Chapter 1: Beginnings
A/N: Warning: This is Game of Thrones/Song of Ice and Fire/Harry Potter/Percy Jackson, all in Westeros, and with only aSoIaF characters, but themes from the others.
My name is King Daniel I of the House Baratheon, the legitimised bastard of King Robert I, Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, rightful King of the Andals, Lord of the Southern Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. This is the story of my journey.
The sword swung over my head, sweeping my hair as it did so, and I took advantage, hitting the chest of my opponent as he was off balance. He stumbled back and I took advantage, swinging my bow around to hit his helmet hard enough to knock him to the floor.
This opponent may be on the floor, but there were two left as I turned to face the rest of the melee. It was my first tourney, although I had needed to beg my foster, Lord Mace Tyrell, Warden of the South and Lord Paramount of the Reach, to even allow me to compete at all.
They were still fighting each other, so I quickly pulled two arrows from my quiver, loosing them simultaneously to put them both on the floor, clutching at the backs of their knees, thinking they had somehow been hit.
The crowd broke into applause as I bowed, and my uncle, Ser Renly Baratheon, stepped down from his chair to give me the laurel of roses to hand to my Queen of Love and Beauty, which I of course took to the love of my life, Margaery of the House Tyrell.
She blushed Lannister red as she graciously took it, before putting her hands behind my ears to pull my head towards her to kiss me. A whoop went up behind me and I turned to see my "uncle," Tyrion Lannister, walking with Lord Mace.
"He has it all, Lord Tyrell, looks, battle skills, Storm's End and even the heart of your daughter. I would recommend taking up the King's offer of betrothal," he said drunkenly, and with a hint of bitterness,
"Tyrion," I replied, "what brings you to the Stormlands? There are far fewer brothels here than in the capital, and I know my father would rather have you to talk to than your sister."
He laughed and said, "come Daniel, we must speak in private with Lord Tyrell and his daughter," beckoning me into my own castle. Had it been anyone else, I may have been angry, but I knew him too well to see it as anything but a joke.
Pulling my love onto her feet, I followed the imp all the way to the top of the castle, the old court of the Storm Kings, to listen to what my uncle had to say.
Sitting down in my throne, Margaery sat in my lap, despite her father being in the same room, and we turned our attention to my uncle.
"Lord Tyrell, the king has changed his offer. He now no longer asks for any dowry, and the queen has offered 2,000 golden dragons for your daughters hand for this lovely lad."
"Why would she do that? I have no relation to her. I am Baratheon and Mackinnon, not Lannister!" I replied quickly, sitting up straight, as I was interested in this new development. She never cared for me before, why now?
"I'll explain later," the dwarf replied briefly.
The ever willing to please Mace Tyrell looked amazed by this offer. He had previously been unwilling due to the fact that it may displease the queen, which would displease Tywin Lannister, one of the most feared men in Westeros., along with his mad dog Gregor "The Mountain that Rides" Clegane, the most feared man in the Known World.
"I accept, effective immediately. Margaery, I know how much you want this match and it would give me great pleasure to allow you to become the lady of Storm's End."
My heart rose tenfold. I was now allowed to marry the girl of my dreams; I pulled her face around to face me and kissed her with all I could muster. She kissed back fervently, her hands pulling at my hair. We heard several coughs but didn't stop, getting more and more into the kiss. After another minute, we stopped to draw breath, at which point we realised that Lord Tyrell has left.
Tyrion looked at Margaery sheepishly, saying "I believe that your father has gone to look for your brother Loras, in the hope that he may be able to stop this newfound behaviour."
"I apologize, Tyrion." I turned back to my love and just put my arms around her.
However, he did not leave, but merely looked and me and said, "That was not the only message I brought. I also have grave news. Jon Arryn, the Hand of The King, is dead."
I was shocked. Lord Arryn, while old, had always seemed so robust that I never thought he would die. He seemed like Merlin must have seemed to Aegon the Conquerer, always old, but never aging or senile, the complete opposite of Grand Maester Pycelle, a doddery old fool if there ever was one. "How?" was the only word I could manage to get out.
"A fever took him quickly."
This seemed suspicious. My father's only true friend in the capital dies at the hands of a sudden illness and the Lannister Maester somehow couldn't stop a simple fever, when the Lannisters would presumably profit most from it, as Lord Tywin would be one of the prime candidate for the next Hand of the King. I knew something was wrong. Everyone at court was a liar, and could not trusted. This, along with the news that Stannis had suddenly returned to Dragonstone, meant that the Lannisters had something to hide.
"Who will replace him?" I asked. There were 5 possibilities to me:
Tywin Lannister, the queen's father who had been hand to Aerys II for twenty years so would quite quickly fix the realm's financial troubles,
Eddard Stark, my father's most loyal friend, and the only man my father ever really trusted since his rebellion, who might get the job as he was one of the few with enough honour not to become a liar in King's Landing,
Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, who handled Dorne single-handedly for the last ten years and hated the Lannisters with a passion, which father would only be too happy to support,
Randyll Tarly, one of the most ruthless leaders in the Realm, a strong military hand and the Reach's own Tywin Lannister and finally,
Renly Baratheon, my uncle and my father's brother, whilst not as rough or honourable as the rest, he was very politically savvy as well as being very financially aware.
The imp was thinking, as if worrying that saying the wrong word may cause him troubles. "Your father means to appoint Eddard Stark, he rides north in a week to ask him, and a lot of us are going."
"Us? I questioned. I had not yet been informed that I was going, and I was surprised that he would be going.
"I mean to use this trip to finally visit the wall, as I've wanted to do all my life. You must come, as should your sister, to meet her future sister-in-law."
"Very well, we will leave for King's Landing tomorrow dawn, I thank you, Tyrion, and invite you to the Victor's feast tonight." He took that as his cue to leave, and as soon as the door had closed behind him I had a tongue down my throat, and was very happy.