Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’d say it was a cruel twist of fate, another jape from the gods that Pyetaes had settled as a raptor, but as it was his faith in Gods and their ability to influence the world had long since been lost.  Sighing to himself Stannis supposed it was just another fact of life, at just shy of seventeen name days his daemon was a bird, that was all there was to be said.

Of course it wasn’t all that would be said, naturally there would be a great titter amongst the highborn and smallfolk alike that the second Baratheon wasn’t even a proper one, the men and women born of his family had almost always had stags or does for their daemons.  Occasionally there were daemons settled in the maternal line, he knew for a time it was thought that his own father, Steffon’s daemon Koroaena would settle as a dragon like his mother Rhaelle.  But of course like all the Lord Baratheon daemons before him, Koroaena settled as a doe, an impressive caribou with antlers that would scrape doorways if she didn’t duck carefully whilst moving through.  They made an impressive pair Lord Steffon Baratheon of the Stormlands and his antlered beast, the Baratheon’s own living sigil. 

Years ago, Stannis remembers Pyetaes playing with Robert’s daemon Erakundea the young does charging at each other, their little stubs of antlers completely useless and resulting in a clash of heads.  

It was always Robert’s or Erakundea’s idea to play.

And they would almost always win.

Lord Steffon and his Uncle Harbert would entertain them with battles between their daemons, both reindeer would charge as if in a tourney, the resulting crash could be heard for miles around like a clap of thunder in the storms.  The others would roar with laughter, whilst his mother would shake her head yet smiling at the show, Saelumn her green sea turtle bobbing his heading in agreement.  Stannis would smile sometimes, an acknowledgement to their merriment, though he could never quite join in with the ruckus laughter.  If he did laugh, it wasn’t loud, he wasn’t a loud laugher.

Idly stroking Pyetaes feathers he wondered if Robert played this game with Ned Stark before his daemon Daekuris settled.  Of course Daekuris was a direwolf now, like all the Starks, though there was a time, six moons perhaps, time enough for the crashing of antlers to be heard across the Eyrie. 

The Eyrie.

Reflexively Stannis clenched his jaw harder, just thinking of the place made him want to grind his teeth, Pyetaes ruffled her feathers and gave him a pointed look, the effect though intimidating to others caused Stannis only to exhale loudly, turning his gaze toward the ocean.

“There are worse things to be, raptors are practical at least” she said almost apologetically.

The corner of his mouth twitched up in response, he didn’t blame her, (no more than he could blame himself).  It was all the reply she needed.

It wasn’t a matter of practicality however, though it was something he prided himself on, Stannis had thought for a while that Pyetaes might choose the form of their mother’s daemon Saelumn, an unwieldy and cumbersome green sea turtle, the sigil of the Estermonts.  As second son of the Baratheons it would have been surprising but acceptable, the sea turtle was not a creature of knights that fought in tourneys, it wasn’t grand or imposing demanding respect from others, but he wasn’t to be Lord of Storm’s End, it suited him fine.  The sea was a second home to him, and though it meant nothing he could tell that he was always more comfortable than Robert on a ship rocking in the waves.

Another part of him lamented the loss of seeing Saelumn ever again, there were stags and does enough, but turtles…he’d never seen one like his mother’s, sailors he’d seen were paler or green-brown, but Saelumn and Pyetaes were pure green, true green, he had no other words to describe it.

Instead as a bird of prey Pyetaes form only served to remind Stannis of Jon Arryn and his falcon Aestra, the man who was practically a second father to Robert but most pointedly not to him.  Though Pyetaes and Aestra looked little alike, they were both raptors, and similar enough for jests and jibes from Robert and curious whispers from the small folk. 

Stannis did not look forward to the conversation he was duty bound to have with Renly and Pavae, at five years of age he was old enough to grasp the concept of settling, but not the reasons why Pyetaes had settled as anything other than a doe.  Cressen and Blaenori would smile at first when Stannis tells him that Pyetaes has settled before realisation dawns that there is to be no clip-clop of hooves through the doorway, that Pyetaes is perched with barely enough room on Stannis’ broad shoulders.  Then it would be pity and for all their understanding of their natures Cressen and Blaenori a black raven daemon as favoured by maesters would offer empty platitudes and assurances that despite it all his parents would be proud.  Underneath it all Stannis thinks or rather hopes that it is Cressen himself who is proud, proud that he is now a man, almost running Storm’s End himself alongside Great Uncle Harbert the castellan.  But it is not Cressen’s approval he wants.

There was the suggestion that Robert might come down for Stannis’ seventeenth nameday, perhaps he might be further persuaded to come and visit if he knew Stannis had settled.  Finally they could greet each other as men grown and see truly what the other’s soul held.

Chapter Text

He stood in the solar his back to the door staring out the window, towards the sea, towards the bay.  Pyetaes sat upon his shoulder, he’d taken to wearing mail and the plainest of garments so she could perch there without piercing through and ruining finer fabric.  Not that either particularly cared for finery, however Cressen had suggested that there was some expected of highborns and that whilst Robert was away he stood in his brother’s stead and should act as they would expect of Robert. 

“And what do they expect of Robert, Maester?” the words had leapt out of his mouth.

Robert a charming drunkard who laughed and bellowed like thunder, boasting his skill in achieving ‘the seven’ despite his betrothal to Lyanna Stark.   But that Stannis left unsaid, instead he had clenched his jaw and held his tongue, Pyetaes caught his eye and he looked, he could never be what they expected of Robert, not with Pyetaes and her glowing yellow eyes and intense almost human stare.   Erakundea had warm brown eyes, and for all the strength and power in her limbs matching Robert and earning them both respect, she was lovable as people had always loved Robert and their father before him.

Remembering Cressen’s words Stannis stepped away from the window and readied himself to meet Robert, Eddard Stark and Lord Arryn as they approached the castle.  Foolishly he had thought that Robert was to come by himself, but of course not, he and his brother were inseparable.  

The conversations he’d had with Cressen and then Renly had not been as trying as he’d anticipated. 

Cressen had begged his indulgence for a moment before pulling him into a hug, surprising himself Stannis returned it, albeit only momentarily and stiffly. 

“An osprey, eh Pyetaes?  A good strong sea bird.” Cressen remarked as he pulled back, smiling with tears in his eyes.

“There should be a celebration, Stannis, to mark the event.” Said Blaenori.

“Now Nori, there is time enough for discussions about this later” chided Cressen as he looked at Stannis warily, Nori oft lacked the patience and tact that was required when talking to Stannis and the results were unpredictable. 

Stannis frowned, but it was Pyetaes that answered “Robert is arriving within a week, there is to be a celebration then”.

An almost imperceptible head tilt was Stannis’ thanks to his daemon, he spoke right after her taking control of the conversation “I must go to tell Renly of the settling, what have you taught him of the matter already?”

“He’s only five Stannis, he understands little about it, though he’s been learning the daemons of his ancestors and how sigils often reflect the daemons of the great families.  House Tully confused him thoroughly as did House Tyrell.”

Stannis grunted and nodded to both Cressen and Blaenori “Thank-you maester” he added as he turned on his heel and left. 

As he marched down the corridor Stannis considered his new found appreciation for the tall doors and corridors of the castle.  It had been designed for Durran’s caribou, for the Durrandons that followed, the Baratheons that had kept a steady line of deer alive and now Robert and Erakundea. 

But such large beasts were not without their drawbacks, his father had never been completely at ease at sea, the hulls of a ship were not designed to fit the cumbersome antlers of reindeer.  It would be true of Pyetaes also, she would have to rest on his forearm with little chance to stretch her wings in cramped and closed quarters filled with the smell of other bodies.  It was no surprise that they would both prefer the open ocean above.

“Stannis!” Renly shouted as he spotted his brother, Pavae in the form of a fallow fawn bouncing around him happily.  “You’ll take me to greet Robert won’t you?”

Stannis clenched his jaw readying himself for the tantrum that was bound to follow his reply.

“Stannis!” Renly called out upon seeing his elder brother at the door, “you’re early!” he added with joy.

“Yes.” Started Stannis, not quite sure how to continue, “Renly, I’ve something to tell you,” he paused again to kneel on one knee and be of a height with Renly.

Gravely he started again “Renly I’ve come to tell you-“

“It’s Robert isn’t it, Stannis, he’s changed his mind again hasn’t he?” said Renly despondently sitting back down on the floor and hugging Pavae , the most sorrowful looking puppy Stannis had ever seen.

“Well I don’t care anyway” Renly grumbled with a pout as Pavae flitted to a black fawn, glaring at Stannis.

“That is not what I came to tell you Renly” though he couldn’t be sure that Renly would not be proven right, “you must learn to listen before interrupting.”

It did not have the same heat as Stannis’ normal scoldings, Renly looked up at his brother curiously.

“Pyetaes and I have settled”

“But Pyetaes, a bird?” Renly questioned, looking between Stannis and Pyetaes.

“An osprey” Pyetaes corrected, hopping down from Stannis’ shoulder and allowing Renly and Pavae a closer look.  Pavae sniffed carefully around and inspected Pyetaes wings as she stretched them out, as an osprey chick Pavae copied, though her wings were more down than feathers for flying.

“Not a doe like Robert?”

“I’m not Robert, Renly” replied Stannis simply.

For the second time that day Stannis had found himself returning a hug.

“I’m glad you’re not Robert, Stannis”    

As Pavae danced around as a bumbling osprey chick Pyetaes looked over to Stannis and gave what for an osprey could have been a smile.

“No Renly, you must wait here. “

“Robert would have let me, he-“

Renly’s preference for his brother that was not Robert left almost as quickly as it had arrived. 

“He would want me there riding out to him,” Renly was momentarily distracted by the arrival of Maester Cressen and Great Uncle Harbert.

“Uncle!  Uncle! Stannis won’t let me greet Robert!  Won’t you take me with you?”  

Renly ran towards his great uncle and pulled on his arm insistently.  The old man looked down at Renly fondly but didn’t say anything, it was Maester Cressen who intervened.

“Now Renly, your brother is right, it would be better for you to greet your brother here-“

“But Cresseeeen” Renly began to whine.

“It looks to rain Renly, it would be a terrible shame for your new clothes to get muddied and ruined” said Blaenori, with a scheming gleam in her beady black eye.  Normally Stannis did not care for such pandering to Renly’s personality, but he did not have the patience to continue with the fuss that Renly was causing.

“Uncle, are the others ready to ride out?”

“They are”

Stannis gave a nod and headed towards the stables, he did not make a backwards glance till saddled and riding out the castle accompanied by Baratheon knights and his Uncle, Pyetaes did.

“The maester said you’d settled Stannis?”

Stannis looked up momentarily from his  desk and accounts he’d been reading over, he’d not sought out his uncle to tell him of his settling, he’d reasoned the news would reach him soon enough.  Clearly he’d not been mistaken.

“Yes Uncle.”

“Hmm.  I’d always wondered…”  Harbert trailed off.

“…Proudwing” Taetryka his daemon, a greyish caribou finished for him. 

Pyetaes did not twitch, or turn her head from the view of the window, she did not move at all.  Stannis stopped moving entirely before replying, “Pyetaes is an osprey, a marked difference from a goshawk.”

“Aye”

Stannis did not look up again, there was nothing else to say.

Chapter Text

 Aestra hovered above Lord Arryn as they travelled towards Storm’s End, either side of him rode his wards, Lord Robert Baratheon with Erakundea and Eddard Stark with Daekuris; the four legged daemons matching the horses  in both size and speed.  Following were knights of the Vale with their daemons, an assortment of hounds and mountain goats and the odd bird of prey.

The party from Storm’s End and the Vale met and for a moment there was silence as the two raptors circled down off the updrafts to rest upon their partners’ shoulder. 

“Lord Baratheon, won’t you introduce us to your kin and men?” Lord Arryn prompted.

“Aye” replied Robert, smiling and unnecessarily pulling upon the reigns of his steed, “Lord Arryn, Ned, my brother Stannis Baratheon and Pyetaes and my Great-Uncle Ser Harbert and Taetryka and our sworn men.”  With a hand flourish this time he continued “Stannis, Lord Arryn and Aestra of the Vale, Eddard Stark and Daekuris of Winterfell.”

“Stannis, we’ve heard much about the work you’ve been doing in your brother’s stead and caring for your younger brother Renly”

Stannis grits his teeth and nods, he’s Robert’s brother too.  But he leaves that unsaid and accepts the comment in silence, he turns to his brother instead “We’d best continue Robert, the others await your arrival and our guests must be tired.”

“I should hope not!  I have much to show you Ned!”  Robert boomed, grinning widely he nudged Erakundea and winked, as he began to riding away he shouted “A race to the castle!”

Hardly missing a beat Ned shouted back “You have no honour Baratheon!” But there was no anger in his voice and Stannis could hear laughter from both Ned and his daemon as they chased after Robert.  Stannis turned to Lord Arryn, wondering what the man was thinking, he had little doubt that this was a common occurrence, but it was remiss of Robert to not escort his guest for the remainder of the journey.  Surely Lord Arryn had taught him better?

But Lord Arryn was smiling fondly, noticing Stannis he tilted his head towards Robert and Ned, as if to give Stannis permission to race after Robert also.

Flushing he turned sharply on his horse, causing Pyetaes to sway perilously and clench her talons in much the same was Stannis was clenching his teeth, his look had been so completely misunderstood.

“Shall we continue Lord Arryn?” Stannis asked, though more out of duty than any real courtesy.

“Aye, it’d be welcome to visit your home Storm’s End once again.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice that Stannis did not understand.

Stannis nodded and set off, gaining speed once Pyetaes had left his shoulder,  a part of him acknowledged the petty rudeness of the pace he’d set.  It was not especially hard for the horses but was too fast to hold conversation comfortably, though he could tell from Pyetaes eye that she did not necessarily approve a greater part of both of them acknowledged that it was probably for the best.   They had learnt that no conversation was a marked improvement upon empty platitudes and chatter that most people offered and most people preferred nothing to be said than the sullen words Stannis found himself offering.

As they arrived in the courtyard Stannis could hear squeals of delight from Renly as Robert swung him round in circles.  He dismounted easily, handed the reins to the stable-hand and waited a moment for Pyetaes to settle upon his shoulder, she dug her talons into his shoulder momentarily causing him to notice again his unconscious clenching of his jaws.  It was painful, his jaw muscles were sore from the tension of the day that was barely half over, his hand rose to massage the muscles-

Stannis remembered himself at the last moment, Cressen was in view and it would not do to earn another chastisement over this, instead he took the chance to tug off his riding gloves with his teeth.  He could feel the vibrations of Pyetaes silent laughter, smiling he tucked the gloves into his belt, it was hard to frown when Pyetaes was merry.

“He missed you both, he spoke of you often, though I know he writes little, but your brother is no great scholar Stannis” Jon Arryn said standing beside Stannis.

Shocked out of his thoughts he turned to Lord Arryn and found himself being studied closely by Aestra a peregrine falcon daemon, he took an element of perverse pride in the fact that Pyetaes though not quite as sleek was considerably larger than Aestra.  Though he knew Pyetaes’ stare was confronting to many it did not quite prepare him for the pits of pure black that Aestra had for eyes, he opened his mouth to reply but found no words-

“Lord Arryn, may I present to you my brother Renly Baratheon!  And his daemon Pavae!”

Robert came bounding over with Renly upon his shoulders, he launched Renly off and placed him in front of Lord Arryn with aplomb.

“My lord, it is an honour to have you as a guest in our home” Renly said solemnly with a bow. Lord Arryn returned it amused, “It is an honour to be welcomed here, Lord Renly”.

Renly giggled then squealed as before when Robert mussed his hair and carried Renly on his shoulders once more.

“Come my friends” said Robert in his voice that boomed and commanded respect “let us break bread in the great hall together”.

For a moment seeing Robert walk ahead with Erakundea by his side, the clip clop of her hooves echoing around, Stannis saw his father and Koroaena again.  But the thought left as quickly as it came and all Stannis was left with as he tailed behind the procession was the mixture of relief and disappointment that Robert had not yet mentioned Pyetaes.

Perhaps he has not even noticed?

It would not surprise him.

Chapter Text

“Ah, here we are home again, the Great Hall Ned, isn’t it grand?  Won’t Lyanna love it?” Robert looks to Ned grinning, he has no consideration except for the affirmative.

“Aye” replies Ned, his grin not so wide and Daekuris wags her tail softly from side to side, try as she might there is wariness for all to see.

Seated in the Great Hall they sit and eat, Ned and Robert regaling Renly with their adventures in the Vale though it’s clear to Pyetaes that it’s Ned and Daekuris carefully steering the conversation to topics suitable for a boy of five.  Uncle Harbert listens in, but mostly speaks to Lord Arryn and Maester Cressen regarding the matters of the Valelands and Stormlands, local politics and the like.  Stannis listens to both conversations without comment, there is distraction though in Aestra, he refuses to watch her as he feels her watching him, studying him and Pyetaes. 

“An osprey?” Aestra says finally, but to Pyetaes not Stannis and she says it quietly as though she’d rather not draw the attention of those around.

Looking down at his plate he watches the interaction from the edge of his vision, Nori too has taken an interest, though Cressen and Lord Arryn both appear to be absorbed in their conversations.  The raptors had both hopped onto the table now, with the exception of Pavae the daemons of the room were watching the interaction as the two raptors sized each other up.

“Aye” Pyetaes replies softly but firmly, she stretches to her full height and spread her wings dwarfing Aestra.  There’s an element of theatrics that Stannis does not care for, he catches her eye and raises an eyebrow.

What game do you play Pyetaes?

She looks back with a smirk in her eyes.

Why I stretch my wings, that is all.

“Is there to be a celebration to mark your nameday Stannis?  Seventeen is it not?”  Lord Arryn asks, interrupting Stannis from his daemon watching.

“There is to be a feast in two days, marking the return of Robert, that is celebration enough.”  Stannis replies curtly.  He spies Blaenori giving him a look, but he ignores it, he thinks speaks to the man no more or less sharply than he would to anyone else.

Lord Arryn, makes a face, opening his mouth to speak again he pauses, it perhaps would not be his places to question the rituals of another family.  He shifts uncomfortably under the serious gaze of such a green boy; to be saved by the brother.

Robert had turned to conversation at the mention of his name, “Stannis, brother, where is your Baratheon pride?  Greeting our guests as a bird.” He tsks in mock chastisement. “Come, Pyetaes a caribou if you would, let us show Ned what tourney looks between two fully grown caribou, a real Baratheon battle!”

The table fell silent, all turning to Stannis as they awaited his reply.  Cressen looked about to intervene, but Stannis spoke first.

“You would think Pyetaes fully grown and yet unsettled?” He looks at Robert as though bored with the conversation, or at least he’d hoped that that was the impression he gave.  He had hoped to tell his brother the next morn, with fewer witnesses, with less wine clouding his brother’s mind.

“Aye, aye” Robert turns to Ned “Stannis is like you Ned he cares little for games.  But come now, but a moment of your time Stannis and I see you’ve finished your meal.”  Robert stands and Erakunda readies herself already prancing around the table.

He moves to Stannis and places a heavy hand on his brother’s shoulder, “you can return to the bird later, don’t be stubborn Stannis.” The annoyance in Robert’s voice is steadily increasing.

“Pyetaes is an osprey” Renly corrects with a grin, so pleased he is to offer this knowledge.

  “Osprey, bird, it matters not, our sigil Stannis, that is what I expect of you, perhaps if Pyetaes spent longer as it she might actually settle.”

There was a sharp intake of breath before silence fell this time, Stannis made a note of the serving girl, clearly a reminder of the appropriate etiquette was required for her. 

Standing and shrugging off Robert’s hand Stannis stretched out his arm for Pyetaes to land on, he looked to Robert and Erakundea.  Her warm eyes saw it, he could tell that the whole room knew but his brother who was standing before him, impatience in his eyes.

“Pyetaes is an osprey.  We are settled.”  Stannis thinks in the silent hall he can hear the words echo off the stone walls, it does not help him as he stands opposite the brother who is still taller and still broader.

And then Robert smiles, he grins broadly and Stannis fears he will have to endure another hug, but then he laughs, loudly and drunkenly.  Stannis almost wishes he could look at his brother with the open disappointment that all the others at the table hold, but he grits his teeth and his lips form a thin line as he stares back impassive.  He catches the eye of Eddard Stark and Daekuris, they look at him with sympathy and sorrow, as though they understand the feelings he suffers.

How could they know?  When he is the brother chosen and I am the one inflicted.

He knows he’s flushing now, he can feel the angry burn upon his face.

“I left and you had no humour at all Stannis, what jokes are these that you’ve been teaching yourself?  What strange humour have you learnt from your books?” Robert asks, wiping the tears from his eyes.

He is thankful to have been seated so close the door, he rationalises his next decision telling himself he had eaten anyway, he was done with the meal and there were matters to attend to.  Robert was here now, but there was little chance that he would actually become involved in the running of Storm’s End during such a short stay.  No, Robert would meet and greet the lords, promising them his concern and consideration, listening to their qualms though leaving Stannis to solve them.

Yes, he had plenty to justify leaving the guests, Robert’s guests.

“I have matters to attend to, excuse me” he addresses the table as is expected of him.  He turns to Robert more quietly he says “then perhaps you knew me better then, brother, for I do not jest.”

He turns on his heel and leaves, the gears of Robert’s wine addled brain sluggishly processing the words.  Erakundea pushes Robert’s arm over her neck, she comforts him, they know it’s a blunder not easily fixed.

It’s Nori who breaks the silence with a cackling caw, the only one to apparently appreciate the obvious double-meaning to Stannis’ words.  Cressen can only hold his head in his hands and beg the gods to guide these fatherless boys better than he has done.

Chapter Text

He stands in front of the godswood and finds himself wondering what it is that the northerners see in the tree and its grotesque carved faces.  The tree leaves rustle as a light breeze blows.  He knows the faith of the seven, how the people go to the statues and pray, muttering their words to stone hoping for their prayers to be answered.  Whilst the northerners sit under a tree and wait for a reply, a sign that the gods have heard, that they care.

Pyetaes stands on his shoulder and they share the moment, they know that this requires no discussion.

Because it’s all words and wind.  Wind and words.  It changes nothing.

“Lyanna will be grateful I think to see something of the north in Storm’s End.”

Stannis turns sharply and as he sees Eddard Stark, he chastises himself, feeling as though he’s intruding upon a private space and for failing to notice the arrival of the other man. 

The heart tree had arrived shortly following the entourage from the Vale, men had worked through afternoon and the night to plant the tree.  Robert had decided upon its placement, the “most perfect spot for a Godswood” and wanted it planted as soon as possible to give it the best chance to grow and prosper in its new home.  Stannis had not spoken to anyone but Pyetaes since the previous day’s meal and he had not expected anyone but servants to be up and about yet, he was not sure if he was ready for conversation.

“Robert chose a good spot, I think it will grow well.” Eddard Stark says thoughtfully as he comes to stand beside him.

“Is it much like the ones you know?” Pyetaes asks.

Stark cocks his head looking at the tree and thinks, “Smaller.” he says finally. 

Stannis grunts, “Do your gods care for size?” he asks drily, and Ned thinks there is almost humour in his voice.

“No more than yours” Ned replies with a smile and Daekuris gives a happy wag, happy to have brought what passes for cheer to Stannis’ face; it does not last.

“I have no gods” Stannis spits out the words with distaste.

Ned turns to him crestfallen.

How hard it is to have a conversation with one so prickly.

Robert had spoken to him of his studious yet dull and humourless brother who would always disapprove and correct Robert in everything, despite being younger and smaller and weaker.  Every duel, every challenge, had proven this.

“He always resented being second born, I know it Ned.  He thinks when the time comes for me to be lord he would do a better job of it.”

“You’re already a lord” Ned had replied.

“Aye” said Robert giving Ned a look to show he knew Ned was deliberately misunderstanding.

“It’s not easy to be second born Robert, there’s no laid down path, no role to follow, no castle or keep to inherit.” He looks at Robert adding with a wry smile “no maidens throwing themselves at you, or Lords hoping for you to ask their daughter to dance”.

At this Robert chuckles, “you’d be too shy to ask Ned.”

“I don’t deny it.”  And he pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts, because he is not Stannis and Robert is not Brandon but there are parallels there that he can see in a way that Robert seems blind to. “But, Robert I don’t mind, I know that there will always be a home for me in the North should I want it.  A set of choice land would be set aside for me and my wife should I find one and I will have a home to call my own.  My father has spoken of it to Brandon and myself.”

“It would not be Winterfell though” Robert interrupts.

Ned nods but continues “Or I could join the Night’s Watch, or travel the world, become a maester.” He gives a sigh and so does Daekuris for none of these things appeal greatly. “I’ve always known that Winterfell was not to be my home, that it belongs to Brandon and his children.  But I’ve not had to live there these past years and I have friends beyond family, friends who are family.”

“Unlike Stannis you mean?”

“Unlike Stannis” Ned agrees, hoping that Robert can see the point he is trying to make.

“He has Renly, and our Great Uncle Harbert and Maester Cressen…he’s got the whole of Storm’s End at his beck and call Ned.  His letters write of how he’s sorted the accounts, how the lands are going, the disputes between the people, the ‘important’ petitions he’s listened to and sorted.”  It was Robert’s turn to sigh, “It’s always been a competition between us Ned, you love your brother, I’ve seen you together.  But I would think that mine does not love me, and don’t refute me when you haven’t met him.  We are too different.”

He’d asked about Stannis’ daemon then, he was almost sixteen and Robert had told him not yet settled. 

Still a child.  He’d thought, though he himself had settled when he was near fourteen and was considered a man. Robert conceded then that Stannis noted all his decisions were made alongside their Great Uncle the castellan and the accounts were reviewed by the maester.  Robert had thrust his brother’s letter in Ned’s face before going down to the kitchens, “This conversation bores me Ned, read his missive and come find me when you too have had enough of his words.”

He’d read the letter and found contrary to Robert’s impressions, though it did not surprise him, that Stannis was not boasting, he merely stated facts and matters that would likely concern the Lord of Storm’s End.  Because they were not Stannis’ people, they were Robert’s, his friend failed to see that.  And with an unsettled daemon there was not a chance of him holding court alone, his Uncle and the Maester Cressen were there to guide every decision.  The oddest  thing about the letter was the lack of self-reference, he spoke of Renly and his education and the boy added his own few words at the bottom (in a script that so reminded Ned of Benjen’s letters) but there was nothing about himself.  Aside from the closing remark, ‘the household is well’.

Until the preparations for the visit to Storm’s End, Robert’s brother was not mentioned again.

“I did not mean to cause offense.” Ned offered apologetically to the man he’d only known through another.

“There is no apology required.”  Answered Pyetaes whilst her other half appeared intent to ignore.

“Good-day Stark” Stannis said stiffly, his eyes focussing more on Daekuris as he gave a small nod and departed. 

“Good-day Stannis” Ned replied politely, noticing the strange mixture of want and sorrow in Stannis’ eyes when he looked at Daekuris, Pyetaes though, she looked even as the taller man walked away.  But whatever was in her eyes, he could not decipher.

It was nearing six moons that Ned had been at the Eyrie when he and Daekuris first saw snow falling.  He’d been getting on well with the other boy Robert Baratheon from the Stormlands, only fourteen but a Lord and a man already.  He had no envy though and this man was to be his good brother when his sister wed. 

Boisterous and full of charm he reminded Ned of Brandon.

He’d never admit it to Lord Arryn, but for all the joy and adventures with his foster brother he’d been feeling homesick.  The pack survives, but the lone wolf…

Daekuris leant against him as they sat in the snow near the godswood, she gave him warmth through her thick fur though he enjoyed a little chill, and they knew.  They knew as they listened to the rustle of the leaves that they were settled.

A Stark and his direwolf.