CHP 54: Tea Party (Patreon)

Stannis furrowed his thick brow, a hand on the round table set up in the centre of the hall. He had ordered his bannermen to leave, and they had complied without question.

All save for one.

A slight man that stood a few steps behind Stannis himself. Much like his King, he too wore a simple blue tunic, leather breeches and old boots that did not befit any lord. His skin was wrinkled and chafed from weather, and his thinning brown hair and short beard was flecked grey by time.

He didn't meet my gaze, and seemed content to maintain a healthy distance. Though I could note a hand slowly reaching for a dirk tied to his belt.

"That's unwise," I called him out with a thin smile. "If I wanted to do what you think, I wouldn't have bothered coming all the way here to see your face."

He looked up and let out a small sigh. "Apologies, lord. The fault lies with me."

"So long as you get it."

I shrugged and turned my gaze back to the still silent Stannis.

"What is it you want?" The King asked bluntly.

He gave no more respect but I hadn't asked for it in the first place.

"She tells me you're with her god," Stannis continued. He made no attempt at hiding just how little he believed in Melisandre and her so-called 'God'. "I have no more to give you."

"My King, perhaps you shou-"

"Quiet, woman." He silenced Melisandre without even sparing her a glance. "The truth now. What is it you want? I do not enjoy repeating myself."

Despite what many would have perceived as blatant disrespect, my smile only widened at the way he confronted me. A King needed an ego, first and foremost. Yet, he made no threats and promised no reward either.

"I'm sure you've heard of what happened to the Lannisters, yes?" I prodded curiously as I looked around the Round Hall. It was a rather dreary place, if I did say so myself. The dull grey stone did no favour for whatever little charm it held, and rain pattered against the stone outside.

Outside the window, was a sheer drop into strong waves from the bay that crashed against jagged dark rocks.

Stannis nodded. "A Devil. Or some Old God. If the sorceress is to be believed, some blessing from her god. You'll find I have little patience for such claims. But I will not deny you your works. You destroyed my enemy, for that I will have you rewarded. You have done the realm a great service."

So he was someone willing to accept facts and not let his ego get in the way of what was right? That was unexpected, but it wasn't unwelcome.

"But you have not yet bowed your head to a King." He said suddenly, and Melisandre stared at him with wide eyes for it. "Why?"

His words made me pause for a long second, and his little sorceress paled like she'd seen some kind of wraith. "I like your spirit, child. You are King. I will not deny you your right either."

But I did not bow my head.

The stone quaked and crimson lightning raced across black clouds. My eyes swirled with the right I had earned through millennia of war and violence. "But no King of Men has the right to force me to lower my head an inch."

I was not angry. Of course, I wasn't. He wasn't the first person to say something like this and he most certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Gods have tried."

But I had learned that these sorts of misunderstandings needed to be cleared up lest children get big heads and harm others in their ill-founded hubris.

"Gods have failed."

For his part, Stannis stood tall even when Melisandre fell to her knees. He refused to relent even when the very stone beneath him trembled. Davos quickly approached him and put a gloved hand on the King's shoulder.

"Your Grace, I... I fear those baseless rumours may be true. I may not know much but that's no man."

"What is it you want?" Stannis asked again.

Suddenly, the commotion died down and all returned to peace as if nothing had transpired.

"Why do you want to be King?" I asked with a calm smile.

"Because it is my duty." The King answered. He put a finger against the map, on King's Landing, as if to show that he was completely unaffected... Unfortunately for him, I could hear his drumming heart. "The Iron Throne is mine by right. I will not have my people bend their knees to bastards and tyrants. The realm is not theirs to toy with as they please. They will answer for their crimes."

"A King needs to know mercy though?" I quipped.

"Mercy is not for the cruel and the unjust. Those Lords, those of them that sided with Renly knowing he was a usurper. I showed them mercy when they bowed their heads and accepted their wrong. For traitors who see no wrong in their acts, I possess none. Whomsoever they may be."

He wasn't trying to deceive me or saying things for the sake of it. I could see it in his eyes, on the muscles twitching beneath his rough skin, and the heart beating against his chest.

It made me realise something.

Stannis Baratheon and Robb Stark were nothing alike.

Where Robb took his time, bordering on indecisiveness, Stannis made a decision from the truth of the matter, grounded in reality and fairness, and stood by it. But perhaps that was just because of the difference in their age and the wisdom that came with it.

It was a nice thing to see in a human king as young as Stannis.

More winded than I'd thought, Stannis continued speaking, as if he was dissatisfied with his own words. He didn't like me calling him out much.

"No, it is not about my right. I did not ask for the crown. It is heavy on the head. And it glistens far too much for my taste. But it is my duty to wear it justly. For the realm, for my brother, for those who serve me. I would sooner slit my throat than to bend to a traitor that murdered Robert. Cersei will die. Along with her abominations should they think to stop me. Be sure of it."

"Your Grace..." Davos murmured. He lowered his gaze and took a step back.

I couldn't help but smile as Stannis spoke more and more. For himself more than anything, I was sure. I held up a hand to stop him and his gaze hardened. 

"What?"

"You're the King." I nodded. "I reckon that kind of fairness will do the people good."

If I was wrong, which I was sure I wasn't, I could always take his head.

If he wanted to be fair to his people, regardless of their stations, that was all I wanted. I would help him, I decided. Because there was no better alternative present from what I'd seen.

Reaching into my pocket, I retrieved Robb's sealed letter and opened it as they watched. The message it held was short, and to the point.

"You might want to call those Lords back in for this."

Stannis gave a small nod to Melisandre and the red woman floated away. Before long, the Storm Lords slowly funnelled back into the hall, one by one. Once they'd all gotten comfortable, I revealed the contents of the letter.

"The North, under Robb Stark. The Riverlands, under Edmure Tully. The Vale, under Yohn Royce. All find that Stannis' claim to the Iron Throne is just."

Ooh, it felt quite nice to make these sorts of declarations.

Murmurs and whispers disrupted the grim quiet of the great hall. Mostly about disbelief regarding the incredibly fortunate turn of events.

I looked at Stannis, and saw that he didn't smile. However, his shoulders relaxed so he took the news well it seemed.

"They will stand with House Baratheon as their forebears did. Provided the crown delivers justice against House Lannister for its grave transgression."

It was a little too fancy for me, but it was quite the dramatic declaration so all was well.

Stannis scrutinised me for falsehood and fabrication for several moments, then nodded. "Those terms are agreeable."

I wondered how the folks at King's Landing would feel about this information seeing as they were sandwiched between enemies. Still though, with the Reach joining them, they could hold for an incredibly long time with little trouble.

Unless... the Reach betrayed them.

They'd changed allegiances twice before, what was to say they wouldn't do it again?

It would be the sensible thing to do and allow them to garner favour with little effort on their own part.

Once the lords raised their voices and began to discuss their politics, I turned to leave. "Now then, I have a tea party with a princess to get to and that's arguably way more important than your politicking. Bye now."

Some of them tried to request I stop but their words fell on deaf ears as I quickly made my way out of the Great Hall.

Finding Shireen wasn't too hard a task, despite the size of Storm's End. All I had to do was bother some random soldier until he pointed me to a steward. At that point, I bothered him until he led me to the Baratheon princess.

Her living quarters were... not quite what I had in mind for a princess.

She lived in a small room, with a simple bed under a window to the side, and a little hearth burning bright to its right. Shireen sat on a leather rug, playing with a straw doll. She jumped as soon as she saw me and started fussing over her plain blue dress.

"You came?" The small Baratheon asked shyly.

"I promised. Didn't I?" I sat down on a small chair beside the door. "So then, are you going to give me tea? Princess?"

"Mhm. Mhm." She bolted out the door.

As I waited, my gaze wandered to the small shelf sitting opposite the bed. There were a few thin books gathering dust on it. I had been reading a lot of them lately and noted a few things.

A good number of the pertaining to biology and chemistry were plain wrong when it came to the basics. It wasn't because of the nature of their society either, no. That became evident when I noticed some of the more complicated ones involved usage of those very concepts.

Then there was the fact that most, if not all, of these books came from Maesters and by extension, the Citadel in Oldtown.

Those same books also decried magic, even when it factually existed in this world and was still in use on the other main continent, Essos. Magic wasn't vile or evil, it was a tool like any other.

Critical junctures in the history of the Seven Kingdoms also seemed as though they had been influenced by some unknown force.

The conclusion I arrived at after what I'd read and seen with my own two eyes, quite long ago actually, was that something was forcing this continent to stagnate as some sort of power grab.

In light of more recent discoveries, I suspected that it was this Citadel and the Order of Maesters that made it home.

Especially since there was one in every single castle on the whole continent.

Knowledge was, after all, quite the powerful tool in the long term.

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