Stafford
Of all the details Stafford Baratheon took note of that exhausting day, the lack of people dining in the Great hall of Winterfell troubled him the most. He had been used to the raucous crowds of tired men-at-arms, buxom serving wenches, and the quiet whispers of every man of the hall of reverting to a deafening scream. There was nothing he knew in a dinner that was more satisfying than to reap the harvests of a bountiful hunt, and no scent more alluring than venison roasted on a spit, spiced and marinated in the smoky-sweet sauces and dust of paprika, oregano, garlic and basil, no less than the finest in the 7 Kingdoms.
Those experiences from the fine hours basking in his glory, boasting of his kill as he ate it, went to waste as he was stuck eating a silent, dispassionate meal with his brother, Joffrey, his mother, and his two uncles, his father in deep deliberation with Lord Eddard at Bran Stark's bedside. Even as he chewed his spiced venison, every morsel that followed the last went stale and in a futile attempt to savor what was left of their flavor.
Stafford informed them he would be sending his sincere regards to the now grieving family. From what his uncle Tyrion had told him, the young Stark hasn't awoken since the fall. Stafford hoped he had lived. He noticed his mother and his uncle Jaime exchange brief looks of distress at each other. When their eyes met, they shone like emeralds beneath their golden hair. Their stare was interrupted by the mirthless laughter of his uncle Tyrion, whose pale green and black eyes looked on from underneath his heavy brow and shock of white-gold hair.
Stafford, exhausted and weary, thought nothing of it and went back to his sup. Today was not a good day.
It seemed he wasn't the only one with a serious injury today. He felt lucky it was only the bear that struck him down today, and continued to pray and hope for Bran Stark's good health. In the midst of his sorrows, he downed another flagon of wine.
His mother didn't seem to notice the little boy's misfortune and directed all her attention on him. She snapped at Lord Eddard earlier for being careless and allowing him to get attacked by a bear. Stafford didn't really know his mother cared that much about him, and didn't just do that for her poor prince Joffrey.
"So is the boy going to be alright?" Stafford asked. His uncle, Tyrion looked up after setting down some of the boar meat he was eating.
"It's too early to tell. Luwin is doing the best he can to help the child," he replied gently. Stafford was sorry to hear that. He didn't want anyone to experience what the young boy had experienced. Something troubled Stafford in this though. Back in his early youth, Stafford had used to try to climb all the empty keeps and towers in King's Landing. He once scaled the Red Keep too, and hadn't fallen off a single time. He stopped when he had grown taller and heavier, but he enjoyed climbing structures for a while. The young boy, Brandon or Bran like he had been called by his siblings, seemed to be an adept climber, who wouldn't just fall off, because he had lost his grip on a brick or something. He knew this, because when he climbed as a child once, he remembered paying attention to his grip and footing the most. Unless Bran was just foolish and didn't pay attention or took for granted his skill. Something just seemed off to Stafford he just didn't know what. Stafford just shrugged off all these weird thoughts, and continued eating in silence. He could barely speak now that his side had stiffened on him. He was out of his armor now, and he could definitely see the purplish, tender bruises the bear had gifted him during the hunting trip.
"How are your wounds treating you, my son?" his mother tenderly asked. There was a look of genuine concern in her eyes, something that surprised Stafford. His mother had always cared for him, not as equally as Joffrey in his opinion, but he felt she still loved him.
Stafford chuckled "It's just a flesh wound." Stafford said, not without a certain braggadocio, that did not escape his uncle Jaime, who laughed.
"It seems your little warrior has been bested by an opponent, who far outclasses him," He jested. Stafford's relationship with his uncle was an odd one to say the least. He hadn't been much of a mentor for Stafford, but they enjoyed what little time they spent with each other. They were more of a traditional familial relationship than the one he had with someone like Ser Barristan, another knight of the Kingsguard. They had a little rivalry going on in regards to combat, although even with the more than few times Stafford had challenged his uncle to a one-on-one melee, he had never won a round against his uncle. Stafford attributed it to his lack of meaningful combat experience apart from defeating people in minor melee's in small tournaments, and sparring and training with Ser Barristan.
"Let's not forget how I killed the bear," Stafford managed to say as his side really was preventing him from speaking much.
"You killed it thanks to me. Without my help, you wouldn't have been able to do that," Joffrey barked, making motions of aiming and shooting a crossbow. Stafford, enraged and having enough of his brother for one day, got up and tried to lunge at him, but then his sides began to ache, a sudden jolt of pain arch through his belly like boar's tusks.
"Enough, you two! Stafford, you mustn't strain yourself. Joffrey, watch your tongue. Seven Hells, you are brothers. Why can't you all just get along?" his mother tiredly demanded of them, reaching for another glass of summerwine. Stafford, angry but spent, returned to his seat. His venison had gone even stale. It wasn't long before he excused himself of this sorry dinner, and left with
"I'll be going to be giving my regards to the poor boy's family," His family nodded in approval and he was on his way. While on his way there he felt someone grab at his elbow to get his attention. Immediately, he knew who it was by the way he tried to get his attention. He turned around and looked down to his Uncle Tyrion.
"May I accompany you, nephew?" He asked. Stafford nodded as he continued his way to Bran with Tyrion with him. "I appreciate you sending your condolences and comforts to the Starks. It fills me with pride to see that Robert had raised at least one child with courtesy," He stated.
"I know my comforts won't make Bran feel better, but it is only right that I express them. You of all people know how I love to express myself," Stafford explained
"Indeed, gets you into trouble and also assists you. It's something you got from your father," Tyrion told him. Everyone had always drawn comparisons between him and his father Robert. Every time he did something people had always told him it reminded them of Robert this and Robert that. Sometimes Stafford got sick of hearing it. Robert Baratheon was a tough act to follow, casting a shadow longer than the Wall.
"Does everyone have to bring up how similar I am to my father?" Stafford managed to groan, "It's like I'm just another Robert to everyone, uncle. Mother always talks about me that way and even Barristan, my own mentor compares all my accomplishments to my father. Am I not my own person?" Stafford protested.
"It's not so bad if you think about it, nephew. At least you get compared to a king, while I am shunned by my own father, who despises the mention of me," His uncle reasoned. Stafford looked at him and understood his plight. At least he was compared to his father's good traits and his father respected him as his son. His uncle did not get the same courtesy from his father. In fact, every time he had visited Casterly Rock, his grandfather Tywin would never talk to his uncle, Tyrion. It seemed like he was ashamed of Tyrion somehow, and it seemed as though he regretted Tyrion's very existence.
"Hmph... I didn't mean to snap like that to you, Uncle. It's just been a long hard day for me. So many events transpired during this day, that all I want to do is rest," Stafford said as he calmed down a little.
"It's alright, Stafford. You almost got brutalized by a bear today, so I can tell your a little on edge. Anyway were are almost near the room, Bran was in. As soon as they had reached the landing after the steps, Stafford noticed Robb open the door of the room and leave it. Stafford immediately approached Robb, who glanced up at him.
"So, how's your brother? Is he getting better?" Stafford asked.
"He's hasn't woken up, but he isn't getting worse. Maester Luwin is looking at him as we speak. Arya, Sansa, and mother are in there right now looking after Bran. Your father had stopped by earlier along with mine," Robb replied.
"Robb, are you sure you alright? You have my deepest condolences for what happened, and hope for Bran to recover," Stafford told Robb. Robb looked at him.
"That's kind of you, Stafford. It's very comforting to know your uncle and yourself cared enough about Bran to show up and give your regards. Anyway, I have some business to take care of as I had been watching Bran till my mother, and sisters arrived after eating," Robb stated. Robb gave a nod of acknowledgement to Tyrion and Tyrion reciprocated it. Robb walked down the steps and out of sight. Stafford drew a breath and opened the door to Bran's room.
The room wasn't very large, but it wasn't small either. Bran was laying in a bed inside the room with the Maester attending to him, and his mother, and sisters right by his bedside. Arya glanced over to the door, while Sansa followed her. Sansa looked a little disappointed when she looked towards Stafford. Probably wanted her gallant Prince Joffrey to show up to send his sincerest regards to the family. Stafford knew Joffrey better than anyone would want to. He knew Joffrey wouldn't be coming unless someone forced him to. He didn't care about the Starks, but when the public sees him, he acts all courteous and polite. He especially liked it when the ladies were there to see his 'chivalry'. Stafford acted the same around everyone, which got him a rather mixed reputation around those, who believed in regal chivalry. Arya, however, looked like she had been waiting for Stafford or at least someone other than Joffrey. Lady Catelyn didn't even look up to see, who was at the door, she just held Bran's arm and looked mournful at his current state.
"Stafford, what are you and the Imp doing here?" Arya asked. Tyrion had a wide grin on his face.
"Arya, don't speak to Lord Tyrion like that," Sansa stated.
"I don't mind, people have called me that for a while," Tyrion stated.
"I'm here to send my deepest condolences for little Bran. I wish I could have done more to prevent his fall, Arya," Stafford stated.
"It was not your fault, Prince Stafford. You were out hunting when it happened. There was nothing you could do," Sansa replied.
"If I had stayed behind, I could have made a difference. If I had been underneath the tower he had fallen from and caught him-" Stafford began but was interrupted by someone.
"Don't blame yourself, child. If you had stayed behind, you couldn't have predicted this would have happened. I appreciate you and your uncle have the care and decency to check up on Bran," Lady Catelyn told him. Stafford just nodded in reply. Stafford just couldn't understand why this had to happen to Bran. Bran was an innocent child, who didn't deserve what happened to him. Stafford had been like that once and didn't want to think about what may happen if his life had hung in the balance like Bran's life had done. Stafford just thought about why people had to experience such terrible hardships in life. Bran did nothing to deserve this, he was just a child. Stafford couldn't help, but think what he would do if he had lost everything just in a moment.
"What is important, my prince is that Bran has stabilized, we are just waiting to see if he will wake up for now. We hope the gods will show mercy towards our plight and let our little Bran live. If he wakes up though, he might be a cripple for the rest of his life. His back seemed to have shattered during the fall," Maester Luwin stated. That was even worse. Stafford imagined not being able to walk, not being able to fight, and just sitting there getting your every need looked after. Honestly, Stafford preferred death to that fate, but even then it would cost your family dearly if you died.
"So do you think he will recover?" Stafford asked the maester. He knew more than he did in these topics. Stafford knew his way around certain topics as his uncle, Tyrion had told him to read books to educate himself, but he was nowhere near proficient as his uncle or the maester. He was much better at using axes, fighting, and riding horses than than the work of the mind.
"Only time will tell, child," The maester replied. Stafford eventually turned to his uncle, Tyrion.
"Patience, nephew. We might be long gone before we find out what the young boy's fate is, but have faith that the maester will do all he can to ensure he wakes up," Tyrion assured him. Stafford sighed almost as if he had had enough for one day. He had been attacked by a bear, had to deal with Joffrey, find out that a young boy could potentially have his life affected by an incident that happened during his childhood, and worse he won't know if Bran will live. At least he survived his bear attack, Bran's very life is hanging in the balance right now.
"What happened to your face?" Stafford heard Arya ask him.
"A bear happened to it," Stafford replied as he turned to Arya. Stafford hoped he wouldn't be scarred for the rest of his life like his uncle, Tyrion had been. It wasn't large, so he was lucky and most wasn't on his face, but his neck. The scratch on his face was not deep and barely noticable on his chin. It was bruised however. It would heal in time, however and would probably not cause long term effects.
"Did you kill it?" Arya asked him.
"I did, wasn't easy, but I did," Stafford stated, "Not without some help from other like Theon, Robb, and even Joffrey of all people." He hated having to give Joffrey credit for something, but he had to.
"Joffrey probably charged the bear fearlessly," Sansa stated dreamily. She seemed enamoured with Joffrey, which Stafford sort of found upholding. She'll get to meet him soon enough.
"He used a crossbow, which I hardly think is charging, but he did help," Stafford corrected.
"Joffrey wouldn't be brave enough to charge a bear, let alone be capable," his uncle Tyrion added. Sansa shocked at what she had heard, quickly turned towards Stafford.
"I trust the bear didn't hurt you too badly, though? Many in the castle say your skill in the axe in matched by none in Westeros," she eloquently said to Stafford. Stafford shocked Sansa actually knew what weapon he used nodded,
"I'll recover. I don't want to see any bear anytime soon, however," Stafford stated.
Suddenly the door opened and Stafford turned to see his father and Lord Eddard appear before them.
"Ah perfect, Sansa, Arya, Staff, come with us. We have something very important to discuss. Joff is already waiting for us," King Robert stated. Stafford wondered what they were going to discuss, but immediately he figured, However, when he realized, who was going to be involved in the discussion, he had a good feeling of what it was about. He had no choice, but to follow his father. Sansa and Arya were bewildered, and had no clue what was going on. Stafford merely acted natural and accompanied his father.
Soon Stafford was in the great keep with his favorite brother Joffrey, and the two Stark sisters. King Robert began to speak as soon as Lord Eddard closed the door.
"House Stark and House Baratheon have been allies since my war against the Targaryens before you were born. We have decided to join our houses in marriage. We are here to announce the betrothal between my son Joffrey, and your daughter Sansa. In addition, we are also announcing announcing another betrothal, between my second son Stafford and your second daughter Arya," The King announced. Immediately, Sansa's face grew bright at the prospect of her betrothal to Joffrey, and Arya looked stunned at her betrothal to Stafford. Stafford knew in the back of his mind that the reason why he had been called concerned the betrothal. Joffrey had probably known about the betrothal too, but Stafford had heard it from his father when they visited the crypts when they first arrived in Winterfell.
"Of course, we must wait a few years before the marriages can take place, but we have at least agreed on betrothal for now," Lord Eddard went on to explain. Stafford felt this was good as he was a boy of fifteen and Arya was only eleven. It would not be correct for them to marry now. But something in Arya's face hinted that she was not satisfied at the very least with these news.
Without another word Arya bolted and opened the door out of the keep. Lord Eddard only sighed, and his father seemed surprised at what just happened.
"What's the matter with your daugher, Ned? She just found out she was marrying a prince for the gods sake!" King Robert exclaimed.
"My daughter's probably just surprised. She acts like that whe she is," Lord Eddard explained.
"I'll go to her, and see what she thinks," Stafford stated as he began to walk toward the door. His brother had already began to talk to Sansa, who seemed like she had just heard the greatest news she had ever heard in her life. Stafford hoped to the Seven that his brother would at least treat her fairly. He hoped his brother would prove him wrong this one time.
Stafford looked around the castle to try to find, Arya, but couldn't find her. Stafford tried everywhere, and concluded she had probably locked herself in her room. That's the only place Stafford hadn't looked, but hoped to not have to try, because he didn't want to invade her privacy. Stafford found Robb, who seemed like he was about to go somewhere and asked him about Arya.
"Robb, have you seen Arya?" Stafford asked him as he passed by.
"Indeed I have, She bolted into her room and slammed the door shut for some reason. What happened?" Robb asked.
"Well, since this is probably going to be announced sometime anyway, my father and your father had agreed to announce a betrothal between Arya and I. She didn't look to happy about it, so I went after her. Also, there's also a betrothal between Joffrey and Sansa," Stafford explained. Robb didn't really have a meaningful reaction to the betrothal between Arya and him, but his face lit up when he heard about Joffrey and Sansa.
"Ah, I see. Arya isn't really interested in that. But if I'm not mistaken did you also say Joffrey was getting betrothed to my sister?" Robb asked him with anticipation.
"Yes. Is it okay if I got to your sister?" Stafford replied. Robb nodded and without another word he quickly began to walk away with some haste in his steps. Stafford stood in front of one of the only closed doors in hallway and knocked.
"Go away!" he heard Arya say.
"It's me, Stafford. I just want to talk, I know a lot has happened today, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay after you ran off like that." Stafford replied.
Suddenly the door opened for Stafford. And there she was looking more bewildered than anything. Something told Stafford she seemed to be more surprised about the betrothal more than anything else.
"Look, Arya I know this is something new to you. I didn't exactly want it, myself," Stafford explained. Her expression changed a bit after he said that, he didn't exactly know why, but it just did.
"Am I not good enough for you is that it? You probably prefer my sister don't you? I told you I didn't really want or expect to get married, but it seems like you just don't want to get married, because I am not up to your standards," she snapped almost getting ready to cry.
"What gave you that idea? All I want to see is you happy. If that means having to talk to my father about cancelling it, then so be it," Stafford stated. "You're my friend, and this betrothal doesn't change that." Arya let her guard down a little bit and calmed down. Stafford took a bit of a step forward.
"I feel weird just standing outside of your door like this, do you mind if O come in?" Stafford asked.
"S-sure," She said a little flustered at the prospect. She stepped aside and allowed Stafford to step inside. Stafford saw her wolf with her as it stared at him. The direwolf was giant, and apparently it was only a pup. If Stafford had fought a pack of these things, it would probably make the fight with the bear seem like a light sparring session with his favorite brother, Joffrey.
"Don't hesitate to tell me to leave whenever you wish, I just want to make sure you're okay after what happened," Stafford stated.
"Well, I've never really had any boy in my room that wasn't in my family, so pardon me if I'm not used to this," she said as she tried to hide an uncharacteristic blush.
"If you didn't decide to run to room, then I wouldn't need to be here," Stafford said. Arya feeling a little more embarrassed, began to pace anxiously around the room.
They exchanged banter and conversation until arya was satisfied. They talked about different things to try to get her mind off the betrothal. Stafford talked about how he beat many different opponents in Joffrey's nameday tournament his first 'major' melee he had competed in. He told of the way he had beaten Yohn Royce in combat, barely, but he had scored an upset victory when Royce got cocky and thought he had won after forcing Stafford to use his hand axe. Time passed with them just swapping stories and generally getting more well acquainted with one another.
"So about the betrothal, are you comfortable with it all?" Stafford asked.
"We don't have to get married now, right?" she asked him in reply
"Of course not, we are still strictly friends for now. But, I am willing to try the betrothal if it's okay with you,"
"Alright, let's give a try," she stated. Stafford grinned. Arya had surprised him at every turn, and she continues to do so even now.