S'up!
Gentle reminder – I'm using book version Renly in this story so he's more Baratheon like than the show portrayed.
Chapter 3: So It Begins
An hour later …
Corridor outside the Throne Room, Red Keep, King's Landing, Seat of power of House Baratheon (Baratheon/Lannister) in the Crownlands, Capital of the Seven Kingdoms
Word of a royal announcement had spread like wildfire around the Red Keep and not far behind it a wave of rumours for its cause. Nobles flooded the corridors of the Red Keep all marching towards the same destination with a buzz of excited chatter following them. Osric and Renly's bulky forms easily held their space against the tide, standing together off to the side, opposite the open double doors leading to the Iron Throne.
Osric occasionally glanced at the empty chair that his father was truly heir to. That he was currently inline to inherit. It was an ugly chair but a beautiful throne. A warrior's throne.
"Relax," Renly murmured as he waved a greeting to someone in the swarming crowd. "If you keep looking at the Throne some people will start to think you have designs upon it."
"I don't," Osric quickly whispered before wondering if the statement was true or if he should have even uttered it. He looked into the sea of faces to see only welcoming smiles and respectful nods come his way.
Renly leaned up-towards his ear, "Don't trust any of them. Snakes. Every single one of them. They are judging your clothes and picking apart your appearance right now. Most of them will have known who you are before you even entered the city."
"Is there something wrong with what I am wearing?" Osric asked, looking down at his riding attire. Sure, his tunic and breeches were stained from the effort of a day's ride but his dark, albeit slightly muddy at the bottom, cloak was covering most of him.
"Don't worry. I'll sort you out later," Renly assured with a pat on Osric's shoulder.
Osric cracked his knuckles in reply and leaned against the wall. The handle of his dagger dug into his back but the assurance it was there was oddly comforting to him as the assault of fake smiles and pleasantries continued around him.
After a few more minutes the flow of nobles still hadn't dwindled but the loud announcements of, "Make way for the King," parted the crowd instantly.
Osric pushed off the wall to see the Kingsguard emerging from the crowd, even identified the famed Ser Barristan the Bold to be the one leading their charge. The hurricane of white capes and gleaming armour stopped as it reached the two Baratheons. Ser Barristan gave a little nod at Renly before side stepping to reveal Robert Baratheon. The grin on his face was almost the same size as his girth.
"Renly! Good to see you back, perhaps I can use the coming celebrations to finally get you out on the hunt," Robert chortled before his eyes settled on Osric.
"Do you remember Stannis's boy, Osric?" Renly said but Robert ignored him in favour of clamping a paw down on his nephew's shoulder.
"Seven Hells! Last time I saw you you didn't even reach my hip and you were bawling your eyes out like a little girl." Another paw curled around Osric's bicep. "Now it looks like you could smash a few skulls in and get your wick wet at a click of your fingers."
"Your ... Grace," Osric managed out, unsure of what his response should be.
"None of that 'Your Grace' shit," Robert bellowed before pointing behind them at the now motionless eavesdropping nobles, "I get enough of that from all these arse lickers."
Osric nodded hesitantly at Robert until movement to his left caught his eye. Stannis Baratheon had broken through the ring of Kingsguard and now stood a mere foot away from him.
Father.
The man looked older. Thinner. His thick black hair had receded. His skin was paler than Osric remembered and his eyes although still hard held a tired weariness that hadn't been there before.
I guess ruling does that to you, Osric mused.
Robert released his nephew and Renly had the good sense to engage the King in a conversation Osric didn't care to listen to. His focus was firmly on the man now directly in front of him. He spied the golden pin on his father's lapel.
"Lord Hand."
"Osric."
The two stared at each other for a few silent moments that stretched. Osric had dreamt about this moment for years but now that it was here all he wanted to say couldn't be said in public and it seemed his father shared in his dilemma as his mouth didn't move one inch either.
Luckily Renly's silver tongue failed to keep Robert entertained for long and the King suddenly turned towards the Throne room, "Niceties later. I want to get this over with."
A minute earlier …
Throne Room, Red Keep, King's Landing, Seat of power of House Baratheon (Baratheon/Lannister) in the Crownlands, Capital of the Seven Kingdoms
Tyrion waddled up the steps in the throne room to seat himself by Cersei who sat alone by the empty Iron Throne. He rubbed his eyes and his head trying to dispel the after-effects of his late-night activities before turning his attention to his sister.
"What is this about? I can't remember the last time Robert made a royal announcement. Jon Arryn always did those."
Cersei ignored her brother, keeping her eyes wandering over the chattering crowd before them.
Tyrion leaned back in his chair, regretting leaving his bed for this, "Sister–"
"Shut up," Cersei hissed, her concentration broken.
"Why are we here? Should I guess?"
Cersei remained silent but that didn't deter Tyrion. He put his hands together in his lap as his mind went to work.
"Robert has finally chosen a new Hand and … you disapprove?" When Cersei parted her lips in displeasure, he knew he was right, "so our dear brother isn't Hand of the King nor our beloved father and neither is one of your lackeys so that leaves one of Robert's brothers. Probably Stannis since Renly was sent away."
"He's back now," Cersei revealed, "with Stannis's son."
"Another stag enters the lion's den."
"The boy doesn't matter, Stannis becoming Hand will make things more difficult."
Tyrion was very aware of what things Cersei was talking about but he glossed over the true meaning, "Yes, Lord Baelish will be quaking in his boots at the prospect of his brothels being outlawed but I doubt Robert would allow it."
"Take this seriously," Cersei fumed as the Throne Room continued to fill.
"Why? The rest of the Small Council will block his every decree behind his back and his unbending ways will get him nowhere in this city. It will be just the same as when he was Master of Ships."
"The balance of power in the Small Council is shifting, Stannis will appoint his smuggler as Master of Ships and with Renly back he has half the Council on his side. He's probably planning to put his son on the Small Council too."
"Unless Robert changes into a different man and disinherits your sons, you have nothing to worry about. Speaking of which, where is Joffrey?"
Cersei's biting retort was cut off as the Kingsguard, led by Ser Barristan, entered the Throne Room. The King followed in their wake with Renly, Stannis and what could only be the laters son trailing in his shadow. The square face, the sheer size and bright blue eyes were all Baratheon. The only mark of Florent in him was his large ears that were partially hidden by his long black hair.
He's five of me in every direction, Tyrion jibbed.
Robert slumped into the Iron Throne. Due to a lack of chairs, Stannis stood to his brother's right and Osric hovered at his father's shoulder with his hands fidgeting behind his back while Renly settled next to Osric, whispering into the younger lad's ear.
Tyrion smiled at his sister's pettiness. She had removed the chairs.
Robert stood and his distaste for Kingship was clear to everyone in the room as he rushed through the appointment of his brother as his new Hand to announce the Hand's Tourney.
"There will be a week-long tourney celebrating our new Lord Hand and the newest Knight of the Seven Kingdoms."
The cheers erupted and engulfed the room every bit as the muted applause had Stannis's appointment.
Robert heaved himself off the throne and snatched the sword Lancel was presenting to him, "Here Osric."
Osric complied and knelt before Robert with his head bowed. The sword was but a toothpick in Robert's meaty hands and he waved it around Osric's shoulders as his words welcomed another knight to the Seven Kingdoms.
Robert threw the sword back at Lancel, "Arise Ser Osric."
Osric did so with a sense of achievement, this had been a moment long in the making. He could hear Ser Cortnay's harsh advice in the back of his mind alongside the clang of dull metal meeting metal. Could taste the dust of Storm's End's practice yard in his mouth and feel Maester Cressen's cooling balm soothing well-earned bruises.
Robert slapped a hand down on his shoulder as the sound of clapping bounced around the Throne Room, "It's been a while since King's Landing has seen a Baratheon in his prime."
"Your Grace?" Osric said, flicking his gaze to his father for a second.
"Renly tells me you can fight. I've placed you in the Hand's Tourney; I want to see what you can do!" Robert boomed before unceremoniously turning away and leaving the Throne room by the side entrance.
Osric kept silent but watched as Queen Cersei and the Lannister Imp shuffled after Robert, with the Kingsguard mirroring their movement. Renly gave him an encouraging nod before stalking the Lannisters at an innocent enough distance.
"You did well."
Osric turned his head to see his father had taken up the position Robert had vacated.
"All I did was kneel."
"If all a knight had to do was kneel, there would be a lot more of them," Stannis stated simply.
Osric had so many questions for his father, why hadn't he visited Storm's End for over six years? Why hadn't he been made a royal page, or a squire at court? Why had his father all but abandoned him and Shireen in name?
Osric opened his mouth but his face must have betrayed his inner thoughts as he was immediately cut off.
"Not now, Osric," Stannis looked past his son's shoulders to the hundreds of eyes watching their every move.
"When?" Osric demanded, fury making his voice carry.
"When we are alone."
Osric folded his arms and turned to face the mob of nobles, "As you wish Lord Hand."
Stannis occupied the space beside him, "I will send for you when the time is right."
Then in a flash Stannis was down the steps leading to the throne and cutting through the lingering crowd.
His father's words ruminated around his head for a few minutes as his angry eyes flashed around the room and battered all who dared lock eyes with him.
I will send for you when the time is right.
He wasn't a servant in his father's household or a soldier in his army, he was his son and heir. The words didn't sit well with Osric. They kept going around and around in his head. He was tired of waiting. Tired of being in the dark. Being kept away and shunted to the side.
You can't ignore me anymore father.
He stormed through the Throne Room shoving anyone too slow to get out his way.
Half an hour later …
Stannis's Chambers, Maegor's Holdfast, Red Keep, King's Landing, Seat of power of House Baratheon (Baratheon/Lannister) in the Crownlands, Capital of the Seven Kingdoms
"As grim as ever," Renly muttered to himself, as one of his brother's guards shut the door behind him.
Stannis's solar contained no personal touches. No proud stag flags or intimidating paintings of Baratheon victories hung on his wall. The only furniture in the room was a well-used desk with a simple wooden chair behind it and a bookcase off to the side that was filled with books old and new. Renly fumed at the absence of a second chair. It sent a message that visitors weren't welcome and a lack of friends in the Court of King's Landing could be fatal to any noble found in that position and to those that support him.
Ultimately the room was devoid of any female touch, colour or personality.
Much like their occupier, Renly couldn't help but jib as his eyes locked onto his brother's back. At least after blood they had one thing in common.
Stannis was peering out the window, watching as the setting sun's shadows danced across the various Red Keep walls and towers visible from his location.
Brooding. That's what he's doing, Renly sighed to himself, stepping into the room. Stannis did little else when he was vexed and Renly had never known his brother not to be vexed by something.
Stannis must have heard his puff of discontent as he turned away from the window, "You have something you wish to say to me?"
Renly strode into the centre of the room, the area he felt most at home, "The Lannisters are pecking at Robert over the trip North but he's having none of it."
"And?" Stannis said bluntly, knowing there was more. There always was with Renly.
"You summoned Osric here, yet you've hardly talked to him."
"He only arrived today. He needs time to rest."
"He needs to be brought fully into our plan. He is your son. Our blood," Renly held his brother's hard stare, a skill he had worked on and was proud to have mastered.
"He's still a boy."
"He's taller than you now."
"He's still just a boy. He's naïve and green. He is not up to the task ahead."
"Perhaps a father's influence would have helped in the matter?" Renly slung in his nephew's defence. "Besides it is too late to debate this. He is here at your behest and knows our suspicions. Let him help. He wants to help."
Stannis ground his teeth together at Renly's initial insinuation of abandonment, "He had everything he needed in Storm's End – food, peace, and an educating fitting of his stature. You got the exact same."
"Until you sent me to the Riverlands to squire for the Blackfish." What a disaster that had been. Renly hadn't obtained the title Ser but he always thought Lord suited him better anyway and he had strengthened the ties between House Baratheon and House Tully through his strong friendship with the heir to Riverrun.
Renly strode elegantly to stand before Stannis, "Osric is kind-hearted but sensitive. Each time I returned to Storm's End without you by my side I could see the shadow of your absence grow on him. Now is the time to dispel it."
Stannis gave an imperceivable nod, "Now is the time for blood to stick together."
A commotion in the corridor beyond the door took their attention. Not a second later Osric burst through pinning one of Stannis's guards to the stone floor while another one could be seen in the corridor on all fours through the now wide-open door struggling to pick himself up off the ground.
"I said. Let. Me. Through," Osric spat at the man below him.
To the pinned and smaller man's credit he replied, "And I said the Lord Hand was not to be disturbed."
The sound of a nose breaking filled the room. Osric recoiled from the headbutt but didn't budge. He drew back a punch.
"Osric, get off him."
His father's command bounced around the walls in time with his thundering heartbeat. Osric turned away from the face he was about to pummel to his father's unimpressed gaze. He felt the warm blood running down his lips just as the embarrassment of how out of control the situation had gotten shot up his spine and heated his cheeks.
"I wanted to talk to you."
"You may do so but release my man."
Osric complied lending a begrudging hand to the downed man, "My apologies, Ser?"
"Ser Richard Horpe," the man answered with a deep smile gracing his ugly features. He accepted the hand up and adjusted the sword belt on his hip. "An honour to meet the future Lord of Storm's End. You were lucky I wasn't wearing a helmet."
"Ser Richard resume your post and help Estermont find his senses again," Stannis said, inclining his head towards the Stormlander still struggling to coordinate his limbs in the corridor.
Ser Richard bowed with an acknowledgment of "My Lord," and left the room, closing the door firmly. Osric straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back to avoid fidgeting under his father's stare.
Renly looked from father to son. So similar in physicality yet so different in countenance. Osric's loose long hair hid the majority of his face while nothing shielded the world from Stannis's stony features. Both tensed their jaws in the same way and one could not overlook the common Baratheon traits they had; long limbs, square faces, black hair, and blue eyes.
It was the very reason the three of them were together in this room now about to plot a Queen's downfall and incur the wrath of the West.
Baratheon's all looked the same.
Renly mercifully stepped forward and offered Osric a silk handkerchief, "For the blood dripping onto your tunic."
Osric took it wordlessly and pressed it against his nose. It hurt but he showed no reaction.
Stannis squared up to his son and looked directly up into his eyes, "What was so important that you would barge past my guards to speak to me?"
"You sent for me. I want to know," Osric hesitated and his eyes floated to the floor to see droplets of blood, "how I can … help."
Renly pettily whispered, "I told you," more to himself but the words reached all in the room.
Stannis let out a small breath of annoyance at his little brother's needling but focused on his son, "Renly told you about my suspicions and what happened to Jon Arryn as we investigated?"
"Yes," Osric lifted his chin and eyes to Renly who gave him an encouraging smile.
"He was an old man but not an ailing one," Stannis said in an even tone, "He was murdered."
"Have there been any attempts on your life?" Osric asked, wiping blood off his chin and crushing the handkerchief in his closed fist.
"Not yet but I imagine if I continue my investigation there will be."
"Should we not move quickly then? Gather the evidence we need to sway the King on the guilt of the Queen?"
Renly stepped towards them to make the conversation a triangle, "We are in possession of the Baratheon lineage histories book. It shows that there has never been a blond Baratheon. To test this with Robert's seed I visited one of Robert's bastards in the Street of Steel that said his mother was blond. Guess what his hair colour was?"
"If we have this evidence why not inform Uncle Robert?" Osric asked.
Stannis and Renly shared a strained look.
"It is not enough," Stannis ground out bitterly.
Renly continued, "It will be more definitive if we can link Queen Cersei to Jon Arryn's murder as well."
Osric eyebrows furrowed, surely the book coupled with the fact all his bastards are black of hair is enough? Then he figured out what the look between brothers had meant.
"You're afraid Uncle Robert won't believe you."
A dark shadow fell across Stannis's face but Renly took over, "We are afraid his ego won't allow him to believe the royal children aren't his. That a woman would deny him for her brother. I'm also apprehensive about what the court nobles will think of an uncle ousting his nephews to make himself the heir apparent to the Iron Throne. They might be more willing to believe a tale of a jealous, bitter brother who's always felt underappreciated finally taking what he feels he is owed."
"I am not their uncle. I am next in line to the Iron Throne. What the nobles of King's Landing think doesn't change what is," Stannis stated resolutely before solemnly adding, "I would never go against Robert."
"I know which tale the Court would favour," Renly replied, "and I don't see Cersei or Ser Jaime confessing to make it easy for us. If we fail it will be called treason and I'm not sure Robert would pardon us if we don't convince him of the truth."
With bloodied teeth Osric asked his question again, "How can I help?"
Renly held in his smile. His nephew had just been told how perilous their situation was but here he was ploughing on, not knowing the path ahead, willing to support a father that hadn't shown a hint of interest in him for near half his life. King's Landing normally ate those with such a trusting heart.
I'm going to have to keep you out of trouble, Renly noted to himself.
Stannis walked towards the desk, leaving Osric and Renly together, "Once the Lannisters are travelling North we will be free to carry on our investigations without interference or fear of reprisal. Until then do not bring attention to yourself."
"That might be impossible, brother," Renly clapped a hand on Osric's shoulder, injecting some light brevity into the dower atmosphere, "Osric here has a tourney to win. How fitting would it be for the Hand's son to win the tourney thrown in his honour?"
"There will be many great warriors participating in the tourney," Osric tried to shrug off the expectation.
"Nonsense, I'm betting a golden dragon or two on your success," Renly said joyously, "Let's get to down to the practice yard. I'm sure your friends will be wanting to celebrate your knighthood."
Stannis watched them go with cautious eyes. Renly had grown more comfortable in the snake pit that was King's Landing than he ever would while Osric had simply grown into a man. What sort Stannis couldn't say but he was sure the next few months would show him.
Author Notes:
Arise Ser Osric, time to show King's Landing what you can do with a mace and shield xD
Renly's backstory in this fic is different from canon. He's 23, only 5 years older than Osric. He essentially grew up with Osric in Storm's End until age sixteen (before Osric's Shipbreaker Bay incident) when he was sent to Riverrun to squire with Ser Brynden (didn't work out as he's Renly) so Robert but really Stannis summoned him to King's Landing to become Master of Laws. Been there ever since but returns to Storm's End regularly for special events e.g Osric & Shireen's birthdays, tourneys, feasts etc.
Osric, due to Stannis not taking an interest, hasn't left the Stormlands in his entire life and this is his first time in King's Landing so he's not very worldly.
Reviews:
DannyBlack70 – The theme of friendship is one I'm really happy to explore in this fic. I'm a sucker for a Varys & LF scene that sets the political stage up! Stannis as Robert's hand is a concept I personally haven't read before at this point in the story but I find it a really intriguing scenario xD Oh, we'll get to Ned … and the Starks soon.
Shadespace – Yes …. survive … you've read my stories before, right? The survival rate is very low lol. Robert's trip North also results in another big change from canon and I can't wait to show it to everyone. It might be a while before a Osric & Robb interaction …. if they ever interact at all that is …
AegonPotter – Hahaha dude that is why I write and I'll always return. Yes, so I'll update on Fridays (or earlier as is the case with this chapter) unless I'm taking a break between Arcs (phases of the story) like I did with DotF. Any breaks I'll notify everyone going forward as this story is now my sole writing focus.
Supremus85 – Yep, if Stannis got Storm's End he was going to get the Hand position for me. The good and the interesting doesn't just stop at Stannis being Hand either! You are rightish on the relationships but Cortnay literally pulled Osric from freezing waters as a child so it's hard to top that. Who says Ned Stark is dying this time ...
Valentin301099 – Thanks :)
Amok – I think so too!
Guest (commented 09/08/2022) – Thanks!
Next Up: Brienne & Brus test their steel, Osric's fury is released, and Jaime makes a lifelong enemy
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