Better Enjoy This While I Can (ASOIAF) - by Flightless Man

Synopsis: A Stannis SI, that embraces having a fully functional body and ignores anything but having a good time and making sure Shireen smiles lots before he dies.

Rated: T

Words: 31k

Link: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/better-enjoy-this-while-i-can-asoiaf-stannis-si-lighthearted-comedy.996611/reader/

Valmar Remarks: This story is probably one of the most lighthearted approaches I've seen to a GOT/ASOIAF fic I've read. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's relatively short but enjoyable enough. It might be refreshing for those who are used to reading grimdark or OP power fantasy wish-fullfilment in this setting. The SI in this is strictly a normal guy with no powers, no magic and no wikipedia-level knowledge of ancient societies.

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Chapter 1:

When my eyes flicker open like I've trained myself to years ago, I carefully slide out of bed without disturbing my fiancé. The cold stone floor shocks me into a clearer head and I flail awkwardly for where the light switch should be on the wall.

It's so early that the sun hasn't even started to rise yet and for the first time in years, I'm not in excruciating pain the moment I'm awake. The pain must still just be asleep, better get to the bathroom before it catches up to me.

Deftly avoiding the desk with the wobbly lamp, I instead bang my knee hard against a dresser I wasn't ready for. She must have been rearranged after I passed out last night... again.

The noise doesn't wake her up, but my hissed cursing gets her to mumble at me with a rather strange tone to her voice. She sounds kind of stuffed up, hope we aren't going to get sick.

"Don't worry darling." My reassuring words get my fiancé to lay back down without only one more tired grunt. "I'm just going to do my usual business. no need for you to get up."

Finally giving up on finding the light in my grogginess, I shuffle carefully towards the crack of orange light peeking in from the gap between the door and floor. The linoleum looks so dirty it's almost a reddish brown. Going to need to do some cleaning after breakfast.

I freeze the moment my hand grabs an iron ring instead of the cheap brass doorknob on my bedroom. Did we spend the night at the party? My eyes squint and try to get any definition from the room I'm in. Because this definitely isn't my room.

Instead of staying in the dark on my situation, I muster up enough energy to pull on the surprisingly heavy door. Light pours into the room immediately and draws another groan from the bed so I slip out and use my body to block as much of the light as I can.

When I get the door closed again and turn to glare at the lamp, I'm shocked to find a torch. The stone wall isn't quite the right colour for a brick wall and I don't see any mortar between these massive blocks.

"Stannis?" An older man's voice cuts through my confusion and I glance over my shoulder to find a broad shouldered man giving me a strange look. His mouth is slightly ajar and I blink at how many teeth he's missing.

"Is something wrong?" The tone is cordial but lacks the warmth of true friendship. Did he say Stannis?

"I'm not sure," I admit after a few more seconds of examining the blue eyed man returning his own stare with the sharpness of a falcon. "I thought I needed to do some business, but I think it can wait for morning."

The man who still has some blonde hair mixed in with his silvery white strands gives me a relieved look ad nods. "That's good news, I only finished with the last of Robert's tasks and was dreading another sleepless night going over things with you."

As we talk in the castle corridor, memories begin to mix with my own. Lord Jon Arryn isn't wrong to call me Stannis and I can't blame him for the tense look. The two of us are planning to reveal Cersei's betrayal to Robert once we have secured the last of the evidence.

Even though I realize how dangerous things have suddenly become for me, I just can't find it in me to care. Stannis may have a stick up his ass, but at least he has a body not riddled with illness and injury.

I can even deal with being nearly bald if I can finally eat cheese again. I never expected to live a long life, so I'm just going to consider every day I get as if it was an extended last meal.

"We can talk later." Waving him off with an overwhelmed look of my own, the Lord of the Vale marches of for his tower before anyone else can try and get him to do more work. "Don't want you to keel over on me."

As soon as he's around the corner, my mind starts to race through Stannis' memories of the Red Keep's layout. He rarely goes to them, but he's well aware of where the kitchens are located.

With a growing smirk, I stride towards the rooms that should be getting ready for breakfast. The few servants I pass only get as far as a slight widening of their eyes before they force them to the floor. It's only when I pass an expertly polished set of armour and see my reflection, that I finally realize what all the looks are about.

Stannis probably doesn't walk the castle in his bed clothes very often. I nearly giggle at that idea and that sends a pair of maids scurrying away before I notice them.

Relishing the fact that I'm over six feet tall, decently muscled, and have working bowels, I decide not to waste the time to change and continue my predawn stroll. I can smell bread baking, I'm getting close!

"Prince Stannis!" A gasp comes from the head cook when I'm spotted watching from the door. "What can I do for you?"

"Some of that bread when it's cooled to start with." My words just make the pudgy redhead blink a few times in confusion. "Cheese and slices of meat would be nice, but don't prepare anything fresh for me. I'm fine with what the gold cloaks eat."

I end up adding at least one of every fruit and vegetable I can see on display in the kitchen and soon have a heaping pile of food. While my mouth waters, I ignore the mixed looks of disgust and amazement on the servants faces.

I manage to get all the food on a single silver tray but don't have any hands left for my three different kinds of fruit juice. Trying to eat in the kitchens is a failure, none of the servants can work properly while they think I'm judging their performance.

After my third attempt to get them to ignore my presence, I decide it's better if I shuffle off to my solar with my prize now claimed. I need a pair of the girls to bring my refreshments, but I do make sure to leave a tip for each of the kitchen staff before we leave.

That just brings me more confused glances and I awkwardly head back towards my families chambers with the maidens who are starting to worry I might decide to try some of my brother's other vices. To assuage that fear, I send them off the moment they set the pitchers down on my sturdy but unadorned desk.

"Tell the kitchens that I have a silver for each person working that day, if I'm brought a sample of any new dish." I prove the claim by pulling a pouch from my desk and counting out one for each person who helped get me fed.

After they scamper back to the kitchens, I start to try all the foods that used to make me physically ill. Tomatoes don't make my mouth bleed and the lobster doesn't give me puffy, tear filled eyes. When I finish the four different kinds of cheese on the platter, my stomach doesn't contort in pain like it has since I was ten.

Deciding the world's going to see a very different Stannis Baratheon for the few years before everything falls apart, I reach back into my desk for some fresh parchment. When I start to write in English, my eyes immediately recognize it as the common tongue of Westeros.

Well that's not going to do, can't have Varys taking credit for 'my' work. With the French I learned well enough in school to get B for all nine years, I use two whole candles before the sun is high enough to provide light.

I manage to get down nearly the entire Queen catalogue before my platter is empty and I hear a knock at my door. "Come in." My words are muffled as I wipe my face, forcing me to repeat myself before the door pushes inwards with a creak.

"Father?" The voice of Shireen slips into my ears and the desire to give this girl the best, is something Stanns and I can both agree on. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm feeling better than I ever have my sweet." Wasting no time, I spring to my feet and pull the startled girl into a tight hug. "Is their anything you've always wanted but have been to afraid to ask me for?"

She hesitates and I try hard to avoid glancing at her scaly cheek. "You wouldn't approve."

The world is only going to hurt this girl and she's one of the few spots of true undiluted goodness in the entire series as far as I'm concerned. I'm going to need to send a letter to Lord Tarth and see about getting Brienne's services secured. Even if I die, she'll keep Shireen safe with Davos.

Davos... He's going to need a proper reward and some real time off to spend with his family. "I woke up and realized just how lucky I really am." She frowns at the words, making me poke her right on the nose and beep. "You're amazing and so is you're mother." If I'm stuck with Selyse now, I may as well try making it more than bearable.

"I have and incredible right hand in Davos and my brother told the world I was his heir when he gave me Dragonstone." Maybe I can even avoid gruesome death if I play my cards right.

The death Robert is driving himself to all on his own is my new goal. My pondering end when Shireen finally musters up the courage to admit her request.

"I want to go to a tourney." Her voice is soft and hesitant, fully expecting me to squash the idea without a second thought.

"Wouldn't it be better," She doesn't even let me finish be her face drops in prepared disappointment. "If we threw one ourselves?"

That has her gasp in disbelief and look up with shimmering eyes. "Really?" Her doubt just makes me grin and nod firmly. "But you said it was a waste of money." She frowns as another concern rises. "And Dragonstone isn't large enough to have a proper one."

"Well..." My playful smile has her excited. "Robert gave me Dragonstone when I was his heir, but that's not my position anymore." Renly won't give up Storm's End, but I don't have Stannis' attachment for it either. "I'll need to speak with my brother and his wife first, but I think we can arrange to have a tourney by your next nameday."