One of the little perks for my Patreon subscribers is me posting my little snippet and story ideas here on Patreon a week prior to posting them on my SB Snippets thread. Here's my new plot bunny, the rare non-Tanya crossover! I think the crossover here is fairly obvious, if you've read the other IP. But let's see what people guess!
Chapter 1
The narrow windows let sunlight into the filled throne room. Much had finally been decided and one of King Robert’s first acts was to remove the heads of dragons and replace them with hunting tapestries. The effort was yet incomplete, so some walls remained bare. If any of the rich gathering of lords and ladies of the realm minded it, none would say. Today, much and more would be completed. Awards granted, lands stripped, and lands given.
Jon Arryn had urged the young king to be magnanimous in his victory. The lines of the map for the greater lords would stay the same, but that was not the case for some of the lesser lords. Ronald Connington would be little more than a landed knight as nearly all the Connington lands were given over to lords and knights who had rallied to Robert’s banner.
In some cases, Robert gave back some of what the Mad King had already taken. Orton Merryweather was restored to his castle, but his coffers were emptied and most of his lands kept to be distributed. Hoster Tully wished his pound of flesh and Jon saw little purpose in antagonizing the Freys, so instead allowed the Darry holdings and wealth to be diminished.
Here it comes. I believe he will not embarrass the crown, but I can tell he is still bitter.
Stannis Baratheon had managed to fend off the Tyrell host and endure a terrible siege. Jon had written them off as lost. He had prayed not for their survival, but that the siege would last long enough so that the Reach’s armies would not play a meaningful part toward the end of Robert’s Rebellion. Against all odds Stannis had held on. Then the man not yet twenty had raised an armada and taken Dragonstone. There were many lords and champions who deserved acclaim, Stannis one of the foremost of them.
Jon was not yet done with him. He needed someone to keep the Lords of the Narrow Sea in line and someone to rule over them from Dragonstone. Jon needed someone firm and unyielding to keep them from making mischief. Stannis had proven dutiful with a spine of castle-forged steel. He could think of no one better, but that also meant he would not be given Storm’s End.
Stannis had not taken the news well. In part, because Robert had half-jested that Stannis had ‘failed him’ for allowing the last of the royal family to escape. The king's younger brother took being passed over for the lordship of the Stormlands as a deliberate slight. Jon had argued that it was no such thing as Robert was well within his rights not to give him either Storm’s End or Dragonstone. He could appoint a castellan and have his own eventual second and third sons inherit those properties, but Stannis would not be moved. He called it a slight and would most like forever view it as a snub.
Dangerous, but my read on him is that he will do his duty, no matter his simmering contempt for Robert.
“My brothers survived a terrible siege,” Robert spoke as he shifted uncomfortably on his high seat. The Iron Throne was not a chair that allowed for one to take their ease and the king had been speaking for some time now, attending to the lesser lords and what they were gaining for their support against the Targaryens.
“In reward for my brother’s steadfastness he will be made my master of ships and be given the domain of Dragonstone. Prince Stannis, from this day forward, you and your heirs will be given the isle of Dragonstone and its incomes. The Lords of the Narrow Sea will be your vassals.”
Stannis kept his unfriendly face tight and unmoving as he bit out the words of acceptance.
It was Renly’s turn. The young, melancholy boy had put back on weight after the siege. At first, Jon feared the horrors of it had scarred him, but Robert claimed he was near always like that. Less angry than Stannis, more talkative, but far less carefree than most children.
“To my youngest brother, you will be given Storm’s End. Our family’s ancestral home. You will also be the Paramount Lord of the Stormlands. You are young, but Storm’s End will have a castellan appointed and a wise lord who will teach you your duties as you age.”
The boy shook his head.
“Since when does a younger brother inherit before the elder? Stannis did the impossible, such good works and honorable service deserve a more fitting award than Dragonstone. I refuse to accept this… boon when it means passing over our more deserving brother’s claim.”
Jon’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t thought he needed to talk to Renly, but perhaps he should have. There were just so many demands on his time and people to appease in these early days of Robert’s reign.
“What’s this?” Robert scowled. “I’m giving you Storm’s End, boy. Stannis is getting his own castle.”
“Dragonstone is no fitting reward for what he endured. He held Storm’s End; few could have done the same. Our home,” Renly said evenly, then added, “Your Grace.”
The crowd was murmuring now. Such a thing was unheard of, though it was still salvageable. Renly was just a boy, and while it would make for some fine jests, it was hardly a black mark on the crown’s reputation.
“Prince Renly, you are still young,” Jon spoke firmly, but without ire. “When you are older you will appreciate what your brother, the king, is doing for you.”
“I am to be raised to the heights before I have even done anything worthy of it. My brother has done all he has been asked of and you would take away his just reward. I ask again, do not honor me with something that should go to another.”
“Ungrateful, moody little shit, did Stannis put you up to this?” Robert growled. Jon did his best not to bury his face in his hands. Royal dignity seemed to be slipping through his fingers with alarming swiftness.
“No, of course not,” Renly said stoutly. The boy addressed his brother with a child’s confidence. No hesitation to speak out against the king’s decision. Jon understood that it was mostly due to Renly being safe as Robert’s brother, but the way he held himself made him think it was more than just that.
“Perhaps,” Jon spoke again, “in the interests of royal education, we discuss this matter further in a more private setting.”
Robert stood up. “Good enough for me, that fucking chair is damned uncomfortable!”
The dashing young hero, the new king, had a way of working people. Another king saying those words might be met with disdain or polite acknowledgement. Robert instead had the court laughing along with him.
Nothing would change regarding the disposition of Storm’s End and Dragonstone. The choice to have Stannis rule Dragonstone was the right one and Jon would make sure Robert didn’t do anything foolish.
***
Stannis Baratheon knew that he was being punished for allowing the last of the Targaryen line to escape Dragonstone. There had been nothing he could have done differently with the information and time he had been given, but that would never sway Robert. He had failed and was being punished. It was as clear as day, no matter Arryn’s honeyed words.
As high as honor, what a jape.
His humiliation was made plain for all to see. Stannis hadn’t heard any laughter when Robert passed his sentence, but he knew more than a few in the court mocked him under their breath. That was the way of it and Robert’s ilk.
Even a child could see the injustice!
Renly was only a boy, but a good lad. In the siege he had not complained a single time of what he had to eat, even when it was rats. The boy had even helped Maester Cressen when some of the smugglers had been injured during their daring passage through the blockade. In a different life, Renly might have chosen the path of the maester, even if he had initially acted in horror at the idea of learning how to read. Cressen had said that the boy was an able student and his insights to the workings of the body were not always correct, but they were remarkably accurate for one who only recently learned his letters.
His younger brother knew his duty and would rule well. Stannis vowed not to begrudge his younger siblings good fortune, even if it was at his expense. Renly, among everyone there, had the wherewithal to speak the truth to the king. Stannis knew it would still gnaw at him, eat him alive, but it was Robert’s doing, not Renly’s. It was not justice to blame anyone other than the one who was responsible.
These were his thoughts, but to his astonishment, Renly spoke in private just as passionately and powerfully as he had done in the throne room. He spoke in a manner beyond his years. It was not in the manner of silver-tongued courtiers, but in the blunt and direct manner that the Durrandon line had been known for. Stannis took savage satisfaction in Jon Arryn’s face twisting in horror as Robert finally agreed with young Renly.
Stannis felt a stirring inside of him that he could not quite place. Seeing Lord Tyrell strike his banners and surrender had echoed it, but it was something… something he couldn’t quite place. He was with the boy now, wondering just what he should say.
“Renly, what you have done… you do understand that as right as your choice to speak out was, it has now cost you. You will not inherit Storm’s End and one of great lordships of Westeros.”
“It was right to do, brother. You earned it, more than most lords could say of what they possess.”
Stannis wasn’t sure if he was making himself clear.
“Many men would not have done so. Yet you did. You are not simple, you understand what this has cost you, and yet you still did it.”
Renly looked at him with eyes that matched his own. “Yes, I did. And you would have done the same.”
Stannis gave a firm nod. He would have.
“What do you wish for your future?”
“Honestly… ah, in truth, I would like to learn arms like a squire. I would also like to continue my education with Maester Cressen. I don’t wish to take the vows of a maester, but I would not mind forging silver links someday. As for my service at Storm’s End, I’d like to one day teach other people how to fight and provide battlefield medicine. What good is a maester if he is far away when someone bleeds out?”
Stannis furrowed his brow. That was all well and good, but his younger brother was missing his point.
“What do you want ultimately? As a youth, you must naturally want to improve your talents, but what is your eventual desire?”
“You mean my destination? I suppose it is something to consider. Yet I think the journey is where a man earns what he hopes to find at its end. If I have earned something from my service, my deeds, then if you wish to grant me larger responsibilities, I will consider it. But if I haven’t earned it, then so be it.”
Stannis let a rare smile fill his features.
If only all men understood duty as Renly did.