Obara IV
Obara held onto her saddle and wondered if she'd heard Renly correctly. "You want to marry me?"
"You don't want to marry me?" asked Renly from beside her horse, sounding hurt.
"I never thought of it. I'm a bastard," she reminded him. "And you're a prince."
"So is your father."
Obara sighed. "My mother was a whore, Renly. Your brother would be furious. You're a good man and I care for you, but it cannot be."
"I've written to him already."
It was more than ten years since Obara had last fallen off a horse but she felt less steady now than she had been when she was nine and tried a jump that neither she nor her mount had been ready for. She'd been lucky it was her leg and not the horse's that broke. "What did he say?"
"That's why you're invited." Renly beamed up at her. "He wants to meet you, formally."
Obara hadn't been there when Quentyn had been executed but Arianne had told her about it. She wondered if Robert had brought the sword with him to the wall. It was clearly too late to run away though. "I can't help but feel he may not be as happy about this as you..." She broke off. "As we hope."
Renly's face lit up and Obara felt something melt inside. She'd heard maidens in King's Landing claim that the Baratheon brothers shared the same blue eyes but she'd never seen it. King Robert's eyes were veiled and Prince Stannis' eyes were fixed. Renly's eyes seemed to sparkle in comparison. "Don't worry. Robert won't mind about your parentage."
"That isn't entirely true, but I suppose you aren't entirely wrong either."
They looked up and Obara saw Robert standing in the doorway, flanked by a dark-haired girl-child and a fat boy in Baratheon livery. The king beckoned to them. "Welcome to Oakenshield, Lady Obara. And welcome back, brother."
Obara dropped to one knee, mind still trying to assess just how much trouble she was in. Her father would either be very pleased or utterly enraged. On the other hand, he was thousands of miles away. Robert Baratheon was right here.
"Brother." Renly took Obara's hand and drew her up. "May I present to you my betrothed."
The king's eyes narrowed. "I would be glad if you would both join me in my solar."
Renly paled slightly. "Of course."
Robert turned and walked back into the keep. The boy followed him but the girl - Obara recognised her now as the king's daughter Cassana - descended the steps and hugged Renly, burying her face against her uncle's chest and then turning to look at Obara appraisingly.
"My goodness, princess, did you miss me?"
Cassana nodded, eyes not leaving Obara.
"You know, if you hug my betrothed like this, you might be able to feel your new cousin inside her."
"Renly!" Obara exclaimed. "I'm not so far along as that."
"I stand corrected." Renly peeled Cassana's arms from around him with clearly practised ease. "Is your father very angry with me?"
The girl shrugged. "It was funny at first. He didn't believe the first message and thought someone was japing. Then when Lady Olenna wrote to him he went up the Wall with Ser Mandon. Apparently he walked almost halfway to Woodswatch before turning back."
Renly winced.
"Is that good or bad?" asked Obara.
"Father says he does his best thinking when he's walking," explained Cassana.
A Night's Watch brother emerged from the keep. "Prince Renly," he said with a smile. "You may not have heard but your brother bellowed something about how he told you to come to his solar...?" He held the door and made a sweeping bow.
"Ser Mance," replied Renly.
"I've not been knighted," the man replied cheerfully as they went past him. "Although I'm told it might give me more credibility in the south."
Renly gave him a surprised look. "You're going south?"
"Father appointed him to the Small Council," Cassana explained.
"I'm to represent the Lord Commander there for a year or two." The man bowed slightly to Lady Obara. "Mance Rayder, at your service."
"Obara Sand," she replied automatically and offered her hand.
He clasped it, wrist to wrist, as was the fashion here in the north. "Who else could you be?" His smile grew merry. "Though if I may counsel you, my lady, do bear your child further south lest you find him wrapped in black and swearing the oath before a heartstree."
"Isn't that how marriages are done here."
"It's also how northerners swear themselves to the Night's Watch," Renly told her. "Southerners do so in a Sept, I believe?"
"By whatever they hold holy," Rayder told them as they reached the top of the stairs. He knocked on the door. "Your grace, your brother and Lady Obara are here."
The door opened and the squire emerged. "Cassana," called the king. "Samwell will be tutoring you on your numbers today. Stay with him while I talk to your uncle."
The girl made a face. "Yes daddy."
"And don't pout. Knowing your numbers is important."
Inside the chamber, despite the fire, it was still cold. The door closed behind Obara with the finality of the Stranger's hand.
Robert glared at her and then at Renly. "Moon tea? You have heard of it?"
"That was my fault, your grace," Obara admitted. "It's hard to get near the Wall, particularly at the abandoned forts, so I was drinking it sparingly to try to make it last. I must have have thinned it too much."
"Hmm." He shook his head. "And while it may work as a preventative, stronger doses afterwards are more dangerous or so I'm told."
"It's not as if you never sired a bastard," Renly complained.
"I'm pleased you intend to take responsibility as the father. It doesn't mean your timing wasn't abysmal. I don't think anyone since Rhaegar has managed to follow his dick into so much trouble."
"You can't stop me from marrying Obara."
The king looked at his brother. "Do you know what Tywin Lannister did when his younger son married someone he disapproved of?"
Renly frowned. "Ser Tyrion is married?"
Robert shifted his gaze to Obara, who swallowed nervously. "I know."
"I thought you would." Robert leant to one side and propped his chin on his fist. "Be very glad I'm not Tywin Lannister." He pushed two letters across the table. "This is for you to sign, Renly. And this is for you, Obara. Unless either of you wishes to reconsider?"
Renly picked up his letter and then passed Obara hers. "A request for a posting to one of the ships of the royal fleet?" he asked.
"You wanted responsibilities," his brother said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Ser Davos will no doubt find you a place."
Obara read her own letter and then put it down on the table. "Legitimization? I don't have an objection but..."
"If your child is a son he'll be fifth in the line of succession to my throne. Making him fifth in succession to your uncle's throne pleases my sense of symmetry."
She counted. "Ah, fourth... Now that Quentyn is..."
Robert's lips curved. "Well, that depends on the legitimacy of your putative cousin in Essos. Feel free to ask your uncle about that."
She spread her hands helplessly as Renly looked at her. "I get the impression I'm not in my family's confidence in a lot of things."
"So do I," admitted Renly and they both signed.
The king nodded. "Subject to Prince Doran's agreement, I'll approve the marriage of Renly Baratheon to Obara Martell. Now, while I'm trying to claw the Westerlands back from the brink of open rebellion, do me the favour of not showing your faces in public. I am sure you'll think of something to do..."
Stannis XIV
There was always a certain degree of discomfort in standing on the wood and iron prothesis that replaced his missing foot. Stannis had learned to ignore it for the most part. He'd also, on Aemma's quiet prodding, learned when it wasn't wise to ignore it.
The hot and muggy weather of late did the stump no favours so it was with some relief he'd withdrawn after breakfast to his study, unstrapped the prothesis and set to work on the letters from King's Landing. He'd probably need to return there once Robert arrived back from the Wall and after a fashion he could almost convince himself to look forward to cool sea breezes and overlook the other faults of the city.
Perhaps Robert would relocate court to Storm's End for a few months instead? No, not after an extended absence.
Setting aside the brief moment of whimsey, he checked the baskets that his squires sorted correspondence into. The Byrnbridge matters basket was empty, having been dealt with the day before. There were several letters in the basket for Small Council matters...
And a single letter with the royal seal set at the top of the pile.
Stannis broke the seal and unfolded the letter, scanning it once and then re-reading it carefully. With that done he sat back, profaned the names of every god he could think of and read the letter through once more, fingers tightening on the parchment until it was beginning to tear.
His squire looked around the door and then retreated when Stannis glared at him. He must have fetched Aemma because shortly afterwards she entered the room, closing the door behind her.
"Is there bad news?" she asked, taking one of the two seats facing him across the desk.
He set the letter down. "Robert wishes to decide our son's marriage. He goes so far as to blame this on Renly."
"That seems rather strange."
"He's been planning a Martell marriage for Renly for ten years. He appears to have secured it but now claims it's politically difficult and wishes to balance it by arranging Orys' marriage into another house."
"Why a Martell marriage after they murdered Lord Lannister?"
Stannis shook his head. "Perhaps it is the death of Elia Martell and children. I do not know why he feels he must do that at the expense of our family."
"Is Renly to wed Arianne then?"
"No. Oberyn's oldest girl."
"A bastard?" she said disapprovingly. "No match for a prince. Don't tell me Robert has a similar wife in mind for Orys?"
"Benjen Stark has a daughter."
"A better match," she agreed and then her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh I see."
"You see what?"
"If anything were to happen to Robert and his son, you would be heir and Orys after you. In that event, marrying him to Joanna Stark would secure you an alliance with the Starks and with the Lannisters since the girl's mother is Prince Jaime's sister. Since Jon Arryn is my uncle, the Vale would also be an ally, solidifying three of the kingdoms behind you and Orys."
"If it came to that, then it would be the duty of all seven kingdoms to support myself or Orys."
"And if all lords were in your mould, we could be sure that they would. As it is, with the prospect of your brother's heirs being half-Martell they might feel less loyalty towards Orys than Renly surely does to you. Although, you said that Robert blames this on Renly?"
"Aye. He is but a boy, yet Robert claims that he is allowing the marriage 'despite great personal reservations' to preserve the unity of House Baratheon. Allowing!"
"Well... he is almost seventeen now..." Aemma said thoughtfully. "And... oh dear, this does remind me somewhat of... I don't wish to presume."
"What do you mean?"
"Well Aerys the Mad had his son wed a Martell to reunite his blood with that of the first Daenerys Targaryen, who wed their prince under Daeron's reign. Might Robert want a Martell marriage for the same reason?"
He shook his head. "It makes no sense. Why risk a Dornish puppet-king? Aerys was mad and while my brother is sometimes foolish, he is no madman. And if he wanted that, why not seek a match for Eddard? In fact, why marry off Orys now in place of Eddard? Bind those houses to his line rather than to mine?"
They looked at each other and Stannis saw no answers in Aemma's eyes.
"Only your brother knows," she said at last. "Perhaps you should ask him?"
"And he would trust me now?"
"Play on the Baratheon unity he speaks of. How can you do his will now if you do not know his mind. If he wants your cooperation then for him to answer your questions is not unreasonable."
"He is my king. He knows that he has my obedience."
"It is not disloyalty to to seek your due for that obedience, Stannis." She came around the desk and took his hand. "I know you will allow him to arrange Orys' marriage whether he answers your questions or not. You aren't setting a price on our loyalty if you question him or if you confide to him your own desires."
"My desires?"
"Eddard Stark will take his wife and his new child north once they are safe to travel. It's no secret how uncomfortable he finds the court. Who else would be best to serve as your brother's Hand? But you quarrel with him so much, Robert may think you are unwilling and that he would be making a further imposition to ask it of you?"
"When has Robert ever hesitated to ask a task of me?"
"When have you ever asked him anything?" Her eyes flicked to the prothesis next to his chair. "You have given him so much, why should you not ask - not demand, only ask - something for yourself?"