Robert Baratheon was many things. The First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the first men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm. But he knew that not all people in his realm respected him. He had many enemies in the south, supporters of the old Targaryen royal family. Oh how he still hated that family, though he had sworn to let the Targaryen girl in the south live. He wasn't sure whether it was the best or the worst thing Jon Arryn had talked him into. But the old man was insistent. And he was damn right in doing so. Without the hard work of the Hand of the King, the realm would have been destroyed by another war years ago. Jon Arryn had given them nine years of absolute peace. Robert had never been so bored in life before.
But the girl and her supporters still called him a usurper. They still hated his guts for rebelling against the Targaryen king, for his part in the deaths of Elia Martell and the infant Aegon Targaryen. Though the public knew that it was not him, but Tywin Lannister who was responsible for their deaths, the murder was still a dark stain on his reign. Never before had there been a king with so little support in the south. Not since the Targaryens had managed to turn Dorne into a part of their kingdom.
But all of that didn't matter to him at the moment. No, right now he enjoyed traveling through his realm, accompanied by his best friend Eddard and their sons, as they were on their way to the biggest Tourney since Harrenhal, the first big chance to tell his small council to go to hell and let him travel, without bothering for the duties of a king. Not even Jon Arryn was able to dissuade him.
Here, away from that accursed capital city, away from the majority of his burdens as king, he felt so much more alive than he had in years. Ever since he had claimed the throne and been crowned king, he had felt the suffocating pressure of his crown. That blasted thing was cursed, no doubt. Or maybe it was him who was cursed. Cursed to a life that did not allow him to follow his own wishes, due to his many obligations. Cursed with a marriage to a woman he would never be able to love, solely for the fact that she was not the one who had once captured his heart. Cursed to be away from his best friend, who was the Warden of the North, leaving him only with sycopahnts and scheming opportunists around him. The gods must hate him for torturing him so, tha was the only explanation he could find for all of this.
This Tourney was also the first time he had a chance to meet Eddard in almost nine years. Nine damn years. They both had their duties and they both would fulfill them somehow. But now... now they were on their way to a grand celebration and he felt as if he was a young boy again. Like all those years ago, when he was still a young man, strong and healthy, and when his beloved Lyanna was still alive. He would relish this feeling for as long as he could.
"Look alive, lads. Highgarden, home of House Tyrell." Robert exclaimed loudly, as they neared the castle... and the city of tents around it. Not even Highgarden, the ancestral seat of House Tyrell, would be big enough to house all the guests, so everyone would stay outside the castle, in tents, decorated in the colors of the houses. Everyone would stay there, from the lowest knight to the king himself. It was actually Robert's idea to stay in a tent as well, mostly to spite his wife, among other reasons. The Tyrells had offered the king to stay at the castle, among the other honored guests, but Robert said no.
Cersei, of course, had raged and complained for days when she heard that. Staying in a tent, an outrageous way for a Queen to live. So dirty and uncivilized. Robert had merely laughed at her and ignored her complaints. He wouldn't have been sorry, if she had decided to stay in King's Landing. But she insisted on coming, never giving him the true reason for that, not that he would have cared at all.
"Careful, your grace, we don't want you to fall of your horse again, do we now?" Eddard said jestingly, as he saw the almost childish glee on his old friends face. "And be careful boys, don't forget that not all people here are as loyal to the crown as you want them to be."
"Ah allow the lads to have some fun." Robert said, as he looked over his shoulder towards the other riders near him. His oldest son, Joffrey, was among them, together with Eddard's sons, Robb and Jon. Robert was glad that he had his son and heir with him, too long had Joffrey been away. It had been nigh on five years since he had sent his son to the Starks to be fostered. Away from the dangers and plots at King's Landing. As far away from the Targaryen loyalists as physically possible in the Seven Kingdoms. And away from his scheming mother, who had far too much influence on the boy for Robert's liking. His son was a Baratheon of Storm's End, but his wife would have turned him into a Lannister through and through, if he had given her the chance to. Maybe he was now also a little bit more like the wolf he had always wished for his son to be...
Back then, Cersei had not talked to him for nearly a year. She wouldn't even see him, after he had sent their son away. Her fury would have been troublesome... if Robert had cared for it at all. But he didn't. He cared for his children, but not for her. Never for her. She was little more than a political tool Jon Arryn had chosen to pacify the realm with. And not even once had Robert been willing to give her the chance to become more. And she stopped trying to win him over mere weeks after their marriage.
"Be wary of the Dornishmen, lads. They support us only out of necessity. Their loyalty is questionable at best and they harbor the last Targaryen left in this realm. They won't outright attack you, but they will try to manipulate you in whatever way benefits them the most." Eddard cautioned his sons and ward, as they approached the city of tents. Robert knew that Ned was not as enthusiastic to come here as he was. The northern lord had many concerns about the safety and loyalty of the southern lords. Rightfully so, but Robert would hear none of it. He wouldn't run away and hide from his enemies. He would tear them asunder, should they dare to revolt.
They could already see the banners, Frey, Tully, Crakenhall, Yronwood, Royce and many more. Some of the guests had arrived days ago, all to prepare for the arrival of the king and his entourage. Men from all corners of the kingdom lined the street, some bowed to the king out of respect, others merely watched him curiously, as Robert finally entered the city of tents.
"Look over there," Robb said, as he saw one tent that was built differently than others. It was bigger, surrounded by many smaller tents that were connected to it. And in front of it were four banners. Robb recognized them all from Maester Luwin's lessons. Martell, Targaryen, Dayne and Lannister. And in front of the tent stood a group of women, crowded around one black haired girl, her unique eyes plain visible even at this distance.
"That is the dragon princess, Rhaenys Targaryen," Eddard said, as he saw who his son was referring to. "Those banners represent the Houses tied to her. Martell and Targaryen, the Houses of her mother and father, and Lannister and Dayne, the Houses of her sworn knight and protector and his wife."
"You mean my uncle and his family?" Joffrey said somewhat displeased. His mother rarely said a good word about her brother's family. She always said that her brother was a good man, lead astray and corrupted by that Targaryen girl and the vicious woman he was forced to marry. His father never talked about the wife, but only referred to his uncle as the Kingslayer, much to his mother's ever growing ire.
It was the very moment Robert looked in the direction of that girl, when Rhaenys looked at him as well. It was a silent battle of wills, as both stared at each other. One that neither was willing to loose, but one that Robert couldn't win as he had to continue onward, towards the royal tents that had already been erected days prior, surrounded by fences and guarded jealously by members of the Kingsguard.
"Stay away from that one, Joffrey. She may be pretty, but she is still a Targaryen. All of her family are mad one way or another." Robert ordered his heir sternly. But Joffrey still looked at her and her entourage. Jon was the same, watching the dragon princess curiously. And Robb, he only had a brief look at the infamous princess. He averted his gaze quickly, after he had been caught staring. Not at the princess, but at one of her companions. Now he preferred riding next to his father and the king, hopefully undetected in the close proximity of two men that were so much more interesting to the people around them.
But soon their group split up, as Robert and his family and servants advanced towards the royal tents, while Eddard and his sons lead their group towards the more modest tents of the Stark household.
Oh how Robert already hated his own accommodations. Gold and red everywhere. And so many unnecessary things. A king has to show his wealth and live in luxury, his wife had said. But he knew that she merely wished to live in comfort, even out here. And he bloody hated it. He would have preferred for her to stay at King's Landing, together with their youngest children. Only him and his heir, together with their friends and bannermen. A small taste of what it would be like during a war, without the real danger to their lives. He knew that Eddard would not bring such overbearing and useless trinkets and live more practical. Well maybe with a few accommodations for his daughters, who had come along. But not like this. He snorted almost in disgust when he saw what his wife had ordered to be brought here.
"The Red Keep must be empty for sure," he mused. "The only thing they didn't bring was that bloody throne and that is only because the darn thing is too heavy." But worst of all was that his son relished this luxurious life just as much as his mother. The boy had complained for months, sending countless ravens, after he had been sent to Winterfell. He had complained about the rustic keep and cold weather. He was his mother's son in that regard, Cersei would do anything to avoid traveling to the North.
"Get some rest boy, the Tyrell's will send an envoy as soon as they hear of our arrival and you will need your strength for a feast with them. Their festivities tend to be long and frivolous." Robert barked at Joffrey, before he himself retired to a seat and yelled at his servants to get him wine.
He watched as Cersei arrived with their other children. He saw how she wrinkled her nose and looked offended by the mere thought of staying here, in a tent, when Highgarden was only minutes away. Oh she would complain for days. She already did and he could feel the beginning of a pounding pain in his head. Maybe he should ask the Tyrell's to give her a room at Highgarden. Possibly one without windows and a door that can only be opened from the outside... he actually grinned at that idea. It would serve her right for causing him a headache as soon as she arrived here. But he guessed that her father would feel offended by that. Offending Tywin was never a good choice, no matter if you are one of his bannermen or his king.
Then he saw his other children, his daughter Myrcella and youngest son, Tommen. Oh how he hated that Tommen was the only of his three children that looked entirely like him, like a Baratheon. Joffrey only had his eyes and hair, but his mother's distinct Lannister features, Myrcella was like a carbon copy of her mother. Only Tommen looked like a true Baratheon, much like Renly did at the same age. And to make things worse, the boy was so damn docile that Robert actually grows bored of the young boy's company after mere minutes. Him, growing bored of being with his own youngest son...
He was sure that the children he would have had with Lyanna wouldn't have been like this. They would have been fierce and hot tempered, not as prone to complaining like Joffrey, not as petty as pretty Myrcella and not as boring as young Tommen. But he would never know for sure. Only one thing was for sure, he would love and protect his children against all threats, even despite their obvious flaws. They may be Cersei's, but they are also his. And if there was one thing Robert and his wife concurred on, it was that they would protect those of their own blood against all threats.