Chapter 1.01
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods
Reluctantly I had to admire the way Mace handled his in-laws. I knew it couldn't be easy having to deal overly powerful vassals that had wormed their way into your family. The Hightowers were too wealthy, influential and just too god damned strong to oppose openly.
Mace was milking the circumstances for all he was worth.
"Has the wealth of Oldtown been suddenly depleted, Garth? I knew my good-father likes to spend his coin like water, even when he's best served doing otherwise, but this is certainly a surprise."
"No! Of course-."
With a terrifyingly wide grin Mace interrupted him, "Excellent! Then stop haggling like an jumped up merchant and honor your debts, Garth."
"My Lord, I-."
Again Mace simply interrupted him, "Besides, it's not as if your men have such pressing need for their armor. Or would you like to champion their cause? Should we discuss this further, Garth?"
Hmm.
Perhaps Mace would, indeed, make a half way decent brother-in-law. Lord Randyll was quiet, weirdly amused by the situation, but utterly silent. I couldn't quite guess at his feelings on the matter. He bent the knee just fine but perhaps he was harboring some latent anger.
I found I didn't much care.
The back and forth, or more like Mace simply dumping on Garth, continued for a short while. Eventually it was settled that I would, in fact, be receiving the four thousand armor plates I'd requested. My future brother-in-law had no issue making the Hightowers pay through the nose. I'm sure that the fact their men would have to march home, with Mace's own retinue, completely unprotected might have had something to do with it as well.
Eventually, though, the subject was changed.
"What of my brother, my Lord? What of Ser Cupps and their men?"
Mace shrugged, he shrugged, and walked away. Over his shoulders the man called out, "I'm certain Lord Stannis will set a fair ransom. The sooner Leyton pays, the sooner you have your boy back."
If I wasn't careful I might actually like Mace.
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods
The sounds thousands of relieved and intensely merry men and women feasting in Storm's End courtyard was like the sweetest music to my ears. Just yesterday I had accepted Lord Mace Tyrell's submission, twice. Once in this very courtyard, where I had him kneel to me in front of all my men, and once again in front of his men. That second time he only bowed and presented his sword to me. That sword was mine until the wedding, when I hand it right back to the Flower.
I thought I'd feel something more than relief. Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mine I hoped to experience this 'glory' everyone kept talking about. As far as I was concerned it was a triumph, one worth celebrating to be sure, but just a triumph nonetheless. I was mostly just happy that people had stopped dying.
And eating fresh fruit was amazing.
Orys Bollin staggered over to me, "Cousin! I must know! Did you plan all of this!"
Wow, he almost sounds accusingly. What has gotten into him? Before I could ask for him to elaborate the lad continued unprompted, "This! All of this! Ever since we grabbed the Fat Flower! Did you know it would end like this?"
Oh.
As much as I'd like to take credit for that...it would only backfire on me. I had no intention of being known as a political genius. Mostly because I really, really, wasn't. Mace went along with my plans because it was prudent for him to do so. I can deal with prudent men. What happens the first time I need some foppish lord with more guts than brains on my side? Quietly I resolved to spend as much time as I could observing the Old Falcon. If Arryn actually lets me accompany him into important meetings.
"Orys?"
The drunk lordling had some trouble focusing but eventually I sensed I had his full attention again, "Orys?"
"Yes?"
But nobody ever said you can't mess with your drunk cousins. I'd just have to make sure to catch him again when he's sober.
I flash him a small grin and said, "If I did, cousin, would I want you asking that of me? In public no less?"
I realized I might have fucked up when all the color drained from his face. When Orys attempted to stammer an incoherent excuse I just put another wine flagon in his hands. It took some doing but eventually he settled down. Feeling a little bad I made my way through the throngs of party-goers. Everyone had a smile, a pat on the back, or just a distant nod for me. I thoroughly enjoyed their lighthearted and joyous spirits.
This.
This was what taking Mace's surrender should have felt like. A thick cloak of your troops adoration that warms you straight down to your core.
For the first time in months I felt like I could truly relax.
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods
Ser Balon Swann's eyes nearly boggled out of his head. The stupefied man repeated my question at least twice before he thought to answer it.
"It is most unorthodox, my Lord. However, I do not see any barriers to it."
Fair enough. I could live with being called strange. I felt it was important I properly honored everyone in my retinue. It wasn't just so I'd develop a reputation of being a good boss either. These people here, who went through hell with me, deserve everything I can give them.
Fuck whoever thinks they can talk me out of it.
"And what do you think, Ser Balon?"
The knight took a moment to compose himself before he answered, "I cannot, in good conscience, deny their bravery. They all fought well and hard, my Lord. Without them we would not have turned the tides of battle in our favor."
Another short moment of silence followed before he continued, "I have no objections to this. Men might question me on this but they would have to cut me down before I repudiate them!"
All I could do was smile. I had hoped for his cooperation, even if grudgingly given, but this was far above and beyond what I expected.
I nodded at the knight and just as I walked away I heard him call out, "At least we can outfit the lot of them, my Lord!"
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods.
An adorably scrunched up face stared at me, defiantly. Renly was not pleased when I told him it was time for the little lad to go to sleep. His arguments that the siege was over and he deserved to cut loose with the others did little to convince me.
"But I want to go back to the feast!"
I sat down on his bed, scooted him over to the side, and told him, "I understand, Renly. It does look like a lot of fun, doesn't it?"
Oh, this must not be going the way he expected it to. His expression cycled through confusion and wariness but I doubted he'd see the verbal trap I was weaving for him. Or was it called a lesson when you were helping people?
"Yes, very!"
I smiled at the little bugger and said, "Tell me why they're feasting, Renly. Tell me why I broke open our ancient casks of wine. Tell me why I let them chew through a full tenth of the supplies Tyrell left us?"
His reply came quickly, "Because we won!"
"Exactly. We won, Renly. The men, and lets not forget the women either, have fought hard for us. They killed for us, they starved for us, and now they deserve everything we can give them, little brother."
He still didn't see it.
"Including a feast among themselves without their little lord's eyes on them. I'm also staying here with you, Renly."
"Oh-."
It's hard to keep in mind he's only seven. It's been so long since my own siblings were this tiny. I'd just spell it out for him.
I interrupted him, "Tomorrow we'll feast with them, little brother. Tonight is their night. Let them feast with abandon and without worries they're making fools of themselves in front of their lords."
Renly seemed to consider that for a good long while before slowly, almost reluctantly, nodding.
"Alright."
Good boy.
A short moment passed before he went on, "Will you finish the story, please?"
I couldn't keep in the laugh that bubbled up, "Oh Renly, the story is nowhere near its end! Hmm, where were we..."
I pretended to trail off forgetfully and Renly took the bait, "Ser Harry the Wizard Knight just raised the bones of a Dragon to fight off the horde of Others and their wicked Masters!"
I deliberately ignored the chambermaid, who was supposed to clear all the candles, slowly meandering our way. Before long she'd be daring enough to sit down and listen. I didn't mind and Renly always enjoyed that.
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods
I quietly sat down next to Maester Cressen. I hadn't seen all that much of him over the past few weeks. The man had been toiling over all the wounded and desperately attempting to keep them alive. Now that there weren't any more patients coming into his improvised hospital wing he could afford taking some rest.
I spoke up first, "I'm glad you fared well through this ordeal, Cressen. I don't know what we would have done without your help."
The old man, who wasn't actually that old – Stannis' perceptions were leaking through -, sighed softly but with a small smile on his face.
"I thank you for your kind words, m-Stannis, but you don't have to flatter me. I wasn't the most important man in the siege, my Lord."
The poor man still couldn't bring himself to consistently call me Stannis. Unlike the previous owner of this body I didn't quite feel a need for an abiding distance between myself...and everyone who works for me. I had adapted to this world well enough but when every meeting with this man sets off waves of happy childhood memories, even if they aren't really mine, I couldn't feel comfortable with him sprouting off lordly honors.
Cressen continued, "Have you read the letters? I would like to send them out as soon as possible, m-Stannis."
I had read them just after I'd received the deliveries of armor, and food supplies, and made sure to tail the Tyrells out of the immediate Storms End lands. I had asked the kindly Maester to formulate two letters for me. One to Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, and another to my 'brother', Bobby B.
The one for Robert was a simple letter highlighting the events of the past months. I'd asked Cressen to include a few words from Renly and to express my wishes to see Robert at his convenience. I asked Bobby if he was familiar with the battle madness, as Orys had described it, that came over me. More than anything I was worried something would set it off again. And next time I might not have such well trained troops covering my ass.
I needed his advice.
The other letter was less personal but no less important. I detailed my plans, and reasoning, to the Old Falcon. All I could do was hope that the man would ratify my decisions. As far as he was aware...Mace had capitulated to me before word came about the conclusion of the war. If all went well...he should be suitably impressed and eager to welcome Mace into the fold.
On the other hand...when have things ever truly gone well in this world?
"I have, Cressen. Is there anything we should add? If my scheme falls through...I don't rightly know how to proceed from there. What if it all goes wrong?"
Cressen laughed softly and said, "I'd venture you find a way, Stannis. It is, however, good to see that some of the wonderful young man I knew hasn't been completely chewed up by this dreadful war."
That was a compliment right?
I'm taking it as a compliment.
AN: A breather chapter! Next update; Ned's arrival at Storms End.
Reluctantly I had to admire the way Mace handled his in-laws. I knew it couldn't be easy having to deal overly powerful vassals that had wormed their way into your family. The Hightowers were too wealthy, influential and just too god damned strong to oppose openly.
Mace was milking the circumstances for all he was worth.
"Has the wealth of Oldtown been suddenly depleted, Garth? I knew my good-father likes to spend his coin like water, even when he's best served doing otherwise, but this is certainly a surprise."
"No! Of course-."
With a terrifyingly wide grin Mace interrupted him, "Excellent! Then stop haggling like an jumped up merchant and honor your debts, Garth."
"My Lord, I-."
Again Mace simply interrupted him, "Besides, it's not as if your men have such pressing need for their armor. Or would you like to champion their cause? Should we discuss this further, Garth?"
Hmm.
Perhaps Mace would, indeed, make a half way decent brother-in-law. Lord Randyll was quiet, weirdly amused by the situation, but utterly silent. I couldn't quite guess at his feelings on the matter. He bent the knee just fine but perhaps he was harboring some latent anger.
I found I didn't much care.
The back and forth, or more like Mace simply dumping on Garth, continued for a short while. Eventually it was settled that I would, in fact, be receiving the four thousand armor plates I'd requested. My future brother-in-law had no issue making the Hightowers pay through the nose. I'm sure that the fact their men would have to march home, with Mace's own retinue, completely unprotected might have had something to do with it as well.
Eventually, though, the subject was changed.
"What of my brother, my Lord? What of Ser Cupps and their men?"
Mace shrugged, he shrugged, and walked away. Over his shoulders the man called out, "I'm certain Lord Stannis will set a fair ransom. The sooner Leyton pays, the sooner you have your boy back."
If I wasn't careful I might actually like Mace.
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods
The sounds thousands of relieved and intensely merry men and women feasting in Storm's End courtyard was like the sweetest music to my ears. Just yesterday I had accepted Lord Mace Tyrell's submission, twice. Once in this very courtyard, where I had him kneel to me in front of all my men, and once again in front of his men. That second time he only bowed and presented his sword to me. That sword was mine until the wedding, when I hand it right back to the Flower.
I thought I'd feel something more than relief. Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mine I hoped to experience this 'glory' everyone kept talking about. As far as I was concerned it was a triumph, one worth celebrating to be sure, but just a triumph nonetheless. I was mostly just happy that people had stopped dying.
And eating fresh fruit was amazing.
Orys Bollin staggered over to me, "Cousin! I must know! Did you plan all of this!"
Wow, he almost sounds accusingly. What has gotten into him? Before I could ask for him to elaborate the lad continued unprompted, "This! All of this! Ever since we grabbed the Fat Flower! Did you know it would end like this?"
Oh.
As much as I'd like to take credit for that...it would only backfire on me. I had no intention of being known as a political genius. Mostly because I really, really, wasn't. Mace went along with my plans because it was prudent for him to do so. I can deal with prudent men. What happens the first time I need some foppish lord with more guts than brains on my side? Quietly I resolved to spend as much time as I could observing the Old Falcon. If Arryn actually lets me accompany him into important meetings.
"Orys?"
The drunk lordling had some trouble focusing but eventually I sensed I had his full attention again, "Orys?"
"Yes?"
But nobody ever said you can't mess with your drunk cousins. I'd just have to make sure to catch him again when he's sober.
I flash him a small grin and said, "If I did, cousin, would I want you asking that of me? In public no less?"
I realized I might have fucked up when all the color drained from his face. When Orys attempted to stammer an incoherent excuse I just put another wine flagon in his hands. It took some doing but eventually he settled down. Feeling a little bad I made my way through the throngs of party-goers. Everyone had a smile, a pat on the back, or just a distant nod for me. I thoroughly enjoyed their lighthearted and joyous spirits.
This.
This was what taking Mace's surrender should have felt like. A thick cloak of your troops adoration that warms you straight down to your core.
For the first time in months I felt like I could truly relax.
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods
Ser Balon Swann's eyes nearly boggled out of his head. The stupefied man repeated my question at least twice before he thought to answer it.
"It is most unorthodox, my Lord. However, I do not see any barriers to it."
Fair enough. I could live with being called strange. I felt it was important I properly honored everyone in my retinue. It wasn't just so I'd develop a reputation of being a good boss either. These people here, who went through hell with me, deserve everything I can give them.
Fuck whoever thinks they can talk me out of it.
"And what do you think, Ser Balon?"
The knight took a moment to compose himself before he answered, "I cannot, in good conscience, deny their bravery. They all fought well and hard, my Lord. Without them we would not have turned the tides of battle in our favor."
Another short moment of silence followed before he continued, "I have no objections to this. Men might question me on this but they would have to cut me down before I repudiate them!"
All I could do was smile. I had hoped for his cooperation, even if grudgingly given, but this was far above and beyond what I expected.
I nodded at the knight and just as I walked away I heard him call out, "At least we can outfit the lot of them, my Lord!"
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods.
An adorably scrunched up face stared at me, defiantly. Renly was not pleased when I told him it was time for the little lad to go to sleep. His arguments that the siege was over and he deserved to cut loose with the others did little to convince me.
"But I want to go back to the feast!"
I sat down on his bed, scooted him over to the side, and told him, "I understand, Renly. It does look like a lot of fun, doesn't it?"
Oh, this must not be going the way he expected it to. His expression cycled through confusion and wariness but I doubted he'd see the verbal trap I was weaving for him. Or was it called a lesson when you were helping people?
"Yes, very!"
I smiled at the little bugger and said, "Tell me why they're feasting, Renly. Tell me why I broke open our ancient casks of wine. Tell me why I let them chew through a full tenth of the supplies Tyrell left us?"
His reply came quickly, "Because we won!"
"Exactly. We won, Renly. The men, and lets not forget the women either, have fought hard for us. They killed for us, they starved for us, and now they deserve everything we can give them, little brother."
He still didn't see it.
"Including a feast among themselves without their little lord's eyes on them. I'm also staying here with you, Renly."
"Oh-."
It's hard to keep in mind he's only seven. It's been so long since my own siblings were this tiny. I'd just spell it out for him.
I interrupted him, "Tomorrow we'll feast with them, little brother. Tonight is their night. Let them feast with abandon and without worries they're making fools of themselves in front of their lords."
Renly seemed to consider that for a good long while before slowly, almost reluctantly, nodding.
"Alright."
Good boy.
A short moment passed before he went on, "Will you finish the story, please?"
I couldn't keep in the laugh that bubbled up, "Oh Renly, the story is nowhere near its end! Hmm, where were we..."
I pretended to trail off forgetfully and Renly took the bait, "Ser Harry the Wizard Knight just raised the bones of a Dragon to fight off the horde of Others and their wicked Masters!"
I deliberately ignored the chambermaid, who was supposed to clear all the candles, slowly meandering our way. Before long she'd be daring enough to sit down and listen. I didn't mind and Renly always enjoyed that.
283 AC – Feasts & Knighthoods
I quietly sat down next to Maester Cressen. I hadn't seen all that much of him over the past few weeks. The man had been toiling over all the wounded and desperately attempting to keep them alive. Now that there weren't any more patients coming into his improvised hospital wing he could afford taking some rest.
I spoke up first, "I'm glad you fared well through this ordeal, Cressen. I don't know what we would have done without your help."
The old man, who wasn't actually that old – Stannis' perceptions were leaking through -, sighed softly but with a small smile on his face.
"I thank you for your kind words, m-Stannis, but you don't have to flatter me. I wasn't the most important man in the siege, my Lord."
The poor man still couldn't bring himself to consistently call me Stannis. Unlike the previous owner of this body I didn't quite feel a need for an abiding distance between myself...and everyone who works for me. I had adapted to this world well enough but when every meeting with this man sets off waves of happy childhood memories, even if they aren't really mine, I couldn't feel comfortable with him sprouting off lordly honors.
Cressen continued, "Have you read the letters? I would like to send them out as soon as possible, m-Stannis."
I had read them just after I'd received the deliveries of armor, and food supplies, and made sure to tail the Tyrells out of the immediate Storms End lands. I had asked the kindly Maester to formulate two letters for me. One to Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, and another to my 'brother', Bobby B.
The one for Robert was a simple letter highlighting the events of the past months. I'd asked Cressen to include a few words from Renly and to express my wishes to see Robert at his convenience. I asked Bobby if he was familiar with the battle madness, as Orys had described it, that came over me. More than anything I was worried something would set it off again. And next time I might not have such well trained troops covering my ass.
I needed his advice.
The other letter was less personal but no less important. I detailed my plans, and reasoning, to the Old Falcon. All I could do was hope that the man would ratify my decisions. As far as he was aware...Mace had capitulated to me before word came about the conclusion of the war. If all went well...he should be suitably impressed and eager to welcome Mace into the fold.
On the other hand...when have things ever truly gone well in this world?
"I have, Cressen. Is there anything we should add? If my scheme falls through...I don't rightly know how to proceed from there. What if it all goes wrong?"
Cressen laughed softly and said, "I'd venture you find a way, Stannis. It is, however, good to see that some of the wonderful young man I knew hasn't been completely chewed up by this dreadful war."
That was a compliment right?
I'm taking it as a compliment.
AN: A breather chapter! Next update; Ned's arrival at Storms End.
