Chapter 5

I found myself struggling to think. I had diverged from canon twice, in major ways. Characters who were dead were alive now. I had killed Varys. Whatever knowledge I had of the timeline, it was gone. Maybe the Greyjoy Rebellion would happen, though I wasn't even certain of that anymore.

Nothing was certain, and I was off the deep end now. Still, with Lyanna alive, that meant I needed to consider how I wanted to go about this. She had her son, which was unsurprising - I arrived after she was pregnant, to my reckoning. Still, it was good to know I wasn't in some divergent canon. It was a good sign. The death of Arthur was bad, of course, but unsurprising - if anyone was going down with the ship, so to speak, it would have been him. Gerold was surprising and Oswell not so much - his family was on the side of the Rebels, so seeing an honorable out, he probably took it. Or maybe he would serve, I had no idea what his motives were yet.

I needed to think hard about this. If my plan at the Great Council went well, none of Aerys' line would be a threat to me, since they would be attainted on suspected madness. Still, Jon, as I was referring to him till I knew his true name, was a male - which in Westeros meant more than, for example, Rhaenys, who would have few supporters outside of Dorne. Part of me thought with a wry smile that now Lyanna had a bastard of her own. I think she still had less than me - Bella should be born… soon.

The rest of me was considering the road ahead of me. Perhaps I forgot to mention it, but we were heading out for the Great Council. The road was still fresh up here at the head of the column, where the knights and lords rode, resplendent in their finery. It was less pleasant for the men in the back, since the drizzle last night left the road churned and muddy by the time the rest of us had passed. Still, it was a good test of my new men's capability, and so far they were taking the march well. There were fifty of them with me to match Tywin's fifty. The rest of the army and a handful of commanders whose votes would not be missed were left behind in King's Landing, to make sure no one took the opportunity to swoop in on it. Plan for treachery, hope for peace, that was my motto at this point.

For the next month or so, Lords would trickle in from the corners of the kingdom, arriving to place their votes. I wanted to be at the head of the column, to sway as many of the early arrivals as possible, mostly Rivermen due to their proximity to Harrenhal, but it was a good opportunity regardless - Rhaegar had his portion of supporters along the Trident, after all.

Something churned in me at thinking of the Prince, and over and over flashed the image of rubies flying in the wind, darkly satisfied at the thought. I was considering the Great Council again.

The Targaryens had had plenty of loyalists at the start of the war, but I was banking on offering peace and stability to the lords there, as well as making deals to bring the largest factions in, like those around the Martells and Tyrells. The only real option other than me was Viserys, who was about seven at this time and would mean a regency of ten or so years. The last long Regency had been a time of discontent and strife, as I recalled.

Hopefully they would choose another Jaehaerys rather than an Aegon the third. I needed to make sure things were swayed that way, and I was willing to make my deals where I had to.

We rode on. The outriders I sent forward ahead of the main column every day mentioned on the fourth day of marching that they had seen one of the nearby villages burning, but the raiders had moved with quick discipline, mounting their horses and moving in the opposite direction. Part of me suspected that Tywin was involved - his was the only other army in the area - but with no proof of bandits or sigils, I simply resolved to keep the men aware and alert, and considered discussing it with Tywin once we actually arrived.

Tywin's motives were not hard to understand; he wanted his daughter on the throne, he wanted to be tied to the Royal family in order to put to rest whatever petty grudge Rhaegar's refusal of Cersei had caused in the prideful lion. So I resolved to tell Ned to navigate by ship, and to send the few ships we had on hand to escort them properly.

My bride to be would not fall prey to 'pirates,' not if I had anything to say about the bloody thing. I admit I was personally quite flawed when it came to the whole Lyanna situation; Robert's emotions were strong when it came to her, and I wanted to make sure that Jon was close by. I hoped he had been named something else, having two Jons in close proximity would make things confusing.

Still, we marched on, the formation proudly flying the crowned stag banner to ward off the 'bandits', and we made good time. It was a fine test for the men, and the miles went by in easy silence as I dozed lightly in my saddle, since Tywin didn't seem intent on chatting.

So the days passed, with little news from the south. Hopefully this time Ashara didn't kill herself, though I had no idea whether anything I changed would help. Until we reached Harrenhal there was little news - we were making our way along a stretch between the crownlands and Riverlands that had few forts, let alone proper castles.

Eventually we arrived at the gates of Harrenhal. Lord Whent was there, a man who was once tall but now seemed stooped by stress and war. He bowed politely, and I returned an incline of my head, careful to keep it respectful but not deferential. I needed to project regality as much as possible in the coming days. My guards helped a good deal, their shiny new equipment - helpfully paid for by appropriating what remained of Aerys' treasury - showing my power and prestige to all those assembled in the courtyard. In a feudal system, little symbols like that were valuable. They were all well fed as well, having bought supplies for them from the Riverlands and ordered them to carry their rations in packs, to reduce the baggage trains. Frankly, those two things would impress any martially minded Lord, though Robert's general physique and prowess would have impressed them already anyway.

I was thinking again about Stannis. I had asked him to ensure that Storm's End was secured and then meet me here at Harrenhal. He would probably arrive within the week. I had been carefully considering my words for him. I would need to present myself as a dutiful king, needing honest and competent men at court to keep the corrupt, scheming Lords at bay. Something like that would appeal to Stannis, I hoped. I had time to refine it. I decided against discussing things with Tywin. If the men were his, he would know I was onto him; if they weren't, I would probably earn his ire, which meant the entire Westerlands bloc could be swayed away. Say what you will about the longevity of his methods after his death, but when he was alive none of the Westerlanders strayed a toe over the line.

So instead I set myself to carousing with the handful of Riverlords already there; Lord Whent, Lords Vance, Bend, Hart, and Wynn, the regent for young Lady Tidebreaker, voting in lieu of the four year old girl; Sers Borrel and Sweetspring; Lord Buckwheat and Winewater, whose dispute over a village would earn me the vote of one and the ire of the other; I went with Winewater, since he had a better beard. It seemed as good a metric as any, at this point.

I was frankly surprised by the amount of lords already present, many of whom I'd not heard of in the books. I had to assume that these must have been lesser lords under greater lords, since I'd only heard of Vance and Whent. It was also at this time that I sought out Lord Whent's Maester, sending and receiving several letters. Stannis was en route, according to Cortnay Penrose, while Ned told me how things went in Starfall; Arthur's body had been returned, men had been sent to retrieve the other bodies, and Lyanna was recovering well for the longer trip ahead, though he warned me that her shame over the entire ordeal ran deep. Apparently she had gone willingly with Rhaegar at first but after learning of her brother and father's arrests and then murder, she had tried to leave and was forced to stay.

I also got a brief, terse description of the fight at the Tower of Joy in my lovely little timeline. "Whent came over easily enough, and Hightower eventually relented, but Dayne went down fighting. Killed two good men. Hightower managed to bring him down, was wounded for his efforts."

The last thing that Ned told me was that Ashara was furious with Arthur for refusing a pardon. Most of the things he wrote about Ashara were in short, stilted script. I wondered if he still held feelings for her, even with his wife far in the north, pregnant with Robb. Regardless of if he did, I knew Ned wouldn't act on it. He was too good a man.

So the week passed. I exchanged letters with Ned one more time before he left for Sunspear. This one said that the stress and grief had caused Ashara to give birth a couple of weeks early. The final line read, The babe's name is Elia.

Then I heard the deep, thrumming tones of a horn. Making my way out of the Rookery, I managed to get up on top of the wall just in time to see a column of weary, worn men bearing the banner of the crowned stag making their way inside. Stannis had brought a frugal guard of twenty men, enough to scare off bandits without leaving Storm's End significantly weakened. I snorted at the thought, then made my way below to greet my erstwhile brother. He would either be my closest ally or my worst foe, after all.

He didn't look like he did on the show. Of course, that was close to twenty years from now, but even so, his hair was a deep dark black - not thick and rich like mine or Renly's, of course, but he had the other characteristics of a Baratheon - tallness, blue eyes that bordered on pale, like an iceberg, thick across the shoulders. Hopefully not too thick in the head.

"Stannis," I said with a gentle upturn of my lips. Careful to play the dutiful but still jovial king, I took his hand and brought him in for a brief embrace. "You did well during the siege." I put a hand up to stop his mouth opening. "You were merely doing your duty, I know. But that still deserves congratulations, especially in an age where men are more often ambitious than dutiful. That's why I called you here, after all." I explained, beckoning my hand to where I had called the guards to assemble, held in a tight formation. "Tell me what you see."

Stannis worked his jaw for a moment. "Soldiers. What is this about, Robert?" He asked, his tone annoyed.

"Not soldiers," I said with a smile. "Guards. There will be two thousand of them at the least. Efficient, capable, dutiful men, lacking only one thing - an incorruptible leader capable of helping me destroy the rot in King's Landing. Who better to lead them than my brother, forged in the crucible of a long, terrible siege? Who else could I trust to ensure that my own guards are not swayed by court intrigues?" I wondered aloud, turning to look at the guards for a long moment.

"So you are making me a glorified sergeant at arms?" Stannis said. Christ, he took everything the wrong way. I would need to work that chip out of his shoulder. I turned back to him.

"No. Just as Jon is my hand in politics and diplomacy, you would serve as my hand in the realm of martial matters, leading my armies where I cannot, ensuring peace in the realm. I would have no other man by my side, but if you do not want this duty, I will not force it on you. You can take up governing the Stormlands in my stead, though I will warn you it is not a hereditary position by nature. Still, I think that this position would do you good. You are like iron, Stannis. You will break before you bend, and that quality is not as helpful as it should be in governing lands; but that uncompromising nature would serve you well in forging these men into true steel." I offered him a pleading look.

"I have never known you to care about duty before," Stannis said, but his voice was soft, dangerously so.

"And that was wrong of me. But after this council is done, I will be King, and with it comes a duty to the realm that cannot be ignored. I will need able men, by my side." I offered him a considering look. "Like you."

Stannis stood there for a while, eyes boring in to me. Finally he nodded mutely, turning away. "Good." I said. "Feel free to acquaint yourself with the men. They are the first of many, and I plan for them to be your subordinates in leading the men." I nodded to him. "I will leave you to it for now. Meet me in my solar after we dine tonight, and I'll explain the duties and responsibilities involved."

Once I had walked off, I allowed myself to breathe out fully. I had been a bit tense the entire meeting with Stannis. Thankfully it seemed he had been swayed, though I would never know his true thoughts if he was displeased with his new duty regardless.

I spent the rest of the day going through the motions, allowing Robert's natural charisma to ooze through as I met with several other lords who had arrived. My plans were instead on Stannis. I was fairly sure he would be pleased with the job once he settled in, and I was hoping to arrange a fine match for him as the crown prince once I was acclaimed King. My thoughts went to Davos instead. He was an excellent navigator by all rights, and I was considering commissioning him as the first leader of my expeditions east. I had done some vague sketches of a triangular sail and the body of a caravel based on what I remembered from various games and books I had enjoyed. I did know that you could create compass iron by touching it to a lodestone, which I was pretty sure was a meteorite or something. I would figure it out by asking a maester. Someone knocked on the door. "Come in," I called.

Stannis entered, looking around the solar for a moment before returning his attention to me. "Robert," He said, his tone calm. I beckoned for him to sit.

I spent close to thirty minutes laying out his duties and responsibilities, discussing my ideas for mixed unit formations and tactics, rankings, the like, before I found myself without anything further to say on that front. Stannis had kept mostly quiet, nodding along as I went with his brows furrowed.

I leaned back in the chair. "And that's the long and short of it. Though that's not all I called you in for." I explained.

Stannis quirked his brow, and said nothing.

"You make this no fun," I grumbled. "The smuggler who saved you. Davos, wasn't it? What can you tell me about his capabilities as a navigator?"

"Seaworth," He said, stressing the syllable. So he had already earned his knighthood. "Is a very capable navigator. The Redwyne blockade seemed entirely impassable, but he managed to sneak past. It was his supplies that allowed us to survive the last month of the siege."

"Seaworth, right. I hope to employ Ser Seaworth in an endeavour of mine," I explained. "I want to build a new fleet of trading ships and send them east to trade along the southern edge of Essos, eventually bringing back plenty of wealth from Yi Ti. It would provide a valuable source of income to fund many of the new ideas I have for the kingdom. What do you think?"

"Why are you asking me?" Stannis seemed annoyed and confused.

"Because I meant what I said about you serving as my right hand. And because you know Ser Seaworth better than I do."

"He would be remiss to leave his wife and children behind for the length of such a journey," Stannis said after a long moment.

"I would offer him two fiftieths of the wealth brought back." I explained.

Stannis nodded slowly. "It is not a terrible idea. Having wealth from the outside coming in would mean you would not be so tethered to the lords."

"I agree. It would allow me independence enough and the ability to monopolize precious goods they may want. A king is stronger the less he has to rely on his lords for his swords and his wealth. Hence the guards," I said, beckoning below where they were bunking.

"I suppose." Stannis considered me for several long seconds, the candlelight flickering in the corner casting shadows on his eyes. "When did you ever learn to care about duty? The brother I knew only cared about wine and women."

"I learned a hard lesson during the war, Stannis. I promise I am not the same foolish brother who mocked you."

Stannis looked strangely grim then, but the look passed after a moment and went back to his normal, clenched-jaw scowl.

So it went, the days passing quickly. I caroused with more lords, attempting to offer them incentives. My real coup de grace came when I managed to win over a bloc of voters along the Mander with a promise of a project that would greatly increase commerce for them - that project being a canal connecting the Mander and the Blackwater. I had considered the maps and there was perhaps twenty miles between the two, though I would narrow it down with some surveys once I was crowned.

There were moments of great turbulence, of course. When the Dornish arrived, a few knights in the service of the Martells got in a fight with some Westerlanders. I managed to calm things down, but there was underlying resentment between the two. While they bore little for me since I offered them justice swiftly, I doubted I would be able to foster good ties between those two regions any time soon.

The moment of greatest tension for me came a week before the council was to start. The Targaryen delegation arrived, if one could call it that; represented by a heavily pregnant Queen Dowager Rhaella and my young cousin and main rival for the throne, Viserys. The Queen looked deathly tired, and when her eyes fell on me a cold chill spread across them that made me want to stand up and leave. I didn't, instead battling her will, but it was a close thing. There would be no kindness between either of us, not after I had killed her firstborn son personally.

Part of me quietly hoped she would perish of childbirth like in canon. The gods were not likely to be so kind, but it was a pleasant dream anyway.

Viserys was a different case. After asking one of the pages in my retinue to play with him, I got an honest if unsophisticated assessment of him; he was playful and funny, but sometimes when my page did something he didn't like an angry shadow passed over his face, and when they got in a scuffle the other boy had seemed intent on hurting him.

The days passed even quicker after that, my diplomacy becoming more frenetic as I tried to pull various blocs towards me. I pulled the Martells in with the offer of fostering Rhaenys after the council was done, though the Yronwoods had gone with Rhaella instead. Clearly the antagonism there was still fresh. I had to work doubly hard, as Rhaella worked quickly to snap up what opportunities she could.

The week passed in a flash. The lords assembled within the Hall of a Thousand Hearths, the tables placed on the sides and plenty of chairs set down for the hundreds, perhaps low thousands present.

I found myself stood at the doors in front of the hall, my finest velvets and satin in black trimmed with gold. Wrapped around my shoulders was a cloak in my colors, fine velvet trimmed with black fur from god knows what animal. I was awaiting the signal from the guard inside, who would knock when I was announced as a candidate.

I was checking the clasp on the cloak for the fiftieth time when the knock came. Drawing in a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and pushed the doors open, striding in with as confident a walk as I could get. I felt like a peacock for a long moment as faces turned to look at me.

Then came the swelling cheer from my supporters, and I felt my confidence growing.

I would win this, dammit.