Stannis VI & Barristan II (284 AC)

Stannis VI

Stannis sat at the high table and watched as Robert danced with Jeyne Waynwood. There was always something vaguely dissonant about Robert dancing with a girl he wasn't trying to bed. Not that Jeyne wasn't sufficiently pretty (in the bareboned Arryn way of her mother's kin) but even Robert, it seemed, was willing to draw the line at bedding his Hand's niece.

For one thing he'd have to wed her, and that would rather undermine his strategy for the Crownlands. For another...

He frowned. It wasn't as if he kept close track of his brother's wenching but how long had it been since Robert had a girl in his bed? Not since Stannis returned from Dragonstone.

That went beyond dissonant and right to the implausible. Probably he was simply keeping it out of sight.

"I see that hope springs eternal into my sister's breast."

"Hope that they'll fall out of the dress?" asked Stannis and then realised he'd said that in hearing of Alys Arryn, who had to force a smile over the snarl that was probably more natural.

Sharra Waynwood laughed. "No, but she's young enough to think she can ignore uncle and mother's instructions to concentrate on courting you not your brother."

He grunted. "Robert might remember not to take advantage of that."

The girl rolled her eyes. "I've heard the stories and even met the daughter he left at the Eyrie. Mya's a sweet child but I don't want think she's what my sister wants."

"And what do you want?"

"Right now, Prince Stannis, I would like you to dance with me. That's terribly forward, but you are the hero of the hour. And then, if you'd be so good as to dance with Aemma before she manages to slip away."

The third sister, who had been edging towards the end of the table, shot an innocent look at her mother and then a sour one at Sharra and Stannis.

Tightening his jaw, Stannis pushed back his own chair. It was expected of him, he supposed. "Lady Sharra, would you like to dance?"

She accepted his hand, stood and gracefully half-guided him into the dance. "More than you like it, I would guess. Don't worry, once you've danced with Aemma you'll have fulfilled your obligations and can go back to scowling at everyone from the high table." The smile she directed at him was conspiratorial. "Father doesn't care much for dancing either."

He grunted and concentrated on the steps of the dance for a while as they passed Robert. His brother nodded, having somehow handed Jeyne off to someone else. His new dance partner was a rail thin girl from one of the Crownland houses. She was simpering at Robert in an insincere fashion.

"Poor girl is trying too hard," Sharra noted. "One of the Stokesworth girls?"

"I don't know." He waited until they were at the far end of the hall. "So you've been told to snare me. You aren't trying hard."

"Why Prince Stannis, what a thing to say." She leant against him precisely as far as decorum allowed. "While I would have a hard time saying no, if you wanted me, I'd rather a lord who would be with me in our keep. I don't think a Prince who rules a strategic marchland as well as serving his brother as Master of Ships and who knows what else could do that."

"True enough."

"And I have an understanding with father that if this doesn't work out, he'll look into an arrangement with one of my cousins in Gulltown. Lord... sorry, Prince Jon, isn't on the best of terms with them but they're very rich and after the town was the centre of the loyalists during the war he needs to mend fences."

"And your sisters?" he asked tightly as they spun and started working their way up the hall again.

Sharra shook her hair. "Jeyne has time, unless she does something remarkably stupid. Aemma though... Father's considering a Frey match. You might like her though. She likes helping to run the keep, it's just feasts like this she doesn't like. She thinks they're a waste of time, money and effort."

Stannis ground his teeth. "So you think we'll hit it off."

"I don't see it costs anything to try." Sharra released his hand as they reached the high table. "I think I should sit down again, Lord Stannis." She picked up a fan she'd left there and began waving it. Her eyes flicked towards Aemma.

Not marrying that one if I can avoid it, Stannis thought, picking up his mug and sipping from it. Too bossy. He saw Robert coming back to the table though, trying to brush off Jeyne again without being too obvious. Hah. He deserves that, but I don't want to put up with it.

"Lady Aemma," he offered bluntly. "Would you care for a walk outside in the fresher air?"

Aemma, who was meatier than her sisters, nodded quickly and rose to take his arm. "I would be glad to."

To Stannis' relief, the girl then said not a single word as they exited the hall and crossed the courtyard. Well she's not a chatterbox, that's something, he admitted grudgingly to himself.

Barristan II

Having seen the changes to the throneroom, Barristan had left Ashara with the other ladies of the court (he was old enough and wise enough to know that there were some conversations no man should be privy too) while he went to see what else had been changed.

The Maidenvault being taken over by some devices the King had inspired was a surprise but it wasn't as if the building had been in use since Aerys' mother had passed away.

Barristan roamed back towards more familiar haunts. The White Sword Tower still stood, guarded now by King's Men. It could hardly be their headquarters though, after all - there were far more than seven of them. Perhaps the Royal Guard resided there? There were only seven of them so far...

The doors opened as he pondered, revealing King Robert followed by Lord Bolton and Ser Brynden Tully in the garb of the Royal Guard. "Ser... no, Lord Selmy now." The King raised his hand as well as his voice in greeting. "What brings you back here?"

"Making myself scarce while the women discuss whatever it is they talk of when their men are elsewhere." He tilted his head towards the tower. "I admit I was wondering what use is made now of the place that was my home for so long."

Robert blinked and then shrugged. "Actually it's my residence for now."

"You aren't using the royal arpartments in Maegor's Holdfast?"

"I think Gregor Clegane showed exactly how secure they are and to be honest, all the dragons in the stonework creeped me out." Robert pretended to shudder. "I had trouble sleeping. There's enough room for me the old quarters of the Lord Commander and they're certainly comfortable enough."

"A little spartan for a King?"

"Well I wasn't born royal and we Stormlanders aren't as... haughty as Targaryens." He grinned. "Besides, being associated with what was for so long the most honourable and noble of Knights in all the land is something of a benefit."

"Ah, but those days are past. Our name is tarnished and most of us are dead."

"You, Lannister and Arthur Dayne."

"Yes..." Barristan shook his head. "I should send a raven to Jaime. Arthur remains quite... irate regarding what he views as our betrayal."

"And yet he let you marry his sister?"

"Ah..." Barristan sighed. "Not as such, your grace."

"Oh." Robert shook his head. "Well, I pardoned all the Kingsguard. If he chooses not to make a fresh start then it will be on his own head."

"He would be a dangerous opponent," warned Barristan. "He was the best of us, and greatly respected by many. Yet the man I parted from at Starfall was not the one I had called brother."

Lord Bolton nodded. "It would be wise to pay attention to any whispers that might come from Starfall, your grace."

"I'll add it to the list for my new Master of Whispers," the king said drily. "It's not a short list as it is. Anyway, Lord Selmy. Lord Bolton and I are going to watch the City Watch training. As I recall, you know a thing or two about such matters, would you care to join us?"

"I would be delighted." He thought back to the rumours he'd heard before his departure with Ned. "Is it true that they are forbidden from carrying swords?"

Bolton nodded.

"May I ask why?"

The northerner inclined his head quietly. "Swords are for soldiers. The Watch are to keep the peace, not to slaughter those they police."

"Clubs and quaterstaffs are more than enough to keep order. A sword might make a bravo bold," the King pointed out, "But against a well-trained man with a staff I know where my money would lie."

"Then I suppose that their training is of concern." Barristan nodded in understanding.

"All watchmen must be proficient with staff, club and crossbow." Bolton glanced at the King and bowed his head slightly. "Also his grace insisted on lessons on deportment. It's surprisingly useful."

"Deportment?"

The king shrugged. "A soft word, with a big stick in reserve, can avoid breaking heads better than half the time in my experience. Probably better for them to learn by example and not just by trial and error."