A/N: Alright this is another long chapter and it will be in Arya's POV. In short, this might contain tons of cliche, as I am a very inexperienced romance writer. There will also be some comedy tropes used and even I feel that some of them may be cringeworthy, but I did write this within two days, and literally just wrote was on my twisted mind that day. In my opinion it is my worst chapter, so be aware. So, basically, I made Stafford kiss both of them in this chapter, to try to appease both sides and to set up where he will have to choose between the two of them in the next chapter. I will address reviews in the next chapter, and leave you guys to it. Please give me advice and cristicisms on my try very big emphasis on try in adding the romance. Thank you all for the support and remember if you want to support YOUR choice for the pairing, please vote on the poll that closes two days before EITHER CHAPTER 22 or 23

Enjoy!

Arya

Arya didn't go to final day of the tournament, instead she was with her dancing master, Syrio perfecting her technique with the sword. It was hard work, and it was definitely not easy, but the effort and the increase in her proficiency with a sword was definitely worth the pain. While all the other girls went off to see their knights in shining armor out in the Hand's tournament, Arya kept to herself in order to further refine her technique with the blade. She had better things to do than watch something she didn't even enjoy and found impractical. It was just basically a bunch of grown men, and boys playing a game of war, which her father even told her was not something that can or should be brought into light-hearted context. From what she heard from some other people, Stafford didn't even go to it, and he had been talking about the tournament for a while. She even heard him grumble about having to sit it out when they were exploring the dungeons once, and one time while they were sparing in an empty training ground early in the morning. Those early morning training sessions were perhaps the most favorite events that happened while she was at King's Landing,

Even with her new skills, she had not found a way to beat Stafford like she had promised him many times before. Stafford seemed to have been practicing his poleaxe for a long while, and she wasn't that surprised when she could not out do him in much. Stafford Baratheon, in part was one of the most dedicated she could find in the art of combat. He practiced daily to nothing short of perfection, rarely taking any rests to fortify his stamina, and even with his lack of discipline in most of actions apart from practice, he took his training more seriously than most. Every time he would meet her at the end of most days, she could tell that he had worked hard all throughout the day. He was not someone who spent time idle, and if there were to be only one man of action, she felt it would be none other than Prince Stafford himself. It appears sickness had overcome Stafford, as she did not even see him at the tournament, and instead spent his entire day in his room, except for the one time she saw him outside the room with his uncle Renly, who he seemed to spend a lot of time with. She swore he might have spent more time with his uncle than his mother or father. They didn't act like the normal uncle-nephew relationship either. Stafford and Renly acted much like Robb and Jon did with each other during Jon's time in Winterfell. They were as close as brothers, and they both clearly had a profound respect for one another, but both of them seemed to be more interested in jesting at one another instead of showing the same relationship with Stannis.

Eventually, however she was called down to the feast with the royal family, where she would have to interact with more people she seemed to loathe more than enjoy the company of. Everyone was in high spirits, except for some reason Stafford and his father the king, who still sat next to each other seemed to be less lively with one another. Stafford looked like he had been through a lot, bruised, and looked a lot more exhausted than usual. Was he that sick or did something happen in the tournament that she had not been made aware of at all? It might have been that, but the king looked at Stafford differently today, and she wasn't sure why.

She was brought down to the feast by her father's guard captain Jory Cassel. Sansa seemed to be a little nervous too, and she kept on glancing at Stafford and Joffrey for some reason. Joffrey seemed to be the only one there, but his mother, other uncle that wasn't Renly, and other family members from the Lannister side seemed to be missing from the feast.

"The tournament was magnificent," she sighed. "You should have come. How was your dancing?"

"I'm sore all over," Arya reported happily, proudly displaying a huge purple bruise on her leg. Sansa seemed to be

"You must be a terrible dancer," Sansa said doubtfully. Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the

"Dance of the Dragons,"

Her father inspected the bruise himself. "I hope Forel is not being too hard on you," he said.

Arya stood on one leg. She was getting much better at that of late. "Syrio says that every hurt is a lesson, and every lesson makes you better." Her father frowned. The man Syrio Forel had come with an excellent reputation, and his flamboyant Braavosi style was well suited to Arya's slender blade, yet still, a few days ago, she had been wandering around with a swatch of black silk tied over her eyes. Syrio was teaching her to see with her ears and her nose and her skin, she told him. Before that, he had her doing spins and back flips. "Arya, are you certain you want to persist in this?"

She nodded. "Tomorrow we're going to catch cats."

"Cats." Ned sighed. "Perhaps it was a mistake to hire this Braavosi. If you like, I will ask Jory to take over your lessons. Or I might have a quiet word with Ser Barristan. He was the finest sword in the Seven Kingdoms in his youth." Stafford Baratheon had already trained with Ser Barristan, according to Stafford, he taught him every move with the axe, even some swordsmanship to him. Stafford had a great respect for Ser Barristan, and Stafford even told him that all he was one of the best teachers he knew. Even when Stafford had grown better than his master with an axe, Ser Barristan continued to teach him about fighting and all he knew about it. While, Ser Barristan and Stafford seemed like they had two completely different styles of fighting, Arya definitely saw major elements of Ser Barristan the Bold fighting style if you watched Stafford. Even when Ser Barristan had fought Stafford in the Ruby ford that one fateful day in the Trident, she saw two identical warriors clashing it out, and even then Ser Barristan knew how to fight Stafford off. However, Arya didn't want to be fight like Stafford. She fights hard and lives hard her own way.

"I don't want them," Arya said. "I want Syrio."

"As you wish," he said. "Try to be careful." Then before Arya could respond, something erupted in the Baratheon side of the table. And sure enough, Stafford and Joffrey were at it again, but this time, it seemed like it was going on in a much larger scale than she had imagined.

"When you go up to my betrothed and hand her a rose proclaiming that she is the true queen of love and beauty, that definitely implies that you are interested in her. And with the way she has been acting and the way that she talks about you almost without end-" Joffrey began to say. Arya didn't know what to think of this statement by Joffrey. It seemed he was filled with hot air, and Stafford seemed to be tired to try to deal with this. Their mother wasn't here to stop it, and the king seemed to be too drained of energy to deal with it, as he just down another cup of whatever he was drinking as the argument gained heat.

"Maybe if you had given her the treatment that she deserves, and not the neglect that she is receiving, I might have not even considered giving it to her. I would have given the damn thing to Arya if she were there, but she wasn't so what in the seven hells was I supposed to do?" Stafford roared, slurring his speech. The Prince seemed to be under the influence of the drinks that he had consumed. For a boy fifteen, he had the appetite for drink like his father did.

"You still had no right to do that! And you haven't denied having relations with my betrothed so I'm going to have to assume that it is true!"

"You're a thick one aren't you? How about I spell this out for you since you don't even seem to get one thing I am saying. I did NOT have sexual relations with your betrothed, Sansa Stark. I never told anybody to lie. Not a single time. Never. These allegations are false, and if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my life without you trying to mention this,"

"The Seven don't like it when people deny things that are true-" Joffrey paused and winced. Everyone had now been locked on them, her sister, who seemed to be the object of discussion. Stafford then raised a fist like he was about to punch Joffrey, but stopped just short of contact, his fist slumping to his side limply. Arya really wanted him to connect, it would have been funny.

"You're not worth my damn time anymore. She doesn't mean anything to me, and if you had done your job, I probably wouldn't have talked to her," Stafford spat venomously, downing another glass. It was at this moment, Sansa looked straight at Stafford, and Stafford looked at her. Joffrey still whimpering a bit after almost getting punched again, looked at them.

"Excuse me a moment," Sansa said coldly, getting up from her seat wandering off. Stafford dropped his cup and went after her, almost tripping and lurching around the table and walls as he walked. Joffrey was now rambling at how this was further proof of their relationship.

"That's Stafford's tenth glass of Dornish Strongwine, he must not be acting like himself anyway. Normally, Stafford would have probably knocked his brother's teeth in even with the circumstances. I guess he just decided against it now," Arya heard Renly say to Ser Barristan, who seemed to be getting up to collect Stafford and Sansa, "Just give the two a moment." Arya, wondering where the two were going, suddenly got up from the table and her father tried to get her, but someone seemed to have stopped him.

"Let them work their own problems out, they'll be back eventually, Lord Stark. Joffrey, since you seem to be so worried about your betrothed and her behaviors around your brother, why don't you go with them?" Arya heard Renly say, as she looked back and saw her father just stand there, almost painfully. She even saw Joffrey just sit back in the table more than embarrassed and defeated and went back to looking at the meals that he was given.

Arya managed to follow, Sansa and Stafford to an empty almost deserted part of the feasting grounds. They were the preparation tents, which seem to have not been taken down by the servants. Arya wondered why the people didn't already take care of this. Sansa just sat in one of the benches outside of the preparation tent, before she even noticed Stafford. She just stood there, while Arya hid behind some odd crates laying about. Knowing Stafford, who was an observant person when he wanted to be, but with the amount of summerwine he had consumed, he couldn't have been able to have his normal perception skills. Once, Sansa noticed Stafford clearly took notice of her.

"What do you want? Can't you find Arya and go talk to her? Isn't that what you said you wanted? You clearly told everyone in the court that what you did today was just something to make me feel better. Well I'm sorry to tell you, that's not what I want," Sansa shakily snapped, desolation in her voice. Sansa was in the midst of having a crisis, and Stafford still stood there with an expression she had never seen before. Stafford, was usually jesting and smiling, not having this odd new face Arya had now seen before her. For a moment, she saw the perpetually dour Stannis Baratheon, and it was something that she had never quite seen before. His face when it wasn't smiling and had a certain sternness to it, had an uncanny resemblance to Stannis Baratheon, except much younger.

"Look I-"

"Is what you are about to say just meant to make me feel better? Am I someone to take pity on like you told everyone? I can assure you, if that's how you feel, and everything you had said to me during all times we had talked were not even things you meant…" Sansa interrupted him and she immediately stood up. She wasn't nearly tall enough to compare to Stafford. She had to look up to try at least try to get him face to face.

"If memory serves me correct, when I was talking to you, you seemed to be living in some fairy tale, that your prince would come save you. Open your eyes, Sansa, that shit just doesn't happen,"

"Fine, you bastard, whatever you say. Just so you know, I wish you hadn't given me anything. I wish you had never even spent time with me, in fact now that you mentioned it, I hate you. Fuck off." Sansa just pushed the much larger Stafford away, and began to walk away. Stafford before she could get far, ran up and grabbed her by the arm.

"Alright, can we forget the things that I said, I didn't really mean to call you that or make you feel like that. I'm trying to create something that's not there, A spark I saw in you during the tournament. And something about what Joffrey said, unsettled me. And maybe…"

"Maybe? What the fu-" She was cut off. And Arya with all her being could not even comprehend what she had witnessed next. Stafford lunged forward, and embraced her sister, and began to furiously kiss her. Sansa's eyes went wide, and before long, she ceased trying to push him off or resist him stroking her supple curves and long legs beneath her gown. In fact, her own hands were soon guiding Stafford's to where they both wanted them, locked in a carnal embrace. Even as she knelt behind a crate, Arya could see Stafford's calloused hands undoing the lace in Sansa's dress, trying to tear it off savagely. All the while, Sansa was slipping off Stafford's jacket, and holding herself even closer to his broad, muscled chest. Arya had seen enough, but before she could reveal herself from her position, someone in the distance apparently did the job for her.

"I knew it! I finally have proof! I can't believe it. You girl, you saw it too, right?" Stafford immediately pulled away, and Sansa, realizing what she had done, let out a shriek and looked towards Joffrey.

"I believe… I just made a terrible mistake…" Stafford muttered in slurred voice. Joffrey seemed to be seething with rage. But then Joffrey got a smile on his face, that Arya did not like the look of that at all.

"You think you can just go around, disrespect our father, defile my betrothed, and grab her ass? Lets see how you like THIS, Stafford," Joffrey declared. Joffrey went over to where he saw Arya. Arya quickly got up, and watched him warily.

"My brother, w-what are you doing?" Stafford quietly mumbled in genuine surprise, his stern face turning pitiful and lost, falling to the ground and crawling to his brother blindly. Despite how betrayed she felt by Stafford, and her sister for what had just occurred before their very eyes, she was wondering what Joffrey what was doing.

"Giving you taste of your own medicine," Joffrey proclaimed, forcefully grabbing Arya, which she really had not time to do anything, because of the surprise. And soon, if things did not get even weirder, Joffrey held her close and locked her into a wild kiss, only tightening his embrace as Arya struggled to break free. Before she can react, something else happened.

"Hey, what's all commotion?" Everyone turned to see Ser Barristan, in a coat of enameled white scales over mail, standing there. "By the Seven, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, JOFFREY!?" Arya managed to push Joffrey off, punching him in the stomach over and over in a black rage. It was all that she had left. Joffrey taking punches to the gut causing him to reel backwards in pain. Just before things got even worse, the king, his brother, and her father managed to get to where they were. Stafford, clearly very distraught about the turn of events, and he had faced many things and many turn of events. Jory had to hold her back from giving Joffrey more punches to his gut. The way he decided to deal with the situation between Stafford and Sansa was one of the worst possible ways someone could take that. The thing that they did was enraging no doubt, and for once in her life, Arya at least understood how Joffrey could feel after that. Arya could not believe it either and part of her was enraged at what Stafford had done, even if he was clearly not feeling like himself. Sansa just stood there, looking down at the ground, while Stafford remained on his knees and hands on the ground trying to stabilize himself. He soon after let out a stream of putrid vomit that stank terribly, staining his coat and covering the ground.

"What happened? We came as soon as Ser Barristan started screaming." Her father said quietly.

"Although Lord Renly told me that they could handle it themselves, it seems when I went to investigate the noises in this area, to make sure the King and both his children were secure. After Prince Joffrey ran off to catch up to these people," Ser Barristan began to explain. "Then, to my great surprise I arrived to see Prince Joffrey, how should I put it, ah yes, inappropriate interactions. Afterwards, everyone arrived in time to see Arya shove Joffrey off, and began to assault him. Luckily, it didn't get worse." Her father seemed like his inner fire had been lit, and approached Joffrey with a cool, almost deadly look on his face. Joffrey began to back away slowly.

"I'm not the one to blame here? I had a perfectly good reaso-" He was interrupted before he could finish with a swift punch in the face. Arya didn't think her father would do that. He had never done something so drastic in his life. Her father literally just punched the heir to the crown of Westeros in the face, much like how Stafford had done in the Winterfell Great Hall, the fateful day Arya had met the Baratheon prince. Sansa and Stafford seemed to remain silent through all of this, and Arya who was still being restrained by Jory Cassel.

"You dare do that to my own daughter. I can't believe someone that Robert raised would act in such a disgraceful way. How dare you treat my daughter in such a disgusting matter!"

"You dare hit me? Don't you know who I am," He received another hit this time to the stomach. Ser Barristan looked like he was about to intervene in the chaos, and Stafford seemed ready to step up for his own brother.

"Robert, aren't you going to do something about this, your friend Lord Stark seems to be striking your son," Renly stated, but no response came to Robert. He just stood there with a look of stunned silence in his face.

"Your lack of cooperation has been noted, boy. I am starting doubt the decency of the arrangement you have with my daughter, Sansa," Lord Stark stated.

"Wait, Lord Stark, let's not get hasty, let the boy explain what why he even did it. It might not be the best explanation, but he is just a boy, he makes mistakes as well," Ser Barristan managed to suggest before things got anymore heated and escalated than before.

"I'm sure your daughter would love for the engagement to get called off. Stafford and her seemed to be too fond of each other already. I caught him and her in the middle of a certain manner of inappropriate actions much like how Ser Barristan managed to," Joffrey explained.

"Do you have evidence or any sort of witness to these events?" Ser Barristan stated before Arya's father could even respond to Joffrey with a piece of his own mind.

"The girl, Stafford's betrothed! She saw it too!" Joffrey proclaimed pointing his finger at Arya while doing so.

"Jory, why don't you let Arya go so she could speak," Her father commanded. Jory managed to let her go, but made sure he was ready to grab and catch her in case she wanted to run away. Good choice by Jory, if he had not, she probably would just run away. She wanted to run as far away from everyone as possible.

"I was hiding behind the crates when I followed Sansa and Stafford," Arya began with Joffrey looking intently at her while talking. Everyone did, including Stafford and Sansa. Sansa looked like she was going to interrupt her. She remembered Sansa being in this position before with her betrothed Joffrey. It seemed like Sansa, Arya, Joffrey, and Stafford had gotten caught up in another incident. Much like the trident something had happened and someone got the chance to speak. But unlike the trident, Arya held the chance to speak tell the full truth and what happened.

Arya finally realized how hard it was for Sansa to choose between either the right thing to do or protecting someone she thought she cared about and loved. If Arya told the whole truth, Stafford would probably be in much more trouble than he wanted to be. Stafford would be in a bad position and she would have inflicted it. If she didn't, Stafford would be protected and so would Sansa, and only Joffrey would be made out like he was inventing things, although this time ironically, he wasn't actually lying about the events that occurred. A part of her really wanted to see Stafford suffer for what he had done to her. Arya had done nothing but be Stafford's friend and be by his side. She felt betrayed that he could not honor even one commitment to her, even if she didn't care for marriage, "But I couldn't get a good look of what the two were doing, It all happened so quickly, I didn't have a chance to see clearly."

Part of her died when she said that. She had just done the same thing Sansa had done to protect Joffrey during the Trident. And for the first time in her life, she understood why Sansa had done it. But, after all that happened, she felt like she played a part in it as well. She didn't seem content in already being seen as the better of the two by mostly everyone, but now by one of her closest friends, and companions, Stafford Baratheon. It wasn't like she wanted Stafford in that light, but she wondered herself what she would have done if Stafford had done what he had done to Sansa to her. She was two years younger, but she didn't really think she could pull him off like she did to Joffrey. She had never thought about these things before, but now she suddenly did with Stafford around.

"You little…" Joffrey managed to whimper.

"Hold, brother," Stafford was dragged up on his feet from the ground by Renly, who had somehow got to him without anyone noticing. "There's no need to get upset. It is my duty and it is part of my honor to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So yes, I lost control and I did do what Joffrey described. I won't lie to anyone."

"Stafford, I know it's none of my business, but what in the Seven hells cause you do that?" His uncle Renly asked, incredulous and scowling. Everyone looked at him.

"Let me just take something to clear my head," Stafford stated drawing a small vial of something from his shirt. Renly's eyes opened wide when he saw it, but before he could snatch it away from Stafford, Stafford had already downed the vial.

Without warning, Stafford immediately fell down face first on the ground, soaked in his puke. After a few moments, Stafford began to snore loudly in a puddle of his own vomit, drenching his attire in the food he ate, wine he drank, and bile from the depths of his throat. He reeked of puke, and Sansa had to turn away, holding in her instinct to wretch at the horrible stench.

"Great, he's asleep. What was in that vial?" Arya's father demanded with a voice that cut like cold steel.

"I think I accidentally gave him one of sleeping potions my herbalists brewed. It was supposed to be a bruise to mitigate some of the drowsiness from drinking too much. Gave him the wrong one, I guess," Renly stated.

"Renly, if you and Stafford had not tried such brilliant schemes and concoctions, Stafford, probably wouldn't be in the situations he is in. That's besides the point however, what should we do now, my king. A lot has happened during this day that needs to be discussed," Ser Barristan stated.

"I agree, Robert, something does need to be done about this," Her father replied, steely gaze shifting from Arya, to the teary-eyed Sansa, Joffrey, and his brother. The king had been standing there in stunned silence with what he had just heard, and just sighed.

"I think I had a little too much to drink, tonight. I think everyone just needs rest. Someone get Staff back to the Red Keep, he's been through a lot and honestly even though my mind and heart want so desperately to discipline him for his actions, maybe it's best to give everyone a little time. He could definitely explain himself better," the King quietly and grimly commanded.

"I agree with my brother for once, let's all just call it a day, and forget this ever happened," Arya just remembered her father guide her away from the scene, still stunned at the situation, and Renly getting a few servants to Stafford to get him out and clean him up. Stafford was fast asleep. Arya was put to bed after traveling from the grounds back to the Tower of the Hand. She wondered what could have caused Stafford to behave that way, Stafford had shown no hints he even wanted to do anything of that sort. It came out of nowhere, and some parts of his alternate self had shown itself. He was intoxicated, but still acting impulsive like that might have caused some of Stafford's shortcomings.

It had been two days since the incident, but Stafford seemed to have spent all those days in his room. She kept with her normal life, trying to forget what had happened just days prior. For some reason, she couldn't even make eye contact with her sister, and neither can she. There seemed to be a rift larger than there had been before, and what seemed temporarily fixed when everyone was in high spirits after the tournament, seemed to be crumbling down now. Before she decided to chase cats for the day, she decided to stop by Stafford's room, to see if he was finally up. She wanted, no she needed an explanation for what happened, and he was the only one, who can explain what had happened. Joffrey certainly didn't want to, in fact he seemed indifferent to her existence now, after the incident. A lot has happened since then even, and yesterday even worse. While chasing cats, she had overheard a few men, and they were talking about killing her father. No one would believe her, even after Tommen and Myrcella managed to discover her. She saw the two unidentified men, Stafford, who knew more people in King's Landing than she did could also know something. Going to Stafford would literally take out two birds with one stone.

She got to Stafford's room and it was open, this time, however his mother was there. The golden haired queen caught a glimpse of her, before Stafford could as he was talking to her. Finally, after two days, he wakes up. The morning was young, so no matter what she had to talk to him now, before he wandered off to get training in. No matter how much people prevented him from doing so, Stafford managed to find a way into the training grounds. One time, he somehow was able to get people think he was a new squire his Uncle Renly had gotten, and the best part of it was, his uncle helped him make it up. Arya was always fascinated by how Stafford got around rules, but some if not most of the time, Stafford would be hit with some sort of consequence due to his breaking of the rules. Arya tried entering the room.

"What is it you want, my dear?" The queen said eloquently. Stafford's mother, the Queen, was dignified and elegant, her very voice projecting a presence of utter dominance. No one could ever read her emotions, because even when she was enraged, her face remained calm while her soft voice turned sharp and cold. Arya felt fearful at her mask-like face every time she ever interacted with the queen, which was very few.

"I just came to see him, ask him a few things."

"Then you can ask them with me here, yes?" Queen Cersei gave her a cool look. Even as a smile curled at her lips, her eyes like green, frozen fire burned into Arya's.

"Mother, can you give us a few moments? I have a lot to explain to her, and we can discuss what we were discussing a bit later,"

Turning to her son, the queen knelt and gently patted Stafford's shoulder. "As you wish, my son. I'll be outside if you need me." The queen arose from her knee, glanced over Arya as if she were empty air, and walked out of the room. Arya walked in, and Stafford chuckled a bit. He seemed to be back to himself.

"So, I think I have a little explaining to do," He said blankly, a smile growing on his face. You think this is a fucking joke?

"A little? You grabbed my fucking sister, swept her off her feet, and kissed her. She held you close and you both started to slip each other's damn clothes off. And on top of all of this shit, your brother began to defile me, and you did nothing. How could you do this to me, you sick bastard? You gave me a promise in Winterfell, that you we would always be friends, and that you would never hurt me. Damn you." Tears began to well in Arya's voice. Stafford got up from the bed, this time in clothes that weren't stained with his own vomit. Arya wanted an explanation. It's not like she cared if Stafford had decided to start a relationship like that with someone else, it's just that starting it with her sister was worse. Sansa. Always her. However, now that it happened, she seemed to care, not a bit, but a lot. Especially now that it was her own sister.

"I didn't want to hurt you, it's just-"

"You think my sister's better than me don't you?" She blinked out her tears and gave Stafford a bitter glare. "She's prettier and a lot more fun to be around than me. It's okay, everyone does, Stafford, but at least tell me that before you decide to…" The taste of rust filled her mouth, and she felt her blood burning through her heart, the beating in her chest racing. I trusted you. And you gave me this. She didn't care for a betrothal, but nevertheless, she could feel herself drifting a million leagues away as she saw him stroke her sister's legs and feel her curves beneath her dress. I'll never hurt you. I swear, I swear, I swear...

Arya used to be afraid of the dark. No use fearing the dark. I'll always be in Sansa's shadow. She tried desperately to hold back the her sobs. Her fists clenched as her tears stained her cheeks. Stafford, clutching his stomach, got up from the bed now and walked towards her.

"Arya, no. That's not what I think about you. What happened at the tournament, what you saw, I can't deny. Your sister is a close friend, and there are some feelings I have about her that seemed to have surfaced at the tournament. But don't you ever think that you're any lesser than her. Arya Stark, I-I love you." Stafford's pale eyes stared long into hers. She continued to try to wipe her face as she began to tear up. "Don't you cry no more." Stafford held her close, but he was clearly much taller than her, so she could only reach his mid chest when she was next to him. She didn't even try to get him off her this time. Then they separated and for a moment locked eyes, Stafford almost a foot taller than she was. And for some reason something inside her felt odd. But suddenly an urge overcame her, and almost uncharacteristically, she went up and tried to lean in and got close enough to his face as she got on her tip toes quicker than he could realize what was going on. Stafford seemed to comply and their lips connected. This was technically the second time she had ever been kissed before, after the incident with Joffrey. They fell into each other's arms. Her lips were soft and warm, and his hands were gentle as he stroked her face.

"I can see you two are busy, but there are more urgent matters than this, Stafford." They immediately broke off and they turned to see Renly. "Stafford, we need you in the council, there is an urgent and I mean very urgent matter, we need you to record in our logs. Gods help us all,"