Errol I
Somewhere in Shipbreaker Bay, 296 AC
The wheather today was unusually calm, for the Stormlands. There were just a few clouds in the sky, and enough wind to propel the ship's sails. It was also quite warm. Not as much as the days in Dorne, but warm nonetheless.
Errol walked back and forth, like he did every time he was nervous. He had been doing that for quite some time, and by now, he was sure his feet had left a trail on the ship's deck.
I must stay calm, I must stay calm, he kept on telling himself. He took a couple of deep breaths. I must stay calm.
Look at yourself, said his inner voice. Father would be ashamed of you. Letting your anxiety ruling yourself like this...
Shut up! Father isn't here, he thought. He was accustomed to talking with himself. It was something that helped him think clearly and ease the tension. Of course, nobody else knew about that. At the very least, they would lock him into a room and never let him out. And even if he were, I couldn't care less about what he thinks. Errol had never let his father's opinions rule his actions, and he wasn't going to do it now.
You should calm down, the voice said again. It's almost as if you were riding into battle against Balerion the Black Dread. Relax. Father raised you better than that.
Errol stopped in his tracks. If you mention Father once again, I swear I will...
You will, what? Hit me? You would just end up hurting yourself. Besides, you know I'm right. You aren't doing something particularly troublesome. You are just heading toward the place you were assigned.
And you think it's nothing I should concern myself with? It's the castle where I will be spending the rest of my life! The House I will be serving!
And what do you think their first impression of you will be, when they will see a nervous wreck entering their halls? They will dismiss you as a weakling! They will say "Look at this one! Are all Dornishmen so pathetic?" Is that what you want?
Errol grunted. As much as he hated to admit it, his inner voice was right. He wanted to make a good impression on his future lord and lady, and he couldn't do that if his nerves got the better of him.
What do you suggest?
Nothing too complicated. Just clear your mind, and think of something relaxing.
Errol did just that. He thought of the blood oranges he loved so much, of how the juice would run down his chin and neck every time he took a few bites. He thought of his early childhood, and the entire days spent running around the Water Gardens and playing with his cousins and sisters. He thought of the first time he had witnessed the vast libraries of Oldtown. All those thousands and thousands of books, with their knowledge and wisdom...
Those thoughts managed to bring a measure of peace to his mind, and a little smile to his face.
See? What did I tell you?
He put his hands on the railing and sighed. You were right, he thought begrudgingly. He heard the voice chuckle, and after that it thankfully went silent. Errol just stared at the horizon, and waited.
After a while, when he was starting to wonder if they would ever arrive, he heard a sailor cry. He looked up, and finally saw it.
Storm's End loomed in the far distance, surrounded by its massive wall, a shield from the fury of the elements. Its only, colossal tower stood against the sky, an act of defiance toward the gods of sea and air and a testament to the willfulness of its masters.
Gods, it's...it's huge. The Hightower of Oldtown was taller, but Storm's End was still an impressive sight. Both had been built in the ancient past by the First Men, and both had been the bane of many a besieging army over the centuries.
There it is, the voice came back. Our new home.
He wondered if he would ever come to think of the massive castle as home. Well, at the very least I will get used to it.
There was no safe anchorage by the castle, so they had to dock somewhere else. Errol took that time to ready himself. He thought of the Baratheons, and wondered what kind of people they were. Of course, he would do his best to serve them. He thought of their current, ageing maester, and hoped they would get along.
Stop thinking, just...
Shut up! Errol thought, and patiently waited for the ship to dock.
AN: This came out shorter than I originally intended. Anyway, meet young Errol Sand, the "vastly different canon character" I mentioned earlier. What do I mean? You will find out in his next POV. Just know that in canon he was born female.
In two weeks there'll be an interlude, and after that the first chapter of the second part of the story, where we'll see a familiar face paying a visit at Winterfell.
Thanks for reading, folks!