Storm's End, 283 AC
Stannis is woken up by a hand shaking him violently. He sits up in bed and turns to the soldier who has gotten into his chamber. "My Lord, we are attacked", the soldier says breathless. Stannis swiftly leaves his bed, and puts his armor on, before joining his men on the battlements of the castle. From time to time, the Tyrells decide to launch an attack on the castle. Every time, Stannis and his men manage to repel them, but their forces are weaker and weaker. Once again, the Tyrells are defeated, and go back to their camp right in front of the castle. There are dozens of dead men among the castle's soldiers, and they burn the bodies, unable to bury them properly. Stannis visits the wounded soldiers and he sees Donal Noye, Storm's End's smith, sit against a wall, breathing hardly and his left arm really in a bad state. The young Lord kneels next to the man, who forces himself to smile:
"Don't worry, my Lord. I'll be fine."
Stannis calls at Cressen and looks worriedly at him as he examines the man's arm. Noye has forged his first swords, and Robert's war hammer. They both think highly of him. He was welcoming them warmly when they wanted to see him work: Stannis especially, has been very curious when he had told him he was going to forge his sword. He had wanted to be there with every step of it, and Donal had agreed nicely.
Cressen stands up again, and takes Stannis apart:
"The wound has started to be infected, my Lord. I will try to stop it, but if I fail… we will need to cut his arm off…" he whispers, not willing Donal would hear this.
Stannis pales a bit and nods:
"Do everything you can."
"My Lord?"
He turns to the butcher of the castle:
"What is it?" Stannis asks.
Within weeks, everybody has been calling him "my lord" and he has stopped correcting them: Robert is the Lord of Storm's End. But Robert is not here, and Stannis is the one who gives the orders, who takes care of the soldiers. Until Robert frees them, Stannis is their Lord. The man bows and hastily says:
"I have just realized the horse meat is almost done, my Lord."
Stannis holds back a loud sigh, and walks out with the butcher, to not scare the soldiers uselessly:
"What else do we still have?"
The butcher looks down, afraid:
"Speak up", Stannis orders.
"No-nothing my Lord… It's over…"
Stannis walks away a moment to think about it. This cannot end like this. And Robert, where the hell is he?... The Tyrells had taunted Stannis by yelling about Robert sharing a feast with Lord Tully in Riverrun, when his brother was starving to death with his men. Stannis had refused to believe them. He turns around again to face the butcher:
"How long can we hold?"
"A few days, I would say, my Lord", the butcher says.
Stannis nods and goes to see how Renly is.
He has been with his little brother for a few hours, reading to him, as the young boy is too weak to even hold a book, and a soldier comes in again:
"My Lord! Come, quick!"
Renly does not even protest when Stannis leaves:
"What, now?" he asks the soldier.
"Deserters, my Lord!" the soldier adds quickly, leading Stannis out.
Stannis's heart skips a beat. Deserters. How could it be? He grinds his teeth furiously, and follows the soldier, who leads him to four men. He feels his heart breaking when he recognizes Ser Gawen Wylde, the master-at-arms of Storm's End, who is obviously the leader of the little group. A knight, ready to surrender to the enemy. The young soldier stands by them:
"We caught them, my Lord. They were trying to sneak out a postern gate to join the Tyrells."
Stannis could ask them why they had done this, but it would be useless. The hunger has been making the men awful things. But had they forgotten he was suffering the same things than them? Had they forgotten he sometimes gave his ration to Renly, because the young boy needed to eat way more than him? He could have almost understood this treason if he would feast alone, and keep all the food for him, but it is not the case. They are unforgivable. The hunger has effects on him too: he has stopped having belly pangs, but sometimes, he had hallucinations and he was more moody than ever. Grinding his teeth, he turns to the young soldiers:
"Tie them up and place them on a catapult. If they want to join the Tyrells, we will help them do so."
"My lord, please!" Ser Wylde begs.
"How dare you beg me, Ser? I am simply granting your request", Stannis slyly retorts. He nods at the soldiers and they start strapping them on the catapults, the four deserters begging for their lives.
"My Lord…"
Another voice rings out, sweet and calm: Maester Cressen has joined them, and nods at Stannis. The young Lord walks to him and whispers, angrily:
"What?"
"We should not waste meat, my Lord" Cressen says, staring at Stannis's eyes. "Lock them in the cells. They could be useful…later… if the help does not come to us…"
Stannis stares dumbfounded at the old maester:
"Are you telling me you want to…eat them?" he asks him, glancing at the four men still begging.
"We won't have another choice if we are not freed quickly, my Lord."
Disgusted by the thought, Stannis nevertheless turns to his men and orders that they be locked in cells. Cressen nods at him, and the young man goes back to Renly.
A few days later, he is called by Maester Cressen: Donal's infection has spread, and the arm needs to be cut off. Donal does not react when Stannis tells him so, and turns his tired face to him:
"So now my Watch begins?..."
"You do not have to join the Night's Watch… We could find you a place in the castle, when the war ends…" Stannis protests weakly.
"I was made to forge arms, my Lord, you know it. I have loved serving your father and your brother after him. If I make it during this bloody war, I will join the Night's Watch. I could not stand seeing another man doing my duty. You know I would always be on his back", he laughs and winces immediately, his arm painful whenever he moves. "Chop this off, my Lord, please…"
Stannis stands up, gives him a sad look and unsheathes his sword. He digs it into a fireplace, and leaves it for a moment before taking the red blade out of it. Donal winces when he sees it:
"I guess it is gonna be bloody painful…"
Stannis holds his sword, as another man places the arm in the good position, making Donal yelp with pain.
"Ready?" Stannis nods and stands above him. The blacksmith nods fast, Stannis swings the sword and the yells of the armorer ring out until the ears of Mace Tyrell and his men.