While the adults gathered in Tywin's solar to discuss the fate of the realm, the children were left to their own devices. The sun had fully risen, casting a warm glow over the training yard where the young lords were gathered. The sounds of clashing swords and laughter filled the air as the boys tested their skills against one another.
Daemon stood in the center of the yard, facing off against Robb. The wooden practice swords in their hands were a blur of motion as they sparred, each boy grinning with the thrill of the fight. Despite his smaller stature, Daemon moved with a grace that belied his age, his strikes swift and precise. Robb, a bit taller and stronger, met each blow with equal skill, their match evenly matched.
"You've gotten faster since yesterday, Daemon!" Robb called out, grinning as he blocked a strike.
"Maybe you're just getting slower, Robb!" Daemon teased back, laughing as he ducked under a swing and landed a light tap on Robb's side.
The two boys laughed, their rivalry friendly and lighthearted. Nearby, Loras watched with interest, his own sword resting on his shoulder. He was known for his skill with the lance, but he appreciated the art of the sword just as much.
"Don't let him get too close, Robb! Daemon's quicker than he looks," Loras called out, a playful grin on his face.
Daemon flashed a quick smile at Loras before feinting left and landing another tap on Robb. Robb laughed, acknowledging the hit with a nod.
"Well struck, Daemon. You're going to be a terror in the lists one day," Robb said good-naturedly, stepping back to catch his breath.
As they exchanged friendly jabs, Margaery and Sansa watched from a nearby bench. The two girls had struck up an immediate friendship, bonding over shared stories of their homes and dreams for the future.
"Loras likes to act serious, but he's just as much a boy as the rest of them. Always wanting to be the best at everything," Margaery said with a smile as she watched her brother.
"Sansa nodded, her eyes bright with admiration. "Robb's the same. He always says he wants to be as strong as our father one day."
Margaery turned her attention to Daemon, who was now sparring with Loras. She noticed the way he moved, with a confidence and agility that set him apart from the others.
"Daemon's different, though. There's something about him… like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he doesn't let it show," Margaery said thoughtfully.
Sansa nodded. "He's very brave. I heard the servants saying he's already one of the best riders at the Rock."
Meanwhile, Arya, only three years old but with a spirit far older, had wriggled away from the watchful eye of her nurse. She toddled determinedly toward the boys, her eyes fixed on the wooden swords with an expression of pure fascination. Ghost, Daemon's new direwolf pup, followed close behind her, his red eyes watching her every move.
Daemon, noticing Arya's approach, lowered his sword and knelt down to her level, a gentle smile on his face. "What's this? Are you here to challenge us, little one?"
Arya puffed out her tiny chest, her hands reaching out toward the sword in Daemon's hand. "I want to fight too!"
The boys chuckled, and even Robb couldn't resist the little girl's enthusiasm. "She's got more fight in her than most grown men I've seen!"
Daemon handed Arya his practice sword, which was nearly as tall as she was. She tried to lift it with both hands, her small face scrunched up in concentration. The sword wobbled precariously, and Ghost nudged her with his nose as if to steady her.
"Here, let me help you," Daemon said gently, guiding her hands. "You've got to hold it like this."
Arya looked up at Daemon with wide, serious eyes, mimicking his movements as best she could. For a moment, she managed to hold the sword steady, a look of triumph flashing across her face before the sword dipped back down to the ground.
"It's heavy," Arya pouted, frustrated by the sword's weight.
"It'll get lighter as you grow stronger, I promise," Daemon assured her, laughing softly.
Loras, always eager for a challenge, knelt down beside Arya, holding out his own sword. "Here, try this one. It's a bit smaller."
Arya's eyes lit up as she took the smaller sword, her grip more sure this time. She swung it clumsily, but with fierce determination. The boys watched, amused and impressed by her spirit.
"I think we've got a future warrior on our hands," Loras said with a wink.
Daemon ruffled Arya's hair, his smile warm and genuine. "One day, Arya, you'll be the best of us all."
Arya beamed up at him, her fierce little heart full of admiration for the older boys who treated her with such kindness.
As the morning passed, the sparring matches continued, the boys pushing each other to be better, stronger. Bonds were forged in those moments—bonds of friendship and trust that would grow as they did.
From the shadows of the training yard, unseen by the children, Tywin watched with a calculating gaze. He saw the way Daemon moved, the way the other boys gravitated toward him, and he knew that this was more than just a simple name day celebration. This was the beginning of something greater, a shaping of the future.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard, the children's laughter echoed through the stone walls of Casterly Rock. They were unaware of the heavy discussions taking place within the castle, of the responsibilities that awaited them as they grew. For now, they were simply children, enjoying the company of friends and the thrill of a friendly fight.
But in the back of Daemon's mind, there was a sense that something more was expected of him—something that went beyond the games and the laughter. He didn't fully understand it yet, but he could feel it, like a distant storm on the horizon.
For now, though, he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the moment. He had friends by his side, a direwolf at his heels, and a world of possibilities ahead. And in that moment, that was enough.