Robert's sword swirls in the air, before violently crashing on the pillow. Stannis, lying on his bed, a book in his hands, gives an annoyed look towards him.
"Is it not dead yet?" he sarcastically says.
"I don't know how you can stay that calm", Robert answered, going on moving his sword as if he was fighting an invisible enemy. Stannis looks up to admire his skills. In fighting, Robert has always surpassed him. Basically, everything Stannis does, Robert does it better, or faster, or stronger. Except reading. Robert hates books. He thinks it's boring to stay sit for hours, reading some fairytale or history of Westeros, of the dragons, the Targaryens conquest and so on. Sometimes, Stannis thinks he should have been born a girl. Maybe he would have made his parents prouder then… A harrowing yell rings out in the whole castle. Stannis feels a shiver running up and down his spine and even Robert suddenly stops exercising.
"How long will it take?" he asks Stannis when the yell has lowered its intensity.
Stannis shrugs:
"I don't know. I think it's long to deliver a baby…"
Robert sighs, goes back to his sword and Stannis goes back to his book. A few hours later, while they're both close to fall asleep, their father, Steffon, gets in their room, looking exhausted but grinning brightly. With his deep and strong voice, he announces:
"Boys, you have a little brother."
Robert jumps with joy and Stannis can't help but whining: he would have loved a sister. Someone who would not be obsessed with battles, blood and fights. Someone he could have read to. He looks up when he feels Steffon's hand on his shoulder, pressing it gently.
"Stannis, next time it will may be a girl."
The boy looks up at his father and gives a faint smile.
"Can we see him?" Robert asks excitedly.
"Of course", Steffon says and walks out of the room, followed by his two sons. They walk through Storm's End castle, silently. Stannis is surprised to see how dark the night is. It was the beginning of the afternoon when their mother felt the first pains. The sun was shining brightly and Robert moaned about having to stay in his bedroom when he wanted to hunt with his gyrfalcon Thunderclap. Stannis was weirdly relieved: he would have wanted him to go hunting too and his own bird, a goshawk, was a terrible hunter. They pass in front of the aviary, and he looks at Proudwing, his bird. Next to her stands Robert's bird, stronger, taller. As he walks with his brother and father, he remembers this day when, having a stroll with his horse, he heard weak squawking. He went down from his horse and followed the sounds: here she was, probably fallen from the nest, her wing injured. He took her back, proud of having saved her. For weeks, he took care of her, keeping her in his room, feeding her. When she first flight, he almost cried with pride. It was as if she was his little child. Then, Robert decided to go hunt with them. Proudwing didn't fly very high, when Thunderclap flied so far sometimes it became invisible to their eyes. Robert was laughing, pointing at Stannis, red with anger and shame. "Proudwing", he couldn't stop laughing. "It's more Weakwing!" Laughing at his own joke, he was holding his belly. Stannis had rushed on him and had started punching him. They were alone, and even if there had been someone, he wouldn't have stopped himself. He hated Robert's arrogance, his disdain for everyone else. Robert was stronger than him and better at wrestling, but Stannis was so angry he hadn't given him a chance. It's only when his fists had been aching too much, and his anger had simmered down, that he had rolled off him and lied on the grass, panting hard. He had stared at the sky, and had seen Proudwing flying in circle above his head. Without a word, he had come back to the castle. Robert had come back later, his gyrfalcon having killed a rabbit. He had nastily smiled at Stannis when their father had congratulated him, and had the rabbit for dinner this night. None of them had talked about the fight, but Robert had stopped mocking Proudwing, at least in front of Stannis. Lost in thought, he bumps on Steffon, still in front of the door.
"Careful, Stannis", Steffon looked over his shoulder at him.
"Sorry father", he mumbles.
Steffon leans his hand on the handle of the wooden door and he opens it. Stannis and Robert gasp slightly in anticipation and walk with him. On the bed is their mother, the beautiful Cassana. She looks tired, but her lips are locked in a broad grin and her eyes stop on her children when they get closer. Her cheekbones are pale, but even now, she looks as noble as a queen. Stannis stares at her, her eyes slowly moving to the naked baby who is wriggling on her chest.
"Say hello to your little brother", her sweet voice says.
Robert and Stannis sit by her, Stannis moving his hand towards the baby, stroking his little hand clumsily.
"What's his name?" Robert asks.
"Renly", Steffon answers.
"Starts like my name" Robert triumphantly says, staring at Stannis.
Steffon notices the look and helds back a sigh:
"And Stannis's name starts like mine", he says and Stannis gives him a grateful look.
Why can't his children get along together? They are as different as night and day, that is true. He knows it, he has always known it. But they are brothers, the same blood runs in their veins. He looks at them, as far from each other as they can and he suddenly wonders if they would be this way their whole life or if there will be a time, when they will get old, when they could share a drink together, talking about their parents's memories and their children's ones. He places his hands on both of their hair and they turn to him with the same movement. So different, and so alike somehow. Two young stags testing their force by fighting each other.
"Come on", he says. "Let your mother rest."
Stannis places a kiss on Cassana's cheek and one on the baby's head. Robert does the same and they walk to the door.
"I love you", they hear her say.
"We love you too Mother", Robert replies with a smile before closing the door behind them.