CHAPTER III - REMNANTS
Gods, what a sight.
Lyanna Stark was weary from the road, but Ned had freshened her up on their travels. She wore relatively plain clothes, as was her way, choosing a simple white and grey dress, with little in the way of ornate designs. She was a plain woman, but unlike most. Her plainness stemmed from her fierce nature, not from her timidity. The wolf in her was apparent, matched only by her brother Brandon. Ned was the outcast of the litter, tame, patient and calculated. Brandon had been the leader, strong, bold and ferocious. Lyanna was the pup, eager to impress. Wild, headstrong and every bit as fierce as her eldest brother. She was a beauty and a fighter, unlike any other in the Seven Kingdoms, and she was all Robert had ever wanted.
Ned Stark had sent a raven from Dorne, delivering the news to the new king. Lyanna was safe, and they would be back in King's Landing within the fortnight. Robert was overjoyed when the raven reached him. He had gone to war not only to save his head, but to also save hers. Rhaegar Targaryen had stolen the young Stark away from him, and he would not let that go unpunished. Now, Rhaegar was dead and Lyanna was safe. Robert immediately got about planning for her arrival. They would be wed within days of her arrival, it would be simple and only a select few would be permitted to attend. Robert also made a special arrangement, one specifically for his queen-to-be.
Where Lyanna had dressed simply, Robert had donned his finest clothes for his betrothed's arrival. A black velvet doublet, embroidered with a golden stag in the center, surrounded by gold trimmings. Black breeches and sealskin gloves matched the King's shirt, and the ensemble was completed by the King's new crown. A fine wooden piece, the crown was of a wooden design, painted slightly to appear gold. Antlers formed the circlet, with the front of the crown holding in it a large amber jewel. While Robert looked a true warrior in his plate, he too looked a true gentlemen when wearing his finery. In his hand, the King held his gift for his beloved.
In his left hand, Robert held a blue winter rose, Lyanna's favorite flower. Specific to the North, Robert had some of the flowers migrated to the gardens of the Red Keep, in anticipation of Lyanna's arrival. The process had been difficult, but nothing a king couldn't accomplish for his queen. Fresh from the garden, the sharp scent of the flower was still floating in the air around Robert, filling his nostrils. It was sweet. Another reminder of his betrothed and beloved. In his right hand, Robert held her crown. As his was wooden, so too was hers. Where the circlet of Robert's crown had been carved to form antlers, Lyanna's had been shaped into a crown of blue winter roses. There were no jewels or fine details, but as Robert so often reminded himself, Lyanna was the simplest woman a man could ever meet, and the crown would serve her well.
The wedding had gone as well as Robert could have hoped. Only a few were in attendance, Robert's friends, family and most loyal vassals, save for his brother Stannis. There were a handful of lords in the Stormlands that still refused to acknowledge Robert as their king, and so Robert had charged the new Lord of Storm's End with bringing them to heel. Stannis had departed from the capital weeks before, making for Griffin's Roost, to root out Lord Jon Connington. House Connington was the greater of the two threats still facing the crown, and so Stannis took the bulk of his forces to their keep, while he sent a smaller force to encircle the seat of House Hasty, preoccupying them until the Conningtons were dealt with. When Lord Jon was dealt with, Lord Barristan would follow suit, and the Seven Kingdoms would be fully in line, and the remnants of the war would finally wash away.
A number of months later, a raven arrived from the Griffin's Roost. It was brought before the king in his great hall. There, sat upon the Iron Throne, with his wife beside him, Robert read the contents of the parchment. "Your Grace, the siege of Griffin's Roost has been a success. Lord Connington is in my custody, and will be brought to the capital to face judgement as soon as Lord Hasty is likewise in custody. The Stormlands will be united soon enough. Yours humbly, Lord Paramount Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End."
Gods, when will he ever stop us by our titles? Robert thought. Stannis was a stubborn and prideful young man. Robert had the bravado, and Stannis had the iron will. Even as brothers, Stannis still saw fit to refer to Robert as 'Your Grace', and himself as 'Lord of Storm's End.' The war had brought the brothers closer together, but there was still a large chasm to cross before they could truly consider each other close. A great difference in personalities as children had seen to a great difference in values as adults, but their bond wasn't lost yet, they were still young. Robert knew he had too often neglected Stannis, but it was never out of malice. Renly was but a babe when their parents met their fates in Shipbreaker Bay, and it was left to Robert to raise him. Seven years had now passed since then, and Renly was a young boy now, but still too young to be left to his own devices. Stannis was far older, and even as a young teen he was mature beyond his years. He did not need raising, not the least by Robert. It was an issue Robert knew was of his own doing, and one that only he could solve.
The news from Griffin's Roost was uplifting. For the most part, the Seven Kingdoms had fallen nicely in line, swiftly putting aside past grievances in sight of a new future, a
Baratheon future, one that would be solidified by the heir growing inside Lyanna's womb. Many moons had passed since their wedding night, and it was now clear that Lyanna was bearing a child. She had not bled for some time, and her stomach began to swell to accommodate the unborn stag. Robert knew it would be a boy,
his boy, he just knew. Robert had rid the Seven Kingdoms of the tyranny of the Mad King, and the incestuous ways of the Targayens, and the Gods would no doubt reward him with a son, there was no other possibility in the King's mind. A son would be born to him, and one day, the crown would be his. It was the true beginning of the Baratheon dynasty, the beginning of the crowned stags.
More moons passed, and the end of the year was now fast approaching. Lyanna's stomach grew larger with each passing day, and Robert could not help but notice that so too did her breasts. It was hard for him, this... celibate lifestyle, but it was worth it. As a young lad, Robert was known for his ability to outdrink any man in the Stormlands, and bed any girl. There were times when Robert yearned for such days, but they were but memories to him now, he was a king now, a husband, and would very soon be a father too. His days of drinking and whoring were over.
I just pray I never run out of things to hit with my hammer, he thought to himself.
On the eve of the new year, a second raven arrived from the Stormlands, once again bearing the seal of his house.
"Your Grace," the letter began,
"Lord Hasty has surrendered his keep to my forces, and has been taken into custody. By the time this letter finds you, I will be but days from the capital. I bring with me those who seek to discredit you, and a now-united Stormlands. I pray that I have served you well. Yours humbly, Lord Paramount Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End."
Again with the formalities. Some days, the formal demeanor of his brother flustered Robert, and other days, it simply made him laugh. Today was one of the latter days. After all, why should Robert not have been happy? The remnants of those opposing him were now in his brother's custody, and were but days away from the capital, where they would face justice in the sight of Gods and men. Stannis had done Robert a great service, and would receive his thanks upon his return. It had taken nearly eight turns of the moon for Stannis to root out Lords Connington and Hasty, but he had done it, as always. Stannis had never been one to shy away from his duty. Robert called Ser Balon into his chambers.
"Ser Balon," he spoke, as the large knight entered through the door.
"Send word to the members of the Small Council. My brother will be here within days, and I wish for the council to convene before he does. Have them report to the chamber within the hour." Ser Balon nodded and departed to complete his task. Robert had let those who fought against him in the war bend the knee as a sign of good will, but Stannis' prisoners had refused his offer.
The Small Council will decide what is to be done with them, he thought.