A/N: Thanks for all the likes and follows. I hope you continue to enjoy this story! I would appreciate any constructive criticism and/or advise as I continue!
If all the ravens that were too-ing and throwing across the Seven Kingdoms, my calling of a Great Council was the political maneuver of the century. I was sure that Stannis had little-to-no actual proof that I was the product of incest, save the word of Eddard Stark and he was current either making his way North or in the hands of his son Rob.
Either way, he was a man of his word and hopefully his presence alone would be enough to sway the North from any violent action. But I would just have to wait and see on that one.
Wearing the colours of House Baratheon and proudly wearing my so-called father's family crest proudly on my chest, I stood on the battlements overlooking Blackwater Bay, the body of water King's Landing stood upon. Beside him, stood on a crate so he could watch with me, was my uncle Tyrion who was currently sipping on a cup of wine from my father's fantastic reserves. "An impressive sight, the Royal Fleet," commented the half-man, "All's the pity that it comes here under the command of Stannis Baratheon."
I ground my teeth at that one, but didn't comment other to say, "And who else should be in command of the fleet than the Master of Ships?"
"Ideally, someone that doesn't want your crown, your head and probably to erase you from the collective memory?"
I had to chuckle at that one. "Yes well. He's going to have to do more than attempt a dick measuring contest if he's going to convince the other great Lord's of the realm of his claims," I commented back. Though Tyrion had the right of it. "I only allowed him to bring his forces with him in order to publicly balance the influence of the City Watch. But if memory serves Dragonstone isn't a great one for garrisoned forces, and he doesn't currently appear to be drawing on any allies. It also shows a general lack of trust in the word of the Crown that everyone would have safe passage and a guarantee of personal security too and from the Great Council."
Tyrion was nodding along at my points. "And a number of the other Great Lords, especially those from the North, will likely see the presence of the fleet here, and the army embarked upon it, as a threat from Stannis to vote in his favour."
"The same could be said for the City Watch," commented Tyrion.
"The City Watch is considered a corrupt joke, nothing more than jumped up sellswords and thugs who take bribes, break up bar brawls, and whore their way into early graves," I contended. "An otherwise appropriate reflection on the rule of my father. Besides the fact, neither they nor I have any real combat experience outside of a decent punch-up whereas Stannis' people are well trained and well armed."
That got a raised eyebrow. "An apt assessment, nephew. Where did that come from?"
"I've been considering the situation is all, and that seemed like the correct one," I noted with a shrug. It took me a few tries to notice the functionary coughing politely nearby. "It would appear that the Great Council is starting to form, shall we go face my first great opponent?"
A chuckle escaped Tyrion's lips as he downed the last of his wine. "All the randy whore's in King's Landing couldn't keep me from being there to watch."
Trying to stick to precedent for sake of legality, I had suggested two places in which to hold the Great Council, the other being Harrenhall which had hosted the Great Council of 101 AC. Because Harrenhall was land-locked however, Stannis had rejected it outright, not wishing to leave his fleet behind and Robb had rejected as being too well defensible if violence broke out. Thusly, all the Great Houses of Westeros and/or their representatives descended on the capital to decide on the next Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.
The Iron Islands had sent an interestingly large delegation, but that was to be expected. The Great Council's did tend to resemble the Kingsmoots in a fashion if I remembered correctly.
Oberyn Martell came representing Dorne which wasn't unsurprising either, as Doran was apparently too sick to travel. Given that their family hated both the Baratheons and the Lannisters, it was going to be fun to see how they voted. Hell, they might just vote for whoever would cause the realm the most trouble just to fuck with us.
Correspondence had been going on back and forth between King's Landing and Robb Stark's army as he demanded this and that from me before he even deigned to show up at the Council. I easily caved to his demands that he be named Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North as I had planned on doing so anyway. That he'd requested that I do so in writing as well as in front of the Great Council was a masterstroke and I happily sent a murder of ravens across the Seven Kingdom's doing so.
I also confirmed the wedding between myself and Sansa would be taking place, and that she would be able to spend time with her family away from any Baratheon, Lannister or Royal guards. My only concession there was it take place in the grounds of the Red Keep and that any Stark guards wouldn't be present to risk her away back North. I would further absolve the rest of House Stark of all of Ned's purported crimes.
All of which appeared to mollify him and he agreed that the North would attend the Great Council as a constituent member of the Seven Kingdoms and not as an independent invading force. It also meant that his banners would be returning home and his armies dissolved. Which was one problem to cross off the list. It also freed my grandfather of his duties in the field and allowed him to return to King's Landing earlier than expected.
Which meant that we could talk in person instead of via raven about what to do about the Hand of the King situation and about Cersei.
Both sides would be presenting their cases before the gathered dignitaries, and, for the sake of neutrality, I had appointed Grand Maester Pycelle to preside over the festivities. It didn't take long for everyone to realise that Stannis had been talking out of his ass, as while I wasn't the most eloquent speaker at times, I was doing a lot better than he. With the Targaryen heritage of the Baratheons both historically and as recent as a couple of generations ago, I was able to put to bed the matter of my light hair colour and my hammering home of a distinct lack of proof or even witnesses on Stannises part, I pointed to both Maester Pycell and a number of others, both nobles and servants, who'd been presence as witnesses for my parents infrequent copulations as evidence for my legitimacy. Hell, I even got Stannis to admit to hearing some of the copulations himself on the very night of my parents gods damned wedding!
"If my Uncle can prove a wit of the argument he is presenting, my Lords, he has yet to do so," I commented eventually. "And I, much like yourselves, am growing tired of all this shameless opportunism!"
"There have never been any blonde Baratheon children!" Hammered home Stannis loudly.
"I must unfortunately correct you there, Uncle," I reported, "I stand here as one of three blonde Baratheon children! Given that this is the first time that the Houses of Baratheon and Lannister have united our respective seeds was bound to produce at least one blonde child. Especially given the lineage of both! The fact that you fail to comprehend that shows either wilful ignorance on your part of lack of education on a part of the maester's of Storm's End."
With that I turned to the fancy chair that Pycelle was presiding from, "My apologies Grand Maester, as I don't wish to bring your Order into disrepute!"
It was waved off, thankfully, but it was enough of an argument to allow me a momentary reprieve and I took a drink of water. All this arguing was thirsty work.
"And given that I wasn't the first son of Robert and Cersei's union, but the second should also be evidence," I added. "Yes, he was dark of hair, but a curious man would wonder how Robert only managed to get her pregnant once over so many years of marriage. I mean, with four children born to her, the Queen Mother is clearly a fertile woman so perhaps we are to assume that my father wasn't fertile himself?" I paused for effect before making a dismissing shake of my head. "With the sheer number of bastards he's left scattered across the Seven Kingdom's, you'd have to be a fool to believe that Robert was infertile."
"But are you telling me that despite his whoring ways, that he wasn't also bedding one of the most beautiful women in all of the Seven Kingdoms? Fuck off, I say. That would mean that he didn't have the brains to be suspicious that his wife kept getting pregnant without his…" Pause again for effect, "input into the process."
"He was probably too drunk to realise," rebutted Stannis. Which was a fair point, if easily refutable.
"Perhaps, but that didn't exactly stop him from getting all those other girls pregnant now did it?"
"There are other ways to end a pregnancy," muttered Stannis.
"Speak up, Lord Stannis, so that everyone may hear you," requested Pycelle.
"I said, there are ways to prevent or end a pregnancy," Stannis bellowed in annoyance.
"Excellent point," I agreed magnanimously. "But how would my mother, or any other, know she was pregnant by her dark-haired husband or some other hypothetical man she was bedding at the same time? And get it right every time?" I gave Stannis the look of a student who'd just asked a stupid question and expected a serious answer from their teacher.
"In all honestly, I know it would be in your interest for me to be an incestuous bastard, but have you stopped to consider that your opinion may just be clouded by self-interest? If we accepted your arguments, we'd be setting the precent that any man who thinks he could run things better than his elder brother could just make similar claims about the elder brothers parentage. All because their case holds about as much water as yours does. Which seems to be scant but unsubstantiated rumour as I think everyone in this room has the intelligence to realise."
Those from the North were a little put out, but otherwise kept silent. There were, however, more than few people who seemed to be agreeing with that sentiment.
"As for myself," I offered. "If anyone on the Great Council wishes to ask me question, or put forward their own reasonable argument for either side of this debate, I am all ears." I paused before smiling at Stannis. "Because, uncle, they'd be hard press to do worse then you." Wit that I moved to my seat and flopped into it, before gesturing to where I'd been standing. "Your turn…"
Some claimed later that they saw a grin appear on the face on the face of Tywin Lannister, but few who heard the story believed it.