GOT: A Transmigrator's Conquest

Stannon adjusted his tunic once again, trying to make it sit right on his small body. He kinda still felt weird with this small height of the body, and just couldn't wait to grow up quickly.

The castle today was filled with music, laughter, and chatter, all flowing from the great hall to his room. Tonight was his seventh name day, a grand event where nobles, knights, and servants had gathered to honor him.

'What waste of money,' Stannon couldn't help but think as he was not a person of such huge occassions. After all a birthday party should be celebrated with people who love you, not with the people who are scheming behind your back to grab a piece of your throne when you are down.

'Come on....man up. This is just an event,' Stannon told himself as moved towards the door.

Outside, Jory stood guard, as always, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. His face softened as he saw Stannon step into the hallway.

"Happy name day, my lord," Jory said warmly, bowing his head slightly. "You look every bit the young lord tonight."

Stannon smiled faintly. "Thank you, Jory. I suppose I shouldn't keep everyone waiting."

Jory's grin widened. "Not unless you want your father roaring through the castle to fetch you himself. Come, my lord. I'll escort you."

The two began walking through the stone corridors, as Stannon admired how the kids in this world matured so quickly. Jory who had come to king's landing as his attendant was fourteen or fifteen.

Going so far from his home, to serve a prince who may or may not be good to him... that definitely wasn't an easy decision. Ot maybe he didn't get a choice in the first place.

He looked at Jory and wondered what this guy thought of him. Did he really serve him whole heartedly or was he just doing for the sake of it?

'Oh, how I wished, I had a mind reading skill,' Stannon wished.

As he was deep in his thoughts, servants hurried past, balancing trays of food, goblets of wine, and pitchers of ale.

"Happy name day, your grace," a maid said warmly as she passed, bowing her head.

"Thank you," Stannon replied, his voice childish and polite, just like the previous Stannon. Jory remained a step behind him, his eyes scanning the hallways for anything unusual, though his demeanor was relaxed.

When they reached the heavy doors of the great hall, Jory moved ahead and pushed them open with practiced ease, stepping aside to let Stannon enter first.

Golden chandeliers hung high above, their burning candles sending out a warm hue over the room. The tables were covered with roasted meats, sweet breads, fresh fruits, and jugs of honeyed wine. Servants moved quickly, keeping plates full and goblets brimming. Musicians played lively tunes in one corner, though their music was nearly drowned out by laughter and conversations. Though they did keep the atmosphere cheerful while they continued playing not bothering whether anyone was listening or not.

Baratheon banners lined the walls, their proud stag emblems shining brilliantly. At the head of the room, Robert Baratheon sat on his grand chair, a goblet in one hand and his booming laughter echoing across the hall from time to time when someone praised his son.

Beside him sat Cersei, her golden hair resting on her back. Her green eyes scanned the room sharply, a small, polite and queenly smile on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes.

'Damn, she's beautiful,' That was the first thought that came to his mind when he saw her. If not for her schemes and corrupted personality...no not even then. She was Robert's wife, even if that was only in name with no particular feelings between them.

'What the fu*k even I am thinking,' he shook of all those thoughts and focused on the celebration ahead.

Stannon stepped into the hall, his entrance briefly silencing the room. All eyes turned to him—some warm, others cold and calculating. Well, he couldn't really tell their expressions from observing their eyes either, but he wasn't wrong either.

He walked tall, his boyish face calm despite being the center of the attention.

Jory stayed close, maintaining a respectful distance but always within reach, his hand still near his sword.

'Dude just chill,' Stannon couldn't help but think as Jory seemed ready to chop anyone down who might approach him

Robert's voice boomed across the hall, breaking the silence. "There he is! The boy of the hour! Come here, lad!"

The room erupted into cheers and applause. Some clapped enthusiastically, while others offered only half baked smiles and half-hearted gestures.

Stannon too forced a small smile despite how uncomfortable he was feeling and walked toward the head table, nodding politely to those who raised their goblets in his honor. When he reached his parents, he bowed slightly.

Cersei's smile widened. "Happy name day, Stannon. Seven years old already. How quickly the years pass."

'Did you recite this or something,' Stannon wondered as the sentences felt quite robotic to him.

"Thank you, your grace," he still replied politely, feeling her sharp gaze on him, as if she were evaluating every move he made.

Robert clapped a heavy hand on Stannon's shoulder, making him nearly stumble. "Seven years! Gods, you're growing fast, boy. Soon enough, you'll be swinging a warhammer like your old man."

Stannon gave a soft laugh, even as his shoulder ached under Robert's grip. "I'll try my best, Father."

Cersei leaned forward slightly, her green eyes fixed on him. "Indeed," she said sweetly, though her tone carried little warmth. "But a warrior's path is dangerous. Are you sure he's ready for it, my king?"

Robert waved her off with a loud laugh. "Nonsense! He has the blood of the stag in his veins. He'll thrive!"

Stannon caught the flicker of annoyance on Cersei's face before she masked it with her usual warm smile.

As the day went on and the feast started, Stannon found himself seated near his parents. And his jaw dropped when he saw Robert devour his food like it was nothing. By the time Stannon was able to pick his jaw up, Robert had already eaten four or five people's worth of food.

He took picked at his food, quietly listening to the conversations around him.

Jory positioned himself discreetly against the far wall, his keen eyes never leaving Stannon. He nodded briefly when their eyes met, a silent reassurance that he was there.

At one point, a knight approached the head table and bowed deeply to Robert. "My king, the Prince shows great promise. His poise, his presence in a room full of adults... at such a young age, he commands respect. He's destined for greatness, mark my words."

Robert beamed with pride. "That's my boy! He'll outshine us all one day."

Stannon gave a polite nod to the knight as he left, wondering how easy it was to please Robert. Just praise his son and and the man's entire face would lighten up

Later in the evening, Robert stood, raising his goblet high. "A toast!" he called out, silencing the hall.

"To my son, Stannon Baratheon, on his seventh name day. May he grow strong, wise, and brave—and may he always honor the name Baratheon!"

The room erupted in cheers, goblets clinking as wine spilled onto the tables.

Stannon raised his goblet, feeling the weight of his father's words. As he sipped the sweet wine, he scanned the room. He reminded himself that not everyone here wished him well and he should always watch his back, even though the atmosphere seemed to be so pleasant.

When the celebration finally ended, the hall grew quiet as guests began to leave. Jory stepped to Stannon's side as he stood by a window, looking out over the the courtyard which shone beautifully in the moonlight.

"You did well tonight, my lord," Jory said softly.

"I am glad that it is finally over," Stannon replied, turning away from the window.

"Shall I escort you back to your chambers?" Jory asked.

Stannon nodded. "Yes, please. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Stannon and Jory walked down the quiet, torch-lit halls, silently. When they reached Stannon's chambers, they were surprised to find Ser Barristan Selmy waiting for them at the door.

"Ser Barristan?" Stannon asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"My lord," he greeted with a respectful bow, though his expression was tense. "I need a word with you. It's urgent."

Jory's hand moved instinctively toward the hilt of his sword, but he stayed silent, sensing the gravity in the air.

Stannon raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Ser?"

"Forgive the interruption, my lord," Ser Barristan began, his voice low but firm. "We have to leave for the North immediately."

"Leave? But it's late. And tomorrow—"

"Tomorrow will be a decoy," Ser Barristan interrupted, his tone urgent. "There are dangers stirring on the parth to North and in North itself. We cannot wait until dawn. We must leave tonight."

Stannon's expression shifted to one of concern. "Is something happening, Ser?"

Selmy gave a sharp nod. "Yes, I'm afraid so. There are whispers, rumors, and plots that cannot be ignored. Your father's enemies have always moved against him in the shadows and this time also, they definitely wouldn't miss the opportunity. The journey tomorrow will be a distraction, but the real move must be made tonight for your safety."

Stannon's mind raced. He already knew that Cersei was after him and was at least prepared enough to deal in case things went wrong. But adding other people.....things would definitely get even worse then before. It was a good idea to have a decoy and hopefully he wouldn't encounter anyone else before reaching Winterfell.

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