A/N: Alright. Finally finished this chapter. Hopefully it shows a little more of our Princess's character. And Robb's for that matter. I've left a couple place holders in for fun. because it really doesn't matter who Prince FaceDude is or where he's from. He's just here for our laughter. I made Eldarion a little wild and silly. I enjoy his character though.
I'd also like the leave a note that this is not Westeros, its Middle Earth. The storylines with intersect at parts, but sometimes the GoT line might shine brighter then the LotR line. And so on. Also. We're technically still in the exposé of the story, the plot hasn't even really be set out yet. So just hang in there.
I want to dedicate this chapter to StrawberriCat cause they have showed interest in the story which spurred me enough to finish the new chapter.
So, enjoy.
Chapter 4: It Is Sung to the Moon by a Love Lorn Loon, Who Fled From the Mocking Throng. It's a Song of a Merry Maid, Made Purely Proud, Who Loved a Lord and Who Laughed Aloud.
Lindânâ.
The Grand Hall was abuzz with activity as the courtiers and nobles mingled about, all waiting their turn to present the princess and her father with words of thanks and flattery. Lindânâ watched from her high seat as the boys just kept pouring in, old men, younglings barely of age, brave soldiers and knights. Any man of highbirth.
"Sit up straight." He father said as a boy from the East walked away, his head slightly hung.
"I don't want to sit up straight." She whined but sat up anyway smiling as the next boy mounted the steps. Even if it was her life they were sealing off to the highest bidder, it was still fun to sit and drink and watch Princes humiliate themselves. Her younger sister Elil did not seem to think it was so fun. She was sitting with her arms crossed a deep frown on her face.
"Smile, honey." Their mother said a sharp point to her elf eyes.
"I don't feel like smiling." Elil said
Father turned toward her and smirked "You're royalty, fake it." Lindânâ's twin brother Eldarion laughed loudly, slipping summerwine on the floor. Their mother glared.
"Restrain yourself Eldarion." She hissed and Lindânâ stuck her royal tongue out at the boy she'd shared a womb with, before turning back and seeing the boy standing before her. He was young, barley 18, a high collar around his pale neck.
"Good evening, Yo-o-our Grace." He stuttered and Lindânâ wondered if it was real or if he was just scared. She felt bad for him all the same. She could see the boy's father standing off the side, glaring, and she knew that this would end badly for the boy.
"And what is your name, boy?" Aragorn asked kindly.
"[name], Son of [name]. From [place]. My K-k-king." He said nervously before going on "If y-y-you choose me t-t-to have your daughter's hand, mi L-l-lord, it would honor m-m-my...well my honor!" Lindânâ's eyes went wide and suppressed a laugh as she found a hidden meaning in the words and her brother giggled again.
The boy blushed as he reheard what he had said and stuttered trying to find words to fix his mistake. Aragorn smiled kindly again and dismissed the boy who retreated to his father with a look worthy of his sentence.
"Poor boy." Lindânâ murmured feeling guilty for his mistake. Their party would leave tonight, she knew, not wanting to offend the King any farther. The boy would be punished.
He brother seemed to sense her discomfort handed her his goblet. "He'll be fine, he'll go back to [place] and find some milk maid whom he loves more then a forced marriage to my beautiful sister."
Lindânâ rolled her eyes. Eldarion was the spitting image of their father, same dark hair and challenging eyes, they shared their mother's beauty, making him look young and girly, elfin features on a Man's body.
The next boy to stand in front of her was a man named Renly Baratheon, Son of Steffon from the South, and his brother Stannis Baratheon was next. Where Renly was kind and gentle, he'd even kissed her hand, Stannis was brooding and harsh. He hadn't even glanced at her when he'd mounted the steps. She could see her father's distaste of the man.
"You know who they are right?" her brother whispered. "They're Stags, like the King of the South, Robert. They're his brothers. I heard his son Joffery is here to ask for your hand."
Lindânâ rolled her eyes at him, she'd met Prince Joffery once before. It was a few years ago, when she was young, at a party her father had hosted for her eldest sister's wedding. Robert Baratheon had come from Hyarmen to drink the fine elf-wine they'd served and the young Lindânâ and Joffery were sat together because of the closeness of their ages. Joffery had pulled Lindânâ's hair and taken her sweetbread and then denied it when she told her father. Her father and Joffery's mother had gotten into an argument, in which it had been decided that Lindânâ was obviously a lying thief, or that's was Cersi Lannister Baratheon said. Her father was disgruntled at the family for the rest of their stay.
"I hope he doesn't show up. He's not even of age." Lindânâ whispered to her brother "I hate that boy. He's awful. And all girly."
"Hey." Eldarion glared and Lindânâ smirked back. "Tyrell was 'girly'."
"No. He was gay." She said with a superior look. "There's a difference, I'll have you know."
Eldarion snorted and raised his eyebrows "Right. And how would you know? He's the best in the joust in all the Kingdoms of Man."
"That doesn't make him straight."
"Lindânâ!" Mother scolded and the princess turned to see that an other suitor had approached them. Lindânâ smiled apologetically at the boy. He was tall, with wide strong shoulders. Auburn curls framed his strong jaw, and light eyes.
He knelt like all the others and upon standing said "My King, Robb Stark Son of Borimir." He looked nervous, Lindânâ could tell. She could also tell that her father liked the boy very much.
"Mae govannen, Robb Stark." Father said nodded "And what have you brought my daughter?" Robb swallowed hard and brought out a small rectangle wrapped in cloth.
"I have brought this." He said pulling the satin back to reveal a leather bound book. "I…. My family is not as wealthy as some of the other suitors here, and I heard tell of your love for books." He wasn't addressing Aragorn anymore, but Lindânâ herself. "I thought maybe, you would like it better then, forty gold piece or a fleet of ships. Although it is less useful in wartime then ships."
Lindânâ smiled all the same and clutched the book to her breast. "Thank you, Robb Stark of Winterfell." She was well learned on where the important families were from. Borimir's old holdfast was an important place on the map, her Father said. And to rule one must understand where and how one's Lords live. Lindânâ glanced over at her mother who was giving her a look along the lines of 'dismiss the boy now.' But Lindânâ did not feel like dismissing Robb Stark just yet.
"Thank you. I am tired of sitting. Robb Stark, would you honor me with a dance?" Lindânâ asked. Robb seemed at a loss for words and he looked over to where the rest of his party sat for help. There was a boy there, tall like Robb, and probably of the same age and in an instant Lindânâ could tell that they were brothers.
"I'm sorry, my Princess." Robb said after making a few gapping faces like a drowning fish. "It would not be appropriate." Robb looked behind Lindânâ, and she turned to see her mother smiling approvingly.
Lindânâ set her jaw in that moment and stood, pushing back her chair with a loud noise. "That is quiet alright Robb Stark." She said looking back at the boy Robb had looked to. "You," She said pointing to him, "Will you dance with me?"
