YUNHO
Yunho could see his breath forming in the air as he stood in the dimly lit chamber. The room was cold, the air numbing his skin. He could feel his heart thump, but he paid it no mind. Torches flickered, casting dancing shadows that played upon the stone walls. The air within the chamber hung heavy with the scent of burning, and while the room was adorned with tapestries bearing the sigil of his house, he could find no pride in them.
He should not have been here, he thought to himself. None of it should have happened the way they did. His house was in shambles, and the Realm found itself in a place where uncertainty loomed like an unyielding presence. The burden pressed upon him like the weight of a thousand crowns as the cold air seemed to seep into his bones, echoing the chill that gripped his heart.
He had hesitated to enter the threshold when he stood in front of it. He knew what he would expect to see, but he was unsure whether he was able to face it. It seemed that his destiny would be sealed in fate if he did, though he knew that there was no escape from it. The Gods had chosen him, just as the Stranger had chosen to reach for his father's hand. Yunho failed to understand why it had to be done now, of all times. Before everything, Yunho found content in his position of general, relishing in his strategic brilliance. He had been on his father's small council, given the prestigious title of Master of War, and he was satisfied. And now, there was a certain end tied to it. No longer would he command a single battalion. Instead, a much greater burden was thrust into his hands – the hands that held the reigns of the Realm.
In the centre of the room, he stood in front of the stone table where the King's body lay, shrouded in pristine white linen. The Silent Sisters moved gracefully around him, their faces hidden by hooded cowls with their hands veiled in white gloves. Yunho could barely discern their presence, his mind in a different place than the room he found himself in. Their silence seemed to mirror the sorrow that echoed within him, a void left by the absence of the one voice he had relied upon. Now, he was left in wavering waters; every time he would try to take a breath, the waves would topple him under once again.
It was a strange thing to him. He had seen roses wither and snow melt on a sunny day. He had felt the sun fade away and his skin cool underneath a darkened sky when every light seemed to be doused out. He was there when his mother died, but so many years had already passed since then. It was a memory that he had stored away long ago, and he felt uneasy to be reminded of the unknown that seemed to be present in this world.
Growing up, his father, much like his father before, preached the Faith of the Seven. As a result, Yunho learned to preach the Faith as well. He knew that there was one god consisting of seven different aspects. He had been taught about the Mother, a nurturing figure who bestowed mercy and protection upon her children; the Father, a stern dispenser of justice; the Warrior, a god of strength and valour in battle; the Maiden, symbolizing purity and innocence; the Smith, representing craftsmanship and labour; the Crone, a wise and foresighted deity; and the Stranger, a mysterious and often feared aspect, associated with death and the unknown.
Not much was he told about the Stranger in his youth. The Septa, who usually arranged the many lessons and taught him the things that a Prince was required to know about, only told him that the Stranger was there like there was fire to water and light to dark. Whereas the Mother or the Crone offered blessings, the Stranger took it.
''Now, my Lord,'' Septa Darna spoke, opening the leather-bound book on the designated page. Yunho's eyes travelled from the window, where he had previously seen a white bird fly away, to the symbol of the seven-pointed star that appeared on the page. ''Let us speak of the Seven, the guiding lights of our Faith. Have you heard of them, Yunho?''
Yunho nodded eagerly as he looked back to Septa Darna with an excited smile, ''Yes, Septa, I have! The Father, the Mother, the Warrior, the Maiden, the Smith, the Crone and...''
Pursing his lips, he thought about the last one. His enthusiasm seemed to falter as he struggled with recalling the memory of the seventh aspect of the god. Septa Darna smiled understandingly, flipping through the book to get to a page where there was another symbol of the Seven-Pointed Star. This time, each point of the star was decorated with a drawing of its respective aspect. She pointed to the aspect that was a cloaked figure with a skull for its head, its arms spread wide and far while two stars adorned the sockets where its eyes should have been.
''The Seven are our protectors, each with their sacred purpose,'' Septa Darna continued as Yunho's eyes shifted between the figures, ''The Stranger is the seventh, and while part of our Faith, we often speak less of him.''
Yunho furrowed his eyebrows as he rested his gaze on the figure that represented the Stranger,'' Why don't we speak much of him?''
''Ah, the Stranger is a mysterious one, dear boy,'' Septa Darna explained as she smiled gently, ''he is the keeper of the unknown, the one who guides us to the afterlife. While the others offer us guidance, the Stranger is more definite.''
''But, don't we need to know about him too?'' Yunho asked as he stared at the hooded figure. Though a drawing, its stars for eyes seemed to bore into his own, as if he was more than just ink on paper. It gave him a strange feeling like there was more to meet the eye.
''Indeed, young Lord, the Stranger has his place in the balance of things,'' Septa Darna continued, watching Yunho carefully. ''However, for young hearts like you, it is the warmth of the Mother's love, the strength of the Warrior's courage and the wisdom of the Crone that we often think of. The Stranger, in his own way, is best left to the understanding of those more seasoned in the ways of life.''
Yunho nodded thoughtfully as he tore his gaze away from the Stranger's figure, ''I see. So, do the other aspects watch over us more closely?''
''Exactly, my Lord. They guide us through the hardships of life, and as you grow, you may come to understand the Stranger's role in our Faith.''
The Septa seemed to be right, for he had come to face the power of the Stranger right before his eyes. Despite his many lessons and even his own attempts at research, he knew that he'd only understand death once he would see it for himself. The Stranger represented both death and the unknown. The Stranger was neither male nor female, yet both, ever the outcast, the wanderer from far places, and now, the Stranger had reached its destiny.
The days had become a blur following the death of his father. King Robert Baratheon II had ruled Westeros with a fair hand – strong and with grace. The Realm seemed to be pleased with his voice guiding the people, and for more than twenty years, he ruled the lands as well as he could. He honoured the pact of peace that was bestowed on Westeros ever since the end of the War of the Five Kings, but where the flowers of hope bloomed, so did the cracks in the walls broaden. Within a night, the Realm had once again become a place without a ruler. The seat that once commanded authority and stability now became the echo of a crownless King and a broken kingdom.
Yunho had been woken up in the depths of the night by one of the Kingsguard. While his body struggled to be woken up as fast as his mind, the moment the guard told him that his father had been murdered, he got up from his bed and ran out of the room. He could still feel the heartbeat and the eerie silence that had fallen upon the castle as he ran through the stone halls. The Red Keep had never felt so empty to him, even as he passed maids and other staff along his way.
It then was San Lannister, the Hand of the King, who stopped him before he could enter the King's chamber. While Yunho persisted and fought against San's grip, he knew deep down it would be best for him not to witness the gruelling scene that had played behind the doors of his father's bedroom. His father had died in a way of dishonour and unfit of a man of his status, and when Yunho was faced with the responsibility of sentencing the man who had committed such treason and profanity, he did not hesitate to give him the worst punishment there was.
When the trial was over, Yunho was left wandering around the Red Keep. He had never felt so low and so broken, for he had lost everything. Much like the Realm, he was in shambles. Whispers of conspiracy and treachery lingered in the air, and the courtiers eyed him cautiously, eager to know who would seat the throne in the name of the former King. There came a sudden sense of responsibility to him, knowing that he needed not only to protect his house's dignity but his own as well. The people around him viewed him as either a weak firstborn son of the murdered King or a new threat to the succession. And while he remained at court, he knew the decision of the council was dire, and if there would not be a person named to become the next ruler, Yunho was sure that a new war would follow.
His father had always prepared him for the possibility of him being chosen as next in line to the throne. Though the succession was not tied with blood anymore, it was a matter of wisdom and image that could determine whether someone would wear the crown or not. Yunho knew of his father's ambitions, which included the one of keeping the line of the succession close to heart. Though his destiny could not be determined by a certain truth, his father continued to teach him about the responsibilities that might come.
And when San Lannister had informed him that the council demanded to bring him to them, he knew that the choice had been made. It was on a bright, sunny day that Yunho was declared to be made King, following the death of his father. It was a responsibility he had expected to take on, though it still weighed heavily on his shoulders. His crowning would take place two days from now, as the council was still considerate enough to properly mourn the passing of his father and the pain that came with it. And as he stood in front of the stone table where his father rested peacefully, the air seemed to be thick with a sense of burden. He knew that once he would step out of the chamber, there would be no going back. He would not only carry the weight of his memories of that night with him but also the burden of the responsibility that came with the art of ruling. Yunho was unsure if he was truly ready for the challenges that awaited him. The throne was not just a symbol of power; it was a seat that demanded resilience, strategy and above all, sacrifice; something that his father had been as well.
The Silent Sisters continued their solemn tasks around the chamber as they prepared his father for the journey into his afterlife. Yunho's eyes remained fixed on the shrouded figure on the stone table. The white linen that covered the body seemed to glow in the flickering torchlight, and for a moment, Yunho could almost convince himself that his father was merely asleep. But he knew that there would be no waking from his slumber. The Stranger had claimed his father, and the weight of that reality settled heavily on Yunho's shoulders.
His eyes rested upon the tapestries that hung upon the stone walls. The familiar sigil of his house was embroidered on it with a delicate hand, its colours muted in the dim light of the chamber. The crowned Stag was coloured black on a field of gold as it stood high on its legs, emphasizing the strength of his house. 'Ours is the Fury' rang the words of house Baratheon, and where he once took pride in it, the events of late had seemed to cloud his understanding. The fury that now gripped his heart was not the same as the pride that had once fueled his ambition. His house seemed to be tarnished by a fate inflicted by reasonings of hate and disaster, and he was forced to carry the ghosts of its sins.
Looking back at the body of his father, he let out a sigh. He was unsure whether he was ready to take on the duty of King. All he wanted was for his father to reassure him of it, even if it were small words of affirmation. He longed for him to come back, for it to all be a foul dream which he'd wake up from. With slightly shaking hands, he reached out to touch the cloth that covered his father's body.
''Father,'' he whispered to the still form on the stone table, softly resting his hands on his father's covered hand. ''I never expected all of this to happen. I never expected to stand here, on the verge of kingship. It feels as if a knife is being held against my throat while I am singing the songs of old, and I am not sure if I can keep on.''
As he began his confessions, the Silent Sisters noticed his state of vulnerability and halted their tasks. Leaving the chamber quietly out of respect, the silence within the room seemed to mirror the yearning for comfort within Yunho. His eyes searched for a sign, a response, but the stillness of the chamber held only the echoes of the memories and unanswered questions.
''I have led armies, fought in battles, and aided you when you most needed it,'' he continued, gripping the hand of his father. He could feel the cold of his skin, piercing through his own like icicles falling into the powdery snow. It should have been macabre for him to touch the dead body of his father, but to him, it was the last chance to show respect and to pour out his heart before things would change indefinitely. ''Ruling, however, seems to be a different kind of battle, Father. A battle where every decision can be a sword or a shield, and I am not sure if I have the strength to wield them wisely,'' he admitted, his voice breaking with vulnerability he rarely displayed.
Yunho felt the tears in his eyes that he had desperately tried to swallow down, for he did not want to be seen as weak. But in this chamber, surrounded by the cold embrace of death, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. His breath quivered as he spoke, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him like the stone walls of the Red Keep.
''I miss your counsel, your voice guiding me through this pit of uncertainty. The court is a sea of whispers and I feel like a ship tossed in a storm. What if I fail, Father? What if I lead house Baratheon to ruin?''
As if in response, a sudden gust of cold wind swept through the chamber, causing the torch flames to dance wildly.
''I thought I was prepared for this, but now I realize how unprepared I am,'' Yunho admitted as he shivered, his voice echoing through the room. ''I wish you were here to tell me everything will be fine, that I have the strength to overcome.''
He glanced at the Stag on the walls and felt a sense of dread wash over him. Everything that he had ever done in his life led up to this moment; the moment where he would be handed over the torch. Now, it would be his duty to keep the flame going, for a night without fire would be a night with death. He tried to find himself becoming the Stag that his family honoured from the first, and yet smoke seemed to cover his vision.
''What if the fury within me devours everything?'' Yunho asked with a silent voice, mirroring the melodic sounds of the flickering torches. ''What if I can't protect the legacy you built?''
He knew that there would be no response given from the other side. Though he searched for a voice, a spirit, or even just a small flicker of light to let him know that he was not alone, there was nothing. At that moment, he knew that the fate of his house and the Realm rested upon him. There was no running away from it, and though he looked for guidance in a force that had long passed this world, it was up to him to find that back within himself. He was the fury, the strength of the black Stag of Baratheon. Now, he would be King, like his father, and he would rather die than lay waste on his house.
Straightening his back, his hands let go of his father. The time of mourning passed, and the hour of duty had come. Yunho knew that the Realm was already decked by a blanket of fear and dread following the murder of his father, and he realized that it could only be him who would be able to align things back to where they were supposed to be. He was the light that would guide Westeros out of the cave of unknowing, and he would do so with a fierce hand. He was his father's son, and giving up was not something he was taught.
Giving his father a last glance, he nodded out of respect, praying that his father would find reckoning and solace beyond the borders of life. He had always believed that the journey of death offered choices even harder than those faced in life. It was not a matter of good or bad in the afterlife but instead whether someone would be able to make the right choices when confronted with the mysteries that awaited them.
''May the Seven guide your path, even in death,'' Yunho whispered as he preached his final goodbye to his father, and with a heavy heart, he turned to leave the chamber.
Stepping out into the corridor, the gravity of his new role settled upon him like a cloak of responsibility. The night was dark, yet fresh of air. Yunho found himself at peace as he stared beyond the canopies and into the outdoors, knowing that one chapter had closed to give way for another. He found himself a changed man, and though he remained in conflict about whether the path he was treading on would lead to the right destination, it was a risk he was willing to take. As he stood in the hallway, watching the torches along the stone walls casting dancing shadows, the sound of footsteps approaching him interrupted his thoughts. San Lannister, once the Hand of the former King, approached him with a gentle smile.
''My Lord,'' He began as he halted a few steps away from Yunho, ''my apologies for interrupting you at this moment, but the small council awaits your presence. They wish to discuss the matters of the Realm and the succession, now that time is beginning to pressure the fate of the Realm.''
Yunho nodded in response, acknowledging the fact that he would be no longer able to avoid his destiny. If he would take one step further, it meant that he would seal the words of his fate. There was a river of emotions that took current within Yunho's body, and it would need great strength to swim ashore. Yunho could sense San's eyes on him, and as he looked at the blond-haired man, he could see the understanding within them.
''My Lord,'' San began, his voice low and respectful, ''I understand that this is an incredibly trying time for you. Everywhere in the Realm eyes are dawned upon you, whether in search of guidance or in attempts of trying to bring the Stag of Baratheon to his knees. I have never doubted your father, and I will do no such thing with you. You are a wise and vigorous man, and I am here to assist in any way I can.''
Yunho nodded, appreciating the sincerity in San's words. He felt great comfort in the man, realizing that perhaps he was not all on his own. The two men began to walk through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep as the echoes of their footsteps resonated against the stone walls.
''I must ask,'' San continued, as Yunho gave him a brief glance. He was significantly shorter than him, yet he did not doubt the power of the Lion, ''did you weep for your father? It is a heavy burden to bear, and shedding tears is no sign of weakness.'' Yunho's gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression stoic.
''I wept,'' he admitted quietly. ''But it wasn't just for my father. It was for the weight of the crown, the responsibility that now rests on my shoulders. The tears were not just for the man who raised me, but for the uncertain path that lies ahead.''
San hummed in response, ''You are not alone in this, my Lord. The small council is here to support you, and I, as your Hand, will do everything in my power to ensure a smooth transition and a prosperous reign.''
The torchlight flickered as they reached the doors of the grand chamber where the small council usually assembled. San turned to Yunho with a gaze that conveyed both sincerity and a tinge of curiosity.
''I may have not served your father for as long as he reigned, but he told me many things that may find their purpose back to you,'' San began as Yunho listened attentively, ''Your father once told me that a King's strength lies not just in his sword arm but also in his heart. It takes strength to show vulnerability. Your tears do not diminish your strength, but rather, they humanize you. The people will see a ruler who understands the weight of his decision and the sacrifices that come with leadership.''
Yunho absorbed San's words, feeling more at ease by hearing San's words. ''I appreciate your counsel, San. Though, I can't help but wonder, what if I make the wrong choices? What if my reign brings more strife to the Realm?''
San placed a reassuring hand on Yunho's shoulder as he gave him a kind smile. ''These are natural concerns, my Lord. No ruler is without doubt, and your father most certainly faced the same uncertainties when he took the throne. It is about learning from each decision, adapting, and always striving to do what is best for the people.''
The doors of the chamber loomed in front of him as he thought of San's words. There was a great truth in them and if he wanted to fulfil the legacy of his father, Yunho knew he had to embrace the challenges that lay ahead. The crown would find its way to him in two days and there was no denying the inevitable. Instead of grimacing, he should honour the decision of the people to choose him to be the pillar that the Realm rested on.
He moved his gaze from the doors to one of the banners that hung on the wall. The sigil of the Stag seemed to stare at him, but this time, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. Though the fury of house Baratheon seemed to be clouded by smoke of doubt and fear, he swore to himself that he would alight it once more. The responsibility of the Realm was now his to bear, and he would do so with grace and resilience.
''The Stag may be crowned in fury, but it is the duty of the Stag to weather the storm and emerge stronger,'' Yunho whispered to himself, trusting on his own words that he would prevail.
With that, he took a deep breath and pushed open the doors, ready to face the destiny that awaited him.
_
A/N: AHHHHHH I FINALLY GOT TO UPDATE!!!!!! I WAS PRETTY TORN CAUSE I WAS SO UNSURE HOW TO WRITE HIS CHAPTER BUT NOW I AM PRETTY SATISFIED WITH IT AHHHHH AND ALSO SAN LANNISTER MY HUSBAND HAHAHHAHAHAHA
ANYWAYYY I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS CHAPTER AND THAT YOU WILL LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT ONE!!! SEE YOU SOON!
BYE!
-GHOULIAFIED