First Author's Notes: I am sorry, I fu**ed it up... I mistakenly posted this under a new login (I dot know how, some computer mystery), and as I wanted to include this with all my other fics, I simply had to remove the old and post again... So apologies for the mess! I try to be more careful in the future!
Second Author's Notes: And now for something slightly different… After finishing my latest work, I found myself soon enough wanting to write and for a chance requested for prompts in Tumblr (where my blog is .com). My request consisted of three things: 1) THEME (atmosphere, place, event, emotion - eg. 'comfort', 'battlefield', 'first moonblood', 'jealousy' etc); 2) OBJECT (any concrete object or thing, eg. 'candle', 'dagger', 'puppy' etc); and 3) CHARACTER(S) from ASOIAF (sansan or others, to stretch my writing).
The first prompt I received was from Anonymous as "Stannis/Sansa "Old Wounds" Loofa. And it caught my attention and I started to write…
Stannis had to duck to avoid being hit in the head by a load of planks carried on the shoulders of a builder, both navigating their way to the opposing directions through the corridors of Red Keep. He took no umbrage at the hapless man though - everyone was busy and the keep was seething activity; men going here and there, carrying things, running errands, shouting, arguing, trying to clean the mess left by the battle.
Yet the overarching impression was order – with a touch of chaos perhaps, but order just the same. And he liked it that way. Stannis was not the kind of war leader who let his men run amok among the conquered. The battle was one thing and ferociousness and mercilessness were to be expected during one, but after it was over, it was time for law and order to return.
Ser Davos Seaworth walked by his side, also ducking and weaving to keep up the pace with his king. They were on their way towards the throne room, where Stannis had called the key members of his council to gather on that first day of his rule.
Stannis of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.
Stannis was not a vain man, but he appreciated the sound of that. Not that it mattered what he thought of it – the kingship was his by law and it was his duty, whether he liked it or not.
Stepping swiftly aside to avoid a crash with two men carrying a trunk between them, Stannis scratched his jaw. The battle had been bloody and prolonged as he had known, and at the end of it when his men had finally secured the keep and the city, he had been so fatigued that he had fallen into his bed still clad in his battle gear and had slept soundless sleep until the morning. And then it had been time only for a quick change of clothes, no time for a shave, and now the new growth was making his neck itch.
Better to put that down just as one more inconvenience of the pointless war.
Orderliness, stability, lawfulness. Look how I have to clean up your mess, big brother? Had you looked over your queen better, had you taken a firm hand in the upbringing of the bastard your wife brought into your house, all of this could have been averted.
It had been his brother's room Stannis had been directed to last night, and despite not sacrificing a thought to the fact in his exhaustion, Stannis shuddered now thinking what kind of debaucheries had taken place in that very same bed he had slept. Knowing Robert he knew there were bound to be many and more, and quietly he considered if he should have it removed and a new one brought in for his use.
"My lord?"
Ser Davos sounded out of breath but stubbornly repeated his query.
"Yes, Ser Davos? With whom?" Stannis hadn't taken note of his companion's earlier words and it galled him. It was not like him not to pay attention when important things were discussed.
"Lady Sansa of House Stark. Her fate is now in your hands, Your Grace."
Oh, that girl. Stannis tried to recall what he knew of her. Lord Eddard Stark's eldest daughter, Joffrey Baratheon's betrothed. Had stayed in the King's Landing after her father's execution - what a bloody mess that had been.
"The intended queen for that Lannister woman's bastard?"
"Yes, the very same."
"If she was part of that impostor's inner circle, I would expect to deal with her like with the other traitors."
A soft cough by his side made Stannis to turn and look at Ser Davos. They had almost reached the Great Hall, but instead of pushing the doors open to enter his onion knight slowed his pace and lingered behind them.
"I have heard there is more to it than that. She was apparently not a willing bride, but rather a prisoner of the crown. Tywin Lannister wanted to use her as a key to the North and gain some shreds of legitimacy for his intention to gather it back to the folds of the Seven Kingdoms."
Might be so. Not many women are likely to be endeared by those who cold-bloodedly executed their family. Or children, for that matter. The girl was indeed just a child, Stannis now recalled hearing.
"She is also very young," Davos added as if he had read his thoughts. It was an unnerving habit of his, but also very useful - most of the time.
Stannis stopped, thought the matter for a moment and then pushed it aside. He had much more pressing things to worry about than a fate of a young girl.
"I will think upon it. For now, make sure that she has all she needs and is treated with the courtesy her position deserves. Now, shall we move on?"
The day and the one that followed were busy, even busier than the ones preceding the battle. There were letters to write and send across the realm, meetings to be had, prisoners to interrogate, decisions to make. Stannis had hardly time to sit down for a proper meal but that didn't bother him. This was what he was born to do; to rule and to bring justice and order into the sorry mess that had been his brother's doing.
On the afternoon of the third day, Ser Davos came behind him and coughed again, softly, without opening his mouth to speak. And immediately Stannis knew what was coming. The girl.
Ser Davos was his most trusted and most loyal man and had laboured by his side tirelessly, executing his commands efficiently and without a question. Why would he be so concerned about this child? He liked children, that much Stannis knew. He had seven sons of his own – a matter of which, had he had a covetous bone in his body, Stannis would have been envious – and he did get along very well with his own daughter Shireen.
"Lady Sansa, I know. I have not forgotten." Stannis leaned back in his chair and stretched himself. They were seated in a king's private audience chamber Stannis has commanded to be fitted as his own to meet with people without the curious eyes of the whole court.
The resemblance of order had returned and with it, the life in the court had started to flow much as it had always been; court sessions in the Great Hall, courtly meals in the Dining Hall, a flow of auditions and petitions by the many who had arrived to seek justice or vengeance, all peppered with frequent meetings of the Small Council. It was much diminished, the previous council members either having escaped or being imprisoned, but Stannis had plans to fill the positions soon with his own men.
Ser Davos only looked at him, his brown eyes soft. Stannis liked that about him; he didn't speak if it was not necessary, unlike many others who apparently felt that a moment was wasted if not filled with meaningless words.
"And I have, as a matter of fact, come to a conclusion. According to the information I have received," a small nod to indicate that Stannis recognised who had been the main source of it, "she was indeed a prisoner rather than an accomplice. I acknowledge that and shall not treat her harshly."
"What do you mean to with her, then?"
Stannis frowned. "I still have to deal with her brother, the one who dares to fashion himself as the King in the North."
"It is not your crown he rebelled against but that of Joffrey Baratheons," Davos said quietly.
"I know that, of course. But now that the false king has fallen, he should see the error of his ways and return back to the realm like a good lord should."
"It has been but a few days since our victory. The word may not have even reached him yet."
"And that's why I plan to be patient with him. I trust he is a man of honour like his father and hence I have decided to return his sister to him as a token of my good will."
Ser Davos bowed his head. "Very well, Your Grace."
"As a matter of fact, no need to keep the news from the child herself. Summon her to the Great Hall this evening and I will share my decision with her directly."
Instead of approval Stannis expected to see on Davos' face, he only saw unease.
"What now, isn't that good enough?" His tone carried a sharp tone of annoyance. He was being magnanimous; what else could Ser Davos want?
"The same sources where I got my information tell me she was often summoned to the throne room to answer for the real and perceived crimes of his family. She was not treated kindly, and I fear she might be prone to expect the same should you summon her."
"How else am I supposed to convey these good news to her? I am not Joffrey and the sooner she learns that the better for her."
"If I may be as bold as to suggest, maybe you could visit her chambers in person? Just for the first meeting, to assure her that any fears she may hold are unfounded. Her chambers are not far from yours, the third door on the lower corridor under your own chambers."
Stannis clenched his jaw. Gods, he was the King, not an errand boy! Why would it be his concern what some foolish girl-child thought or feared? With a sharp reprimand already at the tip of his tongue, he however swallowed it. Ser Davos was overstepping his position; he knew it, and he knew that Stannis knew it. So why?
Deciding to let the matter drop Stannis waved at Ser Davos and dismissed him with muttered words about how he had better things to do with his time and the time for the girl to attend the court would come sooner or later.
Left to his own devices he finished a few more letters, reviewed the schedule for the next day, read exclamations meant to be read out loud in the market places across the King's Landing and soon enough found himself done with the tasks he had set for himself.
Glancing out of the window Stannis saw from the position of the sun that it was soon time for dinner. Time to change into something more regal than the practical and comfortable attire he preferred to wear when attending his matters of office.
He sighed. One more burden of the kingship, not only to act but also look the part. Well, nothing into it but to do it.
Stannis walked as he did everything else; with a purpose, briskly, not letting his aim wander, and soon he was climbing up the stairs to the king's rooms. Passing the entrance to the lower corridor Davos's words came back to him. 'The third door on the lower corridor'.
He stopped, considered it, and shrugging his shoulders - why not, I have time - he turned and entered the dark passageway. The visit should take but a few minutes and if that got Davos out of his back about the girl, the better.
Notes:
This is indeed my first attempt on stansa fic, and it has been very interesting exercise, and likely to become even more interesting as the story progresses. Do share your thoughts - and I am not averse to constructive criticism either!