The ring of steel on steel was like a symphony to Robert's ears. Fighting was simple. During a fight, there was no time for deep thoughts, only instinct and the drive to win. Robert was not the most graceful of fighters, he would never awe others with the flash of a blade, but you didn't become a legend on the battlefield by being the flashiest. Robert's style of fighting was as brutal and straight forward as he was. Why parry a thrust when he could simply lean in and take it on the thickest part of his armor? He trusted the steel he wore, and it was a move that surprised many foes leaving them open to a punishing strike. Many would see this as dangerous as you risked the strike slipping into one of the less armored areas of the body. However, Robert had a talent for reading the body language of his opponent in a fight and was quick to judge if they were capable of such a feat. Additionally, where most men trained to keep their distance and only to resort to grappling when necessary, Robert would actively seek to get close in where his strength could easily overwhelm. Many of his spars ended when a glancing blow to the pauldron or breastplate would leave his opponent open for Robert to dash in and take them off their feet with a surprisingly quick spearing tackle or throw.
His current opponent, Eddard Stark, knew Robert's favorite tricks. Sparing each other for more than ten years, they had come to know each other's styles quite well and had challenged each other to be better. This led to their victories being a lot closer in number than one might expect. Eddard was armed with a two-handed long sword not quite as long as his family's ancestral greatsword Ice, but still a formidable weapon on the battlefield. Robert took up his usual combination of shield and hammer. After saluting each other, they took their stances. Eddard held his sword in a high guard while Robert kept his shield forward and his hammer low and ready. As usual, they stood waiting for Robert to make the first move. Eddard Stark had over the years developed a much more defensive style that focused on wearing his opponent down before punishing them for their inevitable mistake. Robert for his part tried being more patient and deliberate but decided that it didn't really suit him in a fight.
So, with a speed one would not expect from such a large man, he darted towards in swinging his hammer in an arching horizontal strike aimed towards Ned's left side. The move was meant to bait Ned into deflecting the blow with his sword, which would hopefully knock it out of position allowing for a follow up strike. Ned however judged the range of the attack perfectly and stepped back just enough that the edge of the hammer scraped the front of his breast plate. With a step forward, he brought his sword down in a quick strike towards Robert's neck. Fortunately for Robert, he had not overextended himself with the opening strike and recovered in time to block Eddard's attack with the edge of his shield. Eddard stepped back again into a defensive posture as Robert brought his hammer up for a downward strike. This time Eddard chose to parry with his blade but was able to prevent it from being battered away by placing his hand up higher on the flat of the weapon giving him more leverage to absorb and redirect the blow. Robert saw an opening to go in for a tackle as his hammer slid down the blade, but it seemed as if Ned saw it too and he immediately dropped low to counter it. Robert had already launched into his takedown and had little time to adjust so after making contact and failing to complete the tackle he placed his right hand on the ground and flung his shield up blocking the retaliatory pommel strike he knew Ned would throw at him. As fast as he could, he got back to his feet and took his stance again watching as Ned did the same.
"Ha!" Robert bellowed. "Finally figured out how to stop the takedown, haven't you?"
"Well, I'm not exactly fond of being on my back with a man looming over me." Ned replied calmly.
"No, I'm sure if it was a black-haired woman with violet eyes you wouldn't mind so much." Robert taunted suggestively.
"What are you on about?" Ned responded. Robert, for his part, realized his mistake quickly. Ned hadn't yet met Ashara Dayne. Robert had gone six days without making any major slip ups like this. He panicked for a moment before coming up with what he thought might be a feasible cover.
"Didn't we have a talk about the eligible ladies who'd be at the tourney? Ashara Dayne, Dacey Mormont, I can't remember the others. Was I talking to someone else about this? That night is a bit of a blur after the wine started flowing."
"I don't seem to remember you being deep in your cups since news of the tourney came in."
"Bah, whatever Ned, it was just a jape. Are we going to finish this spar or what?" He got an affirmative nod from his friend before they continued. The match went to Robert as he managed to power his way through Eddard's expert defense, though his brother in all but blood truly made him work for it.
After their spar, Robert took some time to look over the yards. His gaze fell on Elbert who, at five and ten, was close to coming of age. Whereas Denys was everything the chivalrous lords of the Vale would want in an heir and future liege, Elbert was often looked down on due to his less charismatic personality and middling skill at arms. Robert knew however, especially after paying more attention to Jon's court that Elbert had a keen mind for administration and justice. The boy had a sharp and methodical mind, and if he wasn't heir to the Vale, he might even have done well in the Citadel. Robert sometimes wondered what drove Elbert to follow Brandon on that ill-fated trip to King's Landing. Elbert was with the group heading to the wedding at Riverrun as a representative of House Arryn. Perhaps he felt honored bound to accompany them, or perhaps he wanted to prove himself by helping to rescue a fair maiden. Either way, Robert was determined to not let that come to pass. He saw Elbert go in for a strike against his opponent, and instantly saw how the young man had telegraphed his movement. He was not surprised to see the attack parried and Elbert punished with a vicious repost.
"Hold There Elbert!" Robert called. "Do you know what happened there?"
"He's faster than me?" Elbert said wincing as he rubbed the spot where the tourney sword had caught him.
"Who? Andar? Fast? Ha!" The man who Elbert was facing gave Robert a glare that the young lord ignored. "No, but he can see just fine. Your body is practically screaming at him what you are going to do next." Robert rubbed his chin as he searched for the right words. "You're thinking too much, and your body language shows it." Elbert's face told Robert that he didn't quite understand what he was being told. "Your technique when you strike is almost flawless, no one can fault your footwork or your swing. It's almost like you are thinking so hard about getting it right that you don't even realize that you are announcing to your opponent what you are about to do. You need to let your muscle memory take over. Be less concerned with the perfection of your strike and start planning for the next two to three strikes ahead." Elbert seemed to think this through and gave Robert a nod.
"Thank you, I'll give it a try." He then signaled to his sparring partner to continue. Things went better the next few exchanges. It was true that his form was a little sloppier, but his follow ups were improving.
"If only you were as observant during court as you are on the training yard" Eddard said coming up alongside Robert.
"Well, it just makes sense to me out here. Everything is simpler on the battlefield even with all the chaos and screaming, and men dying all round you. I've never felt more alive than when I was out there in the thick of it." Robert had a distant look in his eyes as he observed the rest of the men continuing their sparring.
"You speak of if you have lived through many battles worthy of song. Hunting down bandits and fending off that mountain clan raid hardly count even if it did earn you your spurs." Ned said with a hint of suspicion in his voice. Robert groaned internally, that was two slip ups in less than an hour. Once again, he tried his best to recover.
"Well, it was pretty chaotic at the time. I was hardly over six and ten at the time, and those wildlings came out of nowhere. You know I felled ten of them that day. I even took the head of their chief off with a stroke of my hammer and…"
"Sent it careening down the side of the mountain pass." Ned finished. "Yes, Robert I was there, and I have heard you retell the tale almost every night for the past two years. That look in your eyes just now Robert, I've seen you like that several times these past few days. You had the look of the older men who tell tales of the War of the Ninepenny Kings." Eddard had once again demonstrated why Robert thought so highly of him. Even if in this case it was causing him no small amount of frustration.
"I don't know what you're on about Ned." He said trying to deflect. "Look, Jon should be hearing petitioners in an hour or two, and I for one would like to be presentable for that." With that poor attempt at a segue, Robert left for his chamber in the keep. He couldn't help but feel Ned's disapproving gaze.
Robert couldn't focus as he sat in on Jon handling petitioners. There were several cases brought to the Lord of the Vale, and they all seemed to just blend into one. Many thoughts vied for room in his head. He thought about leaving the castle with Ned in the morning, he thought of Lyanna and what she might think of him, he worried about Ned's observations and what he must think, he thought of Mya and how she will fare with him gone for so long, and he thought of the gods, both old and new, and the plans they had for him. It was all so much that he could hardly focus on one thing for long. He was shaken from the maelstrom of swirling thoughts when he realized that Jon was talking to him.
"I'm sorry what?" He asked his mentor, a little ashamed that he had been so withdrawn.
"I was asking you what you thought about the outcome of that last petition, but I doubt you would be able to tell me. You look as if you are a thousand miles away. Perhaps a thousand miles north?" His foster father said with a slight grin.
"Ah, yes, that's part of it I suppose. I've got plenty running through my head."
"Well, it is understandable, but a good lord will do all he can to focus on the here and now. He mustn't be lost in future or in the past but grounded in the present." The old lord said sagely. "As I've told you before, plan for your future, remember the past, but be in the here and now."
"Yes, hopefully I remember it this time." Robert said with a little exasperation. He felt stressed and tired, but Jon was right he couldn't let his worries about the future dictate how he acted in the moment. And in this moment his little girl was no doubt wondering when her papa would come play with her.
The rest of the day went well. He of course loved spending time with Mya. While they were playing, she had grabbed a stick and started swinging it at his legs yelling "Gotchu!" each time. Robert laughed and picked up his own stick and started a mock duel with her which of course she won with him being vanquished in quite a dramatic fashion. When it was time for her nap, he took her to bed personally and even sang the lullaby he had learned watching Piper care for her. When she had finally fallen asleep Piper spoke up.
"You could take her with you." she said softly, they agreed to drop the formalities while in private.
"No, it wouldn't exactly be proper. Besides, she needs her mother more right now than her father." He sighed before continuing. "I don't plan on taking her with me for a few years yet. I've got plenty of things to settle before I take her to live with me. Don't worry, I'll be visiting as often as I can in the meantime." He smiled, bade his daughter's mother goodbye, and continued his daily routine by heading to the yard to practice his jousting.
He continued to make progress at the tilts, and many had commented on his steady improvement, but it still felt like he was struggling with keeping his mount under control while focusing on striking his target. He was anxious that he wouldn't get any good practice while on the road and Denys picked up on his frustration.
"Don't worry friend, you're doing well all things considered. I'm sure you'll find more time to hone your skills when you reach Winterfell. I hear Brandon Stark is an accomplished rider and would be willing to give you some advice."
"Yeah, here's hoping." Robert replied gruffly.
Robert didn't exactly feel like spending time reveling with everyone that night. He was restless and conflicted. He was eager to head north and get another chance at a first impression with Lyanna. But he also knew that he would miss his time here in the Vale. Finding himself once again unable to rest, he threw on his cloak and walked to the sept. After his first visit to the sept, he had returned each day to pray. It was especially helpful when the anxiety of what was to come would start to overwhelm him. Having someone to lift up his burdens to made all the difference.
Septon Cedric was kind enough to humor Robert as he asked further questions about the faith. Robert had asked one night how they could trust what was written in the Seven-Pointed Star. The young septon nearly glowed with excitement as he explained the process of textual criticism and how they had partial copies of the various books dating right back to within a few decades of the founding of Andalos. Robert had apparently touched on a passion of the young priest. It was revealed that during his time in Oldtown Cedric had the privilege of working on a compilation and transcription of all the various manuscripts known to the faith. He explained that it was remarkable how well maintained the scripture was over the past millennia, and that even small variations in the text could be tracked to specific scribes and annotated. Robert, while not understanding everything the man said got the idea that at least the holiest of their books seemed trustworthy having been written at the founding of the faith. He had ended that particular discussion by pointing out that knowing that the words are legitimate doesn't mean that every interpretation of them is. Cedric had frowned then and nodded glumly.
As he finished his prayers for the night before his trip, he saw the Septon going about his business. Robert had another lingering question he hadn't gotten around to asking yet. It had never seemed important, but it bugged him all the same.
"Cedric, I have a question if you don't mind. It is something that many take for granted, but I wanted your opinion on it."
"I am here to serve my lord Baratheon"
"I thought I told you to drop the titles when we're alone. I know who I am thank you."
"As you say my lord, how can I help you." The young man replied with a gentle smile. Robert couldn't quite tell if the Septon was teasing him at this point, so he simply shook his head and continued.
"Right, I always hear the smallfolk refer to the seven as the gods. But more formally they are referred to as the seven who are one. I guess I just wanted to know what the faith teaches about the oneness of the seven. If that makes sense." He added a little lamely.
"Yes, my lord, that is something that many of the less learned do not understand. It is the official position of the faith that referring to the seven who are one as multiple separate gods while incorrect is not in and of itself heretical as spending the time to correct the masses would be fruitless when there are greater things to focus on. I happen to disagree, but alas I am a lowly servant. It is best if we think of the seven aspects as shadows of the one whole. For example, if you were to examine my shadow, you could perceive and extrapolate some of my physical features, but you are not able to see the whole true me in the shadow. As I move my shadow moves and you can see different traits and get a better understanding of the true me. As limited beings we are incapable of perceiving the whole glory of the seven. So, they showed themselves to us in a manner that we can comprehend. The seven are humanity as a whole in balance; three masculine forms, three feminine forms, and the last is the end of all neither masculine nor feminine."
For once, Robert felt like could easily follow the septon's words. It matched what he saw upon his death in the vast field. He was seeing one being represented in seven forms each representing a specific aspect of humanity. That of course did not speak to the other gods he treated with upon his death.
"That makes sense, thank you. You wouldn't happen to know much about the worship of the old gods would you?" Robert asked.
"Ah, no, my lord. Even though many hold to the old ways even in White Harbor I never took the time to learn, and it is not a subject well respected by those at the Starry Sept."
"Figures. I am leaving for Winterfell tomorrow; I suppose I can learn more while there."
"If I might be so bold to ask, my lord, but why are you asking about the gods of the north?" The septon asked with curiosity rather than condemnation.
"Well, if I'm going to marry a lady who honors the old gods, I would like to know how compatible our faith is. I had once heard it said that the old gods hold domain over nature and that the Seven hold domain over man. If that were true, I don't think there should be much conflict." Robert said thoughtfully.
"I would like to know who is saying such things, my lord. While an interesting viewpoint, I must point out the Seven have given man domain over nature and thus we are obliged to suborn the old gods." It was as close to a challenge as the ever polite septon ever had given.
"Oh? And where in the holy books is that teaching found?" Robert smiled back at him
"That would be found in the Book of Septons." Cedric said with a bit hesitantly. In all their meetings, Robert had consistently questioned if the words of the High Septon were truly divinely inspired or not.
"And when was that particular teaching given?" Robert pushed.
"That is one of the older teachings. It was given around the time when the Andals first came to Westeros."
"So, just as the faithful were warring with a people who worshiped gods of nature?"
"As you say, my lord." Cedric responded, obviously not wanting to concede the point but not having a valid response that hadn't already been tried.
"Yes, as I say." Robert laughed a bit at the septon's poorly hidden frustration. "You are a good man, Cedric. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you helped me quite a bit over the past few days. I'll miss our conversations." Robert prepared to leave.
"Yes, my lord, I too will miss our discussions. Very few others come to me with questions as you do."
Robert returned to his room, and finally fell asleep. He dreamed of Lyanna's wild laughter, he dreamed of the Trident and striking down Rhaegar, he dreamed of walking up the steps of the iron throne, and through it all he saw a raven flying in the distance. In its caw he could hear a whisper repeated.
"What are you?"