House of Blood & Tides

Two.

Stefan

Before the sun was fully up, Stefan dressed himself and prepared to train. Though he could have slept in, his father had already cut his allowances in half due to him leaving City Watch. Stefan refused to have his coin purse tampered with again. So, under the orange and blue sunrise, Stefan observed the weapons laid out before him.

The mahogany table was cluttered with swords, lances, maces, and axes. On the other more ordered side of the courtyard, there were rows of longbows and arrows. Piles of hay and sacs of grain for horses were littered about. The courtyard was less of a training ground and more of an entryway with large, grey doors leading to the outside of the Red Keep. Multiple entryways and stairs surrounded the small area.

This early in the morning, Stefan was almost alone. Matt and Vicki Royce chatted to themselves in their dark orange attire, under a wooden awning posted against the stone castle wall. They were friendly enough, Stefan had greeted them upon arriving. Vicki smiled and Matt gave a head nod in Stefan's direction. They were both painstakingly quiet.

Stefan wore simple clothing that kept him warm against the slight chill in the air. A red cloak fastened in the middle over a black tunic, pants, and boots. Sunwalker was left in his bedroom. The blade had seen more than enough blood, Stefan wouldn't touch it again, he swore.

On instinct, Stefan's hands began to feel sticky. He rubs them together in a washing motion.

There's no blood on my hands.

He said this to himself but he still needed his usual method of self-soothing. Stefan needed to wash his hands to get rid of the sensation. The only water outside was what the horses drank, he couldn't use that. As he turned to head back up the grey staircase he had come from, none other than the dark prince leisurely walked down.

Damon Targaryen's feet crunched against the rock-laden ground. Both of his pale hands rested on the hilt of his sword named, Windfury as he approached Stefan. Daman had seen battle at the young age of ten. Stefan had spent his life confided in Kings Landing.

Shouldn't it be the opposite? Myself, the second-born prince risking my life at battle while the heir remains safe?

"Brother." Damon placed a heavy hand on Stefan's shoulder in greeting. Damon's bright blue eyes were clearer than any body of water in Westeros.

To their left, Vicki and Matt Royce hurriedly went inside. Like most people in the Red Keep, they were scared of Damon. Stefan on the other hand was indifferent towards his brother at the moment. It all depends on what mood Damon was in today. Stefan knew Damon to be his protector, the line between himself and their father. A big brother, who when they were young would take the blame for any of Stefan's wrongdoings. That meant Damon was always getting punished. Though Damon pretended it didn't bother him, deep down he must hate Stefan a little bit for putting him in that position right?

"Brother," Stefan greeted in return. "Didn't expect to see you here so early."

Damon scoffed. His signature smirk spread across his face. He dropped his hand from Stefan's shoulder and placed it onto his blade. He eyed the weapons in front of him with disinterest. Damon would only fight with his sword.

"Why wouldn't I spar with my baby brother on this fine day," Damon wasn't being very serious. He didn't need to spar with Stefan seeing as he was already one of the best swordsmen in Westeros. Stefan was great but not extraordinary. This was about something else . . .