StarofRadiance: No, it's Stannis.

iacopo: You might be disappointed with how the alliances pan out.

silentmayhem: Rhoynar water magic Valyrian shadow magic

Ashar: You're absolutely on point.

Guest: For the first point, the frog plotpoint has been set up since one of the first chapters and a lot of hints have been dropped since then. "The Loyal Guard" chapter being the most obvious one. Long story short is that the Valyrians feared the tree frogs because they were used by the Rhoynar for their water magic, to keep the Valyrians at bay during their wars. One does not sit next to Valyria for hundreds of years without having a few tricks in order not to get invaded. For the second point, you could argue Renly did not expect Stannis to send a shadow-magic assassin after him. Killing him in battle is a bit more "human" and Renly didn't plan on doing it himself.

Question: In the chapter "The Loyal Guard", Quentyn mentions that he bought it from a merchant hailing from Volantis. I do suggest re-reading it since I dropped a lot of hints in Areo and Quentyn's short conversation about what Achilles really was.

The Would-Be King

Stannis stood atop of the hill, at the chosen hour. It was a hill he knew well. He would go fly Proudwing along its ridges, watching as the hawk spread its wings and soared above the fortress of the Durrandons.

These were simpler times, times before the Rebellion when he could be free of the burdens that his brothers had placed on him. But now Proudwing was gone, and so were these joyful times. He had to do his duty. To his brother, to his house, and to his people.

With Robert dead and his children born of incest, it was on his head that the crown belonged. And yet, only house Seaworth of the Stormlands had joined his side, along with a few houses from the Crownlands. He would see their loyalty rewarded. What he wouldn't tolerate, though, were the treasonous houses that had aligned with his brother, Renly.

But they would bend the knee, in time. He knew most of the lords on Renly's side, and they would flock to him should his treasonous brother die, and the Florents would bring some of the Reach's support. His wife had told him that her uncles Alester and Axell would flock to him should he get rid of Renly, something he didn't wholeheartedly believe, but something that Selyse was absolutely categorical about.

But this still left the case of his treasonous little brother. Stannis held the hope that he would bend the knee to him and be named heir until he sired a son, but those hopes were dashed at the parlay where Renly stubbornly refused to bend the knee. It gave him no joy for him to declare his brother traitor and organize his death.

Melisandre had given him a son, and that son had, for all intents and purposes, achieved its goal, according to the Red Priestess. Despite Renly seemingly dying, Melisandre had been shaken by this act, calling for the death of "the prince of the Rhoynar".

Stannis wasn't stupid enough to not know who that was considering the presence of the Dornish amidst Renly's camp, but he also knew enough about his present situation that ordering the death of the heir to Dorne would not benefit him in any way. No, Dorne would bend in time, but there were better objectives for the moment.

And it had seemed that Melisandre had recovered from the day's experience, seeing as she rode to the battle along with his knights and men-at-arms.

Looking down on the various banners floating in the wind, he had sincerely hoped that it would not come to battle. There were good men amongst his host, men that would have been put to better use putting down the Lannisters rather than proving to them that the Lord of Light was behind them. But it would need to be done.

His hopes of Renly's death causing a dissolution of the Reach-Stormlands alliance had shattered, and it seemed that it would come to battle after all. And he would have been a fool not to contemplate that this was indeed a possibility.

As such, he has chosen the time and place perfectly. He knew Storm's End and its surroundings like no other man in the known world. He knew exactly where to give battle.

He had chosen a hill located between Storm's End and Renly's camp. One that overlooked both, so to see exactly what positions each camp would take and how the battle was going. He had chopped down every single tree on the outskirts of the hill to force the Reacher cavalry into a small chokepoint where his opponent's numbers would no longer matter. He had chosen dawn as the time of battle so that Renly's cavalry, tired after charging up the hill, would be completely blinded by the rising sun.

He had scattered his men to hold the hill in front of Renly's camp and had entrusted his left to Ser Perkin Follard, a capable knight, and the right to Ser Gilbert Farring, a capable commander in his own right. He, on the other hand, would hold the centre while he entrusted his reserves to Ser Davos Seaworth, who would have to hold any sortie from Storm's End with the help of Melisandre.

This was a battle he intended to win.

As dawn broke and he saw the banners flying, Stannis smiled. Everything was going as planned. Renly had only brought cavalry to the siege, too pressed by time. The Reachers had the vanguard, and it would shatter the moment they hit his lines. Then, the Stormlanders on the flanks would falter, else they suffer the same fate.

Suddenly, a horn blew in the distance, and a cloud of dust formed at the foot of the hill.

Stannis nodded grimly. It was time.

He put on his helm and ordered his small force of archers to rain their arrows upon the attackers.

"NOCK!" yelled a captain. "DRAW! LOOSE!"

The first volley wasn't impressive. It didn't black out the sky like the volleys of the Redgrass Field, nor did it cause considerable damage to his opponent, but fewer knights to deal with was always a good thing.

Seeing that his opponent's cavalry was having a hard time scaling the hill, he ordered a second volley to be fired.

"NOCK! DRAW! LOOSE!"

The arrows flew, and once more, they helped in taking down a few knights. A precious few that his men wouldn't have to deal with.

Time was now of the essence. The knights were halfway up the hill and could reach his lines soon. Nevertheless, there would still be time for a third volley, which he immediately ordered.

"NOCK! DRAW! LOOSE!"

The arrows rained down upon the Reachers yet again, and this time Stannis saw the banners of houses Hunt and Norcross fall from the charge. A few less knights, a few less men…

However, the knights would soon be upon them, and as such, Stannis ordered his archers back.

"ARCHERS, WITHDRAW!" he yelled.

They did as told, quickly hurrying back to the small woods atop the hill, while some would reinforce Davos' reserves to keep Ser Cortnay Penrose from trying to pincer them.

Soon, the unnerving sound of thousands of knights charging became clearer, until he could hear his enemies' voices as clear as day.

"KINSLAYER! KINSLAYER!"

"FOR RENLY AND THE CROWNED STAG!"

The shock was brutal. The Reacher cavalry's charge was been completely destroyed by Stannis' men, with dying horses littering the hill. Yet, they kept coming.

Some horses eventually broke through the first line, sweeping into Stannis' lines, but were also brutally cut down, having lost support from their peers. Men fell to his left. Men fell to his right. He shook his head. What had been their plan? To simply charge and hope that the sun would stop blinding them?

"HOLD THE LINE!" he shouted, unsheathing his flaming sword, Lightbringer.

"STANNIS! STANNIS!" shouted his men, reinvigorated as another wave of horses came crashing in, more violently even than the first.

This time, though a few horses had managed to break Stannis' line, and headed straight for him. A knight of house Graceford threw a spear at him, wounding his horse, and forcing him to start fighting on foot. The knight raised his sword and charged at Stannis, yelling some incomprehensible words. The fool wasn't skilled enough. It only took a few swings for Stannis to shove his sword into the poor bastard's exposed neck.

Looking back at his line, he saw his men struggle with another wave of horses that had broken through. Enraged, he took his sword, plunged it into a man bearing the colours of House Tyrell, and bellowed.

"TRUE MEN OF THE CROWN! FORCE THEM BACK! THIS IS OUR HILL! OURS IS THE FURY!"

"OURS IS THE FURY!" chanted his men.

This had reinvigorated them again. His line kept holding while his few knights helped deal with the few that came through. The smell of dead Reacher horses and men alike started filling the air, with his armor starting to look crimson as he continued cutting down men around him.

Suddenly a young knight charged at him with tremendous speed.

"KINSLAYER!" the knight clad in Tyrell colours roared. "YOU WILL DIE! FOR RENLY!"

Stannis didn't bother responding and focused in the knight's direction. The poor lad had lost his helm and had long, brown hair. Staring for a moment into the boy's golden eyes, he could only see one thing: hate.

And it is with all of that hate that the knight charged into him, forcing him on the defensive. Every blow that the knight dealt, he could feel himself losing ground or balance. Stannis tried to stand his ground, to fight back, but it was no use. The boy in front of him was more skilled than him. And he was fuelled by anger. His sword wasn't anything more than a minor hinderance for the young knight, who ignored the flames coming out of Lightbringer and only focused on hacking Stannis to pieces.

He needed to find an opening, and quick. However, the knight's blows were quick, leaving no room for Stannis to hit an exposed area. But he had to. His life depended on it.

"YOU TRIED TO KILL YOUR OWN BROTHER!" the knight yelled. "YOU BURNT THE HOME OF THE GODS! YOU AND YOUR FLAMING SWORD AND GODS CAN BURN IN THE SEVEN HELLS WHERE YOU BELONG!"

Tried? No, Renly was dead. He had to be.

"I WILL END YOU!" the knight screamed.

Stannis tried to parry the next strike, but lost his footing on a knight's body and fell to the ground, losing a grip on his sword.

"DIE!" the knight raised his sword for the kill, while Stannis desperately searched for his.

No! It couldn't end like this. Melisandre had promised him victory. She had seen it in the flames. It couldn't end now!

But he wouldn't shy away from death. He would remain defiant till the end. He turned back, facing the young knight, and found that his mouth was full of blood, and the sword that had been raised to slay him was now lying on the ground. Another sword had cut through his neck.

"Ren...ly…" the young knight managed to gargle, spitting blood, before falling to the ground.

Behind him, another lord stood, his blade drenched in blood, as he extended a hand to help Stannis up. Not finding his sword, he had to settle for the fallen knight's one. A richly decorated sword, with a pommel decorated with golden roses.

The man before him was tall and had also lost his helm. His silver-blonde hair flowed freely above his neck, with half of his face drenched in blood. If he didn't know better, he would have mistaken him for a Targaryen.

"Lord Monford." He nodded. "I owe you a debt."

"None of that now, your grace." The Velaryon lord shouted. "Ser Gilbert is having trouble on the right. The Stormlanders are close to breaking through."

Stannis nodded and was about to motion for him to get Ser Davos and have him direct some of his forces to help Ser Gilbert.

Unfortunately, a wall of flame appeared in the distance, at his back.

Ser Cortnay was attempting to ride out. He would be sorely disappointed at the welcoming party he would receive.

But this also meant that he had no reserves left.

"Hold the centre, Lord Velaryon, I will assist Ser Gilbert."

"But, your grace…"

"This is an order, Lord Velaryon!"

The silver-haired lord nodded and gave him his horse, a bright destrier decorated with white seahorses. It wasn't long till he reached Ser Gilbert's line, which showed serious signs of wavering. They couldn't. Not now.

"HOLD THE LINE!" Stannis shouted. "THE DAY IS OURS!"

However, his men only grunted, and all he heard was the Stormlander's battle cries.

"KINSLAYER! RENLY BRINGS THE STORM!"

Fools. Renly is dead, and you will be soon if you don't stop this madness.

Yet, the Stormlander's line suddenly began to crack, and men started looking behind them. Suddenly, they were in a full rout, with chants emerging from afar.

"SWIFT AND TRUE! SWIFT AND TRUE!"

"BETRAYAL!" the Stormlanders chanted. "THE FLORENTS HAVE TURNED CLOAK!"

Before Ser Gilbert's line, he saw the Stormlanders being slaughtered by mounted knights of House Florent. One by one, they were cut down, the knights of his wife's house acting like a hammer upon Ser Gilbert's anvil.

The knights then made their way through the line at Stannis' request. A tall knight with a horse decorated with the arms of House Florent rushed to Stannis and raised his helm. It was Alester Florent, the proud lord of Brightwater Keep.

"Your grace, Brightwater Keep and House Florent are yours to command." He nodded. "We have come to serve the true king of Westeros."

"Lord Florent, your arrival is appreciated." Stannis nodded back. "Have some of your men reinforce Ser Gilbert and then come with me and hold the centre. I have left my men for too long."

"As you wish, your grace."

Stannis urged his mount forward, Lord Alester and a few of his knights close behind him. On top of Lord Velaryon's mount, he could see that although the Florents had joined him, the battle was far from over.

His left had been alleviated a lot of pressure, but his opponents had reserves and the Stormlanders hadn't broken as expected. Worse, a few knights led by banners of House Morrigen were trying to flank his left through the woods, and another cavalry charge was being hurried up the hill.

Quickly, Stannis went to reinforce his centre before the line broke. A good thing, as more and more horses kept breaking through, his line shattering bit by bit. He and Alekeyne Florent helped contain the Reachers slipping through his men, whose hate and eagerness seemed to double once they had spotted him and Lord Florent.

"THE FLORENTS HAVE TURNED CLOAK!" a knight of house Hightower shouted before being cut down by one of Stannis' men-at-arms.

It wasn't long till the word would have reached the bottom of the hill. And no word from his left, still.

However, there still was no breach. The flower of the Reach's cavalry was dying before his very eyes, horses falling and men crying out in pain and terror as Stannis' men cut them down the moment they hit the ground.

The day is ours. They will stop charging.

But he could see that this will not last. The Florents gave him precious men but his were dying too, and unlike his opponents, he could hardly replace them with fresh troops. Not with Ser Davos holding off against Ser Cortnay.

Then, a shudder went through his spine.

"RENLY KING! RENLY KING!" came a shout. But that shout was closer than the others. And it was not uttered by a single man, no. It was shouted by at least a dozen.

Stannis turned his head to the left and saw something horrifying. The left had fallen apart and the Reachers and Stormlanders were now exploiting this breach to the fullest.

"FORM A LINE! FORM A LINE!" Stannis shouted, to no avail.

He needed to push back these knights as soon as possible, lest the battle turn against him. Quickly, he rose his sword and shouted:

"FOLLOW ME, MEN! VICTORY IS AT HAND!"

Urging his horse forward, he slammed into the incoming knight, knocking him clean off of his horse. Another jabbed at him, but he managed to disarm him before turning to a third and shoving his sword in the gap of his opponent's helm.

Yet, men were dying all around him. And not only his enemies' but his too. Everywhere, bodies were falling, and soon enough, Lord Velaryon's beautiful destrier was slammed into by a spear and sent Stannis hurdling towards the ground a second time.

"RENLY KING! RENLY KING!" shouted the knights charging at him.

He brought down a knight with a rainbow cloak, recognizing his sigil of that of house Caron, another traitorous house.

"Forgotten your vows, Ser Bryce?" he asked. "Join me and I shall not attaint you as a traitor."

"Bold words coming from a heretic and a kinslayer." The Caron knight stood and charged forwards their steel clashing.

"That's Ser Loras' sword!" Ser Bryce angrily roared.

"He didn't need it anymore." Stannis simply replied.

Ser Bryce raised his sword and tried pushing forwards, but he wasn't half of what the Tyrell knight was. Stannis easily parried his swing, and shoved his own sword into Ser Bryce's sword arm, cutting it clean off where the armor stopped.

"The day is mine, Ser Bryce." Stannis launched at his enemy, raising his sword for the kill. "You would have done well to take my offer."

Ser Bryce Caron laughed, blood running from his stump.

"Look around you, kinslayer." Ser Bryce taunted, before losing consciousness.

And look he did.

Suddenly, everything seemed to come crashing down. His men hadn't formed a line, and more and more men were spilling from the gap in his left. Knights came in with fresh horses and continued slamming into his men, who fell one by one.

He saw Lord Alester being unhorsed and slaughtered by vengeful Reachers. He saw his centre slowly break as they had trouble holding back both the attacks from the left and the front. He saw banners of Goldengrove and Horn Hill cutting through his line like it was made of butter.

And suddenly, Stannis Baratheon, first of his name, realized that the impossible had happened. He had lost. Everything he did…he did it for naught. Dragonstone, Renly…he did it for nothing.

But there was one thing left fighting for. One more little thing. And suddenly, he felt his forces rise tenfold. He ran towards his centre, massacring every man foolish enough to come in his way.

Another man in a rainbow cloak bearing the colors of house Morrigen ran at him screaming something about Renly. He was dealt with. So was a knight of House Fossoway. And another of house Crane.

Suddenly, he came to the man he was looking for.

"Ser Matthos!" he yelled.

"Your grace!" the Seaworth knight yelled, his armor and sword both tainted crimson, so much that one would have mistaken him for a Lannister wielding Red Rain. "We are holding!"

"That is good, Ser Matthos, but I need you to give a message to your father."

"What is it? Shall I tell him to commit his reserves?"

"No," Stannis said, raising his helm. "Tell him to take his men and Melisandre, and leave. Protect Shireen and protect Dragonstone."

"But, your grace…the battle."

"Is lost. It's lost, Ser Matthos, now go! That's an order!"

The knight looked shocked but nodded anyway. He quickly saddled one of the few horses left alive in this butchery and left towards where Ser Davos was holding. He could only hope he too was not overrun.

Meanwhile, Stannis put his helm on one last time, and took out the Tyrell boy's sword, soaked in the blood of Reachers, Stormlanders and Crownlanders alike, for one last dance.

Slowly, he dispatched the knights that came to challenge him one by one. One by one they fell. And he stood.

The Lord of light was with him. And hope was rekindled. He was Azor Ahai, the chosen one, the one that would bring the dawn.

However, a sharp pain in his stomach kept him from advancing further.

Turning around, he saw that a knight of house Grandison had struck him in the chest. Enraged, he took out his anger on the knight, slitting his throat.

Then another pain, in his back. And another one in his legs.

He cried out and fell on his knees.

A few more blades struck him then, knights surrounding him, ripping through him.

No.

No.

It couldn't end.

Not now.

He struggled to try and face his opponents but another pain in his foot sent him down to the ground once more. There was blood. A lot of blood. He could see it on his hands, his sword, his chest. He could taste it in his mouth.

Another blade struck.

This time Stannis fell on his back, feeling the life draining from him.

There would be no great victory. No great destiny. No great rule.

There would only be death.

Stannis didn't curse or weep or pray. Instead, only one word left his lips.

"Shireen…"

And then darkness took him.