Chapter Text
67 AC
As they made camp for the evening, Queen Alysanne reflected on the women's court of Gallowsgrey.
"It was kind of you to allow Talla to sit with you, Your Grace." Jonquil Darke remarked.
"After what she had been through, she required support." Her Grace responded as she cut up her meat.
During the court, Queen Alysanne granted the maid a spot by her for the evening. She even instructed her sworn shield to guard her for the duration of the court and the donations to the smallfolk.
"I believe we did quite well in guarding her." Princess Alyssa said with pride, recalling how she also stood by the maid, wooden sword at her side as if to stand guard as well. The recollection causes her mentor to chuckle.
"I have taught you well, princess." The Scarlet Shadow says, smirking at her student. Alyssa holds her chin up with a proud smile, earning chuckles from her family.
"Yes, truly, The Warrior has blessed you with valor that evening." Baelon teases, to which Alyssa responds with a childish smirk.
Alynne Baratheon turns to the princes and smiles.
"It is nice to see you both recovering well after the events that you had witnessed." She comments, prompting the brothers to look at each other.
A silence falls across the rest of the group.
"I-I meant nothing by it, my princes." Alynne quickly corrects herself.
Aemon chuckles at this.
"No, no. It's quite alright, Alynne." Aemon says to her, trying to reassure his cousin. "Yes, Baelon and I are still doing our best to move forward after seeing...well, the man being gelded. It was quite the sight indeed." The tone of his voice carries slight tremors to it.
"I don't recall the last time I have seen you vomit before that." Baelon remarks, still slightly shaken from witnessing the punishment.
"Nor have I seen you go so pale so quickly." Aemon responds.
Alyssa then leans over onto Baelon's left arm. "Poor, poor Baelon." She says with a mixture of comfort and teasing in her voice. "They'll have to come up with a new name for you now. Baelon the Pale, perhaps?" Her face morphs into her lopsided smirk as she looks up at her brother.
The 4 day ride and flight comes and goes rather quickly. Chatter rises among the children. Topics ranging from what Parchments would be like? What training under the Penroses would entail? What would occur at the upcoming women's court?
However, the most recurring topic was the destination that followed this one. The progress was nearing its end and it would do so with one final, and quite appropriate, destination.
"You must be excited to return home." Princess Maegelle commented as Brienne and Alynne could barely hide their smiles.
"The Red Keep is glamourous, without question." Brienne remarked with a very assured smile. "However, it is nothing compared to the comforts of ones home."
"Storm's End is said to be a rather haggard structure." Prince Vaegon coldly commented, causing Alynne's eyes to light up even further.
"I should hope so, my prince." She responds. "They say it's been fighting off the gods since its construction."
Soon enough, the visage of their destination comes into view. The stones of Parchments appeared to be much more pale in color compared to their past destinations. House Penrose is an ancient family that dates back to the age of The Andal Invasion. The varying towers appear well fortified and are connected to beautiful, lush gardens. The sept of Parchments is one of the first sights visitors are greeted to upon entering the town. The smallfolk line the street, cheers ring out upon seeing Vermithor and Silverwing and grow even louder as the queen's mount lets out a light chortle.
Compared to their past hosts, Lord Manfryd Penrose and his kin wait outside the gates to greet the Targaryens. A man in his fourth decade, Lord Manfryd is well known as having a mind as sharp as his axe. As a matter of fact, it is said that Lord Boremund enlisted his counsel when he first came into his seat at Storm's End. His long mane of red hair is a distinguishing trait among his fellow stormlords. Beside him is Jeyne Penrose, Lady of Parchments. Her brown eyes convey her soft, matronly nature. Her golden hair hasn't begun to lost any of its luster despite being near in age to her husband.
Trailing next to her are each of their children. Leona Penrose, their eldest child, is quite a beauty compared to other girls her age. At four-and-ten, her freckles and green eyes, coupled with her curly red hair, all make her a beauty many fathers in The Stormlands have tried to betroth to their sons. Podrick Penrose, the heir to Parchments, follows her in tow. He and his twin brother, Hobert, bare striking resemblances to their father. They both have their father's strong face and deep red hair. Prodrick, at three-and-ten, already showed promise for knighthood. According to the master at arms, he is a prodigy with an axe. Hobert, on the other hand, had little interest in training at arms and much preferred reading.
The family collectively bowed to their king.
"Your Grace, House Penrose is most humbled to welcome you under our roof." Lord Penrose says with a joyous boom in his voice.
"Indeed, my lord." King Jaehaerys responds with a gentle smile. "I recall our last meet being the tourney after the completion of The Dragonpit."
"You were a most fine jouster." Queen Alysanne interjects, always happy to relive that most thrilling of memories. "I daresay that Ser Victor gave you quite a challenge."
Lord Manfryd lets out a slight boom of a laugh as he recalls when Ser Victor the Valiant, a former white sword, was granted entry into the tourney. He participated in the joust alongside the likes of Ser Robert Redwyne, Ser Simon Dondarrion, and then Ser Manfryd Penrose. While Ser Simon came out the victor, the standout moment for the lord was facing a member of the Conciliator's Kingsguard. They split 2 lances before Ser Victor managed to land enough force on his opponent's shield to force him off of his horse. The cheers let out were nearly deafening for him. However, being the honorable man he was, Ser Victor extended his hand to help him to his feet. Later that evening, it was noted that the two men laughed heartily into their goblets as they recounted the days events.
"My lord husband always gets a good laugh from that memory." Lady Jeyne chimes in. The woman bares a slight resemblance to Septa Lyra at a certain angle if one were to look well enough.
"Come, let us waste little more time before beginning the feast!" Lord Manfryd exclaims, earning cheers from all around, especially the children.
The dragons and horses are well fed as Penrose and Targaryen feasts in the walls of Parchments. Vegetables and meats, wines and ales, breads and cheeses are all given out for the empty bellies and joyous conversations held throughout the evening.
"My lord father oft told me of this castle." Jocelyn says to the young hosts across her table. "Lord Rogar held your grandfather in high esteem."
Their eyes light up as the memory of Lord Franklyn Penrose is mentioned.
"It brings us great honor to know he is still remember so fondly." Leona muses, her green eyes sparkle with fond reminiscence. "He always did wish for our family to be a great ally for the Baratheons."
"We can only hope your lord brother will share that sentiment." Podrick adds with a quaint smile, turning first to Jocelyn and then Alynne and Brienne. "It is a true honor to host Baratheons under our rood and we do hope that your entire house will, one day, share in the warmth we have to offer."
Brienne slightly chuckles, turning to hide her smile. Alynne notices this and smirks at her sister. Jocelyn pays them no mind as the mention of her brother captures her attention.
"I haven't received word from Boremund since before we left King's Landing." She says with slight regret in her tone. "I've not heard much our cousins. We know of them being fostered elsewhere in The Stormlands, yet we know little of them as they are."
The twins notice the slight discontent in their guests tone and both silently agree to try and remedy this.
"If it is of any consolation, my lady, we have some notion on at least one of them." Hobert says, earning the full attention of all three ladies. The princes and princesses, for their part, stay silent as not to interrupt this important conversation. Aemon, Baelon, and Alyssa all listen in to learn of this additional cousin of theirs. Maeglle sits next to Daella so as to comfort her through another feast. Vaegon, as always, is quite uninterested in the goings on of those around him as he focuses on his meal.
"Your cousin, the young Devan, has been staying at Harvest Hall for nearly 4 years now." Podrick reveals. "We paid a visit to our Aunt Kyra, Lord Selmy's wife. It was there that we got to properly meet him." Devan Baratheon, the only son of Ser Borys Baratheon, was sent to the seat of House Selmy as Lord Boremund came into his seat. This was done as a way to forge stronger ties with his vassals and to ensure a stronger upbringing for his cousin than he could provide.
"He seems to carry little of his father's belligerence." Podrick adds as he begins to further remember the young stag. "He seemed somewhat quiet, though a joy to be around once you get him going. He already has dreams of knighthood."
Hobert snickers at the reminder.
"I think he may have, briefly, pondered becoming a white sword one day." Hobert remarks. "Perhaps he was inspired by tales of Ser Raymont to have such a thought."
"Your uncle, Ser Garon." Aemon interjects as he potentially recalls mention another member of the Baratheon household. "He too has a son, does he not?"
Jocelyn turns her head and her eyes are bright with excitement.
"Of course." She eagerly says. "We have not seen Maric since he was a babe. He and Devan should be around the same age by now."
Three days have passed and the Targaryens gave begun to settle into the walls of Parchments. The older princes have taken to the training yard quite quickly, as expected of them. Young Podrick has proven to be a worthy opponent for both boys.
"Light on your feet, my prince." Ser Ryam instructs from afar. His ginger helps him stand out from his brothers in the Kingsguard, though it is nowhere near as deep a shade of red as that of House Penrose or House Trant. "As we've practiced."
Heeding the lessons learned from his mentor, Prince Baelon moves more quickly in his parries and ripostes. Podrick Penrose falls back onto defensive maneuvers, attempting to block the oncoming strikes of the young Targaryen. Beads of sweat fall onto the young Penrose's training leathers, brown and bearing his house sigil.
At ten years of age, the heir to Parchments proves to be capable enough in developing his defensive skills. His master at arms seems to have been teaching him well, he waits for the right opening and maneuvers his wooden blade to strike at the prince's wrist. This well-timed strike results in the prince dropping his weapon, as well as facing the receiving end of his opponent's blade.
"Yield!" The prince calls out with a red-faced smile. "I yield." His panting and sweat-streaked face are evident of how hard he has been exerting himself.
His opponent lowers his weapon with a smile. "Well fought, my prince." Podrick remarks with sincerity. "Perhaps we will face each other again, when we come of age for a tourney."
"One can only hope." Baelon responds, patting his opponents shoulder. "My brother, Aemon, is like to join us in those tourneys with me. Perhaps your brother might do the same?" He asks.
In response, the young Penrose sighs and sports a look of concern and exhaustion.
"Might I speak plainly, my prince?" He asks.
"I would be offended if you did not." Baelon responds, gesturing for them to sit on a nearby set of stairs, the ones leading to the Great Hall of Parchments.
"To tell you true...I have noticed, more and more, that my brother seems to be lacking any interest in the activities befitting a knight." Podrick reveals. "When we are not in our lessons, I am more oft found here in the training yard. Hobert, on the other hand, is more like to be found in the library."
"My brother, Aemon, had a habit of burying his nose in books for some time." Baelon reveals. "It would seem my other brother, Vaegon, has picked up this habit as well. Are you sure that it will not pass?" He asks.
"My lord father and I have made many attempts to change his mind. It would seem, however, that these efforts are fruitless." Podrick lightly laments. "Sometimes I wonder what he plans to make of himself."
Baelon ponders on this for a moment.
"If knighthood is not for him, perhaps his mind could be utilized elsewhere." He says before noticing a familiar visage in the distance. A smile grows across the prince's face.
"Brother!" Baelon calls out to his brother, the future king. "Come, join us!"
Aemon responds with a soft nod as his stride moves in their direction.
"Judging by your red faces, I must have missed quite the match." Aemon comments as he sits next to his younger brother.
"It would seem I have met another fine opponent in Lord Penrose's heir." Baelon remarks with a light chuckle. "We were just discussing our brothers and their reading habits."
Beads of sweat dripped down to Baelon's black training leathers, though they have avoided that medium sized Targaryen sigil stitched onto the tunic. Aemon's outfit appears more red in color with a golden dragon pin to hold it together.
"Should I worry about whatever jests are being made?" Aemon asks with a wry smile.
"Nonsense, brother." Baelon says, waving off his brother's worries. "I certainly did not mention your short phase of falling asleep in the library." He adds, earning a snicker from the heir to Parchments.
"Yes, well, I would say Vaegon has beaten me there." Aemon adds, sitting next to his brother. "With luck, this too shall pass. He is young and will surely grow out of it with time."
As the young princes and Penrose get on rather well, soon being joined by Princess Alyssa who clings to Baelon's side more than he does with Aemon, Queen Alysanne can only marvel with the joy a mother can have. She observes her children from the balcony of her the bedchamber she and Jaehaerys have been granted during the duration of their stay. The stature of the bed rivals that of the one used by Lord and Lady Penrose. The drapes are well crafted with a lovely pattern of quills on them. The desk at the corner near the balcony comes with a stack of parchment and a full bottle of ink and a set of quills.
"Such joys are a wondrous thing." Lady Jonquil says from not too far from her charges side. "The bonds between siblings are a most sacred relationship."
Her Grace turns to share her smile with her sworn shield. Queen Alysanne has always held great respect for her and is thankful she has agreed to train her daughter how to wield a blade properly.
"I can only hope such bonds last with time." She remarks as she faintly recalls the strained bond she has with her own sister, one she has not written to in some time.
"Agreed, Your Grace." Jonquil responds. "But, I see no reason why the bonds between your children would fall apart. They seem quite attached." She gives the queen a slightly sly smirk. "Some more than others." She teases, leading to both women sharing a laugh.
"Were you and your brothers so attached, my lady?" The queen asks, causing Jonquil to tilt her head up to ponder.
"Well, certainly not to the degree your family usually is." She responds, earning another chuckle from the queen.
"I would certainly hope not." Alysanne says with a smile.
"My half-brothers and I took some time to be acquainted with one another when my existence was revealed." The scarlet shadow says, recalling her childhood in Duskendale. "However, we all came to see how much fun our lives became with each other. We all had fun together...even when I proved to be better with a sword than them." She adds, maintaining her sly smirk.
Alysanne's visage becomes more soft and caring than amused.
"One can hope this courtesy is extended to..." The queen does not finish her words. Around 1 month prior to the progress, Lady Jonquil received a raven from Lord Clarence with surprising news. It was revealed that Lady Jonquil was not the only bastard their father had sired and Lord Clarence had taken both boys in as his wards.
"To my new half-brothers, Your Grace." Jonquil adds, softening her expression to one that is more understanding, yet no less confident. "You need not be ashamed to say it. I myself am not."
"Will you meet with them?" Alysanne asks. "I would grant you my leave if you desire to."
Jonquil steps closer to her, smiling as she appreciates how caring Her Grace is.
"I am grateful for this offer." She says. "But, I will need time to decide on this."
"Very well." Alysanne says as she slightly sucks her lips in, almost as if she is in discomfort. "My lady, would you please?" She asks, extending her hand.
Jonquil quickly takes it and guides her to the nearby chair from the desk.
"Thank you." Alysanne says as her right hand unconsciously moves to her belly. Her sworn shield notices this and widens her eyes.
"Your Grace?" She asks, seeking confirmation. In response, Alysanne softly chuckles.
"I did not find out until we were at Fawnton." She answers. "The only ones who know are the maesters there as well as His Grace."
"And, the princes and princesses?" Jonquil asks, her smile growing with each moment.
"I plan to make the announcement at Storm's End." She reveals. "I know that I can trust your confidence, my lady."
Lady Jonquil nods in response, walking over and resting her palm on Alysanne's right shoulder. "Of course you can." She warmly says.