A/N: I know there are Robert SIs galore, some of them my favourites. But the plot bunnies just won't leave me. So here is something I've been working on.

Lord of thunder (SI-ish)

Stannis:

He first saw the Stormlanders come across the horizon as he stood there to receive him with Renly and Lord Arryn, Ned Stark already having made his way to meet his northern kin. He saw his brothers banners followed closely behinds by others. Bronze buckles on blue, Black nightingale on yellow, a turtle on green, Forked purple lightning bolt, Countercharges Griffin's red and white, The crossed quills, The battling swans red and white, The quartered sun and moon, The three stalks of wheat. Soon he was just switching banners with the house name on instinct for the rest, Errols, Staedmons, Wyldes, Wensingtons, Herstons, Horpes. Gods, did Robert bring all the nobility of Stormlands with him, He thought. Then he saw banners he couldn't place from his lessons with the maesters. Household knights, he realised. Oh, it's worse. Robert and his frippery. Were they wearing chain and plate instead of riding leathers they would have resembled a great host marching to war, then men meaning to win prizes and accolades in a tourney.

But then it's no normal tourney now, is it? Indeed while he had no doubt that Robert intended to make a show of strength with his display, it was this number and half again when Lord Mace Tyrell had showed up with his flowery knights and the chivalry of reach. This tourney at Harrenhal had been turning out to be the grandest of all tourneys Seven Kingdoms had witnessed. With outrageous Sums for prizes and a veritable city of tents pitched outside Harrenhal, for even with its size, it was nowhere near big enough to house all that had and were to come. And all for the nameday of a daughter. How Lord Whent had been able to scrape enough coins for this folly, considering his desolate Castle was beyond Stannis. But then so were tourneys themselves. He understood the need for them as Lord Arryn had explained, keep the mettel of the knights sharp and keep the smallfolk amused, but surely a much smaller affair than this would have sufficed. Frippery, all frippery, he thought, frustrated.

Soon his brother was upon them. He leapt off his horse and made it straight to him. "Lord Brother, I bid you-" he was cut off as Robert hugged him. He stood there stiffly for a few moments before returning his embrace. The embrace that always took him back to all those years ago, when they had wept in each others arms, shortly after the loss of his parents. When they parted he took ahold of his forearms.

"It's been too long, Stannis." Robert said in that booming voice of his, a large smile plastered across his face. He couldn't help himself feeling both glad and a little frustrated at that. After all hadn't he himself shipped off Stannis and Renly to foster with Lord Arryn. But he didn't let it come to his face.

"Too long indeed, brother." Despite himself a small smile having crept up his face.

Robert than moved up to his younger brother, kissing his brow and ruffling his hair, "And how's the little stag?" Robert asked.

Renly for his part had a petulant scowl on his face, "I'm not little, I'm big now!" retorted Renly with all the arrogance he could muster, before the smile came back to his face "But I'm good, brother."

"I hope you both haven't troubled Lord Arryn overmuch?" Robert asked. At that Stannis shook his head no, while Renly had a sheepish look on his face, saying "Not overmuch." Robert's smile grew even wider at that, making his way to Lord Jon. He then made a bow that wouldn't be out of place of chivalric illustrations the Septons were like to beat into every lordlings head of how to be courtly and proper.

"Lord Arryn." He said coming back to his full length.

"Lord Baratheon." Lord Jon replied, a queer look on his face, the same look he gave Ned or Stannis when they practiced in the training yard in Eyrie or when he quizzed his charges with counterfactuals on the matter of state and rule and was presented with a good response. "Come let us sup, and have you wash the dirt of the road off your pallet."

At that, they all started towards the large tent at the centre of the vale contingent, while the Stormlander one went about pitching theirs. While all looked forward to wine and bread to be had in Lord Arryns tent, Stannis did not miss the the massive tent being erected in the colors of his house or the near overloaded carts being wheeled near the same. Gifts, I am sure. Robert of course, given to his flattery.

Since Roberts ascension, not only House Baratheon, but the Stormlands itself seemed to have come into great fortunes, driven by highly increased trade with the east, a trade fleet being commanded from Evenfall Hall, that he knew for sure was loyal only to his brother, and the strange contraptions that his brother seemed to dream up every moon, tasking poor old Cressen and grandnuncle Harbrert to see them to fruition. Delegation is a superpower, he remembered his brother saying. Or all the projects his brother had driven across the Stormlands, from the myraids of waterwheels across the many nameless small rivers and creeks that ran through Stormlands driving huge hammers beating steel, crushing tree pulp or wheat stalks, to the Semaphore towers he knew even Lord Tywin had taken up on erecting in his demesne, to the pebbled and banked roads, to the reconstruction of Summerhall he had used to win favour with the King along with a large sum of monies to augment the cost House Baratheon took up for and the new castle coming up near five leagues away from it. Summerwatch, he called it, in nod to Summerhall, along with the town that sprang up from all the laborers and masons doing their work and the peddlers that came along with them. Robert had reasoned, in full court in Kings Landing, that a leal Bannerman should always be at hand should Royals ever need their help. A reasoning that surely struck with King Aerys having witnessed the Tragedy at Summerhall. He means for you to have it, Stannis remembered Cressen telling him when he and Renly visited Storms End on one of their two moons long visits as they had during their fostering. At that time, while he found himself glad, for very few lords looked after their brothers like Robert seemed to, setting his brother up with a castle no less and incomes from the town that spring near it, he had made his way to Robert's solar to confront him about the costs that his whims were sure to be costing his household. He remembered it as it were yesterday.

"I never knew you to be a penny pincher, Stannis." Robert had said, a bemused look on his face.

"I'm not. But it won't do to spend all our coffers on your whims Robert." He had said, defiant as a boy of four and ten namedays could be.

At that Robert scowled. "They are not empty whims, they are plans. Plans, mind you, that have already started to pay off." He said standing up from behind his desk and making his way to the window that looked out to the Shipbreaker bay. "Pull up old uncle Harbert if you want to and ask him. He'll show you the ledgers. We are in the green Stannis, I wouldn't have us bankrupt on empty whims. Surely you must know that." At that Stannis looked a little abashed, reconsidering the wisdom in questioning his lord Brother so. After all this were his coffers, his people. "I understand your concerns, Stan," Robert continued, using that stupid nickname he had bestowed upon Stannis, "In fact I am glad you have a keen mind for these sorts of things. Most lords would dismiss such concerns as copper counting and being beneath them, they forget what puts swords at their command and exoctic foods and wines in their belly. So it's good you think of these things. But rest assured, I won't beggar us. Everything is accounted for. We're no Lannister to be sure, but we can afford a little showoff."

So lost was he in thought, that he didn't realise that they had reached the tent, till Robert slung his overlarge arm across his shoulder. "So you've caught the brooding bug from Ned Stark?", He asked, bemused. Stannis for his part just snorted and shook his head.

They entered his tent, with all four of them being joined by Ser Denys, Lord Jon's somewhat distant cousin who was also his goodnephew through marriage and Bryce Caron, heir to Nightsong and Robert's Squire. We'll, one of many squires. As the introductions were made and bread and wine were offered, they sat around the large table at the centre of the tent, Robert asking Ser Denys of this and that, while shrugging off his riding leathers there and then, forgetting all propriety. There's the Robert I remember. If Ser Denys or Lord Jon, found that improper, they didn't show it.

No sooner had Robert turned back to his brothers, pulling at his boots, a page entered the tent, worried looking. "My lord, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent request to speak with Lord Baratheon." At that some looks passed between Robert and Lord Jon, before the latter bid them enter as Robert stood there in his hose. As they came through the flaps, he noticed Oswell having a platter with bread and salt on his hand, a small smile playing up on his lips as he saw a great lord in such a state of undress while Ser Dayne looked a little abashed before regaining that neutral stoney look that he was known to have at all times. Soon as the "My Lords" and "Sers" and "Welcomes" and "Well met" passed between them, Ser Oswell began, "I bid you welcome on the behalf of my brother, Lord Robert," pushing the platter forward, which Robert partook, rather hungrily, grabbing a bigger piece of bread than was proper, "My brother meant to no offence in not greeting you. But the king had demanded his presence at the time you came and he is still in talks with him."

"None taken, good Ser. I'm sure I'll meet your brother and his family in good time."

"Let's get to the matter at hand, my lord," said Ser Arthur, "How comes the stew?"

"Not one to beat around the bush, are you, Ser Dayne?" Robert said as he plomped back down on the chair with an audible sigh, then looked to Lord Jon, who now had a deathly serious look. He looked about the tent, Renly and Ser Denys looking just as confused as he was, while a worried look came over Bryce Caron, and the smile was gone from the face of Ser Whent.

A short while later, Lord Jon gave a small nod, that brought a smug look on satisfaction to Robert's face while it seemingly eased those of Bryce Caron and the White Cloaks. With that Robert turned back to the Sword of Morning, "It comes. One great cook has already given his assent."

"And the rest?"

"Will give in due time I'm sure. But the stew will need those Dornish spices."

"Spices that Prince Oberyn assures me will be brought. But what of the veritable army of cooks you brought outside?" That was Whent.

"They know where their bread is baked and buttered. They'll follow the lead. Besides, show a little caution good Sers, there are bugs and spiders and little birds abound that will spoil our stew before it's even brought to a boil."

"Tis' so?" Asked Whent.

"Tis so." Said Lord Jon, in a tone that ended whatever they were discussing.

"Well then, we ask your leave my Lords," said Ser Whent turning about, before turning back, "Oh and before I forget Princess Rhaenys calls upon her cousins. She seems eager for whatever toys you brought this time, Lord Robert." And exiting the tent thereafter.

"Well then, make yourselves presentable post haste," Robert said, turning to him and Renly, still standing in his hose, "After all, it won't do to keep the Royals waiting."

Whatever scheme Robert had gotten himself into this time, Stannis knew from their shrouded language, wasn't as benign as his other schemes.

A/N: Robert did foster with Ned and Jon Arryn for nine-ish years till the incident at Shipbreaker bay. Wiki says that since an early age Robert was fostered at Eyrie. Considering Ned remember them throwing oranges at people, they couldn't have been more than 6-7 years old. So they did have a pretty strong friendship before the Shipbreaker bay incident happened, after which Robert decided to stay back, as a Lord must be with his people, and sent Renly and Stannis instead. Both do keep writing to each other and you'll see Ned's reaction soon enough. As for the betrothal between him and Lyanna, this is something that is a matter of contention between Robert and the Starks in Winterfell.

Also, while I'm mostly following book cannon mixed with some fannon and fan theories, two change that are there is that, a) Renly was born a little early in 273 AC, not the cannon's 277 AC, thus his comment on being 'big now', so he is older that what he would have been during the time of the tourney, but is still so far away from majority that he'll still be considered a boy for all intents and purposes, and b) Steffon and Cassana Baratheon died in 275 AC not 278 AC. So Robert has had some time to get his grip on Stormlands and Pursue his projects. He was also there with a small host during the Defiance. I am mentioning this here because it will be important, but I'm falling to work it into the chapters without it being forced.