Sorry for taking so long, life suddenly got shitty.
Anyways!
Leave a comment because it tells me you want more!
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He could see the king's guard standing nearby and how tense his uncle Jaime was at the approaching company.
The prince stood beside his father and lord Stark at the head of the receiving line, armor polished and crimson cape fluttering slightly in the breeze.
The blindfold hid his expression, but beneath it, his face was tight with barely contained irritation.
He did not know who had sent the letter detailing Stannis's location, nor whether the information could be trusted.
What he did know was that the Ironborn were clearly preparing for something big. longships slicing across the waves toward Seagard, supplies piling high on the shores, and multiple groups of Ironborn moving with the purpose of men who meant to dig in and bleed their enemies dry.
If they continued to sit idle, things were going to go bat-shit insane faster than his old man could empty a wineskin.
Which was why he was barely able to keep himself from fidgeting as he and his father prepared to welcome his grandfather and the Lannister host he had brought with him.
"We should be sending out scouts to confirm Stannis's location right now!" he thought, fighting the urge to scowl as the great gates slowly creaked open. "We can exchange pleasantries later, dammit!"
Unfortunately for him, it seemed pleasantries were more important than getting his uncle back.
Thank the gods for the blindfold, because the look on his face would have shown nothing but pure annoyance. Hopefully, this would be quick, because the longer it dragged on, the more restless he became, and the stronger his impulsive thoughts grew.
The Lannister column rode in with a disciplined march, banners of red and gold snapping proudly in the wind.
At their head rode Tywin Lannister himself, sitting ramrod straight on a magnificent destrier, his expression as cold and unyielding as Casterly Rock.
"Is that…?" He looked away from the lord and to the person riding next to him.
Behind him, surrounded by a tight escort of Lannister guards, rode a figure in rich traveling clothes, their golden hair catching the light, features partially obscured by a hood and their own hair.
It was his aunt, whom he was still not sure as to why his grandfather brought along with him to war.
"She really is small," He thought, trailing off as he focused on her. "This would be the first time I would be meeting her in person."
He had only ever heard rumors about her, most of which were less than pleasant, when he asked the servants and guards about his aunt.
"A monster wrought of curse and judgment, born as punishment!"
"She hides a face most foul, with baleful green eyes veiled beneath her overgrown hair."
"Rows of jagged teeth, fit to feast upon children!"
"Hated and forsaken by her father, for she took his wife's life at birth. Ripping out of her stomach with clawed hands!"
He took their words with a grain of salt.
The few solid truths he did possessed came from Jaime, who would only occasionally talk about her when they were alone and only when he asked.
"You want to know about your aunt? Well, she loves to read for one, has a quick wit with an even sharper tongue, she can be charming when she wants to be despite her overwhelming amount of sass, gets easily embarrassed trying to reach high places, and…. cares more than she would ever outwardly show."
His uncle told him while reminiscing fondly of his little sister with a warm smile.
There was clearly a lot of bias there, but he trusted his uncle's words more than random rumors.
"Fools say my sister is repulsive and vile; they are wrong. To me, she is one of the most beautiful and kindest women in the world~!"
The man clearly loved his sister and was more than happy to show it. He practically glowed when talking about her.
His mother, however… never once spoke of her sister.
The single time he had tried, a pitch-black aura had surged around her like a living shadow, thick and suffocating, twisting the air itself as if it were alive.
After that, he never mentioned his aunt again to his mother and dropped the topic entirely.
And that was all he knew about the youngest Lannister sibling, Tyra Lannister, though the world knew her as simply "the Imp" in crueler whispers.
His grandfather, Tywin Lannister, on the other hand… he heard both good and bad things from his mom, uncle, and father.
"TYWIN LANNISTER LORD OF CASTERLY ROCK!" A man dressed fancily announced as the man finally arrived.
Robert stepped forward first, arms spread wide in a show of cold boisterous welcome that felt at odds with the tension in the air.
The lord and his men respectfully and deeply bowed their heads to the king and prince.
All this was an act to show the people watching that the bond between king and lord was strong.
"About damn time you dragged your golden arse out here!" the king bellowed, clapping the older man on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a lesser lord. "I was starting to think the old lion had decided to hibernate in his rock!"
The tense atmosphere eased with the king's greeting, like a storm breaking at last, steel shoulders loosening and breath slipping free.
Tywin's expression didn't flicker despite the force. He inclined his head with perfect, icy courtesy to the king and Lord.
"Your Grace, Lord Stark, the Westerlands answer the call of the crown. As they always have..."
The man's gaze slid past Robert and Ned before it settled on the prince with clinical intensity, green eyes sharp enough to cut.
"And to you as well, my prince."
…Wow, that's a lot of different colors flashing around the dude right now, despite his stone cold face showing none of it.
The only person who ever managed that was his moth- Oh, wait, his uncle was currently doing it too… It must run in the family.
Robert and Ned shared a look as they silently watched grandson and grandfather meet each other for the first time.
The prince offered a respectful nod, keeping himself steady and polite as he returned the greeting with what he hoped to be a confident smile. "It is an honor to finally meet you on the field, grandfather. Your reputation precedes you."
Tywin regarded him for a long moment before replying.
"As does yours, my prince. Miracles are rare in these times. One can only hope they prove… useful in the days ahead."
There was no warmth in his words; in fact, it sounded dismissive if anything.
The smile on the prince's face strained just a little.
"I'm sure it will."
He expected his grandfather to want to talk more with him, but it seemed it was his lucky day as the man focused back on his father and lord Stark.
It seems Ned didn't like his grandfather much, judging by his barely held back glare and angry black colors that were currently surrounding him.
But this allowed his attention to turn to his aunt, who dismounted with surprising grace for her stature, landing on her feet with practiced ease, and pushed back her hood.
Most of her face was hidden by her wheat-like hair as she looked up at the armored prince with a crooked smile.
"Well, well~" she drawled, voice light but edged with genuine interest and probing. "The famous Blessed Prince in the flesh, or should I say, in the very impressive armor. I must admit, nephew, the stories didn't quite do you justice. You look as though you could stare down a dragon and demand it to fetch you your dinner~!"
The prince couldn't help the small, amused twitch of his lips beneath the blindfold. He could already tell he was going to get along with this woman like a house on fire.
He lowered himself to one knee, bringing himself to her level, an act so unexpected that she almost flinched back before catching herself.
Gently, he took her small hand in his and pressed a soft kiss.
She froze, completely and utterly stunned, especially as gasps and harsh whispers erupted from the crowd that was watching.
Which he knew was about to happen the moment he heard about her.
In both of his lives, he had learned the same hard truth: people feared and hated anything strange or different from what they considered to be "normal," and in a medieval world, that fear and hate were multiplied by a ridiculous amount.
The sight especially caught the eye of the three high-born men, his grandfather making a rather particular expression while the aura around him went chaotic.
Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. They only trembled, opening and closing in silent disbelief, as though her mind could not quite grasp what had just happened.
"Aunt Tyra, a pleasure to finally meet you~ Uncle Jaime said nothing but good things about you! Though I'd hoped our next meeting would be under less… urgent circumstances." He smiled charmingly; he could see red practically engulf her as he did.
His aunt, after taking a quick moment to compose herself, shrugged one small shoulder as she smiled brightly at him.
"War does have a way of ruining family gatherings, doesn't it~?"
Before the prince could reply, Tywin's voice cut through the moment like a blade.
"Your Grace," the Lord of Casterly Rock said, turning to Robert with cool formality, "my men and I have ridden long and hard. We require rest and proper quarters. If it pleases you, I would also speak with you privately on matters of importance."
Robert looked annoyed by the interruption of the moment between his son and aunt, his good mood souring slightly, but he gave a curt nod.
"Fine! We'll talk, but Ned stays."
Tywin let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh but inclined his head in acceptance. "As you wish, Your Grace."
The prince, hearing this, was about to follow them along, eager to be part of any discussion involving Stannis and the Ironborn, when a small hand suddenly grabbed hold of his own.
He looked down at the one who grabbed his hand.
His aunt Tyra was smiling up at him, the expression perfectly innocent, though her hidden eyes sparkled with something far more mischievous.
"I've heard so much about you from bards and gossipers," she said sweetly, light and disarming. "But now that I've met you in person, I can't help but want to know everything about you, dear nephew~"
Was this her way of saying she wanted to hang out? He would be more than happy to in any other situation, but right now was kinda…
The prince looked conflicted, glancing between the retreating backs of his father, Lord Stark, and his grandfather, then down at his aunt.
Before he could say anything, Tywin's cold voice cut in once more.
"Stay with your aunt, my prince. Get to know each other better while the men talk."
The prince frowned at his grandfather but said nothing. Instead, he looked toward his father, the only one who had the authority to tell him what to do.
It seemed his grandfather knew this as he, too, turned to the king and stared into his soul.
Robert, the victim in all this, sighed, especially as he was being stared at by both his son, whom he loved, and his good father, whom he owed a massive debt to.
He turned to Ned, who sighed as well and whispered something to him, advising him not to upset Tywin and to let the old lion have his way for now at least.
Robert grunted, then waved a hand at his son.
"Go on, lad. Talk with your aunt. We'll handle the rest."
The prince's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but he gave a respectful nod.
"As you wish, Father." He didn't pout, thank you very much.
Tyra's smile widened, her small hand still holding his as she gently tugged him away from the main group.
"Come along, dear nephew~!" she said cheerfully. "I have so many questions I want to ask you! Tell me, is it true that you made swords of…"
The prince allowed himself to be led without protest, though he silently promised to himself to get payback from his grandfather.
Was that petty of him? Probably, maybe, definitely, but he didn't care, so it's fine!
For now, however, if he were to spend time with his aunt, he would see to it that he enjoyed every moment to the fullest.
Besides, he needed to relax anyway; the stress from everything happening was really overwhelming him, even if he tried not to show it.
"Hey~ wanna do something fun?" He asked his aunt, who stopped mid-sentence and looked up at him curiously.
"…Depends on what you mean by fun." Despite her hesitation, he could tell she was more than a little bit interested.
With a sly smirk, he dropped smoothly to one knee, catching her off guard as he swept her up into his arms in a seamless princess carry.
"Wha—!" His aunt cried out, completely startled as her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Let's go!"
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Tywin watched as the prince of the seven kingdoms ran off with Tyra in his arms, a massive headache suddenly making itself known.
"Ha! Never seen him that excited before! Good on ya for introducing the lad to his aunt! Don't you agree, Ned?"
"The prince does seem to have taken a liking to her."
The two fools of men beside him didn't make it any better.
Gods, he was surrounded by idiots.
He turned to "Jaime," causing him to flinch, and covertly motioned for him to go handle the prince lest he make an even bigger commotion than he already had.
Hopefully, this wasn't going to be a common occurrence with the boy…