After everyone had accepted guest rights, they were escorted into the great hall where the servants were busily finishing the preparations for the feast in Robert's honor. Robert was shown to the high table where the Stark family had taken their seats while the guardsmen were seated at a nearby table. Robert was pleased to see that he was placed next to Lyanna. She was less pleased by the seating arrangements and did her best to hide her displeasure, which is to say not well at all. Robert knew he had to be patient so figured small steps would need to be taken. Eventually as the food was served and Lord Rickard stood to address his gathered household and bannermen.
"My friends, we gather here to celebrate the safe return of my son Eddard and the arrival of the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands Robert Baratheon. May our houses grow more closely united." The crowd gave a hearty reply before partaking in the provided feast. Robert turned to Lyanna and tried to start a conversation. She was making it difficult however as she focused on catching up with Eddard who sat on her other side. Eddard saw Robert's look and tried to help.
"I'm so sorry Lyanna, I must go relieve myself. We can speak more when I return." As he stood Lyanna glared at him obviously picking up that he was in league with Robert. Robert jumped on the chance immediately.
"So, Lady Lyanna, I am told that you are quite the rider." Robert figured that leading off with one of her major interests might be a good opening move.
"Aye my lord Baratheon," she said in a forced sweet and demure tone. "It is a guilty pleasure of mine; I know that it is not a pastime of a lady of high birth. I can only imagine that it reflects poorly on me." She said in a convincingly guilty sad tone. Robert was impressed at this gambit; she was trying to dissuade him by playing up her lack of standard femininity. It was a tactical blunder however as it was one of her better traits in his mind.
"Hardly, my lady. Anyone who would look down on you for it must just be jealous that you can ride circles around them." He replied congenially. Lyanna's eyes went wide for a moment before she recovered and tried to press the attack.
"Perhaps my Lord, but I am hardly skilled in the feminine arts like southern ladies. I can't sing and my embroidery is atrocious." She said in a somber tone trying to play up her lack of southern refinement.
"You know, I've come to realize that perhaps all of those things are not all they are cracked up to be. Did you know that Lord Howland Reed's betrothed, Jyana Greengood, asked me to a spar while we were at Greywater Watch? I was rather impressed with her skills." Robert could tell that he had slipped pass Lyanna's defenses as she a brief moment lit up looking forward to the story before she remembered her objective and covered her mouth as if scandalized. Unfortunately, her brother Brandon had to put his two coppers in.
"What? Was the mighty Lord of Storm's End bested by a frog eating wench?" He said mockingly.
"Brandon," Lord Rickard rumbled quietly. "Don't speak of our loyal bannermen is such a way."
"No," replied Robert annoyed at the interruption. "I won without much effort, but I was impressed none the less. Not only that but it was Lord Howland who taught her." Robert saw Lyanna give her father a brief look.
"Lord Robert, please don't encourage my daughter. The Neck is hardly Winterfell or Storm's End. Things are done differently there." The head of House Stark said with a cautioning tone.
"Of course, Lord Stark. I simply meant a woman need only find a man who can appreciate not only their beauty but their unique skills and interests." Robert said earnestly. Lyanna was taken back by those words he could tell, so he decided to try and reinforce the point. "Besides, we're Baratheons and Starks two of the greatest houses of in the seven kingdoms. Who cares what lesser men and women say about us?" After letting out a booming laugh, He looked over to Lyanna hoping to see a thoughtful or perhaps stunned look on her face, but instead he saw a sinister smile. It seemed as if it was he who had now made a tactical mistake.
"That is true Lord Baratheon, so you must not care about what they say about you then." She said in a singsong tone that held exactly no playfulness.
"Lyanna." Her father said in a stern tone.
"I hear they say that you are a womanizer with a new woman in his bed every night and bastards across the Vale, hardly a paragon of southron knighthood. But you are a Baratheon as you say, who cares what lesser houses think." She had a victorious smirk on her face. It stung to listen hear her say those things, and Robert definitely did not like having his words thrown back at him in such a way.
"Lyanna! You will not speak to our guest in that way! Apologize and then return to your chambers and think about what you've done." Rickard admonished. Lyanna stood and curtsied low.
"My apologies Lord Baratheon" When she stood up and swept away, the victorious smirk was still on her face. She passed a returning Eddard on her way out and punched him in the arm before hissing something into her ear.
"Are you sure you want to pursue her Lord Robert?" Brandon said with a chuckle. "I hear there are easier ladies down south for you to chase after. I am sure many have already fallen for your charms." Robert was feeling his blood rise at the suggestive tone Brandon spoke with. What angered him the most is that before his return he might have said something just like that if he was in Brandon's place. Robert was saved from replying when Lord Stark interrupted.
"Brandon, shut up before I throw you out too." he said with a heavy sigh. Eventually Eddard returned to his seat with a puzzled look on his face.
"What just happened? Why did Lyanna tell me this was all my fault?"
Distracted from his anger by the question, Robert took a moment to process everything that had happened. All manner of thoughts started vying for attention in his mind. Hadn't he said to Ned in his past life that Lyanna would never have publicly shamed him like Cersei had? Well, she just did. This of course made Robert wonder if he was still seeing the version of Lyanna that he had built up over years of unhappy marriage. He came to the conclusion that he needed to throw all of his assumptions out the window, and start fresh. True he had heard many stories, but he never knew the real Lyanna Stark.
He thought about what really made her attractive to him. For one, he admired her spirit. Many men would be intimidated by her fire and would never approach. Others would see her as a challenge and work to break her in like a rebellious mare. Robert saw someone who could keep him honest and challenge him to be better. How she had treated Howland at Harrenhal proved the she was loyal and kind despite what others would say. Plus, he would love a wife who would go hunting with him. Yes, she was worth pursuing. Robert ended up letting out a long loud laugh, while those around him stared as if he was mad.
"My apologies my lords. It seems I have underestimated the 'wolf blood' as you call it. I think what we saw was a wolf unwilling to be caged." Robert smiled
"She will do her duty to House Stark and House Baratheon." Rickard responded firmly.
"Possibly." Robert sighed remembering what the gods had told him, "I would rather she agree to it willingly, it would save a lot of pain. We can speak of this another time, let us eat and enjoy ourselves." The others agreed with the sentiment and the feast continued. Robert knew he had pressed too hard tonight and had let himself be outflanked. He had to be patient and he had plenty of time. He could do this.
The feast had finally wound down and the inhabitants of Winterfell were beginning to bed down for the night. Robert was shown to his quarters by Eddard.
"I'm sorry, I didn't expect her to be so antagonistic. I plan on talking to her about it." Eddard said apologized as they reached the door to Robert's guest room.
"And again, you don't need to apologize. I knew it wouldn't be easy. She would be daft if she didn't see the betrothal coming and obviously doesn't want to be tied to a man like me." Robert said with a sigh.
"Like you used to be you mean." Eddard corrected helpfully.
"True but showing up and yelling that I'm a changed man is hardly a great way to start a conversation." Robert replied with a chuckle.
"Aye, have a good night, Rob." Eddard patted Robert on the shoulder and turned to leave. Robert entered the room and started preparing for bed. He debated whether or not to focus on pursuing Lyanna in the morning, or if he should give her space. Perhaps he could help her feel at ease if he did not seem over eager to win her over. So, as he closed his eyes for the night and drifted off to sleep, he decided that the next day would be spent practicing his jousting and perhaps even a visit to Old Nan.
The next morning, he awoke quite early but decided to go about his routine as usual. When he asked a passing servant if the Stark family had broken their fast yet, he was told that they had yet to rise. Deciding to simply eat in his room, he asked for a simple meal to be brought to him so that he could prepare for the day. After eating he planned to exercise in the yard. When he exited the guest building however, he found a number of individuals already braving the cold winter air to train and spar. Overseeing the whole affair was an older but stout man with white whiskers wearing the arms of House Cassel. Robert remembered the Master-of-Arms of Winterfell being a Rodrick Cassel. It must be the man's father or an uncle since the resemblance was canny. Either way he approached the man to ask to join the men training as curtesy dictated.
"Hail Master Cassel, I am surprised to see so many men training on a cold winter day like this. May I join you? Perhaps someone might be interested in a spar?"
"Greetings my Lord Baratheon. This winter is barely colder than the coldest summer days we see here in the North. Some even wonder if winter has truly come. As for a spar, I'm sure my son Martyn would be a good match." The master-at-arms waved down a fairly young man that Robert instantly recognized. During the rebellion, Eddard was rarely seen without the northern warrior at his side. Martyn took the role of protecting his liege lord very seriously, and his loss at that cursed Tower of Joy was yet another tragedy Robert was determined to avoid. Robert noticed that he had a grim expression on his face, different from the usual wry smile he often wore when on campaign. Robert wasn't sure what to make of it but prepared for the spar regardless.
The two men finished their preparations and entered the sparing area with few words. After the customary solute, Robert was surprised to not be the aggressor for once. Martyn quickly closed the distance and struck out; Robert just managed to parry the blow with his shield. Blow after blow came in and Robert found himself surprised by the ferocity; it was also frustrating him to no end. Eventually he had enough and found his opening. The younger Cassel came in with a masterfully executed high strike which Robert stepped into and blocked with his shield. Martyn expecting a counterstroke from Robert's hammer had raised his own shield in defense leaving himself open to a vicious kick to the side of the knee. Martyn's leg went numb and buckled almost immediately. As he was falling Robert struck out with his hammer possibly a bit harder than he normally would during a friendly spar. Martyn managed to get his own shield up in time to intercept the blow, but the sound of splintering wood signaled that Robert had definitely overdone it. Realizing that he had let the Baratheon fury go a too far, he stepped back from the downed man. Robert could hear shouts from around him and cries for the Maester. Robert for his part felt pretty sorry for what he had done and went to reach a hand to the downed man.
"My apologies friend, I let my anger get the best of me." Martyn had the sense to take the hand as honor dictated but found that his leg would not hold his weight when he tried to stand. Robert tried to support him, but the angry man just shrugged it off. Rodrick rushed in and grabbed Martyn helping him away to the edge of the yard to wait for the Maester. Robert watched with no small amount of annoyance.
"I apologies for his actions my lord." The older Cassel said sadly. "He just lost another son to fever not two nights ago, all that remains is his son Jory who is a squire to Lord Cerwyn. I had hoped some training could shake him from this darkness." Robert could definitely empathize with not dealing with pain well.
"I see, then will I take no offense. I am not one to speak when it comes to letting my anger get the best of me." Robert said thoughtfully. The Master-at-Arms glanced down to the ruined shield and simply nodded.
"I doubt many men will wish to spar with you after that demonstration." The older man said after a moment.
"Yes, well, I can practice on my own for now. You should be proud of your son; he fights with incredible skill even when so distracted. I doubt any but the most skilled knights of the realm could overcome him." Robert said with a laugh, but inside he knew it was the truth. His thoughts were interrupted by clapping. He turned to find the Stark heir walking onto the yard.
"Most impressive Lord Robert, I saw the match from above. If you are done maiming my father's bannermen, perhaps you'd like to test your skills against mine?" Brandon said in a congenial tone. Robert was bothered by the callousness shown by Eddard's older brother, and still harbored ill feelings from their interaction from the previous night. The embers of Robert anger were reignited, and he grinned at the chance to put Brandon in his place.
"Of course, Lord Brandon, I'd be happy to see what the Wild Wolf of Winterfell has to show me." Robert stretched and ran through some forms trying to keep warm as Brandon donned his training equipment . Before long they were facing each other in the yard. They saluted and entered their stances. Brandon was wielding a greatsword of castle forged steel. Robert guessed that Stark men trained with such weapons in order to wield their family's sword in battle. Unlike Eddard however, nothing in Brandon's stance read defense; he looked like a wolf ready to pounce. They watched each other for a few heartbeats trying to figure out who would make the first move. Robert decided to take the initiative lashing out with a hammer strike towards Brandon's chest. Brandon skillfully countered the move by taking a quick step out of range before launching into his own attacks. Robert had to admit that Brandon was excellent at attacking while protecting himself from counters; the greatsword he carried moved almost like a blur. He felt the anger and frustration rising, but he fought it down for now and decided to take a page from Eddard's style. Robert shifted into a much more defensive stance and gave up opportunities for counters in order to try and lull Brandon into leaving himself open for something. Robert's blood sang when his patience was finally rewarded. It was small, but Robert saw the chance to step inside Brandon's reach and go for a grapple. The move took the overconfident Brandon by complete surprise, and he soon found himself being lifted off the ground only to be slammed bodily onto his back. Robert stared down out the stunned face of his opponent with a victorious smile.
"Yield?"
"Aye, I Yield." Brandon said with a wheezing laugh. "You don't fight like a southron knight." The tone of his voice made it clear that it was a complement.
"I fight to win." Robert stated. The fire inside of him started dying down as he offered a hand to his downed opponent. One thing that death could never change in Robert was the love of the fight, the adrenaline, the challenge. He could respect those that shared that love too, something he definitely saw in Eddard's older brother.
"As you should, come let's walk and talk." Brandon said gesturing away from where the men were still training. They doffed their equipment and put on cloaks to ward off the winter cold. Robert followed Brandon's lead as they abled around the grounds of the castle.
"From what I hear from Eddard and others, you and I are alike in many ways." Brandon said jovially.
"What do you mean?" Robert asked warily
"We are well liked by the men who follow us, quick to anger and quick to forgive, and we aren't afraid to take what we want." Brandon replied with a smile. "I am sure there were plenty of maids for you to take to your bed on those cold nights during your travels here."
"You assume I would want just any maiden." Robert felt the anger building, but he tried to keep it from showing in his voice.
"So, you've come to secure a betrothal with Lyanna." Brandon said
"I have." Robert responded wondering where Brandon was taking the conversation.
"You know, father is so eager for our houses to be bound by marriage you could have sent a raven saying, 'give me Lyanna' and he would have accepted." Brandon stated.
"Your point?" Robert asked, not liking where he was going.
"My point is that there is no reason for you to be here. And since you are, I must ask why you've really come." Brandon stated flat out. "Are you here to see if she is worth it, or possibly try the goods? You and I both know the joys of a bloody sword." His tone was disgustingly suggestive, but it changed instantly. "I swear if you dishonor her, I will gut you and feed your honorless corpse to the dogs. Then I will take my men south to Storm's End and burn it to the ground with your brothers inside to ensure House Baratheon never rises again" Brandon said with a menacing growl. Robert could appreciate a brother being protective of his sister, he knew that it would be best to deescalate. But Robert was already tired of the lewd remarks, and that along with the threat against him and his house meant that he could no longer keep a lid on his anger.
"You dare question my motives, and threaten me and my house?" Robert barely kept his response from being a roar. "You of all people have no grounds to speak to me about honor. You're already betrothed and still seeking out the bed of highborn lady who you have no intention of wedding. For the sake of your brother whom I love, I will let your insults pass but speak to me like this again and I will have satisfaction." Robert was standing at his full height glaring down at the Stark heir. His bright blue eyes boring into stormy grey. Robert could see the wrath burning behind Brandon's eyes, and there was a moment of smoldering tension before Brandon snarled and threw a fist at Robert's jaw.
Unable to guard in time Robert took it on the chin. It stunned him for a moment, but he had grown up brawling with his brother Stannis, and his brother hit much harder than this Northern lordling. The Baratheon fury was unleashed as he grabbed Brandon by the collar picked him up off the ground and delivered a headbutt that rewarded Robert with the satisfying crunch of a broken nose. Brandon was not one to give up so easily however, and the wolf blood was howling in his ears. It quickly devolved into a brawl as the two fell to the ground rolling around with knees, elbows, and fists flying. Robert could barely make out the cry of a woman somewhere and then the shouting of men. Eventually Robert felt arms and hands trying to separate the two of them.
Thankfully Robert was able to come to his senses before he attacked the men trying to restrain him. He was dazed and bloodied by the scrap but looking over at Brandon who was fighting to be free of the men holding him back, it seemed as if he had come off better from the exchange.
"By the gods, what happened here!" Bellowed a furious Lord Rickard Stark. His normal calm demeanor shed and his face red.
"Father, throw this honorless southron dog out of our home. We don't need him; the North doesn't need anyone else!" Brandon yelled in a nasally voice.
"Brandon, quiet yourself or I'll have my men gag you. Can anyone tell me what happened here?" Questioned the Lord of Winterfell.
"Excuse me, my Lord Stark, I saw what happened." Robert looked over to the source of the voice. A young man was holding up his hand. Robert was surprised, he had the looks of someone no older than ten name days but was already as tall as most full-grown men.
"Speak then Walder." Rickard commanded.
"I was on my way to the stables as normal when I saw them leaving the training yard. They were just talking, I couldn't hear, and it was not my place to listen, but then I saw Lord Brandon strike the Lord Baratheon who responded by hitting him in the head. I ran to get the other men so try and stop it my lord." The boy meekly relayed what he had seen.
"Brandon," The Lord said turning to his son, his anger turning cold as winter. "Is this true? You struck a Lord Paramount, a Lord under guest rights?"
"He questioned my honor and the honor of house Stark." Brandon growled. Robert couldn't help but scoff at the heir's words.
"You have something to say Lord Baratheon?" Lord Stark said in the same tone he had questioned his son in. Robert was far beyond the point of self-control.
"Brandon's brashness will get himself and many others killed someday. If I didn't know your second son was such a good man, I'd weep for the future of the north." Robert could tell that behind the mask, Rickard was incensed at his words. Fortunately, Eddard, who had been quietly observing all this time, stepped in.
"Father, perhaps we should take this someplace private to work out."
"Yes, that would be wise. We have much to discuss." Robert thought Rickard's words were quite ominous.
A/N Leaving things off on a bit of a cliff hanger here. I went through so many different versions of this chapter because I was going back and forth on how I wanted Robert and Brandon to interact. I am eager to hear what you think. As for the spar with Martyn, I was inspired after watching a video on the most brutal leg kicks in MMA. It is crazy how nasty some of those kicks can be.