Reviews make me write faster! - I use the quatermaester interactive game of thrones map when writing.

Apologies for the delay, I contracted covid and it was a very rough ride, though thankfully I avoided hospital by the skin of my teeth. Then everyone excusing the tory government's criminal incompetence and negligence as more people die in the UK per day than died on the Titanic with 'they're doing their best!' left me too depressed to write. But I'm back in the saddle now, so on with the story.

Renly Baratheon

The sun was past its zenith as the sound of wooden swords clashing rang through the halls of the Red Keep. Arya and Edric danced as Syrio put them through their paces while I simply stood and watched. My mind wandering as this was one of the few places I wouldn't be accosted by members of the court.

"My son is looking for you."

I nearly jumped out my skin at Ned Stark's words. I'd been brooding very deeply indeed if I hadn't noticed his approach.

"I see." I returned nonchalantly. Even if Ned was well aware of how much he had startled me, I didn't intend to confirm it. "Will he be continuing as Ser Loras' squire?"

"Aye. And he will be more mindful of locked doors in future." Ned replied, frowning.

"You seem troubled by the idea Lord Stark, which is strange as you obviously haven't taken this opportunity to end his squireship. Nor I suspect have you voiced whatever concerns you have to him, given that he's willing to continue." I spoke cautiously, sending out gentle feelers to try and find out what had gone wrong.

"You've taken a great interest in my family." Ned remarked coolly. "I believed your tale of a sense of solidarity with Bran, and I believed that you intend Jon as your future Castellan so that you can forge an alliance with House Stark that is as strong as you can make it without children of your own. But now Arya too? Am I to believe that you have had some great revelation that makes you feel solidarity with her as well? Will Sansa be next on your list of revelations? Your interest in my children continues to grow and I like it not."

I gestured towards the windows and Ned reluctantly followed as the practice session continued behind us.

"You seem to believe that the Seven Kingdoms revolve around your family Ned. It's understandable, as a parent, yet a casual stroll through the dungeons that hold lunatics will prove to you that believing something doesn't make it true." My tone was equally cool as I replied, smiling icily at the Lord of Winterfell.

Ned simply stared at me. "Yet your squire suddenly joins Arya in her lessons, putting you close to her, and within the week she speaks of you with as much devotion as she has for Syrio. You interfere with my family too much. I will not have you plotting Arya's fate as well as Jon's."

"Yes, how dare I give Jon a better choice than serving out his entire life at the Wall, never knowing anything other than cold, and death, and scorn, never having a life." I smiled sharpy, digging the metaphorical knife into his guilt.

Anger replaced the cold expression on Ned's face as I reminded him what would have happened without me. What had been the best fate Ned could give Jon, despite the love he professed he had for him, because he was unwilling to stand up to his wife.

He opened his mouth to berate him, but I cut across before the words could leave his mouth. "As for Arya? There are two children in this chamber my lord, what makes you think Arya is the one I'm plotting the fate of?"

Now Ned's face held nothing but confusion. "But there are many ways that you could have arranged for Edric to learn the fighting style of the salty and sandy Dornish. This only makes sense if you're using him as an excuse to gain access Arya."

"An interesting trick my lord; you move your mouth and your wife's voice comes out." I spat bitterly.

Ned's expression turned hostile again. "And why should I not listen to my wife?"

"Because she listens to Lord Baelish so attentively." I answered, my voice wrapped in frost. "In her words, I hear naught but the whispers Littlefinger has poured into her ears. My how skilfully that man makes people dance to his tune."

Ned looked as sullen as Jon Snow ever did as he found himself unable to refute my accusation. "Does it matter if he has the right of it? You want to control Arya, to turn her into another of your little followers."

My cold smile was back in place. "Do I? Then banish me from her presence, I care not. Though the girl is a delight she means nothing to me in an of herself. She is but one of many candidates for Edric's hand. And though she is the most promising, there are many others I can introduce him to."

Ned stared at me, utterly stunned. "You want to arrange a betrothal for him? A betrothal with Arya?!"

I was lying through my teeth about not caring for Arya of course, control of her was indeed my goal. It had been the biggest reason I had summoned Beric Dondarrion and Edric Dayne to Storm's End. But as Ned did not expect to be dying anytime soon, such a long-term plan as marriage wouldn't give that impression. Not when Arya was only twelve and would supposedly be under her father's protection for another four years at a minimum.

"As I said, not everything revolves around your family Lord Stark. Arya would be a good match for Edric, but she is only one option. I have no plans for her, nor interest in her beyond that she meets Edric's requirements of a wife very well. If you find the match unsuitable simply say so, Edric shall leave these lessons and I will never speak to the girl again."

Given Ned's coldness to me and the growing concern over the level of interest I had in his children, I was certain that Littlefinger had spun a tale of a grand plot to make Arya trust me and turn her into another of my little band of misfits. Then, gradually, into a puppet to use in whatever grand scheme I had in mind, which would – of course – be to the detriment of House Stark.

I hoped that the revelation that the supposed grand plan was, in fact, a simple investigation of a possible betrothal, of the kind Ned would be receiving dozens of if Sansa wasn't already betrothed and Arya wasn't so wild, would damage the mockingbird's credibility in Ned's eyes. I might have lost the battle for Ned's trust, but every bit of Littlefinger's influence that I could chip away could only help me.

"Why Arya?" Ned asked after a moments silence.

"Do you remember the conversation that you had with her when you found her balancing on the stairs?" I asked calmly, looking out over the lush green forest of the Kingswood.

Ned rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I supposed I shouldn't be surprised that you know about that."

"You had the conversation openly in the Red Keep Ned. You shouldn't be surprised that everyone from here to Sunspear knows about it."

I was sure that Ned's expression had soured, but I kept my gaze on the verdant green of the forest, on life. Tying to ignore the fact that I was gambling with children's lives.

"She said that she would never marry and be a lady," Ned replied shortly, "she said; 'that's not me'."

"Interesting that you focus on that part." I made sure my smile was cryptic as I turned to look at the Lord of Winterfell.

"And what part should I have focused on?" Ned barked angrily.

"I believe she asked you if she could be lord of a holdfast first." I answered mildly, making Neds mouth shut with a clack.

"You see Ned, Edric is completely unsuited for Lordship. With steel in his hands any insult passes him by, he just blocks them out, confident that he'll win. Without it? That confidence disappears and he collapses at the first sign of defiance. His numbers are terrible, his ability to read people is dire, and he has no head for the daily logistical grind that keeps a lord's lands and people well looked after."

I watched as Ned dragged his gaze from me to focus on Edric, his ash blonde hair and purple cloak both dancing as he moved. He looked every inch the young lord, but that appearance was deceiving.

"Edric will be one of the best fighters in the realm, but he will never be a lord. Which is problematic, as he is Lord of Starfall, and with his aunt to become Lady Dondarrion none remain that House Dayne can trust to rule on his behalf without risking usurpation. So, his wife will need to be Lord in all but name. She will need to be fierce, to have unrivalled inner strength, to be able read his bannermen, and to stare down grown men when they try and defy her. She will, in short, need to want to and be able to rule. Not run her husband's household. Rule. Can you think of anyone who matches that description?"

Ned turned his gaze to Arya in disbelief, it was finally sinking in that everything about her that made her so unmarriable to most highborn did, in fact, make her the perfect choice to be the Lady of the second most prestigious house in Dorne.

"Arya will rule Starfall in all but name, and ruling will give her the freedom she has always desired. Edric will gladly put down the burden that has been crushing him ever since he learned what it meant, becoming in truth no more than a knight and captain of her armies, and being eternally thankful for that. They are both exactly what the other needs. Of course, if you have better offers for Arya's hand…."

I let the question trail off. As much as the North claimed to respect the fighting women of House Mormont, few were willing to marry them. Especially as Bear Island was dirt poor. The women on the Mormont family tree ended up as unmarried spinsters, married to Bear Island smallfolk, to hedge knights, or, if they were very lucky, married to third or fourth sons of their fellow northern houses.

Arya didn't have noble poverty holding her back, but still, Ned would find making a match for her anywhere in the North a challenge. Any suit offered other than a first son of a bannermen would be an insult to House Stark, but Arya would never carry out the duties required of running a household. Which meant many Northern houses that would normally leap at the opportunity to share blood with House Stark had instead paused. Given the southern kingdoms' expectations of a lady he would also find making a match in the south an almost total impossibility, except in Dorne. And unless he wanted to try his luck with Trystane Martell, or get in the middle of the Martell/Yronwood feud, I was offering the best candidate in Dorne to him on a silver platter.

"Well done Edric!" I called out loudly, my voice carrying to him as he finally landed a blow on Syrio. "You're learning how to deal with dancers as opponents splendidly!"

Edric and Arya hugged in elation as the dancing master conceded the match before winking at me. Clearly, he had felt that they had both improved enough to deserve a win, to whet their appetite for more. Arya's apology seemed to have been successful as there had been no hesitancy when Edric chose to return her embrace.

"There's never just a single reason for anything you do is there?" Ned asked accusingly as his eyes flicked between me and the hugging Edric and Arya on the other side of the room, the two of them shouting their glee while still embracing.

"Why Ned, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." My smile was genuine, disarming, and simply made the Lord of Winterfell stare blankly.

Hopefully he was beginning to realise how out of his depth he was, or at least how much Littlefinger was leading him around by the nose. Regardless as to whether he did or not, Ned still joined me in watching Arya and Edric celebrate together. A pensive expression hiding his thoughts.

Accusing and cold he might be, the warmth and trust that had infused our early interactions a distant memory. But he was still listening to me, and still taking at least some of my ideas onboard.

However much Littlefinger had managed to tarnish my character in Ned's eyes, it seemed I wasn't out of the game yet.

As soon as the dancing lesson had ended, I headed back to my chambers. Edric had gone to practice with Loras which left me free to think, Loras was far too good at distracting me when he felt I had crossed the line from thinking into brooding.

Unfortunately, it seemed that even now I wasn't going to be able to wallow in despair in peace as Jon Snow entered, braced himself, and joined me on the balcony.

"My lord I…." he began awkwardly.

"…Am sorry for your behaviour, will be more mindful of locked doors, wish to continue squiring for Loras." I cut him off, rubbing my eyes tiredly, unable to maintain Renly's happy and charming mask.

Jon stared at his feet, ashamed and embarrassed. "I am truly sorry my lord."

I sighed deeply, looking back out at Blackwater Bay and waving a hand vaguely in his direction. "You're forgiven Jon. Don't let my exhaustion with this cesspool of a city and court drag you down too. I imagine you must have enough of your own to deal with given that Ned insisted on riding out with you before telling you about your mother. Whoever she is, it seems he's got himself into quite the scandal if he's finally willing to start playing the game properly to protect you both."

Jon's expression froze and his eyes darted around wildly. He got himself under control eventually, but it took a long time. Far too long. "My father simply wanted to talk with me without the oppressive walls of the Red Keep my lord. Wylla was my mother, as it seems everyone but me was aware."

"Good delivery, believable, but you need to work on hiding your initial expression and on your speed. Don't let your face betray you, and answer quickly before the questioner can start inferring things from your silence. Lady Ashara has suffered enough." I advised, deliberately pretending to fall for the contingency cover story and be ignorant of Jon's true origins.

Jon lost a lot of his suppressed panic at my mention of Lady Ashara. I hadn't lied, but he'd taken exactly what I wanted him to from the statement, and he no longer looked like he was going to keel over.

"You seem very tired my lord, should I fetch Ser Loras?" Jon asked, sensibly trying to change the subject. It was a very credible attempt as well. He was learning quickly.

"Loras will simply distract me by having me suck him off, and while his manhood is delightful, my problems won't go away simply because I ignore them in favour of worshiping such a prize….and you really need to deal with your issues with sex Jon."

Jon's frantic stuttering managed to form into some actual words when I addressed him. "My lord…that is…I…"

"Have a cock, and just the thought of it in someone's mouth has rendered you a stammering defenceless mess."

"I am not defenceless!" Jon defended himself. "Theon talks about it all the time! It's just the thought of you and…" Jon trailed off, blushing.

I snorted in disbelief. "I might believe that, if you actually bring yourself to say his name. As it is I'd bet even a pretty Wildling girl could lead you around by your manhood like an obedient little dog. I dread to think what an actually skilled seductress in the pay of the Queen could achieve."

Jon gaped at me like a fish. "Why….why.."

I sighed deeply and gave him a sad smile. "Why you? Because you're the son of Lord Stark Jon. And even the tiniest scraps of information you could give them by accident are worth the gold it would take to hire a mummer skilled whore to seduce you. To say nothing the lies you could unwittingly carry to your father if she whispered them in your ear."

Silence fell after I stopped speaking. So I took the opportunity to drop my head and lean hard on the balcony railing. I was so tired. Whichever way I turned there were enemies plotting my death, all of them more skilled schemers than me. Then there was the elephant in the room that I still refused to face, staring at me from every Baratheon house banner. Now, to cap it all off, I was destroying the innocence of a young man that trusted me.

"Truly? It could hurt father?" Jon asked, suddenly attentive.

"Very much so." I replied with certainty. Ygritte had wrapped Jon completely around her little finger. Only his vow to the Night's Watch and the fact that she was completely open about her intentions had allowed him to stay true to himself. By contrast Daenerys, a true player, had had him dancing completely to her tune. The damage that a truly skilled seductress like Shae could do was incalculable. Given that she had had the skill to fool even Tyrion Lannister, Jon would be utterly defenceless.

"How do I stop it being a problem?" Jon faced me, resolute despite his face being flame red with embarrassment.

"Experience." I replied, dropping my head into my hands as the guilt of destroying something precious reared up again. Truly Jon had a much better view of sex than Theon did, yet I was still trying to destroy it because it left him so vulnerable to cunts like Littlefinger and the Lannisters. God I hated Westeros.

"Go to the brothel and get experience. When you're not so overwhelmed by a maiden's body, or the pleasure she can bring you, you'll be able to focus more on what she is saying. On if she's trying to manipulate you or not. That will defend your father even more than your sword will."

"I did try my lord." Jon choked out, embarrassed. "I…."

"Was worried you'd put a bastard in her?" I cut him off, just wanting to get this conversation over with so the guilt would go away.

"How did you know?" Jon whispered.

"It's a common enough attitude among bastards, no one else understands so deeply how the life of a bastard is no life for a child." I muttered in reply.

Jon looked at me in adoration and respect for knowing his thoughts, which simply made me feel even more dirty than I already did.

I massaged my temples in exhaustion as I tried to put his fears to rest. "A whore in a proper brothel will never get pregnant unless she intends to Jon, they provide moon tea to make sure of it. But if you're still worried, just use her mouth, or her ass, or even ask for one of their boys if you still can't do it. Trust me, brothels often have boys so pretty that you'll never know that they're boys if you don't check."

Given how rare truly solid zeros were on the kinsey scale, that was worth a shot to help Jon get over his fear of fathering a bastard.

Jon flushed but nodded resolutely. "I will do my best my lord."

I closed my eyes, waiting for him to leave. It took a few moments before I accepted he wasn't going to.

"What now?" I asked wearily, still unable to summon the energy to put on Renly's charming mask.

"You changed the subject well my lord, but something is clearly bothering you. If you will not speak of it to Ser Loras I wished to see if I could help. I know it's arrogant of me, but I owed you much even before my actions towards you shamed me and gave me much to atone for."

I just stared at him for a while before deciding to just go for it. My plans meant that I needed Jon to trust me, and he would hardly do that if I didn't show that I trusted him in return. "Do you love Robb?"

"With all my heart, he's my bother." Jon answered swiftly and without hesitation.

I snorted. "That's no guarantee of anything. Robert openly told your father that he never loved his brothers, that he never loved me. At least he realised it was a terrible thing to admit, but that doesn't soften the blow. My brother doesn't love me despite everything I've done to support him. Robb loves you despite every reason he has not to."

Jon stared at me, dumfounded. He had clearly never considered that family dynamics could run the other way. That just as Robb, Arya, Bran, Rickon, and even Sansa, loved him when by all rights they shouldn't, family members sometimes didn't love those they should.

"What of Lord Stannis my lord? Surely he loves you?" Jon asked cautiously.

"Stannis." I laughed, before sobering. "The easy answer would be that he hates me. It isn't true though. Did you know he gave me some of his food rations when we were starving in the siege of Storms End? He certainly loved me then, he loved me more than his own life."

"Then he still loves you." Jon said with the conviction of someone who'd never seen life and choices tear blood families apart.

"Does he? He certainly loves the memory of the boy I was. But the reality of the man I've become..." I looked out towards the horizon that hid Dragonstone. Having glimpsed the inside of Stannis' thoughts I knew that he did love his younger brother, very deep down. But he would not acknowledge it while I was alive.

The vast difference in personalities and love languages was a difficult enough obstacle to overcome. But then there was Stannis' actions as Renly came of age. When Renly had begun to grow into the man he was, one that Stannis didn't like, the elder brother had taken the first page out of the authoritarian parent's playbook and had withdrawn his love from his little brother in an attempt to force him to conform to what Stannis felt a man and lord should be.

I was at a complete loss as to why he'd ever thought that would work on a Baratheon.

Renly had, in perfect keeping with his house, stubbornly found love in the place Stannis hated most of all rather than capitulate to his brother's demands to conform to being a man and lord of Stannis' type. The utter fury that Renly had felt that Stannis would even make the attempt had then made the younger brother take vicious pleasure in withdrawing his own love from the elder in revenge.

The wounds that the two had inflicted on each other ran deep.

I sighed deeply again before turning my attention back to Jon.

"Whether he loves me or not; Stannis certainly doesn't like me or respect me. He makes that clear every time we meet by insulting me at every possible opportunity. He's always blamed me for Robert's decision to give Storm's End to me over him, despite the fact I had nothing to do with it, and his love was replaced with scorn and bile when I responded to him withdrawing his love from me over that and other matters by finding it with a Tyrell instead. He doesn't trust me either, since there hasn't been a single word from him on whatever has resulted in him fleeing to Dragonstone and refusing all summons to return. Not one."

Jon stared at the floor as I retreated into my thoughts. He didn't know what was coming, so I couldn't tell him that there were more marks against Stannis beyond the royal children fiasco and withdrawing his love from a child over a decision they had no control over and daring to develop a vastly different personality to their care giver. Both of which were damning enough on their own.

With Jon Arryn gone, facing down Robert with both his brothers and Ned in a unified front was likely the only way to get the king to accept the horrible conclusions of that investigation. But after Jon Arryn's death, even after Ned's arrival in Kings Landing, Stannis still refused to say a word. Not to Ned Stark, and not to his own brother. Hiding on his island as – as far as he knew – the Lannisters picked off anyone who could convince Robert one by one. Even if Renly hadn't been entirely reliable, even if Stannis had thought it hopeless and that the Lannisters would kill them before they even got close to telling Robert, Stannis hadn't even thought Renly worth warning to flee beyond Cersei's reach as he had done himself.

Whether Renly would have believed it or not didn't matter. Stannis hadn't loved his little brother enough to even try to warn him of the danger that the Lord of Dragonstone was so certain would be fatal that he had fled the capital to save his own skin.

But this went beyond Stannis' inaction towards the only two people who could help him convince Robert. As well as not respecting, liking, or trusting Renly, or warning him, when things eventually did go to hell Stannis made no attempt to check if his brother had made it out of Kings Landing, if he was being held hostage, or if he'd been killed. So, as well as not liking, respecting, or trusting Renly, Stannis didn't care about his brother's well-being either. It would be one thing if Stannis had tried and failed to find out what happened to his brother, but he simply hadn't cared enough to even try.

Yet even after leaving him to his fate with no warning of the oncoming storm, and no attempt to find out what happened to him once it broke over the city, Stannis still expected the little brother he'd betrayed to bend the knee without hesitation.

Renly had clearly found it galling, but he'd also come to expect such treatment. Which was the only reason I could think of as to why he hadn't called Stannis out on it when his elder brother demanded he bend the knee out of familial loyalty at their parley.

As someone who had three brothers, none of which would have rested until they'd at least delivered me a warning – and more likely dragged me from the capital kicking and screaming whether I believed it or not – there were no words that could adequately express my hatred for the betrayal.

Then just to twist the knife, even after it was known that Renly had escaped Kings Landing Stannis made no attempt to contact the very person whose loyalty he should have secured first in his fight for the Iron Throne. Leaving his brother to find out about the charges against Joffrey and the others along with everyone else. Stannis took Renly's loyalty for granted while doing absolutely nothing to secure it, believing that the fact he was technically owed it was enough. Believing that Renly would still come running – unasked – despite suffering through the withdrawal of Stannis' love for his little brother for daring to be different to him, followed by the replacement of that love with a lifetime of dismissals, putdowns, insults, resentment, and mockery. And all of that before being left to face the lions' 'mercy' alone when the Lannisters seized power without so much of a warning or a query as to his fate once the initial bloodletting was over.

The betrayal, the dismissal, the whole way Stannis had interacted with Renly as adults, it all told me that Stannis did not value Renly, or the skills he brought to the table. Seeing him as a useless fop who's only use would be to call the Stormlands banners, transfer them to Stannis, and then stay out of the way. Which was an appalling oversight as the skills that everyone else recognised that Renly had were the very skills everyone, including Stannis himself, knew that the Lord of Dragonstone lacked.

I was unsurprised that Renly decided to go for the throne himself in the face of such actions. It was also entirely amusing to me that it was only once he did that Stannis finally realised that Renly's skills of charming the highborn and securing the love of the smallfolk were valuable. Especially as the legitimacy of the crown had been shattered with the triumph of Robert's rebellion. Won by conquest against the rightful heir less than twenty years before, something more than just relying on the law was required for the ascension of the next Baratheon king to go smoothly.

That something was Renly's diplomatic skill. When over half the realm rose up in rebellion against Joffrey, virtually every rebelling Reach, Stormlands, and Crownlands lord picked Renly over Stannis. Including Stannis' own in-laws, who saw Renly as the better bet to successfully take the throne even when supporting Stannis would make Lord Florent's niece queen. And all this despite the massive cultural taboo of supporting a younger son over an elder.

There really wasn't a way for the Lord of Dragonstone to deny Renly's skills were needed after that.

But still Stannis made no attempt to rectify the situation. No attempt to negotiate and see if there was a peaceful way to get Renly to put down his crown.

That was especially damning to any who thought Stannis a good man as, unlike the rest of Westeros, the Iron Throne inheritance law placed a king's brothers before his daughters in the line of succession. With Shireen his only living child and Lady Selyse virtually certain to be unable to have more, when Stannis declared himself king Renly became his legitimate heir. One who was virtually certain to follow Stannis on the Iron throne unless the elder brother disposed of Selyse and remarried. But he didn't even try to make that the basis of a settlement that would allow Renly to walk his decision back – openly saying he would continue in his efforts to sire a male heir of his own before commanding Renly to submit or die.

Stannis didn't want to find a way out for Renly that let him save face. That let his brother back down from usurping Stannis' rights in return for Stannis finally recognising that Renly was his own person, with his own personality, talents, uses, and love. A person that did not deserve to be constantly dismissed, belittled, putdown, and have his own rights as Crown Prince completely disregarded.

Stannis wanted his brother crushed, powerless, subservient, and humiliated. Or dead. All over the fact that Renly had dared to develop a different personality to his elder brother, had benefited from a decision Robert, not Renly, had made, and how Stannis' reaction to both had driven Renly right into the arms of Loras Tyrell as the only person left willing to show Renly genuine love.

I refocused on Jon as I firmly stamped down on the indignant anger, hurt, and bitter regret thinking of Stannis caused. "There are other things Jon, things that I will not share. But in short I know that as well as not liking, respecting, or trusting me, Stannis doesn't care for me or value my skills either. Now tell me, what chance does love have with that knowledge poisoning the bond between us?"

"Do you know this for certain?" Jon asked seriously.

I nodded. "It is clear from my brother's actions."

Anger seemed to fill Jon as he reversed his previous declaration. "Robb likes, respects, trusts, cares for, and values me. That's what love is. It doesn't have to be all of them, it doesn't even have to be many of them, I'm sure Sansa doesn't like me, but she respects and cares for me. If your brother doesn't feel any of those things for you, then he doesn't love you no matter what he declares, and he doesn't deserve to be your brother."

The words Jon spat vehemently touched memories. Of parents weeping at their addicted children that they'd had to cut off all contact with because they had stolen from and attacked family to get their fixes. And of parents weeping over the memory of their perfect little children, cursing them for growing up to be queer and 'forcing' them to throw them out and disown them.

Despite them both cutting their children off only one of those two still truly loved their children. Only one of those two would ever entertain the thought of killing them. It was a timely reminder on how love could be as strong as steel or as weak as spun sugar.

I smiled a little as some of the guilt for standing against Stannis disappeared. He had made his own bed, and now he had to lay in it. Besides, what was his love truly worth? Only three people had ever truly loved him and been loved by him in return. Maester Cressen, Ser Davos Seaworth, and Shireen Baratheon. And perhaps the memory of the young Renly too. He'd betrayed them all, one by one, in his relentless pursuit of the Iron Throne. What use was the love of Stannis if he would still murder you or burn you alive if it helped him claim the throne?

And yes, it was a little hypocritical of me to say that given that I was going to throw him under the proverbial bus to claim that same throne. But I would run away to the life of a peasant in Essos before deliberately harming Loras in the attempt. Let alone any child I may one day have.

"Thank you, Jon." I said, a little of my energy returning to me. "Robert found your father, let us hope I can find someone actually worthy of being my brother too. You're right, I have wasted too much energy on someone who doesn't deserve it."

Jon smiled. "I am glad I could help my lord. Would you care to join me in the practice yard? It might help you work off some of your frustrations at the court."

I took is forearm in a strong grip.

"I'd be glad too."

I refused to glance back in the direction of Dragonstone as Jon and I left my solar. I had made my decision. Stannis Baratheon had his poisoned his relationship with Renly long ago and entirely of his own volition. If it was even fixable by this point, which I severely doubted, I simply did not have the time left to try. If Stannis would even let me make the attempt, which was far from certain given that as an adult Renly had poured his own poison into their relationship due to his anger at Stannis' actions. In the end, all of that led me to the same conclusion that the original Renly had reached.

Stannis Baratheon was not my brother; he was simply an obstacle in my way.

And I could live with that.