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Chapter 9 - Chapter 9

MC's Pov

I stood frozen, Ned Stark's words crashing over me like a storm wave off Shipbreaker Bay.

Robert is dead? I knew that Robert was wounded in a duel with Rhaegal in the original story, but that shouldn't have killed him. Why did he die this time? The thought ground at me, a riddle I couldn't solve. I looked at the lords, Jon Arryn, Hoster Tully, Ned Stark, and the rest were watching me, waiting for my response. I straightened, my voice steady despite the storm in my chest. "Robert is dead?"

They shifted uneasily, their silence a heavy confirmation. Ned Stark had a mournful look on his face, but I felt no grief. Truth be told, I barely knew Robert, and his death, though a shock, brought no tears. If anything, it cleared a path, a chance to claim what should be mine in the future. I kept my face hard, hiding the cold calculation beneath.

Ned broke the silence, his voice low and intense.

"I grieve for your loss, Lord Stannis. Robert was a good man, a fine warrior, and a true friend. His passing wounds us all."

I met his gaze, seeing the mourning there, and nodded slowly.

"Aye, he was a fine warrior, truly. And I believe he would have been a good king." The words tasted like ash, lies to soothe them. Inside, I knew Robert's wildness would have ruined the throne, while my hand could hold it firm. But I'd never speak that truth to these men.

Jon Arryn stepped forward, his blue eyes showed sadness, his voice heavy with loss.

"Aye, he would have been a good king, and Westeros shall miss him sorely. To me, he was a son I never had." The pain in his eyes cut deep.

Hoster Tully spoke next, his tone rough but practical. His eyes met mine.

"Aye, Robert will be missed by all, but we must look to the morrow. The Seven Kingdoms need a king, and that must be you, Lord Stannis. You are Robert's heir, and the crown should fall to you."

My mind spun, though I kept my face a mask of surprise. Inside, I felt joy.

"Yes, yes, this spares me another war to seize the throne," I thought as I forced a hesitant tone. "Me, a king?"

Jon answered me, his voice firm yet gentle.

"Aye, Lord Stannis. After the rebellion, Robert was to take the throne, but sadly, he is no more, and we cannot return the Targaryens to power, they may seek vengeance against us. Also, I'm sure Robert would like that too."

I frowned inwardly. Would Robert have liked me to become king after his death? That could start a debate, but I held my tongue. Jon pressed on, glancing at Tywin Lannister, who stood silent and unreadable.

"After Robert's death, Me, Ned and lord tully decided, and now Lord Lannister agreed to." Tywin's green eyes met mine, cold and piercing, offering a slight nod. Jon continued. "You are the best choice for the throne. We've all heard of your wisdom and skills of ruling, which you showed in ruling the Stormlands in Robert's absence, and you also proved in the battle against the Tyrells that you are a good warrior and leader who can lead the army towards victory."

I inclined my head, hiding the satisfaction swelling in my chest.

"I thank you for such high regard. I agree, we cannot risk the Targaryens returning to the Iron Throne. It threatens all who rebelled." I scanned the lords and continued." I am willing to take the burden of kingship."

Jaime Lannister, standing by his father, smirked, his voice dripping with mockery. "So, we have a new king, then?"

My gaze snapped to him, his smug grin scraping my nerves, arrogance gleaming in those green eyes. I kept my tone steady.

"Speaking of kings, what of Aerys? What happened to him?" I asked as I looked body of the mad king. The question wiped the smile from his face, a small victory.

Ned Stark's voice cut through, laced with anger, his grey eyes hard as he glared at Jaime. "His own Kingsguard slew him traitorously, stabbed him in the back." The words hit like a hammer.

Tywin stepped in, his tone icy and defensive. "Lord Stark, have you forgotten Aerys slew your brother and father? He bore many sins, and his death was justly deserved."

Ned stood firm, his voice unyielding. "That does not excuse your son's deed. He swore an oath, and he should not have broken it. He should be sent to the Wall."

My mind raced as I was thinking. Strange, why hadn't Jaime spoken of Aerys's wildfire plot? Aerys had planned to burn the city, and Jaime's act had saved thousands. I glanced at Jaime, catching a flicker of shame in his eyes, and decided to intervene.

"True," I said, drawing their attention. "Ser Jaime broke his oath, a serious crime. But perhaps we should hear his reason. There might be something we don't know." I met Jaime's surprised stare.

"Go on, fool, speak the truth." I thought.

After a moment's hesitation, Jaime spoke, his voice low.

"Aerys meant to burn the city with wildfire. He ordered the alchemist Rossart to ignite the caches beneath King's Landing. I slew the alchemist, then Aerys himself."

A stunned silence fell over the hall. Hoster Tully broke it with a curse. "Seven hells, he was truly mad."

Tywin Lannister turned to Ned, who was standing speechless. "It seems my son acted rightly. Were it not for him, the city would be ash."

Before Ned could respond, I spoke again, my tone firm. "Ser Jamie indeed broke his oath, but he saved hundreds of thousands of people. This act is truly respectable, so he will not be punished. On the contrary, I think that this act should become an example for the future kingsguards." I glanced at Ned, who nodded.

Jaime bowed towards me, "Thank you, Your Grace."

Grace? My lip twitched in a faint smile. Not a bad title, easy to get used to. I thought and then said to him, "I'm not yet crowned, Ser Jaime. 'Lord Stannis' will do for now."

He nodded.

I turned to the group. "Well, since that matter is settled, let us turn to others. Elia Martell and her children are in Maegor's Holdfast." As I mentioned, Elia and her children, I glanced at Tywin, seeking a reaction, but his face stayed stone, and he continued talking. "Their fate must be decided. Also, Queen Rhaella, pregnant, and Prince Viserys are on Dragonstone, so they could pose a threat, we must deal with them as soon as possible. And Lady Lyanna remains missing, likely with other Kingsguard, including Arthur Dayne." I glanced at Ned as I finished, noting the mix of anger, sorrow, and unease in his eyes.

Ned spoke, his voice determined. "I'll ride at dawn to find my sister."

Jon Arryn nodded wearily. "Best we rest now. It's been a long day. We'll speak tomorrow."

Hoster agreed, eyeing my bloodied armor. "Yes, rest serves us all, and you, Lord Stannis, look like you need it most."

I nodded. "Very well, we'll speak tomorrow.". I turned to Tywin Lannister. "Lord Lannister, I want to have a word with you, alone."

Others besides Tywin bowed and went away.

Tywin's gaze met mine as I approached him, my voice a low growl. "I want your army to leave the city, and before they leave, they must return everything they stole from the people."

Tywin's face tightened, displeasure clear. "It may be unwise to deny soldiers their rightful spoils of war."

I sighed inwardly, exhaustion dragging at me. I stepped closer, a thin smile on my lips. "True, they can keep the spoils, but I want you to know that if your army doesn't return what they took, it will remove your daughter Cersei from the list of potential queens." I clapped his shoulder twice and walked away without waiting for a reply.

 

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Third Pov

 

The flickering candlelight danced across the walls of King Aerys's former chamber, deep within Maegor's Holdfast, now claimed by Stannis Baratheon. The chamber was vast, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadow, where age-worn tapestries depicting three-headed dragons hung like forgotten banners. Once crimson and black, the sigils had faded to rust and soot, dulled by time and dust. The red walls were cluttered with old portraits. Near the wall was A massive bed with red drapes.

At the centre of the room, an oversized iron tub sat atop a stone floor, filled with hot water that gleamed in the low light.

Stannis lay within it, eyes shut, and leaned back in the tub, the hot water relieving his aching muscles. Two servants, a young and an older woman, attended him, scrubbing his arms and pouring warm water over his shoulders. His tall, broad-shouldered frame filled the tub, the water splashing at his muscled chest, a result of years spent training for battle.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the quiet. Stannis's eyes flicked toward the sound.

"Come in," he called, his voice steady but tired.

The heavy door creaked open, and Rolland Storm stepped inside, his armor clinking softly. Stannis gestured to the servants. "Leave us." They bowed quickly, gathering their buckets and slipping out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Stannis fixed Roland with a steady gaze. "Report."

Roland inclined his head respectfully. "Your Grace, as you ordered, the Red Keep is fully under our soldiers' control. The Lannister army has returned the stolen goods to the people and has encamped outside the city. We've also sent ravens to Storm's End and the Farwood stronghold, as you commanded."

Stannis nodded, his expression unreadable.

"How is Lorent? And have you found Lord Varys?"

Lorent is Recovering. The maester says he'll make it," Roland replied. "As for Lord Varys, we haven't located him yet."

Stannis, but he waved a hand. "Fine. You can go rest. Tell a servant to bring more hot water on your way out."

Roland bowed again and left the chamber. Stannis leaned back in the tub, closing his eyes, letting the warmth seep into his bones. The day's burdens faded into the background.

A soft knock broke his reverie, and a young servant girl entered, carrying a steaming bucket.

"Your Grace, I've brought the hot water," she said, her voice timid but clear. Stannis opened his eyes and studied her. She was about his age, perhaps a year or two younger, with a delicate beauty, soft brown curls framing her face, and wide hazel eyes. She wore a simple grey dress, but it did little to hide her slender, graceful figure. She held clean towels in one arm.

"Thank you," Stannis said, his voice softer now. "Add it to the tub."

She approached and poured the water slowly into the tub, careful not to splash. Her cheeks flushed as she moved, eyes flicking toward him and then away. Stannis noticed. It wasn't surprising, Stannis knew the effect he had. His body was a testament to years of training, his muscles lean and defined, his broad shoulders and tall frame commanding attention. His face, though stern, had a quiet allure: those sharp blue eyes, the strong lines of his jaw, and the intensity of his gaze often left an impression. He wasn't Robert, whose charm had been effortless and roguish, but Stannis's disciplined, rugged sight had its appeal, and now that he was king, it only made him more desirable.

He noticed her blush deepen as she worked and decided to test the waters. Sitting up slightly, he met her gaze, his blue eyes steady.

"Would you help me wash my back?"

Her flush deepened, but she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, Your Grace." She set the bucket aside, dipped a cloth in the water, and began to scrub his back, her hands trembling slightly at first but growing steadier with each motion.

Stannis leaned forward slightly, then spoke. "Tell me about the Mad King."

The girl froze for a moment, her hands stilling, a flicker of fear crossing her face. Stannis turned his head slightly to look at her.

"Don't be afraid. He's dead now, he can't hurt you."

She swallowed, then nodded, her voice soft as she resumed her task. "King Aerys… he was terrifying to look at, Your Grace. He stopped bathing near the end and said the water would poison him. His hair was matted, tangled down to his waist, and he wouldn't let anyone cut his nails; they grew long and yellow, curling like claws. His eyes were wild, always darting, and he talked about fire, about burning people. He looked more beast than man."

Stannis listened silently, his expression unreadable, as she finished scrubbing his back. He leaned back against the tub, the iron cool against his skin, while she stood beside him, her hands clasped nervously. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice gentle and shy.

"Thank you, Your Grace, for saving Maegor's Holdfast from the Lannisters."

Stannis looked up at her. Her sincerity wasn't something he expected, and it caught him off guard in a quiet, human way. He studied her face, then He tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"Why don't you join me? There's enough room for two."

Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, but a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips as if she'd hoped for the invitation. She hesitated only a moment before setting the towels aside and reaching for the laces of her dress. The fabric fell away, revealing a lithe, graceful body, slender curves, smooth pale skin kissed by a few freckles across her shoulders, and a quiet elegance in her movements. Her breasts were small but shapely, her waist narrow, and her legs long and toned, the result of years working in the Red Keep. As she stepped out of her clothes, the light caught the soft glow of her skin, her nudity captivating.

She stepped into the tub, the water rippling around her as she settled across from him. Stannis reached out, his hand finding her waist, pulling her closer with a firm but gentle grip. He leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a slow, deliberate kiss, the warmth of the water and the heat of the moment blending into one.

 

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