Stannis

Ours is the fury, the words of the Baratheons had never proven to be as true as they were today. Stannis ground his teeth as he stomped through the halls of Maegor's Holdfast, heading towards his solar with clenched fists and dark eyes. Servants and guards alike jumped out of the way as he strode through the halls, his sworn swords following behind him. He wasn't prone to violent outbursts, no, that was Robert whenever he was drunk or sober and didn't get his way, like a spoiled child. No, Stannis' fury was silent and contained, but it still raged within him like a storm. He barged into his solar, where Blake was already waiting for his arrival. She quickly stood from her seat, one of the few that decorated his plain solar.

"Father!" Blake bowed her head respectfully. Her eyes seemed worried, yet the rest of her face was impassive. "How did your meeting with Uncle Robert go?"

That simple question nearly made him grind his teeth even more, yet Stannis refrained from doing so in the presence of his eldest daughter, even if it did take much of his self-control. She always scolded him whenever she caught him doing so. She was one to talk, given her fondness for beating up sparing dummies whenever she was irked, both animate and inanimate.

"Robert denied me." Stannis said darkly, moving to the plain chair behind his desk and slumped into it. He looked at his desk, crowded with letters and maps, all well organized, and resisted the urge to scatter them."He laughed in my face and denied me as Hand."

Blake frowned at the news. She knew what this meant, without the title of Hand of the King, there was little Stannis could do to stop the Lannisters from placing that abomination on the Iron Throne once Robert passed. Worse, it meant he was bereft of an ally, one of his few in this snakepit.

"Who does he mean to name?" Blake gently reached for his hand. He allowed it, despite the awkwardness that he felt whenever one of his daughters embraced him. It grounded him, gave him something positive to focus on.

"The brother he wishes was related by blood, Lord Eddard Stark." Stannis answered dryly. Robert always loved the Lord of Winterfell more than his own blood. Whenever he visited Storm's End when Lord Arryn was fostering him before the Rebellion, Robert spent his days sharing stories of his exploits with the infamous Eddard Stark. Stannis held no love for the man, and with little surprise. "He means to travel north, to Winterfell to name him personally."

What did Lord Stark know of ruling the Seven Kingdoms? The duty that Stannis had been performing alongside the Late Lord Jon Arryn ever since Robert took the throne. Renly preferred the company of young men, feasting and competing in tourneys instead of doing his duties as Master-of-Laws. That wasn't even mentioning the Spider, a holdover from Aery's reign and likely the cause of much of the corruption, such as Littlefinger, who was likely draining the treasury alongside Robert's expensive tourneys and feasts. Stannis' only allies on the Small Council were Lord Arryn, and Ser Barristan Selmy, yet neither had any sort of love for him, and neither did he to them. Ser Selmy's service to the Mad King, honorable, or not, had left a mark on his record. And Lord Arryn, well, given he had helped raise Robert, that said all that need be said.

"Perhaps we could win over Lord Stark to our cause? He is said to be the most honorable man in all Seven Kingdoms." Blake suggested, her voice hopeful. He hated to crush her hopes, but he had no choice in the matter. Better to warn her before the whispers started.

"The most honorable man in all Seven Kingdoms, yet he fathered a bastard and brought him into his household, staining the vows he gave his lady wife." Stannis grumbled. He still remembered Robert congratulating Stark upon his return from Dorne, while commanding Stannis to build him a fleet while still recovering from the Siege of Storm's End. Did Robert thank him then? Never. "Lord Stark is no friend of mine; he won't believe my words, and even if he did, he'll want to tell Robert without any plans."

It had taken much planning and preparation, as well as gathering enough evidence, just to convince Jon Arryn, and Stannis had worked closely with him for years. No, Eddard Stark would no doubt call him a liar and traitor, one that was seeking to steal the Iron Throne from those abominations. He was well aware of how it looked, trying to usurp his niece and nephews, but it was hardly his fault they were abominations. He hadn't asked for this, but he would do his duty all the same.

"What are we to do then?" Blake sighed. She was passionate when a topic interested her, Stannis and Malora had raised her well. His eldest daughter was a firm believer in upholding the law and justice. She had dove into Dragonstone's libraries, especially the histories, once she had grown up.

"We will return to Dragonstone, with the rest of the Royal Fleet, once Robert departs for Winterfell." Stannis would have to make those preparations soon. Orders to be drafted, words to be whispered to the captains, supplies to be arranged, it was a daunting task. He would claim that he was preparing for another campaign in the Stepstones, not that the other councilmembers would care. "With the Lords of the Vale returning home with that Mad Woman, our allies at court have dwindled." The Riverlords, Westerlords, Stormlords and Reachmen that remained could not be trusted. None of them had the same stature or respect as Lord Arryn, or even knew he was an ally of theirs, so they would assume the worst of him.

"We're abandoning Uncle Robert?" Blake's voice was hard and cold, like his own. It was the Baratheon blood that flowed through her veins. She wasn't prone to open displays of rage, but instead, it would linger until the appropriate time. He was so proud of her.

"We are regrouping. If the Lannisters were able to poison the Lord Hand, then what of us? We cannot help Robert if we're dead." Stannis needed to gather his banners, and even then they would still be outnumbered. Ser Davos and his sons would have to be sent to Essos, to gather sellsails and sellswords to augment his forces.

"We cannot let him go to Winterfell alone." Blake pressed onward. Unrelenting, seeking to do what was right and proper. He couldn't be more proud of her, at this moment. Yet, this wasn't the right time.

"Robert will have his guards provided by Renly, and no one in the North would dare harm his Fat Grace, not even the Lannisters." As much as Stannis disliked Lord Stark and his fellow Northerners, they were nothing if not loyal to Robert. Or at least, to Lord Stark, who was loyal to Robert. No, Robert was likely in safe hands up in the North, even if he was surrounded by Lannisters.

Blake's frown deepened in response to that statement. "I should go with him, to ensure his safety."

"Robert is no babe to fret over, he doesn't need a nursemaid." More to the point, unless someone dropped poison into his wine, the first fool to try attacking him would regret it. Robert was many things, but underneath all that fat was still the man who had been the first to storm the Gulltown walls.

"Still, withdrawing from the Royal Court will leave us blind and deaf. I will go with Uncle Robert." Blake said firmly, earning herself a sharp glare from Stannis. This was not the time for her to mess about.

"You will return to Dragonstone with the Royal Fleet, I forbid you from going North." Stannis ordered, resisting the urge to grind his teeth once more.

"Uncle Robert needs our help." Blake continued, her amber eyes as hard as his own. She truly was his daughter, and Malora's. "I'll head North, with or without your permission, Father."

That Baratheon stubborness, she likely inherited that from him, or perhaps a hint of madness from the Targaryen blood that flowed through their veins from Princess Rhaelle, Stannis' Grandmother. She had passed shortly after the end of Robert's Rebellion, after Blake had been born, but she had been able to at least know she was a great-grandmother.

"You're as stubborn as an ox." And strong too, Blake could easily match that Lannister girl when it came to skill at arms. She would likely be safe, but he still worried about her. Stannis hardened his eyes. "No."

"Father, we both know that I can leave King's Landing without a single soul spotting me, by land or sea." Blake threatened, her hand still touching the top of Stannis' own. This was a contest of wills, who would triumph? Him or her?

The two glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. She would go to Winterfell, with or without his leave? Fine, he would allow it, he was a wise enough tactician to realize that sometimes, a lost battle meant a won war. However, her jaunt up Northwould be under certain conditions.

"You may go." Stannis said, not blinking nor breaking eye contact. "But you will take a half-dozen of my knights, and two score more of my men-at-arms. Ser Richard Horpe and Ser Godry Farring shall be in command."

Ser Richard was a killer through and through, but he was still loyal. He had wished for a white cloak, yet the Queen Whore denied him that right despite his skill and named another, one of her Lannister cronies. Ser Godry was younger and less experienced, but had proven himself in the Stepstones, revealing a mutinous plot aboard a galley that had planned to turn traitor. Both were loyal and skilled men, ones he could entrust his daughter to.

"Wouldn't that arouse too much suspicion?" Blake softened her gaze in response to him giving ground.

"You are my daughter and heir, the future Lady of Dragonstone, and niece to the King himself." Stannis laid his left hand on top of her own. "And should Robert not have a trueborn son soon…"

Blake's eyes widened slowly as Stannis clenched his jaw at the image. Of his daughter sitting atop the Iron Throne, should Malora not give him a son, holding court.

"You shall be the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Weiss

Travel through the Riverlands was more boring than Weiss had expected, though she did enjoy the views of the Trident. In the villages they had passed through, men, women, and children had bathed in it, even a few of Weiss' servants joined in whenever they stopped to resupply and allow their horses to rest. Weiss didn't join in, of course, even when she had privacy and the men went to sleep. For all she knew, a village or town upstream threw all their excrement or other trash into the flowing waters. The mere thought disgusted her on so many levels.

Weiss Schnee would never bathe in shit, even if she was a Lannister now.

"How much longer until we reach Riverrun?" Weiss asked, having finally changed into riding trousers after three days of stuffy dresses. The Summer heat was nearly unbearable, especially since she was used to Atlasian temperatures, and she wasn't stupid enough to cool herself in the Trident. A small keep was starting to grow in the distance.

"In two days or less at this rate, M'Lady." Coachman Figgins answered in a rather tired tone. Evidently she wasn't the only one to ask that question. She rode directly beside her wheelhouse, enjoying the occasional wind that blew into her ponytail. Cedric and Pod were riding opposite to her, with the rest of her wagons and mounted men-at-arms guarding her treasure and luggage just behind her.

"Hm, very well." Weiss' eyes drifted towards the sky, where the sun was already starting to set. While it was a lovely sight, she would rather see it through the window of the keep she was drawing close to."We should make camp soon, before the sun is finished setting."

Hopefully they would be able to encamp outside of that keep's walls. In the worst case scenario, they would have to travel a little longer if they were rejected, and in the best scenario, Weiss and a few of her guards would be allowed in as guests just for the night.

It took another hour for them to draw even nearer to the keep, finally allowing Weiss a better view of the structure. She urged her horse, Chestnut, onward, with Cedric following her motion with the Lannister banner clutched in his hand. The keep was small, with broken stone walls that had been carelessly repaired with wood. It looked as if it hadn't been well maintained in years, if not longer. Still, it would be an improvement over camping out, if only just.

"Is this keep even inhabited?" Weiss briefly turned to Cedric as the two rode ahead of their convoy. Her faithful knight gave her a crude shrug in response. What was she expecting from him? Intelligence?

She was about to yell to see if anyone was there, when a man's head appeared in between damaged battlements. He wore a steel-pot helmet with a thick mustache with curls on the end. Finally, some signs of life. At this rate, she'd take even bandits. At least them, she could kill and then take over the keep. Would Lord Hoster Tully or even King Robert award her for such a public service?

"Who goes there?" The man asked, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. What, did he think they were bandits or something? Was the lion banner that hard to recognize?

Cedric remained silent, yawning softly as he held the banner of Weiss' house. He snapped to attention when Weiss coughed into a fist, and gave her stupid knight a subtle glare. The Payne Knight finally started to speak. "Presenting, my Lady, Weiss of House Lannister-"

"Go away."

What a warm reception.

A/N

Night and I were disappointed that not that many people noticed a reveal that was casually made in the last chapter. Perhaps it was a little too casual as an off-the-hand remark.

And we have a new piece of art I commissioned from ARJART! It's one of my favorite pieces so far!

I will update the story cover to it so people on FFN can see.