The island of Dragonstone finally came in sight. It had been a long journey from Storm's End, and it had been with many stops. They stopped first at Evenfall Hall on the Sapphire Isle, then at Stonedance, before finally setting sail for Dragonstone. The island stood there, grim and mysterious, with the volcano looming over the Valyrian fortress which gave name to the island. The Targaryens fled here 400 years ago, and now, they are gone. The dragon-shaped towers looked as if they could spit dragonfire at anyone approaching without a reason. And there, there was the small town nearby. The people of the island had classical Valyrian features, with silver hair and purple eyes, and some still spoke Valyrian after all these years.
Valyria will never leave this place. It is too rooted here, he thought. After all these years growing up here, Alester still felt like coming to a foreign land. Towers in form of dragons, statues to Valyrian gods, this place was foreign in all but location. Chuckling, he turned around to find his travelling friends. He went to the cabin of his companions. Devan Seaworth and Edric Storm, his two squires, playing cyvasse. He learned to play the game when he had been visiting the Water Gardens in a diplomatic mission to mend relations between the crown and House Martell. After the two weeks, not even Lord Doran could beat him at it.
"Devan, Edric! Quit playing, Dragonstone is in sight. We should arrive soon at the docks, pack up!" The two mumbled a few words, and then began packing up their trunk. The two were quite a mess when it came to being orderly. Alester chuckled and left for his chamber. He had a few books lying around. He had to entertain himself on this journey after all. He put his night clothes, the books and other items in the wooden trunk bearing the Baratheon stag.
Alester remembered something. He took off the glove on his right hand. His wrist was grey and from the wrist, grey scales went up his palm, forming the form of antlers. Alester remembered the night he and Shireen fought over a toy; he tore it apart in envy in an act of jealousy. Both got greyscale on their right hands and on both, it formed antlers. A healer managed to stop it on both siblings, and ever since, he and Shireen never took off their gloves from their right hand in public. The septon on Dragonstone said it was a sign of the Seven, but he wasn't able to say how. Ever since that day, his mother despised him. Alester began tearing.
"Alester, you forgot the cyvasse game in our cabin!"
The courtyard was full of the servants of Dragonstone, along with Lord Stannis Baratheon, his wife Selyse and their daughter, Shireen. Alester smiled and approached his father, who had kind eyes, yet he didn't smile. He never did. His mother looked disgusted and loathing at her son, while Shireen smiled, happy to see her brother again. The heir to Dragonstone looked around, and saw Maester Cressen, his tutor and father figure in his father's presence in King's Landing, and another woman, dressed in red, which looked foreign, who studied him. Alester didn't like her gaze, so he turned to his father.
"Father, it is splendid to see you again!" Stannis Baratheon gave the ghost of a smile to his son. "The same could be said to you, Alester. It's been far too long!"
He pulled his father into an embrace, which he gladly accepted. Alester knew that his father was proud of him, and while he didn't like that he spent time in the Stormlands and the Reach, being regent to his uncle Renly, he knew he was smarter than to copy his uncle's antics.
Alester turned to Selyse: "Mother!" His mother scoffed and publicly showed disdain towards her only son. Even when I haven't seen her in years, I am hated. What kind of mother do I have, he thought. Stannis gave a glare to his wife, while Alester turned to his sister, which jumped into his arms. Alester kissed her forehead and put her on the ground, a toothy smile on his lips. Both looked very similar, with black hair and blue eyes, but Alester lacked the Florent ears his sister had. His sister had seen the Baratheon seat of Storm's End a few months ago, when she and father wanted to see his leadership skills. She was pretty enough, though not a flaming beauty.
"Sister, it's been not too long." She smiled at him and embraced him harder. "I need to tell you how big High Tide is. It is so beautiful!" He ruffled her hair a bit and whispered in her ear: "Tell me inside, I have to do some things, then you can tell me how it was at the Velaryons. She nodded and let him go.
Alester then greeted Maester Cressen and his great-uncle, Axell Florent, the castellan of Dragonstone. Axell wasn't dear to Alester, but he was cordial. Then, he turned around and showed Devan and Edric to come forward. They bowed before Stannis.
"Father, I'd like to present you my squires. Devan Seaworth and my cousin, Edric Storm." Gasps were heard from the crowd, and his mother looked offended. "How dare you bring the result of the dishonouring of our wedding bed!" The damage was done, and Alester felt the Baratheon fury rising.
"Mother, what are the words of House Baratheon?" Before she could answer, he cut her off. "Ours is the fury. And what do you think I feel when my mother, my own mother, loathes me and hates me on the day I see her again for the first time in three years! Joy?"
He then felt a pain on his left cheek.
My mother sees me and Shireen as failures. When I become Lord of Dragonstone, I'll send her back to Brightwater Keep. I hope Uncle Alester can support her, because I won't have her around. Alester sat on his bed, pondering the events in the courtyard. He was still in shock about what happened a few hours ago. He had visited Shireen earlier, and promised to take her with him to Storm's End, once he returned there. She apparently also suffered under her mother, and it was time she could experience other places in the world. She had seen Storm's End and King's Landing, as well as High Tide, the seat of House Velaryon. She was most impressed by the Velaryons; now the most powerful Crownlander house behind the Baratheon branches of Dragonstone and King's Landing. Not even House Rosby was as powerful, and they had major influence on the food supplies of the capitol.
The heir to Dragonstone heard the door open, and he saw a woman in red, with a ruby necklace, and hair as red as her dress. She closed the door, then bowed before him.
"My lord, I am Lady Melisandre, priestess of the one true god, the Lord of Light." Alester studied the woman. He had heard of the Lord of Light, R'hllor as his true name was, during his travels in the Reach and Dorne. A temple was in Planky Town, as well as in Oldtown. Alester stood up, and kissed the hand of the priestess. It was warmer than any other.
The priestess chuckled at the antics and sat herself on a chair at his desk. "I have heard of you, Lord Alester. You are the only son and heir to Stannis Baratheon. Your mother told me about you."
Alester felt his jaw tightening, and he made his left hand a fist, but before he could say something, she cut in: "I came to talk with you about the only true god."
"Why are you here on Dragonstone, Lady Melisandre? And where are you from?"
"Asshai, my lord. And I am here on the behalf of your father."
Alester pondered her words. "Have you come to convert us to your god? I have heard of many gods, from the old gods of Valyria, to the Seven, to the Old Gods of the North, and the many gods of the free cities. Why should your god be the real one?"
"You worship idols, false gods that do not exist. Your mother and uncle have already seen the value of the Lord of Light. And your father is growing closer every day now."
Alester shook his head, wondering what sorcery made his father renounce his nerve to a deity, a foreign one nonetheless. This is utter madness. I hope Davos can talk some sense into father. He stood up and looked into the eyes of the priestess, and he only saw to pits of fire.
"You really expect Westeros to just abandon its gods, traditions and legends for a fire god of Asshai. Lady Melisandre, you're wrong in expecting Westeros to turn on its gods, be it the Seven, the Old Gods or the Drowned One."
"This fire god of Asshai has taken the Free Cities by storm, why should-"
This was the breaking point for the heir to Dragonstone. "Remind me, how many of the Free Cities have a majority in the Lord of Light. Braavos is open to all gods, so is Lorath. Trios, the Weeping Lady and Mother Rhoyne are still the main gods of Tyrosh, Lys and Myr. Your fire god has no hold in Qohor and Norvos, if I remember correctly. And while Pentos and Volantis have taken the Lord of Light more openly, it is not the only religion in the cities. If I remember correctly, Old Volantis still worships the gods of Old Valyria."
The priestess tried to find words, her confident look broken into a gaze of disbelief. Alester stepped away from the priestess and looked into her eyes once again.
"You may have a hold on my father, but should you ever try to convert me and my sister again, I will personally banish you from Dragonstone. Should you return to Westeros, I will see that your head will be sent to Volantis, this will show that the Red God is not welcome in Westeros."
Steps filled the corridors of the Valyrian fortress. The dark stone made the sound echo around the castle. He finally reached the war room, where he saw his father ponder. Alester had searched him in his room and his solar, but he hadn't been able to find him. He entered the room, and looked upon the table, which showed Westeros in its glory.
"Father, I must talk with you."
Stannis Baratheon turned around and let the ghost of a smile creep upon his lips. It was known that he never truly smiled, but his eyes always looked proud when looking upon his son and daughter. He came to Alester and hugged him. It was clear that he had missed his son, once a small boy, now regent of Storm's End.
"What is on your mind?"
"What is happening? Why is this red priestess here? Why are you not in the capitol with Shireen?"
His father frowned and sat himself on a chair. Alester did the same.
"Jon Arryn has found out that the children of the Queen are her bastards with the Kingslayer. The Hand and I have investigated, but before he could say something to Robert, he died. I believe the Lannisters poisoned him."
Alester let a small gasp escape his lips, his eyes wide open. This is why Joffrey is as mad as the Mad King. And why the royal children have no Baratheon traits. Alester regained his posture.
"Father, may I recommend something?" His father nodded. "Don't let Uncle Robert kill the children. He already has a bloody reputation due to Rhaenys and Aegon."
His father shook his head. "They are bastards of incest. I cannot decide their fate."
"You can! Tommen and Myrcella are not like their elder brother! Let them live! Myrcella loves Shireen, let her live!"
Stannis Baratheon sighed. "Alright, the younger will live. They have no fault, you are right. But I cannot guarantee for Joffrey. I must prepare as new heir to the Iron Throne to take it over."
Alester nodded. All his life, he had been known as the heir to Dragonstone, and had been the heir apparent to Storm's End as well. His uncle, who was Lord of Storm's End, adored him as a brother, and he left him in charge of the Stormlands, when he became 16. Now he is the heir to the Iron Throne after his father.
"We must tread carefully. In the game of thrones, you win or you die."
Alright, Alester Baratheon has been introduced! While I won't introduce more characters in the next chapters, I leave you with this hint: lion knight and his three squires. Alright, see ya