Wary, hostile eyes stared from the place he had called home for years, as he led his men into the courtyard through the gate they had just broken through. Loreon had ridden into the Red Keep a thousand times before, but never as one of the commanders in an invading army. In the courtyard, a large number of the defenders were slain, the crows already pecking at their corpses, and the smell of battle hung thick in the air. This castle that hadn't seen so much destruction in fifteen years, not since Tywin Lannister had sacked the city.

Loreon was part of the force sent straight to the keep once the city gates fell. When Lord Tarly had taken a severe arrow wound to the gut, it had been up to him to take over the whole force. It was under his command that the castle had fallen.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't eager for the moment where Cersei Lannister and her vile son were dragged before Stannis. The King would not show either of them a scrap of mercy. Though Loreon knew taking both their heads wasn't the best course of action from a diplomatic perspective, his protests that they should at least send Cersei to the Silent Sisters had been half-hearted at best. Though he would ensure that Tommen was spared. The boy - his cousin, if not his brother - did not deserve to die, even if he spent a lifetime at the Wall or the Citadel. Myrcella too; she could become a septa, or perhaps she might be able to quietly retire to Casterly Rock and marry a minor knight.

Though tempted to leave the visor down on his helm, weary from battle as he was, Loreon ultimately lifted it. They needed to look upon him, to see the face behind the huge figure in the scratched and dented armour. Loreon Storm, Lord of Storm's End rather than King Robert's bastard.

Having already instructed men to search the entire castle, making sure all the defenders were subdued and the false King contained, he allowed himself a moment to take a breath, something he hadn't done since waking up that morning. Too busy thinking, fighting, commanding half an army.

They had won the city, and Stannis' throne. He smiled at the thought, as the reality sunk in for the first time. King's Landing had fallen. Only months ago, that had seemed unthinkable.

It was not without sacrifice. Their fleet on the Blackwater had suffered grievous losses. The use of wildfire was an unforeseen blow, and whoever had thought up that chain blocking the escape back out to sea truly was a cold bastard. One of Ser Davos Seaworth's eight sons had been killed when his ship was blown up, as had many other good men.

Storming the city by land had been relatively simple, in comparison to attacking from the river. The city watch and the meagre remains of the Lannister army left here might have been a more formidable foe if they hadn't been dealing with attacks from half the smallfolk in the city at the time. Lady Bolton's idea had been even more devastating to the Lannisters than the wildfire had been to their ships.

As the city shut its gates in preparation for a siege a couple of weeks ago, Loreon had sent a dozen spies ahead of the army, entering the city with the last lot of scared farmers. Their task was to spread tales of all the food and provisions that the Baratheons and their allies were bringing with them, and that King Stannis would freely share it out once he won his throne.

This claim was shown to be true when the Baratheon army arrived with wagons full of food. Stannis himself had announced to the defenders on the walls that once the city renounced their false King, he would ensure they were fed. He also promised that there would be no sacking of the city, perhaps the only man in the kingdoms who would see that his men did exactly as he said with regard to that.

Word clearly spread despite Cersei and Tyrion's efforts to contain it. To an already starving and dissatisfied city, this was the spark that lit the flames. As the full army assembled outside the walls, rioting within them increased.

Angry smallfolk could do little to Cersei and Joffrey shut away in the Red Keep, but in the heat of battle, it meant the goldcloaks were set upon not only by the attacking army, but also from within their own walls. Dissatisfied citizens of King's Landing threw stones at defenders on the walls, beat them with crude weapons, and cheered as Baratheon men rode through the gates, storming up Aegon's High Hill to the Red Keep.

One thing that had had them on edge throughout - and was still a concern, if Loreon was honest - was the possibility of the Tyrells allying with the Lannisters. They would have sustained far more serious losses, if the Tyrells had come up behind them and attacked, and even now, with half the city gates broken in, their position wasn't the most secure.

There was no sign of green banners on the horizon yet, however. Perhaps they had kept up Renly's slow crawl of a march to see how the battle turned out the form an alliance with the winner, which would be in keeping with their actions so far. And smart too, if the King had been anyone other than Stannis. He would never forgive the actions of Mace Tyrell during the Rebellion, feasting underneath the walls of Storm's End, though might have held them in less disdain if they had joined him immediately and helped win his throne.

Either way, the Tyrells weren't here for the moment, which was all that mattered. With Lord Tywin trapped in the west by Robb Stark - and Loreon could have kissed Ren for making sure they heard that wonderful piece of news (which had been soured by the news that came afterwards concerning his mother, but he was trying not to think about that) - there were no other pressing threats.

"My lord!" One of the knights from Storm's End ran towards him.

Loreon looked up. "By the look on your face, you've got nothing good to tell me. Is that why you haven't gone straight to the King?"

"If anyone can soften this blow, it's you," The man grimaced.

"Out with it, then,"

"We can't find the King," He said, hastily correcting himself. "Joffrey. We can't find Joffrey, or Cersei, or Tommen, anywhere in the castle,"

Loreon fought the urge to curse, instead closing his eyes briefly, taking a breath, before speaking.

"Are you sure?" He ground out, trying to keep his tone level. "Have you searched the whole castle? At least three times?"

They needed Joffrey's head on a spike, so he wouldn't be a rallying point for any sympathisers who truly believed him the son of Robert Baratheon, or any ambitious climbers happy to pretend they did.

"Yes, my lord," The man nodded apologetically. I'll never tire of hearing that. "No sign of them. Nor of Ser Ilyn Payne. We did find the Imp, though, and we've been told one of his guards is missing, a sellsword. I suppose the Imp instructed Payne and this man Bronn to escape with his sister and nephews while he posed a distraction,"

That's uncharacteristically selfless, Tyrion. He would have expected his uncle to do that for his younger sister, but not the elder.

"We have the city surrounded," Loreon snapped. "Send men out to look for them, as many as you can spare. They can't have gone far,"

Cersei would hardly be the best at a daring escape given she never travelled anywhere without her two-storey wheelhouse, and Joffrey was incapable of following instructions from anyone, let alone a sellsword.

"Yes, my lord," The man made to leave.

"And have Tyrion brought to me as soon as possible,"

"I'm afraid that's not possible," He stopped, turning back. "He somehow ended up leading a sortie," He nodded at the incredulous look Loreon gave him. "It ended as you'd expect. The Imp is currently with a maester, not likely to be conscious for days at least,"

"Make sure he is treated well," Loreon said, dismissing the man, the urge to punch a wall in frustration drowning out the concern he felt for his youngest uncle. Gods, he wasn't looking forward to telling Stannis that Joffrey had escaped. Though by all the reports Loreon had received, the new King was currently surrounded by adoring smallfolk - fighting and shoving each other to be first in line for the food wagons - as he tried to make his way to the keep, which was amusing to picture. Hopefully that would give him time to come up with what to say, at least.

Whilst Loreon couldn't pretend it wasn't a blow the bastard King and his mother had slipped through their fingers, he was glad that Tommen had got away. Otherwise he really would've had to fight to stop his uncle taking the boy's head along with Joffrey and the Queen's. It would be difficult enough arguing for Tyrion's life; it helped that the man was badly injured, in truth, for even Stannis wouldn't order the death of someone who couldn't open their eyes.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by someone shouting his name.

"Loreon!" The slender dark blur ran towards him the moment she recognised him. For a moment he thought the girl was going to barrel right into his horse, but she stopped a short distance away.

"Lady Bolton," He smiled genuinely at Ren's sister, dismounting his horse to greet her, but she was looking back through the crowd of soldiers impatiently.

"Oh, where is she? Sansa!"

The tall redheaded girl followed at a more sedate pace than her cousin, accompanied by the soldiers he had sent to find them both.

"Lady Stark," Loreon greeted her, wondering where the younger girl was, Arya.

"My lord," The girl bobbed a flawless curtsey, a blank expression on her face. "Congratulations on your victory. We are very grateful for you taking the city,"

"You don't have to talk like that anymore," Morganna Bolton rolled her eyes, turning back to Loreon and ignoring Sansa's protest of 'I always talk like that'. "I heard Cersei and Joffrey got away,"

The tone was accusatory, and that unimpressed look made her look like her mother. Perhaps she could be practice for facing Stannis, and Rosennis herself; the woman would hardly be enthused with joy at the news the boy that killed her brother had escaped.

"I'm as unhappy about that as you are," He said. "Forgive me, my lady. I would've singlehandedly scaled the walls and captured them myself, but I was rather busy at the time, trying to lead an army in breaking the gates,"

"Ren could've done it," She smiled then, wickedly, an abrupt change in expression. "He did kidnap your mother from her own bedchamber, remember,"

Yes, Loreon did remember that. Ren's actions were the reason he and Lady Rosennis hadn't spoken for at least three days the previous week. He had heard the news from a messenger as they made camp for the night, and seen red, marching up to Ren's mother as she rode into the camp. She had taken one look at his furious expression and before he'd even opened his mouth, Lady Bolton had got her own, sharply delivered and less than sensitive words in.

There are worse people who your mother could be in the hands of during a war... He's hardly going to mistreat her, he needs her unharmed to trade for the girls. Most notable was perhaps; Get that look off your face and act like a lord, rather than an angry little boy.

She had promptly continued on her way, but that hadn't stopped Loreon from demanding she write to her son telling him to return Lady Giana, grabbing the bridle of her horse when she ignored him. The skittish animal had immediately reared, and he was forced to jump back to avoid flailing hooves as she calmed the beast down, unfazed by the horse but glaring at him.

What are you going to do, kidnap me? Her words had been filled with remarkable disdain, and made him feel more foolish than anyone had in years. Remember who your allies are, Storm.

He had known all along that the woman made sense, but that didn't make him any less furious. Loreon's temper was the most Baratheon trait he possessed, and given Ren was half a kingdom away, he'd had to take it out on whoever was fool enough to spar with him that evening.

He and Lady Rosennis had ignored each other for a good few days after that. Both had realised how stupid that was soon enough, at around the same time. Though neither had actually apologised, one day it was simply as though the argument had never happened, and things were better for it.

Now Loreon found himself faced with the woman's daughter, laughing at him for exactly the same reason he had quarrelled with her mother.

"Yes, oddly enough I do remember," He smiled at the girl, knowing she wanted a reaction and refusing to rise to it. "As far as I know, Ren knows of no tunnels under the Red Keep to sneak in through in the night and drag Joffrey out,"

Though that would be worth checking, just in case. This castle had lots of secrets.

"I do," Morganna shrugged. "There's tunnels all over the keep. I spent my nights here exploring them," She caught the look on his face. Why in hells wasn't that the first thing you mentioned? "No, I thought of that, but I never found one out of the castle. Most of them are tiny besides - I barely got through some. Cersei would never fit, let alone Bronn and Ilyn Payne,"

"Cersei said she'd have Ser Ilyn kill us all if you won," Sansa said, still disturbed after the events of the past day and night. He could not blame her. Even Loreon had been horrified at the sight of the river exploding, aflame with green light. "Herself, Tommen, Joffrey, me and Morganna. So King Stannis doesn't get any satisfaction from taking the city,"

"At least she's gone, even if she's not dead," Morganna muttered darkly before Loreon could say anything to that. "At least I don't have to put up with any more of her madness," She turned to him. "Is my mother here?"

"She was at the edge of the battle when I rode out," He said. "But I doubt she stayed there, once it was clear we were winning," He narrowed his eyes across the courtyard, his height giving him an advantage. "If I'm not mistaken, that's her at the gate,"

"I can't see," Morganna was short to see over the heads of the soldiers. "Lift me up,"

Laughing at her request, Loreon obliged, picking the girl up by the waist and lifting her high enough that she had a better view. Though tall for her age, she hardly weighed anything at all.

Morganna's eyes lit up at the sight of the thin woman riding through the numerous soldiers towards them, flanked by her guards; all but two of them had fought in the battle, including Lady Mormont. Brienne and Perwyn Frey had guarded their lady.

Lady Rosennis picked them out of the crowd. She didn't gallop over sobbing or anything so dramatic, but did swing gracefully off the horse before it had even stopped moving, leaving a guard to take up the reins as she walked swiftly towards her daughter.

"Morganna," She hesitated, but the girl did not, flinging her arms around her mother, whom she was near as tall as now. The woman stiffened for half a second before relaxing, embracing the girl wordlessly. For just a moment, her ever-guarded expression slipped, and Loreon saw the sheer relief on her face, a small smile.

"Auntie," Sansa looked slightly unsure of herself but heartbreakingly relieved at the sight of an adult family member.

The woman glanced at her, but that smile remained, and Lady Rosennis embraced her too. From Sansa's expression, she did not do that often. The girl looked ready to cry, though sniffed and gathered herself. No doubt she had had practice with that, having been at Cersei's mercy.

"Lord Storm," Lady Rosennis turned to Loreon, hand still on her daughter's shoulder, and her smile was gone in the blink of an eye. "I heard Joffrey escaped with his mother,"

"I believe Tyrion arranged their escape, but was too busy leading a sortie to go with them," Loreon grimaced. "He's unconscious, so we can't ask him,"

"Were they that desperate for men?" She raised an eyebrow, but he did see a flash of concern in her eyes. He knew she had liked Tyrion, whenever she visited the Red Keep.

"Sandor Clegane deserted. No doubt it was the only way to rally the men,"

"Hm," He had never heard so much disapproval in one short syllable. She wasn't satisfied, but knew the crowded courtyard wasn't the place for that conversation. Rosennis gestured behind her, changing the subject. "Can my men be housed in the keep?"

"I'm sure rooms can be found for the knights," Loreon said. "And your men can sleep in the barracks. Lady Brienne, I'm sure arrangements can be made - "

"You're a woman," All eyes turned to Morganna as she stared at Brienne, who shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm glad to see that you've kept your manners during your time in the south," Lady Bolton raised a sharp eyebrow, and the girl grinned unapologetically. "This is Lady Brienne of Tarth. She's in my service now, having been a member of Renly's Kingsguard. Brienne, this is my delightful youngest daughter, Morganna," Her tone was dry.

"Lady Morganna," Brienne nodded politely, though still looked awkward.

Loreon suspected that pretty twelve year old girls were among some of the cruellest for mocking her. He'd noticed that Brienne was suspicious even of basic courtesy; given how she'd been treated in the past, it was likely unusual to expect even that, let alone anyone treating her kindly.

"A pleasure. My lady," Morganna bobbed a curtsey, still grinning, though there didn't seem to be any malice in her smile.

Their conversation was cut short by a flurry of activity near the broken gate; Stannis had arrived at last. The new King didn't look as cheerful as one might expect from a man who had just won his kingdom, but there was satisfaction in his eyes nonetheless even as he snapped orders impatiently. Loreon's uncle wanted that throne, badly, no matter how much he told others and himself that it was just for duty. This victory was a sweet one for them all.

Seeing Stannis Baratheon ascend the steps of the throne and seat himself amongst the blades and barbs was a sight he had at one point thought he might never see. An iron King for the Iron Throne. Loreon's uncle glowered down at them all, but looked every inch a ruler. The man was still the same as ever, despite winning his crown, so of course the moment the pomp and ceremony in the throne from was over, they convened in the small council chambers, and Stannis turned to him with a clenched jaw.

"The Lannister woman escaped. And her incestuous brats. Pretenders to my throne,"

Why everyone thought that Loreon was to blame for that was beyond him.

"I sent as many men as could be spared to look for them, your Grace," He said. "They can't have gotten far,"

"And what if they escaped by sea?" His uncle demanded. "We've hardly got a ship to send after them,"

While that was true, it was an unlikely scenario. Loreon doubted that Cersei and Joffrey would have made it through the streets to the docks, with the smallfolk screaming for the heads and Baratheon soldiers swarming through every gate. Even if they did, they would have had to sail up a river that even now was still on fire, and clogged with burning ships and dead bodies. Then somehow jump that wretched chain.

"If none of the riders I sent out return with Joffrey and Cersei, then they're likely still in the castle," He said. "There are tunnels all through the keep. They could be huddled away somewhere, hiding until things calm down and they can attempt an escape,"

That ran the risk of being found, of course. If he knew Tyrion, his uncle would have found a way to get them as far away as possible. They must have left during the siege, the moment it became clear they were going to lose, giving them a head start. In which case, the riders would bring them back within the week.

Stannis nodded. "Very well," He said, though hardly looked happy. "But I want those traitors found, and soon,"

Loreon nodded, grateful that there were other pressing matters to discuss. "Of course, your Grace,"

"I've had word sent to Dragonstone of our victory," His uncle said to the room. "Queen Selyse and Princess Shireen will be brought here as soon as the river is clear,"

Loreon couldn't help but catch the slight grimace Lady Rosennis gave at his words; given an official small council hadn't been selected yet, this first meeting was simply everyone who had been on the war councils before, which explained her presence. As they left the council chambers after everything was finished, he brought the matter up with her, mainly in jest.

"I shouldn't have been so obvious," She said. "Your dear Aunt Cersei once joked that I should get along very well with Lady Selyse. I did not appreciate the implications,"

"You're nothing like that woman, trust me," Loreon lowered his voice, leaning down so only she could hear. "Less of a moustache,"

Rosennis smirked. "I should hope so,"

*

In the next few days, Loreon was present at the King's side as Stannis began to mould King's Landing more to his liking. First of all was the small council. Alester Florent was made Hand of the King, a good choice that appeased the Reachmen and also undermined the Tyrells, who were still suspiciously quiet. Littlefinger was gone, sent to bargain with the Arryns and marry Lady Lysa, becoming Lord Protector of the Vale on behalf of the Lannisters before the threat of the battle had thrown things into uncertainty. Stannis had little love for the man, and appointed a Stormlord, Lord Buckler, as Master of Coin in his place.

Varys hadn't been seen since the battle; a wise decision, given the new King's distrust of him. His position had yet to be filled. Renly, formerly Master of Laws, was dead. Stannis gave that job to Randyll Tarly. Pycelle was being held in a tower cell, whilst they wrote to the citadel for a new Grand Maester, given this one was a Lannister lackey. Loreon anticipated that would be a long and drawn out affair, given how stubborn the maesters were with such matters.

All the members of the court and the lords of the Crownlands were made to swear fealty before King Stannis as soon as possible, as he sat on the throne. Not one refused, knowing that the punishment for disloyalty would be death. None of them loved the Lannisters enough to die for them; fear of Lord Tywin's wrath was not enough to inspire such loyalty.

The new Queen and the little Princess arrived from Dragonstone once the river was clear of wreckage and corpses. Their reception with the people was mediocre, even though Stannis was (for now) proving popular, given he - or rather, his Reachlords - had been providing the smallfolk with food and provisions since he won the throne. Anyone was better than the Lannisters, to the starving city. Yet whilst Shireen was a sweet girl, she was not a pretty one; people saw the greyscale scars and little else. And Selyse couldn't have been more different from Cersei if she tried. The woman was plain-faced, thin, with a small moustache and large ears. She was also humourless and snobbish, eyeing the sailor that helped her disembark the ship with distaste, and gathering her daughter closer to her upon looking at the people of the city.

There was a feast that night, to welcome the Queen's arrival and to celebrate their new alliance with the Tyrells, who had appeared about a week or so after the Blackwater claiming they intended to fight against the Lannisters all along but got delayed. Only after a great deal of persuasion on the part of Loreon and the other lords did Stannis grudgingly accept the Tyrells oaths of fealty without executing Lord Mace for his past transgressions.

It was clear in court that the Tyrells were not in favour, and not at all happy about it. Loreon wondered exactly what they had expected; to be welcomed with open arms? They were seated almost insulting far down the high table. They should be grateful they made it even that far. Stannis had prioritised his allies, and minor lords of the Reach and Stormlands sat closer to the centre of the table, with Lady Rosennis sat beside Queen Selyse herself, though neither of them looked particularly pleased with this arrangement.

Loreon sat on Rosennis' other side. Cersei's comparison was accurate in the sense that they were both dark-haired, tall and thin. Where the former was reserved and could be rather cutting, Selyse had a meanness to her, a certain brittle frailty, her face pinched and pallid. Her mindless devotion to Melisandre and the Red God was something Lady Bolton - the least easily led person Loreon had ever met - scorned. Rosennis had a quiet confidence that Selyse did not. As though she had lived through the worst already and nothing else could compare, which gave her a presence in any room. And on a more shallow note - not to eye up his friend's mother - Rosennis' angular face, whether the observer thought her beautiful or not, made her look striking, whilst Selyse was simply plain.

Differences aside, neither women were excellent conversationalists, making the feast stiff and uncomfortable. Loreon tried to inspire some talk.

"The Princess seems to have made friends with Lady Bolton, your Grace,"

Morganna was grinning as she spun a laughing Shireen around amongst the dancing lords and ladies. They made an odd pair to dance together, the beautiful girl who looked much older than her twelve years, with the sad, ugly child of ten, but he had never seen Shireen smile so wide.

His words did not have the intended effect.

"Can you not control your daughter?" Queen Selyse looked at Rosennis with some disdain. "Shireen has never acted so inappropriately before,"

"What are they doing that is inappropriate?" Lady Bolton raised an eyebrow.

She wasn't openly hostile, but Loreon recognised that tone. He cursed himself for trying to start a conversation between the two.

"Can you not see them dancing like common village brats?" The Queen sniffed.

Loreon doubted smallfolk children knew the graceful court dance Morganna was skilfully leading Shireen through. Perhaps it was the girls' laughter that was the problem.

She continued. "Shireen is a Princess, and must act accordingly. I don't want your daughter leading her astray,"

That wasn't an entirely unreasonable concern, but Loreon knew Morganna. Selyse did not.

Rosennis' eyes narrowed. "And how could she do that by dancing at a royal feast, your Grace?"

The Queen scowled. "I can tell when a girl is trouble," She said. "I don't like the look in your daughter's eyes,"

"You've been spending too much time staring into fires with your red fortune teller," Lady Bolton said.

Melisandre was not present at this feast; she had been invited, against Loreon's advice, but seemed to be making herself scarce recently and had declined. He wasn't sure of her reasons for that, but was hardly going to complain.

Rosennis was not done. "If she has led you to believe that you can tell a person's character from a glance into their eyes, you are being played for a fool,"

Loreon bit back a smirk, taking a gulp of wine to hide his amusement. Selyse had a moment of wide-eyed outrage, then scowled, drawing herself up like she no doubt imagined a dignified Queen would. Rosennis' back was already straight.

"Melisandre is a priestess of the great god R'hllor," The Queen said stiffly. "Not a common fortune teller. Though I would hardly expect a woman who follows the crude and savage wildling gods to understand the difference,"

"I've never heard of the Old Gods demanding men to be burnt alive," Rosennis said. "And I believe we were talking about my daughter. She is highborn on both sides, the blood of Kings running through her veins. Is she not a suitable companion for the Princess?"

Selyse looked momentarily caught-off-guard that she wasn't backing down. "You also have the blood of Kings in your veins, Lady Bolton," The Queen tried to gather herself with an air of haughty dignity. "That does not equate to morality. Your daughter is trouble, though I suppose she only learned from her mother,"

Oh, seven hells... Loreon wished he'd never opened his mouth. How had Selyse managed to turn an innocuous comment turned into this mess?

Lady Bolton did not say a word for a long time, enough to make the Queen shift uncomfortably, and break the silence herself.

"Don't act like you don't know I'm talking about your son,"

"Which son?" Rosennis finally spoke. "I have two of those, your Grace. Given the kingdoms are in dire need of an heir, perhaps you should try more than once a year to achieve the same,"

With that, she promptly turned to talk to Loreon, who as a result bore the brunt of Selyse's furious scowl. Though perhaps that was because he had choked on his drink at the woman's final words to the Queen, and was currently trying to pass off his laughter as a coughing fit. He doubted it was very convincing. Lady Bolton's lips twitching as she looked his way didn't do anything to help either.

"A dance, my lady?" He asked his friend's mother, doing his best to keep his voice level.

The fact she agreed was a mark of how much grief she knew she'd caused herself in for talking to the Queen in such a way. Rosennis accepted his offered arm and followed him to the dance floor, both of them still biting back a smile.

"I berated my daughter earlier, for drawing unnecessary attention to herself when she was a hostage," She said as they paired up and began to move in time with the other dancing partners, though didn't seem to regret it much. "It doesn't pay to anger Kings and Queens without good reason, but it seems I'm hardly much better than a foolish girl of twelve. The older I get, the less patience I have,"

Her hair - mostly loose, as usual - was long enough that it brushed his hand on her waist. She wasn't the most graceful dancer, but rarely put a step out of place.

"Our dear Queen had it coming," Loreon shrugged as he spun her around according to the dance. "No doubt she'll complain to Stannis, but I doubt he'd do more than make sure you weren't sat next to her at a feast again. He can't stand her any more than we can,"

Lady Rosennis laughed then. It was only a short laugh, but it was genuine, and lit up her long, sharp face, her grey eyes glinting in the candlelight. And suddenly the rumours Jaime Lannister fathered her bastard didn't seem so outlandish.

The rumour he heard the next morning in the training yard were another matter, however.

"Are you still drunk?" He asked Declan - a knight from Storm's End, one of his favourite sparring partners - in response to his ridiculous question.

"Maybe," The young man grinned. "Doesn't mean I didn't see the two of you dancing together, whispering all sorts of things. That woman doesn't dance with anyone, nor does she laugh, but you got her to do both,"

"Lady Bolton agreed to dance to get away from Queen Selyse insulting her morals," Loreon shook his head. "She was laughing at the expense of said Queen,"

Besides, the woman scolded him like his own mother never had. Even the thought of what his friend was implying was just plain wrong.

"If you say so," The knight shrugged, looking disappointed that the truth was less exciting than the gossip. "I thought you might've done it to get back at Renan Snow,"

"You thought I'd lay with my friend's mother as revenge against him for kidnapping my own?" After all the wine he'd drunk last night, Loreon had no witty reply to that, simply shook his head in disbelief, raising his sword. "It's too early to deal with horseshit like this, just get on and fight,"

He hoped against hope that it was only simple-minded gossips like Declan even entertaining the idea of that particular rumour, and that Lady Bolton hadn't heard it. She'd survive if she did - her skin was thicker than that - but it wasn't exactly the kind of thing anyone wanted to hear. Gods, I hope she doesn't think I started it...

Her invitation to him to meet in the Godswood that evening didn't help matters, but given she tended to only request his company when she had something important, Loreon didn't turn it down.

"I meant what I said last night to the Queen," She said to him as they walked through the trees; her guards were stationed at the entrance, too far to hear. "The largest problem with Stannis as King is not only that his Queen is a sour-faced harridan, but his only heir is a disfigured ten year old girl. The kingdoms are unstable enough as it is, let alone if Shireen ever becomes Queen,"

That was harsh, but not entirely unfair. Loreon had been hearing whispers of the same thing everywhere ever since they'd won the city.

"My uncle's advisors have long given up trying to get him to share his wife's bed more than once a year," He said. "There's only so many decades anyone can take of being ignored, before they give up. Though I can't say I blame him,"

The woman smirked at that, face pale in the moonlight. Though Loreon had to gather his cloak more tightly around himself against the cold night air, her own billowed behind her, caught in the wind with her hair as they entered the Godswood. She always seemed unbothered by the cold. Ren was the same.

"Doesn't being King put a little more pressure on the matter?"

"Not for him," He said. "I could raise the subject, but he'd only say something along the lines of 'people should follow Shireen because she would be their rightful Queen and it's their Gods-given duty',"

"I thought his Grace was an intelligent man?" Her dark eyebrow raised.

Loreon chuckled. "He is, for the most part. He just has... unrealistic expectations,"

"Hm," There was a pause. "Selyse is hardly the most... inviting of women. Perhaps the King would have more luck conceiving a son on another,"

"As if Stannis would break his marriage vows, let alone sire a bastard," The thought was laughable.

"I should have been more clear," Rosennis said, looking him in the eye. "Another wife,"

Loreon finally saw what she was trying to say. When he spoke, his tone was carefully light. "And who might that be, my lady?"

"Margaery Tyrell,"

He thought that might be the case. The Tyrells were slippery social climbers, but also very rich, in gold, soldiers and most importantly, food and provisions. Given how Stannis had treated them so far - fairly, but not diplomatically - they needed to give them an incentive to stick with their cause. A daughter as Queen was what it had taken to win the Tyrell's unwavering loyalty to Renly; there was nothing to say it wouldn't for Stannis. Who really did need a male heir, which he was not going to get from Selyse Florent. Knowing his uncle, he may not even be interested in a beautiful young bride, but Loreon imagined that if Lady Margaery's husband didn't come to her bed, she would go to his. Most likely at her grandmother's instruction.

There was one rather glaring issue with that plan, however.

"What of Lady Selyse?"

The question hung heavy in the air. Both knew the answer to that, but neither wanted to say it aloud.

"There's plenty of steep staircases in the castle," Rosennis said with a grimace, despite her dislike for the woman. "Or perhaps the girth on her saddle wasn't checked, and breaks,"

"Yes, it would have to be a tragic accident,"

"Obviously," She shot him an irritated look. "Or else I'd go with the much easier option of sending a man in Stark colours to shoot her with a crossbow,"

He laughed despite himself, though quickly sobered. "Do we need to act so drastically, so fast?"

The answer was clear, however. Already the lords were whispering at the lack of a male heir, at the unlikeliness of ever getting one. The Tyrells were dissatisfied with their lot here, and no doubt were engaging in all kinds of plotting and scheming. In all honesty, if they didn't pick Selyse off themselves, Lady Olenna would likely arrange a tragic accident of her own. And Stannis would not stay popular for much longer; neither he or Selyse were the types to inspire adoration amongst the people. A King like that needed a Queen to balance him out, someone charming, beloved and beautiful.

"If you're unsure, this isn't going to work," Rosennis said. "And I'll never speak of it again. But sacrifices must be made, for a stable realm,"

He was silent for a moment, but had already made up his mind.

"It's not the greatest sacrifice, though, is it?" His lips twitched, and she smiled faintly. "Leave it with me, my lady. I know the city better than you, I know how to arrange something. And if we're caught, the last thing either of us want is war with the North after Stannis executes you. Safer if you're not involved,"

"Fine," She nodded, though didn't look too pleased by that. "I doubt my conscience will be plagued too much. Last night, Lady Dacey overheard Selyse speculating to a group of ladies that I'm lacking in morals enough to sleep with anyone I dance with,"

The look on her face made it quite clear she had heard the same things he had.

"Of course she started that rumour," Loreon rolled his eyes. "I'd take it as a compliment, my lady. She was obviously referring to your beauty being youthful enough to attract a handsome man half your age,"

"Half my age?" She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He hadn't expected anything less. "You're near nineteen. I'm three-and-thirty. You might be able to charm even Stannis Baratheon, but clearly no one taught you how to count,"

He laughed. "Can I ask - ?" Loreon hesitated slightly.

"What?" Her tone was wary.

"Is Jaime Ren's father?" Seeing the look on her face he quickly pressed on. "Only so I can tell people we're certainly not sleeping together because you're as good as my aunt,"

"You won't be telling anyone anything of the sort," She snapped, though he saw the amused look in her eye. "Aunt? For the Lannisters, even being blood relatives counts for nothing. Even in a less dysfunctional family, I'd only be your aunt if I married him,"

"Would you?" He grinned at her stony expression. "I only ask because you didn't answer my question,"

"You wouldn't ask if you didn't know already,"

"Clearly I would,"

"If I said yes, would that shut you up?" She scowled as they neared the guards at the entrance to the Godswood, more comfortable talking about assassinating the Queen than the father of her eldest son.

"To which question?"

They had reached the guards now, not that the men would know what they were talking about.

"Both,"

Before Loreon could get another word in, she had hurried away, her men following behind her.

*

It took some careful planning, but three weeks later, the court was plunged into mourning, for a few days at least. Queen Selyse had fallen down a steep staircase one night, having told her guards she intended to go for a midnight walk of the battlements, instructing them to stay within sight but a considerable way behind her; she wished to be alone. It being dark, they hadn't had the most clear view of her, but had rushed forward when they heard a shriek. It was too late, however. The Queen was lying at the bottom of the stairs in the courtyard, her neck broken, dead already.

It was indeed put down as a tragic accident. Selyse was in an unfamiliar castle, and it had been dark. A fall wasn't an unreasonable explanation. They had multiple guards backing them up, claiming not to have seen anything suspicious, and a maid who helpfully said that the Queen often went for walks when she couldn't sleep. And quite honestly, not many cared enough to look too closely.

Loreon paid his man handsomely for a discreet job very well done.

Shireen was distraught, of course, but Stannis seemed more irritated than saddened by his wife's death. Those two had never had much patience for each other, but putting up with Selyse seemed less of a bother than finding a new wife. The King was inundated with marriage proposals, potential brides thrown at him from every direction. Loreon found it highly amusing, watching Stannis grind his teeth and walk past groups of ladies, barking at them to get out of his way and determinedly not looking at any of their fluttering eyelashes or low-cut gowns.

Of course, the challenge then was getting his uncle to agree to a Tyrell match. Baratheons held a grudge better than anyone - look at Robert and Rhaegar. Stannis was among the best of them, still loathing Mace Tyrell for feasting under their walls whilst the castle starved during the siege of Storm's End, and for his more recent transgression of being very late to join his cause.

Loreon wasn't going to back down, however, and to his relief, most of the lords (those who didn't have eligible daughters of their own, at least) were on his side. It took a great deal of effort but in the end, though prideful, and stubborn beyond belief, Stannis was not stupid, and could not deny that they couldn't risk any chance of the Tyrells go over to the Lannisters. Especially since there was still no word of the whereabouts of Joffrey, Tommen and Cersei.

The word was sent out, to the delight of Mace Tyrell. Lady Margaery rode into the city to cheers and whistles, all of praise, no doubt helped by the fact her father brought even more food from the Reach for the smallfolk. Never mind that he was the one blocking the road in the first place. She looked a true Queen already, smiling and waving, beautiful and gracious, accepting posies of flowers from barefoot children, clasping the hand of an old woman reaching up to her, never breaking character even for a moment.

The wedding was quickly arranged - perhaps too quickly, some muttered, given Queen Selyse was barely dead two moons - but was magnificent nonetheless. The bride looked radiant, of course, the picture of a perfect lady as her younger cousins tossed silver stags into the crowds of adoring smallfolk on the way to the Great Sept. The King did not; he ground his teeth and glowered at his soon-to-be goodfather the entire time. Stannis said the wedding vows in a monotone, looking like a man at a funeral instead of his wedding day, but he said them nonetheless and that was all that mattered. Loreon could breath a bit easier now Margaery was cloaked in Baratheon gold, for the second time now.

To her credit, the new Queen managed to look nothing less than thoroughly pleased the entire time. As though she wasn't being married to a humourless, stern husband over twice her age, who would never show her any kind of affection and expect unwavering dedication to duty. Loreon supposed that man was the King, so it was hardly the worst day of her life.

The ceremony went by without a hitch, the ride back to the castle too. And the feast was going perfectly - at least until Stannis began to cough halfway through the main course. Loreon barely thought anything of it at first, until the King didn't stop coughing after downing half his drink, and hitting himself in the chest.

"Are you alright, your Grace?" He frowned, then jumped to his feet when Stannis' only response was to clutch at his throat. "He's choking!"

Loreon made it down the table in a few strides, pounding his uncle on the back as the King gasped and coughed. By the time Stannis staggered to his feet, the Kingsguard had finally stepped into action and were hovering around uncertainly, but the King was fast turning blue, dropping to his knees.

"Father!" Little Shireen cried, running to his side as cries of alarm and surprise echoed from everywhere in the room.

Loreon joined her on the floor, though his attention was on the King.

"Punch him in the chest," Someone called, that voice for some reason standing out against the background roar.

He did, several times, for all the good it did. The whole hall was focused on them now, and gasped as the King bit the end of his finger, hard enough to draw a considerable amount of blood. Loreon was about to snatch his hand away from his face, but he was already moving it away, scrabbling at the floor with clawing hands as his face turned a more and more vivid shade of blue.

Stannis Baratheon died with his head on the knees of his bastard nephew, as his young daughter - suddenly made an orphan in the space of two months - wept on his chest. His beautiful young bride was distraught, as her father blustered and her grandmother went a deathly pale shade, comforting Margaery, silent for once in her life. The hall was in uproar, the court in chaos, people rushing everywhere, shouting over each other.

Beside the corpse, written in blood by Stannis' dying hands were the scrawled, crude letters.

POIZC

"Poison," Rosennis Bolton appeared at his side like a grim shadow, a hand on his shoulder where he knelt. The look on her face she understood fully what was just starting to hit him now. There was no other way of putting it; they were well and truly fucked. "Get up and pull yourself together," Though the woman's tone was resolute as ever, it lacked its usual bite, and had even a hint of... concern. "Lead them, restore order, before the Tyrells swoop in,"

He nodded blindly, getting to his feet and trying to ignore the ringing in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lady Rosennis dragging a weeping Shireen to her feet by the elbow, Dacey Mormont appearing at her side to help her half-carry the distraught child - the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, seven hells - out of the hall, whilst everyone's attention was focused on the King's corpse.

Olenna Tyrell was muttering furiously in her granddaughter's ear. He caught a flash of red hair disappearing from one of the side doors; Sansa must have seen enough death in her time here to not wish to see any more. Brienne was stood with Morganna, a protective hand on the girl's shoulder.

Loreon took a deep breath.

*

Edited November 2024

Drama, drama and more drama. Big changes too. I can't imagine everyone will be happy with some of the choices I made in this chapter, but trust me when I say Stannis' death serves a purpose in the story other than shock-value. I truly tried to write the plot without killing him off but couldn't get things to fit together that way. It might not be clear right now, but it was necessary for our new king to die in the same chapter he finally gets the throne.

One small thing most people will probably have missed but I'm sure there'll be someone in the comments to point in out; I appreciate that the timeline of Littlefinger going to the Vale has significantly sped up. My explanation for that is he knew Stannis didn't like him, so sped up his plans and manipulated the Lannisters into getting what he wants. If that's not enough of an explanation, I'm sure that small detail can be overlooked given it's necessary to the plot to have him in the Vale.

Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting!