"The young lord is shaking again! Oh where is the maester? Lord Baratheon'll be so angry if we allow the poor lord to fall ill again!"

Steffon Baratheon shook his head, sighed and continued reading his book. The first time Lord Robert Arryn fell victim to shaking sickness, Steffon was alarmed. He dropped his book and ran to the young Lord Arryn's chambers, mostly out of curiosity. Over the year, he learnt that Robert was plagued with shaking sickness a good many times a month. By now, it had become a very common occurrence at Storm's End. Maester Jurne knew which potions to administer to the Arryn lord – his shaking sicknesses were more irritating now. Steffon felt sorry for him, but at times, wondered why his father agreed to foster the young lordling.

"You should be training." Cassana slid onto the seat in front of him. She pinned her black hair together with a simple golden clip. "Father will be visiting us soon, Steffon," she informed him. "In a few months' time probably."

"Really?" Steffon looked up with interest. "How do you know?"

"Devan Seaworth. He received a letter from his father this morning."

Steffon nodded thoughtfully. Father hardly wrote any letters and when he did, they were short, concise and to the point…and were usually addressed to either Maester Jurne or lady mother. The last time Father wrote to him was on his name day. You are now ten, Father had written. You are no longer a child Steffon. From now on, I expect to hear naught but outstanding news about you. It'll not be long before I summon you to King's Landing where you will continue your education. Your father, Stannis Baratheon, Hand of the King, Lord of Storm's End and Lord Protector of Dragonstone.

"Mother was not pleased," Cassana added, "yet she looked relieved. I think she was invited back to court." She sighed. "Do you think we will ever go and see our cousins in King's Landing?"

"One day. We will most certainly be invited to King's Landing when our cousin Lyanna finally weds Robb Stark. Our father will be offended if we are not invited to King's Landing for her wedding."

"It will be the wedding of a century."

Steffon nodded in agreement. "How is Lady Alyssa?" he asked stiffly. He wasn't keen in being engaged to a girl five years younger than him, but he respected his father's decision and still inquired about her daily. Perhaps one day in about six years' time, he would learn to love her. His own parents did not love each other – was it plain destiny that he too would not love his future wife? Steffon shook the thought from his head.

"Well," Cassana responded. "Perfectly healthy; nothing like her brother. She is quite close to Myrcella. They are the same age after all."

"Robert Arryn is a year younger than our brother Robert yet they are not close at all." During an intense training session in King's Landing, their brother Robert had broken his leg. It was now almost healed, but Father had sent him back home to Storm's End for a proper recovery. From the moment Brother Robert met the Lord of the Eyrie, he disliked him.

"Lord Robert was like a babe when he arrived, crying and sniffling for his lady mother. Thank the Seven he stopped weeping!" Cassana shuddered. "Even now, I still remember that horrible first night of his arrival." Steffon shivered. That was a night hard to forget. It seemed the child Lord of the Eyrie still did not sleep in a chamber of his own when he was directed to his new room in Storm's End. What Steffon heard the next day was more disturbing.

When Cassana told him in the morning, he assumed that Robert Arryn used to have a guard or servant constantly present in his room – that was not the case in the slightest. Apparently Robert Arryn slept with his mother. Anyway, during the horrible night, Robert went wandering around the sleeping quarters, apparently hunting for a female sleeping companion. The first bedchamber Lord Robert had come upon was Cassana's.

"It would've been amusing if he went into Lady Mother's rooms," Steffon said out aloud. "What a sight it would be!"

Cassana laughed. "Indeed," she agreed. "Lady Mother would slap him so hard it would bring colour to his cheeks!"

That would benefit him greatly, Steffon thought. Robert Arryn needed colour in his pallid cheeks A good slapping would solve that swiftly. "Is Lady Mother in her chambers again?"

"As always Steffon. She did go for a walk in the godswood this morning though. She came back in a hurry too." She paused thoughtfully. "At breakfast I inquired when Father and Lord Seaworth would return – Lady Mother told me to eat my bread and fruit silently until I learn to speak of more ladylike topics. How is what I said offensive to ladylike behaviour? Surely what I asked would be naught but daughterly concern for one's father!"

"Lady Mother must not appreciate Lord Seaworth's services. I hope we do not have to visit Casterly Rock again. All our lord grandfather spoke about last time was the greatness of House Lannister of Casterly Rock and the importance of his legacy. Grandfather had even hinted that upon his death, our brother Robert will succeed him as the next Lord of Casterly Rock!"

"He will have to take the last name 'Lannister'," Cassana pointed out, "but our uncle Tyrion is the rightful heir!"

"One never argues with the Lord of Casterly Rock," said Steffon, who could not resist mimicking their mother.

Cassana giggled. "I wish we see more of Uncle Tyrion," she said longingly. "He always lightens the mood here. I wonder what possessed him to decide to travel around Westeros from the Wall to the Water Gardens on a sudden whim. I wish he took us with him."

"Mother would never have allowed it."

"I wonder where Uncle Tyrion is now…"

The library door opened. Devan Seaworth. "Lord Steffon, Lady Cassana," said Devan with a polite nod.

"Devan," said Steffon, welcoming him with a broad smile. "What are you doing here? Should you not be learning the art of smuggling?" Devan cracked the tiniest of smiles. "No my lord," he answered honestly. "My father left his smuggling days behind once he entered Lord Baratheon's service."

"Only jesting with you," said Steffon, gesturing for him to come closer. "What book do you have there?"

"A book about the Dance of the Dragons. Shireen – I mean, Lady Shireen – had finished it and asked me to put it back and fetch her another book, this time one about Aegon the Conqueror."

"Shireen…" His elder sister's name sounded almost ghostly. From time to time, he'd accidently forget that he had an older sister cursed with greyscale, an older sister who was confined to her chambers at all times during the day with only a fool and one of the Onion Knight's sons for friends. Father hardly mentioned her; Lady Mother wanted to forget her. If Storm's End was haunted by a living ghost, it would be Shireen.

"How is she?" said Cassana curiously.

"Enjoying good health," Devan responded uncertainly. "She is sweet and kind, but lonely. Unhappy at times. She hears you talking to each other, at times even sees you sparring or eating, and wishes to be there too. Forgive me for speaking so bluntly Lady Cassana."

"My father preferred the blunt truth to lies and flattery," said Steffon quietly. "I don't see why we should not be treated to the truth too."

Encouraged, Devan Seaworth continued. "Lady Shireen would ask about you – she often inquires if you remember her. I tell her you do. She talks a lot about her books, and I fear I cannot offer her a particularly interesting conversation as I've not read as many books as she had." He hesitated. "Go on," Steffon urged. Devan bit his lip. "Lady Shireen asked if I could…smuggle one of you to her rooms," he said in a rush. "She actually asked that a few months ago and…I was too craven to ask any of you that."

"She wants to see us?" said Steffon, not believing his ears.

Devan nodded. "Very much my lord."

"We can go now," said Cassana, her eyes glowing with excitement. "I've often wanted to see Shireen, speak to her even, but Mother always kept me away. What do you say, Steffon? Shall we pay our older sister a long, overdue visit? You know as well as I do that Lady Mother will be in her chambers for quite some time! She will never have to know!"

Steffon nodded slowly. With all the fuss happening in the young Lord Robert's rooms and Mother in her chambers, what better time to finally speak to Shireen? He and Cassana followed Devan out of the library and to the end of the sleeping quarters, anticipation and curiosity pumping through their veins. Steffon knew it was a miracle for Shireen to survive the deadly greyscale – when she was a little girl too – and was aware half her cheek was scarred with it. That was about all he knew of his sister Shireen.

Devan knocked on a door and said softly. "Lady Shireen? It's me, Devan."

The door opened and both Steffon and the girl inside stepped back, their blue eyes marked with surprise and astonishment. For a few minutes, all they did was stare at each other. Finally, Steffon broke the wall of silence and asked. "Are you our sister Shireen?" He wanted to kick himself. What a stupid question! Of course she was his sister Shireen Baratheon! Who else would Devan lead them to? Their lady mother? Now that would be bewildering.

The girl nodded, a smile slowly spreading on her face. "Did Mother finally say you can see me?" she said hopefully.

Steffon shook his head guiltily. "We met Devan in the library and he told us of your wish to see us. We thought, um…well, we wanted…to come and see you, and know you more."

"Really?" Shireen's blue eyes shone like sparkling sapphires Aunt Catelyn had once worn around her neck. "This is not a jape?"

"A jape?" Cassana frowned. "Why would this be a jape?"

"When I was little, one of Lady Mother's maidservants' daughter came here. I thought she wanted to befriend me, but in truth, her friend challenged her to see if I was indeed a human being and not a ghost." The light in her eyes dimmed, but only a little. "I told Father and that girl was never seen again. Devan told me that Father sent the girl and her mother back to the Westerlands in disgrace. He also said that Mother was furious."

Steffon felt his fingers curl into fists. "We are not here because we were dared to," he said, grinding his teeth to keep his rising temper in check. "You are part of the family and we ought to know you more. Mother kept you away from us for all this time…not anymore."

Shireen beamed at them. She opened the door wider and signalled for them to come in. Steffon stepped in and looked around. The room was not large nor tiny and it was bare. There was one small window with a view of the sea, a bed with a plump white pillow and quilt decorated with prancing stags, two tables, with the smaller one holding a tall candle, two chairs and a stool, a large chest, a fireplace, its mouth stuffed with logs, twigs and sticks and an empty shelf. Scattered on the bed and table were a number of books and the only ornament Shireen seemed to possess was a miniature stag carved from weirwood.

"Where do you have supper?" said Cassana curiously. Shireen tapped the chair tucked under the table. "Cotta brings me my meals," she explained, "and when it's cold, she would light me a fire. She doesn't like talking, but from time to time she would give me a smile, and for me, that is enough. Would you like to share a tart with me?" She brought out a small strawberry tart – identical to the ones served at supper last night – and carefully divided it into four even pieces. No doubt she planned to eat it later, pondered Steffon as he thanked her. It is so kind of her to share it with us. Shireen quickly bade them to sit: Devan on the stool, Steffon and Cassana on the two chairs and herself on the bed.

"This tart is delicious," remarked Cassana, probably out of politeness. Shireen smiled at her. "Your dress is lovely," Shireen commented. Cassana glanced down at her black gown lined with gold. Steffon noticed that Shireen was in a gown of dark green. Odd that she did not wear their House colours.

"Where is Patches?" wondered Steffon.

Shireen shrugged. "Out and about I suppose. Did you think it was wrong of our father to send Maester Cressen to Dragonstone? He is not in the best health and I hear Dragonstone is cold and gloomy."

"Father trusts Maester Cressen more than he trusts Maester Jurne, and he did need a trusted man to look after Dragonstone. He probably would have entrusted Dragonstone to Lord Davos if he did not need him in King's Landing."

"Quite true, Steffon." Steffon felt odd hearing her calling him by his name. He'd expected her not to know his name at all. "I wish Father would visit us more," she went on. "I enjoy reading, but at times wish I could do something else. I can sew a little, but that is dull." Steffon casted a sly sidewards glance at Cassana, who liked sewing in her spare time.

"Perhaps sewing would be more enjoyable if you had a companion?" Cassana suggested. "Maybe we could sew together?"

"That would be nice." Shireen smiled at her. "I've started a tapestry the other day. Maybe we can finish it together. It is a tapestry of Storm's End. I know it isn't interesting or romantic, but Storm's End is home."

"Indeed," Steffon agreed. "Home."

"Can I see it?" said Cassana, interested.

Shireen blushed slightly. "It isn't particularly good." She went to her chest and rummaged through it before picking up a medium-sized linen. She shyly handed it to Cassana. Steffon looked at it. From the small patches of embroidery Cassana had showed him last week, Shireen's embroidery was more clumsy and a few of her stitches crooked. Then again, he recalled their mother snapping at Cassana a number of times to straighten her stitches. Probably no on informed Shireen that in her confined childhood.

"It is lovely," said Cassana simply. Her fingers brushed over what appeared to be a half-embroidered tower. "Very pretty."

"Thank you," said Shireen, beaming with pleasure. "Devan, can you please go and keep an eye out for Mother? I do not wish for my brother and sister to be in trouble for speaking to me."

"Of course my lady," said Devan, who looked happy to oblige in her request. "I will go immediately." He dipped his head at Cassana and Steffon and hurried out, almost skipping in a manner similar to Patchface. Steffon bit his lip, hiding a tiny, upcoming smile. Cassana also seemed to conceal a lingering grin.

"I heard you enjoy reading," spoke Cassana. "Any books in particular?"

"I am currently reading 'The Princess and the Queen'," said Shireen, pointing at the fat book on her table. "Last time Uncle Tyrion visited, he wasn't afraid to talk to me. He spoke about his childhood fondness of dragons and suggested I read a book about the Dance of the Dragons. Back then I was reading 'Kin of the Stag', as I was interested in the history of the Stormlands. I still am, but Uncle Tyrion had proposed I read more about the history of Westeros starting from the Dawn Age. Our library didn't have many books about that time period and I asked our uncle if he could borrow me a few when he returned to King's Landing."

"Did he agree?" said Steffon, biting down a twinge of jealousy. Why was Uncle Tyrion allowed to see Shireen while he, Cassana and their younger siblings were almost encouraged to stay away from her? Then again, Uncle Tyrion never liked to listen to Mother. When they were in Storm's End's Great Hall, their arguments could be heard throughout Storm's End.

"He said he'll see what he can do. He wrote to me too." She went to her drawer and returned, clutching a massive stack of letters bound together by a long black ribbon, its edges frayed. "Devan would sneak Uncle Tyrion's letters to me in case Mother would burn them," Shireen explained. "Wherever he would be, he would write me a letter – he would draw a sigil on the corner of the letter too – and on my latest name day, he wrote me another letter, promising that when he stops by at Casterly Rock for a day or two of respite, he'd send his copies of 'Wonders' and 'Wonders By Man' to me. He said that his own uncle Gerion gave them to him as a name day gift and if I enjoy reading them, he would gift them to me in turn." She beamed. "Uncle Tyrion is so kind. He said that if I am still confined here once I am a lady grown, he'd come and take me away to the Free Cities."

Steffon stared at the pile of letters, envy growing inside of him. Uncle Tyrion sent him more letters than Father did, but never had he mentioned taking him on a tour of the Free Cities or giving him any books. You are the heir of Storm's End, Steffon reminded himself. Everyone knows you and talks to you – how many talk to Shireen? Uncle Tyrion is a dwarf. He of all people can relate to Shireen the most. "I don't know when your name day is," he said uncomfortably.

Shireen smiled at him. "That is alright. I do not know yours either. By any…um, any chance, do our younger siblings remember me?"

"I don't think so," said Steffon truthfully. Cassana shot him a glare. "Why don't you go and…train?" she suggested. "I'd like to talk to Shireen alone. If you want to talk to her too, we can swap in an hour or so."

Fair enough. Steffon stood up and smiled at Shireen. "I'm glad to have finally met you," he said truthfully to her. "I'd like to see you more often too."

"I would too," Shireen responded. "This has been the happiest day of my life – no jest, Steffon. No jest. Thank you for coming here."

Steffon grinned and left her chamber, all signs of jealousy gone. At a leisurely pace, he walked to the training yard, thinking about Shireen. He'd expected a sad girl who did not know how to smile. Instead…he met a happy girl. Lonely but still very happy. Each letter she received she treasured as if it was a precious jewel or dragon egg. Every smile she obtained was similarly priceless to her. Shireen was cursed with the scars of greyscale and outwardly disfigured, but she had a heart of gold – more valuable gold than that found in Casterly Rock.

His mind far away, he picked up his favourite practice blade. One day soon, he would hold a blade of live steel of his own. All the best swords have names; he'd name his Fury – unless his cousin Orys wanted to name his sword or warhammer Fury, then he would name his sword…something else. Perhaps he would ask the Onion Knight (or Onion Lord) for suggestions. Lord Davos Seaworth was always good at choosing names for the ships of the royal fleet. When the king named two of the ships, he named them Lady Lyanna and Queen Cat, after his late betrothed and his wife. Quite sweet, but Steffon preferred the ship names the Onion Knight suggested such as King Robert's Hammer.

With a sigh, Steffon turned his attention to the half dozen practice dummies in front of him. It was more fun sparring with one of the Seaworths. He stabbed the first practice dummy in the heart, spun around and almost yelped with fright, his heart pounding loudly as he came face to face with a stranger.

The stranger was a woman, the most beautiful woman Steffon had laid eyes on. Her hair was the colour of burnished copper and she had pale, unblemished skin. She was tall and moved gracefully as if guided by the wind. Furthermore, she was draped in red, from the red gold choker around her neck to the long gown of red silk that wrapped around her body.

"Can I help you?" Steffon heard himself ask.

The red woman smiled mysteriously. "You are Steffon Baratheon," she stated with an exotic accent, "the son of Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and the Lord Protector of Dragonstone and the Lady Cersei Lannister. I am here to speak to your lady mother. Where might I find her?"

"Who are you?"

The lady's red eyes glowed as she touched the huge ruby that glistened at her throat. "I am a priestess to R'hllor, the Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire, the God of the Flame and the Shadow. My young lord, if it is my name you wish to hear, I am Melisandre. Melisandre of Asshai."


For those of you confused, currently this is in 299 AC. The next chapter will be in 300 AC. I'll remind you again next week when I post the chapter and the appendix :) I hope you don't mind if I post a chapter a week as final semester exams are rolling up in two weeks. I've also added new ASOIAF story ideas I plan to write in my profile page so if there's one you really want me to start, just let me know :)