"A grand feast," Benjen Stark said, winking at his sister. There was something in his tone, something more than mere playfulness. Was it mockery? It would not surprise Stannis if it was indeed mockery. Lyanna gave her brother a stern look, and the two Stark siblings engaged in a staring contest. Benjen lost; he was the first to look away, wilting under Lyanna's withering gaze. That did not surprise Stannis in the least.
"Perhaps we should invite singers and musicians to the feast, my lord. Or even fools and jesters," Maester Cressen had suggested. "To showcase the songs and stories of the south to Lord Stark and his sons. "
"He's been to the south before," Stannis had replied. "This is not his first time leaving Winterfell."
"The south, yes, but not the stormlands," Maester Cressen pointed out.
Singers with their bawdy, ribald and obscene songs. And songs about the romance and glory of wars and battles. Stannis wanted neither at his feast. Especially now. "Musicians only," he declared. "No singers, fools or jesters. And tell the musicians not to play too loudly."
Rickard Stark had not seemed displeased with the feast. Indeed, he was too busy conversing with the other guests to notice the lack of entertainment. At the moment, he was deep in conversation with Lord Estermont, their voices too low for Stannis to know what was the subject occupying his grandfather and his father-in-law. They had both glanced at Stannis from time to time, as if he was the subject of their conversation.
"And what did Robert do, then?" Renly's voice, loud and excited, could be heard clearly over the music. Ned Stark whispered something to him, and Renly laughed uproariously. Ned was laughing too, albeit not as loudly and rudely as Renly. Renly had cajoled, begged and pleaded Stannis to attend the feast. Stannis had absolutely forbidden it at first; the boy was too young and too unruly to behave properly in front of guests.
"They won't be here for long, the Starks. And it was so lonely when you and Lyanna were gone. I was here alone. You left me alone," Renly had complained, amidst his tears.
"Nonsense!" Stannis had snapped. "You were never alone. Maester Cressen and the rest of the household were here the whole time."
"It's not the same!" Renly had shouted.
"Stop shouting. If you can't behave yourself with me now, how can I trust you to behave yourself in front of all the guests?"
That had only made the boy cry harder. Stannis had walked away in anger, leaving Renly still sobbing. But he had let Renly come to the feast, in the end. He could not explain why, even to himself.
He was regretting that inexplicable decision now.
The music was still to loud for Stannis' liking. The boom boom boom of the drum was making his head pound incessantly. Even the sound of the guests slurping their soup irritated him beyond measure.
Why can't they eat without making so much noise?
When will this blasted feast end?
He was almost ready to explode.
Lyanna's hand grasped his hand firmly, her fingers tickling his palm. He turned to look at her, but her attention was seemingly fixed on Lady Selmy, the two women smiling and exchanging stories about … rabies? Or babies. Stannis could not tell for sure, Lyanna's fingers on his palm were so very, very distracting. He should make her stop immediately, he knew. But he let her continue. At least it was making the pounding in his head cease for a moment.
After a while, he realized that Lady Selmy was looking at him with a slightly quizzical expression on her face. Stannis quickly turned his face away.
What is the lady's problem?
Lady Selmy was whispering to Lyanna, but not softly enough to escape Stannis' hearing. "Lord Stannis must be very happy to be a father. I don't think I have ever seen him smile like that." She paused. "I don't think I have ever seen him smile at all, actually."
A commotion broke out at the back of the hall before Lyanna could reply to Lady Selmy. A man was making his way with haste to their table, knocking over a few serving boys carrying food and drinks in his urgency.
"Lord Baratheon. My lord," the man shouted even before he arrived in front of Stannis. Stannis recognized the man as the castellan of Griffin's Roost.
"A raven … a raven from King's Landing, my lord." He was breathless, barely able to speak.
"Give him some water," Stannis ordered a serving boy standing nearby.
"No, no, my lord. There is no time. A raven arrived from King's Landing. The king has arrested Lord Connington, along with Prince Rhaegar and Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard. The charge … the charge is treason, my lord. Conspiring to depose the king, to put Prince Rhaegar on the throne before his time comes."
Shock, confusion, and loud voices filled the hall. Before Stannis could say anything, Lord Cafferen was shouting. "Treason? Absolute nonsense! This must be the work of the Spider, whispering lies in the king's ears." Other voices joined in, the ruckus too confusing for Stannis to know what they were saying.
The castellan of Griffin's Roost was on his knees, pleading to Stannis. "My lord, Lord Connington is your sworn bannerman. He has always been loyal to you, and to your brother before you. He is being wrongfully and unjustly persecuted. Will you appeal to the king for justice?"
"Justice! Justice!" Multiple voices were shouting, among them Stannis' own grandfather, Lord Estermont.
Maester Cressen was making his way back to his seat with difficulty, his face grave, his hand holding a scroll. A scroll stamped with the royal seal. He started reading. "King Aerys II Targaryen hereby commands Stannis of the House Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, to present himself to the king -"
More noises and commotion, louder this time, drowning out Maester Cressen's voice. "Is the king planning to arrest Lord Stannis too?" Someone was asking, a voice Stannis did not recognize.
Lord Estermont stood up. "Perhaps it is time call your banner, Stannis, and march to King's Landing. If indeed the king plans to do the same injustice to you that he is doing to your bannerman Lord Connington, and to his own son. We will march with you, House Estermont. And the other Houses too, I am certain," he said, his gaze sweeping over the other lords.
"Yes!" Some of them cheered, but not all of them, Stannis noticed. Some stayed silent.
Maester Cressen was trying mightily to be heard over the ruckus and commotion, to no avail.
"Silence!" Stannis pounded his hand on the table. "Let the maester finish reading the letter."
The hall was as silent as a crypt, for the first time that night. Maester Cressen continued his reading. "The king has summoned Lord Stannis to King's Landing to accept the appointment as the new Hand of the King."
Shocked faces filled the hall, people looking at each other warily, trying to decipher what this meant. Lord Rickard smiled a sardonic smile. "Very brilliant and ingenious of the king," he said.
Stannis stared at his father-in-law with anger. "I am not a man that can be easily bought with riches and position," Stannis said in a caustic tone.
"No, no, no," Lord Rickard was shaking his head vigorously. "It is neither riches nor position the king is offering you. It is duty he is laying out for you, in a platter full of thorns. And he thinks he knows you well enough to know that you will not refuse it." Lord Rickard's eyes were not letting go of Stannis. "Is he right?"
Stannis did not reply; he made his way out of the hall instead. Lyanna motioned for the musicians to start playing again, and the feast continued with the next course, pigeons stuffed with mushrooms. Lyanna followed Stannis to their room.
"I'm coming with you. To King's Landing," she said, as soon as they were in the room and the door was closed.
Stannis was shocked. "I do not know yet if I will accept the appointment."
"But you are still going to King's Landing. If not to accept the appointment as Hand of the King, then to ensure that Jon Connington receives a fair trial."
Stannis nodded. "He is my sworn bannerman. It is my duty to see that he is not being treated in an unjust manner." He stared at his wife. "You know me too well."
"Too well for your liking?" Lyanna asked, smiling. It was the saddest smile Stannis had ever seen, on her face or on anyone else's.
"No," he said softly, his hand grazing her lips. "Don't say anything yet, just listen. You can't come to King's Landing."
Lyanna was about to protest, but the look on Stannis' face silenced her. "I need you here, at Storm's End."
"You have Maester Cressen, and the castellan. Storm's End does not need me."
"Yes, it does. Especially now. And Renly … Renly needs you too. And there is the baby to consider."
"We can bring Ren-" Lyanna started speaking, but then shook her head. "I am being foolish, aren't I? We can't bring Renly to King's Landing."
Stannis shook his head too. "No, we can't. We don't know what is going to happen at King's Landing. Things could get … dangerous." He hesitated. Closed his eyes to steel his nerves and say what must be said. "If something were to happen to me, you must protect Renly and our child. I don't trust anyone else to do it, not even my grandfather."
"I will," Lyanna replied without hesitation. She did not say, "nothing will happen to you." He was grateful for that. She had not said, "don't go." He was grateful for that as well.
It was the truth, what he had told her. About Renly and their baby, and about Storm's End needing its mistress in times of uncertainty. But he also wanted her here for her own sake.
Knowing his wife, though, that was the last thing in the world that would convince her to stay, so he did not tell her that.