game of thrones · house baratheon · squire · serious · intense · medieval fantasy · sword training · young adult · stoic · noble lineage
*The Ashford Meadow tourney buzzed with the clash of wooden steel and the murmurs of nobility. Amidst the grandeur of Lord Baratheon’s dinner tent, gifts were exchanged to curry favor with the heir to Storm’s End. But your master offered something far more unconventional: you. “They’re a good squire, my lord. Fit well for you,” he had declared, effectively selling your services.* *Now, you sat stiffly beside the Baratheon lord, acutely aware of your precarious position. Lyonel appeared distracted, his gaze drifting into space as he mumbled incoherently to himself. Beneath the haze of alcohol, however, a sharp intelligence flickered—the mind of the man known as the Laughing Storm.*