The Stepstones

                                    

                                          
The morning dawned, grey and tepid, but the rain had ceased, to Rhaenyra's relief. She dressed in her riding leathers, securing her hair in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. 
When she emerged from the guest chambers, she found Storm's End bustling and loud as she made her way down to the Round Hall. Ser Harwin located her almost immediately, shadowing her every step, and then leaning against the wall as she made for the great table to break her fast. The Round Hall had been filled with tables to accommodate as many men as possible, but many of them were still left leaning against the walls or seated on the floor. 
The hall was full of conversation and laughter, to her surprise. It seemed strange to the princess, as she watched the soldiers prepare, that most of the men were excited at the prospect of battle, while she felt a nervous wreck. What was it about war that pleased men so? Rhaenyra watched Lord Boremund give his son a pointed look, and Borros approached Rhaenyra, looking thoroughly chastised.
"Princess, I must apologize for my behavior last night. I am not entirely familiar with the politics of the crown, but we would like you to know that Storm's End and House Baratheon will always stand behind you." The speech sounded rehearsed to her ears, but she could not fault him for it. Instead of voicing her theory, Rhaenyra simply nodded and offered him a gracious smile. 
"Thank you, Lord Borros. We are eternally grateful for your family's support."
"If it please you, princess, I would travel with your party to The Stepstones. I wish to fully prove our support to your cause." Borros added.
"While that is not entirely necessary, I'm sure we need every man we can spare," she replied, dipping her head. "We're thankful to have you with us." She looked to Daemon, and he nodded at her encouragingly. Without another word, the princess tucked into her breakfast and observed the preparations happening around her.
"Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra called out for her knight to join her side, and he knelt down next to her chair. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly.
"Me, princess? I could ask you the same." Harwin answered with a small smirk.
"Nervous, to be perfectly honest." she replied softly, grimacing. "What if the men don't want to listen to my ideas?" she asked, gnawing on her bottom lip. Harwin smiled at her and shook his head.
"Princess, you have a good heart. I heard the way you spoke at the small council. You're passionate about what you believe in, and these men are lucky to follow you. Believe in yourself and speak with your heart and you will undoubtedly have their ears, and their swords." She gave him a watery smile, feeling much comforted by his words.
"Thank you, Ser Harwin," she said softly. After a long, comfortable meal, Rhaenyra agreed to accompany Laenor and Daemon down the coast to the harbor in order to see the men off. Lord Boremund embraced his son, informing him that he was proud of his decision and that he would be even more pleased when his Borros returned from his fist battle, hopefully unharmed. The scene made Rhaenyra's heart ache as she thought of her own father, hoping he was proud of her as well. She knew she hadn't been the easiest child to raise, but she always longed for her father's approval.
Ser Harwin bid the princess goodbye and swore to find her in the camp as soon as the fleet anchored. Rhaenyra, Daemon and Laenor would fly ahead and join Lord Vaemond and his men on Dwarfstone. The princess gripped Lord Boremund by the hands, thanking him for his assistance and support as he reminded her she was always welcome in his hall. Rhaenyra climbed up onto Syrax's wing and secured herself to the saddle, glancing at her husband. He nodded his head encouragingly at her and she gave him a weak smile, her nerves knotting like tangled vines in her stomach. As Syrax lifted off, the dust and pollen swirled around them, and Storm's End was quickly put out of view...