Durran Baratheon, son of Stannis Baratheon, a boy of seventeen that many feel would be a far better ruler for Westeros than any of King Roberts Children or brother's.
Skilled at arms a former squire to Ser Barristan Selmy, a capable administrator with three years at the Citadel and a time as a Page at Riverrun where he helped run the day-to-day of the Riverlands.
Durran was Knighted at fifteen by Ser Brynden Tully, a Veteran of Roberts Rebellion and the War of The Nine Penny Kings.
Currently Durran is in the Island Fortress of Dragonstone where he's enjoying the pleasures of the flesh that belongs to Lady Melisandre.
(Chambers of Durran Baratheon, Dragonstone Fortress, Dragonstone, Westeros, Narrow Sea)
Durran was in blissful ecstasy as the soft and subtle curves of Melisandre shuddered and shivered beneath him. Durran was buried to the hilt, a rare thing for the men of House Baratheon who were notoriously well-endowed in the pleasure region. Melisandre for her part no longer cared for the vision she saw in the flames of her and Durran coupling, her senses were so overstimulated by pleasure it was almost painful...almost.
The two had been at it for an hour, and Durran showed no signs of slowing down. Melisandre had forgotten how great coupling with a skilled lover could be. Though, she failed to realize that she was his first, and everything he had performed with her for the last hour had been purely instinctual. Durran's breathing grew ragged as his entire body tensed and his lower body began twitching.
With a grunt, he erupted inside Melisandre, who subsequently passed out in a pleasure-filled haze. Durran collapsed atop Melisandre, before swiftly rolling off her, and pulling her into his arms.
Durran breathed heavily, ignoring his sudden tiredness, effectively shrugging it off as he enjoyed the feeling of Melisandre's soft, subtle, absolutely divine flesh against his own, drawing his strength from her. Durran pulled himself free from Melisandre, and idly caressed her soft rear.
"You have a God's stamina." Melisandre compliments, before he hand swiftly encircles and grips Durran's manhood. "Not to mention a God's physical perfection." She adds sultrily. Durran chuckles, before he takes a hand to Melisandre's bare breast.
"Wise words for someone of similar perfection, I've made you mine Melisandre, Uncle Robert was right, you will always remember your first woman, but I will never forget you, nor could I." Says Durran as Melisandre, to hers and Durran's surprise whimpers. Melisandre finds a certain joy at Durran Claiming her so, something that she hopes doesn't circumvent her faith.
After another round abed, Durran left Melisandre on her own, quickly leaving his room in order to go train in the Yard.
Durran hadn't been at it ten minutes before he was summoned to the Room of the Painted Table by his Father. Despite wishing to be given the opportunity to at least bathe first, he did immediately head to the Room of the Painted Table.
Upon arrival he noted the presences of his Mother, Sister, Ser Davos Seaworth, Father, Maester Cressen, and his lover, Melisandre.
''You've arrived, good. Two hours ago a guardsmen from Lord Eddard Stark's Hand Guard arrived and delivered a letter. This letter both informed me of Robert's death and confirmed my suspicions.'' Says Stannis.
''Father, what Suspicions?'' Asks Shireen.
''It has been confirmed by Lord Eddard that Joffery, Myrcella, and Tommen are Bastard's born of incest.'' Says his Mother, Allyria Dayne, of the Dayne's of Starfall.
''Oh shit, then that means we're effectively the True heirs don't it? How bad is it?'' Says Durran with a sigh.
''Renly has rebelled, called the Banners of the Stormlands and Reach, having married Margaery Tyrell. The Bastard King and his bitch mother have had Lord Eddard Imprisoned and promptly executed. We're told Lord Eddard's Eldest son marches South with Twenty Thousand Men to avenge his father.'' Says Allyria.
''So that means that the Northern host will be compromised mostly of Mormont's, Karstark's, Umber's, Bolton's, and Manderly's. We have the Royal Fleet, but not the land forces we need. What about The Vale? Has the Ill-Robin declared, what of the Greyjoy's and Martell's?'' Durran asks, running the numbers in his head.
''The Ironborn are unnervingly silent, The Martell's refuse to act, and the Arryn's won't move a Seven Damned Inch.'' States Stannis frustrated.
''Our only options are limited, We Could treat with Dorne, promise them the heads of Tywin and Clegane as well as their Daughter on the Throne, should be able to sway Prince Oberyn at least. Or we could look to the Arryn's Bannermen, promise Lord Royce his Daughter a Stag Crown in exchange for rallying the Vale Lord's to us.'' Says Allyria.
''Mother, I appreciate the thought, but it would be wiser to first treat with Renly, assuming that we are able to remove that Letcher Loras from him first. Although, we may be able to sway The Tyrell's to us should Renly die or dip his banners.'' Says Durran thoughtfully.
Stannis turns away from the ocean view to face the Room. ''Durran, you ride for Sunspear, get the Martell's to support us, do whatever it takes. Meanwhile I will Ride to Storm's End.'' Says Stannis.
''Got it. Give me an hour to prepare before I set sail.'' Says Durran gruffly, putting his commanders face on. "I'll assume that I have your permission to promise what I have to?" Durran asks his father, who silently and wordlessly confirms it as he does.
Durran immediately begins his preparations, they'll take a small force to Dorne, sneak past Shipbreaker Bay, limp past Rain house and hopefully stop at Estermont, with luck they'll meet friendly waters, but failing that, even if Lord Estermont declares for Renly, he is a Blood Kin to Durran through his Grandmother. So Durran may be able to leverage the fact he'd effectively be a Kinslayer if he handed him over to the Tyrell Addled Renly. Of Course, he could also sneak in, try and talk to Renly. Such thoughts could tip the balance in either way, but perhaps they could also facilitate a meeting with House Tyrell instead.
(Margaery Tyrell's Tent, Storm's End, The Stormlands, Westeros)
Margaery Tyrell was cleaning her hair when a hand covered her mouth and a knife touched her throat.
"Don't scream, I would not become a Kinslayer by any means. I am not supposed to be here, in coming here I've defied my orders. So if you plan on killing me anyway, you could give me the decency of hearing me out before you do." Came a voice that sounds distinctly Baratheon.
Margaery deciding that the logic and argument was fair nods, and the hand slowly recedes and she turns to find someone she didn't expect; Durran Baratheon, Renly's nephew, and hers to once the marriage was consummated.
"Well, this is a surprise, Lord Durran Baratheon." Says Margaery.
"Prince, Father's taken the Crown. Now let's ignore the pissing contest that will be my father and uncle, I have a proposition, one that may let us keep heads and crowns. Tell your Grandmother that if Renly bends the knee to Stannis, he can keep his crown." Says Durran.
"Seems contradictory no?" Asks Margaery.
"I'll convince Father to renounce the Old Kingdoms, a King in each Region save Dorne. Renly can rule as the Storm King, while my Father can Rule as the High King of Westeros. A King for each of the Regions still ruled by the King on the Iron Throne." Says Durran.
"An interesting concept, but why can't Renly be the High King?" Margaery presses.
"Because, My Lady, Uncle Robert Made Renly Lord of Storm's End, and my Father Lord of Dragonstone, Throw in the Royal Pedigree and the fact that the Targaryen's ruled the Crownlands regardless of Dragonstone, where else would my Father be willing to rule. Renly is at least the compromising type, besides look at it this way, if Renly dies without issue, you can press your claim as a royal to me, to Robb Stark, to Quentyn Martell, to Tyrion Lannister or to Robin Arryn to be a Queen. Plus by marrying me, you get the High Queenship, or you'd get the Lannister's wealth to fortify Your own, or you'd have the luxury of the oldest Westerosi Family in living existence, or the First Knights. But the child of you and Renly could one day unite Westeros, since, and may the God's forgive me, when men like Tywin Lannister, My Father, and your Grandmother are gone and more agreeable people replace them." Durran offers.
"You make a convincing argument, but what Guarantee would I have that the other Houses would agree?" Asks Margaery.
"Because one they keep their heads, two they would be ensuring a peaceful existence, and three what other guarantee do you have of my Uncle peaking in you instead of your brother?" Says Durran.
Though she frowns, Durran makes a valid point, and even if she had Loras warm him up, there's no Guarantee that he'd perform to anybody's satisfaction, of course, she did have a more susceptible option before her. Durran wasn't subdued by Loras and Renly's Sexual Preferences, a child of his she could easily pass off as Renly since the babe would be indistinguishable unless he inherited his or her grandmother's eye color. Of course the argument could be made that it was due to the fact that Renly's own grandmother was Targaryen.
Plus, if Renly died, she could use her Pregnancy to force Stannis to concede to the match if House Tyrell pressed the matter. Stannis would also likely need their grain, wealth and troops to both win and keep the hold on the throne.
Ultimately it was a risk Margaery had to take, and if it came down to paternity, she could claim the babe as Renly's or Durran's if need be.
"I'll talk to Renly, but I want a price met." Says Margaery.
"What Price, dare I ask?" Asks Durran with some dread.
"The Flesh Price." Says Margaery Shrugging off her gown.
Durran immediately attempts to avert his eyes, but his own Baratheon Instincts and his male anatomy betray him, and despite an almost Renly Reluctance, he gives in to Margaery. Durran shrugs his own leathers off, and Margaery finds herself less inclined towards Renly by the minute as she gazes upon the growing sword on his person.
Durran would all too happily ravage her, but there's a certain flair to Margaery that stays his primal instincts. Durran is completely at Margaery's mercy, and she is very particular on which mercy she inflicts.
Three hours...Duran and Margaery spent three hours indulging in a forbidden coupling, Durran knew he'd have a lot to answer for at the end, but by the god's Margaery was something else entirely. Durran now stood at the shore, Margaery seeing him off.
"I have to go." Says Durran.
"I know, for what's it worth I wish Renly was you." Says Margaery.
"Come with me." Durran Offers.
"Durran, I can't, it would amount to kidnapping, and unless Renly is dead we can't." Says Margaery.
"Have you consummated the Marriage?" Durran asks.
"You know the answer as well as I do." Says Margaery, causing a sheepish and slightly embarrassed and amused grin to appear on Durran's face.
"Then I'll wait, I'll press Father, and do what it takes to get him over the Siege." Says Durran as he takes her hands into his own and kisses them.
"We'll meet again, I'm certain of it, some loves can transcend more than one lifetime." Says Margaery.
"You know, when you look at me like that, so full of desire and passion, but controlled as only you can do? I will do whatever you want." Says Durran.
They slept together after the first meeting hadn't even finished, and Baratheon's were as notorious for their virility as Tyrell's were their fertility. To say she was uncomfortable in the more than likely odds she was pregnant was to say Robert Baratheon was faithful to his Queen.
(Sunspear, Dorne, Westeros)
Durran was being escorted under heavy guard to Prince Doran. He was accompanied by his Cousin Edric at least. Some safety in that. He was led into the hall and found the most exotic beauty he'd ever seen, Margaery was one thing, Melisandre another, but it was like he was seeing the most beautiful woman in three different forms.
Durran had one thought...'Uncle Robert, I blame you for this!'