283 AC – King's Landing: the Vipers Nest
The Red Keep was just as imposing as I, vaguely, recalled it was. Priceless pieces of decorations lined every wall. Great tapestries every you looked and the dragon motif was something you couldn't get away from. I'd left my men, put Orys in charge of them, and sent them off to find succor with the Red Keep's guards. I sincerely doubted anyone would give them a hard time.
Renly, Maester Cressen, and myself were taken by some nameless servant straight to Robert. I didn't forget his name out of some sort of deranged noble pride but I'd been too busy gawking at the decorations to pay any attention to him. Soon we'd walked over Robert's private chambers and found Ser Jaime Lannister on the guarding the massive doors.
As I didn't particularly want to deal with the man I mildly smiled at him, unbuckled my sword and threw it over at him a little too high, and watched him fumble the catch. With him distracted I didn't bother slowing down and walked through the doors without so much as a knock. The outer private rooms of the King were just as magnificent as the rest of the Red Keep. All opulence, decadence and more than a little bit of haughty posturing.
Robert was, oddly enough alone, and turned around at the sound of us barging through his doors. Renly did just as instructed and ran straight into Robert. The big burly man was, if at all possible, even bigger than Stannis remembered. Startling, but currently rather shocked, blue eyes were framed by dark Baratheon locks of hair. My brother had a massive frame, all around, and I couldn't help but think how out of place he looked with a small child hanging on to him.
"Robert!"
"Ah, there's the little bugger. I hear Stannis took good care of you."
"Yes! He's sometimes tough but he's the best!"
"Oh, is he now!", and then Renly screamed in delight as Robert swung him around for a few moments before the giant turned his attention to me.
"There you are, Stannis!"
"Good morning, Robert."
He looked a little past me and continued, "And you brought Maester Cressen! You're a sight for sore eyes, old man! Come here!"
I nodded at Robert and stood aside for Cressen. The man stammered out a reply but even Robert was hardhearted enough make the man who taught him how to read kneel for him. From what Stannis recalls...that took quite some doing.
"Sit, sit, all of you."
We gathered around one his hardwood tabled, sat down in delightfully comfortable chairs, and suffered some loss of hearing when Robert loudly yelled for wine. Not to be outdone I added my own touch to the order.
"And beer! Whoever Robert is yelling to! Lots and lots of beer!"
So far so good. The first few minutes were slightly tense with Robert asking questions and demanding answers. Especially concerning bits that I'd rather not have dragged up. Cressen heroically managed to distract him for a little while reminiscing on the past but eventually Robert turned back to me.
"So this business with you capturing Mace, Stannis. I've heard they story, lets hear yours!"
I was keenly aware of all three's intent gazing at me as I cleared my throat, "Do you want to hear what really happened? Or what I'll make sure the realm hears all about?"
Robert looked at me funny but snorted before he said, "Lets have both."
I nodded at the burly man and said, "Alright. We were starving, almost ran out of rats to eat, so I fabricated a situation where I could grab the Fat Flower."
I smiled a little wider when I continued, "I thought I could make his men send me supplies if they didn't want their Lord to starve along side us."
The King looked a little apprehensive, perhaps even a touch sympathetic, so I barreled through, "It didn't work out that way. I made a distraction happen, threw a net over Mace, and dragged him behind my horse."
Now Robert just laughed, and laughed, with even Cressen having a small smile on his face.
"Oh, what a sight that must have been."
I frowned a little bit before I replied, "One his men reacted quickly and cut the line dragging Mace. So I had to turn my horse around and charge his would-be rescuers." For dramatic purpose I fell silent for a few heartbeats, "I was outnumbered but I kept them off the Fat Flower long enough for my men to counter charge and my artillery to disperse the Tyrell guards."
The word came out before I consciously considered it.
"Artillery?"
Oh, crap.
I just smiled wider, "A nickname, never mind it. I'm talking about the massively oversized-." What was the word they used for ballistae again? Oh yeah, "-scorpions I placed over the gates and the on the walls."
"What kind of shite nickname is that?"
I simply shrugged.
"Whats the other fancy interpretation of yours then?"
This is it.
"Dirty, dirty treason from the Hightowers. It was all a ploy you see... to leave their Lord Paramount, with his litter of half Hightower children, to the not so tender mercies of starving Stormlords."
This got the big burly King laughing again. I sent off a silent prayer to whatever deity was in my corner and waited for Robert to make another move.
Another loud snort, "A likely story, Stannis."
I shrugged again, "Then why did the Hightowers throw Tyrell levy after Tyrell levy at our walls? The dead stacked up high beneath the heavy walls of Storm's End, brother, but only after we took Mace."
I flashed my eyebrows at him, raising them up and down twice, before continuing, "Curiously they stopped attacking right after we sallied out and grabbed ourselves a handful of their precious Hightower lordlings."
Maybe it was just me but I still found that hilarious. I started laughing on my own but soon my drinking buddies, even little Renly – you can't exactly call Robert a beacon of responsibility -, joined in and I didn't feel so weird. After another few moments the King told Cressen to set up somewhere, and find Renly his own rooms, and I decided not to mentioned I'd prefer to keep the little bugger close. There weren't any real threats out against and maybe I was growing paranoid but this is King's Landing. Once they left Robert brought out, or more correctly yelled for more booze, and we started drinking in earnest.
In a booming voice Robert bit out, "You can't be serious, Stannis! Match me drink for drink! You look like you'll collapse if I poke you too hard!"
Wow, way to be sensitive to the brother who starved himself for you. God damn, it was getting clearer and clearer that I would have to do a lot of swallowing my feelings. I kept the dismay clear from my expression and just flatly stared at him.
I shrugged and said, "Less talk, more drink, big man. We'll see who passes out under the table, first."
Another loud booming laugh before he replied, "Good gods, Stannis. Time was that you would have puckered up and nursed your wounded pride. You always were a little prickly."
Again I shrugged, it felt like I was doing nothing but, and bit out, "I grew out of it, I guess. Somewhere around the time I learned something important about myself."
Robert took a deep fucking gulp, I matched him with an equally deep sip of beer, and he said, "What would that be?"
I waited deliberately for him to take another deep gulp before I replied, "That I'm apparently really fucking good at killing."
I was well rewarded. Robert snorted loudly, wine sprayed around everywhere, and the man started hiccuping as he attempted to laugh. The rest of the night went pretty well, from what I can vaguely remember, and I thought that things might just all work out in the end. We swapped war stories, where I acted remarkably impressed by his victories, and Robert in turn grudgingly admitted that turning away sixty thousand men wasn't all that bad.
Good times.
283 AC – King's Landing: the Vipers Nest
The next morning I woke up, with my sword on my chest, in an utterly luxurious room. My head felt like it was on the verge of exploding and I really only had myself to blame. And Robert. Him I blamed out of sheer spite. I took a long moment to compose myself, shuffled over to the door and stuck my head out, and yelled for someone to attend to me.
Normally I'm not this entitled but I felt like I was wading through exceptionally thick mud while my face was stuffed with cotton. Everything was muted, or the opposite whenever my hangover felt like fucking with me, and I desperately gulped down the water next to my bed. I shouldn't have mixed beer and wine.
Two knocks at the door.
"Come in."
A serving lady appeared and asked me what I wanted.
"Some hair of the dog, women. And eggs."
I tried to fall back asleep but the serving lady didn't leave my room, "I'm sorry, m'lord, but do you want me to shave a dog for you?"
What? Didn't they have that saying here?
I mumbled, "Just get me a flagon of wine, girl. And hurry it along."
A little over an hour later I felt much better as I was summoned by Jon Arryn. The Hand of the King wanted me to come see him in his shiny tower. His small pageboy, I really should inquire into his name later, assured me he'd wait around for me as I got dressed. This only after I, loudly and perhaps slightly too curtly, told him that I didn't need his help putting on pants. I took a few minutes to finish getting dressed and followed the lad over to the Tower of the Hand.
We walked passed Ser Jaime, I nodded at him, and the man bit out, "Are you going to throw another sword at me, Lord Stannis?"
I couldn't contain my sort, "Nah, not today, Ser Jaime. Perhaps I'll come looking for you later."
I probably shouldn't poke at one of the most, personally, dangerous men in Westeros but I couldn't help it. The man was just too pretty and I wasn't taking it very well. I shook off my shameful thoughts when I reached the Hand's Office and was told by the page I could walk right in.
"Ah, Lord Stannis. I wanted to come see you but you've been locked in with Robert all night."
I tried to muster a smile but probably didn't succeed all that well.
"I see that he's kept you...busy." The Old Falcon shrugged and said, "Fair enough, you've been separated for quite a while."
"It was quite something indeed. Where does Robert keep all that drink?"
Jon's eyes glittered with mirth when he replied, "Our august King has many talents, Stannis."
Which was probably polite for; a drunkard on the throne isn't the worst thing in the world. Perhaps I was being too uncharitable. Either way...I was curious why the man called for me.
Lord Arryn cleared his throat and said, "I called for you, my boy, because I'd like to go over a few concerns with you."
Was I his boy now? Was this a transparent ploy or did Arryn really think that because he raised Robert he has a claim, however small, on me? Should I just smile and politely move along?
Or was he trying to infantilize me?
I was too hungover for this shit.
The Lord Hand continued, "Your accomplishments were impressive enough, Stannis but there were some concerns that your measures have not gone far enough."
Oh.
Was this bad or good?
"Don't look so worried, my boy. It was nothing we couldn't fix. We've had contact with Highgarden via raven and hammered out some additional terms. Getting the Tyrells a stake in the stability of the kingdom was well done, Stannis. Leaving them their Lord Paramount-ship was to be expected but we arranged for you to carry the responsibilities of Warden of the South."
Oh, shit. I read that but the implications didn't hit me properly. That was...traditionally a Tyrell position.
I just nodded but some of my confusion must have leaked through as Arryn elaborated, "The Warden of the South is responsible for maintaining order in the Soutern most realms, Stannis. In times of peace the Princes of Dorne, the Lords of the Reach and the Lords of the Stormlands can all call on you to arbitrate their grievances. In times of war you ensure our southernmost coast lines are secure from foreign invasion."
The man stared at me pointedly, "In civil wars the title means virtually nothing."
That...made a lot of sense.
"Alright, I'll have more questions later, my Lord Arryn. Was there something else as well?"
The old man smiled widely and replied, "Oh, do call me Jon. And you're right. There are some other issues. Robert was...most put out when he heard of the attempt on Renly's life. I tried to sway him from this course but he seems rather set."
Oh, god. What was coming now?
The Old Falcon got up, moved to the large but slightly damaged map of Westeros on the wall, and gestured for me to follow him. I got up, braved the slight dizziness, and attempted to focus on where he pointed.
"Robert feels the Reach, if not the Tyrells personally, should be somewhat diminished. He intends to annex several key Reach territories that would be brought over under Crownland authority. Starting from the very lowest point off to Silverhill down to just off Fawnton will be loudly, and insistently, asked to come swear fealty in King's Landing. While I thought that would have been harsh enough Robert insisted you should be allowed a piece of the proverbial...spoils."
Was it my hangover talking or did this sound really good.
Arryn coughed and drew a line on the map. I struggled to contain my rush euphoria and it's company dizzying nausea. He was giving me a spectacularslice of the Reach. The area starting from just under Bitterbridge, containing Longtable, Grassy Vale, and Ashford. Oddly Jon drew the line at Cider Hall which would remain firmly in the Reach. It stood across the point where two rivers met and was thus the largest city in that entire area.
Huh.
Something was off here but I couldn't twig to it.
Slightly warily I asked, "That sounds like a...great deal of annexxing."
Jon raised an eyebrow, "Are you implying you're not up to this?"
God damn it. He's pushing my buttons. I know he's pushing my buttons but its still working. I tried to focus on the issue. Arryn was fusing a large section of the Reach, around a fifth if I guessed right, on to the Crownlands and my own Stormlands. He seems oddly insistent I take up this vast bounty.
What am I missing?
All I could think to do was push back.
I narrowed my eyes at him, a stab of pain lanced through my mind, and I bit out, "I want full rights to exploit the King's Wood."
Now Jon narrowed his eyes as well, "Son, you're already getting a lot. You may be His Grace's brother but you can't have everything you desire."
I stayed quiet, for a given value of quiet with the ruckus in my head, waiting him out. I walked back to the chair, picked up a glass of water on the way, and slowly sipped from it. From the corner of my eye I could feel Arryn staring at me but I paid him no mind.
Either something was happening or I was being paranoid and looking an exceptionally valuable gift horse in the mouth. If he bends now I'm definitely right though. There's some fuckery afoot.
Or...
I'm being an ungrateful little shit. Eh, I'll blame it on the hangover. Moments stretched long before Arryn sighed deeply, "Fine, Lord Stannis. You've insisted on pushing an old man around. Congratulations. I'm sure you're making Robert all kinds of proud."
What.
He broke.
No. This was Jon Arryn. The man who glued Westeros back together. I was right. I'm being fucked and I can't see how. I caught Jon's gaze and stared intently at the man. I could perceive...nothing.
Crap.
Fuck this, lets try another push. What's he gonna do me, realistically, if I overstep my bounds?
I narrowed my eyes at the old man, suffered through another streak of pain but bravely surpressed the flinch, and softly said, "And I want Royal assistance to tie these new communities together with roads." He wasn't growing red, didn't flinch, and gave pretty much nothing away in the heartbeat I fell silent. I immediately continued, "And of course funds for repairing Storm's End for the damage done by the Flowers."
Ah, there was a tick.
All this and I still didn't know what was happening. I needed to get out. I didn't wait for a reply, downed the rest of the water, and walked out of the room.
Arryn didn't call me back.
Yep, I was somehow getting fucked.
Welcome to King's Landing. Here...have an obviously poisoned gift you're too stupid to refuse.
AN: Feedback and commentary is appreciated.
