Lady Rosennis arrived at the council with four of her guards in tow, along with all five of her highborn companions; Perwyn Frey, Lucas Blackwood, Wendel Manderly, Robin Flint and Dacey Mormont, once more dressed as a lady, but now with her sword at her hip. Brienne of Tarth was not with her, and for that he was grateful. He doubted that some of the men here would be able to refrain from ordering her death on the spot, which would hardly be a good start to their talks.

Loreon watched his friend's mother glance critically along his table at each of the lords and knights he had managed to gather. He let her. There was nothing to be ashamed of with the company he had assembled, salvaged from the splintering of Renly's army. Every single Stormlands lord was there. And there were more than a few from the Reach, more prominent houses than he'd expected. Mullendore, Peake and Varner, Fossoway, Crane, Rowan and Tarly. Just over half of Mace Tyrell's army; significantly better than he'd been expecting. For that, he could only thank the ingrained snobbishness that fuelled their resentment towards the Tyrells, who were considered upjumped stewards even after three hundred years.

He couldn't allow himself to get too excited, though. I haven't won them yet. They're only here to hear me out, they'll run back to the Tyrells at the first sign of doubt or weakness.

"I invited Lady Bolton and her companions to join us tonight, once more as representatives of the North and Riverlands," Loreon started. No objection from the Stormlords, and most of the Reachmen seemed tense about the whole idea of remaining here in the first place, whilst their liege-lords scurried off back to Highgarden. "My ladies, sers, feel free to take a seat. Your guardsmen can stand with the others,"

Rosennis sat wordlessly, and the rest followed her example, the Mormont woman at her right hand, fat Wendel Manderly at her left, the other three taking their own places at the offered seats.

"To clear the air," Loreon began. "You were in the tent when Renly died. Would you care to explain to us all exactly what happened in the minutes before his death?"

They needed to get this glaring obstacle out the way first. And he would quite like answers to that himself. Gods, he hoped she hadn't done it. Or at least had a very good lie to cover it, so he could pretend she was innocent. He could hardly be seen to ally with his uncle's murderers, but they did need the North. Not to mention he didn't particularly wish to face Ren after executing his mother.

The woman stared at him for a moment, grey eyes dark. "There are men here who believe that I murdered your King, or ordered his death," Cutting straight to the point as ever, her voice was not overly loud, but they all listened regardless. "Needless to say, I did not. As I'm sure Ser Robar can attest to, Renly's gorget was cut clean through. Do I look like I could achieve a feat like that? Or my companions? Only Lady Dacey and Ser Perwyn were with me at the time, along with my man-at-arms, Derick,"

She gestured at a small and unassuming man stood by the door. Of the four of them, Dacey Mormont looked the strongest, but there was no chance that any of them would be able to cut through something that thick.

"The Tarth girl was there too," Ground out Tarly. "She has no place running about in mail and plate, but she is freakish strong,"

"Not that strong, my lord," Rowan said fairly. "I saw the gorget, and even a big man would struggle to do the job. It would be impossible to do so that cleanly,"

"Then how did this supposed assassin do it?" Lord Florent scoffed. "Was he the size of the Gregor Clegane? In which case, how did we miss him?"

"I saw the blade," Perwyn Frey spoke up. "It parted good steel like cheesecloth,"

"Was the blade dark in colour?" Loreon asked. Frey nodded. "Valyrian steel, then. What else could give such a clean cut?" A murmur of agreement went around the table, but then he frowned carefully. "Though we'd have heard if Stannis had a Valyrian steel sword, surely,"

Or perhaps not. But - much like hoping that if Lady Rosennis was guilty she had a good lie to cover herself - he had come to the conclusion that even if Stannis was responsible, it would be better for everyone if they simply joined forces. Distasteful though that might be, many of the others seemed to share the same opinion but were unwilling to say it aloud.

"We do not know that the assassin was from Stannis," Lord Buckler, a Stormlord, pointed out tentatively. "Unless Lady Rosennis can say otherwise?"

"He wore a visor, no livery, did not speak at all, and was gone as quickly as he arrived," The woman said. "Like a shadow. It easily could have been the Lannisters who sent him,"

"Or the North," Tarly rounded on her; he, Alester Florent and Mathis Rowan seemed to be speaking on behalf of the Reach houses that had joined them. "The Lannisters lack a Valyrian steel sword - I've lost count of the number of times Lord Tywin has offered me obscene amounts of gold for Heartsbane - though House Stark has such a blade, does it not?"

"Yes," Rosennis stared at him, impatience in her eyes. "But the sword Ice was confiscated in King's Landing after my brother's arrest. It was used to cut off his head. Hence, my lord, why I am suggesting the Lannisters,"

An uncomfortable silence.

"I've seen Ice. The blade is huge. It was no greatsword that killed Renly," Loreon pointed out. He couldn't obviously try to influence either side overmuch, and was coming to realise that Lady Bolton had an answer to anything he put to her.

"Then they melted it down and reforged it," She shrugged. "Two Valyrian steel swords are better than one, in Tywin Lannister's mind. My point is, we do not know who sent the killer,"

"You're very quick to decide that, my lady," Florent said. "I'm still not entirely convinced that one of your men did not do it, on Robb Stark's order. You have made it perfectly clear that you care not who sits the Iron Throne, so long as Joffrey is displaced, and the warring Baratheon brothers made that goal more unlikely. With Stannis out of reach, that left Renly your easiest option to murder,"

He sounded rather pleased with himself for reaching that conclusion - which in all honesty, could be accurate, aside from the issue with the Valyrian blade - but the look the woman gave him was withering.

"If I was planning on killing a King, then I would not wait until his gorget was fastened," She spoke as though to talking to a simpleton, and there were more than a few badly-hidden smirks around the table. "Particularly when he had yet to do up his breastplate. If I wanted Renly dead, I would have stabbed him in the ribs with a dagger, screamed for help and blamed it on Lady Brienne. You'd have all believed me. Better still, I would not be anywhere near his tent at the time,"

There was an uncomfortable silence at how much thought she had put into that. Florent backed down, and Rosennis' lip curled slightly. Loreon supposed her argument made sense. It convinced him, at any rate. He didn't put the deed past her, not at all, but did believe that she would have done a better job of it than what happened, not allowing herself to be implicated.

"My uncle is dead," He took control once more, breaking the silence. "And we cannot know for sure who killed him. However distasteful it may be, perhaps we will end up fighting on the side of his murderer. But truly, who would you rather follow into battle? The spoilt Lannister bastard born of incest, who beheaded a Lord Paramount in a crude public show, or Stannis? A man grown, whose grit and capability as a battle commander is well regarded, as well as his dedication and sense of duty," And who is the rightful King in the first place.

"If it were that simple, then Stannis," Rowan sighed. "But sadly it is not. Lord Stannis does not take well to turncloaks, and is famously immovable. He despises the Tyrells for laying siege to Storm's End, but Mace was not alone. I was there, along with many others, and I can't see him forgiving that easily,"

"And that's not to mention how the rest of the kingdoms will take him," Florent said. "He hardly made himself popular with that talk of outlawing brothels,"

There were a few snorts at that.

"He cannot afford to punish those joining his cause, even if they sided with his brother first," Loreon said. "Yes, I'll admit my uncle is hardly the most charming of men," Several chuckles. "But that's what I'm for. You've known me for months, now. I can make Stannis seem at least palatable to the Seven Kingdoms. There will be no more talk of banning brothels, Lord Florent, if that is what concerns you,"

More laughter, and Loreon was careful to grin at the man to make it known it was not an insult.

"And bear in mind," He continued. "We will not be alone in siding with him. My lady?" He glanced at Rosennis.

"The North will never declare for Joffrey," Her tone was set. "We will back Stannis, as will our allies, the Riverlands,"

Frey and Blackwood nodded in agreement.

"What of Dorne?" Tarly asked, still not quite convinced. "I can hardly see them stirring themselves to help the usurper's brother win the throne,"

"Well they won't side with the Lannisters," Loreon pointed out. "Not after Elia Martell. The Red Viper would sooner fall on his own spear. At worst, they remain neutral, like the Arryns. At best, they join us,"

"The odds are not unfavourable," Florent said. "The Westerlands, Crownlands and half the Reach against the Stormlands, North, Riverlands and the rest of the Reach,"

"They're not quite favourable, either," Tarly pointed out.

"That's fair," Loreon agreed. "But we have more than a chance,"

"Says the half-Lannister bastard, who for some reason we are all listening to like he has any land to his name, and more experience than the green boy he is," Tarly scoffed.

"By all means my lord, if you are not willing to ally with a bastard, go and rejoin the Tyrells and their new friends the Lannisters," Loreon's eyes narrowed at the open challenge and sat up straighter. "No one's stopping you. You'll be taking orders from a bastard then, bowing and scraping and calling him 'Your Grace',"

"I've never scraped in my life, boy," The man sneered.

Loreon ignored his words. "I don't know why you listened to me, Lord Tarly, but you chose to not flee back to Highgarden with Mace Tyrell," He leaned forward. "I might be green - much like the majority of your knights, and more than a handful of the lords - but I also know Stannis Baratheon better than all of you combined. You don't want King Stannis to loathe you forever for being late to join his cause? Then you follow my advice and get in his favour. I know Tywin Lannister, Cersei and Joffrey too,"

"That raises another issue," Tarly was not done. "You were raised by the Lannisters, yet seem to have no trouble fighting against them now,"

"Tywin Lannister looks at me with nothing but disdain, proof that someone defiled his favourite daughter before she was married," He said flatly. "I had to flee the Red Keep to avoid Cersei sending men to kill me, like she did to the rest of Robert's bastards. And as for Joffrey, you've never met the boy. Anyone who has will understand completely why I want him off the Iron Throne,"

"The boy is a monster," Rosennis Stark spoke up. "And a fool. I wouldn't trust Joffrey to pour water out of a boot if instructions were written on the heel - "

A few laughs from the assembled men, though Loreon knew she was entirely serious.

" - yet someone has put a crown on his head and given him Seven Kingdoms,"

"That'll be the incest," Lord Buckler nodded knowledgeably. "It made the Targaryens mad, and the Lannisters are clearly no exception,"

"Speaking of Lannisters," Tarly spoke up again, narrowing his eyes at Rosennis. "What say you, my lady, to these rumours that the Kingslayer fathered your bastard son?"

Lady Bolton held his stare, unblinking. Loreon had wondered the same thing himself, of course, given the amount of time he spent with both Ren and Jaime - not to mention how comfortable the two of them seemed around each other, given the way she was with most other men - but could not say for certain. That Lady Rosennis had a bastard in the first place would have drastically lowered Tarly's opinion of her already. Not to mention, she was a woman who dared to sit on a war council and speak. Loreon was eagerly anticipating her cutting reply to Tarly's crude implication.

But then, to his surprise, she laughed.

It was such an unexpected thing, that many of the others laughed too. None of them had heard the woman laugh before; they'd barely seen her smile, away from her Northern companions.

"How do you imagine such a situation occurring, my lord?" She asked, wryly amused. "Do you believe Jaime Lannister was besotted with my charm, irresistible beauty and warm, gentle nature?" She shook her head, sarcastic, and more people laughed. "Or perhaps you believe I fell for the kind, humble young Kingsguard knight, who values honour and doesn't bed with his sister? Your daughters must beg to hear your wonderful tales of romance and courtship before they go to sleep, Lord Tarly,"

More laughter still. Tarly looked mutinous, but she had finally done what Loreon had been struggling to do all evening, and shut the man up. Aside for some more grumbling, they heard very little from him for the rest of the talks. Though no doubt she had made an enemy there.

"That was well done," Lady Bolton was the last to leave the tent at the end of the meeting, well into the night. "You responded well to Tarly's challenge - I know you prefer to be everyone's friend, but being a pushover is worse,"

"Now Renly's dead, I don't have to be as humble. There's no one left to overshadow here," He flashed a small smile, not relishing in benefitting from the man's death.

Loreon had not had time for it to sink in, in truth, let alone even think about grieving. It had been the same when his father died, not so long ago. He had liked Renly a lot, despite believing his decision to claim the throne to be absolute stupidity. He was not the favourite of all his uncles - that would be Tyrion, or Jaime - but he would miss him.

Seeing her knowing look, he gathered himself. "Though I must congratulate you, my lady, on how you embarrassed Lord Tarly,"

"He had it coming," She smiled faintly. "He called you a bastard, and all but called me a whore,"

"The Kingslayer's Whore, no less,"

"Yes, I've heard that charming name come up in the numerous things people whisper behind their hands about me," She said dryly. "I'm not sure if I prefer that to the old one, the Whore of Winterfell. You'd think they would be more original, after sixteen years,"

"It's odd, isn't it," Loreon said, grinning. "I thought you had to be paid to be a whore, which they're not exactly suggesting Jaime did,"

She actually rolled her eyes at that, amused. The juvenile gesture looked odd coming from her, and Loreon's grin widened.

"Do you talk to your own mother like that?"

"Yes," He said honestly. Giana had always been more like a fun aunt or elder sister than a mother. His great-aunts on the other hand - Dorna, Darlessa and especially Genna - would slap him around the head for saying such things.

"That doesn't surprise me," She sighed, glancing over the camp from the good view they had. "No one else is packing up to leave after that meeting. I suppose that's a success," Her lips twitched. "Even if Lord Tarly isn't particularly happy with either of us,"

"I'm taking that as a success," Loreon shrugged.

*

"Storm," Stannis' jaw was clenched already as they approached him on the field.

Loreon tried not to take that as a bad sign. You know that I didn't betray you, don't punish me for pretending. He was already exasperated at his uncle, and they hadn't even exchanged two words yet. Only the fact that Cersei existed stopped Stannis from being his least favourite of his parents' siblings. And that was a low bar to clear.

"Your Grace," He said carefully, then knelt at the man's feet, Storm's End looming in the background.

Behind him, all the lords and knights who had followed did the same. He wanted no doubts, right from the start. They had made their decision, and now would stick with it.

A thick silence.

"Rise,"

Loreon rose, as did the rest of them. Stannis did not look as thrilled as you might expect a man who had more than quadrupled the size of his army in less than a day to look. In fact, he looked terrible, years older than when Loreon had last seen him, and though there was a grim sense of satisfaction in his eyes, there was also annoyance.

He resents not winning these troops through loyalty and strength alone. He resents that I brought them to him on a silver platter, rather than defeating them in battle.

"Though I expected you to do your duty to your rightful King from the start, I will not turn away swords now, if you mean to give me loyal service. Those who turned to the abomination Joffrey will be punished," A truly inspiring speech. He turned to Loreon, lowering his voice, distaste evident in his expression. "I trust the gates of Storm's End will open for me now,"

"I hope so," Loreon smiled faintly. "We'll have to ask Ser Cortnay. I imagine the only way he'll let us in is if you swear not to kill him for his loyalty in holding Renly's castle,"

Stannis' frown deepened. His uncle did not reply, but moved to look over each of the lords in turn, and the army behind them, eyes lingering on the Northern party. Loreon followed his stare and saw that Lady Rosennis was looking not at Stannis, but instead at Melisandre, eyes hard and suspicious. Gods, it was beyond him why his uncle had brought that woman to the mainland, over his own wife nonetheless. If people believed that he had abandoned the Faith of the Seven in favour of the foreign Red God, Westeros would never accept him as King.

Another problem to discuss later.

After Penrose himself rode out to meet them, acting coldly towards Stannis but much less so to Loreon, and the events of the past few days had been discussed - the assassin, Loreon had announced for diplomacy's sake, was sent by the Lannisters - Ser Cortnay, somewhat reluctantly, knelt. Likely that was due to the presence of some of Renly's most loyal bannermen being in their company; Rowan, Tarly, and Brienne of Tarth.

Brienne had been Lady Bolton's constant shadow, and had been glaring at Stannis since he entered their sight. The Northern woman was the only one stopping her from challenging the man openly. Loreon was glad that Rosennis had taken that one on herself; he liked Brienne despite her naivety, and had been furious to hear of that vile bet for her maidenhead, but she was hardly a diplomat, and he didn't want her causing any trouble.

The lords and knights of Renly and Stannis, now one and the same, rode into the castle through the immense walls, leaving the majority of the army to set up camp outside. There was the expected display of the garrison of Storm's End - old men and green boys, mostly - kneeling and swearing to Stannis, little Edric Storm too, then as the King took the high seat of the Baratheons, each individual lord came up to swear fealty officially. Stannis sat through it all stony-faced. Loreon stood at his left, making sure to smile at each one who knelt.

Melisandre was stood to his right, and though her presence was as serene and mysterious as ever, Loreon sensed that she was somewhat irritated. He spent some time trying to work out why, and was satisfied when he realised. They're swearing to Stannis alone, not the Red God.

He had strongly advised his uncle on Dragonstone to not get in too deep with the faith of R'hllor, given that it would make uniting the kingdoms that much harder; even Aegon the Conqueror had forgone his Valyrian gods for the Seven. Political warfare was quite enough to deal with without a religious war too. Loreon had not really considered that Stannis might actually listen to something he said, but was glad for it. Melisandre's influence seemed to be limited to Queen Selyse and several of her more fanatical knights and ladies. Yet the King had brought the red priestess here, so he could not discount her threat just yet.

Acting on Loreon's suggestion, Stannis had agreed to hold a feast that night. The King hadn't been particularly happy about the idea, but Ser Davos backed Loreon up; it was good for all these Reachlords to feel welcome in the castle many of them remembered sieging. And so the kitchens hastily prepared what food they could, musicians were found from somewhere, and casks of ale were delivered to the camps outside the walls. This decision was well-received by the lords and knights, all feasting around them, men who had been formerly enemies now laughing and joking together.

One of the young knights had grabbed a serving maid and taken her for a dance in the middle of the hall, and others had joined in. The shortage of ladies meant that near every serving maid was drafted in, and when they ran out, any women at all; from his place on the high table, Loreon saw what had to be some of the older women who worked in the kitchens or cleaned the bedchambers had been drafted in to dance as well, laughing merrily, and a group of squires had started dancing with each other, clearly finding the whole thing very funny indeed.

His seat at the King's table was high for a bastard, but he had all but given Stannis most of his army. Oh, he was sure that many of these lords would have flocked to him after Renly's death anyway with the lack of a better option, but without Loreon, his uncle would not have any from the Reach. Stannis would likely still be sat outside Storm's End, miserable in the rain that had started to fall as Penrose stubbornly held out against him.

And now, to the lords and to the people, King Stannis was finally starting to seem like a good option, a strong option, rather than simply the only one available.

Lady Rosennis was sat at the high table too, of course, her companions off ingratiating themselves with the people here. Dacey Mormont was dancing with as many men as possible, and was in high demand, being pretty, highborn and unwed. Ser Wendel was laughing with a group of knights, Lucas Blackwood was winning at dice and Robin Flint was busy getting drunk with a rowdier group. Yet the lady herself remained seated, quietly discussing something with Davos Seaworth, a forlorn-looking Brienne of Tarth by her side.

Loreon soon left the high table, making sure to speak with each of the men who had come over from Renly's side, taking subtle note of any concerns or unhappiness. He also reacquainted himself with Stannis' Narrow Sea lords, not discriminating against or showing favour to anyone. No one can oppose he who is everyone's friend.

At some point, he noticed his uncle leave the hall, Lady Rosennis accompanying him with Perwyn Frey slightly behind her. That was to be expected; the terms of the alliance with the North and Riverlands needed to be discussed, and neither of them were the types to waste valuable time. What he hadn't expected was that an hour or so later, Stannis' squire - Davos' fifth son, he remembered, Devan - approached him.

"His Grace would like to see you in the lord's solar,"

"Of course," Loreon nodded, making his excuses to those around him before following the boy, wondering what exactly his uncle had to discuss with him, now. He had been planning to speak with the man himself, of course, but likely nothing that Stannis would initiate himself.

Lady Rosennis was leaving the solar by the time he arrived, grim satisfaction burning in her eyes. She nodded at him as he past, saying nothing as she returned to the feast.

"Your Grace," Loreon gave a quick bow as he entered.

His uncle was sat behind the desk. "Sit," Stannis said. He sat. "I suppose you'll be wanting a reward for bringing me these men," He made it sound so outrageous.

"That would be good of you, uncle,"

"Yes, it would be," Stannis said dryly, seeing through the humbleness to the hidden sarcasm beneath. He had forgotten his uncle could do that, having become used to the lords of the Reach. "I won't offer you anything you desire, because I know you'll ask for my name. I cannot legitimise you without giving you a better claim to the throne than my own. You're Robert's eldest son, after all,"

That... sounded oddly promising. He might have been mistaken, but there was one other thing that Stannis had not denied him yet.

"I wouldn't ask such a thing," Loreon said. "Although... I could hold a seat using the name of Storm, surely, even if I'm never a Baratheon?" He dared to add, "It might even be fitting, depending on the castle,"

"You want Storm's End," His uncle gave him a flat look.

"Who else would you give it to?" Loreon dropped all pretences then; games did not work on this man. He sat forward in his chair, face deadly serious. "Your daughter is heir to the throne, and Dragonstone is hers by right. Renly is dead and childless. Cersei's children have not a drop of Baratheon blood in them. Robert sired a dozen bastards throughout the kingdom, but only two were born to highborn women, myself and young Edric,"

"And why should I not give the castle to Edric Storm?" Stannis asked. "The boy grew up here. His mother is a Florent, which would ease the concerns of my late-coming Reachlords. And by all reports, the boy is a diligent child, shows promise at arms, and most importantly, does whatever I tell him,"

"Do you want a puppet or a lord, your Grace?" Loreon asked. "Edric is my brother, and dear to me," There was an interesting flicker in Stannis' eyes at that. "Yet I am a man grown. I have proven myself strong, a skilled fighter, a capable diplomat and that I have the ability to lead men," He paused, continuing carefully. "And with all due respect, if it is ever found out that it was you that sent the assassin to kill Renly," He watched Stannis' jaw clench. "I am considerably less likely than Edric to withdraw my support and want you dead,"

His uncle was still silent. But this discussion had been on Loreon's mind for months; he had hours worth of arguments left in him yet.

"Rewarding me also shows that you forgive those who appear to have fought for your enemies. And that you still respect your brother Robert,"

"Stop," Stannis said abruptly. "I'm sure you have a wonderful speech prepared, but enough talk. You will never have the name Baratheon," Loreon's jaw set. "Your children will," He let out a breath. "You will be Lord of Storm's End, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, and you will serve me as your King until your dying day,"

There was a silence. I've won.

"My deepest thanks, your Grace - "

"Don't smile like that," Stannis frowned, which only made his grin widen. "You look too much like a Lannister,"

*

"My lord," The serving boy jogged up to Loreon where he was training in the yard.

He had been in the middle of a match against Brienne, who was fighting even harder than she had done at the tourney, clearly trying to prove she could beat him, or simply so angry about having to bend the knee to the man she believed to be Renly's killer. Either way, neither of them had won yet despite being out of breath, sweaty and aching. The young woman really was one of the best swords he'd faced.

My lord. He couldn't help but smile every time he heard himself addressed as such. Years of being ignored, shunned or outright scorned made it that much sweeter.

"What is it, Alyn?" He'd made sure to learn as many names as he could.

"Lady Bolton sent me, milord," The boy said. "She's received a letter, from her son,"

Loreon was already setting down his tourney sword and bidding a hasty goodbye to Brienne.

He knocked on Lady Rosennis' door, pushing it open at the call to enter. She was sat at the small table by the window, which was open despite the chilly wind blowing. Her room overlooked the sea, hundred of feet below. The sound of waves crashing on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff reached even up here. The woman's eyes were on the piece of parchment clasped in her hand.

"From Ren?" Without thinking he came and sat down across from her, only to receive a stern look, and switched on a charming smile. "Forgive me. Good morning, my lady. You look very well today. May I take a seat?"

Amusement glinted in her eyes. "The Lord of Storm's End should have better manners," She sat up straight. "But yes, it is from Ren. As nice as it is to hear that my son is still alive, I'm annoyed that he sent it at all. This letter could cost Stannis King's Landing, if it got into the wrong hands. I suppose he thought it worth the risk,"

Loreon raised an eyebrow, taking the letter as she handed it to him and scanning its contents. Then he laughed. And laughed again, seeing her genuine smile. She had downplayed it. The contents of this letter were absolute gold.

"Oh that's brilliant," He said. "Your nephew Robb is a genius, truly," This was good news. Very good news, that even Stannis would be pleased to hear. "If this strategy of his works, my beloved grandfather will be trapped in the Westerlands by your Northmen - "

"Leaving Stannis free to attack King's Landing without any fear of the Lannisters coming up from behind," Lady Rosennis smiled. "All you'll be facing is the city watch, and whatever Lannister men Cersei has with her,"

"There are still the Tyrells, we don't know yet if they've allied with the Lannisters," Loreon said slowly. "Including the men Stannis already had, our army and theirs are roughly the same size. Ours is slightly bigger, but theirs is enough to pose a problem if we get caught between them and the city walls. There's to be a war council tomorrow - no doubt that'll be discussed,"

"Alliances take time to form," Rosennis said. "The Tyrells would settle for nothing less than marrying Margaery to Joffrey," She paused. "How fast could Stannis get his army to King's Landing?"

"The foot soldiers and cavalry would have to travel up the Kingsroad, along with the baggage train," Loreon said. "And then there's the fleet at Dragonstone to organise. And that's only after we've settled matters like supplies, provisions, strategy," He paused. "Realistically... over a month, but less than two,"

She was silent for a moment.

"If you're already within the city walls by the time any Tyrell-Lannister marriage is finalised," She said slowly. "Their alliance would fall apart before it even begun. The Tyrells are out to be on the winning side,"

"But if we're not inside the city?" He sighed. "A siege takes time. They'll smash us against the walls whilst the defenders rain arrows and pitch down on our heads,"

"I know little of war, but I do believe sieges only take time when the city is well provisioned?" She arched an eyebrow. "Renly was sat on the Roseroad for months stopping food going into King's Landing. If you placed eyes in the city, I'm sure they would report it was starving. How starving do you think the people have to be before they open the city gates for us themselves?"

"That," Is cruel, cold, but... "Might work," He thought for a moment. "If we sent in a small force early, to block the city off from land and sea, ensuring no shipments get in... Then the main army turns up, with a baggage train loaded with extra provisions, promising the people of King's Landing food and grain fresh from the Reach, if only the young King will open the gates. When Joffrey refuses, that might be enough to incite riots,"

"It'll be a distraction, at least," Rosennis agreed. "And at best, the defenders have to deal with attackers from within their own walls as well as out,"

"And there we have it, my lady," Loreon grinned. "Our strategy to take King's Landing is underway already,"

She gave a short laugh. "Best hope that Robb's plan works, seeing as that strategy relies rather heavily on it,"

"Do you not trust your nephew?"

"Robb has proven himself far more capable than anyone could have expected, given he's only five-and-ten," She said. "But I can't stop myself waiting for him to do something rash and foolish, as boys of five-and-ten tend to do," She looked at him then, wryly amused. "Though you're barely eighteen, however much older you seem, so perhaps I should be more concerned about our own strategy,"

"Your brother led a rebellion at scarcely much older than I am, my lady," He pointed out. "I'm sure Lord Robb will be fine. He has older, more experienced men around him. Not to mention your own son,"

"I hear near as much about Ren as I do about Robb," Rosennis tutted.

"Lord Stark's shadow," Loreon chuckled.

"That's almost as good as Lord Baratheon," Her lips twitched. "I wasn't sure if I could summon you to me anymore, or if I should go to you, seeing as this is your castle. Then I realised I didn't particularly care, and you could drag yourself up here or just not hear the news,"

He laughed. "Good thing I'm not so proud, yet,"

*

Edited November 2024

A long long time since the last update. I have no really excuse aside from real life getting in the way. This chapter largely concludes the prelude to the Blackwater from Ross and Loreon's perspective. Coming up will be a look at Robb and Ren's campaign in the west, and Morganna in King's Landing. Just to let you know that some of the chapters are not in chronological order, and will be a great deal of overlap to come given how fast events move in each chapter; it was necessary to write it this way otherwise I would simply be rehashing what was said and done in the books. 

If you have any constructive criticism, I'm very happy to hear it. Do people mind the story being so OC heavy (though there's not much I can change about that) and what are some of your predictions for what's to come? 

I hope everyone's staying safe, and thanks again to all readers and those who review/comment.