The roaring sound of earth rending thunder signaled their arrival within Shipbreaker bay. Already he felt the ship churning and creaking as the waves of restless stormy sea battered their vessel in an attempt to beckon it into its watery chasms. He sat deep within his cabin, a mere lantern of Myrish make provided his only source of illumination. The rocking caused by the fury of salt water did not bother him in the slightest. He was after all the son of Storms.
Indeed, it was not the sea that bothered him.
It was in fact something else.
He quietly went through the letter once more, that which was previously sealed with the signet ring of his King-brother.
Once more he sent another word concerning his betrothal, now though his tune had changed.
He was pleading for Stannis to consider a breaking of his betrothal to Lady Cersei. The letter raved about the untrustworthiness of the lions and how they played their games with arrogant demeanor.
Stannis couldn't help but be at a loss for words.
The Lannisters did not say 'Hear me Roar' for no good reason.
He strived to understand the subtle meaning behind Robert's words, even if without Davos' council on what they could be.
All that he understood at its basic was that there had to be a conflict of interest between the Lord Paramount of Casterly Rock and his Kingly brother.
No doubt concerning Lord Tywin's sudden departure and return back to his lordly seat. If that was the case, then the direct cause for this could be Lord Tywin's efforts in having the Iron Throne in debt to his House through coin. If it were not for the meddling of Olenna Tyrell none of the lords would have known better.
The Houses of Lion and Rose had a secret war, a war that Stannis had only a cursory interest in and which Davos it seemed was investigating deeply.
The Mountain before he relieved Robert at Ruby Ford had taken a slight detour through the lands of the northern Reach, decimating many noble Houses with their garrison and lords gone. House Roxton in particular had been almost wiped out during the sack of The Ring, leaving only the aging Garth Roxton as the last living Roxton.
This vexed the Queen of Thorns greatly and was a major point of consternation between Lannister and Tyrell.
The game of thrones was a game not worth playing, a game for fools and wastrels who cared naught for duty.
The Rose and Lion should not let their childish games fracture the realm else they would be reprimanded quite harshly.
Yet Stannis couldn't deny that breaking off this betrothal was a powerful thought now in his mind.
Ever since she hugged him he believed that Lady Cersei has proven herself to be unsuitable as a wife.
He shared his troubles with Davos, who as well showed worry for the girl. In the smuggler's words he had believed Cersei Lannister loved him.
It was an amusing but naïve idea.
The word love however was not what he would described Cersei's affection for him.
Stannis was not as blind as people made him out to be, though women were unknown to him; even if he were to lose both eyes he would still notice just how obvious Cersei was in showing her affections now.
At first he thought she was merely trying to seduce him, using her womanly wiles to soften his deposition. Now he believes she truly is infatuated with him, or the idea of him.
Yet it was not love.
Stannis knew what love was.
He had seen and touched it once, when both his father and mother were still alive, a dangerous substance that quite often would make dutiful men drunk and fail in their purpose.
He had thought he felt the same when Cersei did that little impressive display of acting.
Soon after he realized how much of a fool she had made out of him.
Cersei didn't love.
All she did was envy.
Lady Cersei he believed did not think of anyone but herself, all she cared was of her own environs and her own circumstance.
This revealed to him after that one single embrace.
Those words he had told to her that first night, granting her a seat within his council, the extravagant tourney and the gift of the dagger.
All they did was further fuel her unhealthy fixation after some period of introspection.
Davos did not agree fully to Stannis' theories on the girl. He thought he was simply seeing more conspiracies were none existed.
Stannis knew otherwise simply because he also was victim to such a thing.
After all those little moments he had with her, how often she seemed to be mercurial in her emotions; how at times she seemed angered by his deeds whilst in others she acted as if she longed for his word.
He recognized them.
A man like he.
Had recognized why Lady Cersei Lannister acted so queer.
What Stannis was to Cersei, Robert was to he.
Robert was his one obsession, he was always compared to him. He hated how none acknowledged their differences, he hated how he found a small part of him envious of how often noble and smallfolk alike would lavish his brother.
He wanted to be recognized, without Robert's shadow casting over him.
Yet.
To him Robert remained among the greatest Lords he had ever known when they were younger, now even to some extent; no matter how reality said otherwise.
Stannis idolized Robert, he was his brother and one of the last of his body and blood.
Stannis wanted Robert's affections, he wanted Robert to say his thanks for his efforts during the rebellion.
He wanted something that showed he still cared after so long.
Like how he did back when mother and father were lost to them.
They argued, they fought and quarreled. Robert bullied him, and Stannis fought back.
Yet they were brothers, Robert himself said that would never change. He remembered when Robert and he stared unbelieving as their parents perished within the waters outside their home.
He remembered Robert declaring an oath that they would remain family no matter what the whims of fate.
Robert had revealed himself an oathbreaker when he said those words back within the Red Keep.
When Stannis insulted his cherished wolf wife.
Those words that haunted his mind every day as he sat on Dragonstone.
'You are no brother of mine.' Those words he said made his blood cold, his lungs collapse and his mind numb.
Stannis tightened his fists, clenched his jaw, and felt a thick lump within his throat. His eyes watered and his vision glazed over.
Not here.
He was not going to lose himself here in a ship headed towards Storm's End.
This moment of quiet reflection, made his thoughts linger back to Cersei. Was this what Cersei felt as well? This obsession that brings only fear, doubt and self-ruination?
It terrified him.
It was terrible enough to deal with his own damned emotions, how then does one deal with such emotions when it takes the form of an arrogant and hysterical girl?
Stannis couldn't help but frown at his hypocrisy, he was considering denying the marriage to Lady Cersei Lannister only because she revealed herself to be like him in one particular regard.
It churned his stomach to know of this. Stannis was aware of times when it would be difficult if not impossible to reconcile duty with reality, in those times he did not compromise; simply finding another solution that fulfilled his duty without infringing on its basic tenants.
Now?
Stannis was afraid, he had been neglecting his duties. He was indulging in wasteful expenditures and ostentatious gallantry. This was not his duty, his duty was to administer Dragonstone faithfully, without question or deviance.
Lady Cersei had changed that; she was a malignant influence on him.
She was eroding his sense of duty.
She needed to be gotten rid of for his sake and hers.
Was this why he was going to Westerlands?
To finally settle things with Lord Tywin, and not ask for him concerning such a petty thing as an unattended nameday?
But he couldn't deny that she as well had reminded him of something important. That she was a helpful influence as well.
Storm's End was his.
By right and blood.
Not even Robert could deny this; it bothered him that it took Lady Cersei Lannister to make him realize this for it all just deepened his sense of guilt and shame on his own failings as a dutiful lord, son and brother.
Lord Ralph Buckler was a stick thin man of lithe frame; his head had a fuzzy patch of brown with a perfectly pyramidal goat like beard; his eyes shined dark ocean blue and his face was sharp, like a finely ground piece of stone work.
He cut a grim and intimidating figure, the fact he remained unperturbed during the fierce storm only served to accentuate his stoic image.
He was a Stormlord, this was expected of him.
"As Castellan of Storm's End, I welcome you Prince Stannis Baratheon." Even in the midst of this deafening howling wind the new Castellan and ruling reagent of Storm's End managed to make himself easily heard.
Even so Stannis was deaf to his words, all he did when the looming structure of Storm's End loomed over the horizon from their ships was stare.
Storm's End was magnificent.
They were several yards away from it, there was no place by the castle itself that would serve as appropriate anchorage underneath the battering winds. The castle was built upon Durran's Point, where the great Storm King defied the God's and wed their daughter. He built seven castles to withstand their divine rage, only the seventh survived their curses.
Storm's End, that which defied the gods.
It was a powerful tale.
Stannis only gave cursory nod in response to his words, Lord Ralph Buckler was a wise man in knowing Prince Stannis was a man of little words.
Their small retinue were unaccustomed to the weather, the Westerland's maidens were trying their hardest to push down their dresses; his two squires fared a little better, Ronnet more so because of his Stormlord's blood.
Ser Ronald and Ser Davos could not accompany him; Ser Davos was ruling Dragonstone as its Castellan while Ser Ronald was recuperating from his injuries sustained in his battle against Tygett Lannister, only Ser Ilyn Payne was with them and some Lannister guards.
The Silent Knight remained as quiet and resolute as ever, withstanding the winds with stride.
Among these disparate group his eyes fixated on one in particular.
Lady Cersei had wonder in her eyes, breathless at the sight.
"It looks powerful." She responded as they began their trek towards the castle itself.
Stannis frowned at how she spoke of Storm's End.
She sounded as if she was already Lady of its walls, as if her marriage to Stannis was all but assured after her little display.
Stannis felt a pang in his chest.
She looked so happy, but it was a false happiness.
She coveted Storm's End for herself, not for him.
He wondered, would she still have that wonderment in her eyes if it were not Stannis? Would she have been happier if Robert was to be her betrothed?
Stannis looked at her voluptuous body and her fair face.
She was a Queen, that was the look he saw in her.
A Lannister Queen.
Selfish, arrogant, vain and heedless of others. A prideful and passionate thing that would take what was to be hers, damn the consequences.
Stannis felt envy.
What had duty as a Baratheon gotten him?
A desolate seat, the hatred of former Targaryen bannermen and abandonment from his family.
What would have life been like if he was born a Lannister? All of that vanity and pride his to command and to own?
Stannis felt a sheer terror gripping his heart, it took great strength and dignity for him to remain impassive. They were now underneath the portcullis that lead to Storm's End and many eyes were on the Lord who once suffered a ruinous siege to guard this same fortress.
Fortunately, none had noticed the beads of sweating now falling from his brow.
This was what he had been dreading.
The corrupting influence of a Lannister wench.
She had done what a year's worth of starvation and the might of the Reach could not have done, what years of resentment and scorn of Robert failed to do.
She made him doubt himself.
It was the most horrible feeling he had ever known.
They said that love was a terrible poison that could kill even the most powerful of things, duty counted among them.
No.
He did not love her.
She was vain and shallow. She had no inkling of what duty was, she was weak and easily moved. Her whims were mercurial and she acted rashly without caution. Her foresight was limited, her heart arbitrary.
She could not love him, she only loved something her mind thought he was.
She did not love Stannis Baratheon.
She loved something that looked like him but was not truly him.
Stannis Baratheon was not a man to be loved nor to love.
Only duty mattered.
It was the only thing that mattered.
If it wasn't.
Then he would lose himself.
He would have nothing.
No family, no pride and no reason for living.
He should have expected this as they quietly feasted, a somber attitude permeating within the air of the dining hall of Storm's End. This was to be expected.
Lord Ralph Buckler had a look of worry in his face when he had delivered the news.
Renly was missing; they could not find him.
They had scoured the halls of Storm's End looking for him, they were confident he did not leave the fortress and so must have been hiding.
This was to be expected.
Robert had said he was no brother of his.
Why would little Renly not be of the same mind?
He ate the cooked lamprey stuffed with cheese, chewing on it several times. His teeth grinding as he did so. The last time he was here, there was nothing to eat but old boots and onions. Yet even so he remembered those troubling times with more enthusiasm than he had currently as he sat.
The party that accompanied him were just as quiet, as if they felt the mood of the Lord who was leading them.
This was not surprising.
So why then was he angry?
He noticed a pair of sad eyes on him. They were by his side, quietly eating as well.
Lady Cersei had a solemn look to her, one of disappointment and despondence.
She showed him eyes that sought for repentance.
As if she was to blame for this.
He did not blame her for this, though she asked for them to pass here; the choice to actually do so was entirely within the fault of Stannis himself.
He wanted to come here, even if he would deny it to anyone who asked him.
This was his ancestral seat.
This was his home.
He was born here, raised here, starved here and saw death here.
In Dragonstone he felt his mind ebbing away claimed slowly by madness, he needed to be rid himself of it.
He wanted to be back home.
Yet it did not feel like home.
It felt like he had never left Dragonstone at all.
Why was he here? Why was he standing here?
The wind was searing, he felt it cutting his skin like tiny razors. His eyes never strayed from the sight he was seeing, a dark shadow that spewed out rain and lighting was tormenting the waters of Shipbreaker Bay.
He remembered this spot, this was where he stood when he saw them die.
This was the spot that he lost all care for the God's who killed parents in front of children. The memory clung to his mind as fresh as it was when he was a child. He remembered Robert at his left with Maester Cressen on the right. He remembered how Robert laughed in joy, and how he tried to stifle a smile as well at their return.
He remembered as it smashed against the hidden rocks, Windproud, he remembered their joy turned horror.
He remembered, and he wanted to forget.
"Lord Stannis?" No, it couldn't be.
He felt the sounds of dainty slippers walking over stone, he remembered grunts of effort as a Westerlands maid tried to protect her long hair from billowing wildly in the wind.
"Why are you here by your lonesome?" Quickly she found herself by his side, even in the face of such perilous winds.
The strands of her lovely golden hair were blocking her eyes. He heard the struggle in her voice under such adversity.
She should not be here.
Not here, nor on this castle, nor by his side and nor her hand promised to him.
She should have never have come.
She was heedless of his silence, merely moving her sight towards where he stared. The wind was dying now, the ravenous storm now abating at a steady pace until all was calm and silence reigned once more.
It was long indeed until something other than the sound of passing breeze graced their ears.
"Was this where you saw them last?" He grabbed the parapets so hard that he felt the blood on his hand heating like a forge.
Why?
Of all the possible questions she asked that one? Why did the God's saw fit to torment him further? Why did their cruelty have no bounds?
She remained silent, she seemed to know any further questioning would not be the wisest course.
"They loved you. Your parents." Stannis whipped his head at her, a burning hatred in his eyes.
She looked at him surprised, as if she did not expect her words to cause such a beastly reaction.
"What do you know of love?" He said with vile and disgust.
She opened and closed her mouth several times, her mind still thinking of an answer.
"To care for someone? "She said with glib innocence, as if that was good enough.
"Is that all? Is that all is needed for love? I can care for a horse, or for a tree. Does this mean I love them?" She looked uncomfortable. She expected something else no doubt, she expected him to melt like some soft knight from one of her tales. She expected him to lose grip of his emotions and break down weeping about his lost parents.
She expected that she would be here to comfort him, to tell him they loved him and that was all that truly mattered.
The gall of her.
This Lannister bitch.
He was not some simpering fool easily lead astray by the charms of vapid beauty.
She dared use her parents against him.
Using his memories of them like some piece in Cyvasse.
The love of the death did not compare to that of the living.
"It is to care and know someone deeply, to understand their wants and desires and their dreams?" She tried to save face, the panic in her eyes so evident to him.
"How? How does one know someone? Know their wants? Their needs? Their desires? Their fears and their hopes? How does one know of such a thing? Through knowledge? Assumptions? Baseless fantasies and delusions? By asking them? By your own meaning have you ever loved anyone then? Know someone's wants? Their desires? Their dreams?" She stepped back groggily, as if he had hit her on the face with an iron gauntlet.
Those eyes.
Those eyes made him feel something terrible.
Those were tortured and pained eyes, he had seen such eyes on men who had just lost their limbs.
Her lips quivered, her mind gone blank. She was not expecting this.
He was not expecting this.
"I do… I- "She stopped, her eyes lingering on him. She wanted to say something, say something else.
But those eyes widened.
No." She said finally, a realization hitting her suddenly.
"I have never truly loved anyone." She said dead, no feeling nor any of that Lannister arrogance.
He stared at her, at how she trembled like grass waving in the wind.
"Lady Cersei I-"She forced a smile, cutting off what he wanted to say.
"I shouldn't have disturbed you my Lord." She croaked out.
"I didn't mean for this unpleasantness to happen. For me to rudely reawaken painful memories." She choked back on her tears.
"M-May the Lord let me excuse mineself?" She was on the verge on crying now.
All Stannis could manage was a limp nod.
He looked back at her retreating form, of how her arms seem to glide over her eyes.
She was a liar.
She was a temptress.
She did not love him.
She couldn't love him.
It was impossible.
He walked in a daze, his mind clouded and his limbs feeling limp. He felt as if he quaffed an army's worth of tankards.
He did not have any destination in mind, his legs were guiding him without any sort of guidance from his will.
He asked her if she truly loved, if she had understood anyone and loved them truly. Her answer was not what he expected.
She should have denied him, should have said something else. How did her denial make him feel so restless?
He stopped as he found himself before an old door. It took some scant minutes for him to realize this was the main bed chambers.
Father and mother would have slept here.
He did not know what sort of force possessed him to do so, but he entered it. The first thing he noticed was how dusty it was, nothing had been touched, for many years maybe.
"You found me!" From behind the bed something popped out, so suddenly that it shocked him out of his stupefied state.
"Renly?" He blinked as he saw his frivolous brother before him.
"You're bad at this game Stannis. Robert played it better." The boy beamed at him, he looked so much like Robert when he was younger.
He noticed now, how some parts of the floor had the dust disturbed, leading to a path behind the bed.
"Renly. You are Lord of Storm's End. Why did you not greet us?" Stannis couldn't believe it; he had been hiding here for the past hours?
Was the boy mad?
"It isn't fun being Lord, well sometimes it is; but sometimes it isn't. I just wanted to play a game is all. Though mayhaps I should have told you first." He smiled at him, so innocent.
"You know I'm not one for games." Stannis would have been angry at Renly's failure as Lord if he was not tired so.
"Come on! I was so excited when you were coming! Just one game!" He whined.
"Excited? Don't you find me boorish?" Renly regarded him queerly.
He was a young boy of seven years. He did not understand fully the troubles that plagued the House of Baratheon.
"Yes, quite boorish; but you're still my brother aren't you? And I've wanted someone to play with me for so long, Lord Ralph doesn't like playing; no one else does." Stannis couldn't believe it.
"Brother?" Stannis repeated as if the word was new to him.
"That's what they tell me, are you ill brother?" Renly japed with a childish glee.
He was a child.
Of course.
He couldn't have known.
"I apologize." Stannis sobered up.
"What for?" Renly asked with curiosity.
"I did not play the game correctly. May we try again?" Renly jumped with giddy joy.
Stannis Baratheon was not a man for petty things, always doing what was expected of him with grim determination.
Playing with Renly was one of the most foolish things he had ever done.
Yet if he did not do so, he dared not think what would have been his state of mind if he continued further on their journey
This was possible because of Cersei.
Now his mind did not know what to make of her.
He had thought she was playing him all this time; but those tears, every time she cried. Only a true monster would shed such tears without nary a tinge of emotion and Cersei Lannister didn't seem to be a monster.
Not as far as he knew.
She was like Renly.
A child.
Even if flowered and a woman grown.
She still had a child's view of the world.
A child curious about everything she saw.
A child that wanted to be like her elders.
This both angered and saddened Stannis.
Now he was looking forward to Casterly Rock, wanting to know exactly what kind of man Lord Tywin was for raising such a broken girl.