous Lannisters. The war would be won before it even began!"
"So I could have 'trueborn' children?" Robert Baratheon scoffed, drinking more wine. "I will not marry another bloody woman, I have my heir already. The Tyrells are sworn to me, are they not? They should offer those swords regardless!"
"Well, they would be far more passionate if the queen was a Tyrell." Renly Baratheon replied, shrugging his shoulders.
"Hmph… why don't you marry her?"
"... Well, I'm no King." Renly Baratheon chuckled. "Mayhaps you could wed Margaery to Edric instead. They are closer in age, after all."
"...I will hear no more of this foolish matter. Edric is sworn to Arya Stark and that is my final say regarding his hand."
I left the court after hearing that, deciding to grab a book to read. I calmly read through some accounts of Garth Greenhand, the 'god' who seemingly fathered damn near every house in the Reach for quite a while.
I ended up taking a look at the sign on my left hand before going to sleep. It was still strange being without Raiden Shogun to talk to. I don't think I could ever get used to it.
'I miss you more than you could know…'
The song 'Let Her Go' probably would express my emotions the best. When someone is around you all the time, you tend to take them for granted. When you have plentiful of something… you forget its value until it slips through your fingers.
I smiled slightly.
'I don't even know how long it's going to be until I can even be King. I mean… as soon as Robert dies, I'm going to have to succeed him. But I don't want him to die too soon. I need him to show me the ropes of the whole ruling thing before I do it myself.'
'Unless he does something stupid, it'll be a while…'
'All I can do is my best, in the end.'
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone