(Stannis POV)
The door opens, and Mary comes in with a tray of food and warm drinks. It has become a habit at this point, and I instinctively stop working as she does. She doesn't look at me and simply goes about her things, preparing the table to the side, laying a yellow cloth on it, spreading the cutlery, and finally revealing the still-steaming food.
"Your food, my Lord," she says.
I sigh to myself, still not used to her doing this all the time, and walk forward. Tonight's dinner consists of freshly cooked vegetables of various types and even a medium-sized piece of meat.
"I told-"
"I am aware of it, Lord Stannis, but everyone is getting the same. You need to eat and keep your strength until the end."
We had this discussion almost every day for the past year, and she always seems to win, no matter what. An awkward silence settles, as we both look at one another. Eventually, she bows her head and excuses herself.
"If you need anything, Lord Stannis, I shall take my leave."
"Mary..."
"Yes?"
"... Thank you."
"It is my duty, my Lord."
With that, she exits the solar. This has been going on for a while now. I can't get over this awkwardness, which seems to have settled. I sit down and think about the time passed in this position. I can't help but wonder how long this siege will go on, but it shouldn't be that long. Knowing Robert, he will soon march on King's Landing and depending on how well Thommy and the Blinders have prepared, I will soon hear the news.
*Knock knock*
"Enter."
The Commander of the security guild enters my solar. He has changed over time, trusting me and my word much more, if that was even possible. He always was loyal, Robert made sure of that, but he didn't seem ready to do as I told him, not because of a lack of loyalty, but because the entire situation was very unusual.
"My Lord. I am here with the daily update."
"Go on, Commander."
"I regret to inform you that there have been no new developments as of today, and while the citizens are growing a bit restless, it has been taken care of."
The irony. He regretted informing me that the worst the people of Storm's End were dealing with right now was increasing boredom. Storm's End had endured a full year of siege, yet the walls hadn't been breached, no Reachman had entered the streets and neither did the smallfolk show the signs of starving men and women typical for a siege. The Reachmen were still camped outside our grand city, their banners hanging proudly. After initial attempts to breach the massive walls of Storm's End proved futile, they stopped and waited.
They waited for a surrender that would never come. Because this wasn't your usual city of Westeros.
"Walk with me, Commander."
"Yes, my Lord."
.
We walked underground through the hidden eastern parts of the castle, reaching the spot I had made sure to oversee each morning for months. The sounds grew strange and tense, telling me I had walked to the very edge of the mountain. There they were, the thick metal constructs, coming from the equally thick mind of Robert, holding back the monstrous waves of Shipbreaker Bay. We were now below the waterline. This was the greatest creation of Robert: The fishing domes.
Robert and I had built them ourselves. It had been his idea, but he wanted us to 'create' it together.
Powerful steel-ribbed vaults built into the mountain and sunk beneath the tides, connected to the keep by secret shafts. Within them: fish of many sizes, seashells and kelp. There was enough stock to feed thousands of people if needed. Robert had been correct; the sea hid more wealth than we ever thought possible. The dome functioned in different stages, requiring horses to power it and push and pull the heavy doors, which acted like large nets to catch what the sea brought to our baskets.
"Any problems?" I asked.
"None, my Lord. The contraption is still working as intended," the overseer tells me.
"What about the potential problems, Robert mentioned? Any signs of them?"
"Aye, indeed. We can foresee that it may be in need of maintenance soon, but I calculate another three to four weeks until it will be necessary."
Robert had told us that the sea was anything but kind, and a contraption such as this, which relied on movement and had to withstand the monstrous pressure of the sea down here, was bound to start to malfunction unless we kept it in pristine condition.
"No. We shall not wait and risk the damage being too big. You will start tomorrow. Get another load of food and then start," I command.
"As you wish, my Lord," the man says.
"Commander. You shall inform your people that we will need to reduce the food intake slightly in the coming days. Keep the people contained and controlled."
"As you command, Lord Stannis."
"Good. Let's check on the fields."
.
Of course. Robert wouldn't be proud and content with the large, underwater, metal fishing net. He had to go further. Above ground, several large fields grew barley, carrots and cabbage in rotational patterns that Robert forced the gardeners to learn. It had seemed absurd then. Now, it was ingenious.
'We know what might happen, Stannis. Build for the siege before the siege arrives,' he told me once. 'Storm's End shell never know hunger, when that happens.'
He was right. Irritatingly, frustratingly right. As per usual. It seems surreal, looking at the city guards keeping watch and the controlled crop production. But it was very much real.
The sound of a horn coming from the western wall pulled me from my thoughts. I knew that sound. It was not Reach. It was ours.
"Lord Stannis!" a member of the Peaky Blinders shouted as he climbed the steps to me. "They're moving. The Tyrell host has started to move in some way. We don't know for sure why."
"So the time is here," I muttered.
He blinked and looked at the Commander in confusion.
"My lord?"
"Rhaegar is dead," I said simply. "Yet, still the Reach host remained after this news. Mace Tyrell is a stunted fool and has no backbone whatsoever to stand alone. This can only mean one thing."
Even now, saying it aloud felt unreal. Rhaegar Targaryen, the realm's silver son, was dead and by Robert's hands no less. The songs would mention the way he died and the ruthlessness and brutality of Robert, of course. That was the way of the world. He crushed him not only in battle, but in the history books as well. Rhaegar's death was the blow that brought down the dragons, and no matter what he did while alive, all would know how he died and how it would overshadow his entire existence.
But it is this news of movement in the Reach host that tells me what must have happened. I didn't get a raven yet, so Robert is either very busy or injured. He is surely too busy.
"Ready the gates," I ordered. "Someone will be here soon. The siege is coming to an end."
"The siege... will end?"
"Yes. Any day now."
The Commander bowed and hurried down the steps.
.
The gates of Storm's End boomed open for the first time in a full year, and Lord Ned Stark rode in at the head of a rather small northern group. His face was painted with dust and bloodstains, and his eyes carried the weight of a man who had seen death and was too close to Robert for a while. His expression told me what I needed to know. Robert was alive.
I met them in the yard.
"Lord Stark," I said. "Welcome to Storm's End. You've come bearing news from King's Landing?"
Ned dismounted with a grunt. He was shorter and 'smaller' compared to Robert, but more stoic.
"I came the moment the bells sounded in King's Landing. Aerys Targaryen is dead. As is Rhaegar. Robert has been named king of the Seven Kingdoms. The siege is broken. You held Storm's End well, Lord Stannis."
I gave a small nod. The young Stark looked at me, studied me as though he saw me for the first time, but did not say anything. He was confused, understandably. He was most likely expecting far worse conditions here and to see the hunger and desperation. But there was none of that here.
"How fares Robert?" I asked. The last raven had been full of blood. Rhaegar's blood, most likely.
Ned's jaw tightened. It seems the man was conflicted about some things. Interesting. I will have to ask Robert about it.
"He lives."
"But he overextended his strength and is currently resting," Ned added. "He took wounds that would kill men hundreds of times over. He fought like a man possessed. Some call it madness."
"And you, Lord Stark?" I asked.
"I call it grief and anger at seeing the sack done by the Lannister soldiers."
I did not need to ask for whom.
"What about... What about the children?"
"The Princess, Rhaenys, lives. It was her presence that finally calmed the raging storm that was Robert. Elia Martell though..."
I exhale.
"And the Lannisters?" I asked.
Ned shook his head, conflicted again.
"Tywin Lannister's men have fled the Red Keep with him, the moment Robert released him. His spine was nearly broken. Whether or not he'll live, I don't know."
I frowned. That surprised me. He wouldn't ever do that. Not when
"Robert let him go?"
"He… saw Rhaenys," Ned said quietly. "It stopped him."
I nodded. Yes. That would stop him. It was the only thing that could.
Ned looked out at the very slowly retreating Reach host, at the empty fields where Mace Tyrell's tents once stood.
"You built a city that survived a year under siege," he said quietly. "Jon always said Robert had a good head, but I never imagined—"
"Do not romanticise him," I cut in. "Robert is not a gentle soul. He is the very embodiment of our House's words. But he has more depth than one could ever hope to grasp. He is capable of fixing what is broken, protecting what is his… and destroying everything that threatens it."
Silence settled between us.
"I must go," Ned said at last. "Lyanna is still out there. We got information about where Rhaegar came from, and it points to the south. It seems Dorne holds the secret to my sister's current location."
"How long until you depart?" I asked.
"Right now. I can't delay any longer. Gods know what happened to her."
"We shall provide you with sustenance for your journey. Make sure you have enough men for what might come," I told him.
He looked at me in surprise.
"You have food and men to spare? After the siege?"
"Indeed. You will have what you need. Robert will need your quick return when he recovers."
Ned nodded.
"Aerys is dead. Rhaegar is dead. Their supporters will scatter and bend the knee. But the realm bled a lot, Lord Stannis. It will need time to heal."
"It will. Robert will make sure of it."
"Farewell, Lord Stannis. Until we meet again."
"Farewell and good luck, Lord Stark."
I watched him leave and thought about the future. I wonder what Robert will do now that he has been named king. Knowing him, he will not rest at all and rout the remaining loyalists and sycophants, wringing them dry of all they hold. He will tear things down and rebuild, that's the kind of man he is.
A great time of change will come to Westeros.