A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of Arc 5! Stannis Baratheon is suffering.
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"So… you fly now."
His nephew has the good grace to adopt an apologetic smile, as though acknowledging the ridiculousness of the statement. But then, of course, he pushes off the ground… and doesn't come back down. Stannis Baratheon can only inhale sharply as he watches the King of the Seven Kingdoms float in the air before him with no signs of mummery, at least as far as can be seen with the naked eye.
"Yep. I fly now."
To be fair, Stannis had already known as much. It was just that seeing was believing, as some liked to say. Still, even if he didn't want to believe the rumors… it was practically impossible for Axel to even BE in King's Landing at this point without the ability to fly… and fly fast at that.
After all, the only men to have made it back to King's Landing from the war against the Ironborn so far were those who had quite literally left the islands the day after the fighting was over. Pretty much everyone else was still in transit. Meanwhile, every missive, every letter, every snippet of information that Stannis received had pointed to Axel still being on the Iron Islands where he'd been laying down the law for the past three or so weeks.
Indeed, for all intents and purposes, today was the day the young King was supposed to LEAVE the Iron Islands… and supposedly it still was. He just flew fast enough that traveling the width of Westeros took hours instead of weeks.
Coming back down, Axel settles his feet back on the ground with that same apologetic smile.
"I'm sure you have questions for me, Uncle. Please, just ask and I will answer to the best of my abilities."
Stannis Baratheon is a man who has always prided himself on maintaining his poise and composure. But damn if he doesn't find himself letting out a shuddering breath at that. Finally, he asks the most pressing question on his mind.
"Just how strong are you really, Your Grace? Because the tales say that you not only killed Euron Greyjoy's Kraken singlehandedly… you threw the corpse through the air all the way to Pyke where it was later seen impaled upon the castle's tallest tower."
He wants Axel to deny it, to say the stories are overblown and exaggerated… but somehow, Stannis isn't surprised when the young King merely nods slowly in response.
"That… is what happened, yes. As for how strong I really am, I don't actually know. Strong enough to kill the Kraken singlehandedly. And strong enough to kill a Sea Dragon as well, apparently."
What? Stannis opens his mouth to say that Sea Dragons aren't real… they're just legends and myths after all. Fortunately, he just manages to hold the words back and not make a fool of himself. Myths? Legends? He's standing before a man who can survive a blast of wildfire, fight a sea monster a hundred times his size, and fly. Nothing is out of the question anymore.
Suddenly feeling older than he's ever felt before, Stannis lets out a deep, weary sigh.
"May I… may I take a seat, Your Grace?"
Axel nods, gesturing towards the table and joining him as Stannis sits down in a chair. He's always considered himself a strong, capable man. But by the Seven, this is all a bit much. In the end… in the end, Stannis just shakes his head.
"Have you been to speak to the High Septon yet?"
Blinking at the question, having clearly been expecting something else, Axel slowly nods.
"… I have, yes. He'll be announcing the wedding tomorrow morning in a special sermon. He seemed confident that nobody would complain about me marrying both Sansa and Arianne at this point."
An uncharacteristic snort of derision manages to escape Stannis at that, causing Axel to eye him strangely. No, Stannis doesn't expect anyone WILL complain at this point. What's the King marrying two women instead of one in the face of everything he's done before now? Frankly, he could have probably declared his intentions to have two Queens before going off to war against Euron and it still wouldn't have mattered.
Besides all that, the Faith have been preaching more and more about Axel's divine backing. He is the beloved Champion of the Seven, or so they proclaim. More recently, upon hearing how he fought against Euron's Kraken, they've started calling him the Avatar of the Warrior as well.
Zealotry is on the rise, all of it centered around the younger man sitting in front of him. There are more and more people who worship the ground that Axel walks on by the day, in fact. Literally as the case may be, given what Stannis has heard about the path the King took to the Great Sept back when he was burning.
The only saving grace was that Axel was no tyrant. He was a good man, thankfully, and it seemed like most of his more devout followers were doing their best to live by his example. Didn't stop them from being worryingly devoted to the King. At this point, Axel Baratheon might just be the most beloved King that Westeros had ever seen…
Putting such things out of his mind and getting himself under control, Stannis grunts.
"Shall we discuss the possible replacements to the Small Council, my King?"
Axel frowns at that, narrowing his eyes at the sudden change in topic.
"Truly? You don't have any other questions to ask me, Uncle?"
But Stannis just shakes his head.
"I imagine you will tell me if it's anything important."
Because… for the sake of his sanity, Stannis had just decided that he really needed to keep his focus to things he could actually do something about. He needed to focus on the things he could actually understand. Otherwise, he was fairly certain he would not be a very effective Hand of the King for much longer. Too much worrying about things he couldn't control would only serve to fray his mind further.
Axel continues to look at him for a long moment, and just for a split second Stannis fears that he really is going to tell him something else that will once again shake his entire worldview. But finally, the young King simply nods instead.
"Alright. Then yes, let's talk the Small Council. I assume you sent a letter to the Citadel. Have they made a decision by now or are they still dragging their feet?"
Getting back on familiar ground, Stannis is glad to be able to offer some news on that front. Whether it's good or not…
"The Conclave of Archmaesters has indeed met at this point and elected a Grandmaester, who is said to be on his way to King's Landing now."
Stannis hesitates, but at seeing Axel lift a brow in response, he forges onward.
"The Grandmaester they chose is Archmaester Marwyn. Apparently, some call him Marwyn the Mage…"
The young King's brow furrows in consternation.
"Marwyn the Mage, huh?"
"Indeed… he's apparently the Archmaester of the Higher Mysteries… otherwise known as magic. He wields a rod of Valyrian Steel and has a ring and mask made of the stuff as well. From what I've been able to discern, the rest of the Citadel doesn't think much of him. I'm not sure if his appointment as Grandmaester is meant to be an insult or a warning."
That draws a snort from Axel, as well as a shake of the head.
"Does it matter which? I won't lie, while I didn't mind the Maester up in the Eyrie, Pycelle proved to be a complete waste of space. Truth be told, he's the only man Baelish killed that I find myself losing little sleep over."
Stannis is forced to incline his head in acknowledgment of that point. After all, he knew his histories. Grandmaesters were usually appointed to their position at an older age. But Grandmaester Pycelle's appointment had come after a string of three older Grandmaesters who had lasted barely any time at all. The King at the time, Aegon V, had suggested that the Archmaesters in the Conclave appoint someone younger.
Unfortunately, that had left them with Grandmaester Pycelle, who after being appointed to the role at only forty two, had gone on to live for more than forty years more. He'd survived four kings and served five before Baelish finally ended his miserable life alongside Jon Arryn and Varys the Spider.
Pycelle was an excellent example of a man who had been allowed to keep his position for much, much too long. Axel seemed to be implying that any man had to be an improvement on what they'd had before at this point, and Stannis found himself in general agreement. Besides…
"In the end, it's their choice regardless, I suppose. Though I imagine that nobody would gainsay you if you decided he wasn't working out. Not at this point."
Axel just smirks in response and Stannis makes a point of moving on quickly.
"Next is a position we actually have some control over. My replacement for the role of Master of Laws. I have considered a great many men for the role, but my personal recommendation would be Ser Beric Dondarrion, Lord of Blackhaven and House Dondarrion. He is a Stormlander, and one who has proven to be an honorable sort."
That gets a curious look from Axel.
"Oh? Did he not follow your brother into battle?"
Stannis sighs, knowing exactly which brother the King is talking about.
"He… did bend the knee to Renly, yes. However, he found excuses to not march with the main host on King's Landing, staying behind and serving as a deterrent against opportunistic bandits in the Stormlands. He has also proven to be of great help to me in these last several months as it came to dealing with other, more defiant Lords of my new Paramouncy."
Axel's gaze sharpens at that.
"Defiant… nothing you need my help with, presumably?"
Shaking his head, Stannis feels the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly in grim satisfaction.
"No, Your Grace. I have it well under control. None are foolish enough to take up arms or anything like that. It is the small things that they try to get away with that I have had to root out and put an end to. In that regard, Lord Beric has proven to be a cut above the rest. That is why I consider him the best candidate for Master of Laws."
He pauses here though, before clearing his throat.
"… However, I have other names as well, especially if you would rather not concentrate so much power in the Stormlands. I would understand and therefore recommend-"
"No. Beric Dondarrion will do just fine."
When Stannis blinks in surprise at Axel's certainty, the young King just chuckles.
"Why should I care too much about whether my Small Council is lopsided or not? I'm a Baratheon, aren't I? It makes sense for a Baratheon Small Council to have more lords from the Stormlands than elsewhere."
And then Axel grimaces.
"… Besides, I've already decided who the new Master of Coin will be. And I don't want you to be too angry with me over it so let's call this a compromise, shall we?"
Wait, what? Stannis furrows his brow, caught off guard by the change of pace. He had worked to make a list of possible candidates for Master of Coin just as he had for Master of Laws. From the sound of things, that list was being thrown out the window, however. He didn't really mind that much, even if it was irritating to have all that work wasted. But exactly who did Axel think would make him so angry?
"Who will be the new Master of Coin, my King?"
Axel winces at Stannis' tone, which only makes the Hand frown harder. There were only a few options that would really-
"Tyrion Lannister will be the new Master of Coin, Uncle."
Stannis' mind goes blank for a moment at that. Then, he scowls angrily.
"I would advise most strongly against that appointment, Your Grace. Not just because of the troubles you've had with House Lannister throughout these early days of your reign, but also because of the Imp's own reputation as a whoremonger and a drunk. To say nothing of House Lannister's propensity for… scheming in general."
Unfortunately, while Axel does look apologetic… he's also shaking his head before Stannis is even done talking.
"I knew you would object, but at least hear me out. First and foremost… I've managed to force Tywin Lannister to forgive the rest of our debt to his House with this appointment."
That… gives Stannis pause. After all, from what he knew that was around a million golden dragons. No small sum. Still…
"Furthermore, I've spoken to Tyrion myself twice. For all that he is half a man, he is not without his intelligence and wit. I don't think he's quite the waste of space that you think him to be and I find myself curious to see what he can do with this opportunity."
Stannis opens his mouth, prepared to tell his nephew exactly what Tyrion could do with this opportunity and all the damage that the dwarf could cause if allowed to run amok. However, he's cut off as Axel continues on.
"As well, he's well aware that he's on a short leash, Uncle. I'm not just going to let him run amok like Jon did with Baelish all those years. The plan is to give Tyrion just enough rope to either start climbing out of the hole his predecessor left the position in… or hang himself and save us the trouble."
Hm. That certainly didn't sound quite as bad…
"To that end, he will be reporting to you regularly, especially early on. And you can assign Lord Beric to keep an eye on him as well if you like. I fully intend to do the same from my own end, because I refuse to let another Petyr Baelish ever happen again."
Well now. Perhaps Stannis had misjudged this maneuver at first. Getting the debt to House Lannister cleared in exchange for an appointment where the black sheep of their family would almost certainly screw up and get himself sent back to Casterly Rock in disgrace in no time was… quite masterful.
"… Very well, Your Grace. It will be as you say. Tyrion Lannister will be given the chance to prove himself… one way or another."
Axel chuckles at the dark tone Stannis takes. Then, he sighs.
"I don't suppose you've found a new Spymaster to replace Varys yet, have you?"
Here, Stannis is forced to grimace, angry at himself for his failure.
"I have not. I'm afraid such a thing is not in my skillset. Perhaps when Davos returns with the Royal Fleet, he can help me with the task. His days as a smuggler might serve him well. Then again… that was also over twenty years ago."
Before Axel was even born, it goes unsaid. And yet, not unheard given the way that the young King huffs in dry amusement.
"Very well. It's worth a shot anyways. Then again, it's not like every court has had a Master of Whispers, right? It's something of an… optional position, isn't it?"
Stannis hesitates before finally nodding. Truthfully, he'd always despised Varys and everything he did. Maybe they didn't need a Master of Whispers after all. Especially with the amount of personal power Axel had. Who would dare to plot against him once word spread about just how strong he truly was? The man was… invulnerable!
Silence falls for a moment before Stannis remembers the other thing they need to discuss.
"Ah, going back to the wedding, Your Grace. There is the matter of how you want to pay for it. I know you're focused on paying down the Crown's debts and I am in full support of shrinking the tourneys to far below the ludicrous prizes that Robert always offered. However, when it comes to your wedding… to be stingy might get you in hot water with more than just the unwashed masses or the nobility…"
Axel chuckles as he catches Stannis' meeting.
"You mean my darling brides might take it personally if I don't throw them the most lavish, extravagant special day imaginable?"
Sighing, Stannis nods his head.
"Women are… fickle creatures, Your Grace."
Grinning, Axel nods right back.
"Don't I know it. Still, you needn't worry Lord Hand. I told you I spoke with the High Septon, didn't I? One of the things we spoke about was the wedding. Waiting until word of my exploits in the Iron Islands to announce me taking two Queens has had… more benefits than I could ever imagine."
Oh? Was he really saying what Stannis thought he was saying? Axel's grin widens.
"When I mentioned to the High Septon that I might keep the wedding small given how much debt the Crown still owed… he said that simply wouldn't do. As such the Faith of the Seven agreed to foot the bill for the entire wedding. And I got the impression that they aren't going to be holding back even a little bit."
No, Stannis imagined they wouldn't. Not when they were already whispering that Axel Baratheon might just be the Avatar of the Warrior at this point.
Well then. It seemed this was going to be a wedding to remember…
-x-X-x-
A/N: Next time, the wedding at long last! And of course, the wedding night~
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