Work Text:
Word Count: 446
A Lion in Stag's Clothing
The crown prince was the image of his father in youth. It was all anyone said. Robert seemed to connect with his eldest unlike he could with his youngest two. Despite the bond between father and son, the eldest prince seemed disinterested in his father’s habits. The prince disliked wines and meads that dim the mind. The prince did not glance at simpering maidens who fawned at his title.
His uncles, Stannis and Renly Baratheon were hardly present in his childhood. Uncle Renly was too jovial, another version of his father in the making, in his mind. His uncle Stannis was a great bore, although the man always looked at Steffon with approval in his eyes. While his uncles were an annoyance, neither were so annoying as his uncle Tyrion, Renly had at least proven himself useful in his proposal to extend a branch to have Steffon betrothed to one Lady Margaery Tyrell of the Reach. A maiden of a rich house that would provide the kingdoms with their armies and grain through the promise of marriage. If only his father could be dissuaded from trying to betroth his heir to one of Lord Eddard Stark’s daughters. A daughter who brought no grain or great armies of protection of the kingdoms as the Reach would.
As he rode beside his father through the gates of Winterfell, Prince Steffon’s gaze took in each of his future subjects of the North and found himself smiling. Dismounting after his father, Steffon awaited his mother and siblings to exit the royal carriage. His mother’s cool gaze and practiced smile swept over his appearance in acceptance, a more recent expression from his mother that still unsettled him.
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Prince Steffon stood in the Iron Throne room as his father departed for some forsaken hunt, a hunt that should his cousin prove himself, be the king’s last hunt. Lord Eddard had become a thorn and no longer amusing. His daughters were even less amusing, already the prince had secured his alliances. His betrothal to the demure Stark girl would not last long, along with Lord Stark’s position as Hand.
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“Your mother confessed to incest, your siblings are born of incest, they are not your father’s seed.”
The prince wondered why Lord Eddard had come to him directly, his father was within hours of death and instead Lord Eddard sought to position him against his family.
“While I have father’s blood, my lord, the lack of his blood in my brother and sister matter not, they are my blood.”
Lord Eddard’s next words saved his head and as well as the lives of his daughters, but war followed regardless, stag against stags.