Favorite Relationships: The Baratheon Brothers (3/?)
“Why me, and not my brothers? Renly and his peach. In my dreams I see the juice running from his mouth, the blood from his throat. If he had done his duty by his brother, we would have smashed Lord Tywin. A victory even Robert could be proud of. Robert …” His teeth ground side to side. “He is in my dreams as well. Laughing. Drinking. Boasting. Those were the things he was best at. Those, and fighting. I never bested him at anything. The Lord of Light should have made Robert his champion. Why me?”
Listen to me, you’ve got this dark pit inside you. I know. Believe me, I know. But that doesn’t mean you have to fall into it. You don’t have to be a monster… It doesn’t matter what you are. It only matters what you do. It’s your choice.
When Jon had been very young, too young to understand what it
meant to be a bastard, he used to dream that one day Winterfell might be
his. Later, when he was older, he had been ashamed of those dreams.
Winterfell would go to Robb and then his sons, or to Bran or Rickon
should Robb die childless. And after them came Sansa and Arya. Even to
dream otherwise seemed disloyal, as if he were betraying them in his
heart, wishing for their deaths. I never wanted this, he thought as he
stood before the blue-eyed king and the red woman. I loved Robb, loved
all of them… I never wanted any harm to come to any of them, but it did.
And now there’s only me. All he had to do was say the word, and he would be Jon Stark, and never more a Snow. All he had to do was pledge this king his fealty, and Winterfell was his. All he had to do…
“He is still your elder brother. If either of you can be said to have a right to the Iron Throne, it must be Lord Stannis.“
Renly shrugged. "Tell me, what right did my brother Robert ever have to the Iron Throne?” He did not wait for an answer. “Oh, there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it. Robert won the throne with his warhammer.” He swept a hand across the campfires that burned from horizon to horizon. “Well, there is my claim, as good as Robert’s ever was.”
Everyone advised me to send you to the ruins of Valyria to live out your short life with the Stone Men before the sickness spread through the castle. I told them all to go to hell. I called in every maester on this side of the world. Every healer, every apothecary. They stopped the disease and saved your life. Because you did not belong across the world with the bloody Stone Men. You are the Princess Shireen of House Baratheon. And you are my daughter.
“There’s only one reliable leader left in Westeros. Stannis. He’s got the birthright. He’s in his prime. He’s a tried and tested battle commander. And he doesn’t just talk about paying people back, he does it.”
How do you think Stannis reacted when he found out that Davos named one of his sons after him?
Like Stannis. Stiff, uncomfortable, probably openly spoke of it as something he didn’t care for (“I know how that game is played”), secretly extremely flattered and touched. (Also probably hideously embarrassed at the boy’s nickname of “Stanny”.) I’m sure there are multiple fics on the subject out there.