Jeyne, 277 AC
I always knew that the ride into Storm's End was a going to be a slow one. As the daughter of a Marcher Lord with family in Bronzegate, our party had taken a most inconvenient route through the Stormlands in an effort to visit my late Mother's family, the Bucklers, at their ancestral home. Father, however, was eager to put the unpleasantness of that diversion behind us as we moved towards our true objective.
Lord Clifford Swann was a short man with thinning grey hair and a hard face, weathered from years of war, but more so from standing upon the parapets of Stonehelm and looking gloomily over the sea. As a man of martial bearing, the most important thing in the world to him was the feeling of doing one's duty. Making the trip from Stonehelm to Storm's End allowed him to do exactly that, as he served as Lord Steffon Baratheon's Master of Arms, and he had important business to discuss. This dreary and hard bitten man was my father, and the only adult influence in my life besides Septa Mylla, after my Mother died from a chill a year ago. He looked contemplative as he stared across the carriage at me. My brother Gulian rode alongside the guards outside, always eager to please father with his austere habits.
Father seemed to chew on his words as the carriage rolled along before saying, "Jeyne, I am going to need you to remember your graces and treat Lord Steffon and his family with the utmost deference. I have matters to discuss with Lord Steffon, but you and your brother will be on your own for the next week at Storm's End."
Father looked pained as he noticed Gulian outside practicing a chivalric bow in the direction of a group of giggling smallfolk girls as he rode by. "And none of that, either. That damned boy needs to keep his urges under check if we are to get through this visit without scandal."
I didn't know where this lecture was coming from. I had always attended my lessons with a headstrong sense of purpose and duty, even if playing outside with Gulian and the servant children was what I really desired. Stonehelm was a lonely place for a girl of 14, but it never really bothered me.
As for any notions of scandal, that was not for me either. Most would describe me as pretty, with a thin frame, a heart shaped faced, and long, wavy, black hair. It must also be said that in the last two years, I had developed some, erm, assets, that got sufficient amount of attention from potential suitors, not that there have been many. But I had no interest in scandalous pre-marital activity. I'd rather just be left alone, to be honest.
"Of course, Father. I will not let you down," I said. Father could be demanding at times, but I never wanted to give him reason for embarrassment. Gulian, my 18 year old brother, with his overactive need to gain recognition, which often lead him astray, was probably far more deserving of a lecture.
"That's good to hear. Lady Cassana will be eager to meet you, as she has no daughters of her own. I am sure she will arrange some needlework for the two of you to partake in." I didn't think that Father could betray his sense of boredom more than I could with a statement like that, but I said nothing. I figured that Father had less idea what he was talking about than Gulian did when he tried to boast about his knowledge of battle strategy. It was moments like this in which I knew Mother's absence to be missed the most.
The woods began to thin around us as the trail became smoother. Storm's End was coming into view, with its circular frame and imposing battlements pining to reach the sky. I was beginning to get a little bit nervous, as I didn't really know what to expect from the trip. All I knew was that Father and the Lord of the Stormlands were going to spend a week talking about the military capabilities of our Kingdom. For Marcher Lords like Father, and the Selmys and Dondarrions, war was in our blood. Despite the peace that had reigned on the Dornish Frontier for the last few generations, some things never did change. I still woke every morning to war horns rather than a cock's crow, and Stonehelm still held archery and lance drills each month for the garrison.
The battlements ahead grew larger in size as we drew nearer, and golden banners bearing a Stag became visible. Our carriage lurched over the stone bridge and into the castle. The fortress looked imposing, and it became easy to see why the House that called Storm's End home were our liege lords.
"Alright, girl, time to move. Lord Steffon and his family beckon." Father got out of the carriage with me close behind, and I tried to make sure my dress did not bunch as I stepped down into the courtyard. Gulian continued to look around, amazed at the size of the castle. Father got his attention with a quick rap of his sheathed sword on Gulian's leg, and the three of us walked forward to Lord Steffon and his family.
"Ah, Lord Swann, it is a pleasure to see you once again. I see your children are in good health." A kind looking man with deep blue eyes and dark black hair strode forwards and shook arms with Father. Gulian and I both knelt in respect, as we were told beforehand to do.
"Oh, no need for formalities, Lord Swann, let me introduce my family to your children." Lady Baratheon strode forwards after Lord Baratheon gestured for her to do so, and she and father made some small talk. I was distracted, however, by the sight of Lord Baratheon's children. Two boys, both strong and hardy looking, stood a few paces before me. They both had the dark hair of their father and his shockingly blue eyes.
"Robert, would you be so kind as to give Lord Swann's children a tour of the castle while I speak with him?"
The larger and elder of the two boys walked towards Gulian and I, before stating, "Follow me" and striding with energy towards one of the taller buildings that ringed the grounds. Gulian and I followed him with some trepidation, as the boy we knew to be Lord Steffon's heir walked through a door and pointed up.
"Well, that is where you will be staying, the guest tower. Would you like to see the training yard?" he asked.
Gulian and I both said yes, as this seemed much better than simply waiting in the building before the feast Father said would be held tonight. After a quick tour of the battlements, which truly did dwarf any I had ever seen before, Robert led the two of us through the courtyard and towards what looked to be a bunch of training dummies. I noticed the hard muscles of the rear of his frame and the carefree jaunt that he seemed to walk with. It was clear that this was a boy who was bound for great things and seemed to know it.
For the next few hours, Robert and Gulian sparred, and despite Gulian being three years older than Lord Steffon's heir, Robert kept him on his back foot the whole time with his fierce looking combination of hammer and shield strikes. I spent the meantime in conversation with Stannis, Lord Steffon's second son, and he asked me mostly about Stonehelm and what life in the Marches was like. He seemed to brighten up temporarily, as if it was possible for Stannis's dour bearing, when I mentioned how rigorous and martial things were, from the monthly war drills to what passed for commerce in Stonehelm (our family's wealth was quite dependent on the sale of ballistae, catapults, boiling oil launchers, and other forms of siege weaponry, to the Archons of the Free Cities). Stannis, truthfully, would have likely been happier if he was born a Swann.
During one of the breaks that Gulian and Robert were taking during their sparring, I asked Robert if I could see where the stables were in Storm's End. Horse riding, racing, and hunting were my true passions, despite my deference to the duties of learning the womanly arts. I told Stannis and Robert of this earlier while on the tour of the battlements, and Gulian had snorted that he too knew of my desire to waste time on things I had no business doing.
Robert sprung up from his seat, put his arm around me, and startled chortling, "See, this is the kind of girl we need around here! I'm quite tired of pretending to take interest in the tales of embroidery from every possible match that Father puts before me."
I started blushing furiously, and said "I doubt that Lord Steffon had any intention of doing any such thing. I am only here to accompany Father while he reports to Lord Steffon."
I earnestly had no idea of what Robert spoke of, as Father would have told me if we were there to discuss a betrothal. Adding to that, my family being of the station that we were, I doubt that the Baratheons would have had any interest in such a proposal. Robert was as attractive of a suitor that I could ever ask for, and his gregarious disposition made conversation with him a pleasant experience, but that kind of conversation would be a futile one.
"Ha, if you say so, Jeyne. Tell you what, though, sometime this week, I'll take you out riding and we'll have a great time. It'll be just like when I am at the Eyrie with Lord Arryn and Ned. I spend half the year there and its always more interesting than this place." I had notice that Stannis's scowl deepened at the mention of this "Ned", and took a harder than normal swing at a training dummy.
Seeking to ameliorate the situation, I told Robert that I would be delighted to do so, if Stannis too could come. It seemed like the best way to follow Father's instructions was to make sure that both sons of Lord Steffon liked me. The group of us heard the call to come to the main hall, where the feast was soon to begin. Stannis and Robert seemed to be battling in an effort to maneuver themselves into who was get there first.
The candle lights of the main hall shone brightly as we walked in. I was paired with Stannis, his arm around mine, as we walked in with the rest of the highborn in attendance to the main table. It seemed as if there were a few other Storm Lords in attendance, mostly those from the local area. My uncle, Lord Bryan Buckler, who we had just seen yesterday, smiled as he saw me enter the hall. Gulian and Lady Baratheon walked in after us, along with some of the members of House Hasty and House Fell. Ser Bonnifer the Good was in attendance, and his bearing was as grim as described.
Stannis had taken me to my assigned place in the hall, across from Robert and next to Gulian, before taking his own seat. Lord Steffon stood up and looked around before stating, "It is good to see all of you tonight, my Lords. As you are aware, the King currently sits imprisoned in Duskendale, and the Hand of the King has written requesting estimates of our strength should war come to the Seven Kingdoms. Many men in this hall fought to put the last Blackfyre down, but we can never fully be sure that more will not arise, or that we will not be called to defend the realm in the meantime. "
At this point, Father stood up and said, "Thank you, my Lord. For the next week, I will be making the rounds of the northern half of the Stormlands to put our strength to a full estimate. In the meantime, I ask that all in attendance be aware that we cannot ever be unprepared. Keep the health of your horses strong and keep your arsenals stacked with weapons." Father's perpetual hardened visage did not lighten as he sat down. What a way to start a feast.
As the various courses came out, I grew more and more engrossed with a conversation between myself, Robert, and Stannis, while discussing the merits of lances in combat. I had taken to my history lessons with a vigor in recent years, and while Gulian was scarcely interested in what I had to say, it seemed that Robert and Stannis did care about my opinions.
Robert looked at me and stated, "My Lady, listen, I spend about half the year in the Vale. It's as mountainous as any area in the realm, and the going for horses is slow and often perilous. A lance is entirely based off of the momentum that a rider can deliver into a point on a charge. Why use it if it is not suited for all kinds of combat?"
I replied, immediately, "Of course it is no good in the deep mountains. But that isn't the point. Lances allow knights to break the formations of infantry, even spear wielding infantry, and maximize force potential. If a weapon can stack up five men as casualties on a single charge, allow for recycling and repeat, and do it again, that is a weapon worth bringing to the field."
Stannis seemed to hedge between us, and said, "A lance is all well and good when used by disciplined men in a disciplined manner. But far too often, the utilizers of the lance are puffed up, preening Reachmen who care more for how they look than how they fight. The issue is not with the weapon, which is as deadly as described, but with the men holding them."
We all agreed to disagree on this point, but Gulian leaned over me and whispered in my ear, "Stop being such a damned Marcher woman all the time, talking of lances at a feast. Father would be proud, but if an actual suitor heard you talking that way, they'd be out the door in an instant."
I grew red with anger at that. Gulian was always undermining me, always ruining everything. I had finally found some new friends, and he was doing his best to embarrass me. When it came to dancing, once the meals were over with, I sat in my seat with my head in my hands. Robert had taken to the dance floor, spinning his mother and all of the serving girls around, having a grand time. Gulian had joined the growing crowd as well. Stannis and I were the ones who seemed most resistant to join in.
"Not much of a dancing type, huh?" I asked.
Stannis looked over, and just scowled. I don't think he meant anything personal by it, but like me, Stannis just enjoyed his solace. The two of us just sat together in silence and let the festivities go on around us.
By the time Father came by and we were escorted to our lodgings, it looked like he too wanted to slip out. We Swanns have never loved feasts, but Gulian sure as hell did, as I saw him slip out of the hall with a servant girl wrapped around him.
Perhaps Storm's End would be for some of us, at least, a productive visit.
