Chapter Text
The bastard of a king. That was the one thing that everyone recognized him for. He used to be proud of it before. But it was only because of the blood of his father and mother that he had been in the position he had been in. Why he was at Storm's End for nearly all his life with his uncle Renly.
Often, he had gotten gifts from his father; Robert Baratheon. A pony, a sable cloak, and a child-sized warhammer similar to his father's weapon that he used to smash in Rhaegar Targaryen's chest. He had often written letters to his father, to thank him for the gifts and that they would not simply be wasted. But it had been to his disappointment that he could not properly use one. It struck him deep, knowing that he will never truly use the warhammer his father had given him, the one that lay still in Storm’s End, far, far away from him. It was almost fitting that he could only use that warhammer; fitting for a child, nothing more.
When Lord Stannis had taken Storm's End, he had been quite saddened to be taken away from the only home he had known. But it had been a blessing for him to get to know his cousin, Shireen. Shy, sweet and kind. The only other family member to have treated him with kindness. Uncle Renly was nice, but not like she was. Devan Seaworth and Gilbert Farring were good friends to say the least. But that ended soon enough. Ser Davos had sent him away from Dragonstone with his cousin, Ser Andrew Estermont for parts unknown. He only wished that he could say good-bye to Shireen at least. He did not know when he would come back or if he would. Just to see her again.
Andrew and the others had often trained with one another. There was no faint praise like with the other castellans and master-at-arms. Triston told and taught him to improve his footwork and Andrew taught him him when and where to put more power in his strikes and creating feints. Lys was certainly different from Westeros. All the people, high and low, were beautiful with pale skin, silver-gold hair, and purple, lilac, and pale blue eyes of the dragonlords of old. He had taken a fancy to a girl there named Narha, who's ancestor may have been one of the Black Pearl's infamous children, that was what she had said. She certainly had the beauty of all her supposed ancestors; fair hair, dark blue eyes, light dusky skin, and sensual curves, in spite of her age.
But that soon came to an end. Andrew decided that they needed to go to Braavos. They had blended well enough. Andrew had bought a plush purple cloak lined with vair, a striped white-and-lilac tunic, and the parti-colored breeches of a bravo. He came to own a silken cloak and a tunic made of burgundy velvet that was lined with cloth-of-gold. Whatever adventures they would have had ended. For being in Braavos would be the way back to Westeros. They had met one of his uncle Stannis' men, Ser Justin. He advised them to keep a low profile and simply pretend to be simple sellswords.
It was there that he had met his brother, Gendry. He was older, taller, broader and stronger than he would ever be. Already a natural leader of men at his age, and looked as what he had imagined their father to be. Like a true king or conqueror. He was more of a Warrior's man than he could ever hope to be.It was jarring, to say the least. Edric knew his father had many other children, just not the golden ones their mother forbid him from meeting. Other Baratheon-looking ones, bastards like him. But he never suspected that he would meet one of them. They would live in his dreams, dreams of him and his father, Uncle Renly, and his brothers and sisters all living happily together in Storm’s End.
But his father and uncle were dead, his other uncle had tried to burn him. Ser Cortnay gone as well. He liked Uncle Renly well enough but even he had to admit that he was quite frivolous with the way he seemed to spend on clothes. Ser Cortnay was almost like a father to him. The families from his blood did not like him much. His own mother, Lady Selyse, seemed to hate him with every fiber of her being, from what he heard from the others. Queen Delena seemed amiable enough, but he knew not to press further. Uncle Axell seemed to burn him with his glares, and clearly wanted to still. Imry wanted nothing to do with him. Stannis was not fond of him; his mere existence a bane to the man. He hated him for taking everything away from him. His home, and the man he considered a father in all but name. But he was reminded that his blood was the only reason Storm's End had been his home to begin with. He certainly wasn't welcome at Brightwater.
Twas different with Gendry. Different as night and day, but they managed to find some common ground. And the more he thought about it, their father did not truly care for either one of them. It made him think about what he really wanted. The few scarce visits he made to Storm's End no longer sat well with him. What did he want exactly? Someone who would easily smile and jape with him? No longer did he want to be a son that King Robert would be proud of. He would be a Warrior's man, but not for his father. I am the son of a warrior and become one myself.
Yet, even after the war had been done with, he thought more and more on it. He may have been the son of Robert Baratheon and the disgraced Lady Selyse Florent, that was not necessarily a bad thing. From all accounts, his father had been a decent enough man before he had taken the crown. His father and his uncles were all alone in some ways, even with Ser Loras by Renly's side. His father further away from the things he knew and loved, Uncle Stannis ousted from the place he knew and loved, and Renly left alone to his own vices. He vowed not to make the mistake with Gendry. A family. A true family that cared for one another, that's what I wanted more than anything. Not just songs sung of my heroics, or being a brave and honourable knight.
So, it had come as a surprise that he was to take Brightwater. First, by Stannis' decree and later by Queen Daenerys and King Jon. Did that mean that Uncle Stannis liked me a bit? Or respected me? Even if he had taken me away from Storm's End, he was someone worthy of respect. And he had liked Jon even when he was a Snow. Of course, that was when he was still a half a boy who had been proud to have been a bastard. But it did seem to make him smile a bit. Like there was something he had not been telling him. He had trained him quite a bit along with Ser Andrew and Gendry.
They had made it clear that he needed a wife to rule Brightwater alongside him. There were some ladies that he liked well enough. The young innkeeper's little sister that Gendry introduced him to; Willow Heddle. Lovely and armed to the bone with a commanding voice that he liked well enough. The Tyrells introduced him to a distant relation of sorts; Alla Tyrell who was quite shy and certainly pretty. She certainly reminded him of Margaery, who he had all but fallen for when Ser Loras brought her to Storm's End. Lady Wylla Manderly of White Harbour, who had been quite genial with him and found her to be quite beautiful with her sea-green hair. Elia Sand was strong and vivacious with the way she held a lance. He did have an idea to marry Myrcella, after all, she was not his true sister after all. But before he could make a decision, Jon and Daenerys had recommended that he marry Sansa Stark.
He had seen her several times when he and Andrew had fought for the North and stayed in Winterfell until the snow had finally died out. She was certainly beautiful with hair that flowed like fire and clear blue eyes. In dim candlelight, her hair shone bright with colours of red and orange winking about. He had made conversation with her and was cordial to her. He had fought in the name of the North and for her. She was certainly someone worth dying for. But marrying her seemed more frightening somehow.
She did not give any indication that she was dissatisfied with him or the match itself. She smiled but he could tell that it was as false as many of the smiles their attendants had. Some of which were jealous Florent cousins that remained; resentful that they would now have to serve him. He was glad that Andrew decided to stay with him. He was more glad that Shireen had come, and with her betrothed, Dickon Tarly, as well. The few people he had befriended in Winterfell had come too. Tyrek Lannister and his new Westerling bride. Devan Seaworth looking as every bit a knight with his Kingsguard armour.
The wedding ceremony went off without a problem. Sansa looked like the Maiden brought to life. He felt himself blush as he noticed how her dress comfortably hugged every curve of her body. Although it was brief and chaste, he felt that her kiss invigorated him more than simply wearing a favour would. Gendry came up to the dais along with his wife, Arya; Sansa's sister. When he had heard that Gendry was to be given Storm's End, he felt a bit jealous. But his brother never had anything to call home before. Storm's End could be that for him, and he gave up and let go any jealousy he harboured in the moment. Arya was quite vocal about warning to not hurt Sansa. Tyrek and Devan had congratulated him. Shireen advised him to treat Sansa well, and he told the same to her betrothed. Although, it became quite clear that the young heir to Horn Hill was smitten with her.
Soon enough, the bedding had been called for. It was both exciting and frightening as everyone had pulled their clothes off. As he was suddenly thrown into the bedchamber, he felt quite aware of his nakedness. Embarrassed really. The moment he saw her on the bed, trying to hide her figure, he thought that he would faint at the sight. But then he looked closely at her, he realized that she looked quite scared. Almost as if she is expecting to be forcefully bedded. He wouldn't want to hurt her, or anyone really.
"We don't have to do anything, if you wish. But I must ask that we do one thing at least, my lady."
"And what would that be, my lord?"
"Talk. Nothing more and nothing less. Should something actually happen, only if you allow it to be so."
Her eyes sparkled at that. As if she couldn't believe his words.
"So, ... what would you like to talk about?"
"Anything really. I wouldn't want to talk about the weather though; it's rather dreadfully boring honestly."
She had giggled at that a bit. "Alright then. How about ... family? You know most of mine from your stay. Though, I barely know any of yours."
"Not much to tell really. If I'm speaking honestly, I don't really know them."
And it was true. He had thought he had known his father and uncles well. That his father was a good and kind king. That his Uncle Renly was loving and fun, and that Uncle Stannis hated anything fun altogether. Father wanted nothing to do with me really, Renly didn't really care about anyone, and Stannis really does care but never showed it properly. His own mother didn't want anything to do with him, and felt nothing but shame and contempt toward him when he tried to reach out to her. Uncle Alester kept me at arms length. Uncle Axell simply wanted me to die just for existing. Merrett was an arse who believed that he should have inherited Brightwater, while Erren kept his distance from him. He did not know his reasons.
He didn't realize just how lonely he had felt until he had met Shireen and Gendry. Shireen welcomed him with open arms. Gendry was slower but he came to love him. Gendry felt like the sibling he wanted the most. The one he believed he would get out of Jofrrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Even if they weren't family now, he still considered Tommen and Myrcella family and had invited them. But Myrcella opted to remain in Dorne, and Tommen decided to go with her. Both of them finding their own love in Dorne.
"Family. A family. It's all I truly wanted."
After saying all that, he didn't realize that he had talked so much. Nor did he realize the tears that slipped out of his eyes. Sansa then looked at him and wiped away the remaining tear that dared to leave his eyes. She then crept closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. He then heard her mutter something lowly, it sounded like "I'm sorry".
They were close, so close her breath was fanning against his face. She was watching him, eyes closing and her lips parted ever-so-slightly, just enough to give Edric the encouragement he needed. So he leaned forward, brushing their lips together, feather-light, before pressing against her, fingers knotting and twisting into her hair. The tip of her nose pressed against his cheek. He slid his tongue over her lips, tasting lavender and rosemary and lemon and a hundred other perfect things, firing a heat low in his belly. It drifted towards his cock and he stiffened when she slid onto his lap, moving to straddle him so wonderfully between her perfect thighs. Her arms came around his neck and she opened her mouth to him, a moan escaping and only hardened Edric further. She pulled away, kissing his cheeks and forehead and jaw and neck. His head fell back against the bed and groaned, loving the weight of her hands pressed against his chest.
"Are you certain you want this? We needn't continue, my lady."
"I'm certain. We've lost much. And I want to give you what I truly lost. ... A family."
"Right now, you are my family. I'd like nothing more than to know every part of you."
She smiled at that, and they quickly resumed kissing. It was the only thing that he really wanted in his life. Nothing else. The one thing he truly wanted.
That had been the day of their wedding. Sansa was great as the lady of the keep. She managed to win Merrett over by arranging a betrothal between him and Alla Tyrell. Erren ultimately left and made his way to become a part of the Kingsguard. The sounds of their children's screaming had filled the keep. Robb, Bryce, Titus, Gillaine and Catelyn. Sansa looked lovelier now than she did before. Gendry and Shireen often visited whenever they could. Even Myrcella and Tommen.
Brightwater was no longer an empty castle that had belonged to his mother and her ancestors. It was no longer just a castle to maintain and rule over the surrounding lands. it was a home.