Stannis, far too Mannis

Stannis Baratheon found himself once again considering the man who had, to the dismay of many of the gathered lords, attained the position of chief advisor to Robert. Foolishness, all of it.

If the lords wished for greater importance, then they should show greater competence.

Alistair had taken the duties of a bannerman to house Baratheon upon himself and had performed them exceptionally well. It was only just that he be rewarded with greater weight and increasing responsibilities for such service. Stannis could only commend the man.

But for now, there were other matters to attend to. The war council was one of the last they would have before the war began in earnest, and Stannis, of course, attended as was his duty, so he could both advise his brother on matters of strategic importance within the Stormlands, and know what to expect when it came to the defence of Storm's End.

The assembled lords were arguing over the course of the initial stages of the war. Lords Wylde, Estermont, and Musgood were arguing that quickly combining the forces of the Stormlands with the forces of their allies were paramount, and that they should march for the Riverlands immediately, and attempt to overwhelm the forces of house Appleton on the way. It was a viable strategy, as taking the Appleton keep would grant them a holdfast on the Roseroad, and allow them to weaken the Targaryen's forces, and starve their armies before they ever took to the field. Even if the chances of taking the keep were not great, they would still reach their allies with greater speed, and Storm's End would not fall. He would not allow it.

Against them were the lords Dondarion, Bolling, and Grandison, who argued that securing the pass of Summerhall was of greater importance so that there was no chance of Storm's End falling. They proposed that should they take Ashford, they would force the Reach lords to either siege down their own keep, or march on the Stormlands while leaving behind an unknown force within the keep, who would then hold a knife to Highgarden itself, as there were no keeps between the two forts to warn of their march. Those were of course only the simplest of scenarios, but no matter what course the Tyrells decided to chart, they would significantly weaken the greatest ally of the dragons.

Robert was, for once, quiet as he stood, looming over the maps splayed out over the table. Every so often, he would turn to speak with a lord who came to council him with their supposed wisdom, and he would quietly murmur with them for a moment, before clasping their hand, and patting their shoulder in dismissal. Then he would turn to confer with Alistair over whatever advice, good or bad, he had been offered. Stannis expected that most advice was horrid, but he supposed Robert wished to show that the words of all were equally considered.

Stannis ground his teeth as the arguments between the lords became more and more inane and needless. There was such a clear tactical choice, and he could not fathom why neither his brother nor Alistair spoke to stop the unfolding idiocy.

"The choice is clear, now let us make it, and then continue to other matters that actually warrant discussion," Stannis' patience snapped, and the clipped words fell from his lips, causing a sharp silence within the room. Stannis swept his gaze across the miffed lords, and stepped to stand opposite his brother, jaw clenched in annoyance.

"Oh? Do tell, brother, what we need to do. You've shown insight before, and I'm sure you'll say something clever now, aye?" Robert said with a grin, probably meant to be encouraging, but Stannis could only see how strained it clearly was.

"The idea of joining with our allies quickly is flawed in many ways. The North is vast, and the likelihood of Eddard Stark even having gathered his banners by the time we arrive in the Riverlands is a slim chance indeed. Even more importantly, we mustn't forget that a new alliance and marriage between house Tully and house Stark is still being considered, and that if we do not make it clear that we might defeat the Targaryen forces, they may very well take the death of Brandon Stark as their chance to stay their hand from war."

"We must therefore show our prowess and take Ashford to make clear that we have already hamstrung the Reach at least for some time, as well as fortify the Stormlands, a matter of importance, considering that houses Bolling, Grandison, and Connington are what lie in the pass between the Reach and Storm's End. This will also perhaps force the Dornish to a standstill, as the prince's pass would force them on a long, arduous detour all the way to Highgarden to cross the Mander, or battle and siege their way through fort after fort in the Stormlands. Keeps held by houses whose loyalty we are more assured of, that is," Stannis said, looking at the houses he had earlier mentioned with a narrowed gaze.

While Bolling was not a traitor and turncoat like Grandison, he still only began to gather his men after Robert and Alistair defeated three houses in a single day. And Ronnald Connington had not even appeared at Storm's End, siting his position as a mere castellan of Griffen's Roost as why he had avoided his duty as a bannerman even after Robert had stripped Jon Connington of his titles for turning against his liege.

Stannis knew he was right, and stood with his back straight even as the gathered lords set aside their differences to glare at him. All except his brother and Alistair, that is. It mattered not, either way. He had more important matters to see to, and he still had not spoken to Renly as of yet to ensure that he learned sufficiently in his lessons with maester Cressen.

"Well that certainly was a fine plan, Albright. What brilliant scheme is next? Teach Renly that poking people in the eye is a universal greeting, and have him join Stannis in the 'Hated Baratheons camp'? Convince me that it would be funny to run around the castle and kiss every lord I see?" Robert asked as he drained half a cup of wine and dropped into the chair behind his desk.

The lord's solar of Storm's End was spacious as it was undecorated. It seemed that Stannis, who must have been the primary occupant of the room during the time Robert spent in the Vale, cared little for frivolous things. Such as chairs and tables aside from the single desk and the three chairs surrounding it. Or paintings, or tapestries. Or food. Or books outside of ledgers. Or things outside of the two categories the man deemed 'worthy' which happened to be 'the necessary', and 'Maps'.

The maps and ledgers, however, were plentiful, even if it only made the middle of the room, which would normally house frivolous things such as a sitting area, or a rug if you were truly daring.

Even so, there was nothing more interesting about the room than the slight blue hue of the water on maps, which somehow only highlighted the grey and leather-beige dreariness of the room.

"Alright, Robert, I admit that it did not exactly go according to plan," Alistair said, gesturing a bit vaguely with his hands as his face took on an awkward hue before it swiftly shifted into exasperation. "But honestly, how were we to predict that Stannis would not only be so… harsh, in how he put down the lords he sided against, no matter how right he was, but that he would immediately thereafter take the chance to say aloud the quiet part about questionable loyalties? I mean, did he not realise that no one was mentioning that, on purpose?"

Robert sighed, sank deeper into his seat, and downed the rest of his wine. "Aye, perhaps he wasn't the best choice after all. I'm sure we could have gotten someone else to break before Stannis if we only distracted him somehow. You could have spoken to him on supply issues or asked him something to 'help you' with the little- uh, aqueduct, was it? - that you've had your men building to keep them busy without drilling them to death."

Alistair turned to look out the window for a moment, looking out at the fields and town in the near distance, and finding the thin line of his aqueduct with his gaze. It wasn't too hard to build the thing, really, and he had heard through… YouTube? He thought that was the name at least - that roman legions were often given construction work rather than allowing them free reign while resting, to avoid misdemeanours. He wasn't quite sure it was completely necessary, but it certainly made them stand out from the common soldier who simply came and ate and took before marching on. A necessary distinction to make between the biscuits troop and 'the others', seeing as Alistair was no more than a warlord, which was not the best label to carry. But he couldn't delay forever, so he turned to Robert with a tired sigh.

"But who, Robert? Who else could we goad into speaking out and attain the same benefits? You know I don't find any pleasure in what we did, Stannis seems like an honourable man, but he is also the only lord in your camp who you could safely transfer blame to for a failed endeavour. Anyone else would still be your bannerman, and thus it would still rest on your shoulders if you took their advice and failed. But Stannis? He's your brother, the only person around with enough status that should we fail to take Ashford, it can still be his fault, and there will be no chance of our fundamentally tenuous grasp on the storm lords faltering. Yes, it will be embarrassing, for us and Stannis, if we are routed to run to the Riverlands, but the rebellion will live, and we can still dethrone the mad dragon."

"And why couldn't we tell him?" Robert grumbled as he poured himself another cup.

Alistair looked at Robert with sympathy as he explained, even though he knew that they both knew why. He supposed Robert needed to hear the reasons from someone else.

"Because we barely know him, and what we do know doesn't suggest him to be a man who can pull off or even really understand the need for that sort of ruse. He would simply expect the bannermen to keep following you into the seven hells themself for it is what duty technically demands. Besides, we do have a plan, so it might only elevate his status."

"Aye," Robert said darkly, as he started to pour himself a third cup. Alistair glanced at the shadows in the courtyard and frowned as he realized that it was still only around two. Granted, they had been in that war council since ten, but two cups of wine was plenty.

Alistair shook the morose feeling from before away, and stalked up beside Robert with a smirk, before swiftly snatching the cup from his table, causing Robert to pour wine onto the table.

"Why, thank you, Robert, I appreciate you pouring me a glass," Alistair started to examine the cup and the golden wine within in the most pretentious way he could as he pranced towards the window, ignoring Robert as he swore and tried to both not get wet himself, and save the scattered papers on his desk.

"Would you look at this cup of wine, nay, of ambrosia. Arbour Gold, if I am not mistaken? And how could I be? After all, this fragrance is such that should a man ever feel the call of god, then there is a right chance it is no more than a whif of this heavenly drink. In fact, I have heard tales of what robbers and bandits do when they find this, of lords of old sending out casks of this wonderous drink with their merchants, so that any bandit group who dares rob them will never rob again, for they have torn themselves apart in their mad thirst," Alistair stood in the window, now, the cup held high as he praised it, uncaring for the concern on Roberts face.

"Alistair, don't do it. Just because you deny yourself half of life's pleasures, doesn't mean that you must foist the same fate on me. That wine is one of the last casks of Arbour Gold in the keep. You throw it out that window, and I will beat you in the practice field till you're begging for wine to stem your pain, understood?"

Alistair drew in a deep breath as he stared down Robert, before letting it out in a sigh, and dejectedly shaking his head. "Of course, lord Baratheon," He lowered his hand which held the cup, and started taking steps towards Robert. Who looked no less concerned for his wine.

Alistair stopped then, and his face took on a cast of apologetic curiosity "However, I do believe I've heard a story once, that tells of something I simply cannot let go untested. You see, it claims that when scattered amongst the suns rays, Arbour Gold shines truer than the gold of a Lannister," then Alistair turned on his heel and threw the wine out the window as Robert swore once more, knowing that his wine was now lost to the fall from the tower, doomed to land in some puddle a hundred or so feet below.

"Well, that wasn't nearly as golden as I was told. Though, perhaps, it is only meant to work at sunset? Well, if I find a cup in your hand when I come to gather you for our evening spar, we might just find out, won't we? Until then, I have a growing army to train, and you have a rebellion to lead." Alistair said, and hurried from the room.