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Chapter 17: CH 17 No going back now

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay, my schedule was completely changed this month, but that's settled, the next chapter will hopefully not take as long. So here's an extra long chapter to compensate!

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 No going back now

Jon Targaryen

The riders they'd been expecting had finally arrived. Horses galloped into the courtyard of Winterfell. Lords Manderly and Reed had finally arrived.

The Winterfell guards led by Jory Cassel were out in force, an honor guard around Jon, Uncle and Robb who stood waiting for the arriving Lords to dismount. Uncle stood at the forefront with Jon a step behind and to the right while Robb stood on the other side. Maester Luwin and the Cassels stood around them forming a semi circle around them.

The horses were settling now, men were dismounting and Reed and Manderly banners were held high proudly proclaiming their identity, not that Jon need them to recognize the sight of the overly large Merman, Lord Wyman Manderly, the master of White Harbor. Or the small and lithe Crannogman, Howland Reed, Lord of Greywater Watch. Jon didn't see Wyman's sons here, but he saw a younger Meera. She had a pinched expression on her face as she gazed about Winterfell. There was a young boy with her that could only have been Jojen. Unlike his sister, he was looking around almost in a daze. It appeared to be a happy daze as there was a placid smile on his face, it was marred only by the healing black eye he seemed to have acquired from somewhere.

The Lords approached and Uncle stepped forward, "Welcome to Winterfell," he said formally, in a grave tone.

Lord Manderly stepped forward, a wide smile coming to his face, "Lord Stark, I am overjoyed to see you here, alive and well." He turned to Robb and nodded, "Lord Robb...to see you both here is more than I imagined possible." You could hear the joy and emotion in his voice. He turned to Jon and stepped up to him. "My sons are alive," he said, there were tears in his eyes now. The big man went down to one knee, "White Harbor is yours to command, your Grace."

Howland joined him in kneeling, a happy smile on his face, "As is Greywater Watch."

Jon smiled at them and nodded, "I thank you my lords, you are both most welcome here in Winterfell." He looked to his Uncle and Robb and both wore identical expressions of dazed shock. He winced mentally and then said, "Let us speak more inside...with Lord Stark's permission?" he prompted, giving his uncle a look.

His uncle looked startled for a minute, before gathering him and nodding gravely, "Of course, let us speak in my solar...there is much we must discuss." He turned to the Cassels, "See to Lord Manderly and Lord Reeds men, they must be tired after their long journey."

The Cassels nodded in unison and began moving away, giving orders and gesturing to servants as they obeyed Ned.

"This way my Lords," Uncle said, beckoning the Lords to follow him, as he began walking away.

Uncle took the lead, Lord Reed and Manderly following him. Robb hesitated for a moment before joining them. Jon started to followed them.

The noise in the courtyard grew as the assembled men began to disperse and the regular business of Winterfell resumed. He heard a small yelp and looked to see Arya up to her tricks as she surprised Meera. Meera looked annoyed for a moment before they embraced, the pinched look on her face disappearing and being replaced with happy smile. Jojen was with them and he had a...well not a scared look on his face as he looked at Arya, but a concerned one.

Jon winced again internally, so that was someone else that probably knew Arya's secret. He sighed silently, that was yet another secret that Uncle did not know yet and he wouldn't take it well when he did find out.

A problem for another time, he pushed those thoughts away and focused back on the coming meeting.

xoxoxoxoxoxxooxxoxooxxoxoxoxox

In uncle's solar they found Sansa waiting for them with wine laid out for them.

Father cast her look and gave her a jerk of his head, trying to dismiss her...but she ignored it completely. It was yet another battle in the silent struggle of Wills between Sansa and Uncle that was ongoing ever since their first little talk about Ramsay and other things. Sansa was winning most of the time...including this time.

She stepped forward and welcomed the Lords as an exasperated look flashed over uncle's face for a moment before he conceded defeat and moved on.

As much as Uncle didn't want her here, she would help give them all perspective. He'd come to value her words, even if they didn't agree on everything.

Uncle, Robb, Sansa, Lord Manderly, Lord Reed and Maester Luwin, were all in the solar and not with a little trepidation Jon knew that after this meeting everything would change....

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Eddard Stark

Watching Wyman and Howland pledge fealty to Jon had been beyond jarring. It truly was a new world now.

He glanced at where Sansa was sitting listening attentively as Lord Manderly spoke. She was a Lady now, despite how young she looked, like a miniature Catelyn...only Catelyn's teeth weren't as sharp as Sansa's...being brought to task and called on one's mistakes by your young daughter was not amusing.

Jon was still avoiding their...his need for a private talk. When they weren't talking strategy, he trained in the yard, dragging Robb along. Both had improved in leaps and bounds beyond what he remembered...but that was what war did to men. And they were now men, the boys he'd left in Winterfell a lifetime ago, had become hard determined men. They had seemed to switch roles as well, Robb was the dour one now, with Jon being the one that smiled easily. Jon had blossomed into the better swordsman, a spectacular swordsman in fact, though many of his blows did come off under powered during training sessions. Ser Rodrik had pointed this out and Jon had nodded, saying that he need to get reaccustomed to not using Valyrian steel. Ned's surprise had been great, where had Jon found Valyrian steel to fight with? That had actually been a short story, it had been a gift in the previous life from Lord Commander Mormont, Longclaw, the ancestral blade of House Mormont. Surprises aside, imagining the new Jon with Valyrian steel in his hand just made him more impressive. And it made Ned even more proud of the man Jon had become. The rest of Jon's time was spent in private talks with Sansa. She seemed to constantly drag Jon away, whenever Ned approached. Thanks to her interference, he still hadn't managed to clear the air between him and Jon.

He pushed that aside, paying attention to Wyman as he explained how he had had a couple of Ironborn ships seized in White Harbor till they could figure out who they loyal to. His son, Wylis was fortifying White Harbor while Wendel was on his way to the Twins along with Howland's men. All their faces had turned turned dark as Wyman spoke of the Twins.

After the return, ravens had flown between White Harbor and Riverrun. Edmure Tully was taking men to the Twins and would lay siege to the Twins from the other side as the Reed and Manderly men attacked the other side. They should also have received reinforcements from the Vale.

Robb was grinning wolfishly at this news and Sansa's eyes had that bloodthirsty look that disturbed him so much whenever it appeared. Jon was grave but had a satisfied look in his eyes.

They turned to the other matters quickly enough, the plan for what to do in the North was already pretty much hammered out before Wyman and Howland arrived, a progression from the Dreadfort to the Karhold to the Last Hearth to settle their issues with these three major houses- or in the Boltons case, to wipe them out.

Roose Bolton's neck had an appointment with Ice that Ned was eager to keep. Ramsay too.

Lord Karstark had sent a blustering, raging message with many colorful words expressly aimed at Robb. Most of them anatomically impossible. Their visit to the Karhold would not be pleasant.

As for the Last Hearth...the Umbers had been ominously silent.

The sundered North had to be healed and then...on to Castle Black to sort out the situation with the Wildlings....the larger plan to deal with the rest of Westeros and then the Others was another matter entirely.

All through the talks, Howland as was his habit spoke little. He added his succinct opinion about certain matters but for the most he let Wyman, Sansa and Jon do the talking.

"We must declare for Jon, Ned, it is our best option," Wyman insisted, nodding energetically and making the folds of neck flap.

Ned pressed his lips together, it was the same opinion he'd heard from Sansa...at length and loudly, and now it was being repeated to him now by not one, but two of his most loyal bannermen.

Ned turned to Luwin, the maester had been silent for since the meeting began. "Luwin, you have yet to offer your opinion?"

The old maester sighed, Luwin had been silent, watching everyone with tired, unhappy eyes, "All of this is something that I never imagined possible. I doubt any maester has had to deal with such an impossible situation....but perhaps this will help you make your decision my Lord..." He reached into a sleeve and pulled out two scrolls, "We have received more ravens...from Riverrun and the Eyrie," he paused heavily before continuing gravely, "From your goodfather in Riverrun...Lord Hoster and Ser Edmure swear allegiance to...Jon of House Targaryen, and they pledge the loyalty of the Riverlands to the rightful King."

Hoster is supporting Jon? And Edmure? Jon hadn't done anything and he already had one kingdom swearing fealty to him?

Luwin wasn't finished as he held up the second raven scroll, with an unsettled expression on his face, "This one is from the Eyrie. Lord Yohn Royce, acting Regent for Robert Arryn, pledges the support of the Knights of Vale to Jon of House Targaryen." He paused again, "Though both messages are asking for clarification of what exactly happened to the original plan."

It had barely more than a week since...everything had changed and if he agreed to this Jon would already have control over almost half of Westeros. They had yet to receive word from the Westerlands, but Bran assured them that Tyrion Lannister was in control there, it was only a matter of time before they received a raven from him. The Reach, again according to Bran, was going through an upheaval though he'd been cryptic over what was happening there. The Stormlands, baring a few exceptions, they would probably stand with Robert. And you never knew which way the Crownland Lords would go till they moved.

As for Dorne...Bran had been grimacing as he mentioned them. The less said the better...that's what he had said. Whatever was happening there, he knew enough about the dornish to know that they would never stand with Robert because of Elia and her children. They'd also wouldn't see Jon in a good light, considering what Rhaegar had done, spurning Elia Martell for Lyanna. At worst they would remain neutral.

His bannermen had been pulling towards Jon since they arrived. They gave him the same reasoning as his children. It had all been a repeat of conversations he'd had with Jon, Sansa Bran, and Arya, of all people in the days since their return.

Ned closed his eyes and couldn't speak, he knew this was coming, he'd tried to deceive himself but deep down he'd known.

"You want me to betray Robert? You want me, to stand against Robert," he asked carefully, not opening his eyes. The words were beyond painful for him to speak aloud.

Wyman and Howland didn't answer him. It was Sansa who answered him, "You've already betrayed him keeping Jon safe. And now, it is only a matter of time before he finds out about Jon. What do you think he will do then?" her child's voice was sharp, her adult words sharper.

He knew what Robert would do. It was why he'd hidden Jon all those years ago. The bloodied remains of Elia and her children showed him the depths Robert would sink to. Tywin Lannister had done the deed but Robert had stood by and clapped...nothing but Dragonspawn, he'd spewed venomously. Their arguments in King's Landing about Daenerys's fate showed him how much Robert hadn't changed in all the years since.

He mourned for the good and proud boy he'd know in the Vale all those years ago. For all that Jon Arryn had tried to instill proper sense into Robert all those years ago, but the old man had failed. Robert had laughed and whored and drunk his way through life no matter what anyone told him. His charisma had helped people overlook his flaws but....

He opened his eyes and looked about him. Sansa was giving him an adamant look, that brooked no argument. She knew she was right and would drag him along no matter what he said. Robb was unhappy and uncertain. Jon's face was unreadable and blank, expectantly waiting for whatever he decided, he would abide by whatever was decided. Wyman and Howland had beseeching looks wanting him to agree...to rise up in rebellion against a man who was closer to him than either Brandon or Benjen had ever been.

It was unthinkable, unimaginable...it went against his instincts...

But the Long Night was coming. Everything changed because of that one fact...there was more at stake than his honor or his bonds with Robert.

Duty to the North, to all of the peoples of Westeros, dragged the words out of his mouth.

"You are right."

The words rang with such a tone of finality in his ears. It was the death knell of the old and the birth of the new. In a haze, he rose from his chair and walked around his desk to come to Jon's side.

Jon's face was pale and unreadable now as he stared up him. Ned went down to one knee, he bowed his head in submission, "Your Grace, House Stark renews it's fealty to House Targaryen. Winterfell and the North are yours to command."

A pregnant hush fell on the solar, and he could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. There was no going back now.

He felt hands pulling him up. He looked up...it was Jon. His expression was grave and his eyes sympathetic, "I accept your fealty Lord Stark...but you need never kneel to me...father."

There was lump in his throat at Jon's words. He didn't know how to react after those accepting words. Jon knew he was his uncle but he still considered him his father, despite the truth of his birth.

They really needed to have that damn conversation.

He was standing there numb. He done it. Jon had his oath now, and there was no turning back now. He felt drained and exhausted, he didn't think he had any words left in him now.

The solar was very quiet now.

Sansa broke the awkward silence as she rose and spoke evenly with an assured, light tone, "My Lords you must be tired from your journey, I'm sure that Mother has prepared a proper meal to refresh you. Afterwards we can finalise all we must do."

Wyman rose quickly for a man his size and smiled at Sansa, "Lady Sansa is gracious and thoughtful, as always," he complimented, "And right as well, a good hearty meal would do us all good now."

Wyman offered his arm to Sansa. She took it and they left the solar together. Jon and Robb cast a glance at him, but didn't say anything as they followed, sensing his dark mood.

A hand fell on his shoulder, "Come on Ned, you look like you need a good drink," Howland said with an easy smile.

Ned looked at his old friend and couldn't disagree, he nodded and he forced himself to move. Together they left his solar, following behind the others.

His feet were moving by their own accord, Howland was by his side, but his mind was focused on the irreversible change he'd agreed to not moments ago. It was done now and he had to move on. He pushed his mind and thoughts forward. He cast a glance at Howland as they walked, his old friend appeared to be quite happy despite everything...but he knew that there was more private things they needed to talk about. And it was better to breach the subject now, then let it fester.

As they entered the Great Hall, Ned pulled Howland aside, "Howland....about Meera...Jon told me what happened with Bran."

Howland's didn't even waver as he cut Ned off with a wave, "Ned, everything's changed," he paused and then gave a momentarily sad look at him before speaking, "Ned...I sent off Jojen from Greywater Watch, knowing full well I would never see him again...and yet he has returned to me! If the cost of that is Meera's broken heart, it's a price I'm willing to pay. I've spoken to Meera about it....and she agrees. And given enough time, broken hearts do mend."

Howland's words brought him up short, he stared at his old friend, suddenly at a loss for words, he didn't know whether in his place he could have been as strong...or as forgiving.

Howland's sadness twisted into amusement and he let out a small laugh, "With everything that's happened, she was actually madder at Jojen than Bran that first day."

Ned frowned as his confusion deepened, "Why?"

"She was mad that Jojen didn't warn her about what Bran would become. That first night, she was laughing and crying and hugging Jojen. Then she punched him in the face, laying him out flat. She started shouting for a moment and then she picked him off the floor and was hugging him again." Howland laughed again.

Ned gave him a concerned look.

Howland held up a hand, "Don't get me wrong it was very alarming at the time, but it is funny now." he finished with a grin.

Ned stared at his old friend for a moment before looking away and shaking his head, "As you say, my friend."

Howland reached out and patted him on the shoulder, "Don't worry about it Ned, you have enough to worry about without adding this."

Howland's kind words held more truth than he cared to admit.

The Crannogman jerked his head towards the dais where the others were taking their places at the table, "Lya would be proud," he said quietly, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Ned turned towards Jon. He was playing the host, talking and gesturing with Lord Manderly and Robb. Sansa sat with them and simply watched with her sharp eyes.

Jon's face was welcoming and smiling, his back straight and proud. The dark and brooding expression that graced his face so much, gone and no where to be found.

Lya's son. He nodded. Yes, Lya would be proud of the man he'd become now.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Robb Stark

They were gathering in the great hall. Father had called together everyone. He would address everyone, there had been so many rumors flying around Winterfell since they'd awoken here. Father would lay all the rumors to rest now. The Great Hall was crowded with the men and women of Winterfell. Servants and Guards. There were some Manderly and some Reed men but mostly it was just the inhabitants of Winterfell.

Seeing Lord Manderly bending the knee to Jon had been a jolt to his psyche, and hadn't helped him to find his bearings. The adrift feeling he'd had since waking up back in Winterfell was still there, it was better, especially after his first talk with Jon. The training had helped, though it was a little galling to see just how much better Jon was with a blade now. Teasing Arya helped as well...at least at first. The look in her face as he'd mentioned Gendry and reminded her how many times she'd said she didn't want to be a lady had been spectacular. Seeing her turn so many shades of red had set him laughing so hard, he'd nearly fallen down. He'd turned to Jon, expecting him to join in the teasing but he'd actually stepped away from him and was slowly inching away with a pained expression on his face.

Jon's strange reaction aside, her retaliation had come, as expected; sheep dung under his bed and he'd been prepared...everything that came next he was not prepared for. Little things that could be passed off as embarrassing accidents...except that each and every time, he'd turn around and she'd be there smiling sweetly. The perfect image of innocence. The adrift feeling had started to return then.

His thoughts turned back to the present, the strange boy, Jojen Reed had disappeared to the Godswood with Bran hours earlier and hadn't reappeared yet. Arya was apparently keeping an eye on them. Meera Reed stood with him, standing next to Sansa and mother. Meera reminded him a bit of Arya. According to Jon, she was a fighter and a good friend to Arya. He'd also told him about her relationship with Bran of all people. They'd spent a lot of time together as Bran gradually became the Three eyed Raven, though she'd had no idea of what he'd become in the end. He didn't envy her.

Mother was quiet now, she had been ever since the truth came out...and she knew what was coming now. She may have looked the perfect picture of a composed Highborn Lady but her clenched hands betrayed her thoughts to him.

They stood at the edge of the dais of the Great Hall, and it was time. Father walked up to the dais and raised his hand before calling for quiet. It didn't take long for silence to descend on the crowded hall.

Father gazed around his eyes steely and determined, his voice was grave as he began, "Most of remember what happened..." a murmur of discord ran through the crowd. "We have a chance to change our fates and we will not squander it!" he called out gruffly. A second more upbeat murmur ran through the crowd and he could see the grim determination in the eyes of the people assembled, "Too many rumors have spread in the past days since we awoke...and many people have been acting strangely," Father's eyes drifted to Jon and Sansa as he said the last words.

A bleak look crossed and disappeared from father's face so fast Robb thought that he imagined it.

"I am here to put those rumors to rest. Jon Snow...is not my son. He is Lyanna's son...his father was Rhaegar Targaryen."

The words were said and the hall exploded with noise.

"Hear me! Hear me!" father called out his voice louder now and cutting through the din of the hall, "I lied to protect my nephew from Robert! He is of the blood of House Stark! And he is no bastard! Rhaegar set aside Elia Martell and married Lyanna!" he shook his head as stunned silence descended on the crowd, " I do not know why Lyanna sent no word of this. Nor do I know why Brandon did what he did....I did not know the truth till I found Lyanna on her deathbed." Sorrow filled father's eyes.

Robb had never seen father so upset before. He looked around and he saw people gazing at Jon in disbelief. Most were looking at him as if they were seeing him for the first time. Some had heard and believed the rumors...others hadn't.

Father wasn't finished, and Robb knew what was coming next, "Understand, there is more to be said...much more. There are threats we knew nothing about. We must deal with them to change our fate...but I am not the one to speak of them," Father paused suddenly looking much older, "To this end...I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North...have renewed House Stark's pledge of fealty to House Targaryen," father turned to Jon, "To my sister's trueborn son, Jon of House Targaryen. The rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. The North is yours, command us." Father grave tone carried in the silent hall as all assembled stared in disbelief and shock at him.

Jon's face was unreadable as walked up onto the dais and stood by father. Their eyes locked for a moment before Jon surprised father and embraced him. Father returned the hug after a moment before they split apart.

Jon turned to the shocked crowd and cast an evaluating look at the people, "You all know me. And I know you. You've all treated me well as I grew up despite my position as the bastard of Winterfell...at least most of you," he said with a small laugh.

A nervous laugh spread through the crowd and Mother seemed to shrink into herself more at Jon's humorous barb.

"I didn't want to be King...but fate has other plans. My duty is to you, the people of Winterfell...to the people of Westeros. You all knew I joined the Night's Watch...the first time. What you will not know is that I became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch....many other things happened and then I became the King in the North."

The people were murmuring again now, he ignored the stares that some of them were giving him after Jon's King in the North comment.

"You all think you know who our true enemies are. The Lannisters? The Ironborn? The Wildlings?" As Jon mentioned each group his words were met by jeers and looks of hatred and rage.

Jon stopped and took a deep breath, it was time for the full truth, "We did this! We found a way to turn back time! Why, you ask? Because...the Night's King is coming for us."

Jon's words were met with horror and disbelief. The Hall exploded again with noise as people began shouting and arguing, crying out in disbelief and denial.

"The Night's King is real! The White Walkers are real! A second Long Night is upon us! I have seen the army of the dead! I have seen the Night's King! With my own eyes!" Jon shook his head and there was actual fear on his face now. "They are coming to kill us!"

Robb could feel the fear in the people now. They did know Jon and they knew fanciful tales were not something he ascribed to.

"...We failed the first time," he admitted grimly, "The strength of Westeros was wasted in petty wars as we ignored the pleas of the Night's Watch for help! But not this time! We have a second chance! Old wounds must be forgotten and new bonds formed! We must stand united! That is the only chance we have! We know now what is coming! And we will be prepared!" his voice echoed in the hall.

Robb felt his back straightening in response to Jon's sudden charisma. Jon's words stirred his heart, it beat faster his chest. He looked at him and Robb almost couldn't recognize his own brother.

Jon paused his eyes shining with emotion as he gave the crowd a look, "This time we will not go gently into the night! As Bran the Builder and our ancestors did, we will turn back the Cold- We will bring the Dawn! Winter will fall and Summer will rise! Do not doubt that! See to your duties and we shall to see to the rest!" Jon finished charismatically.

The people of Winterfell cheered, their looks of fear gone and transformed into determination and defiance. The words were a dismissal and as Jon and Father descended from the dais, the people, energetic and fired up, disbursed to obey their new King.

To Robb's eyes now, it wasn't Jon Snow standing in front of him now...it Jon Targaryen, the rightful king.

"You didn't used to be so good speaking to crowds," Robb remarked in surprise as Jon and father joined them.

Jon just shrugged.

"It's too much time with Daenerys," Sansa retorted with an amused smile, "Now she can truly command a crowd. You have to hear her speak to believe it."

Robb thought he detected more than a little envy in his sister's words.

"Aye, that's true," Jon added.

"She...she sounds like a formidable woman," Robb said in surprise.

"You have to be when you ride a dragon as big as Drogon," Sansa retorted dryly.

Robb mulled that over for moment, a little unnerved. He looked to Jon and changed the subject, "What now?"

The grimness returned to Jon's face, "Now...we ride to the Dreadfort."

A wolfish grin blossomed on Robb's face as he imaged just what he would do to Roose.

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Robert Baratheon

Robert thought back to his deeply disturbing conversation with Lancel, Lancel had been a foaming at the mouth zealot of the worst kind. The freshly carved seven pointed star on his forehead still dripping with fresh blood and his roughly shorn golden locks. His bruised face and lack of mewling had spoken to the blonde idiot's sheer resilience. Robert was still deeply disturbed by their conversation. It had happened so many days ago and still Lancel's words chilled him. The confessions Lancel had made...had it come from any other man, he'd have killed them were they stood. But the change in Lancel had been so stunning and unimaginable he'd merely walked away, almost in fear.

He cast that dark thought aside and focused. Lancel had confirmed Renly's insane story about Cersei and the Kingslayer. The perverted truth about his children's parentage. Lancel had proclaimed all of his sins proudly, actually challenging Robert to take his revenge.

He'd done that after telling him about how's he drugged him during that final boar hunt...

The sheer audacity and fearlessness of the little shit unnerved him. The insults, the bare truths he slung like arrows...

He hadn't listened to the rest of the words he spewed haughtily, but Renly had. All he'd been able to do was stare at his once toothless, mewling, coward of a squire and his unimaginable transformation into someone that had managed to make the cold and deadly Mandon Moore call 'not weak'.

He'd left without another word, too dazed to even spit and threaten Cersei as she languished in her own Black Cell.

In a way, both she and Pycelle were lucky he had spoken to Lancel first. Pycelle especially. He'd probably have beaten him to death for covering Jon's murder, if Lancel hadn't so disturbed him.

But Lancel had disturbed him. And Robert's rage had cooled faster than he imagined as he thought back to all the mistakes that were now glaringly obvious to him now.

For once in his life, Robert had thrown himself into seeing to his duties and not whoring and drinking the days away. The days had pasted tersely but Renly had manged to admirably settle the city. King's Landing was mess but at least order had been restored. The Sparrows were dead or languishing in cells. A semblance of order had returned to the Goldcloaks, as a new Lord Commander was installed, Ser Jacelyn Bywater, old Ironhand. Robert remembered him from Pyke, a good stout man to whip the city watch back into shape after the riots and the other desertions.

His Kingsguard were depleted now, Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy had deserted. His blood still boiled when he thought of those two. Boros Blount was slain protecting Cersei from Loras Tyrell. Preston Greenfield had fallen fighting...someone. No one was actually sure who he'd been fighting. Mandon Moore, Meryn Trant and Arys Oakheart were the only remaining members...though Arys didn't remember like the other two.

The Small Council was in tatters, there had been no Hand to begin with and his previous one had apparently been assassinated. His Master of Coin's head was found rolling around the Red Keep and his Master of Whispers had just vanished...there was no one who would admit to having to seeing Varys since before the chaos had began.

Only Renly, his Master of Laws was left...and Robert was proud of how Renly was shaping up, the unfortunate death of Loras Tyrell had ignited a fire in him. He was still as dressed up as he always was, but an actual battle and staining his sword red with his enemies' blood had awakened his Baratheon spirit.

As for Loras, his bones were already on their way to Highgarden, with an honor guard of Baratheon men and all the Tyrell men in the city. That situation was an utter mess, both Mace Tyrell and Olenna would be screaming for Lannister blood when they found out. At least that was one ally he could depend upon to stand with him against the Lannisters.

Ravens had been sent from the Red Keep after a proper maester had been found in the city to replace Pycelle. The new maester was young and became flustered every time he had to deal directly with Robert. The first raven had been sent to the Citadel, demanding a new Grand Maester to replace Pycelle. The second had gone to Dragonstone, demanding Stannis come to King's Landing. The third had gone to Highgarden for obvious reasons. The fourth had gone to Winterfell.

The raven to Winterfell had been the hardest to write. How does someone apologize for getting their best friend killed?

It would be a long time till they heard from Ned...though Robert imagined that his old friend was gathering his men to deal with his traitorous Lords...the Boltons were probably in dire straits now. And after that...after that Robert had no bloody idea what Ned would do. But it would probably include a lot of heads on spikes. The Freys first? Then the fucking Lannisters. Gods damned Red Wedding!

War was coming and Robert would be ready for it.

Many ravens had since flown to the Stormlands and Crownlands. Banners would be gathered and then he would drag the fucking Lions from their Rock kicking and screaming. He'd show them what a Baratheon Rains of Castamere would look like!

But that would take time...for now he was pacing the Small Council's meeting room waiting for Cressen and Stannis to arrive. Word had arrived from the docks that a ship from Dragonstone had finally arrived, many, many days late. Cressen's reply had spoken of unavoidable delays but it had taken him more than a week to come from Dragonstone!

From Dragonstone!

If it was anyone else, Robert would have thought that they were trying to trying to buy time to escape or something...

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor with your pacing," Renly called out breaking his line of thought.

Robert turned to his brother sitting at the meeting table, nursing a goblet of wine. A tight expression splayed on his face...was that even some fear in his eyes?

Robert scowled, "How long does it take to get from the docks to the Red Keep?!" He demanded irritably before glaring darkly at Renly, "Your feud with Stannis will end today!"

Yes, it was fear in Renly's eyes, "As you say brother."

"Yes as I say!" Robert retorted hotly, "We have enough enemies without fighting amongst ourselves!"

Renly didn't reply he just grimaced in response.

Whatever Robert would have said next was lost as the door to the Small Council chambers were opened and in shuffled Cressen, the links in chains jingling as he walked.

"Cressen!" Robert said with a smile, as he laid eyes on the aged maester. Seeing the old man was balm to Robert's heart. The old man had been with them since...well, forever.

"Your Grace," Cressen said as he approached, he bowed, a strained expression on his face.

"None of that your grace nonsense, not for you. It's just Robert," Robert welcomed his old teacher warmly.

Cressen nodded sagely, "Of course your-Robert."

"I'm glad to see you as well, Cressen," Renly said rising and embracing the old man warmly, a happy smile on his face.

Cressen gave them a strained smile as he broke from Renly's embrace, "It is good to see you both in these strange times."

The old maester, formerly of Storm's End, now of Dragonstone, was finally here, but where was Stannis? He asked this of Cressen.

The old man looked pained for a moment before speaking, "Uh...he'll be along shortly."

Robert growled, "What's going on?"

Cressen shook his head mournfully, "You won't believe me, unless you see it with your own eyes."

Robert stared at the old man in confusion for a moment before unhappily letting the remark pass. He moved on, "It been more than a week, what took you so long to get here?"

Cressen was squirming now, "It was because of the...desertions."

"Desertions?! What desertions?" asked Renly hotly, taking the words out of Robert's mouth.

Cressen paced for a moment before the table before turning to face Robert, "Dragonstone is nigh undefended, most of the men just up an left because of this...this...remembering business. It took me this long just to sort out and find an interim and proper commander for the few men left there."

The words shook Robert, but as he was staring at Cressen, he suddenly realized, "You don't remember?" Renly looked surprised at the question.

Now it was Cressen's turn to be surprised, "You do?" He looked at the Baratheon brother's faces, "You both do?"

Robert nodded, "Aye."

"It's not some sort of mummery?" the maester asked in surprise.

Renly shook his head.

Cressen blinked, he asked hesitantly, "What happened?"

Robert shrugged, "We died."

Cressen suddenly looked very old and pale as he digested the terrible words.

"You died. You both died?" he asked carefully, as if not understanding the words.

Renly answered, his face turning dark and hard, "Robert was...more or less poisoned," he paused and the fear was back his eyes, "A shadow killed me...a shadow with Stannis's face."

Cressen gaped at Renly, he was holding onto his chain with one hand now, and Robert could see Cressen's knuckles turning white. The old man was swaying a little on his feet as well.

"Perhaps you should sit down," Robert said quickly coming to Cressen's side and guiding him quickly to a chair. That had probably been too much information too fast, he thought idly.

Cressen sat down, his eyes blinking, Renly came to him and handed him a goblet of wine, "Here drink."

The maester gulped the wine, before turning back to Renly, "A shadow?" he whispered. He looked down and deep in though and mumbled to himself, "She's a Shadowbinder..."

Robert frowned, she, who? What's a Shadowbinder?

The sound of arguing voices and then the slamming open of the door echoed through the room. Stannis stood in the doorway, head held high, the same sullen and pinched look in his face as always.

Renly was on his feet in an instant, his hand going to his swordbelt, thankfully he was unarmed at the moment.

Stannis stared about for a moment before deigning to look at them.

Robert glared at Renly once, silently warning him not to do anything rash, before turning back to Stannis.

Stannis glared.

Robert glared.

Renly glared...but the fear was back.

Stannis opened his mouth...before emitting an echoing burp that reverberated through the room.

Robert blinked, what?

Stannis staggered into the room and now Robert could smell him. Stannis reeked of wine. Stannis gave him a dismissive look before locking his eyes on the pitcher of wine on the table. He walked to he table and grabbed the pitcher, but instead of pouring himself a cup, he raised the pitcher to his lips and drank deeply. He pushed a chair out and collapsed into it, the pitcher still in his hands. He glared up at Robert.

Robert met Stannis's glare and stared for a long moment before snorting and laughing in amusement, "Are you drunk, Stannis?" he asked with a smile.

Stannis lifted the goblet to his lips and drank, he hiccuped once, "Aye." his voice was slurred and he gazed sullenly at Robert.

"Stannis is...drunk," Renly was staring at Stannis, the fear gone from his eyes and replaced with disbelief.

Robert was still staring at this impossible image. Prim and dull, rigid Stannis...drunk...completely and utterly drunk. His smile widened as he finally noticed the healing bruises on his face. He chuckled to himself, did Stannis finally prove himself a Baratheon and get drunk and get into a drunken brawl? He laughed again louder, the image of Stannis actually doing something fun like that beyond amusing.

"Let me guess, you finally went to see what all the fuss about taverns and drunken revelry is all about, didn't you?" Robert japed, needling his younger brother.

Stannis suddenly looked guilty, he didn't answer and instead drank deeply from the pitcher again.

"Had your first drunken brawl, eh?" Robert's smile deepened, oh Stannis you've missed out on so much...

Cressen hesitantly answered for Stannis after a strained moment, "Not as such...it was Ser Davos."

The mirth disappeared from his face, all thoughts of drunken revelry evaporating, "Ser Davos? Your own personal arse licker? That Davos?" thundered Robert in shocked surprise. "Why the bloody fuck would he attack you?" Ser Davos attack Stannis? That was like saying that Tywin Lannister liked and respected his father!

Stannis looked up angrily at Robert, "Fuck off Robert," he sneered.

Robert shook, his eyes widening as he gaped, "What?"

Stannis huffed, "Fuck off Robert, you screwed us all."

Robert didn't know how to react, on the one hand his stern and stiff brother was so far into his cups...there weren't any cups left, just a pitcher. On the other hand, the Lord of Dragonstone was telling the King of Westeros to fuck off...

Neither of these were situations he could have rationally expected when facing Stannis.

He turned to look at Renly, but he was too busy gaping to notice. He looked to Cressen. The old maester was staring aghast at Stannis's manner.

He turned back to Stannis, "What in the name of the old Gods and the new is going on?" he demanded. "Answer me Stannis! Why the fuck did Davos attack you?"

The guilty look intensified on Stannis's face and he gulped down more wine.

"He was angry. He despised me for what happened...before...You died and fucked us all. I was the heir! I still am the heir! We all warred! I went North...but winter was coming...Melisandre said we needed a sacrifice to melt the snows, to take back Winterfell from the Boltons," Stannis's words were slurred and he kept jumping about, "She needed King's Blood for the sacrifice...so I burned Shireen," he finished, before taking another gulp of wine.

Robert heard the words but couldn't think for several moments, the meaning of the words not fully registering in his mind for too many moments. He went white as a sheet when he finally understood. He stared at the creature sitting in front of him, who was this creature wearing Stannis's flesh?

He stomped up to Stannis and backhanded him across the face with enough force to knock him off the chair. Robert was shaking, seeing red and unable to think.

It was madness!

Madness!

The entire world had gone mad!

Stannis sat in a pool of wine on the floor, he looked up at the irate Robert and said, "And now you care about your fucking kin..." he slurred snidely. "You fucking moron." he glared balefully at Robert.

Robert saw red again and roared for the guards.

Men came running, led by Ser Meryn. Meryn had his sword out as entered, he glared at Renly and Stannis.

Robert pointed at Stannis and roared, "Get him out of my sight! Throw him into a Black Cell!"

Meryn sneered, "Gladly, your Grace."

The men with him, hauled up Stannis and dragged him from the room. Stannis just continued to stare balefully at Robert as he was dragged from the room.

Renly was staring after Stannis, an unreadable expression on his face, "There was so much I was going to say to him..." he trailed off, shuddering.

Robert was still raging, he glared at Renly.

"He told Davos to take Shireen and leave..." Cressen managed to say, his voice cracking with grief, "I couldn't understand why...till now," the old maester looked heartbroken. "I didn't understand anything..." he whispered in profound sorrow.

"Where is this Melisandre?!" thundered Robert in a rage. This witch would pay for what she did to his niece!

"She's not a threat...not anymore," Cressen said shaking his head, "She had...some sort of apoplexy...her body lives but her mind is dead."

"Good," growled Robert gloatingly. He looked at Cressen for a moment an idea forming in his mind, "Congratulations Cressen, you're my Grand Maester now, your first task is to send out ravens...find me Shireen and Davos!"