Marie Baratheon

Marie Baratheon neé Celtigar, Lady of the Stormlands. Widow of Robert Baratheon and mother of Orys, Myranda, Steffon, Elenei and Reyna. ★★★ "Nature wronged her in not making her a man. But for her sex, she would have surpassed all the heroes of history....

[princesselaena-blog]

Oh, it’s been quite some time since you have been in the capital, has it not? I believe my husband and I are thinking of returning as well.

[mariebaratheon]

Almost a year, to be exact. Most of my small council duties can be dealt with from Storms End but often it’s better to be there in person. It’s been quite a deal longer since you and Lord Aerys have been to Kings Landing, has it not?

[youngstormlord-blog]

You don’t understand…..i….

Rhaella wants to travel a while, and while it’s quiet, I need someone to watch the Stormlands. I….

I don’t trust the steward.

[mariebaratheon]

I trust Rhaella knows now that she is not just a Princess anymore, that she is the Lady of a large and busy kingdom and therefore has duties to attend to? I sympathize with a desire to visit places, though like all other lords and ladies, myself included, she is subject to what is required of her. And do tell, what makes you so distrustful of Ser Anders?

[youngstormlord-blog]

I….I need you here.

[mariebaratheon]

I wish you would have as much faith in yourself as I have in you, Orys. You don’t need me here nearly as much as you think you do.

[mariebaratheon]

I think it is high time I returned to the capital again, for a prolonged visit this time around.

[lcrdwillas]

Fortunately, no one actually worth considering has stepped forward. I create no ill will by turning down minor houses, but should one of the noble lords present their son, it becomes a much more delicate matter. I’m happy to hear of your match to house Arryn. I’m sure your daughter and Jasper will turn out to be more than a capable match. I think I will keep Lena out of the political game for a while longer, though.

[mariebaratheon]

Indeed, the bruised pride of a man with an army behind him is quite the precarious matter. Yes, she and little Lord Arryn are already the best of friends. To each their own, Lord Tyrell, I am sure Lena will appreciate you consideration in future.

[mariebaratheon]

thewillastyrell:

She’s a child still, my lady. Most Lords haven’t even made the time to come and see her. I doubt I will ever accept a betrothal request until she’s old enough to have a say herself.

They don’t need to see her, Lord Willas. She’s a Tyrell and that in itself is reason enough to want their son betrothed to her. My own daughter was betrothed to Jasper Arryn when she was four, and now they have years to get to know one another.

[mariebaratheon]

thewillastyrell:

“If I get one more letter from a lord asking for my daughter’s hand in marriage, I will surely go mad. I’ve had a pile of them waiting for me every day since she was born. It gets incredibly tiring to answer them all in a polite manner.”

I’m afraid you will have to get used to it, Lord Willas. The offers will not cease until a match is made.

[mariebaratheon]

thearianne-martell:

To Lady Marie Baratheon, Master of Education,

I hope this raven finds you in good health.

I realize my letter may seem as a surprise to you, due to the little communication between us. But I hope that will be fixed with the next words I wish to write to you. 

I have heard of the birth of your youngest daughter. Reyna is the name, if I have been informed correctly. A year ago I gave birth to a son. Lewyn. And it occured to me how odd it is that the rest of the Great Houses in Westeros have been arranging marriages to one another for so long, but a marriage proposal between House Martell and House Baratheon has never existed in history. I believe that is a shame. And that is the reason why I am suggesting a betrothal between my son Prince Lewyn Martell and your daughter.

Let me know what you think.

To the Princess Arianne Martell,

I am pleased to confirm that your raven does indeed find me in good health, thank you for asking. In turn, I hope you too are faring well after the birth of your newest daughter.

While the lack of union between our houses may seem odd to you, I on the other hand am not that surprised. When you consider the history between the Stormlands and Dorne and the Dornish Marches, it makes some sense. However, I think you and I have a wonderful opportunity and duty to unite our houses and families, effectively putting an end to any animosity.

I readily accept your proposal for my daughter Lady Reyna to be betrothed to you son. Given they are still only babes, it will give them many years to grow accustomed to one another and build an amiable relationship.

Kind regards,

[mariebaratheon]

ofjoannalannister:

Of course. Wait… are you laughing at me, my lady?

Of course not, why would I do such a thing?

[mariebaratheon]

ofaegontargaryen:

It seems he didn’t let Rhaella know when he chose to leave King’s Landing.

Are you sure? Orys isn’t so thoughtless...

[mariebaratheon]

harrionkarstarks:

It’s no trouble, my lady. A story will keep.

Unless it is something of importance, then I am sure I could spare a few moments.

[mariebaratheon]

ofjoannalannister:

That’s alright, my lady, I’ll complete it some other time!

Such an understanding girl, thank you.

[mariebaratheon]

ofaegontargaryen:

I only wished to know whether you have seen Orys around, my lady. My sister has been looking for him.

Of course I’ve seen him, Your Grace, he is my son after all. Orys is here in Storms End with me and his siblings.

[mariebaratheon]

rhaenystheadventurer:

Forgive me if the details of my upcoming wedding have failed to intrigue you. 

Weddings are the only thing on everyone’s mind lately, I myself am kept busy making some arrangements for my son’s own ceremony. Do you plan on marrying before or after you sister?

[mariebaratheon]

A riveting story, really. Unfortunately I am unable to linger, so if you’ll excuse me...

[mariebaratheon]

--I know, it really is nothing short of a miracle, but I always knew Orys would return eventually.

[mariebaratheon]

Second Born || Self Para

It had been years since Marie had so openly wept, but upon receiving a raven from one of her husband’s men about the location of her son, weep she did. Grievously wounded, but alive, said the letter. It was vague and to the point, likely written on the road when there were better things to do. Still, the reassurance was desperately welcomed since she was unable to travel to the capital to see Orys for herself. Not with Jasper Arryn residing with them, it would be a nuisance for the little one’s to be brought to the capital and back again, just for Marie to ease her worries.

After a few minutes of allowing herself the outward display of emotion, the lady composed and cleaned herself before setting off in search of her other children to relay the happy news. Elenei was easy to find, and not that fussed considering the seriousness of her brother’s disappearance had been largely kept from the young girl. Steffon was next, and a servant obediently directed her towards one of the battlements and promised the boy could be found at the top. “He goes up there quite a lot, m’lady.”

Odd, Marie thought as she weaved a path through the castle and towards a staircase that would take her up to where Steffon was. It seemed a strange place to spend time, and she had been unaware that her youngest son frequented the spot.

Sure enough, once Marie emerged onto the cold and windy battlement, she spotted Steffon’s dark hair flowing wildly as he stared out onto the sea.

“This is a curious place to come,” She called over the whistle of the wind. Steffon’s head snapped up and his face contorted with guilt as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“No one bothers me up here.” Came the simple yet sullen reply.

“Well, I apologize for bothering you but I have news that I believe warrants it. It’s your brother, he has been found alive.” Marie would have added and well to the comment but she knew that it would have been a lie.

“I know, Eleyna has been telling anyone who will listen and everyone in the training yards is talking about it.” Marie didn’t understand, if Steffon already knew his brother had been found, why did he look as if his world was falling apart?

“Steffon, what is the matter with you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” The boy shouted as his face contorted that for a shocking moment made him look exactly like Robert. Steffon stormed along the battlement and slipped past Marie to reenter the tower.

“Steffon.” Marie snapped authoritatively while remaining one step behind her moody son. “Steffon, stop.” She reached out and snagged his arm before he could descend the stairs. “I demand you tell me this instant what is the matter, and what in the world made you think it was acceptable to speak to me in such a manner.”

He had the good grace to look contrite, at least. Feeling cornered, Steffon turned to his mother with an expression that made it seem as if he would start crying at any moment. “I’m glad Orys is alive Mama, I swear it. It’s just--” The boy flapped his arms in exasperation. “It’s just not fair! Orys was the King’s squire and he’s going to marry a Princess and everyone says he’s going to be a great lord one day and now people are singing a song about his bravery and I hate it!” Marie considered interjecting but decided against it, for it seemed Steffon had been waiting a great while to get this off his chest. “When he was missing, people started looking at me and treating me differently. I could’ve been lord and suddenly I mattered! For once! They called me Steffon the Spare and while Orys was missing, they stopped. Now people are calling me names again and they’re right. I don’t matter, everyone only cares about Orys, he’s all they talk about. They tell you and Da that you must be so proud of your son while I listen on.”

Marie was rendered totally speechless, a rare feat if ever there was one. She wasn’t quite sure what to say or do, but ended up going with what popped into her mind first. “Steffon, you are only ten years old. Orys had not achieved anything at your age, he was just a chubby little boy who ran into doors and tripped over rugs. Like him, you will get older and achieve your own greatness and marry a beautiful lady, you simply have to be patient.”

Steffon kicked the step rhythmically as he listened to his mother’s reassurances. “I don’t care! I still hate Orys for it, he casts a shadow that I’ll never be able to step out from. ‘There’s the great Orys Baratheon’, they’ll say. ‘And his brother, the useless Steffon the Spare.’”

“Anyone who speaks ill of you will feel my wrath,” Marie promised sternly.

“No! Then I’ll stop being Steffon the Spare and become Steffon the crybaby who ran to his mother when people called him names. You’ll make it worse.”

“Pray tell, son of mine, what should be done then?”

“I want to become a Maester.” Steffon announced, dumbfounding his mother into silence for the second time. “I don’t want to get married and spend my life here, watching from the sidelines as Orys does great things. If I become a Maester, I can study all sorts of things that Orys won’t, like healing and astronomy and economics and even magic.” For a moment, Marie spied an excited glint in Steffon’s earnest gaze. “Best of all, I can leave for the citadel tomorrow if I wanted, age doesn’t matter!”

At that, Marie shook her head. “No son of mine is running off to the citadel at ten years old, I do not care what you say.”

Steffon once again looked sullen and teary. “Please Mama! If I become a Maester I could even become and Archmaester or even the Grand Maester so you can still be proud of me. Mama, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being sad.” Marie was unsure what broke her heart more, the fact that her son thought rising to a high position was the only way she’d be proud of him, or the realization of just how miserable he was.

The lady pulled her son into a tight embrace and rested her cheek atop his soft, straight hair. She should have known that something was wrong. Steffon had been acting out of character for weeks, being rude to the servants, refusing to do as he was told, and even skipping his training with the Master-at-Arms. “My point still stands,” She said quietly. “You are too young to be running off to the citadel.” Steffon looked as if he was about to argue some more, but Marie silenced him. “However, I am not unreasonable. I propose that you wait until you turn five-and-ten, and if you still wish to become a Maester, you may do so with my blessing. In the years until then, you will partake in more extensive study with Maester Franklyn. Also, you have to convince your father on your own, if this is truly what you want.”

It looked almost as if new life had been breathed into her little boy, for a bright smile lit up his rounded features and chased the sadness from his startling blue gaze. “Oh Mama, thank you!” He wrapped his arms around her waist as tightly as he could while tears trickled down his cheeks though they were from happiness and not sorrow.

“You are most welcome, my love. Now come, let us search for Myranda and tell her of Orys’ fate.”