3 : A life without constant stimulation

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Repetition is the mother of learning. A quote I had remembered through to this life. It had been a favorite quote my mom said whenever I complained about some task I failed to be good at the first, second, or eighteenth time trying my hand at. All along the journey of me becoming a more successful artist she repeated that phrase to me whenever I moaned and groaned about how bad my art was and how unsuccessful I was at putting the image from my head onto paper. Eventually I became decent enough for me to think about pursuing a job in the arts, but my father convinced me to do something art-adjacent. But I never did give up my artistic aspirations. In my life, before I was Markas, I kept many mediums in my apartment because I loved the variety they offered. From pastel chalks to vibrant paints to effervescent sprays I tried many, and they all brought me joy. I joy I was now missing deeply.

Repetition is the mother of learning, but swinging a sword and attending lessons got boring fast. Then, around the keep, there was not much more things to entertain me. I had yet to find anyone my age in the castle proper, with the youngest being a servant boy of 13 who was much too scared of my position as a king's brother to be interesting, and I had explored many of the easier to reach nooks and crannies of the castle that I had access to. Unfortunately, when Lady Selyse caught me using a quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment I had borrowed without permission from the acolyte. She had gushed over the beautiful landscape I had drawn, which was a segment of a park I remembered from other youth. It was not my best work, this being my first time using a quill and ink, which was an odd mixture of both pen and paint, and the use of my hands being abnormal to me. She had decided that Stannis must know of my talents. He was less interested. He said, and I quote, "This is folly, he is a Baratheon, even as a fourth son he will not be caught underneath my wardage as becoming a weak-willed fop who whiles away his days doing something as sordid for a man as this. He is no woman, he will be a warrior and a lord." Which was impressive, because this was both incredibly sexist and the first time I had heard him speak so many words.

So, I practiced my martial training, which was going much slower than I liked. It seemed like repetition was not teaching me anything here. However, I was slowly building stamina. I didn't see any new muscles being added but I was still young and had the normal amount of fat kids my age do. My intellectual advances were going better. Mathematics and calculation was still the only area I actually excelled at, but was told by both the maester and his apprentice I was a fast learner in the rest. The written word of westeros was not the most complicated language to learn, but still more complicated than I had hoped. Then of course there was the million and one houses, plus their histories, plus the histories of all the areas as a whole. So I was chugging along with those as well.

Rarely was I genuinely entertained. I got so bored I once used a rock to scratch out a tic tac toe board and played against myself. Then again. And again. I dont know how many times, but it was more than I care to admit. Then I went right back to being bored. I should probably spend this time planning, but I'm five. If I have to spend multiple years like this, with no hobby, I'm going to jump from the tallest tower of Dragonstone.

Then, two hours or so before I normally went to sleep, I had been going along the outskirts of keep for the thirtieth time that week, when I heard it. Someone singing a tune. I crept along the wall until I discovered the source to be a young boy looking to be near my age. He had brown hair that was cut short, tan skin that seemed to be more from the sun than his natural complexion, and was wearing decent clothing for a commoner. Just as I got close enough to make out words he changed songs. For this new song he didn't seem to know all the words so he was making liberal uses of hums, but the verse seemed to talk about a swordsman coming to visit, then about a poet?

He was doing this under the shade of a tree behind the door to the kitchens, where I assumed one, if not both, of his parents worked. He was scratching images into the ground with a stick he was holding, I could see one of a bird. Or maybe it was a dog. A cloud? A… something. Then there was a very blocky castle, and I assumed he was currently working on a house now due to the generic square and what was taking shape of another rectangle as a possibly very crooked door.

I walked over to him and said, "That's a pretty song, where'd you learn it?" He jumped, clearly surprised to be taken out of his zen state of singing and drawing. I could finally make out the features on his face. His eyes were almost the same shade of brown of his hair, and the most prominent feature of his face was his mouth, which seemed made for smiling large and proudly as there were already smile lines on the edges of it. He used his hand to cover his eyes as the sun was blocking his view of me easily, but he seemed to make out my shape as that of a child and seemed to relax heavily. His voice was higher than I anticipated but nothing terribly uncommon for a boy our age. "It's one me ma and pa sing together sometimes. Me pa sings the first part about the soldier with the sword! Then me ma sings the part about the poet. Well, when me pa is working and its just me ma around she sings both parts. I duh not think me pa never sang it when me ma wasn't around though." I was unsure if this was a regional accent or a commoner's accent. I spoke to plenty of servants but they were all employed by my uncle and I figured they must have undergone some sort of training and trying to sound proper definitely sounded like something a noble would want from their servants.

Wanting to sate my curiosity I asked, hoping my childish body would soothe over any possible offense my question would give off. "You speak kinda funny. Why's that?"

He seemed ruffled at my question, quickly crossing his arms and nearly thwacking himself in the face with his drawing stick. "I duh not! Me ma says me words are coming along good! She would know! She said that before she married me pa, she used to travel with her own folks and she learned lots going around place tae place!"

"I think you meant to say, 'my words are coming along well'." I couldn't stop myself from correcting. I saw immediate recognition of the truth of the matter in his face but just shook his head and said, "Nuh uh, I said it right!" I laughed, because I knew that was false, then looked back at his drawings. "Can I draw with you? I don't have my own stick but I'm good at pictures." He looked at me with great suspicion, as if I had asked him if I could borrow his greatest possession. He seemed to find the answer he was looking for quickly as he said, "Alright, but dont go breaking me stick please, it took me almost a whole day to find one so straight and strong!"

I looked at him shocked, "I would never break such a good stick! Why, it's good enough to be a practice sword, or a mace, or a fishing pole. No, thats not just a stick for drawing in the dirt, it's… it's a family heirloom!" Saying this, I took the stick reverently in both hands. He just looked at my confused and said with a light chuckle, "And you said I's speak funny."

After finishing my performance I quickly drew a tree on the ground, nothing spectacular, due to it being a stick and dirt I was drawing with, but the boy seemed mighty impressed bu my display of prowess. "Wow! That's a really good tree! How'd you do that!" "Well, I dont use too many straight lines because trees are a part of nature, and there aren't many straight lines, so it's lots of swooshes and curves." I replied. He followed with another question of "Is one of your parents a drawist or something?" I laughed, "No, my parents aren't alive anymore. I live with my brother. He actually doesn't like me drawing but I find it fun so I do it when he's not looking." He looked at me aghast. I prepared myself for the questions about my parents I knew was coming.

"He doesn't let you draw! But you're so good! Look at that tree! Look! You even added a small bird in the branch over there!" I stopped my mindless dirt drawing and looked at the boy while laughing. I had told him my parents were dead, and he focused on the drawing? I really needed help on acting like a child because I did not see that coming. "Yeah, he's a warrior and says warriors don't draw. I bet he wouldn't let me sing either if he caught me." The boy looked even more surprised by that.
"No singing eithers? Why, me pa's a guard that works here and he loves it when we all sing together. Him, me ma, meself, and my older brother Arrold all sing if we're all home. Usually my ma starts it if she's cooking or doing some chore inside."

I couldn't keep a smile off my face and said, "That sounds really nice. What's your name by the way? I'm Markas." I said this while holding out the stick for him to talk back. He took the stick from me and said, "I'm Gowen! If your brother won't let you sing or draw, then we can play together and just do it where he can't see. Me ma gets mad when Arrold and I practice sword fighting ones another with sticks so we do that where she can't see. One time she caught us and tried to tell pa but he just laughed and said we was getting ready for being men." While speaking he seemed to be getting faster and faster like the words couldn't leave his mouth fast enough, not even looking at me but around at the world like he was giving a great soliloquy on a stage. Then he looked looked at me as if someone had just scolded him, "Well, it's kinda like lying but we ain't speaking no words so not really. Ma always get mad when we lie so you cants be saying nothings to her alright?"

I had to note that he had taken us playing together as a guarantee without me having said anything in such a way, but kept smiling at him and say, "Oh of course, it's not lying if we don't say anything. I won't tell your mom nothing." I couldn't help but finish the sentence in the way he had spoken to me. He smiled massively, showing as many teeth as his mouth would allow and said,"Perfect! I come almost every day now since old nan hurt her hip getting water. This is my third day here and I haven't seen any other kids! Sometimes i'm inside the kitchen but that mean man yelled at me earlier and told me to get out. I wasn't hurting nothing! I just wanted to see the chicken they had in there!"

"Oh yeah?" I said, "I'm free every day a few hours after lunch. When do you go home?"

"Oh that depends on if me ma or pa comes to get me first. Pa works in the armory. He says he's a quartermaster of some such. I asked what that meant but he said it just meant a soldier that knew numbers and words. Said I'll have to learn too. My ma said the same thing, I told her I didn't wanna, but she just shook her head and told me I 'ad to. She knows numbers too, and words a bit. She said it helped her sell things with her family. They're really smart me ma and pa. Way smarter than dumb old Arrold." Man, this boy knew how to talk and definitely seemed to enjoy doing so.

"As I said this the door to the kitchen opened to reveal a woman that looked remarkably similar to the boy. Obviously his mom and he looked to have inherited a significant portion of his looks from her, though not the large mouth as hers was quite normally sized, and if she was an indication he would look alright as he matured. She had brown hair, a few shades darker than Gowen's own, and it was put into a simple braid down her back. She was pretty if not beautiful, was wiping her hands on her already dirty apron as she backed out of the door. She turned around and started to call out towards Gowen about being ready to leave when she stopped, looked my way, and asked, "Gowen, who's your friend here?" The lilt to her voice told me where Gowen's accent came from. I assumed that even as a trader her family must have kept a portion of their home's accent. I was thankful she didn't recognize me or my clothing, which I attributed to our place in the shade and the unlikelihood of a young lord playing in the dirt with her son. My clothes did also have a startling lack of baratheon stags on it today, with me only having been dressed in a normal brown tunic and some black britches with my normal pair boots.

"Ma! This is Markas! He came over just a bit ago and drew this tree in the dirt! See it ma! He says he leaves around here and says he'll be stopping by to play with me when he can!" She laughed and said, "Alrighty then, just make sure you two don't get into any trouble and stay out of the nobles' way. Don't want to have to give either of your hides a smack. Markas is one of your parents going to come pick you up or would you like to walk back home with us?"

Before I could even reply my new friend blurted, "Oh no ma, his parents be dead! He lives with his brother. I couldn't imagine just living with Arrald. That'd be awful." He said the last part as if he had imagined such a life and compared it similarly to being given a life sentence.

His mother's face quickly grew to one of pity and concern. "Oh no! I'm sorry my dear, I did nuh mean to be rude. You aren't the only child without parents after the recent rebellion. Are you and your brother living alright? You eating okay? If you need, I know Hugh wouldn't mind if you two boys came over occasionally for a meal or two. Does your brother work here in the keep? Probably one of the guards, eh? I bet he knows Hugh. He's the quartermaster. As long as your brother isn't that fool Orran, Hugh just gets along with everyone." Okay, so Gowen got more than just his looks from his mother, he also got his chattiness from her, not to mention it sounded likely his father was the same in the desire to see himself speak.

I looked at her and said, "No that's okay ma'am, me and my brother have quarters here inside the keep and eat quite well, thank you."
"Ah, castle servants then? Good, means you know not to be going and getting into any trouble. My offer stands though for you boys, should you want to come talk and share a meal, our door will be open should we have anything. Just find any of us before we leave and we'll show you the way. It's on the western part of the village nearest the keep, over by the smaller well there. If you end up in them parts just ask around, everyone knows us. My names Wyndafred but everyone calls me Wynnie. My husband is Hugh, my other boy is named Arrald and you already know Gowen I hope. Unless you lost your manners?" She said the last while giving a mother's glare at her son. He vehemently shook his head. With a swift nod she said, "Good, come on now little beastie, time for us to go home" then she started walking away expecting Gowen to follow. He seemed reluctant to do so, looking between me and his mom. "I'll be putting the drawing stick by this here rock alright? Nobody except the kitchen people like me ma comes over here so it should stay. If i'm not here tomorrow feel free to use it. Sometimes I stay in the village with Arrald, he's a smith's apprentice now. Thinks he so much better than me. Well I'll show him! When he's making nails and horse shoes I'll be slaying bandits and conquering the king's foes!" While saying the last part he was swinging the drawing stick around haphazardly, close to falling over at one point.

Having looked back to see her child not following his mom said, "Come now we don't have all night. Don't want your pa waiting forever to eat his supper once he comes back from work do we?" Gowen once again came out of a trance of his, placed the stick in the location he said he would, and took off after his mom.

Watching them go gave me an ache in my heart. The Baratheons really didn't have any similar interactions yet, and it made me miss my old family. Trying to remind myself that I had already grieved, I went back to my room, readying myself for another day of learning, training, then hopefully, time with a new friend. Even if they were a five year old.

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Three weeks is how long it took for me to let slip something about me being a noble. I didn't say, 'I'm a noble.' But I mentioned my sword practices being the reason that I was running so oddly one day when Gowen and I were playing a game of tag. (By the way, more adults should play tag, surprisingly still fun. Although, the lack of any other form of entertainment probably aided the level of joy it brought.) Gowen was amazed and would not stop asking me about it and why I was receiving lessons when he wasn't. I told him maybe it's because I live in the castle and he doesn't, but that just made him more angry. When his mom came out of the kitchens that night the first thing he told her about was that I was receiving sword lessons and all but demanding that he be included. His mom looked puzzled at first then had a brief look of horror dawning across her face as she flatted her facial expressions and looked at me. "Markas dearie," she asked incredibly sweetly with a very fake looking smile drawn across her face, "Who is your brother?"

I looked at her ashamed and said, "...Stannis". This was probably my best acting as a child to date, but in reality it wasn't that much acting. I was leaning into my feelings of shamefulness for my lie of omission, but I needed something other than training and learning in my life. They wouldn't let me play with the hounds, I was considered too young to ride yet, with Stannis having said I need to grow a bit more yet before I started, and Gowen was the only child I had found inside Dragonstone proper.

Wynnie looked at me with sympathy more than anything else, as she said, "Does Lord Stannis know about you being out here doing this?" I decided to continue my role as a child and just didn't look at her and remained quiet. This was answer enough for her as she crouched down next to a very quiet me and a very confused Gowen who said, "Isn't Lord Stannis the lord of the castle? How can he be Markas' brother?" Wynnie looked at her son, rubbed his hair and said, "Well, you see, young Lord Markas Baratheon here is Lord Stannis' brother. That's why he receives sword training, and also why you two probably shouldn't be playing around together anymore." Gowen looked dejected and complained. His mother, having failed to get him to listen, became irritated and gave a sharp but simple reply of, "Gowen! We'll talk about this more at home. Tell Lord Markas goodbye. Your dad will still be going home soon and he will still be hungry at the same time as always." Her mom voice came through as Gowen stopped, even though he was on the verge of tears. He gave me a sobbing goodbye as they walked away.

_

It was the next day during my martial training that Manfred stopped me early into my swings. I was confused because All I had done were the basic sword swings that were now considered more of a warm-up than a real part of the training. Manfred looked at me with… anger? and said "What is it young lord?" I said, "Nothing." He seemed to get slightly more upset and said again, "What is it young lord?" but this time, it seemed to come out stronger, even though I was sure nothing had changed about the way he spoke the words. Almost as if my first answer had someone hurt him some way and he was defending himself.

Seeing this as a possible opportunity, even with the confusing part of Manfred seeming to care about my feelings, I said, "Can other kids come train with me? I'm tired of having no friends! All I do is swing this stupid sword and read those stupid books but thats it! I can't play tag, or draw pictures, or play with the dogs! It's always duty this, responsibility that!" Midway through my rant I started getting louder and louder which eventually led to shouting, which I doubt helped my point get across because my young vocal cords made the words more and more high pitched as I got flustered. Then I was embarrassed because I was pretty sure my brain was not that of a 5 year old yet here I was going around shouting and yelling like one.

Manfred only nodded to himself, as if what I said was a given and said, "I will ask. Do you have someone in mind?" "Gowen, the son of the quartermaster, Hugh I think is his name, that is, of the quartermaster, not the son. The son is Gowen, his dad is Hugh. " I was still getting over my feeling of being flustered by my outburst. Manfred nodded again then said, "Train well still, I will ask. Do not make my lessons go wasted." Then walked off towards the armory, presumably looking for Hugh. I was confused because I felt like he should ask Stannis first but I wasn't the one asking so he could do whatever order he pleased if it let me keep some semblance of entertainment in my life. Thus, I resumed my martial training, not at 100% but probably still better than what I had started at considering Manfred had stopped me, which he only did if he wanted me to change what I was training, or if he required I take a break because, "You are too tired to do it right, go get a drink."

That night I went to see if Gowen was behind the kitchen, and he was not. He was kind enough to leave the drawing stick.

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A.N. : Hey all! Here's the chapter. Next one should be coming Saturday. After that the chapter will slow down a bit to one or two a week. Again, no promises because I'm doing this more out of fun, but the goal is at least one a week. I'm having lots of fun with writing these chapters and looking over the story outline as I question all my choices based off your guys' comments.

I'd like to try to try to address some commonalities among comments I've seen or expect to see.

MC's choice on who to support for the Iron Throne: I'm going to break this down into 3 parts.

First: Spitting in the face of his heritage. This could be seen as true, and it will be an argument I will most definitely use against the MC for those against him, but Dany accepted Tyrion as her hand, and was willing to overlook other transgressors or rebels upon landing, as long as they bent the knee. Then, to add, the MC was too young to even remember the rebellion. Renly is a year older and remembers the starvation of Dragonstone, but the MC was ~3 years old during that time. Dany, especially once she learns of her own father's sins, will be less likely to vindicate those based on the sins of their fathers, or in this case a brother.

Second: Desire for the throne through a Targaryen/Baratheon marriage. This is an interesting idea because it would be a cementing of Loyalist/Rebel faction marriage. While I'm not gonna say its not a possibility, I would like to remind everyone that the MC sees the Throne as a large target sign. His main goal, especially right now, is survival. Well, right now it's not being bored to death, but on the macro level his goal is survival. This will update as he ages, gets some traction in westeros, and learns how to be of any influence upon the world. But for now, the Iron Throne is not his goal. I will not say it won't ever be however.

Third: MC should have chosen X candidate instead. There are strong arguments for every candidate. Hell, just killing joffrey and leaving tommen on the throne is viable if the MC also manages to gain some of his own land. (Which would be simple as there are a number of empty keeps following the rebellion, such as summerhall (would need rebuilding), Moat Caitlin (rebuilding), or any other options, even some that don't need rebuilding but are less well known or are currently occupied exclusively by a marriable lady heir. However I put in a previous comment about the wardage options that the MC sees certain options as safer. His meta knowledge is impacting his choices on an emotional level as well. He picks those he knows about, such as starks and dany, over those he doesn't, fAegon, Stannis, and Renly. Stannis is occumpanied by the Red Lady which is the Mc's main concern, where as Renly days fairly early on not giving us a fully fleshed out picture behind the scenes.

The MC's emotions: The body and mind are connected, so as aa five year old I decided to make him occasionally act the part, just as a more wise five year old. The mind reacts to hormones and anybody who has interacted with five year olds will say, they have some mood swings. This is partially due to mental development and partially due to hormones. The MC will be reexperiencing puberty as well so look forward to that. It will be similar to childhood in that it will be muted but still present. I'm doing this as a way to make the MC less suspicious for his age, and as a writing tool.

Thanks for the interest and for reading!