章節 3: Chapter 3
Hi all, and welcome to chapter 3! I'm having so much fun writing this story, so I always feel the need to update. I'm also glad people are responding to Steffon as a character well. I'll admit, I was a bit skeptical of my own character, but he seems to have won people over.
I should mention as well that it won't all be smooth sailing for Steffon and his allies though. We all know that Tywin isn't a man who goes down easily, and he knows that Steffon won't be easy to manipulate, especially given his relationship with Joffrey. What's more is that Steffon WILL come out second best during some of the battles in the war. We have to remember that for his skill at command, he is still just a teenager and inexperienced in battle.
But anyway, here we have the feast and the morning after. We're picking up almost immediately where chapter 2 left off So please enjoy!
As Steffon wandered across the courtyard to Winterfell's Great Hall in preparation for the feast the Starks were hosting, he noticed that both his mother and father seemed to be getting everyone organised. This surprised him; normally they rarely cooperated, but it seemed they were making an effort to line up both their own children and the Starks too. He noticed Sansa holding Joffrey's arm, still making goo-goo eyes at him, and a very unhappy-looking Arya who had somehow been forced into a dress, even though Steffon could tell she hated it.
"Steffon, you'll be escorting in Arya." Said Robert. Tentatively, Steffon offered Arya his arm. She refused at first, but after some scolding from Septa Mordane (who was also there), she reluctantly took his arm. Behind them, Bran was to escort Myrcella in and the she had already taken his arm, quite eagerly too. Cersei had noticed this and frowned. She did not want her beautiful golden-haired daughter falling for a barbaric Northern boy. She had approved of Sansa though. The poor girl was so naive it was almost painful. She'd be far too easy to manipulate.
As Robert and Cersei led the small party in Robb, who was already seated, noticed (with a grin on his face of course) that Arya was looking rightly miffed at having to be escorted by the Crown Prince's younger brother. Steffon for his part, was afraid that Arya might break his arm at any given moment. The two eventually found out (much to their joint horror) that they had been seated next to each other. They reluctantly sat down, consciously avoiding each others' gaze as they began to eat. Steffon got tired of the awkwardness quickly, and decided to strike up a conversation.
"You and your sister don't seem to get along much" He said nervously.
"I hate her. She's been nothing but mean to me. The same goes for her friend Jeyne Poole" Arya responded. Just as the awkwardness threatened to set in again, Arya had a great idea. "Down that whole cup of wine in one go. No spilling or stopping." She said, smirking.
"Oh you're on, wolf!" He said, before grabbing his cup and successfully downing it in one go, without spilling or stopping. He set the cup down, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and grinning at Arya. "Alright, my turn. I bet you can't hit your sister from here . . . using your spoon as a catapult" He dared her. Arya promptly picked up her spoon, put a slab of meat on it, and flicked it. The slab flew straight and true . . . right onto Sansa's cheek.
"ARYA!" Sansa exclaimed. Catelyn thought about sending Robb to take Arya out of the Hall and send her off to bed early, but decided against it. She was getting along well with the Baratheon boy. Why ruin something when it was going well?
Steffon meanwhile, feeling slightly sick from his sculling of the wine, decided to step outside, where he found Tyrion and Jon conversing. He decided to approach them, just as Tyrion was giving some of his worldly advice.
"Let me give you some advice bastard: Never forget what you are. The world surely will not. Wear it like armour, and then it can never be used against you." Tyrion said. Steffon smiled. His uncle always had a kind word for anyone who was deemed an outcast. Well except for his cousin Orson Lannister. He had heard Tyrion once mention the name off-handedly in conversation once. Upon asking Jaime who Orson was, Jaime told him that Orson was a member of one of House Lannister's minor branches. Orson's wet nurse had dropped on his head and left him simple, and for the next few years Orson would regularly indulge in killing beetles. That was until he'd been kicked in the chest by a mule and killed. Tyrion had laughed at him, and Jaime told Steffon that Tyrion admitted that it was the only thing that made him feel like everyone else; laughing at someone's misery.
"Beloved nephew!" Said the half-drunk Tyrion.
"Uncle. Good to see you haven't drunk quite as much as I thought you would've." Steffon replied, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Oh I will before the night it out nephew" Tyrion said, before turning to head back inside. Steffon then turned to Jon.
"You're a fine swordsman Jon"
"Thank you Steffon. There's not many places for a bastard though." Jon replied, somewhat bitterly. A bright idea formed in Steffon's head at that moment.
"What would you say if I offered to make you my Sworn Shield? Joffrey has one, and mother's always pestering me to find one." Steffon said. A look of shock appeared on Jon's face.
"Steffon, I'm a bastard. I don't deserve such a high station-"
"Bugger that. Brynden Rivers was a bastard and he was the Hand of the King for several years." Steffon deliberately chose not to mention the King Bloodraven was the Hand to: Aerys I.
"I . . . I must think on this, my Prince." Said Jon, still stunned.
"Take all the time you must Jon. I know this decision is not a light one." Steffon said, before motioning for Jon to join him inside. Jon turned him down and went back to attacking the practice dummy.
As Steffon wandered back in, Ned looked over at Robert and nodded. Robert nodded back, both of them reaching the conclusion it was time to make the announcement.
Several hours earlier . . .
Ned had been busy organising things for the feast that night in his study when there was a knock on his door.
"Come in" He said. The door opened, revealing Steffon.
"Lord Stark. I just wanted to introduce myself properly." Said Steffon, holding out his right hand to the Warden of the North.
"Of course, my Prince." Said Ned, shaking Steffon's hand.
"Please, my name is Steffon." Steffon replied. "I also wanted to share an observation, my Lord."
"That being?"
"I heard from my father that you're planning to betroth your daughter Sansa to my brother Joffrey."
"Yes. What of it?" Asked Ned, his interest piqued.
"With all due respect my Lord, I believe it's a bad move. Joffrey is not the . . . sanest of people, shall we say." Steffon said. Ned had to know more though. For all he knew, this Prince was trying to poach Sansa for himself.
"Might you explain how, my Prince?" Ned asked.
"Very well, Lord Stark." Steffon began with a sigh "When we were younger, he would often bully Myrcella, Tommen and myself. I tried to divert most of his negative attention towards me; my younger siblings didn't need to put up with him. When I was 8, I was playing in the Red Keep courtyard with a wooden sword my uncle Stannis had just given me for my nameday. I was pretending to be my father, winning the Rebellion and taking the Iron Throne. Joffrey shoved me to the ground and told me he'd be the King and I'd be nothing. He then kicked me several times. A few years ago, Tommen had a pet cat that got pregnant; Joffey proceeded to cut open the poor thing and present it, unborn kittens and all, to father. Tommen cried for days."
As Steffon's stories of Joffrey went on, Ned's eyes widened even further. I need to discuss this with Robert he thought.
30 minutes before the feast
Robert was in the middle of one of his pre-feast drinking sessions in his temporary chambers inside the Great Keep when his door was knocked.
"Enter." Said Robert. His old friend entered.
"Ned, good to see you. What is it?" He asked.
"Robert, I have just spoken with your son Steffon. Is it true? What he told me about Joffrey? Because from where I'm standing, it seems as though the boy has an unchecked sadistic streak." Said Eddard. Robert sighed. It was always going to come to this he thought. I should've taught those two how to be proper brothers.
"Sadly Ned, whatever Steffon told you about Joffrey is true." Robert began. He then recounted all of the shocking incidents Joffrey was guilty of, causing Ned to come to what the thought was the only sane conclusion.
"I'm sorry Robert, but I cannot in good conscience allow either of my daughters to marry Joffrey."
"I may be a fool Ned, but I understand. Our houses were always meant to be joined though. How . . ." Robert trailed off, before speaking back up again "That's it. Ned, I still have my other son, Steffon. Would Sansa marry him?"
"It's unlikely. In the short time she's known him, she's already shown a marked dislike of him." Ned replied. Robert sank back into his chair, deep in thought once more, before speaking again.
"Ned, your daughter Arya; she looks a lot like Lyanna, doesn't she?" He asked. Ned, unsure where his friend was going with this, decided to humour him.
"Yes, she's definitely inherited her aunt's looks. Her attitude as well; she's more interested in swordfighting and horse riding and archery that learning how to be a lady." Said Eddard.
"And Steffon's essentially a better version of myself. He doesn't drink; doesn't like whores. Would you be willing to betroth Arya to Steffon?" Asked Robert. Ned hadn't expected this.
"Arya's determined not to get married. She's concerned she'd be losing too much of the freedom she has now."
"Not to worry on that front, Ned. Three people aide from Tommen that Steffon always makes time for are Myrcella, Tyrion and Edric Storm. A woman, a dwarf and a bastard. When I asked him why, he told me 'Why shouldn't we be equal? Aegon the Conqueror's sisters were both warriors, Brynden Rivers was Hand of the King and Tyrion's the most fun person I've met." Robert said. Ned let this sink in.
"if he truly thinks that everyone is made equal, then I have no doubt he'd make a fine husband for Arya."
"It's settled then. Steffon and Arya will be betrothed in place of Joffrey and Sansa. We'll announce it at the feast."
And that was that
Robert took center stage in the Great Hall, his loud, booming voice easily reaching everyone's ears.
"QUIIIEEEEET! Now, it has been a priority of both mine and Lord Stark's to join our illustrious houses. As a result, I am very happy to announce the betrothal of Prince Steffon Baratheon and Lady Arya Stark!" He said.
Silence entered the Hall like a shadow. Sansa's mouth was open in shock, as were Joffrey's, Robb's, Cat's and Cersei's. Steffon and Arya were frozen, as if they couldn't beleive what they had just heard.
The Hall was so deathly quiet you could've heard a pin drop. As the news began to sink in, Steffon and Arya were none too happy.
"WHAT?!"
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