Fic: Deliver Me
Title: Deliver Me
Rating: G
Character: Stannis
Word Count: 1,167
Summary: Storm's End has been under siege and starving for so long that even Stannis Baratheon is starting to see ghosts.
Note: Written for trickortreatex.
It was almost midnight and Stannis Baratheon walked the outer curtain wall of Storm's End alone. He had dismissed the men who had tried to follow him, desiring to be alone. The campfires of Lord Tyrell's host seemed as numerous as the stars in the sky, thousands and thousands of men waiting for his will to weaken and his resolve to fail. It would not happen; Stannis would never surrender. He would starve to death if he had to.
It was a hard thing, of course. The hunger kept him awake, which was why he was walking the wall instead of abed. It was hard to listen to little Renly cry for more food and to watch Maester Cressen become shrunken and old before his time. But it was his duty as Robert's castellan and brother to hold Storm's End. And while slow starvation was a bad end, being taken to King's Landing and burned alive by King Aerys was surely a worse one.
The besieging army was behind him and he was heading towards the sea when he saw a woman. Or rather he thought he saw a woman. It was only for a heartbeat, and he knew he must have been mistaken. No woman would be up here, least of all in the middle of the night. The hunger was affecting his mind, causing it to play tricks on him.
Still, the woman he thought he'd seen had had long, dark hair and pleasing facial features set in a proud look. The gown she'd been wearing had appeared quite costly. There was no such woman in Storm's End - no such lady.
When he was a young boy, only a little older than Renly was now, he and Robert had played with the common children of the castle. Once, during a particularly bad storm, when the grey clouds had turned the morning nearly as dark as night, they had taken turns telling each other frightening things. He could still remember what the farrier's boy had said.
"My Gran says the storm king's daughter still walks the castle. She waits to be crowned storm queen. Gran says she'll never rest until she gets revenge on the dragons who took her castle and her crown."
Even at that age Stannis had been affronted at the notion that his foremother might have ended up as a ghost. "Lady Argella had a long and good life, and died peaceably abed," he'd pointed out. "Hardly the sort of person to become a vengeful wraith. Everyone knows ghosts are people who died terrible deaths."
He thought of Argella Durrandon now, and how she'd been betrayed by her own men, how they'd feared the besieging army so much that they'd delivered their princess to the enemy. Stannis's resolve would hold, but he knew better than to be certain the same was true for his men. There had been no further murmuring about surrender since he'd had Ser Gawen and the other weak-willed traitors locked in the dungeon, but he knew the thought was in the men's minds. How soon before they sought to deliver him and Renly to their enemies?
He stared out at the ocean. The clean salt air was refreshing, a welcome change from the stench that emitted from him and everyone else within the castle as their bodies slowly died. It was too dark to see, but the Redwyne fleet was out there, blockading Shipbreaker Bay and making the siege of Storm's End complete. They could not even send out fishing boats; archers aboard the Redwyne ships had shot flaming arrows and destroyed their little boats.
They'd had no word on how Robert's rebellion was faring, for Mace Tyrell's archers made sure no ravens reached them, but Stannis knew it had not ended. If it was over, if Robert was dead, then Tyrell would tell him so, to convince him to finally surrender. Stannis would take the black then, the only question was whether they would send Renly off to the Wall with him or allow him to remain and become lord of Storm's End. Renly was only six, but boys even younger had been sent to the Wall or given to the Faith in the past.
He returned to his chambers shortly before dawn, but did not manage any sleep. He was tired, as he always was these days, but he felt heartened when Renly skipped into the solar as he was beginning the day.
"Our mother watched me sleep last night, Stannis."
His mood immediately plummeted and he winced to realize the effect hunger was having on Renly. Stannis made sure he was fed every day, with whatever could be found, but it was nowhere near enough. "Our lady mother is dead, Renly," he told his brother gently.
"I know, but she still came to watch me."
He tried reason. "How do you know that if you were asleep?"
"I woke up and saw her."
"You were dreaming. The maesters of the Citadel have studied the matter and concluded that there are no ghosts."
"But I saw her!"
"You were only a babe when she and our father died, you cannot remember her face. Likely it was one of the serving women checking upon you."
Renly shook his head. "It was a lady, not a servant."
"Perhaps it was the Mother Above," Maester Cressen interjected.
There was no Mother Above, nor any other god. But Stannis could not bring himself to contradict the maester within Renly's hearing, not now when they were in such dire circumstances.
He walked the curtain wall again that night. Maester Cressen had cautioned him not to expend the energy he had remaining, but lying in bed or sitting still was unbearable. He felt calmer when he walked out here alone. He was watching the campfires of Lord Tyrell's men and almost smelling the roasted meat of their dinners when two of his men came looking for him.
"My lord," Jacks gasped.
Both men were out of breath, having ran to find him. Poxy Pete was doubled over, but he managed to get more words out. "A smuggler! In the cavern! Food!"
A smuggler had slipped through the blockade and brought a cargo of onions and saltfish to sell. Stannis wanted nothing more than to fall upon the food and begin eating the onions without stopping to peel them or even to speak to their deliverer, but he restrained himself from acting like a starving man and comported himself as befit his station.
"You have our gratitude and you will have the price you ask. What is your name, smuggler?"
"Davos Seaworth, m'lord."
There had been a Davos Baratheon once, a son of Argella Durrandon. How serendipitous.
Stannis was not a man given to emotional displays. He patted Renly's head sometimes, and returned the embraces Renly liked to give, but otherwise he could not even remember when last he had touched another person in emotion. But he could not help clasping the smuggler's hands, for words alone could not express his gratitude and relief.
"You have our friendship for as long as we endure."
Rating: G
Character: Stannis
Word Count: 1,167
Summary: Storm's End has been under siege and starving for so long that even Stannis Baratheon is starting to see ghosts.
Note: Written for trickortreatex.
It was almost midnight and Stannis Baratheon walked the outer curtain wall of Storm's End alone. He had dismissed the men who had tried to follow him, desiring to be alone. The campfires of Lord Tyrell's host seemed as numerous as the stars in the sky, thousands and thousands of men waiting for his will to weaken and his resolve to fail. It would not happen; Stannis would never surrender. He would starve to death if he had to.
It was a hard thing, of course. The hunger kept him awake, which was why he was walking the wall instead of abed. It was hard to listen to little Renly cry for more food and to watch Maester Cressen become shrunken and old before his time. But it was his duty as Robert's castellan and brother to hold Storm's End. And while slow starvation was a bad end, being taken to King's Landing and burned alive by King Aerys was surely a worse one.
The besieging army was behind him and he was heading towards the sea when he saw a woman. Or rather he thought he saw a woman. It was only for a heartbeat, and he knew he must have been mistaken. No woman would be up here, least of all in the middle of the night. The hunger was affecting his mind, causing it to play tricks on him.
Still, the woman he thought he'd seen had had long, dark hair and pleasing facial features set in a proud look. The gown she'd been wearing had appeared quite costly. There was no such woman in Storm's End - no such lady.
When he was a young boy, only a little older than Renly was now, he and Robert had played with the common children of the castle. Once, during a particularly bad storm, when the grey clouds had turned the morning nearly as dark as night, they had taken turns telling each other frightening things. He could still remember what the farrier's boy had said.
"My Gran says the storm king's daughter still walks the castle. She waits to be crowned storm queen. Gran says she'll never rest until she gets revenge on the dragons who took her castle and her crown."
Even at that age Stannis had been affronted at the notion that his foremother might have ended up as a ghost. "Lady Argella had a long and good life, and died peaceably abed," he'd pointed out. "Hardly the sort of person to become a vengeful wraith. Everyone knows ghosts are people who died terrible deaths."
He thought of Argella Durrandon now, and how she'd been betrayed by her own men, how they'd feared the besieging army so much that they'd delivered their princess to the enemy. Stannis's resolve would hold, but he knew better than to be certain the same was true for his men. There had been no further murmuring about surrender since he'd had Ser Gawen and the other weak-willed traitors locked in the dungeon, but he knew the thought was in the men's minds. How soon before they sought to deliver him and Renly to their enemies?
He stared out at the ocean. The clean salt air was refreshing, a welcome change from the stench that emitted from him and everyone else within the castle as their bodies slowly died. It was too dark to see, but the Redwyne fleet was out there, blockading Shipbreaker Bay and making the siege of Storm's End complete. They could not even send out fishing boats; archers aboard the Redwyne ships had shot flaming arrows and destroyed their little boats.
They'd had no word on how Robert's rebellion was faring, for Mace Tyrell's archers made sure no ravens reached them, but Stannis knew it had not ended. If it was over, if Robert was dead, then Tyrell would tell him so, to convince him to finally surrender. Stannis would take the black then, the only question was whether they would send Renly off to the Wall with him or allow him to remain and become lord of Storm's End. Renly was only six, but boys even younger had been sent to the Wall or given to the Faith in the past.
He returned to his chambers shortly before dawn, but did not manage any sleep. He was tired, as he always was these days, but he felt heartened when Renly skipped into the solar as he was beginning the day.
"Our mother watched me sleep last night, Stannis."
His mood immediately plummeted and he winced to realize the effect hunger was having on Renly. Stannis made sure he was fed every day, with whatever could be found, but it was nowhere near enough. "Our lady mother is dead, Renly," he told his brother gently.
"I know, but she still came to watch me."
He tried reason. "How do you know that if you were asleep?"
"I woke up and saw her."
"You were dreaming. The maesters of the Citadel have studied the matter and concluded that there are no ghosts."
"But I saw her!"
"You were only a babe when she and our father died, you cannot remember her face. Likely it was one of the serving women checking upon you."
Renly shook his head. "It was a lady, not a servant."
"Perhaps it was the Mother Above," Maester Cressen interjected.
There was no Mother Above, nor any other god. But Stannis could not bring himself to contradict the maester within Renly's hearing, not now when they were in such dire circumstances.
He walked the curtain wall again that night. Maester Cressen had cautioned him not to expend the energy he had remaining, but lying in bed or sitting still was unbearable. He felt calmer when he walked out here alone. He was watching the campfires of Lord Tyrell's men and almost smelling the roasted meat of their dinners when two of his men came looking for him.
"My lord," Jacks gasped.
Both men were out of breath, having ran to find him. Poxy Pete was doubled over, but he managed to get more words out. "A smuggler! In the cavern! Food!"
A smuggler had slipped through the blockade and brought a cargo of onions and saltfish to sell. Stannis wanted nothing more than to fall upon the food and begin eating the onions without stopping to peel them or even to speak to their deliverer, but he restrained himself from acting like a starving man and comported himself as befit his station.
"You have our gratitude and you will have the price you ask. What is your name, smuggler?"
"Davos Seaworth, m'lord."
There had been a Davos Baratheon once, a son of Argella Durrandon. How serendipitous.
Stannis was not a man given to emotional displays. He patted Renly's head sometimes, and returned the embraces Renly liked to give, but otherwise he could not even remember when last he had touched another person in emotion. But he could not help clasping the smuggler's hands, for words alone could not express his gratitude and relief.
"You have our friendship for as long as we endure."