Chapter Text
"Good hunt today." Steffon told his cousin as their company were leading the high sparrow and his followers to the city's dungeons.
"I shall inform His Grace about the recent developments. He'll see to the fate of these curs..."
"You think he'll be more... approachable since morning?"
“If bringing him a whole nest of agitators as a parting gift isn’t enough to cheer him up, I don’t what is,” Aemon smiled at his cousin.
"Sounds about right. He's a Baratheon after all." Steffon smiled back.
"Remember the hunts in the Kingswood? Uncle Renly once flushed out a particularly sturdy boar when we were around 10. Never thought I'd see him climbing up trees as quickly as he did but Father got a really good laugh out of it. Not to mention that said boar made a real delicacy around the fire that night..."
“We should go back there
after the campaign’s settled,” Aemon smiled fondly at the memory, “Show those wolves that used to terrify us when we were boys that the party’s over!”
"Certainly..." Steffon agreed.
The duo eventually reached the city's prison where they released the prisoners into the care of the Gold Cloaks manning the establishment.
"See to it that they kept separately from eachother and other prisoners and that they don't cause trouble. His Grace will deal with them shortly." Steffon instructed the officer in charge of the prison. The guards immediately got to work. But as they began separating the prisoners, the High Sparrow lingered back for a while...
"What do you want?" Steffon asked sharply.
"The Gods have cursed House Baratheon, Your Highness. And since you and your father failed to do your duty as defenders of the Faith, I'll do it myself..."
The blood in Steffon's veins went cold and his eyes narrowed as one hand was laid lightly on the hilt of his sword.
"Careful, High Sparrow. I was willing to overlook your blatant disrespect of my faith. And I've restrained myself of letting you keep your life until you face trial, despite having every right to have your head for suggesting I depose my father. But I will not accept threats to the peace of the Kingdom."
The two men once again glared at each other. The High Sparrow had a will of iron, which gave him the courage to speak as boldly as he did.
But Steffon was the blood of the storm. He had faced down pirates and bandits and came out victorious each time.
Even if the High Sparrow had followers still on the loose within and around the city, planing to bring back the Faith Militant, Steffon was confident that they could put that nonsense out quicker than a breeze would put out a lit candle.
The Crown Prince of Westeros was not afraid to fight and he knew that the royalists would win against any ragtag army the zealot in front of him could raise.
"Let's go, Aemon. We're done here." Steffon said, leaving the guards do their job.
"The audacity of that vermin..." Steffon growled in frustration after he and Aemon had put some distance between them and the prison.
“Should’ve spilled his treacherous blood when we had the chance,” Aemon growled.
"We probably should. But what's done is done. If having Father taking care of this matter puts an end to it, so be it."
Finally, the two cousins made it to the Red Keep.
"I'll go see Father. What will you do?"
“My father wants me to visit the quartermaster's department before tomorrow, and I still have some packing to do before we leave."
"Then I guess that I'll see you tomorrow morning on our marching positions." Steffon said before the two cousins exchange the warrior's handshake.
“Thank you, cousin,” Aemon smiled, embracing the Crown Prince, “I wish you good fortune in the wars to come."
"I wouldn't have anyone else fighting beside me. We got this, Aemon..." Steffon said before leaving.
"Ah, and see to it that you attended to your wife once your done with uncle Orys errands. I still feel like you two need to make up for the interruption I gave you this evening." Steffon called out to his cousin, laughing off as Aemon threw a rock at him.
Steffon navigated the corridors until he reached his parents' chambers. Tonight, Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was standing in attendance.
"Good evening, Your Highness. Anything I can help you with?" The old knight greeted the young Prince with a fond smile. A smile Steffon was quick to reciprocate. He always liked Ser Barristan. He stood a great teacher and a true friend.
“I need to speak with His Majesty, Ser Barristan." Steffon replied respectfully.
"Of course. I shall inform His Grace at once." The old knight said before knocking on the King's door.
"Yes, Barristan?" Argilac's voice was heard from within
"Prince Steffon is here to see you, Your Grace."
"Send him in."
Ser Barristan opened the door and stepped aside for the Crown Prince to enter. But before the lad went in, the Lord Commander stopped him with a hand on the arm.
"I know that His Grace might have his reasons to be displeased with how things were handled this morning. But if you ask me, you acted like a true knight. That is what the realm needs in a ruler, my boy. Never forget that."
Having said his piece, Ser Barristan let go of Steffon, resuming his guard on the door.
Steffon entered his father's chambers. But the King was nowhere to be seen.
"Back here, Steffon." Argilac's voice was heard from the balcony. It looked like the King's anger had subsided quite a lot since morning, though Steffon was still on his guard.
“Father, I have some… dark tidings to impart”.
"I'm listening, boy. What is it?"
“Today, was summoned to a sept in Flea Bottom for an audience with a faith militant known as “The Sparrows”. They told me to come alone, but I took Aemon with me and didn’t tell you because I thought they were just another religious deputation… but they offered me the Crown. They told me they wanted to unseat you for allowing other faiths to infiltrate the capital and that that they wanted to seat me on the throne. Naturally, I placed them under arrest immediately. Cousin Aemon and the gold cloaks helped me to bring them in. They’re awaiting your judgement in the cells as we speak”.
As Argilac was hearing his son's report, his face grew increasingly stormy.
"Sparrows..." He said. "Orys was speaking regularly about that lot lately. Turns out that they were a bigger problem than we had initially thought..."
"And their leader? Was the infamous 'High Sparrow' still in control of that lot? Or had they decided to change leadership along with the preferred king?"
“No, he is still leading them. The bastard actually tried to curse me as they were leading him to the cells…”
"Did he now?" Argilac said, his earlier frustration replaced with mirth. "Something to do with the gods having cursed House Baratheon and everything?"
“Something like that…”
"Fucking lunatic... don't worry. Stormbringer will see to a stop of this foolishness. Once the campaign is done."
"But for now, he and his lackeys will enjoy of the dungeon's... hospitality."
"Commendable job, Steffon." The King said, turning his gaze on the city below them.
“Thank you, Your Grace”.
“Enough of that. It’s “father”, boy, remember?”
No response.
"Listen, son, perhaps I was too hasty to cast blame for this morning's incident in the council chamber. The recent days have been... difficult for all of us."
“It’s just that… I don’t even know why everyone is so wrathful."
“Are Uncle Orys and Mother alright, now?”
"Your uncle and I will definitely need to have a rather long discussion after all of this is over. There were many things that were brewing over the last few decades for us to reach the fight we had this morning."
"As for your mother... I'm not sure if I can face her. Not now at least..." Argilac said, bowing his head in shame. "See to it that you treat your wife better than that lad. That was not kingly..."
“Why? What happened?” The lad insisted.
"It was a rather...nasty argument. Words were said that were shouldn't be said..."
"The pain of losing your sister...was too much to handle. Sometimes I look to the sky and ask the Gods why they didn't take me instead Minisa..."
Steffon did not respond but one could see him struggling to keep the tears back.
Seeing his son's distress, the King put a comforting hand on Steffon's shoulder.
"Those animals are at fault, Steffon. If that cocksucker, Euron Greyjoy hadn't murdered his own brother, if varys and his so called Aegon hadn't slaughtered your uncle Renly, along with with ser Loras and Viserys, your sister would never have been in danger to begin with..."
Now, Argilac put both his hands on his heir's shoulders. Making Steffon to look him in the eye.
"We will kill them all, Steffon. Every... single...one of them. Do you understand?"
“Yes, Father. I understand and I’m with you. My sword is yours”.
"Ours is the Fury, my son."
"Ours is the Fury, father."
"Good. I've been itching to kill something lately. Traitors and villains will do just fine..."
"But that's a matter of tomorrow. For now, return to your chambers, Steffon. Have a bath, drink some wine, spend time with your wife, and tomorrow we'll have our war."
On his way to his chambers, Steffon recalled the first time he and his father had fought side by side in a major war: when they took the Stepstones from the pirates and corsairs that were helping themselves to them.
At the end of the final battle, the one that had cemented firm Westerosi control of the islands in all but name, the King had walked to him and greeted with these words:
"You are indeed my son. Today you've proven yourself worthy to rule these lands..."
'I shall play my part. And bring those who had a hand in my sister's, my uncle's and my friends' deaths to justice...' The Crown Prince of Westeros vowed to himself.
SeleneK (Guest) on Chapter 40 Mon 06 Oct 2025 08:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
MaraudingCaptain67_38 on Chapter 40 Mon 06 Oct 2025 03:09PM UTC
Comment Actions