Stephen Baratheon POV
"Princess." He said with a bow and the little girl stared up at him with wide innocent eyes until she was nudged by her caretaker.
"What do we say when someone greets you, Princess?" The Septa asked and little Myrcella scrunched up her brow before she looked up at him once again.
"It's nice to meet you, cousin Stephen." She said with a very flawed courtesy. But one that could easily be overlooked due to her young age.
"Aw… Aren't you just an adorable little thing." Asha said from beside him. "Are you sure you are Cersei's daughter?"
He held the urge to facepalm himself while Myrcella's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Princess, what do we do when we meet someone rude?" The Septa asked, glaring at Asha all the while.
The Princes looked down in intense thought for a moment before she turned back to her Septa. "I don't know, Septa."
The Septa sighed once again but leaned down to answer. "We ignore them. Because they aren't worth our time."
"Oi. Don't think I won't pop you one in the jaw just because you're a member of the faith." Asha threatened, but much to his surprise, the Septa only smiled back.
"I would like to see you try." She challenged and Asha clenched her fists but he stopped her before she could actually hit the Septa.
"I'm sorry, Septa. My companion can be a bit... feisty at times," he said, flashing the older woman a charming grin before turning to face Asha. "And Asha, we're guests here. You can't just go around hitting people because you didn't like what they said. Do you understand?"
Noticing the disappointment on his face, Asha pursed her lips and nodded.
He looked at the Princess once again and knelt down in front of her. "You look beautiful in that light blue dress, Princess. Mind if I add something to it?"
The little Princess tilted her head in confusion and he made a show of reaching inside his back pocket while he reached for his Inventory and took out one of the low class jewellery from Valyria.
But considering that it was from Valyria, even one of low class jewellery from there was of a much higher quality that the best of Cersei's jewelleries.
The tiara consisted of dragon glass embedded with rubies of varying sizes and countless tiny diamonds. The dragon glass had been imbued with magic to enhance its durability and had been shaped to resemble the branches of a flower, with the large rubies acting as the petals.
If he hadn't been in awe of the Valyrians already, then a jewelleries like these would've definitely done the job.
He presented the jewellery to the young Princess and heard a gasp from the Septa standing behind her. The Princess gazed at the tiara with all the focused intent a six-year-old could muster. "Do you like it, Princess?" he asked.
The Princess nodded her head enthusiastically.
"Do you want me to help you wear it?"
The Princess nodded once more and remained still as he placed the tiara on her head, entwining it with her hair to prevent it from falling off during the feast.
With a charming grin, he declared, "There. Now you look even more beautiful, Princess," causing the girl to blush slightly. She touched the tiara and gazed up at him with wide eyes until the Septa nudged her once again.
"What do we say, Princess?" the Septa inquired. He couldn't help but wonder if this woman was the reason why Myrcella turned out to be such a well-mannered lady in the Canon timeline, instead of a cold-hearted bitch like Cersei.
She gave him a flawed courtesy once again. "Thank you, cousin Stephen."
"Don't think too much on it. Let's go and attend the feast." He said and gave a nod to the Kingsguard protecting her. "You don't mind if I join along with your ward, do you Ser?"
Mandon Moore gazed back at him with his lifeless, dead eyes, offering no response to his query. With a grin, he turned to Myrcella and remarked, "A charming man, isn't he?" However, he couldn't help but ponder what Robert had been considering when he assigned someone like Mandon to safeguard his daughter.
Probably nothing, if Robert's usual decision making skills were anything to go by.
Myrcella stifled a little giggle and he smiled. "Come along now, Princess. Before we are late for the feast."
The Princess nodded and he gave his arm to Asha before leading the way.
Asha had dressed… not in the most lady like way. However, she had made an effort to appear presentable for the feast, which was likely the most he could expect from her without upsetting her.
After all, just because she was his waifu and loved him deeply did not mean that she lacked her own preferences.
Upon their arrival at the hall where the feast was taking place, he observed that the lower tables were already occupied by minor lords, knights and squires, while the servants were busy laying out food on their tables.
None of them were technically supposed to start eating until the King starts the feast, but he noticed more than a few of the younger squires sneaking pieces off the plates.
Some ladies were scattered amongst the knights and squires, accompanied by either their brother, father, or husband. However, the majority of the noble ladies who were expected to attend the feast held a higher rank and would thus be seated closer to the main dias.
As soon as he and Princess Myrcella made their way into the hall, the attendees noticed their arrival and promptly halted their activities to bow and show their respect.
He acknowledged their greetings with a smile and nod, while Myrcella stopped entirely began waving at them enthusiastically. That lasted until the Septa nudged her gently, urging her to keep moving forward.
They eventually arrived at the main Dias where his father was in deep conversation with Lord Arryn about something.
"Father. Lord Arryn." He greeted the two men with a nod before turning to the beautiful milf on Jon Arryn's side. "Lady Lysa. You're grown even more beautiful since the last time I saw you."
He kissed her knuckles and Lysa smiled at him, though only as much as was polite in their current company. "You're too kind, Prince Stephen."
"Ser Stephen." Jon Arryn corrected her. "Ser Stephen is not a member of the Royal line of House Baratheon, and is thus, not a prince."
"But everybody calls him a-" Lysa paused as Myrcella arrived at the table and then gave a motherly smile to the little girl. "Oh hello princess. And may I say that you look absolutely beautiful today. That tiara really suits you."
'Hm… Lysa has really improved her speaking skills in these past few months.' He thought with some amusement while Jon and his father briefly exchanged greetings with Asha on the side.
Neither of them liked Asha all that much. But despite their dislike, Asha was still the member of a Great House, which in itself demanded respect and common courtesy despite how much how house might have fallen recently.
Not to mention that Asha was his date, so disrespecting her would be akin to disrespecting him. And he doubted that there was a single man in Kings Landing who would want to draw his ire by disrespecting him.
So the three of them acknowledged each other briefly and formally with stoic expressions before returning to ignoring each other's presence.
He once again wondered if bringing Asha here had been the right decision, considering that she hadn't even wanted to come in the first place. Maybe Tyene or Sarella would've made for better dates?
Oh well… you can't put spilled milk back in the container and all that.
"Thank you, La-lady Lysa. Cousin Stephen gave it to me." Myrcella informed everyone and his father turned to give him a strange look.
"Did you now?" His father asked and he shrugged.
"That Jewellery looks expensive." Jon Arryn commented softly once Myrcella had gone out of earshot. "I hope you didn't beggar yourself while buying that gift for the princess."
"It is expensive, and no, I didn't beggar myself Lord Arryn." He said with a grin.
"Good," his father responded curtly. "Because once news of your gift spreads - and it will undoubtedly spread - your mother and sister will expect similarly impressive gifts."
"And rightly so," he replied. "I would be a poor son if I showered other ladies with expensive gifts while neglecting my own mother and sister." He then surveyed the large main table before inquiring, "Now, where shall I be seated?"
"Near the head of the table. To the King's left." Jon Arryn pointed out and he frowned.
"Isn't that seat usually reserved for the Queen?"
"Indeed," Jon Arryn agreed with a nod. "However, the Queen is still tending to Prince Joffrey, who has yet to fully recover from spending an entire moon confined to his bed. Neither she nor the Prince will be able to join us today. And as this feast is in honour of Prince Joffrey's recovery, you have the privilege of taking his seat as the one who successfully healed him.""
"I see." He said and noticed that more and more guests were trickling into the hall now. "How long until the feast starts?"
"That'll depend on how long His Grace takes to arrive here. Which could be anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour." Jon Arryn said.
He nodded and proceeded to take his seat on the left-hand side of the main chair, with Asha seated to his left.
He acknowledged Princess Myrcella with a nod, who was seated directly in front of him at the table, to the right of the main seat, being the eldest of the King's children present.
He made smalltalk with Asha as more and more guests arrived and filled the hall.
Tommen was exempt from having to attend the feast on account of being a toddler.
Pycelle, being a member of the Small Council, had a seat on the main table. As did Petyr Baelish who gave him a thin smile.
Baelish has been taking action in recent days, sending groups of riders away with large sums of money for unknown reasons and calling in favours from powerful allies.
However, what Baelish did not realise was that all the riders mysteriously disappeared as soon as they left King's Landing, and that he had personally visited each of his supposed allies that same night, reminding them to mind their own business.
Unbeknownst to the man, both he and Lynalle had been keeping a watchful eye on his every move. Lynalle more so than him, as she had managed to infiltrate his brothels with her own girls over the course of several moons.
A noose was slowly tightening around Baelish's neck, even if he wasn't aware of it yet.
He had the opportunity to meet the new Master of Whispers, who happened to be a distant cousin of Lord Darklyn. However, if Lynalle's findings were any indication, he was not a particularly effective spymaster, which served his purposes well enough.
The sound of a spear hitting the ground three times drew their attention to the main door of the hall, where they saw that King Robert had finally arrived. Everyone stood up as the King entered the hall, followed closely by Ser Barristan and Ser Arys Oakheart.
As the King made his way to the main table, he surveyed the room and noticed that everyone was standing in silence. With an eye roll, he exclaimed, "Bah! Sit down, all of you. Let's get this feast started already!"
After everyone had taken their seats, the King settled into his own and turned to him. "Nephew! I forgot to ask you, how was your voyage?"
'Dude… at least greet your daughter before start ignoring her in favour of talking with other people. And, oh god, eat with some manners at least. Myrcella has better table manners than you, and she's a child.' He thought inwardly but smiled at the King.
"It was wonderful, Your Grace. I got to see new places, meet new people, and learn new things," he replied, being careful not to mention any details about his trade ventures. He knew how much Robert despised and looked down upon anything related to what he called 'copper counting.'
"Indeed, that's good to hear," Robert said with a nod. Then his jovial smile disappeared, and he leaned forward on the table, causing it to groan under his great bulk, and fixed his gaze on him with a heavy scowl. "But did you do the most important thing?"
"The most important thing?" He asked, feeling a bit confused about what the man was talking about. Though knowing Robert, it probably had something to do with wine, or whores.
"Yes, did you make the Eight or not?" Robert asked seriously and as he blinked, Robert burst into laughter. "Ha! The look on your face!" Robert laughed for another few moments before he ate a large piece of meat and guzzled down a cup of wine. He took a few deep breaths and paused to glance at him. "With a face as pretty as yours, you don't even have to bother wooing maidens into your bed, do you? You just need to smile and they come crawling to your bed."
"Your grace is too kind." He said with an uncomfortable smile (his father was only a few seats away after all), and Robert scoffed.
"Too kind, he says." Robert said, gesturing at the people in the feast hall. "Half the women in this hall would rather bed you than bed me. Do you know how often that happens? Do you?"
He shook his head and Robert barked out. "Never!" Robert burst out into laughter once again before he was interrupted by a woman clearing her throat.
The Septa from earlier gave the King a disapproving look. "Your grace. Please be mindful in the presence of you children."
Huh… the woman had balls, he'll give her that.
Robert paused and scowled at the woman before he looked down at Myrcella, as if noticing her for the first time. He blinked in surprise, then winced as a look of guilt crossed his face. "Ah...yeah. How have you been, daughter?"
Myrcella, who had looked wide eyed and confused up until that point, beamed at receiving some attention from her father. "I have been good, father."
"I see. And who gave you that beautiful... thing on your head?" Robert asked, as he gazed at the jewellery on top of her head. "I don't reckon I've seen anything like that in all my life in this city."
"Cousin Stephen gave it to me!" Myrcella said cheerfully and Robert turned to give him a strange look that he couldn't decipher. He hoped that the guy wasn't angry at him or thinking that he planned to seduce his daughter or anything of that sort.
Well... he did plan to seduce her eventually, once she's older. But not when she's 6!
"He did, did he?" Robert asked and then frowned. "Do you like it?"
"I love it!" Myrcella beamed as she traced lines through her new tiara.
"That's good, that's good. Um…" Robert paused, struggling for a topic to talk about with his daughter.
"Why don't you tell your father about all the things you did today, Myrcella?" he said, stepping in when Robert wasn't able to find a proper topic after many moments.
Myrcella's eyes brightened and she eagerly shared her adventures of the day, how she visited and played with her baby brother Tommen. Robert gave him a grateful nod as he turned his attention back to his daughter.
—
"Thoros!" The King boomed, his voice carrying easily through the boisterous feast hall. "Come. Let's drink together!"
Thoros stumbled in a few moments later, a broad grin on his face and a large cup of wine in his hands as he took the seat that was only recently vacated by Princess Myrcella.
The Princess had been taken away by the Septa as it was past her bedtime. He noticed that some of the other people in the hall had begun to depart as well - some due to becoming too inebriated, some due to consuming too much food, and others who had left for a risqué night with their partners.
"A fine feast as ever, your grace." Thoros said, giving him a nod in greeting. "But you know what'll make it even better?"
"What?" Robert asked, his puffed up cheeks looking pink from all the wine he'd consumed thus far.
"More wine!" Thoros shouted and Robert burst out into laughter.
"Aye! You're right. MORE WINE!" He shouted and the hall cheered along with him, some of them banging their table and chair as the rowdiness increased.
"A song or two won't be remiss either." Thoros said, giving him a mischievous smile that he really didn't like.
"Aye! Where are the bards? BARDS! Get over here!" Robert shouted until one of the younger looking bard who had been singing to a group of ladies up till that point, ran over to the main Dias.
"No, no, no. That's not what I meant, your grace." Thoros said.
"Then what do you mean?" Robert asked.
"Why, tales of Stephen the Bard Prince has spread throughout the entire city. Haven't you heard?" Thoros asked and Robert glanced at his cup, frowning deeply.
"Is that so?" Robert asked him with a frown and he shrugged.
"I did take up a lute and some singing during this voyage. Mostly to avoid being too bored." He said.
Robert's frown remained firmly etched on his face as he asked, "Are you any good?" He wondered if Robert was now remembering Prince Rhaegar, who was fond of playing the lyre and singing to the small folk.
"Ladies drop their panties for him when he starts singing." Thoros said with a chuckle as he finished another cup of wine. "Or so I've heard at least."
"Hm…" Robert said, glaring at his cup before he sighed and glanced at the other bard. "Boy, give him your lute."
"Y-your grace?"
"Do as his grace commands." Ser Barristan said from the side with a sympathetic smile to the young bard. "Don't worry, the lute will be returned to you before the night is over, and you'll be well compensated for your loss."
The young bard nodded and reluctantly handed him his lute.
"How much do you typically earn at a feast like this, Harris?" he inquired, as he began to test and adjust the lute. The young bard blinked in surprise.
"Your grace, you know my name?"
"I'm not a prince, but yes. How much do you earn in a festive night like this?" He asked.
"Around 3-5 gold dragons, your grace… I mean, Prince Stephen.. I mean-" The bard stammered and he chuckled.
"I get it." He said and took out 10 gold dragons from his pocket. "Here's for your loss."
The bard was taken aback but quickly accepted the gold and started to thank him profusely.
"Yes, yes. Leave us now." Robert told the bard. He then turned to him, his fists clenching and unclenching. "So… nephew. Do you want sing just for this table or for everyone in this hall?"
"I don't have a problem with singing for everyone in this hall, your grace." He said.
"Bah! Call me uncle. And tell me, what will you sing?"
He pondered for a moment before recalling a fitting song for the occasion. "I have a song I recently composed that I would like to dedicate to you and Lady Lyanna," he said thoughtfully.
"Me and Lyanna?" Robert asked, his eyes narrowing in focus as his voice lowered to a whisper. "Really?"
"Yes, uncle."
Robert took a deep breath and let it out. "Then this better be good, nephew." He warned before he turned to the rest of the boisterous hall. "Listen up, all you sons of whores!" He said as drunkenly stood up from his chair, almost falling over to the side before he got hold of himself. "My dear nephew, Stephen, has a song for you. Which one of you wants to hear it!?"
After a moment of silence, the ladies cheered, and some of the men joined in. Robert slammed his cup down on the table to demand silence. "Then listen up!" Robert said before he tiredly plopped back down on his seat and gesture for him to get up, "Go ahead, boy. Sing."
He nodded as he finished fine tuning the lute and got up from his chair. "Good evening everyone." He said. "This is a song that I dedicate to my uncle, King Robert Baratheon. As well as his lady love, the woman for whom he destroyed a 300 year old dynasty. The name of the son is "My Heart Will Go On". And here is how it goes:"
He started strumming the strings of the lute and let Mana Resonance skill do its job as everyone in the hall started to sway to its slow rhythm until he finally started singing.
"Every night in my dreams~
I see you, I feel you~
That is how I know you, go on~
Far across the distance~
And spaces between us~
You have come to…"
…
He finished singing with a last strum of his lute and a deafening silence fell over the entire hall.
The silence lasted for several moment, as the audience slowly returned back to their senses after listening to the literally magical song.
Then one of the ladies got up from her chair and started to clap, literal tears flowing down her face and smudging what counted for makeup in this medieval world. But she didn't seem to care for it as she wiped it away with the back of her hand before she continued clapping.
A moment later, another person got up and started to clap. Then another, then another, until the entire hall stood up and gave a standing ovation.
He let out a breath, glad that he hadn't fucked up this performance, before he bowed to the audience and turned to look at Robert. Robert who was staring back at him with a sorrowful expression and red, teary eyes.
A tear silently streaked down Robert's cheeks and the man nodded at him before he got up as the cheers and clapping finally started to subside.
"Everyone, isn't my nephew an amazing singer!?" Robert asked and the crowd caught a second wind and started cheering once again.
Robert waited for the cheering to subside before he spoke again. "He is, isn't he. And he is a great warrior, a great scholar, and a great copper counter." Robert said the last one in jest and the crowd laughed with him. "He is also the man who led an army and saved my family, as well as this castle when the Ironborn had broken through its gates."
The hall grew quiet as Robert spoke about the Ironborn. "Without him," he said, "we would not be here today, celebrating. No, we would still be at war with the Ironborn. And perhaps even those Dragonspawns would have joined in, for all I know." Robert paused, then continued. "But because of him, we won the war. Because of him, my family was saved. And once again now, because of him, my son Joffrey survived and returned from the jaws of death."
"I have offered two favours to my nephew, but Stephen has not yet asked for anything," Robert announced. "And every day, I feel more and more indebted to him." He chuckled. "But I don't mind. I am proud of him, and I wish I had a son half as capable as he is."
Robert let out a sigh, "I won't lie, this is the first time I've ever been envious of my brother," he said with a chuckle, and the courtiers laughed along with him. "But then I thought, even if I don't have him as my son, that doesn't mean I can't have him as my son-in-law!"
…what!? Wait! No, no, no
"And thus, here, in front of all of you miserable cunts serving as my witness. I announce the betrothal of my nephew, Stephen Baratheon, to my daughter Myrcella!" And the crowd cheered.