41 Power Of Storm

"Two ravens arrived today. One from the Eyrie and another from Winterfell, Your Grace."

Stannis Baratheon informed me over dinner. It had been a few days since Dorian left, and I had started preparing for Storm's End. My ship hadn't seen any action since landing in King's Landing over a year ago, and it was time to bring it home. 

It was only a year and a moon… yet it felt longer than all the six years I had lived before combined. 

"Oh, what are they about?"

"Lord Robb Stark has declined your offer of assistance, stating that he is the Warden of the North and is capable enough to fulfil his duty. However, he will not turn away his brother and King should he arrive regardless."

"I see…" I smiled slightly. "He doesn't want to strain me if he can help it. After all, the journey North is long and arduous."

"Aye… it would seem so. He's a good lad, taking after his father." Renly nodded. "The second piece of news is that the entire court of the Vale will be visiting King's Landing."

If I was drinking anything, I would've spat it out. Fortunately, I wasn't.

"The entire court of the Vale?" I blinked. "What for?"

"As their marriage is sponsored by you, Lord Harrold Arryn wishes to marry his intended at the Sept of Baelor, before the eyes of the King and the royal court" Stannis informed. "There is also mention of a grand tourney…"

With Winter on the horizon? I ain't paying for that.

"Is there now?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Do not fret, nephew." Renly chuckled, no doubt at my face. "It is a tourney that Lord Harrold intends to pay for. Not only is it to honour his marriage to Ysilia Royce, but it is also a way of honouring you and washing away the stain that Lysa's defiance left behind."

"Valemen are the most honourable in the Realm." Stannis nodded. "Given what you did for them, this is unsurprising."

A tourney, during a time like this…

Am I to become the next King Harlaus, lord of butter?

"If that is the case... he and the Lords of the Vale are more than welcome." I nodded, stroking my chin. "Besides, the people of King's Landing haven't had many festivities since I was crowned. A grand wedding and a tourney to go with it ought to liven many spirits."

"I knew you would agree." Renly smiled. "Since our new Lord Arryn wants to pay for it, why not? Besides, it is an opportunity for your newest additions of the Kingsguard to show their skill and worth before the Realm."

"Indeed," I nodded. "However, my decision to visit Storm's End remains unchanged. Should they arrive before I return, welcome them in my stead."

"Of course." Renly nodded.

"Also... I heard there was some infighting between you two." I looked at Renly and then at Stannis. "What was that about?"

"Infighting? No such thing." Renly scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. "We are the most loving of brothers. Who would spread such rumours?"

Nothing gets past Varys...

"Yes, there was," Stannis admitted. "It's settled now, however. You need not concern yourself with the matter."

"It better be settled." I stood up, shaking my head. "You are brothers, and I expect you to act as such. There's a reason why I entrusted the Realm to both of you. Yes, you have your differences - but you also have strengths that bury the weaknesses of the other. Together... there's not a single obstacle we can't overcome. Not a single one."

"... It's natural for brothers to fight, nephew." Renly smiled, nodding. "You are right, however. We are all of the House Baratheon. Infighting is precisely what our enemies wish for."

"Even though we might disagree on most matters, Renly and I do what we think is best for you. "Stannis remarked, a rare smile emerging on his face. "I believe this infighting only happened because you were absent, Your Grace. You are the bridge that leads us to put our differences aside and unite for a common cause."

"Well, I can't always be around and look after my uncles like children. You have to build a bridge to each other."

"Getting scolded by my own nephew." Renly chucked before sighing. "How matters change..."

"Do it for me," I added, my eyes going from one uncle to the other. "It's not only my wish but also a command as your King."

"We will." Stannis sternly nodded.

"Of course," Renly added. "It will not be as simple as it sounds, but we have a common cause."

"As for the matter of my future Queen... I do not plan to break my betrothal. I am not as easily influenced as either of you might think. As King, I know my duty is to the Realm and its people. I live and rule for them. I will not walk away from my duty merely because my heart might seek something else."

Stannis glanced at Renly, who could only smile.

"Our nephew will grow into a most fine King. Lady Arya is most fortunate."

"Lord Eddard and your father would be proud," Stannis added. "Even so... you keep Lady Margaery and the others at your side. Why would that be?"

"Am I not allowed to have friends now?" I raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to have my guards escort such ladies out of sight? I am a knight and a King, uncle. Courtesy is part of my duty."

"See? Our nephew was raised right; he knows the value of loyalty and friendship - especially amongst nobility." Renly proudly stated, patting my shoulder. "There is a reason why so many rally to his cause."

"Because he is the rightful King," Stannis replied simply. "A King has no friends, only subjects and enemies."

"... It's like talking to a steel wall." Renly chuckled. "Am I not wrong, Edric?"

"In a sense, he is right. Many have suddenly become my friends simply because of the crown I wear." I replied, shaking my head. "However, I still have true friends who are my most loyal subjects. Friendship only strengthens their will to serve me, making it more than just duty. Men and women alike are more willing to fight for a King they love and believe in."

"Lord Eddard would go to hell and back for my father... that kind of friendship and loyalty is beyond priceless." 

"I see..." Stannis nodded. "You share your father's spirit. It is no wonder he wanted you as his heir, above all else."

"Something finally reached you?" Renly's eyes widened in surprise. "I never would've guessed."

"Well... I'm done eating." I smiled. "Just try not to wage war on each other while I am away."

...

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Syrio and I were in an intense dance, and I matched him more often than not. What he had for speed and skill, I made up for in strength, reach, and reaction time. If anything, he was on the backfoot... but I didn't recklessly push the attack - taking my time and striking when I saw an opening.

Tap. Tap.

I hit him twice, deflecting his sword and rotating my own against his guard.

"You are twice the fighter you were before." Syrio praised, stepping back. "You see what you did not."

"I've been working on my craft." I nodded. "Your words did not fall on deaf ears despite only teaching me briefly."

"Good." Syrio gave me an approving nod. "Your way is not the water dancing way... yet you have sharpened your blade with its principles, making you a better sword than Syrio Forel, former First Sword of Braavos."

"I am not a better sword than you." I shook my head. "Simply, I have the advantage of youth and strength."

"You will only improve with time," Syrio remarked. "If you continue to practice, no man in the world will be your match when you are grown."

"He's better than you?" Arya blinked, turning to Syrio.

"Yes... my loss only speaks the truth." 

From that day onward, Arya started looking up to me. She'd even ask to spar me... which I entertained. However, she wasn't much of a challenge, and it felt more like I was bullying her.

...

"How would you like to go on a short seafaring trip with me?"

I came to visit Asha Greyjoy, who, despite being kept in the dungeons in the Red Keep, did not look nearly as bad as Joffrey. She was well-fed and even got to go outside from time to time in chains. Of course, it's not perfect... but she isn't a person either of my uncles trust.

"Fuck off." Asha spat on the ground. "I have no interest in serving you, bastard."

"I never said anything about serving," I said, stroking my chin. "Come now, you don't want to rot in this dungeon the rest of your life, do you? I can't treat you well if you don't allow me to."

"I don't need your false kindness."

"... Hm. Did you know that the Iron Islands have been doing quite well recently? In truth, I am proud of them. They use their ships for far more than just reaving and pillaging. Those traditions have been put an end... for something more beneficial. For everyone in the Realm."

"Trading?" Asha questioned.

"Aye... so many ships and a culture for the sea like no other. Not only have they been trading, but some have chosen to act as guardians of other merchants - netting even more profit. " I remarked, leaning against the wall facing her cell. "Peace, prosperity and wealth. The Ironborn have what Balon Greyjoy could never give them. All they needed was a guiding hand and an understanding leader... your father was just a fool dreaming of war and ancient traditions that have no place in a united Realm."

"... You expect me to praise you?"

"Not at all." I shrugged. "Plenty enough people praise me."

"Hmph." She snorted. "Leave me."

"I know you hate this stinking cell. Eh... I'll take you with me regardless. Whether you accept my kindness or not, you will have it."

"Be wary, bastard." Asha frowned, raising her chained hands. "I might just choke you to death."

"I don't think you have the strength nor reach for that."

~

Even though I intended to travel with little company and on a single vessel, the number of people who requested to join me rapidly grew. Many of them were highborn... so one ship with plenty of space turned into a thoroughly packed one as I let some of them join me. There is a saying that the court goes wherever the King does. It couldn't be more true in this case.

Given my abilities, I wasn't too worried about having not all that many guards and only a single ship. I had more than enough tools at my side to handle any sort of pirates that lurked in the Narrow Sea. If anything, I hoped that we got attacked... I could earn some experience.

The Tyrells and Martells were the most prominent two parties who accompanied me, alongside their respective subject houses. Dickon Tarly was one example from the Reach, who Randyll Tarly wanted to squire under me despite him being only a year younger. Out of respect for my Master of Laws and loyal subject, I accepted. 

During this time, I focused on the wind and water aspects of Storm Manipulation to push along my ship to its destination quicker. 

...

While warging into Freedom, I saw a fleet of five pirate ships approaching along the Narrow Sea.

"Oi, is that the Baratheon sigil? Royalty?" One of the pirates remarked.

The captain strained his eyes, looking ahead. "It's only one ship... we're lucky today, boys. They ought to have plenty of highborn, which means plenty of gold."

I blinked as Freedom.

Lucky, is it?

I returned to my body and got ready. Before long, the five pirate ships had mine surrounded. The capable fighters took to the upper deck while the rest went below: my Kingsguard, Ser Garlan, the Hound, the squires of Mistwood, Oberyn Martell, and a decent number of guards.

The person who I had observed to be their leader looked quite confident.

"We have a hundred men against your... what, five-and-twenty?" The captain grinned slightly. Truthfully, he only had eighty at best. "No one needs to die here. Put down your weapons, and I will treat you all kindly."

"Lowly pirates," Loras remarked, having his sword drawn.

"I did say travelling with only one ship was dangerous," Garlan said, turning to me. "This is quite the plight."

"Do these poorly armed pirates unman you, Ser Garlan?" I questioned, smiling slightly. "I thought you might have more courage and faith, having fought by my side against worse odds."

"It is only an unnecessary trouble, Your Grace." Garlan countered with a smile of his own, shaking his head. "I know full well you could defeat them all on your lonesome, if need be."

"... Highborn cunts." The captain frowned, raising his hand. "Did you not hear a thing I said? You have five seconds to surrender your arms before I have my men rain arrows on your pretty faces."

"Oberyn... you wanted to see a proper display of my abilities?" I turned to him. "I'll show you."

"FIRE!"

Half a hundred arrows soared into the sky - but were tossed to the side by a violent wind - shoving a dozen men straight into the sea. The pirate captain watched with a befuddled expression. He hadn't seen a wind so strong emerge out of calm waters.

"What in Seven Hells..."

The skies suddenly darkened, and thunder cracked high above, startling all of the pirates. Rain began to pour down, and the wind grew heavy and fierce, shoving their ships off course. The waves grew in strength, each consecutive one pushing harder. The pirate captain himself fell to the ground from the sudden emergence of a storm.

I raised my left hand to the skies, and the thunder in the skies boomed.

"The Smith beats his hammer, leaving judgement of the fallen to the Father."

I lowered it, and lightning followed.

Crack... BOOM.

One bolt of lightning separated into five, crashing down against every pirate ship. 

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Each bolt of lightning was fiercer than the previous, puncturing through all five of the five ships without fail. Before long, the pirates from those ships were either dead from lightning and fire or drowning. I grabbed my bow and finished the job.

A few had walked up to the upper deck, witnessing the carnage that had ensued. Asha looked genuinely frightened, a rare sight. I turned to Oberyn, who was baffled.

"So this... is your power," he remarked, shaking his head. "No Gods weaved the waters and winds, darkened the skies, or unleashed lightning. It was your magic alone."

"No, the Storm God did." Asha refuted. "This was the Storm God's doing... and the bastard is his vessel."

"He is simply the chosen son of the Seven." Arthur countered. "They have granted him the divine power to judge mortal men."

"..." I shrugged my shoulders. "Everyone is open to their interpretation of my ability."

~

[On the other side of the world...]

After a long and arduous journey, during which he battled storms, fought pirates, and chased the ghost of Daenerys Targaryen across the Known World, Ser Barristan arrived at her court in Meereen. 

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Shackles and the Mother of Dragons."

Missandei stood at the side of Daenerys, looking down on Ser Barristan. 

One close observation and Ser Barristan realised that bringing Daenerys home wouldn't be so simple.

Daenerys was no helpless princess longing for home... she had become a conqueror.