Chapter 20

Winterfell

Brandon walked outside the castle's gates just in time to greet all the members of his family. He greeted with a bright grin, "Uncle Ned, and the rest of the family!"

Ned engulfed Bran in a hug, "It's good to see you nephew."

Brandon patted him on the back and went to Lady Catelyn who still looked a little pale –he had gotten news of their little encounter with the bandits-, "Lady Catelyn," he went down to kiss her knuckles.

She nodded her head, "My lord."

"Ahhh! And here are the little Starks… and Robb," Brandon said grinning.

Robb had an apprehensive look on his face as he hesitantly approached Brandon.

Brandon frowned and turned around to find that Nagini has been following him with Severus curled around her.

Brandon smiled at them, "Don't worry, they're harmless."

Nagini growled at that moment causing them to stumble a step back.

Brandon slapped her on the nose causing her to whine like a small puppy.

Robb approached softly and clasped Brandon hands, "It's good to see you, Lord Stark."

Brandon had a weird look on his face, "I get enough of 'Lord Stark' from everyone in the Seven Kingdoms, call me Brandon. We're cousins."

Robb nodded, losing the serious look on his face that he's been forcing and grinning back at Brandon.

"Lady Sansa, your beauty has grown from the last time I've seen you," Brandon said roguishly smiling at her.

She blushed heavily and curtsied, "Th- Thank you, My lo- Brandon."

He moved on to the next girl, who looked away from the wolf with a look of awe and wonder, "You must be Lady Arya."

Her face contorted in disgust at the Lady part but she curtsied at the sharp look from her mother, "Do you have any other wolves?" She asked excitedly.

Brandon nodded, "They have just returned from the hunt and should be at the kennels." He raised an eyebrow, "You want one?"

She nodded eagerly along with the other young boys at whom he chuckled, "Are you sure a direwolf is a good companion for a lady such as yourself?"

She met his gaze defiantly, "Yes."

He smiled wider at her, "From the stories I've heard, you're just like Aunt Lyanna was."

She didn't know whether he was complimenting her or not so she asked impatiently, "So do we got one or not?"

He chuckled at her, "We'll go to the kennels after you've settled in and pick one for each of you, does that please my lady?"

She nodded her head imperiously, causing Brandon to chuckle once more.

"And our very own Brandon Stark!" Brandon said causing the boy to break out in a soft smile.

Brandon got on his knees to get to the boy's level and said lowly, "There's a legend that says at least one in five Starks must be named Brandon, or the wall will fall."

The little kid's eye widened, "Really?"

Brandon said, "Of course not, that's ridiculous."

The boy's face fell and Brandon got up dusting off his robes.

He called for a servant, "She'll show your rooms. Settle in and we can meet later."

Ned nodded and his children and family went to follow him before he stopped and asked, "Where's Robert?"

Brandon and Benjen smiled, "His grace is currently… engrossed in an important matter."

"Matters pertaining…?" Ned asked.

"The welfare and continued prosperity of the Seven Kingdoms." Benjen said briefly.

Ned sighed deeply, "He's with whores isn't he?"

They chuckled in response as Ned went on his way shaking his head in disappointment.

"Your grace," A voice called from behind.

Brandon turned, "Jory! Is there anything wrong?" Jory's family, the Cassels, has served the Starks faithfully for generations. With the Starks rise to grandness, they were rewarded as well, getting a piece of land below Long Lake. Their income comes from the timber in the wolfswood and some from farming. His uncle Rodrick rules the lands while Jory remained loyal, serving as the head of the –much grander- guard of the Starks.

"No, my lord," he shook his head, "I'm just informing you that the men the king has brought from the Stormlands have been integrated temporarily with us, and bringing you this…" He finished holding out a letter.

"Thank you, Jory." He said rolling out the parchment.

Jory nodded at the dismissal and left.

Brandon read the letter and with every word his frown intensified.

Benjen saw his nephew's face and asked, "Something wrong?"

"A letter from the Lord Commander of the Wall," Brandon said, rolling back the parchment and placing it in his pockets.

"It seems that the Freefolk are gathering under a new King-Beyond-The-Wall, a former brother, Mance Rayder."

Benjen frowned, "The Wall is fully manned, what is it that he needs?"

Brandon waved him off, "The number of deserters and lost rangers has almost doubled last month. I'll make sure to inform Lord Umber to increase his men patrolling to make sure no wildling passes this far south."

"That much deserters?" Benjen asked.

"Aye," he nodded, "It may be nothing. The third legion is leaving and some may have gotten bolder with the brief emptiness of the Wall between rounds."

Brandon, Jon, Benjen and Robert were gathered in the private dining room, waiting for Ned to arrive.

"Mine was some Tarly boy at the battle of Summerhall. My horse took an arrow, so I was on foot slogging through the mud. He came running at me, this dumb highborn lad, thinking he could end the rebellion with a single swing of his sword. I knocked him down with the hammer. Gods, I was strong then! Caved in his breastplate, probably shattered every rib he had, stood over him, hammer in the air. Right before I brought it down, he shouted "Wait, wait", Robert said chuckling to himself.

"Sharing war stories, are we?" A voice said from the door.

Ned was standing at the doorway looking as Stark as he could be.

Robert looked at him and approached him until they were an arm away, "Lord Stark."

Ned took a moment and bowed his head, "Your grace."

They spent a moment looking at each other before they broke out in laughter and embraced each other, "Seventeen years Ned! Where the hell have you been?"

Ned smiled, "Holding the gate of the North for my nephew."

"Ah! The mighty Moat Cailin with its 20 staggering towers and walls that a dragon can't take down." Robert said theatrically.

Ned smiled genuinely at Robert, "I'm sure Harren the Black would disagree."

Robert boomed out laughing, "Gods, I've missed you Ned." He grabbed a wine bottle and poured two cups, "I would've come through Moat Cailin, but we figured it would be easier if we take it by ship from the Stepstones."

Ned bowed his head, "You're always welcome at Moat Cailin, your grace."

"Dammit Ned, piss on the formalities. I'm still the same Robert that used to sneak out wineskins out of the kitchens at the Eyrie." Robert said.

Ned laughed and said, "You look well Robert."

"Aye," he said patting his stomach, "dropped some weight before the Stepstones. Can't have the demon of the trident out of breath in the middle of battle eh?"

Ned just chuckled and sat down with the rest of them, "How's King Landing?"

"A pit of snakes and backstabbers," Robert grumbled, "Would've stunk of sweat and shit if it wasn't for your nephew fixing it up," he said raising his glass towards Brandon, "To the new hand of the king!"

Ned raised his eyebrow, "You named Brandon your hand?"

Robert nodded, "Aye, Tywin is going to get pissed for sure," he said chuckling, "But I don't need any more blond shits surrounding me in the capital. I would've named you but I know you hate politics more than I hate the Targaryens."

Ned chuckled, "He'll serve you faithfully."

"I know he will. You Starks are the bloody finest people in the Seven Kingdoms, I say."

They smiled at the King and thanked him.

"So, when was your first kill, Jon?" Robert said.

Jon said, "When I was eleven."

Ned and Robert raised their eyebrows, "Bloody hell, that early?"

Jon nodded, "Aye. It was an execution and Brandon said that I'd have to do it myself, like our fathers and forefathers did."

Robert said, "Isn't eleven a bit too young though? I'm all for blood and killing but you were still a boy back then."

"He wouldn't have stayed a boy forever," Ned said.

Benjen butted in, "Ah and Jon did us proud that day, in one strike and unflinchingly."

Jon just smiled in response.

"Good with whores and a sword, eh?" Robert said laughing.

Ned narrowed his eyes dangerously at Benjen, "Whores?"

Benjen shrugged, "Don't blame me. He has been at King's Landing for all this time. As far as I know, he started sleeping around when he got back from Dorne."

"The whores used to tell me that they used to call his cock the Snow cone," Robert boomed out laughing, "They can't do that anymore can they, Lord Stark?"

Jon grinned and asked, "You ask your whores about me while fucking them, your grace?"

They all, with the exception of Ned who chuckled softly, broke out in laughter, while Robert stammered and threw his cup of wine at Jon with a laugh, "Cheeky bastard."

"All this talk about whores," Robert stood up, "Benjen, I trust I'll find more of these surprises at my chambers?"

Benjen grinned, "All month long, your grace."

Robert boomed out in laughter and clapped Benjen on his back, "See you at the feast tonight!"

As soon as Robert left the room Ned rounded on Jon, "Whores, Jon?"

Jon stuttered at his father and Benjen broke in, "Cut it off, Ned. They're boys, that's what they do."

Ned looked at Robb, "You haven't been going to brothels as well, have you?"

The boy looked resolutely at his father and shook his head, "Never, father."

The rest looked at him incredulously, "Really?"

"Never," he affirmed.

"You've been to a whorehouse before, frequently in fact . I own all the brothels in the North and most of the other kingdoms, kid." Benjen said with a teasing grin.

"Not the one with Kayla in it," Robb snapped and shut his mouth audibly, realizing his mistake and looking with wide eyes at his father.

Everyone sniggered and Benjen said, "I'll be sure to have this Kayla work for me then, nephew,"

Before Ned could snap back at him, a servant entered, "Lord Stark, Lady Arya and Lord Brandon are asking for you."

Brandon stood up, "They must be impatient for their wolves, come on then. Bring Sansa as well, Uncle Ned. We'll have to pick one for them… and little Rickon when he grows up."

"This one!" Bran said excitedly.

Arya snapped, "It looks silly, this one looks much better."

Brandon stood on the side chatting with Ned and Benjen, while Jon helped his half-siblings pick out their new companions.

"You've grown nephew," Ned said.

Brandon nodded wordlessly, "Any thoughts about marriage?"

Sansa perked up, hearing the conversation from where she stood with her siblings.

"Not going to happen," Brandon said briefly.

"What do you mean, not going to happen?" Ned asked, "You're seventeen name-days, most are married at your age."

Brandon waved him off, "I don't want to marry."

"You'll leave Winterfell with no heirs? You have a duty." Ned said angrily.

"Even if I don't marry, I do have heirs," Brandon said motioning at the family, "5 of them, in fact."

"Still, it's your duty to further our line," Ned said tiredly.

Brandon answered, "You've been doing great so far, five children, why don't you further it for us unwedded Starks. Five more shouldn't be a problem."

Ned shook his head and asked, "What of Benjen then? He has to grow up someday. Have you thought of any marriage prospects for him?"

Brandon sighed, "Uncle Ned, my family can marry anyone they like. We're the richest, most powerful kingdom in Westeros. No army can lay foot on the North. We don't really need alliances that much."

"Still, you should consider." Ned said.

Brandon just nodded, "Yea sure."

The rest of the Starks have approached them, each holding a wolf pup in their arms, "Has each of you found one?"

They all nodded happily and Arya said, "This is Nymeria, Robb's Greywind, Sansa's Lady," She said looking disgusted by the stupid name, "and Bran can't figure out a name for his direwolf."

"What about your little brother? Rickon," Benjen asked.

"That one," Arya pointed to the one Jon was holding.

"Very well," Ned said and went to move but was stopped by a big female direwolf sniffing at his hand and rubbing his hands affectionately.

Benjen pointed out, "I think she likes you."

Ned chuckled and went down on his knees, petting the large direwolf, "You'll be my companion, won't you?"

The wolf licked his face happily in response causing them all to chuckle, "Very well, Lya."

"After Lyanna?" Benjen asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Aye," Ned asked, seeing the look on Benjen's face he asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's a wonderful name," Benjen said holding his hands up, "for our sister, not a wolf."

Brandon butted in, "You named your children after your bestfriend, father, foster father, brother and nephew. Don't you think you should be more innovative?"

Ned frowned before getting up and saying, "Come now, Lya." At which the wolf yipped and happily followed him.

Brandon followed him, "What do you think about Winterfell now, uncle Ned?"

Ned shook his head in wonder, "I've been meaning to tell you. It's… incredible. Nothing like it used to be."

"Are the castles down south like Winterfell?" Arya asked.

Brandon shook his head, "Most are much much smaller, little wolf. Winterfell's the largest and grandest city and castle in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Largest city, I'll give you that. But I think Casterly Rock still holds some prestige and grandeur of its own." A cocky voice butted in.

A tall figure with blonde hair wearing a white armor and a white cloak approached us with a smirk on his face.

"Ah, bloody hell!" Jon said.

"What's wrong, Jon?" Brandon asked.

"We're supposed to be sparring in…"

"Twenty minutes ago," Jaime said.

"Yea," Jon said sheepishly scratching the back of his head, "I'll catch up with you tonight, okay?"

Brandon nodded while Ned for some reason looked in shock.

"Ned," Benjen nudged him softly, "NED!"

Ned jumped and mumbled, "The Kingslayer… and my son… friends?"

Benjen said, "They fought alongside at the Stepstones."

"But he's the kingslayer!"

Brandon frowned, "Talk to Jon about it later, Uncle Ned."

"My own flesh and blood… friends… bloody Lannisters," He kept muttering.

Sansa was beside herself with joy and excitement from the moment she set foot inside Winterfell. Even before they arrived, her heart almost fluttered in excitement at the site of Winterfell with its monstrous three circular pearl-white walls. Where most castles she has seen in the past – which wasn't admittedly much- were made of bricks, Winterfell was smooth and shiny and white, as if a man carved it out of a huge pearl he found on top of that hill.

From what she could hear, she wasn't the only one admiring its beauty. The only castle that had such masonry was Dragonstone, and it was the last castle to be used with this ancient lost Valyrian technique. Well not so lost now, she thought smugly. Her smart cousin has re-discovered it all alone, and he refused to tell anyone how the stone is to be fused together in such manner.

The first and outermost wall only held the private farmlands, which was to make sure they're never starved in a siege, her uncle Benjen told her. Her father and mother seemed to watch numbly at all this grandness and beauty of the castle. Columns of knights and lords were pouring through the gates in huge numbers with their shining armor and colorful banners fluttering on the walls. It was everything she ever imagined Winterfell to be.

She knew her family was rich thanks to her cousin but this was a different matter entirely. The gems, gold and beautiful decorations could feed a kingdom for 2 decades if they sold it. Her father, although they had much more money than the other lords, only used the money for the upkeep of Moat Cailin and usually hated spending extravagantly while her cousin went all out with the grandest castle in the Seven Kingdoms.

Her cousin, she thought mentally sighing blissfully.

She still had nightmares about her kidnapping. The thunder and storms usually brought it back. The only reason these scum managed to pass through the canal gates was because they threatened to slit her throat.

He infiltrated Pyke in the middle of a storm when no else could, brought her back and rained fire and thunder on the Ironborn. She shuddered at the death and destruction of the Iron Islands but she reasoned that her cousin had good reason to do what he did. She has seen the way these savages treated the thralls and the captured green-landers as she has come to learn of them.

But her handsome cousin saved her, she thought blushing.

"….ady Sansa!" A voice cut her thoughts.

She looked to see her cousin and the rest of her family looking at her worried, have they been calling her for a long time?

"Are you okay?" Her cousin said smiling that roguish smile of his.

She blushed heavily and nodded silently while Arya sniggered.

Her father looked at her oddly before addressing her cousin, "I still think you should get married."

She looked hopefully from the sidelines at her cousin only to find him rolling his eyes, "Uncle Ned…"

"What about the Tyrells? I hear that Lady Margaery is a beautiful maid and they would jump at the chance to be related to us." He suggested.

What? No way! Her beautiful cousin wasn't going to be married to a… to a… to a harlot… from Highgarden.

"No," her future-husband said with a tired sigh causing Sansa to calm down internally with a smug smile, "You plan betrothals to your own children and leave Benjen and me to the bachelor life."

Sansa swallowed heavily, but shook herself to calmness. Her mother always told her that most men were dense, her hus-cousin was in love her, and he just didn't know it.

Brandon meanwhile was picking up on her stray thoughts and sweating nervously, cursing this blasted reincarnation of Ginny Weasley.

"What about Robb," Benjen said.

"Do you have any suggestion?" Ned asked with an amused smile.

"Dacey Mormont,"

Ned frowned, "Isn't Jorah Mormont in exile?"

"Aye," Benjen nodded ruefully, "His wife demanded an extravagant lifestyle, Bear Island was generating a good income after the projects Bran started, but it was going slow in the beginning for the opening of the mines and setting up ships and harbors. Jorah sold poachers to slavery to be able to pay for his wife's extravagant life, while his sister poured the money coming to them, into making Bear Island's more defensible."

"But isn't he the Lord of the keep?" Arya asked frowning.

"It doesn't matter if you're a woman or a man on Bear Island," Benjen chuckled, "Maege Mormont is more than capable in forcing her brother to fall in line."

"It was the right thing to do," Ned said, "Bear Island has always been plagued by wildlings attack. They have to make the area defensible first before accommodating to Jorah's wife's expensive tastes."

"Indeed, and they are the one of the main supplier of ice to the Seven Kingdoms now."

Ned chuckled, "Had Jorah endured for a while, he might've been here enjoying the new wealth of House Mormont instead of suffering wherever he is."

Benjen nodded, "Anyway, Dacey Mormont is said to be one of the most beautiful northern women. And the Mormonts' have been dying to prove their loyalty. Rewarding them and binding them to our House seems like a good idea."

They both looked at Brandon who shrugged, "I don't care at all Uncles! I'm the richest and most powerful man in the seven kingdoms, and that is unlikely to change in my lifetime. You handle marriages."

"Fine," Ned said tiredly.

"Now that we're done with our pleasant conversation, I want to hit something. Adiós," He bowed with a flourish and Arya started running after him to see him sparring.

"What did he just say?" Ned asked staring at his nephews' back.

Benjen shrugged, "He does it all the time. Now are you sure I can't interest you in any of my establishments?" He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, "Discretion from the lady wife is guaranteed. We even have a wonderful redhead, Ros is her na-"

Ned just rewarded him with a smack over the head.

The Lords and Ladies of Westeros all poured inside the tourney grounds through the private path guarded by Stark men into their different seats. The king was sat in the middle of the grand pavilion with his wife's family on his left side and the Starks' on his right side. The other lords' of the great houses were seated nearby the king while the others were seated encompassing the tourney grounds. Smallfolk were seated upwards.

"Are you ready, your grace?" Brandon asked.

Robert sunk in his chair before nodding.

Brandon signaled to the herald to start announcing.

"The first round shall begin," He said loudly to the knights gathered, "Announcing Ser Gregor Clegane and…" "A dead man," Robert cut in.

The herald looked at the king and coughed, "Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Wyllis Bracken. Ser Loras Tyrell and Ser Rgyer Rivers. Samwell Tarly and Willas Wode,"

The herald continued to say the rest of the names as the knights moved to the designated rings of their fights. Brandon frowned at the mention of Samwell Tarly, he had forgotten about that kid entirely.

Looking at him, he could still see some of the boy that he saw 2 years ago at the Reach. Now, he was just a bit over 6 inches, with broad shoulders and strong muscled arms, a narrow waist and dark hair. He looked a bit like his brother Dickon, only his eyes showed keen intelligence and the Training has crushed his fear. Where he would've previously wept, seeing a chicken slaughtered, now he could crush a man's head with the heavy warhammer he was hefting over his shoulder, without a thought.

He risked a glance at Randyll Tarly who was staring intently at his son with pride evident in his eyes, and he even smiled? Oh, Samwell crushed the bones of the man he was fighting against. How lovely.

Arya was staring eagerly at the fight as were her brothers, while Sansa looked a bit queasy from the blood that was splattered from the small number of deaths that occurred.

Jon and Ramsay won both their matches easily and advanced to the next round. In the next few hours, almost five hundred men were disqualified from their matches, with bets flying all around and the crowd cheering loudly.

Soon enough, the melee ended with the notable knights advancing to the next round and the guest begun moving towards the biggest pavilion made in the world probably for the feast.

Thousands poured inside, while others of non-importance moved on to the inns and brothels.

"Nothing like a good fight to prove the men's mettle!" Robert cried with a boisterous laugh, already half-drunk.

"Indeed, your grace." Brandon nodded with a smile.

Robert snorted, "We're in a feast, Bran! Stop it with the posh talk." He clapped a hand on his shoulder and raised his glass of wine, "To Lord Brandon Stark, the youngest Hand of King in the history of the Seven Kingdoms and the best goddamn Master of Coin there is!"

Many people smiled and clapped, raising their glasses to Bran in respect, while others had a look of shock plastered on their faces, none more evident than Tywin Lannister, which soon turned into silent fury.

"Tywin is pissed." Brandon remarked hiding his mouth with his cup.

Robert snorted, "As if I would trust a Lannister with anything. Let him stew in his anger," Robert looked much happier at the thought of pissing off anything yellow.

"Ned looks annoyed," Robert remarked.

Brandon nodded, "He keeps lecturing me on marriage and extravagance."

"You should get married though," Robert said.

Brandon looked at him blandly, "You're seriously the last person I ever expected to be lecturing me on marriage."

"I may not have the happiest marriage there is…" and trailed off at Brandon's incredulous look, "Okay, I despise my wife. But you're a young lad, live your life, but keep marriage in your mind. Maybe Myrcella?"

Brandon choked, "Your grace?"

"My girl not good enough for you, is she?" Robert asked with a grin.

Brandon smiled at him, "Compulso."

Robert's eyes went glassy for a moment, "Huh… What was I saying?"

"How we're all going to miss Lord Arryn," Brandon said.

"Ahh… Jon," He said, picking up an orange, "Jon once received a barrel of oranges. Only the things had gone rotten, so I flung mine across the table and hit Dacks right in the nose, a squire to Lord Redfort. He tossed one back at me, and before Jon could so much as fart, there were oranges flying across the High Hall in every direction." He laughed uproariously.

Ned laughed from the sides and Robert rounded at him, "You remember that, don't you Ned?"

Ned nodded with a smile still on his face, "I had to clean the stables for a week because of you that time."

Robert laughed once again, "Ahh… Jon."

"I was meaning to ask you, Robert?" Ned said shifting his body to cover their group, "How did Jon die?"

"I was at the Stepstones at that time," He shook his head, "Pycelle said that he had begun healing for a while and suddenly the illness was like a fire in his gut. It burned right through him."

They remained somber for a moment before Robert broke the silence, "That woman of his has gone mad. I tried to get her to foster the boy at Casterly Rock or even at your keep, but she ran away from King's Landing and holed herself in the Eyrie."

"She's a grieving woman, your grace." Ned said.

"Six, and sickly, still suckling at his mother's teats, and Lord of the Eyrie, gods have mercy," the king swore.

"He'll grow," Ned said quietly.

Robert just grunted, "I thought about naming someone else the Warden of the East but Brandon convinced me not to,"

"The Arryns have held that titles for three hundred years," Ned said.

Robert just grunted once again and went off to some serving wench, hugging her and smacking her arse.

"He's changed…" Ned said, watching Robert walk away.

Brandon snorted, "You should've seen him before the Stepstones. He lost almost eight stones before we left for war, his girth used to match his height back then.

At the other side of the pavilion, Cersei moved to sit next to her father, "Reading is considered rude at a feast, father."

"Lions don't concern themselves with the opinion of sheep," He said, his eyes firmly glued to the words.

She frowned and took a peak at the book, "A Queen's brother?" She asked incredulously, "I've never heard of that book before. Who wrote it?"

"Your brother." He said.

"Jaime?" She asked in shock.

He spared her a dirty glance and went back to his reading, "That little monster then? Where has he been holed in these past few moons?"

"Here at the Temple actually," He said, "He wrote several books in fact. Many of them, were quite good reads. The Edge of the World, a Dwarf in Westeros, The Life and Lies of the Mad King."

"He can have fun with his quill and parchment as long as he stays as far as he can away from me," Cersei said sniffing.

Tywin shook his head and went back to reading his book. He was secretly proud that his son managed to do something useful in his life. He still wasn't going to get Casterly Rock, but at least he wasn't whoring and dragging the Lannister name through the mud.

"The whore is getting married," Robert said loudly.

In hindsight, bringing the entire Small Coucnil alongside the King's procession to continue overseeing matters of the state wasn't the best decision Brandon made.

"Whore?" Brandon asked quizzically.

"Danaerys Targaryen, my lord, is wed to Khal Drogo in a week." Varys the eunuch said softly.

"What threat are they to us?" Renly asked, "Even children know that the Dothraki don't sail. They hate and fear the open sea."

"Well, What if they bloody learn Renly?" Robert shouted, flunging his glass across the table, "Would you take out the Stormlands army and face a hundred thousand Dothraki screamers?"

Renly remained silent, "I thought so."

Brandon said, "I think that is very unlikely. The literal term for ocean in the Dothraki language is poison water," Seeing that Robert wasn't convinced, Bran turned to Stannis, "Lord Stannis, how many men can fit on a Galley? Although I sincerely doubt they could build one."

"20-30 men to man the ship, and almost 200-300 soldiers," Stannis said.

"What about with a horse for each man on every ship, with the horses' food and provisions for the journey from mid-Essos?"

"Barely a hundred men huddled together in each ship." He snorted.

"So unless they manage to build a thousand sailing ships without our notice and pile up a hundred thousand Dothraki screamers on them and manage to smuggle… a thousand… ships right under our nose. They mean nothing to us."

"Really Robert, every ship in Westeros would drown them with their horses the moment they leave the coast of Essos. What? Do you think they'll have a thousand warships?" He said.

"The ships in my fleets take a journey to as far as Qarth every month and to Pentos and Braavos every couple of days. With the Stepstones under our control, there's no way they can possibly manage to land on Westeros." Brandon said.

Robert grumbled, "Fine. What if the whore has a boy? You know that when a man fucks a woman, a little prize pops out of her cunt sometimes," Robert shook his head, "There are still those in the Seven Kingdoms who call me Usurper. Did all of you forget how many houses fought for Targaryen in the war? They bide their time for now, but give them half a chance, they will murder me in my bed, and my sons with me. If the beggar king crosses with a Dothraki horde at his back, the traitors will join him."

"What do you want then, your grace?" Pycelle asked.

"I want them dead," He growled.

Brandon replied tiredly, "I would advise against that, your grace."

They all looked at him surprised, "What?" Robert whispered, "After what Aerys did to your father, to your grandfather. And Rhaeger...How many times do you think he raped your aunt?" His voice had grown so loud and he started rising in his seat in anger.

"Exactly. Her father, her brother, not her," Brandon said, "Killing Khal Drogo's new wife would only provoke and anger him. The Dothraki are a bunch of ignorant people, they'll want to plunder and burn the seven kingdoms just because of killing their new Khaleesi."

"You just said there's no way they can manage to land on Westeros," Robert yelled.

Brandon rubbed his eyes tiredly, "It's an annoyance we can do without, your grace. Moving fleets takes money. Money better used on other things, such as whores and drinks, for example."

Robert quickly lost his anger as soon as it came and chuckled softly, "You're just like Jon. He could always drain the anger out of me."

Brandon smiled, "I'll keep my eyes on the situation, your grace. You have nothing to fear."

"Fine," he said getting off the table.

Varys told the king before he could leave, "Your grace, have you decided on whom to name Master of Coin after Lord Stark's elevation of position?"

Robert just waved his hand at him, "Recommend some to me and I'll pick out of them, Bran."

"Of course, your grace," Brandon said.

Brandon felt a headache coming. He had no fucking idea who to name.

He looked up as a thought came to him.

It would be a bit unorthodox but it was the most reliable option, and Pycelle would like having a colleague with him.

Marwyn