He had ridden into the Red Keep a thousand times before, but never as one of the commanders in an invading army.
Wary, hostile eyes stared from the place he had called home for years, as he led his men into the courtyard through the gate they had just destroyed. In the courtyard, a large number of the defenders were slain, the crows already pecking, and the smell of battle hung thick in the air. This castle that hadn't seen such destruction in fifteen years, not since Tywin Lannister had sacked the city.
Loreon had been part of the force sent straight to the keep once the city gates fell, however when Lord Tarly had taken a severe arrow wound to the gut, it had been up to him to take over the whole force. It had been under his command that the castle had fallen.
He couldn't deny that he could hardly wait for the sweet moment where Cersei Lannister and her vile son were dragged out before Stannis, who would not show them a scrap of mercy. Though Loreon knew taking both their heads wasn't the best course of action from a diplomatic perspective, his protests that they should at least send Cersei to the Silent Sisters had been half-hearted at best.
He would make sure Stannis spared Tommen, though. The boy - his cousin, if not his brother - did not deserve to die, even if he was sentenced to a lifetime at the Wall or the Citadel. Myrcella too; she could become a septa, or perhaps she might be able to quietly retire to Casterly Rock and marry a minor knight.
Though tempted to leave the visor down on his helm, weary from battle as he was, Loreon ultimately lifted it. They needed to look upon him, to see the face behind the huge figure in the scratched and dented grey armour. Loreon Storm, lord of Storm's End rather than King Robert's bastard.
Having already instructed men to search the entire castle, making sure all the defenders were subdued and the false king contained, he allowed himself a moment to take a breath, something he hadn't done since waking up that morning. Too busy thinking, fighting, commanding half an army. But now with the other lords arriving, he was not so essential in command.
They had won the city. He smiled faintly at the thought, as the reality sunk in for the first time. They'd taken King's Landing, won Stannis' throne from Joffrey, something that only months ago seemed unthinkable.
They had suffered grievous losses taken by their fleet on the Blackwater. The use of wildfire was an unforeseen blow, and whoever had thought up that chain blocking the escape back out to sea truly was a cold bastard. One of Ser Davos Seaworth's sons had been killed when his ship was blown up, as had many other good men.
Storming the city by land had been practically easy in comparison to attacking from the river. The city watch and the meagre remains of the Lannister army left here might have been a more formidable foe if they hadn't been dealing with attacks from half the smallfolk in the city at the time. Lady Bolton's idea had been even more devastating to the Lannisters than the wildfire had been to their ships.
As the city shut its gates in preparation for a siege a couple of weeks ago, Loreon had sent a dozen spies ahead of the army, entering the city with the last lot of scared farmers. Their task was to spread tales of all the food and provisions that the Baratheons and their allies were bringing with them, and that King Stannis would freely share it out once he won his throne.
This claim was shown to be true when the Baratheon army arrived with wagons full of food. Stannis himself had announced to the defenders on the walls that once the city renounced their false king, he would ensure they were fed. He also promised that there would be no sacking of the city, perhaps the only man in the kingdoms who would see that his men did exactly as he said with regard to that.
Word clearly spread despite Cersei and Tyrion's efforts to contain it. To an already starving and dissatisfied city, this was the spark that lit the flames. As the full army assembled outside the walls, rioting within them increased.
Angry smallfolk could do little to Cersei and Joffrey shut away in the Red Keep, but in the heat of battle, it meant the goldcloaks were set upon not only by the attacking army, but also from within their own walls. Dissatisfied citizens of King's Landing threw stones at defenders on the walls, beat them with crude weapons, and cheered as Baratheon men rode through the gates, storming up Aegon's High Hill to the Red Keep.
One thing that had had them on edge throughout - and was still a concern, if Loreon was honest - was the possibility of the Tyrells allying with the Lannisters. They would have sustained far more serious losses, if the Tyrells had come up behind them and attacked, and even now, with half the city gates broken in, their position wasn't exactly the most secure.
There was no sign of green banners on the horizon yet, however. Perhaps they had kept up Renly's slow crawl of a march to see how the battle turned out the form an alliance with the winner, which would be rather characteristic. And smart too, if the king had been anyone other than Stannis. He would never forgive the actions of Mace Tyrell during the Rebellion, feasting underneath the walls of Storm's End, though might have held them in less disdain if they had joined him immediately and helped win his throne.
Either way, the Tyrells weren't here for the moment, which was all that mattered. With Lord Tywin trapped in the west by Robb Stark - and Loreon could have kissed Renan Snow for making sure they heard that wonderful piece of news (which had been rather soured by the news that came afterwards, but he was trying not to think about that) - there were no other immediately pressing threats.
"My lord!" One of the knights from Storm's End ran up to him, and Loreon looked up.
"By the look on your face, you've got nothing good to tell me," He said. "Is that why you haven't gone straight to the king?"
"If anyone knows how to soften this blow, it's you," The man grimaced.
"Well out with it, then,"
"We can't find the king anywhere," He said, hastily correcting himself. "Joffrey. We can't find Joffrey, or Cersei, or Tommen," Loreon fought the urge to curse, instead closing his eyes briefly, taking a breath, before speaking.
"Are you sure?" He ground out, trying to keep his tone level. "Have you searched the whole castle? At least three times?" They needed Joffrey's head on a spike, so he wouldn't be a rallying point for any sympathisers who truly believed him the son of Robert Baratheon, or any ambitious climbers happy to pretend they did.
"Yes, my lord," The man nodded apologetically. I'll never tire of hearing that. "No sign of them. Nor of Ser Ilyn Payne. We did find the Imp, though, and we've been told one of his guards is missing, a sellsword. I suppose the Imp instructed Payne and this man Bronn to escape with his sister and nephews while he posed a distraction," That's uncharacteristically selfless, Tyrion. His uncle might have done that for his younger sister, but not the elder.
"We have the city surrounded," Loreon snapped. "Send men out to look for them, as many as you can spare. They can't have gone far," Cersei would hardly be the best at a daring escape given she never travelled anywhere without her two-storey wheelhouse, and Joffrey was incapable of following instructions from anyone, let alone a humble sellsword.
"Yes, my lord," The man made to leave.
"And have Tyrion brought to me as soon as possible,"
"I'm afraid that's not possible," He stopped, turning back. "He somehow ended up leading a sortie," He nodded at the incredulous look Loreon gave him. "It ended as you'd expect. The Imp is currently with a maester, not likely to be conscious for days at least,"
He nodded and waved the man away, the urge to punch a wall in frustration drowning out the concern he felt for his youngest uncle. Gods, he wasn't looking forward to telling Stannis that Joffrey had escaped. Though by all the reports Loreon had received, the new king was currently surrounded by adoring smallfolk - fighting and shoving each other to be first in line for the food wagons - as he tried to make his way to the keep, which was rather amusing. Hopefully that would give him time to come up with what to say, at least.
Whilst Loreon couldn't pretend it wasn't a blow the bastard king and his mother had slipped through their fingers, he was rather glad that Tommen had got away. Otherwise he really would've had to fight to stop his uncle taking the boy's head along with Joffrey and the queen's. It would be difficult enough arguing for Tyrion's life; it likely helped that the man was badly injured, for even Stannis wouldn't order the death of someone who couldn't open their eyes.
He was dragged out of his thoughts by someone shouting his name.
"Loreon!" The slender dark blur ran towards him the moment she recognised him. For a moment he thought the girl was going to barrel right into his horse, but she stopped dead a short distance away.
"Lady Bolton," He smiled genuinely at Ren's sister, dismounting his horse to greet her, but she was looking back through the crowd of soldiers impatiently.
"Oh, where is she? Sansa!" The tall redheaded girl followed at a more sedate pace than her cousin, accompanied by the soldiers he had sent to find them both.
"Lady Stark," Loreon greeted her, wondering where the younger girl was, Arya.
"My lord," The girl bobbed a flawless curtsey. "Congratulations on your victory. We are very grateful for you taking the city,"
"You don't have to talk like that anymore," Morganna Bolton rolled her eyes, turning back to Loreon and ignoring Sansa's protest of 'I always talk like that'. "I heard Cersei and Joffrey got away,"
The tone was rather accusatory, and that unimpressed look made her look like her mother. Perhaps she could be practice for facing Stannis, and Rosennis herself; the woman would hardly be enthused with joy at the news the boy that killed her brother had escaped.
"I'm as unhappy about that as you are," He said. "Forgive me, my lady. I would've singlehandedly scaled the walls and captured them myself, but I was rather busy at the time, trying to lead an army in breaking the gates,"
"Ren could've done it," She smiled then, wickedly, an abrupt change in expression. "He did kidnap your mother from her own bedchamber, remember,"
Yes, Loreon did remember that. Ren's actions were the reason he and Lady Rosennis hadn't spoken for at least three days the previous week.
He had heard the news from a messenger as they made camp for the night, and seen red, marching up to Ren's mother as she rode into the camp. She had taken one look at his furious expression and before he'd even opened his mouth, Lady Bolton had got her own, sharply delivered and less than sensitive words in.
There are worse people who your mother could be in the hands of during a war... He's hardly going to mistreat her... He needs her unharmed to trade for the girls. Most notable was perhaps; Get that look off your face and act like a lord, rather than an angry little boy.
She had promptly continued on her way, but that hadn't stopped Loreon from demanding she write to her son telling him to return Lady Giana, grabbing the bridle of her horse when she ignored him. The skittish animal had immediately reared, and he was forced to jump back to avoid flailing hooves as she calmed the beast down, unfazed by the horse but glaring at him.
What are you going to do, kidnap me? Her words had been filled with remarkable disdain, and made him feel more foolish than anyone had in years. Remember who your allies are, Storm.
He had known all along that the woman made sense, but that didn't make him any less furious. Loreon's temper was the most Baratheon trait he possessed, and given Ren was half a kingdom away, he'd had to take it out on whoever was fool enough to spar with him that evening.
He and Lady Rosennis had ignored each other for a good few days after that. Both had realised how stupid that was soon enough, at around the same time. Though neither had actually apologised, one day it was simply as though the argument had never happened, and things were better for it.
Now Loreon found himself faced with the woman's daughter, laughing at him for exactly the same reason he had quarrelled with her mother.
"Yes, oddly enough I do remember," He smiled at the girl, knowing she wanted a reaction. "As far as I know, Ren knows of no tunnels under the Red Keep to sneak in through in the night and drag Joffrey out," Though that would be worth checking, just in case. This place had lots of secrets.
"I do," Morganna shrugged. "There's tunnels all over the keep. I spent my nights here exploring them," She caught the look on his face. Why in hells wasn't that the first thing you mentioned? "No, I thought of that, but I never found one out of the castle. Most of them are tiny besides - I barely got through some. Cersei would never fit, let alone Bronn and Ilyn Payne,"
"Cersei said she'd have Ser Ilyn kill us all if you won," Sansa said, clearly still disturbed after the events of the past day and night. Even Loreon had been horrified at the sight of the river exploding, aflame with green light. "Herself, Tommen, Joffrey, me and Morganna. So King Stannis doesn't get any satisfaction from taking the city,"
"At least she's gone, even if she's not dead," Morganna muttered darkly before Loreon could say anything to that. "At least I don't have to put up with any more of her madness," She turned to him. "Is my mother here?"
"She was at the edge of the battle when I rode out," He said. "But I doubt she stayed there, once it was clear we were winning," He narrowed his eyes across the courtyard, his height giving him an advantage. "If I'm not mistaken, that's her at the gate,"
"I can't see," Morganna was short to see over the heads of the soldiers. "Lift me up," Laughing at her request, Loreon obliged, picking the girl up by the waist and lifting her high enough that she had a better view. Though tall for her age, she hardly weighed anything at all.
Morganna's eyes lit up at the sight of the thin woman riding through the numerous soldiers towards them, flanked by her guards; all but two of them had fought in the battle, including Lady Mormont. Brienne and Perwyn Frey had guarded their lady.
Lady Rosennis picked them out of the crowd. She didn't gallop over sobbing or anything so dramatic, but did swing gracefully off the horse before it had even stopped moving, leaving a guard to take up the reins as she walked swiftly towards her daughter.
"Morganna," She hesitated slightly, but the girl did not, flinging her arms around her mother, whom she was near as tall as now. The woman stiffened for half a second before relaxing, embracing the girl wordlessly. For just a moment, her ever-guarded expression slipped, and Loreon saw the relief on her face, a small smile.
"Auntie," Sansa looked slightly unsure as the woman glanced at her, but that smile remained, and Lady Rosennis took her hand in hers for a moment before releasing it, a warm gesture even if it wasn't quite the embrace she'd given her own daughter.
"Lord Storm," She turned to Loreon then, hand still on her daughter's shoulder, and her smile was gone in the blink of an eye. "I heard Joffrey escaped with his mother," Another accusatory look.
"I believe Tyrion arranged their escape, but was too busy leading a sortie to go with them," Loreon grimaced. "He's unconscious, so we can't ask him,"
"Were they that desperate for men?" She raised an eyebrow, but he did see a flash of concern in her eyes. He knew she had liked Tyrion, whenever she visited the Red Keep.
"Sandor Clegane deserted," He noticed how Sansa and Morganna shared an odd look at that. "No doubt it was the only way to rally the men,"
"Hm," He had never heard so much disapproval in one short syllable. Clearly she wasn't satisfied, but realised the crowded courtyard wasn't the place for that conversation. Rosennis gestured behind her, changing the subject. "Can my men be housed in the keep?"
"I'm sure rooms can be found for the knights," Loreon said. "And your men can sleep in the barracks. Lady Brienne, I'm sure arrangements can be made - "
"You're a woman," All eyes turned to Morganna as she stared at Brienne, who shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm glad to see that you've remembered your manners during your time in the south," Lady Bolton raised a sharp eyebrow, and the girl grinned unapologetically. "This is Lady Brienne of Tarth. She's in my service now, having been a member of Renly's Kingsguard. Brienne, this is my delightful youngest daughter, Morganna," Her tone was dry.
"Lady Morganna," Brienne nodded politely, though still looked awkward. Loreon suspected that pretty twelve year old girls were among some of the cruellest for mocking her. He'd noticed that Brienne was suspicious even of basic courtesy; given how she'd been treated in the past, it was likely unusual to expect even that, let alone anyone treating her kindly.
"A pleasure. My lady," Morganna bobbed a curtsey, still grinning, though there didn't seem to be any malice in her smile.
Their conversation was cut short by a flurry of activity near the broken gate. Stannis had arrived at last.
The new king didn't look as cheerful as one might expect from a man who had just won his kingdom, but there was satisfaction in his eyes nonetheless even as he snapped orders impatiently. Loreon's uncle wanted that throne, badly, no matter how much he told others and himself that it was just for duty. This victory was a sweet one for them all.
Seeing Stannis Baratheon ascend the steps of the throne and seat himself amongst the blades and barbs was a sight he had at one point thought he might never see. An iron king for the Iron Throne. Loreon's uncle glowered down at them all, but looked every inch a ruler.
The man was still the same as ever despite winning his crown, though, so of course the moment the pomp and ceremony in the throne from was over, they convened in the small council chambers, and Stannis turned to him with a clenched jaw.
"The Lannister woman escaped," He was clearly far from pleased. Why everyone thought that Loreon was to blame for that was beyond him. "And her incestuous brats. Pretenders to my throne,"
"I sent as many men as could be spared to look for them, your Grace," He said. "They can't have gotten far,"
"And what if they escaped by sea?" His uncle demanded. "We've hardly got a ship to send after them," While that was true, it very unlikely they'd left that way. Loreon doubted that Cersei and Joffrey would have made it through the streets to the docks, with the smallfolk screaming for the heads and Baratheon soldiers swarming through every gate. Even if they did, they would have had to sail up a river that even now was still on fire, and clogged with burning ships and dead bodies. Then they'd have had to somehow jump that wretched chain.
"If none of the riders I sent out return with Joffrey and Cersei, then they're likely still in the castle," He said. "There's tunnels networking all through the keep. They could be huddled away somewhere, hiding until things calm down and they can attempt an escape,"
That ran the risk of being found, of course. If he knew Tyrion, his uncle would have found a way to get them as far away as possible. They must have left during the siege, the moment it became clear they were going to lose, giving them a head start. In which case, the riders would bring them back within the week.
Stannis nodded at that.
"Very well," He said, though hardly looked happy. "But I want those traitors found, and soon," Loreon nodded, grateful that there were other pressing matters to discuss.
"Of course, your Grace,"
The conversation quickly moved on.
"I've had word sent to Dragonstone of our victory," His uncle said. "Queen Selyse and Princess Shireen will be brought here as soon as the river is clear," Loreon couldn't help but catch the slight grimace Lady Rosennis gave at his words; given an official small council hadn't been selected yet, this first meeting was simply everyone who had been on the war councils before, which explained her presence.
As they left the council chambers after everything was finished, he brought the matter up with her, mainly in jest.
"I shouldn't have been so obvious," She smiled faintly. "Your dear Aunt Cersei once said that I should get along very well with Lady Selyse. I did not appreciate the implications,"
"You're nothing like that woman, trust me," Loreon lowered his voice, leaning down so only she could hear. "Less of a moustache," Rosennis smirked at that.
"I should hope so,"
In the next few days, Loreon was present as Stannis began to mould King's Landing more to his liking. First of all was the small council. Alester Florent was made Hand of the King, a good choice that appeased the Reachmen and also undermined the Tyrells, who were still suspiciously quiet.
Littlefinger was gone, sent to bargain with the Arryns and marry Lady Lysa, becoming Lord Protector of the Vale on behalf of the Lannisters before the threat of the battle had thrown things into uncertainty. Stannis had little love for the man, and appointed a Stormlord, Lord Buckler, as Master of Coin in his place.
Varys hadn't been seen since the battle, a wise decision given the new king's distrust of him. His position had yet to be filled. Renly, formerly Master of Laws, was dead; Stannis gave that job to Randyll Tarly. Pycelle was currently held in a tower cell, whilst they wrote to the citadel for a new Grand Maester, given this one was a Lannister lackey. Loreon anticipated that would be a long and drawn out affair, given how stubborn the maesters were with things like that.
All the members of the court and lords of the Crownlands were made to swear fealty before King Stannis as soon as possible, as he sat on the throne. Not one refused, knowing that the punishment for disloyalty would be death. None of them loved the Lannisters enough to die for them; even fear of Lord Tywin's wrath was not enough to inspire such loyalty.
The queen and the little princess arrived from Dragonstone once the river was clear of wreckage and corpses. Their reception with the people was mediocre, even though Stannis was actually proving popular (for now) given he - or more specifically, his Reachlords - had been providing them with food and provisions since he won the throne. Anything was better than the Lannisters at this point, to the starving city.
Loreon could see why the king's wife and daughter didn't receive the same, though. Shireen was a sweet girl, but not a pretty one; people saw the greyscale scars and little else. She was a sad child, hardly the bright and charismatic princess Myrcella had been. And as for Selyse, she couldn't have been more different from the last queen if she tried. The woman was plain-faced, thin, with a small moustache and large ears. She was also humourless, stern and very snobbish, eyeing the sailor that helped her disembark the ship with distaste, and gathering her daughter closer to her upon looking at the people of the city.
There was a feast that night, to welcome the queen's arrival and to celebrate their new alliance with the Tyrells, who had appeared about a week or so after the Blackwater claiming they intended to fight against the Lannisters all along but got delayed. Only after a great deal of persuasion on the part of Loreon and the other lords did Stannis accept the Tyrells oaths of fealty without executing Lord Mace for his past transgressions. Even then it was a very grudging acceptance.
It was very clear in the court that the Tyrells were not in favour, and not at all happy about it. Loreon wondered exactly what they had expected; to be welcomed with open arms? They were seated very far down the high table indeed. They should be grateful they made it even that far. Stannis had prioritised his allies, and minor lords of the Reach and Stormlands sat closer to the centre of the table, with Lady Rosennis sat beside Queen Selyse herself. Neither of them looked particularly pleased with this arrangement however.
Loreon sat on Rosennis' other side. In a way, he could see how people compared the two women at a first glance. Both dark haired, tall and thin. Both rather unsmiling, with a sharp voice. But Selyse had a meanness to her, and a certain brittle frailty, her face pinched and pallid. Her mindless devotion to Melisandre and the Red God was something Lady Bolton - the least easily led person Loreon had ever met - would scorn.
Rosennis was sharp rather than brittle, and had a quiet confidence that Selyse did not, like she had already lived through the worst already and nothing else could compare. She had that same attitude when it came to people, which her cutting remarks, bluntness and unimpressed looked made more than clear. This gave her a presence in any room, even if she was rarely the centre of attention.
And on another, rather shallow note - not to make it seem like he was eyeing up his friend's mother - but while she would never be a great beauty, Lady Bolton was not ugly, or even especially plain, which could not be said for Selyse.
Neither women were excellent conversationalists, making the feast rather stiff and uncomfortable. Loreon - on Rosennis' other side - tried to inspire some talk.
"The princess seems to have made friends with Lady Bolton, your Grace," He said, glancing at where Morganna was grinning as she spun a laughing Shireen around amongst the dancing lords and ladies. They made an odd pair to dance together, the beautiful girl who looked much older than her twelve years, with the sad, ugly child of ten, but he had never seen Shireen smile so wide.
His words did not have the intended effect.
"Can you not control your daughter?" Queen Selyse looked at Rosennis with some disdain. "Shireen has never acted so inappropriately before,"
"What exactly are they doing inappropriately?" Lady Bolton raised an eyebrow. She wasn't openly hostile, but Loreon recognised that tone, and that look. He cursed himself for trying to start a conversation between the two.
"Dancing like common village brats," The queen sniffed. Loreon doubted smallfolk children knew the graceful court dance Morganna was skilfully leading Shireen through. Perhaps it was the girls' laughter that was the problem. "Shireen is a princess, and must act accordingly. I don't want your daughter leading her astray," That wasn't an entirely unreasonable concern, but Loreon knew Morganna. Selyse did not. Rosennis' eyes narrowed.
"And how do you think she could do that by dancing at a royal feast, your Grace?" The queen clearly got the sarcasm, and scowled.
"I can tell when a girl is trouble," She said. "I don't like the look in your daughter's eyes,"
"You've been spending too much time staring into fires with your red fortune teller," Lady Bolton said flatly. Melisandre was not present at this feast; she had been invited, against Loreon's advice, but seemed to be making herself scarce recently and had declined. He wasn't sure of her reasons for that, but was hardly going to complain. "If she's led you to believe that you can tell a person's character at a glance into their eyes, you're being played for a fool,"
Loreon bit back a smirk, taking a gulp of wine to hide his amusement. Selyse had a moment of wide-eyed outrage, then scowled, drawing herself up like she no doubt imagined a dignified queen would. Rosennis' back was already straight.
"Melisandre is a priestess of the great god R'hllor," The queen said stiffly. "Not a common fortune teller. Though I would hardly expect a woman who follows the crude and savage wildling gods to understand the difference,"
"I've never heard of the Old Gods demanding men to be burnt alive," Rosennis said. "And I believe we were talking about my daughter. She is highborn on both sides, the blood of kings running through her veins. Is she not a suitable companion for the princess?" Selyse looked rather caught off guard that she wasn't backing down, and at her way of cutting straight to the point.
"You also have the blood of kings in your veins, Lady Bolton," The queen tried to gather herself with an air of haughty dignity, which only came across as awkward. "That does not equate to morality. Your daughter is trouble, though I suppose she isn't entirely to blame. She hardly had the best mother to learn from," Oh seven hells...
Loreon wished he'd never opened his mouth. How had such an innocuous comment turned into this mess? Lady Bolton was silent for a moment, then two, enough to make the queen shift slightly uncomfortably, and break the silence herself
"Don't act like you don't know I'm talking about your son,"
"Which son?" Rosennis finally spoke. The look in her eyes was cold, her voice even more so. "I have two of those, your Grace. Given the kingdoms are in dire need of an heir, perhaps you should try to achieve the same,"
With that, she promptly turned to talk to Loreon, who as a result bore the brunt of Selyse's furious scowl in response to that. Though perhaps that was because he had choked on his drink at the woman's final words to the queen, and was currently trying to pass off his laughter as a coughing fit. He doubted it was very convincing. Lady Bolton's lips twitching as she looked his way didn't do anything to help either.
"A dance, my lady?" He asked his friend's mother, doing his best to keep his voice level. The fact she agreed was a mark of how much grief she knew she'd caused for herself in for talking to the queen in such a way. Rosennis accepted his offered arm and followed him to the dance floor, both of them still biting back a smile.
"I berated my daughter earlier, for drawing unnecessary attention to herself when she was a hostage," She said as they paired up and began to move in time with the other dancing partners, though didn't seem to regret it much. "It doesn't pay to anger kings and queens without good reason, but it seems I'm hardly much better than a fearless girl of twelve," Her hair - loose, for once - was long enough that it brushed his hand on her waist.
"Our dear queen had it coming," Loreon shrugged, grinning as he spun her around according to the dance. She wasn't the most fluid or graceful dancer - too stiff and upright for that, and she clearly didn't dance often - but rarely put a step out of place. "No doubt she'll complain to Stannis, but I doubt he'd do more than make sure you weren't sat next to her at a feast again. He can't stand her any more than we can,"
Lady Rosennis laughed then. It was only a short laugh, but it was genuine, and lit up her long, sharp face, her grey eyes glinting in the candlelight. And suddenly the rumours Jaime Lannister fathered her bastard didn't seem so outlandish.
The rumour he heard the next morning in the training yard were another matter, however.
"Are you still drunk?" He asked Declan - a knight from Storm's End, one of his favourite sparring partners - in response to his ridiculous question.
"Maybe," The young man grinned. "Doesn't mean I didn't see the two of you dancing together, whispering all sorts of things to each other. That woman doesn't dance with anyone, nor does she laugh, but you got her to do both,"
"Lady Bolton agreed to dance to get away from Queen Selyse insulting her for having a bastard son," Loreon shook his head. "She was laughing at the expense of said queen," Besides, the woman scolded him like his own mother never had. Even the thought of what his friend was implying was just plain wrong.
"If you say so," The knight shrugged, looking rather disappointed that the truth was less exciting than the gossip. "I thought you might've done it to get back at Renan Snow,"
"You thought I'd lay with my friend's mother as revenge against him for kidnapping my own?" After all the wine he'd drunk last night, Loreon had no witty reply to that, simply shook his head in disbelief, raising his sword. "It's too early to deal with horseshit like this, just get on and fight,"
He hoped against hope that it was only simple-minded gossips like Declan even entertaining the idea of that particular rumour, and that Lady Bolton hadn't heard it. She'd survive if she did - her skin was thicker than that - but it wasn't exactly the kind of thing anyone wanted to hear. It'll be fine, so long as she doesn't think I started it...
Her invitation to him to meet in the Godswood that evening likely didn't help matters, but given she tended to only request his company when she had something important, Loreon didn't turn it down.
"I meant what I said last night to the queen," She said to him as they walked through the trees; her guards were stationed at the entrance, too far to hear. "The largest problem with Stannis as king is not only that his queen is a sour-faced harridan, but his only heir is a disfigured ten year old girl," That was harsh, but not entirely unfair. Loreon had been hearing whispers of the same thing everywhere ever since they'd won the city. "The kingdoms are unstable enough as it is, let alone if Shireen ever becomes queen,"
"My uncle's advisors have long given up trying to get him to share his wife's bed more than once a year," He said. "There's only so many years of being ignored anyone can take before they give up. Though I can't say I blame him,"
The woman smirked at that, face pale in the moonlight. Though Loreon had to gather his cloak more tightly around himself against the cold night air, her own billowed behind her, caught in the wind with her hair as they entered the godswood. She always seemed unbothered by the cold. Ren was the same.
"Doesn't being king put a little more pressure on the matter?"
"Not for him," He said. "I could raise the subject, but he'd only say something along the lines of 'people should follow Shireen because she would be their rightful queen and it's their duty',"
"I thought his Grace was an intelligent man?" Her dark eyebrow raised and Loreon chuckled.
"He just has... unrealistic expectations,"
"Hm," There was a pause. "Selyse is hardly the most... inviting of women. Perhaps the king would have more luck conceiving a son on another,"
"As if Stannis would break his marriage vows, let alone sire a bastard," The thought was laughable.
"I should have been more clear," Rosennis said, looking him in the eye. "Another wife," Loreon finally saw what she was trying to say.
"And who might that be, my lady?"
"Margaery Tyrell,"
He had thought that might be the case. Though the Tyrells might be slippery social climbers, they were also very rich, with a very large army and most importantly, a great deal of food and provisions. Given Stannis had treated them so far - fairly, but not best for diplomacy - they needed to give them an incentive to stick with their cause, other than the fact that their army was bigger than Tywin Lannister's. A daughter as queen was what it had taken to win the Tyrell's unwavering loyalty to Renly; there was nothing to say it wouldn't for Stannis.
And the king really did need a male heir, which he was hardly going to get from Selyse Florent. Knowing Stannis, there was nothing to say that he would be any more interested in the beautiful young Tyrell girl than his current wife, but Loreon knew Lady Margaery enough to imagine that if her husband didn't come to her bed, she would go to his, most likely at her grandmother's instruction.
There was one rather glaring issue with that plan, however.
"What of Lady Selyse?" The question hung heavy in the air. Both knew the answer to that, but neither wanted to say it aloud.
"There's plenty of steep staircases in the castle," Rosennis said with a grimace, clearly finding the idea distasteful despite her dislike for the woman. "Or perhaps the girth on her saddle wasn't checked, and breaks,"
"Of course, it would have to be a tragic accident,"
"Obviously," She shot him an irritated look. "Or else I'd go with the much easier option of sending a man in Stark colours to shoot her with a crossbow," He laughed despite himself, though quickly sobered.
"Do we need to act so drastically so quickly?" He asked, but already knew the answer. Already the lords were whispering at the lack of a male heir, at the unlikeliness of ever getting one. The Tyrells were dissatisfied with their lot here, and no doubt all kinds of plotting and scheming was going on already; in all honesty, if they didn't pick Selyse off themselves, Lady Olenna would arrange something just as fatal.
And it would only be for so long that Stannis' popularity was this high; neither he nor Selyse were exactly the types to inspire love and adoration amongst the people. A king like that needed a queen to balance him out, someone charming, beloved and beautiful.
"If you're unsure, this isn't going to work," Rosennis said quietly. "I'll never speak of this again if that's the case. But sacrifices must be made if you want a stable realm," He was silent for a moment, but had already made up his mind.
"It's not the greatest sacrifice, though, is it?" His lips twitched, and she smiled faintly, shaking her head. "Leave it with me, my lady. I know the city better than you, I know how to arrange something. And if we're caught, the last thing either of us want is war with the North after Stannis executes you. Safer if you're not involved,"
"Fine," She nodded, though didn't look too pleased by that. There was a pause, and Lady Bolton looked up at him. "I doubt my conscience will be plagued too much. Lady Dacey was talking with the queen and a group of ladies last night and heard Selyse speculating that I'm lacking in morals enough to sleep with anyone I dance with," The look on her face made it quite clear she'd heard the same things he had.
"Of course she started that," Loreon rolled his eyes, though grinned. "I'd take it as a compliment, my lady. She was obviously referring to your beauty being youthful enough to attract a man half your age,"
"Half my age?" She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He hadn't expected anything less. "You're near nineteen. I'm three and thirty. You might be able to charm even Stannis Baratheon, but clearly no one ever taught you to do sums,"
He laughed.
"Can I ask - ?" Loreon hesitated slightly, which clearly put her on guard.
"What?" Her tone was wary.
"Is Jaime Ren's father?" Seeing the look on her face he quickly pressed on. "Only so I can tell people we're certainly not sleeping together because you're almost my aunt,"
"You won't be telling anyone anything of the sort," She snapped sharply, though he saw the amused look in her eye. "And aunt? For the Lannisters, even being blood relatives counts for nothing. And even in a less dysfunctional family, I'd only be your aunt if I married him,"
"Would you?" He grinned at her stony expression. "I only ask because you didn't answer my question,"
"You wouldn't ask if you didn't know already,"
"Clearly I would,"
"If I said yes, would that shut you up?" She scowled as they neared the guards at the entrance to the Godswood. The woman was more comfortable talking about assassinating the queen than the father of her child.
"To which question?" They had reached the guards now, not that the men would know what they were talking about. Rosennis gave him a long look before replying.
"Yes,"
Before Loreon could get another word in, she had quickly walked away, her men following after her.
It took some careful planning, but three weeks later the court was plunged into mourning, for a few days at least. Queen Selyse had fallen down a steep staircase one night, having told her guards she intended to go for a midnight walk of the battlements, instructing them to stay within sight but a considerable way behind her; she wished to be alone. It being dark, they hadn't had the most clear view of her, but had rushed forward when they heard a shriek. It was too late, however. The queen was lying at the bottom of the stairs in the courtyard, her neck broken, dead already.
It was indeed put down as a tragic accident, exactly as planned. She was in an unfamiliar castle, and it had been dark, a fall wasn't an unreasonable explanation. They had multiple guards backing them up, claiming not to have seen anything suspicious, and a maid who helpfully said that the queen often went for walks when she couldn't sleep. And quite honestly, not many cared enough to look too closely.
Loreon paid his man handsomely for a discreet job very well done.
Shireen was distraught, of course, but Stannis seemed more irritated by his wife's death. Those two had never had much patience for each other, but clearly putting up with Selyse was less of an annoyance than the bother of finding a new wife.
The king was now inundated with marriage proposals, suggestions of brides thrown at him from this way and that, and the ladies of the court fluttering their eyelashes and pushing out their chests at him at every opportunity. Loreon found it very amusing, watching Stannis grind his teeth and walk past groups of ladies, barking at them to get out of his way and determinedly not looking at any of their assets.
Of course, the challenge then was getting his uncle to agree to a Tyrell match. Baratheons held a grudge better than anyone - look at Robert and Rhaegar - and Stannis was among the best of them, still loathing Mace Tyrell for feasting under their walls whilst the castle starved during the siege of Storm's End, and for his more recent transgression of being very late to join his cause.
Loreon wasn't going to back down from this challenge, however, and to his relief most of the lords (those who didn't have eligible daughters of their own, at least) were on his side. It took a great deal of effort but in the end, though prideful, and stubborn beyond belief, Stannis was not stupid, and could not deny that they couldn't risk any chance of the Tyrells go over to the Lannisters. Especially since there was still no word of the whereabouts of Joffrey, Tommen and Cersei. Which left only one option, really.
The word was sent out, to the delight of Mace Tyrell. Lady Margaery rode into the city to cheers and whistles, all of praise, no doubt helped by the fact her father brought even more food from the Reach for the smallfolk. Never mind that he was the one blocking the road in the first place. She looked a true queen already, smiling and waving, beautiful and gracious, accepting the posies of flowers from barefoot children, clasping the hand of an old woman reaching up to her, never breaking character even for a moment.
The wedding was quickly arranged - perhaps too quickly, some muttered, given Queen Selyse was barely dead two moons - but was magnificent nonetheless. The bride looked radiant, of course, the picture of a perfect lady as her younger cousins tossed silver stags into the crowds of adoring smallfolk on the way to the Great Sept.
The king did not; he ground his teeth as usual, and glowered at his soon-to-be goodfather the entire time. Stannis said the wedding vows in a monotone, hardly looking like a man on his wedding day, but he said them nonetheless and that was all that mattered. Loreon could breath a bit easier now Margaery was cloaked in Baratheon gold, for the second time.
To her credit, the new queen managed to look nothing less than thoroughly pleased the entire time, as though she wasn't being married to a humourless, stern husband over twice her age, who would never show her any kind of affection and expect unwavering dedication to duty. Loreon supposed that man was the king, so it was hardly the worst day of her life.
The ceremony went by without a hitch, the ride back to the castle too. And the feast was going perfectly - at least until Stannis began to cough halfway through the main course. Loreon barely thought anything of it at first, until the king didn't stop coughing after downing half his drink, and hitting himself in the chest.
"Are you alright, your grace?" He frowned, then got sharply to his feet when Stannis' only response was to clutch at his throat. "He's choking," Loreon made it down the table in a few strides, pounding his uncle on the back as the king gasped and coughed. By the time he had staggered to his feet, the Kingsguard had finally stepped into action and were hovering around uncertainly, but Stannis was fast turning blue, dropping to his knees.
"Father!" Little Shireen cried, running to his side as cries of alarm and surprise echoed from everywhere in the room. Loreon joined her on the floor, though his attention was on the king.
"Punch him in the chest," Someone called, that voice for some reason standing out against the background roar. He did, several times, for all the good it did. The whole hall was focused on them now, and gasped as the king bit the end of his finger, hard enough to draw a considerable amount of blood. Loreon was about to snatch his hand away from his face, but he was already moving it away, scrabbling at the floor with clawing hands as his face turned a more and more vivid shade of blue.
Stannis Baratheon died with his head on the knees of his bastard nephew as his young daughter, suddenly made an orphan in the space of two months, wept on his chest. His beautiful young bride was distraught, as her father blustered and her grandmother went a deathly pale shade, comforting Margaery, silent for once in her life. The hall was in uproar, the court in chaos, people rushing everywhere, shouting over each other.
Beside the corpse, written in blood by Stannis' dying hands were the scrawled, crude letters.
POIZC
"Poison," Rosennis Bolton appeared at his side like a grim shadow, a hand on his shoulder where he knelt. The look on her face she understood fully what was just starting to hit him now. There was no other way of putting it - they were well and truly fucked. "Get up and pull yourself together," Though the woman's tone was resolute as ever, it lacked its usual bite, and had even a hint of... concern. "Lead them, restore order, before the Tyrells swoop in,"
He nodded blindly, getting to his feet and trying to ignore the ringing in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lady Rosennis dragging a weeping Shireen to her feet by the elbow, Dacey Mormont appearing at her side to help her half-carry the distraught child - the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, seven hells - out of the hall, whilst everyone's attention was focused on the king.
Olenna Tyrell was muttering furiously in her granddaughter's ear. He caught a flash of red hair disappearing from one of the side doors; Sansa must have seen enough death in her time here to not wish to see any more. Brienne was stood with Morganna, a protective hand on the girl's shoulder.
Loreon took a deep breath.
Drama, drama and more drama. Big changes too. I can't imagine everyone will be happy with some of the choices I made in this chapter, but trust me when I say Stannis' death serves a purpose in the story other than shock-value. I truly tried to write the plot without killing him off but couldn't get things to fit together that way. It might not be clear right now, but it was necessary for our new king to die in the same chapter he finally gets the throne.
One small thing most people will probably have missed but I'm sure there'll be someone in the comments to point in out; I appreciate that the timeline of Littlefinger going to the Vale has significantly sped up. My explanation for that is he knew Stannis didn't like him, so sped up his plans and manipulated the Lannisters into getting what he wants. If that's not enough of an explanation, I'm sure that small detail can be overlooked given it's necessary to the plot to have him in the Vale.
Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting!
