A.N: I am still trying to figure out the pairing for this fanfiction. Daenerys/Durran or Sansa/Durran? I am personally more inclined to write the latter.

Robert's POV

He only ordered the two men back in when his son stopped the flow of his tears and fell asleep against his broad chest. Robert glanced at the child's now peaceful face, his own older heart broken. When did it all go so wrong? Had he been oblivious to his own heir's need to such an extent?

The child was right. The further he was from his mother's control, the better he would be. Robert was almost considering to have his son fostered, but the only option he saw was the North and that was a bit too far for his own taste.

"I take it did not go so well." Thoros said, his tone bordering sarcasm. Robert could only shake his head and sighed heavily, before speaking out in a hushed tone; "I've never seen a mother treating her own child so coldly or cruelly before."

Jon Arryn rested his palm against the child's head, his gaze sorrowful. "There is still the matter of his education. I no longer think Pycelle is truly reliable, nor is he a maester true to his vows."

The red priest slouched against the armchair. "The prince mentioned a certain Xaharos. He is an old acquaintance of mine, and I certainly owe him more than my own life. He has taken an interest in the child - and to my knowledge he only does so with promising individuals." Said child within Robert's arm was the center of his attention, his facial expression impenetrable. "I am surprised to learn that he is in King's Landing, in the guise of a book keeper."

"What of him?" Jon inquired. "Who is he?"

"Xaharos Dorhyan is a Qartheen I have met during my travels. A man of great knowledge and many trades - He completed his education at the Citadel while being a renowned alchemist in Essos. He never took the Maester's oaths however. Some say that he is much more than all that."

"One of those damned pyromancers." Robert grunted "Is he a discreet individual?"

"Very much so." Thoros affirmed, still staring at Durran. His gaze made Robert shift uncomfortably on his chair; it felt like the damned red priest knew much more that he'd let on. He then glanced at the brazier nearby his seat, the flames twirling high and dancing with unnatural fervor.

Robert was by no means superstitious, but something in this sight sent chills down his spine. The glow of the fire was cast upon his son's face, making his feature light up and stand out like a torch in the darkness. The King blinked a few times - he most likely drank a cup too much.

After a pause that seemed to border eternity, Jon finally contemplated; "Between me, this Xaharos Dorhyan, Stannis and Tyrion" - To which Robert scoffed, but was silenced by his Hand's glare - "Yes yes, Tyrion. Tyrion is quite renowned for his knowledge and wit - Believe me, out of all these Lannisters he is possibly the closest thing I have as a friend. Plus Durran has taken a liking of him. What I meant is that the prince's education would not be an issue." The man simply looked at the child with a fond smile, before reaching out for the book he was clutching so tightly against his small body.

Robert frowned in mock dismay "By the rate my son is going, if I didn't know any better I would believe that it was Stannis or Tywin who sired him. Him and his damned smarts."

"It is not a bad thing." Lord Arryn concluded.

"You mean he'd make a far better King than I ever was. I swear the Iron Throne has been molded after his ass."


Stannis's POV

Stannis often wondered if Robert would've been happier if Rhaegar picked another woman, even if he wouldn't be king then. His older brother has taken the habit of heavy drinking and neglecting his duties, spending his time ordering useless frivolities and increasing the gap in the crown's treasury. If it kept going on this way, Lord Baelish would have to take a trip to the Iron Bank of Braavos. He knew that after five years Robert was still cross at him for allowing the last Targaryens to escape - he was sure of it. If not, why would he have been granted Dragonstone instead of the family's ancestral seat, as it is his by right?

The King ordered every last Targaryens to be killed, rejoicing in the sight of the brutalized corpses of Rhaegar's children. Did he forget that father was himself half Targaryen? Did we mayhaps inherit some of their madness?

Robert is going from once a fine warrior to a bloating, hateful man. He despised ruling, he despised all of these endless councils meetings - he despised his duties. Stannis tried reminding him many times, only to be told off until Lord Arryn advised him otherwise; Robert would never consider any of his brother's inputs. Stannis clenched his jaws as he headed back from the tower of the Hand, his mood soured by these endless responsibilities. The King did not make them easier.

"Uncle Stan."

A small hand reached out from behind him, clasping his much larger one. Stannis squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled slowly for a while, before turning to the earnest face in front of him.

"You're scowling." The child's little voice piped up.

"I thought you said I was always scowling."

"It's not the same kind of scowl. This one is angry." He replied, undeterred.

Since when did five years olds became so proficient at reading me?

"What do you want, Durran?" Stannis snapped. The prince only looked up to him, a stubborn glint shining in his eyes.

"Why do you bother with all this, if it makes you so upset?"

Stannis paused for a while. "It is my duty. Just as it is yours to keep yourself safe until you inherit the throne - you will have a kingdom to rule."

The child had the decency to look abashed then. He must have realized that his uncle was referring to earlier events this day. "I know."

"With freedom comes responsibilities. You are born a prince and have duty towards the realm and it's people." His gaze softened as he looked into his nephew's large blue eyes. He was still wondering why he even humored the boy with such talks.

"What about duty to the King?"

"That is not duty. That is loyalty."

"What's the difference?"

Stannis would often forget that it was a child he was talking to. Until said child eventually comes up with a child-like answer.

"Duty is what you must do, whatever the costs. Loyalty is where your faith and allegiance lies."

"What if your allegiances goes against your duty?"

Smart boy. He'd obviously given this some thought.

"Justice will overrule it. Justice protects the weak and innocents, and gives the sinful their punishments accordingly."

The young prince remained silent at that, looking in the distance. He was following Stannis into his own office and the older man wondered why, but kept the question to himself.

His work chamber possibly looked as dull as his personality. It was not brightly lit, had one dark brown desk with many drawers. There was a large bookcase on the right wall, while the other one was covered with maps. A shipmaster's room - Stannis had a hard time keeping the bitterness at bay. Durran took the seat in front of the table, the one facing his.

"Don't you have lessons?" He asked the child pointedly.

"Not today. I thought I would keep you company."

"Why me?"

"Because you have a way of telling things. "

Stannis merely glowered at that and the child answered with a cheeky smile. He just glanced through his documents instead, making a goal of ignoring the sometimes infuriating little boy in front of him. He took a sip of his favorite drink - salted lemon water.

"You're also my favorite Baratheon uncle."

Said uncle almost choked at that. He looked at his nephew's face, trying to see if there was any traces of insincerity. He found none.

"What about Renly then? Not many would say that I am their favorite in anything."

"You're blunt and say what you mean. Maybe that is what makes people dislike you."

Stannis could feel his lips quirking upwards, into what might be closest to a smile he's ever had. The way Durran puts it made it sound like a compliment, plus the child's grin seemed genuine enough.

"Renly is just a stupid pretty boy." He then proceeded to quip in, to which Stannis scoffed.

"Careful now. He is your uncle."

"He's ten."

"And you are five."

"He's still stupid. Him and his worries about pretty little clothes. Last time I saw him he spent his time parading around like a glorified peacock."

Stannis simply sighed. At least the prince did seem to value honesty, unlike most people in this forsaken place.

"Will you ever take me aboard a ship?"

What is it with children and constant topic changes?

"Where to?"

"Anywhere. I want to travel one day."

"Perhaps a few years from now then. Now I've got things to do."

Durran simply decided to stay there and read instead. Stannis was not sure if he should be annoyed or glad for the company. It wasn't even a few minutes later before the child asked him another question ;

"How was the siege of Storm's End?"

He was considering to send the child away - it felt like the vein at his temple was about to pop out.

"Are you sure you want to hear about this?"

Durran nodded, his eyes wide and shining with anticipation. Stannis grind his teeth audibly, willing himself to calm down before giving an answer - why am I even putting up with this? It seemed like the prince was being purposefully irritating. Stannis started going on about the different strategies he undertook to defend the castle - and how bad it got after a year. How they were all reduced to famine by the end of it, the smells of rotting sickness permeating the air. How they had to eat boiled leather and rats by the end of it - how some even started eating the corpses of the fallen to sustain themselves. By the end of his tale, the boy looked horrified and Stannis could not stop to feel both a mixture of guilt and satisfaction at the child's expression. You reap what you sow.

"Did you expect a fancy story of glorious heroes? The world is no story, boy. You best get used to that."

"I already know."

The child remained silent for a while, causing Stannis to be completely mystified by his behavior. The older man knew that he cared a great deal more than he'd like to admit about the boy in front of him. He was the only one, along with Jon, who never wished to slight him or besmirch his reputation.