Chapter 3
STEFFON BARATHEON
Steffon Baratheon would rather be anywhere else than where he was. Many would envy him for his situation, for he was a Prince of the realm. To the world, he was the son of King Robert Baratheon and Queen Cersei Lannister. He was the younger brother of the King.
His was a life of opulence, yet he carried secrets in his heart and burdens on his shoulders that chained him to these lands. He had tried and plotted many a time to simply give it all up and live a quiet life far away, and yet such a thing was easier said than done.
"Father sure does love you," and his eyes snapped towards his only Lannister companion on this trip. Tyrion Lannister was a man cursed by the Gods, and the question regarding his true parentage always haunted his mind as soon as he looked at those mismatched eyes.
Green in one, and that unique amethyst in the other. Had he not been cursed by the Gods, he would have made for a handsome man. After all, Siera Seastar had once had such eyes and was rumored to rule over all of the Seven Kingdoms because of her enthralling beauty.
Perhaps the Gods had learned of their mistake and taken all beauty from him, for his uncle's face was not kind to look at. His misshapen nose and pushed-out forehead made for a terrible sight, and it would have been more painful if the man were not aware of it.
"Why do you say that?" and those mismatched eyes hid away that bitterness as they met his pure green Lannister eyes.
"Why? For I am his son, and yet never has he sent so many guards with me on my visits," and he wanted to console him. He wanted to tell him that it was all a lie, and that Lord Tywin loved him just as he did his other children.
One could call them friends, though despite their four years of association, a subtle hint of tension always lingered between him and his uncle, who feared his father's intentions about his heirship.
Steffon was a Prince, and son to his sister, and if Lord Tywin were to announce him as his heir, there was hardly anything Tyrion could do to change it. They had never openly discussed this, nor had Lord Tywin ever brought up such a topic in his discussion, yet the tension always lingered.
"It was not Lord Tywin who arranged this," Steffon answered, making the estranged son frown.
"I asked for it," and now he was taken by surprise.
"You. I never knew you to be fond of such pomp?" and he was not. Steffon preferred to be relatively independent in his life. Compared to most lords, his habits were a bit strange, for he chose to dress and wash himself, refusing to rely on the servants of the castle.
"I am not," Steffon answered, and riding with so many people was cumbersome and slow, yet he had felt it necessary.
"Then why would you ask for so many guards?" and now his mind was racing as he closed up his tome and those mismatched eyes met his own pure green Lannister gaze while the little Lord Lannister hummed.
"You are suspecting something," and having known him for four years, Tyrion Lannister knew more about him than any other person in the realm. They had spent nights playing games and exchanging tales, and so he knew exactly how his mind worked.
"An attack," and those eyes widened as he glanced at the retinue once more and saw its readiness to repel it. It was unlike the usual routine, and all of the guards wore full armor and were ready for an attack.
"But who would dare attack you?" and Steffon had a few people in mind.
"There are many who still call my father a Usurper," he whispered, and that was a lie, and Tyrion saw through it at once.
"You are not stupid enough to fear a penniless Prince across the Seas," he caught him, as Steffon shrugged and put his gaze on the road once more.
"You have spent the last four years being holed up in Casterly Rock. Every lord in the West knows how fond my father is of his grandson. No lord, here would dare to lay a hand on him here in Westerlands, unless they wished to see a repeat of the Rains of Castamere," Lord Tyrion added, now rubbing his chin.
"That only leaves the Capitol," and they were halfway through the journey now, and the Gold Road was now passing through the Lydden lands.
"Yet who in the Capitol would dare to lay a hand on you," and Steffon had let the safety of Casterly Rock delude him into thinking that he would never quite have to return to Kingslanding.
Back in the Capitol, he had been too young to have anyone take him seriously, yet during the later years, Lord Tywin had begun to acknowledge his mind and accept his advice. So, many a time as missives arrived from Kingsalanding seeking more and more gold, he began speaking against the lending, even going so far as to accuse the Master of Coin of theft.
Yet again, his accusations were met with dismissal. Brilliant as he was, Lord Tywin thought it to be an unjust conjecture, and so the gold continued to flow, yet still as time went on, he saw his words had an effect as the Lord of the West saw the loans balloon unnaturally.
So, while he did not stop lending the Crown the gold, he began to raise the interest and asked the Master of Coin questions, demanding his ledgers and plans to repay all the money owed.
He did not know what answers he had received, yet if the letter in his pocket was anything to go by, it was not satisfactory enough.
"I don't know," and he did not know whether Littlefinger knew that it was he who had made Lord Tywin question his credentials and plans. But the man knew that he was coming to inspect his ledgers, and he knew that the man would do anything to hide his secrets.
"But I would much rather be safe than dead," Steffon argued, and having such a large retinue may be cumbersome, but he would much rather be alive and troubled than dead and free.
"Still, one would have to be quite bold to attack a Prince of the realm?" Lord Tyrion questioned, and more than anything, Tyrion Lannister loved a puzzle, and now he had given him one to solve.
Truthfully, Tyrion Lannister had a brilliant mind and a far kinder soul than his scary face would have you believe. Steffon was a direct threat to his inheritance, yet he had still befriended him and taken him under his wing at Casterly Rock.
He had sensed his irritation with his mother, and after some initial months had stopped bringing her up, despite his curiosity about exactly what had transpired in the Red Keep for his unusual arrival at the Rock.
And just thinking about that whole ordeal made him grit his teeth, as he was reminded of his mother's heinous actions. In the end, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, for he was troubled enough as it was, as Tyrion reminded him of another.
"That is Deep Den," and he knew that, and could spot the Dark Castle over the rocky hills.
"Lord Lydden's one of fathers loyal bannermen and has asked quite a few times to host you," and two riders had arrived from the castle, asking that he grace the man with his presence. He was not the First lord to have done so, and they had already stopped at some half a dozen odd keeps and castles, as the lords all but threw their daughters at him, hoping to win his favor.
Despite knowing about his disposition, they thought his Baratheon blood would loosen his belt and win them favor with the Crown itself. They had lost much time because of that, and he was quite tired of it all.
"I have grown tired of all these feasts," he complained, and Deep Den was the last Castle they would pass before entering the Crown's lands, and he could only hope that the journey through them would be just as uneventful as it had been until now.
"You should learn to enjoy these things. One should never turn down free wine and free women," and Steffon chuckled at the jape.
"Whores aren't exactly free," he pointed out, as Lord Tyrion shrugged.
"The wine is, and yet you don't even partake in that," and that was because he did not trust these men not to ace his wine with something else.
"You should loosen up. Father's made you all stiff and proper," Lord Tyrion complained as he stepped forward.
"You are now a man grown," he said, pointing towards his light stubble.
"Yet you don't even know what it feels like to hold a woman," and that would be a lie.
"You should take advantage of my father's absence and loosen up a bit," and while that was not precisely a bad suggestion, and he did have his needs, but this was not the right time for such things.
"I am not against the idea," and that made him gawk for a second.
"Then we have a deal. It's been some time since I have visited the Chataya," and his uncle hissed lustily as he closed his eyes and began imagining his future nights.
"She has quite the collection," he added, and the truth was that he had no intention of joining up. At least not until he had dealt with Littlefinger and his ploys, but seeing his excitement, he did not have the heart to break his heart just yet.
He would leave that to his mother.
"My Prince, there is a rider coming for us," and he perked up at that, as the guards all came near.
"Probably another one of Lord Lydden's," and the man was wearing steel armor, but it was quite unbecoming for a lord of his status to send out so many guards.
Still, they came to a halt as the rider came forth and took a letter out of his pocket.
"I have come from Deep Den bearing a message for the Prince," and Lord Tyrion smirked from the side, as Steffon sighed.
"It has the seal," the captain of the guards added, as he inspected the missive yet did not break the seal.
"You should accept," Tyrion began before he added with a roguish smile.
"I have heard Lord Lydden has quite a beautiful pair of daughters," his uncle added, making him shake his head.
"Let him through," and the guards parted ways as they let him through on foot. He was a small enough man, and he did not miss how the steel of his helmet did not quite match his plate.
It was not exactly strange or out of the ordinary, but the quality was too far apart.
"Rise, and give me the letter," and just as he rose, their eyes met for a brief second before he noticed the red tinge at the edge of the rolled paper, as a chill ran down his spine.
"ATTACK!" he shouted, and the man moved as well, and swung out his dagger at him, and being on horseback, he couldn't quite jump away, and the steel tore into his horse's side, and cut away the straps of his saddle.
"AGHHH!" and he felt it loosen, as his horse neighed in pain, and his back hit the ground.
"THE PRINCE IS DOWN! PROTECT THE PRINCE! PROTECT THE PRINCE!" and for a second, he felt the world spin as his horse ran away, giving the bastard the opportunity to close in on him as he tried once more to strike him down.
Yet he rolled on the ground just in time for the blade to miss his face, before blood painted his face as one of the guards cut his head clean off.
Steffon's heart was hammering as the guard offered him a hand.
"My Prince, you need to get up," and by now he could hear the screams and the shouts, as men poured out of the woods around them, and he counted some dozen men all armed with well forged plate.
And by now his head had stopped spinning, and his blade was out as the guards all formed up.
"My Prince, you need to go," his captain added, as he offered him his horse.
"Take half the men with you, and ride full tilt for Deep Den," and the twelve here they could face, but if there were more hiding then it could indeed be trouble.
"We can take them," he suggested, for talking away half the men would only make it more dangerous for the rest.
"Those we can see. We do not know how many of them there are. Deep Den is just a few miles ahead. You will be safe there," and with every passing second wasting precious time, Steffon put away his blade and nodded as he jumped onto the horse.
"Protect the Prince! Protect him with your life," and the men rushed forth, as half of the men rode forward with him, while his uncle followed behind him.
They could hear the sound of steel clashing and men dying, as the bandits all clashed with his guards, and screams of men tore through the skies.
"You knew this would happen," Tyrion added from behind, as Steffon's lips thinned in both rage and trepidation.
"So that means you also know who exactly is behind this?" and he did indeed, and he was beginning to contemplate how he was going to deal with him.
.
.
.
Back in Kingslanding, the Spider walked into the gardens where the Queen sat with her eldest son, basking in the light of the Sun. His usually quiet steps had become not so silent as he rushed through the brushed glass and came upon the Queen.
"What brings you to these gardens, Lord Varys?" the Queen questioned, as the bald man bowed and gave a sorrowful expression.
"I am afraid I bring grave news, my Queen," he began, as those green eyes narrowed and three pairs of the same green eyes turned towards him at once.
"What?" Cersei Lannister asked, rising to her feet.
"There has been an attack on Prince Steffon's retinue...."
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