Storm's End, 282 AC

Sit on the wooden chair, his arms folded on its armrest, his hands joined, his index fingers patting his mouth nervously; Stannis is staring at the two parchments Cressen has placed in front of him hours ago. One of the letters bears the seal of his house. The other, the seal of the Royal family, the Targaryens.

Cressen has given him three letters in the morning: those two, and one from Aylis. He has answered the Tully girl's and, since, then, has not been able to open the two others. Now, it is past lunch time, he has not swallowed anything, unable to, a knot in his stomach painfully preventing him from even drink a cup of water. He closes his eyes a moment, feeling the warm sun stroking his face, making the Baratheon seal shine. Stannis notices it and resolves to read the letter.

"Stannis,

I know you are totally aware of why I am writing to you, so I will not lose time: fight for me. You know what he did to the Starks. You know what his son did to me. You cannot fight for this tyrant. Know that if you choose him above me, I shall show no mercy to you, brother or not.

Your brother,

Robert."

His face remains impassible as he folds the parchment back and takes the other one. He breaks the seal and unfolds it completely:

"To Stannis of House Baratheon,

I, Aerys of House Targaryen, second of His name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the first Men, Lord of the Seven kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, demands that you, Stannis of House Baratheon, answer my call to all of my subjects to subdue this infamous rebellion led by Jon of House Arryn, your brother Robert of House Baratheon and Eddard of House Stark. We, the noble Houses of Westeros, shall prevail and destroy every man, woman and child who supported the rebels. Now is time for you to choose: your King, or your brother. Respect the oath your ancestors sworn to my house, and I will name you Lord of Stom's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Choose the rebels, and I will kill each and every member of House Baratheon, erasing this family from Westeros forever.

King Aerys II of House Targaryen."

Stannis closes his eyes a second before placing the parchment by his brother's letter. He has recognized Robert's handwriting, hasty and messy, when the letter from Aerys was certainly written by another person. The handwriting was too neat and beautiful for the Mad King, whom people say he is close to death. He has signed, tho, a trembling scribble at the end of the parchment.

He stands up and leaves the room, and the castle, silently. Handmaids are busy working, and no one sees him as he climbs down to the beach. He sits on the fresh sand and, staring at the calm sea; he takes his boots off and lets the foam lick his toes. He remembers has everything has started: it did not even start with Lyanna Stark's abduction, no. It has started when Brandon Stark rode to King's Landing and called at Rhaegar Targaryen. The prince was not here. "Come out and die", he had cried. The door has opened and Aerys Targaryen had walked out. He immediately imprisoned Brandon, and all the men who were with him, then sent a message to their fathers, held responsible for their son's faults. Aerys executed them as soon as they got to King's Landing but Rickard Stark asked for a trial by combat, and Aerys had agreed, but had chosen the fire as his champion. Dressed in his steel armor, ready to fight a kingsguard, Rickard had been suspended in the throne room, a fire burning under him. His son, Brandon, had a sword barely out of his reach and a noose around his neck. Everytime he had tried to reach the sword to save his father, the noose had strangled him a little more. Rickard had burnt alive, and Brandon had died strangled. As soon as they had died, Aerys had called for Eddard and Robert's head. This is when Jon Arryn had called his banner men, refusing to give in the young men who were like sons to him. Jon chose his feelings over his duty to the King and it is now his turn, Stannis's turn to make this choice.

He has done his duty, always has tried to, but now, he is lost. He has no father to advice him, Renly is too young to decide. Renly… He thinks about him. Choose the rebels, and I will kill each and every member of House Baratheon. Not the King's handwriting, but very clearly his words. He has to protect his brother. The wisest thing would be to stand by the King. He sighs deeply and lies completely on the sand. Being here has always helped him clearing things out but now, a million different thoughts cross his mind. Their father would have not wanted to see his boys divided. And what would happen if Robert wins this war? Stannis knows his brother; he knows he would never forgive betrayal, especially coming from his own family. At best, he would send his brother to the Wall. His brother… Is fighting for an oath sworn hundreds of years ago more honorable than fighting alongside his brother? Shall his King prevail on his brother? What tells him Aerys does not think he is as responsible for this as his brother, and has already decided of his fate? The young man thinks about talking about it with Cressen but no, he needs to decide this alone. He turns his face to his castle, stares at it lengthily: Storm's End has never been the most beautiful castle of Westeros. It is not in a fertile land like Highgarden, it is not impregnable like the Eyrie or Casterly Rock. Still, it is his castle, the heritage of his family, and he loves it, with all his heart. He smiles slightly when he thinks again of all this fake fights he had against Robert, and he remembers it's in those woods he has found Proudwing, he remembers passing through the corridors and examining this weird pink thing who was crying and fidgeting and that his parents had called Renly. He could not forget about all this, turn his back on his family, on his brothers.

By the end of the day, he has made up his mind, and, when he joins the castle, barefoot, holding his boots in one hand, he calls at Cressen. The old maester joins him as Stannis is changing his clothes for the dinner.

"You asked for me, Stannis?" the Maester smiles at the boy.

"I have. How many men do we have here?" Stannis asks.

Cressen is taken aback with the question:

"A few hundreds, Stannis. I'd say 500."

Stannis grinds his teeth, not reacting. 500. 500 men against the powerful houses that will stand by the Mad King. Robert is in the Eyrie, and will probably march to King's Landing without caring about him. Still, he has made his choice.

"Empty the castle. The small folk need to stay away from it. Stock up on food, as much as you can. I need to write a letter. I will join you for the dinner later."

He puts on a shirt and sits at his desk when he notices Cressen has not moved at all. He looks at Stannis dumbfounded and Stannis stands back up, joins him and leans his hand on his shoulder. Staring at the old maester's eyes, he says firmly:

"We are at war."