"And I hereby command that Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer present themselves to court to answer for their crimes. And I summon Tywin Lannister and the boy Joffrey to court to declare their fealty to the rightful king."
"So the king has decreed, and the small council consents," the Grand Maester's voice rang after Stannis' own.
Treason, incest and adultery, those were the only crimes they had enough evidence to put Cersei and Jaime Lannister on trial for at the moment, Stannis reflected as he made his way out of the throne room. What about the death of Jon Arryn? And the two attempts on the life of Ned Stark's son? There was not enough evidence yet to put that on the Lannisters.
And which Lannister in particular? What role did the Imp really play?
Stannis was certain that they were responsible for those crimes as well, but certainty was no substitute for actual proof, he knew. Not in the eyes of the law. Or justice.
But he also knew that it mattered very little to the Lannisters, knew that Cersei and Jaime would not come back willingly to King's Landing to stand trial, and Tywin and Joffrey would not come to declare their loyalty to him. The Lannisters had declared war, and the only way they were coming to King's Landing was to snatch the throne for Joffrey.
He had known that Cersei, Jaime and the children were still alive, and had made their way back to Casterly Rock. Lancel Lannister had told him that. The boy had lasted longer than Stannis had expected under interrogation, only spilling out the truth when the ship carrying them from Dorne had almost reached King's Landing. Stannis had planned for Robert to reveal the truth and issued the command for Cersei's and Jaime's arrest as soon as he arrived at King's Landing. But with Robert's illness, and death …
I should have done that myself, the moment I became king.
He was cursing himself now, for the missed opportunity. Why had he allowed himself to be distracted?
When his Hand came to see him in his study later that day, he lamented his own lapse in judgment. "I should have made that pronouncement earlier, before Tywin Lannister made his move."
"So many things were happening, Your Grace. And who could have predicted that Lord Tywin would have made his move so quickly? He had been content to wait before. And of course with your brother's death -"
"That is not an excuse!"
"Why not, Your Grace? Are you not allowed to grieve, for your own brother?" Ned asked.
Grief. Had he truly grieved, for Robert? Renly had shed tears. Even Ned had, when he thought no one was watching. But Stannis had not. He had spent the time he stood vigil over Robert's body in the sept arguing with his brother in his head. You should have done this. You should not have done that. If only you had listened to me when I told you …
Maybe you wouldn't be leaving a realm so deep in debt.
Maybe you would still be alive.
There had been no answer. Even in his head, Robert had not answered back.
"The letter announcing Joffrey's claim to the throne was written by Lord Tywin, I notice, and not Joffrey himself," Ned said, mercifully interrupting Stannis' thoughts of his dead brother.
"Written by a maester's hand, but coming from Tywin Lannister, yes. Joffrey of the House Baratheon, he said in his letter," Stannis scoffed. "Cersei had always insisted on the boy being called 'Joffrey of the House Baratheon and House Lannister' before. Even his clothes bore the sigil of both Houses. And yet now Tywin Lannister has the gall to call for the Storm Lords to support Joffrey's claim to the throne. As a Baratheon. When he is no Baratheon at all."
"Nevertheless, the letter was from Lord Tywin, not Joffrey himself," Ned repeated.
"Well, what of it? It's Tywin Lannister who will be fighting the war, not that boy Joffrey. I doubt he has the stomach for it. Not for actual war and actual fighting."
"I believe this is a miscalculation on Lord Tywin's part, Your Grace. The letter should have been from Joffrey himself, announcing his own claim to the throne. Otherwise, the war might start to look more like a rebellion by House Lannister, instead of a fight to put the rightful king on the throne. That is something we can use to our advantage."
"It is a rebellion by House Lannister. Joffrey is not Robert's son and heir, he is the product of Lannister incest."
"But Cersei and Jaime Lannister have not been found guilty in a trial yet. Strictly speaking, Joffrey's paternity is still a disputed issue," Ned replied.
"Disputed?" Stannis was incredulous. "Was I only imagining it, or did we not work together to gather the proof for their crimes? Did your stay in the dungeon erase your memory of that, my lord Hand?"
"Forgive me, Your Grace. I am only speaking of how it might appear to other people."
"How it might appear? Have you been speaking to Varys? Is this his counsel you're repeating?"
Ned did not flinch. "No, Your Grace. It is my wife's."
"Your wife?" Stannis was taken aback.
"She believes we cannot sit still and let Lord Tywin's lies go unchallenged."
"I made you my Hand, Ned, not your lady wife."
"But do you disagree with her assessment of the situation?"
She had a point, about Joffrey's paternity still being a disputed issue in the eyes of some, with Cersei and Jaime not yet found guilty for the incest and adultery, Stannis grudgingly admitted.
"And how exactly do we counter these lies?" Stannis asked.
"Point out that Lord Tywin has lied before. When he was spreading the words that Robert had murdered his children and grandchildren. But now that Robert is dead, suddenly they're still alive, and he's claiming the throne in Joffrey's name. We must also put out the proof that Robert's death was due to natural causes, that there was no poison or treachery involved."
"On the words of the new Grand Maester and Maester Cressen? The Grand Maester appointed after I convinced Robert to send Pycelle back to Oldtown. And the maester who has been serving me since I first became Lord of Dragonstone, and had been the maester at Storm's End long before I was born. They are lying for me, people would say. How many would believe it? You heard the cries on the streets, on the day of Robert's funeral. Kinslayer, they called me. And kingslayer."
They would say that Cressen was his man the way Pycelle was Tywin Lannister's man.
"Whether people will believe it or not, we do not know. But we must still try. We cannot let Lord Tywin's lies go unchallenged."
"Well, do what you must. They have never loved me before, I doubt they will love me now."
"Your Grace –"
"I know. A king need not be loved, but he cannot be hated. I am not deaf to your counsel, Ned. Now, what news of the Ironborn?"
"Euron and Victarion Greyjoy are on their way back to the Iron Islands. With their fleet of ships."
"This according to Varys' spies?"
"Yes. But I have also confirmed it through my own people in the north."
"Balon Greyjoy means to fight for the Lannisters."
"I believe so."
"Tywin Lannister must have promised him to rule as king in the Iron Islands."
"And he has no love for you, Your Grace. His rebellion failed largely because you destroyed his brother's fleet, allowing us to make our way to Pyke to defeat his forces."
"You have his son," Stannis said, after a pause.
"I sent him a letter reminding him of that."
"And his reply?"
"That he has no son. That his sons were all cruelly taken from him. The boy I have in my keeping is no longer an Ironborn. I may do what I wish with him."
"The boy is still his heir, is he not?" Stannis asked.
"Theon. His name is Theon. And he is a young man now."
Have you grown fond of your hostage, Ned?
"Theon Greyjoy is still Balon Greyjoy's heir. Is that not in his consideration?"
"He has a daughter. The Lady Asha. It seems he has been training her as his heir, treating her as one too. She is the older sister."
"But the Iron Islands is not Dorne. It does not matter that this … Asha Greyjoy … is the elder child."
"I suppose he considered his son as lost to him, from the moment he became my ward."
"Your hostage," Stannis reminded Ned. "The thing about hostages, they are only useful as long as they are still valued by the people they were taken from. Well, we will just have to crush the Ironborn, the way we did during the Greyjoy Rebellion. But guard Theon Greyjoy carefully at Winterfell, make sure he does not escape."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Is that the plan, do you think? Land attack by the Lannister forces, and by sea from the Greyjoy fleets?"
"Sellswords too," Ned replied. "According to Varys' spies in the Free Cities, Lord Tywin is spending his gold freely hiring sellsword companies. A very large number of men. Possibly more than the number of his own bannermen."
"No wonder he wants the throne to pay its debt to his House. He needs the gold. The question is, sellswords for the land attack, or sea?"
They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the defense of the city on both fronts.
After Ned left, he started poring over the details of the terms of the loan from the Iron Bank of Braavos. Littlefinger's record keeping was meticulous, he had to admit. Everything was recorded, from the smallest detail of the negotiations to the final terms agreed to.
Or perhaps too meticulous, Stannis thought after a while. Burying you with so much detail to hide the trees in the forest. To hide the evidence of any wrongdoing. It did not help that Littlefinger's writing was so small Stannis had to squint his eyes to read them. He walked to the window to clear his vision, and spotted Shireen and Arya playing in the courtyard.
He could hear their voices through the open window, and realized what it was they were playing after a while. Arya taking her oath as a Kingsguard. Arya was kneeling, saying the vows of the Kingsguard, while Shireen held a wooden stick on Arya's shoulder.
Then they called for Devan, who had been watching them quietly from the side. "Come on, Devan, it's your turn now!" Arya called out. Devan turned out to be playing the part of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He raised Arya up to her feet, putting a white blanket fashioned as a white cloak on her shoulders.
"You are now a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard," Devan said solemnly.
"No," Shireen said, "Sworn Sister."
"Yes, my queen," he replied gravely.
Shireen blushed. "We're not in the game now. I'm not the queen."
"And it's the Queensguard, not the Kingsguard," Arya interrupted. "We have to do it again, to get it right." She kneeled down again. Devan raised her to her feet, getting the words right to both girls' satisfaction this time. "You are now a Sworn Sister of the Queensguard."
White knights on white horses with white cloaks. He wondered if it was the romance of that which appealed to Arya Stark. Did she truly understand what it meant to be a member of the Kingsguard?
He should be getting back to Littlefinger's records. But he was curious to see how the game would end.
Arya started following Shireen, pretending to fight bad guys along the way. "You will not lay hands on the queen. You will have to kill me first!" She shouted. The blanket they had fashioned as her white cloak was too big for her, trailing behind her legs, she almost tripped a few times. Devan ended up holding it up as she ran around following Shireen. It was Devan who finally spotted Stannis watching them, and he whispered something to the girls. They stopped playing immediately, in fact stopped moving altogether. Stannis motioned for them to come closer to the window.
"Your Grace," said Arya and Devan.
"Father," said Shireen. Devan started apologizing, making a motion to leave. Stannis told him to stay.
"Surely it is better for the Kingsguard to detect and deal with any threat before it is so close to the king and queen," Stannis said.
"It is only a game, Your Grace," Arya replied.
"You and Shireen were meticulous about getting it right when you were taking your vows. And yet you're not worried about getting it right when you are actually doing your duty?" Stannis asked.
Arya blushed. "I will do better next time, Your Grace."
Shireen tried to explain, later, after Arya and Devan had left. "We were just playing, Father. Don't be angry."
Had he looked angry, when he spoke to them? "I know. I'm not angry. Why do you think I would be angry?"
"Because it's not true, what we were playing. I know I will not be queen."
He wondered how much she knew and understood.
"Uncle Renly is your heir. At least he is until I have a little brother." Her face bloomed when she said 'little brother.' "My little brother will be king one day."
"Yes, that is the law."
"But why is it …" she paused, watching him carefully.
"Go on."
"Why is the law not the same for the throne, and for everyone else?"
He knew what she meant. If Shireen was destined to have no little brother, she would inherit Dragonstone from him. But she would still not inherit the throne, not over her father's brother. Not over her Uncle Renly.
"The law for inheriting the Iron Throne was changed after a Targaryen civil war. Dance of the Dragons, it was called. Have you learned that in your lessons with Maester Cressen?"
She shook her head. "But I have heard of it."
"From whom?"
"I read about it myself."
She probably had plenty of time to read, lonely and friendless as her life was at Dragonstone.
Her eyes went wide. "Is it true that Princess Rhaenyra was fed to her own dragon?"
"That was what was recorded, yes."
"But why, if her father wanted her to be the queen?"
Why indeed? And the law that would have prevented her from inheriting the throne from her father, that put all male relatives, even uncles, not just brothers, above her in the line of succession for the throne, had not been written yet at the time. It was only codified after the end of that war, after her defeat and death.
"There was a war, between her and her brother. Things … are said and spread during war, sometimes untrue things."
Shireen nodded. "Like people lying about you hurting Uncle Robert. So it's a lie that her father wanted her to be queen?"
"No, that was not a lie."
Shireen looked confused. "Then why ..."
"Go on. Why what?"
She smiled. "I have forgotten some parts of the story, Father. I will read it again. I will ask you my question then."
Stannis nodded. But he wondered if Maester Cressen would think the subject a suitable one for a nine-year-old child.
"Devan wants to be a Kingsguard too," Shireen whispered suddenly. "To protect you."
"He's still too young to think of that. To know what he really wants to do with his life. A Kingsguard serves for life, do you know that?"
"Yes, Devan told me that. He knows all about them, he's read a lot about them."
Jaime Lannister had been only fifteen when he took his vows and became a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard. Stannis wondered if he had ever regretted it later. The real Kingslayer.
"I killed the Mad King, and your precious brother didn't have to soil his own hands. He should be grateful to me," he had said to Stannis once.
"My precious brother? His Grace King Robert, you mean? The king you are sworn to protect now," had been Stannis' only reply.
Ned's words would not leave him alone. "A king need not be loved, but he cannot be hated." The Mad King was hated. Justifiably so, for his cruelty.
What have I ever done, to justify their hatred?
He was still contemplating that question when his wife walked into the room. He had not seen her at all since the morning meal that day. She had her own duties and obligations to perform as queen.
They spoke of Shireen for a while, before Selyse started asking him about the small council meeting.
"The realm is deep in debt, but that is not a surprise. And Mace Tyrell wants to wed his daughter to Renly."
Selyse did not look surprised. "Of course. Now that Robert is dead, and that match could not come off."
Stannis, on the other hand, was surprised with her reply. He did not know that Selyse had known about Mace Tyrell's previous plan to wed his daughter to Robert.
"The ladies at court were talking about nothing else. In fact, according to some, he was planning that before Cersei's crimes were even discovered. No doubt he had some plans of his own to get Robert to set Cersei aside, even before he knew about the incest and adultery." She laughed, a hard, bitter laugh. "In fact, I am surprised he's setting his sight directly on Renly now."
"What do you mean?"
"Robert was king, Margaery Tyrell would have been queen. Renly is only the heir to the throne, and only until a son is born to you. I would have thought he would have aimed for the man sitting on the throne himself."
The man sitting on the throne. "I am already wed. As you well know, as my lady wife."
"Your brother was still wed to Cersei Lannister when Lord Tyrell first conceived of his plan. That did not stop him. Who is to say some crimes could not be placed on my head too, to convince my lord husband to set me aside? To take another woman as his wife? To be his new queen."
Stannis exploded. "The crimes Cersei Lannister are being accused of are not made-up! You have seen the evidence yourself."
"I am not speaking about the evidence you gathered. But Lord Tyrell must have had some plan of his own, if he was planning to push his daughter to Robert before he knew about Cersei's actual crimes. It must really grate on his pride now, a Florent as queen. And the pride of his House. A barren Florent, though, that is the word being spread. One unable to give the king a son and heir, only a daughter. A sickly daughter at that. Perhaps that is reason enough to set her aside."
He had not heard these tales. "Who has been saying that?"
"Oh, they are not saying it, merely whispering it. The ladies at court. Their lord husbands, too. No doubt even the smallfolks in the streets."
There was a different world she had to negotiate, as queen, with all the wives of the lords and the ladies at court. He had very little knowledge of that world, had not paid the slightest bit of attention to it in all the years he had been at King's Landing. His wife, who had spent most of their married life on a secluded island, on a piece of barren rock not that far away from King's Landing in actual distance, but might as well be as far away as the Wall in terms of the way things were done. He wondered if she was finding the transition and all the changes as jarring and strange as he was too.
And yet … her lack of faith in him was maddening.
"If you think that I would set aside my marriage vows for some made-up charges, then you do not know me at all."
"Not even for a son?"
He did not bother answering that question.
Barristan Selmy had insisted on a taster for Stannis' food and drink. "I will not lose another king under my watch, Your Grace," Ser Barristan had said. Perhaps it was time to employ a taster for his wife too. And his daughter. He doubted that he was an attractive marriage prospect as a man. But as a king, it was another matter altogether. The prospect of a daughter as queen and a grandson as the future king must be tempting for many ambitious lords, not just Mace Tyrell.
He thought of their wedding after his wife left the room. Not their wedding night, but the ceremony itself. Selyse's father had been dead for years, it was her uncle, Alester Florent, who had removed her fox-embroidered maiden cloak. Lord Alester's hands had fumbled trying to undo the clasp. It had taken him a very long time to remove Selyse's maiden cloak, all the while the guests were whispering and tittering. When Alester Florent finally succeeded, Stannis had put his own cloak on Selyse's shoulders in one quick motion, eager to get things over and done with.
"Perhaps he is regretting the match," Stannis heard the whispers and snickers later during the wedding feast. "Lord Florent thought he was marrying off his niece to the Lord of Storm's End."
"He should have waited for the other brother, the brother the king favors."
"Renly Baratheon is only a boy. Selyse Florent is not getting any younger."
"Or any prettier." The snickers had grown louder.
"Well, it is a good match then, with Lord Stannis. Lord Renly will grow to be a good-looking man like the king, you can see that even now."
He and Selyse had been made figures of ridicule even before Robert decided to bed Delena Florent on their wedding bed.
"Here in the sight of gods and men," the septon had said, "I do solemnly proclaim Stannis of House Baratheon and Selyse of House Florent to be man and wife, one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever, and cursed be the one who comes between them."
He had always taken his marriage vows seriously.
Now and forever.
But part of it had always confounded him.
One flesh, one heart, one soul.
It was absurd, he thought. How could two people ever become one? Why would they want to?
We are who we are.
And I am also a father with a duty to his daughter, he reminded himself, and went to look for Maester Cressen in his room. The old man was writing a letter. They spoke of Shireen's lessons, and the things Stannis wanted Shireen to be taught. She would not be queen, but she was still the daughter of a king.
"How long do you wish me to stay at King's Landing, Your Grace?"
"For now. I will ask the Citadel to send another maester to Dragonstone."
Maester Cressen's face fell. "Perhaps it is time for a new maester to serve Dragonstone. I know I am old, and growing infirm."
What was it with everyone thinking he wanted to set them aside? First Selyse, now Cressen.
I want you here because I need your counsel, old man.
"You followed me to Dragonstone when I became its lord, poor and desolate place that it was. Will you not follow me to King's Landing now that I am king?"
"Of course, Your Grace. I will follow you anywhere."
"I cannot appoint you as the Grand Maester. The Citadel has its own rules and laws in these matters, and I do not wish to meddle in that."
But I doubt position matters to you, or you would have stayed at Storm's End and not followed me to Dragonstone. In truth, he was still perplexed as to why Cressen had done that. He had never asked, and Cressen had never offered an explanation, except to say that a maester must serve his lord no matter where he went. But a maester was supposed to serve a castle, and for Cressen that was Storm's End. He should have stayed there when Renly was made its lord.
Cressen smiled. "I have no wish for the stress of that position, Your Grace. The new Grand Maester told me he has lost almost a stone since his appointment."
"The man could afford to lose that, and more," Stannis said bluntly. "But he is more useful than Pycelle was. At least he's not in the habit of falling asleep during council meetings. And I do not have to worry that he is reporting the things we discussed to Tywin Lannister."
"That relationship went back a long time, since Lord Tywin was Hand of the King. When he was but a young man," Maester Cressen observed.
"Pycelle was the Grand Maester, he should have been loyal to the king he served. No matter how long he has known Lord Tywin."
"Of course, Your Grace. But a maester … well, a maester is still human."
"Meaning?"
"Even with the vows we took, it is not always possible to erase all traces of personal … sentiments, let's put it that way."
It struck Stannis suddenly that perhaps Cressen was not only talking about Pycelle and Tywin Lannister. But the old man had already turned his face down, pretending to read the letter he had been writing, possibly already regretting what he had said. Stannis did not think it his place to pry further. He left Maester Cressen to his letters, and his regrets.
A/N: Thank you so much for still reading :D