Chapter 96 - My SI Stash #96 - The Mannis with a Plannis by Digsjin (A song of Ice and Fire)

-American chemist SI as Stannis Baratheon. He'll be using modern chemistry/warfare to make some dangerous chemical gas ala Singed.

*He'll do some big brain moves like having his loyal men take bribes, but having them give mis-information, and he's also learning how to mass produce Wildfire from the Alchemists! Check it out~

( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

Sypnosis: An American chemist is reincarnated into the body of Stannis Baratheon, he explores the new world he finds himself in learning about the 'Higher Mysteries' that his education on earth didn't cover in order to better take advantage of his meta-knowledge and sit on the most uncomfortable chair in Westeros. Stannis SI! Reincarnation.

Rated: M

Words: 51K

Posted on: fanfiction.net/s/13289781/1/The-Mannis-with-a-Plannis

(Digsjin)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 0+1

Steffon I

'The screams are the worst thing', Steffon mused as one of the aforementioned screams assailed his ears and reverberated through the halls of Storm's End. He was a veteran of the War of the Ninepenny Kings and had been on more battlefields than most other men could realistically claim, but hearing his wife screaming and not being able to help was enough to drive him mad. "Damn tradition and the Dragons it rode on to all seven hells", he thought, he'd be fine if he could be in there with his wife. He knew he couldn't actually help her, but holding her hand and seeing how she was doing would've been enough for him, but it was not to be, traditionally men couldn't see their wives giving birth and he had to content himself by seeing the midwives run back and forth, back and forth, carrying various buckets of water, some full, others empty, and sometimes cloth that would later be stained with blood and sweat, a sight that made him internally grimace.

It was bad enough when his first-born Robert had been born, but now it sounded even more like Cassana was trying to excise a demon from her w.o.m.b. It was not only the screams that gave way to such an atmosphere, for one the weather certainly didn't help as his lands were currently playing host to one of the famous storms they were named after, the rain pelting the walls and the rolling of thunder that was occasionally heard aided and abetted in helping to amplify his wife's screams of sheer anguish, he silently sent a prayer to the mother and father thanking them for having been born a man, he doubted he could stomach pain like that, let alone the life that women were expected to lead…

His thoughts were barely enough to keep him distracted from his very real worry that something might go wrong, but they managed to keep him busy enough, since the birthing went on for hours yet, though he had lost track of time by the time that Cressen had walked up to him. He hadn't noticed his approach, and was thus very startled when Cressen had said something that broke him out of his reverie, but it wouldn't do for a Lord to be scared of his Maester so he regained his composure and silently gestured for Cressen to repeat himself, which he did with a soft smile, "Your wife has given birth to a healthy boy my lord and she has requested your presence."

Steffon smiled gratefully and made his way to the chamber in which his wife gave birth, seeing midwives running to and fro now carrying only empty buckets of water, some of their white robes were stained with blood, the thought that it was his wife's made him cringe visibly for a moment, but he ruthlessly suppressed it.

"Steffon…", his beautiful wife said out of breath, her long dark hair was slicked with sweat, which made loose strands of it stick to her face, but Steffon had no eyes for that, more important was the small child she was clutching to her chest, Steffon smiled at her and gestured to pick him up, his wife acquiesced and he preened at the newborn for a moment, "Hello little one.", he said in what he thought was a sweet parental voice and he liked to think his son would hear and understand him, but in truth he was fast asleep.

"What shall we name him?", his wife asked out loud, though Steffon could sense that she already had an idea, one was able to pick up on such things after being married for so long after all, so he'd said, "I already chose for Robert, why don't you pick this time?", his wife smiled at him gratefully and thought for a moment, "How about Stannis?", 'a strong name', Steffon approved and said as much, though he would've wanted to name him Lyonel after his grandfather his wife's uncle was an honorable man himself and Stannis Baratheon had a nice ring to it.

He sat down on the bed next to his wife, both of them were holding their child, just basking in each other's presence for a moment, not saying a word and simply enjoying the moment. The blissful silence was interrupted by a shrill noise that Steffon couldn't quite make out, it definitely wasn't the storm of that much he was entirely sure, he placed his son in his wife's lap, both of them were sleeping peacefully and he took a moment to commit the sight into his memory, such moments were hard to come by nowadays, especially with Aerys having ascended the throne and requesting his presence in King's Landing so often.

He opened the shutters of the window a small amount of rain pelting his face from the storm, though the small discomfort was nothing compared to what he witnessed as he overlooked the Godswood of Storm's End. He was a believer in the seven and thus had not made much time to visit the Godswood of his ancestral home, even so he knew with a certainty that no man had ever seen what he was seeing right now, there were black Ravens gathered on each of the gnarled Weirwood's branches and all of them were cawing in unison, it took a while for Steffon to make out the words they were saying over the sound of the rain pelting the castle walls, but once he'd heard it, he couldn't unhear it.

"Prince, Prince, Prince", the Ravens were cawing, the round shape of the Godswood allowing their voices to carry by echoing of the walls much further than would ordinarily be possible. He briefly stopped to wonder what this omen boded for his son's future. He had never placed much stock in such things, but this was a pretty clear message that the Gods, be they old or new wanted to say something, though what that something was Steffon couldn't say for certain.

Cressen I

The old Maester smiled at the thought of his student, his favorite student if he was honest, Stannis had a capacity to learn which boggled the mind. The lad had taken to his numbers and letters like a fish to water and had begun to read every single book he could get his hands on with the enthusiasm that outshone that of most Acolytes in the Citadel. He had said as much to Stannis, and while he did indeed have some interest in forging a chain, he'd said that a Maester's life wasn't truly for him.

He had never explicitly said what he dreamed of being, Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands were titles reserved for Robert, despite the fact that his younger brother was at least a thousand times more responsible from one what could see so far, but through Stannis' tastes in literature Cressen could at least gleam some of the dreams he had for the future. While Stannis read almost everything, he could possibly get his hands on, he particularly favored the memoirs of Colrys Velaryon and Lomas Longstrider, often re-reading them and being able to quote large passages from memory, leading the old man to believe that his charge wanted to be a great explorer.

That was practically the only subject of contention between the two, Cressen vigorously argued that with Stannis' obvious intelligence and inquisitive nature, that he should receive an education in the Citadel, but Stannis eventually got fed up with repeating the drawbacks of wearing the chain and wouldn't hear more about it.

Another intriguing if inconsequential difference between the two Baratheon brothers was their attitude towards birds, Robert loved hawking while Stannis found the activity mind-numbingly dull, instead he enjoyed tending to Ravens, a fondness which pleasantly reminded Cressen of his own sponsor at the citadel and the lad thus often volunteered to help feed and water them in exchange for extra lessons on the higher mysteries, Cressen being one of the few Maesters who had studied them and managed to forge a link of Valyrian Steel that indicated as much, though he gained little practical use from the knowledge and had said as much to Stannis, his charge was still as inquisitive and undeterred as ever and wouldn't be shaken from the boyish dream of learning magic, the thought making Cressen smile fondly as he had a similar attitude when he first joined the Citadel.

"Nevermore, Nevermore, Nevermore", the cawing of Stannis' pet raven broke him out of his reverie, the bird was usually very quiet and was by now a fixture on Stannis' left shoulder, but could be very annoying at times especially because Stannis had taught him to say almost exclusively that word, though he'd never explained why. "Cressen, could I ask a favor?", Stannis asked with his usual curt politeness that never quite managed to set others at ease, Cressen raised an eyebrow and genially answered, "Of course, do you wish to borrow another book?", Stannis shook his head and now Cressen was curious. Stannis almost exclusively asked him for more books or failing that, extra lessons on a subject he was interested in, usually history, navigation or the higher-mysteries, but for him to ask a favor that had nothing to do with learning something new was almost unheard of for him.

"I was wondering if you could help me send a Raven.", Stannis said his countenance as impassive as it usually was. "To whom?", Cressen was forced to ask. He'd be happy to do most any favor for Stannis, but any Ravens which left Storm's End could have dire political implications on the family, not necessarily because of the content, but just by where it was going would lead to much speculation among most nobles, especially since both Stannis and Robert were not yet betrothed…

"Castle Black", Stannis said simply. Cressen blinked away his astonishment, and almost breathlessly said, "You mean to join the Watch?!". Stannis' first instinct was something the Maester would've never expected from him, for his charge threw back his head and roared with laughter. After a few moments he calmed himself and wiped away the tears which had gathered in his eyes, "No, no", he began almost out of breath from the fit of laughter, "I've no intention of freezing my balls off at the wall.", Cressen glared at him for the language, but it lacked any real heat, "I just wanted to start a correspondence with the Maester there."

Cressen had not felt this curious about anything since he was an Acolyte and asked the question that he simply couldn't find the answer to in his own mind, "Why?". Stannis just looked at him like a father would look at a particularly dull-witted child who had just asked a very stupid question, "Why would I want to speak with my great-great uncle Aemon, possibly the oldest man in Westeros, friend to Ser Duncan the Tall and Brynden Rivers?", Stannis began, the sarcasm almost dripping from his voice, "I don't know, fun mayhaps?". Now Cressen glared at him for real, but he acquiesced to perform his request anyway and thus asked the most prudent question, "What do you wish to ask him?".

Stannis nodded curtly, a favorite gesture of his that usually indicated approval at someone getting to the point and said, "I was wondering if he had some insight, he might be willing to share into how Bloodraven ran his spy network."

"Do you wish to become the new Master of Whispers?", Cressen found himself asking, though his tone was more joking than incredulous when the conversation had initially began, "Hardly", Stannis snorted contemptuously, "but it is a matter of large historical importance and all of the books I've read are either woefully vague on the subject or are simply conjecture from overeager Maesters born years after Bloodraven became Lord Commander."

Cressen sighed, "Very well, I'll help you, just fetch a quill and some parchment from the table over there.", he said pointing to the aforementioned table. Stannis smiled gratefully and went to do as he was told.

Robert I

Robert Baratheon was the furthest thing from a patient man and had a temper that could put most wild beasts to shame, currently he was attempting to squash the mounting urge to drop his blunted training sword and attempt to squash his younger brother's head like a gr.a.p.e, the main reasons why he didn't were because his father would hang him if Cressen didn't poison him first.

His anger was exacerbated by the fact that he'd eaten a bad lobster and was down with the shits during what would've been his first squire's tourney, a tourney that his younger brother, won handily, the thought made him outwardly frown and Stannis took advantage of the lapse in concentration to whack him across the shoulder, Robert let loose a grunt of rage and tried to club his brother over the head with his sword, but his brother merely got on his knee and rolled behind him, giving him a spank with the flat edge of his blade while laughing all-the-while.

The disparity in their respective skills as warriors wasn't so great between the two, but between their skills as swordsmen it was very clear that Stannis was much, much better. Robert was stronger by a wide margin and thus preferred using decisive bludgeoning weapons like the Warhammer his father bought him for his nameday, but for all of Robert's strength, speed and reach, Stannis on the other hand was faster, decisive and had the reflexes of a shadow-cat, making him an extremely able blade for his age. The fight would've been more even with their respective weapons of choice, but it was required of a knight to learn the sword, so Robert was doing just that.

It was not only their respective inborn talents that made a difference, both of them trained quite hard and were expected to receive their knighthoods by the time they turned seven and ten at the very latest, though Robert focused his training more on strength building, while Stannis galivanted with that sword-swallower Braavosi by the name of Qarro Volentin he had hired to teach him their peculiar fighting style and training by doing gods know what, though as Robert barely managed to block a strike that would've probably broken his nose, he had to concede that those seemingly pointless exercises of balancing on one leg and chasing cats around seemed to be working for his brother, but they still seemed entirely ridiculous to him.

It wasn't long before he landed on his ass, not because of a decisive strike though, but rather because Stannis had closed the distance between them, forcing Robert to take a step back in order to maximize the effective range of which he could attack, but had at the same time entangled his legs with his, making him stumble as he was unprepared for this, but Stannis had come out of the ordeal just fine.

He tore off his gambeson and rushed at his brother with a snarl of rage, wielding his sword much like how one would use a club, "It's so unfair", he thought, "my little brother is better at everything.", it wasn't Stannis who knocked him down this time, but rather Ser Harbert Gower, master-at-arms of Storm's End and not by hitting him either, rather he had sharply barked "Robert!", in his loudest most intimidating training-yard voice possible, that would cause grown knights to piss themselves.

He looked up to see Stannis extending a hand to him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he scowled and blinked away the tears that were gathering in his eyes, but he took his hand all the same, once he was righted he managed an, "I must be excused", mustering the last of his dignity.

He tried to leave in the direction of his chambers, but a strong steady hand held him in place, my brother's, he noticed as the hand spun him back around and Stannis said with a grin, though unlike his usual ones it wasn't mocking in nature, "Don't worry about a single loss brother, if you'd had your hammer you would have beat me bloody.", Robert sighed internally as his rage slowly abated, he should at least try to make an effort to get along with Stannis, it was after-all his last week in Storm's End before he left for the Eyrie.

Renly I

He tossed and turned in his bed, he couldn't help it, sleep just wouldn't take him! He got up, the cold stone floor being slightly uncomfortable on his bare feet, but he made his way to where he knew his brother would be right now. He ran through the halls as quickly as he could without making any noise that would alert his parents as to what he was doing, "just because they let Stannis be awake throughout the whole night doesn't mean the same for me.", he thought. The pitter-patter of his feat resonated throughout the hallways as he made his way to the library of Storm's End, once he got there, he found the room with its innumerable shelves of books to be shrouded in darkness, save for a small candle which was burning away at the very back of the room. He approached and saw his brother Stannis hunched over a few books and stacks of maps, though they were of locations that Renly didn't recognize.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?", Renly blurted out with all of the vitriol a four-year-old could muster, Stannis blinked his sleep away and flicked his blue eyes over to him, Renly noticed that they had large bags under them.

"Yes, I really should, sleep is good", Stannis said, and the unexpected response threw Renly off long enough for Stannis to add, ", but books are better.", he said the last part with a Cheshire grin that only showed itself with Renly and Cressen.

Renly scowled at the response, but chose not to dwell on it, he was here for a purpose after all, so he waited for his brother to take the bait, "and actually, come to think of it, shouldn't you be sleeping little brother?", Renly misliked the way Stannis always emphasized "little" when he said that, but chose to ignore it once again and opted instead for simply saying, "I can't sleep."

Stannis sighed rubbing his face as if it would magically take his sleepiness away, he finally said with no small amount of exasperation, "Fine, will you go to sleep if I tell you a story?", Renly nodded eagerly, the faux betrayed smile Stannis sent him let him know that he knew what Renly was doing, but was not unduly annoyed by this.

Stannis ruffled his hair and picked him up, placing Renly on his lap, he scowled as much as a child could, but his brother either didn't notice due to the dim light or didn't care, because he almost immediately began to tell his story, "In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit…", even though he didn't know what a Hobbit was, Stannis had Renly's undivided attention.

A/N

Hey guys, please enjoy the first chapter of my new Stannis SI! I deleted the last one because I wasn't satisfied with the first few chapters and I noticed that the story was starting to get away from me during the later ones, but it's still the same basic premise, a chemist reincarnated in Stannis Baratheon, this time during his birth so he has more 'prep-time'. He'll still get exiled and go to Essos, but we'll see more of his preparations while he's in Westeros. I also hope to include more about his relationsh.i.p.s with his brothers and other people of importance. Not to mention, for those of you that participated the poll about the pairing is still valid, so look forward to that. See you guys next time, same bat-time, same bat-channel.

Chapter 1

Cressen I

As the old Maester made his way up the stairs, he realized that Stannis had no reason to have summoned him. He thought of him as the child he never had and while very intelligent and responsible he was also very grim, pedantic, meticulous and utterly inflexible. For him to have called him to his solar out of his normal schedule, indicated some extenuating circ.u.mstances indeed, this line of thought was further confirmed upon seeing Ser Harbert Gower, the master-at-arms of Storm's End waiting to me admitted into Stannis' solar.

Both men eventually came upon the door which was now guarded by a Baratheon man-at-arms as well as Stannis' personal sworn-sword, Qarro Volentin, a Braavosi Stannis had hired when he was a child to teach him the way of the sword, but soon became one of Stannis' most loyal and fiercest protectors, a dawning look appeared in his eyes as he knocked on the door and announced their presence.

"Bid them enter", the low growl of Stannis' voice resonated through the hall, both men nodded silently at each other before they made their way into the young Baratheon's solar.

Ser Harbert and himself entered the room, Harbert of course hurrying to where their Lord sat behind his desk, the scratching of a quill on parchment the only sound in the room. He slowly walked after him, noticing that Stannis had not even raised his eyes from what he was doing once, neither to acknowledge their entrance nor when either of them had sat before his desk, without asking if could they sit, a privilege he only afforded Cressen, Qarro and Renly, not Ser Harbert.

They sat there, Ser Harbert becoming increasingly annoyed as Stannis worked on the doc.u.ment before him. As a Maester Cressen was accustomed to being ignored momentarily, but it was not a trait Ser Harbert shared. This continued until finally he took the pot of wax from where it sat on a stand above a lighted candle, pouring a small amount of the wax onto the doc.u.ment and impressing the Baratheon Sigil that was embossed unto his ring into the pool of molten wax.

Stannis flicked his gaze over to them and Cressen noticed that he looked even more grim and impassive than usual if that was even possible and Nevermore, the Raven perched upon his shoulder, somehow mimicked his owners' countenance, looking downtrodden and serious overall. Stannis bent down briefly and poured Ser Harbert and Cressen a goblet of wine each, their eyebrows shooting up in surprise at this, "Stannis never offered nor drank wine.", they both thought. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Cressen could briefly glimpse in his ward's blue eyes that Stannis knew what they were thinking and could feel amus.e.m.e.nt at their surprise, but he shook his head and drank modestly, interested in what new oddities this day would bring.

Stannis waited for both him and Gower to finish before sipping at their wine before his blue eyes suddenly became hard as flint and equally as merciless flicked to the both of them briefly until he sighed tiredly and said: "I hope your ravens have been well fed and watered Cressen.", as grimly as his countenance as the atmosphere he had managed to create would warrant.

"They are my lord, but why do you ask?", he said judiciously. Stannis rubbed his forehead and his blue eyes blazed with something he hadn't seen in him since his parents died in the shipwreck, worry.

"I ask because you will be sending a lot of them, Robert plans to call his banners.", Stannis answered simply.

Both men's faces were shocked at this, but before they could voice their very fair questions and objections Stannis raised a hand to silence them and said: "I don't know this for a fact, but I do know Lords Rickard and Brandon Stark were executed by the mad king and that he will likely demand Ned Stark's head as well…", he trailed off for a moment before continuing, "my drunken oaf of a brother will have been pushed over the edge, I suspect he's on his way right now in fact."

"You mean to call your banners in rebellion against the crown?", Ser Harbert asked affronted and Stannis nodded sharply: "I take my oaths seriously in general, to my King especially, but they pale in comparison to the sacred ties of Family, if Robert intends to fight, then I'll side with him.", he shot back.

"And if you're wrong?", Ser Harbert asked simply, Stannis met his gaze with steely eyed determination and his jaw clenching and unclenching, being the only thing that betrayed his anger, until he said: "I'll do my duty and take responsibility, it would seem those ravens to Castle Black were not a waste of time after all.", the last part was said in jest though it made Cressen grimace and Ser Harbert briefly nod with approval, before sighing as an indication of his acquiescence and finally meeting Stannis' gaze with the same determination that had characterized the gruff old knight throughout his whole career.

"What would you have of us?", Cressen decided to ask straight to the point as Stannis liked it and sure enough Stannis nodded approvingly and said: "Send Ravens to all the houses, except the Conningtons asking them to muster their troops at Storm's End and bring as much food as they can reasonably spare, also tell my uncle Lomas that I'll be sending Renly along to him, he's too young to endure a siege and it'll be the safest place for him barring Winterfell or the Eyrie."

Both men's eyebrows once again shot up, before Ser Harbert incredulously asked the same question Cressen had on his mind: "You expect a siege!?"

Stannis nodded sharply and said: "Robert will likely take most of the forces I gather as soon as he arrives, he'll leave me with little food and a bare bones garrison, something the Tyrells will no doubt take advantage of. They should be at the gates within three weeks, two if Mace Tyrell defers to Randyll Tarly.", he paused before getting up from his chair and pulling out a map of Storm's End, unfolding it he pointed at the surrounding area and said: "Storm's End is easily the third most defensible castle in Westeros, they could march here with the combined might of the Reach and they still wouldn't breach our walls", he now pointed at Shipbreaker's Bay and said, "they'll try to starve us out by using the Redwyne fleet to blockade the keep and their army to stop food from getting to us from our vassals."

"That's where you come in Ser Harbert, I need you to take some men and forage the surrounding area for all the food you can reasonably recover, I don't want to let those bastards have even the scraps", Stannis commanded with steel in his voice, Ser Harbert bowed an exited the room with an impressed look on his face, presumably on his way to completing his task.

"Stannis, why not the Conningtons if I may ask?", Cressen knew better that to question a Lord's decision outright once it had been made, but he was there to offer advice, and with this issue it seemed prudent. Stannis thought on how to phrase his answer for a moment, before he began with: "Are you aware of why House Lannister is currently the strongest house in Westeros?"

The non-sequitur threw Cressen of kilter for a moment, first of all the fact that a Lord had admitted that another house was superior to his was, no matter how true, very surprising in it of itself, but also utilizing the Lannisters, a house Stormlanders normally held little except contempt for, was even stranger. He ignored these self-posed questions and instead opted for trying to answer the initial question Stannis had posed, his mind immediately wandered to the simply absurd amount of gold in the Westerlands, but his musings were interrupted by the song Stannis had begun to hum. He recognized it of course, who in Westeros didn't, 'The Rains of Castamere'.

"You mean you believe them to be as strong as they are because they wiped out the Rains?!", Cressen asked incredulously. Stannis nodded gravely and began, "Tywin Lannister has the absolute loyalty of every single one of his bannermen, despite the fact that even most of his close family despises him…", he paused here to let that sink in, "This loyalty is not solely born from fear, but rather the fact that House Lannister can't be ousted from power as there is no one in the Westerlands strong enough to do so. Every single House Paramount has a rival that could potentially replace them, the Tullys have the Freys, the Arryns have Grafftons, the Starks the Boltons, the Tyrells the Florents.", he paused to see if he had Cressen's undivided attention, which he did, before he finished, "…and we have the Conningtons, I fully expect them to side with the Crown if a war breaks out, don't get me wrong, I hope they don't, but if they try my patience the Griffons will weep o'er their halls with no one left to hear.", Stannis' expression was severe as he said that last part, so severe that it made Cressen involuntarily shiver as Stannis never made a threat benign or otherwise that he wasn't perfectly willing to carry out.

Cressen rose up from his chair, a determined expression on his face, he bowed and left to accomplish his task, but before he could cross the threshold of the door Stannis interjected: "Oh and Cressen", handing him a list, "see if you can have the castellan procure some of the items on this list, it's not as high a priority as Renly or the food, but they'll be useful", Cressen nodded with a proud smile and left to do his Lord's work, looking over the list briefly he exclaimed: "What in seven hells does he need so many pig bladders for!?"

Renly I

"But I want to stay and help!", Renly's voice was laced with all the petulance he could muster, a trait that his older brother could only stomach in him, but Stannis still scrunched his jaw in anger all the same. "Renly, we've been over this, if something happens to me and Robert, you're the future of our house and Uncle Lomas will take good care of you.", Stannis repeated for the nth time. "But I don't want anything to happen to you!", Renly practically shouted as tears began to gather in his eyes, Stannis kneeled to face him at eye-level, a difficult task considering the older Baratheon was over 6ft tall, but he still managed to hug Renly to his chest and comfort him. The Cheshire grin that only showed itself with close friends slowly began to appear on Stannis' features as he said in a faux worried voice, "Gods, I should hope not Renly, I don't want anything to happen to me either.", the unexpectedness of the response was enough to throw both of them into a fit of laughter, or in Renly's case a half laugh, half cry.

They eventually gathered themselves and Stannis gazed at him with all traces of levity vanishing from his features before he said, "Renly, I've got no intention of being Sean Bean.", the private joke they shared stemming from a made-up story Stannis used to tell Renly when they were both younger, he understood the implications well enough, Stannis was saying he has no intentions of dying.

Renly sobered up and nodded, making his way to pack his clothes to board the next ship bound for Tarth, he sent his brother a thankful look, though he still wished he could remain with him to help somehow, his brother gazed at him with a small smile, a rarity on his normally solemn features, before he said, "Oh, and Renly…"

"Yes, Stannis?", he turned back to see what his brother wanted.

"Be good", he said simply. Renly rolled his eyes and made for his chambers.

Stannis I

Make no mistake, synthesizing chlorine gas in medieval times was anything but an easy task. You might be wondering, "What the hell, is this guy going to WW1-Germany the Tyrells?!", and the answer to that is yes, very much so, yes. I have no intentions of slowly starving to death in Storm's End while simultaneously looking out for people who might betray the castle just to get something to eat. I knew I'd have to grit my teeth, (read: furiously grind), and bear it, until the would-be onion-knight showed up. A little starvation was a relatively minor price to pay for someone you could unequivocally trust in the Game of Thrones, not to mention the fact that an experienced sailor like Davos would be an integral part of my later plans to claim the throne. I was also quite curious to see if he looked anything like Liam Cunningham, the world so far was an eclectic mix of book and show in terms of looks. The Baratheons as in Robert, Renly and myself looked nothing like our respective actors, but Cressen looked eerily like the old man who had played him in the show and Tywin Lannister looked almost exactly like Charles Dance, except he was slightly bulkier and had sideburns that would put a Civil War general to shame.

It was with these inane musings that I returned to my thankless task of synthesizing a 20th century biological weapon with tools that may as well be scraps, it was much easier than expected and thinking about it now I'm surprised that more school shooters and terrorists don't use it. Chlorine or Mustard gas essentially has two components Chlorine (no shit sherlock!) and Ammonia, which for all intents and purposes in medieval times essentially translates to Bleach and Piss, as in I only have to mix those two things together so that a large chunk of the army outside of my gates dies painfully. The difficulty lay in synthesizing the chlorine to make the Bleach, but I was getting on quite well. The items I had asked Cressen to get for me were as eclectic as it gets, mostly animal parts and copper forged into thin strands (wires) and I was sure he was starting to think that I was performing blood magic in the cellar, which in all honesty wasn't too far off, as I was essentially sacrificing pigs and turning them into a magic miasma that'll kill our enemies, the thought made me snort with amus.e.m.e.nt outwardly.

No, as I said the actual difficulty lied in synthesizing the Bleach. You needed a lot of chlorine for that, but luckily, I was making a lot of headway with my electrolysis. Essentially, I put two nails inside a small glass with sea-water, I run an electrical current through the nails and badda-bing badda-boom, the Salt or NaCl, breaks up into its respective components, and I trap the gas I actually need inside a pig's bladder. The electric current coming from a guerilla style, ancient Egyptian battery which worked with Zink, stomach-acid (pigs were harmed in the making of this battery), and clay as an insulator, now if only I could learn actual alchemy to speed this whole process up…

Davos I

After arriving in the hidden cleft of Storm's End he had discovered in his youth and announcing his intentions several times he was quickly ushered into the solar of acting Lord Paramount Stannis Baratheon. He had taken a risk here and he knew it, Stannis was anything but lenient and he despised Pirates more than anyone else. To the point where he had even ordered the small fleets the Stormlands possessed to periodically sweep the Stepstones of their presence, something which hadn't been properly done since the War of the Ninepenny Kings and did not initially make him popular with his vassals, even still Lord Stannis persisted. Though Davos was not exactly a pirate he doubted that any Lord would make the very reasonable distinction between piracy and smuggling and he could only pray to the Seven that the hunger his men were experiencing would be enough to turn a healthy profit, perhaps even enough to retire and spend more time with his wife and children.

Once he crossed the threshold of the door, he noticed the young man who had not even deigned to cast his gaze up to him sitting behind a large wooden desk which looked to him like it was made of some very fine and expensive, wood. Lord Stannis, he noticed belatedly, had a way of using his presence to dominate every room he found himself in, much like some experienced captains Davos had worked under in his youth. The posh cunt had not bidden him sit, and he knew better than to offend a Lord's sensibilities by doing so without permission, so he just stood in the middle of the room while fidgeting awkwardly.

After a few moments Lord Stannis put down his quill, presumably having finished writing whatever he was working on, and he finally cast his gaze upon him. If he was fidgeting awkwardly before he lacked the words to describe what he was doing now as the young Baratheon's stare feltlike it pierced his soul, Stannis feigned a cough to gain Davos' attention though he had it before and said: "So what brings a famous smuggler like yourself to come visit us?"

That stopped Davos cold, his mind whirling and tumbling and refusing to come up with any answers, eventually he managed to croak out a weak, "famous…?"

"Oh yes, quite famous indeed", Lord Stannis began his tone almost jovial, though the 'disarming' smile he plastered on his face sent shivers down Davos' spine, "you needn't worry however, you aren't very well known among other Lords, but I take an interest in learning about capable men such as yourself and don't worry I fully intend to pay you a fair price which includes the dangerous task of circ.u.mnavigating the Redwyne fleet for each and every onion you've brought." At Davos' uncomfortable countenance and Stannis' disapproving look he merely said: "Pardon me milord, but I half expected to have my right hand chopped off, not the skills I've gained in my trade be praised", Davos commented wryly and to his immense surprise Stannis actually let out a small chuckle at this.

"I do have that reputation, don't I?", Stannis asked rhetorically before shaking his head and continuing while gesturing at the paper he had placed on his desk, "here you are Davos, payment for services rendered and all that."

It pained him to admit this to a respectable customer who would actually pay him no questions asked, "Pardon me milord, but I'm afraid I can't read…", he began before Stannis waved him off and said, "then I'll read it for you, in exchange for providing sufficient food to prevent the starvation of Strom's End's garrison Davos of the newly created House Seaworth will be provided a knighthood and a small keep on the cape wrath peninsula.", Stannis' expression practically exuded equanimity, which was good as Davos was fairly sure that his own face was slack-jawed and stupid.

"Why?", he managed to ask breathlessly, "I'm a good judge of character.", Stannis said simply, the vague reply bewildering Davos even more before Stannis continued, "Fighters and Intriguers I have aplenty, but an experienced sailor who presumably has contacts across the narrow-sea and who has the stones to tell me what he thinks and not what he thinks I want to hear well, let's just say I could use more of those."

Mace I

He strutted up to the massive wooden doors of the fortress they were besieging, his attitude c.o.c.ky as a peac.o.c.k, along with his party consisting of himself, his cousin Paxter and Lord Matthis Rowan with a detail of guards. Visiting and arguing with the "Stubborn Stag", as his men had dubbed Stannis was not a task he particularly enjoyed doing, but it was the only way to make him see sense and cease this futile resistance. As his party got closer and closer to the wall, he could vaguely make out the sounds of archers on the par.a.p.ets preparing to lose their arrows, though unlike Lord Rowan he didn't fear for his life, despite being the single most infuriating man he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting the young Baratheon was nothing if not pedantic, so he'd probably have to be driven to lengths beyond even starvation to break a sacred rule of war like the truce.

"Who goes there?", a voice bellowed out, the slight Braavosi accent marking the speaker as Qarro Volentin, Stannis' sworn-sword and a man who had single-handedly killed five experienced knights when they had initially tried to storm the walls.

"Lord Mace Tyrell, here to discuss terms with Lord Stannis.", he said simply and this time avoided saying something along the lines of 'you should damn well know who by now, you essosi barbarian', tongue and cheek answers like that which were more reminiscent of his mother than himself would only get him snubbed by the Baratheon as he'd learned the hard-way. "A moment please.", the voice returned from the other side of the door, and a few moments later a latch clicked open to reveal the hateful blue-eyed glare of the young Baratheon quickly scanning over the lords he'd brought with him, before landing on him, 'does he have no other way to look at one apart from skull-f.u.c.k.i.n.g one with his eyes?', Mace wondered idly.

"Lord Tyrell, a pleasure to see you again, is there anything I can do for you?", Stannis drawled impassively though the sarcasm when he'd said pleasure came through loud and clear. Mace stifled a chuckle, but he couldn't help smiling ruefully. The Stag could be as stubborn as a mule and his tongue was sharper than most, though he was inured to this through a lifetime of criticism by his mother and thus Stannis' lackl.u.s.ter insults had little to no effect on him.

"You know what I'm here for…", he began, before Stannis interjected with, "yes, yes, open the gates, surrender unconditionally, there's no way your brother can win, you'll be treated fairly…", he drawled his voice hard set and unemotional, "no need to repeat the same conversation we've already had fifty times, but as it happens I have something new to say this time."

Between the two Lords Stannis was the master of using his glare to intimidate people, so Mace never even bothered, and instead simply raised a bemused eyebrow and asked, "Oh, and what would that be?"

"A warning", Stannis began in a tone one would use if one wanted to announce they needed to make water, "if you don't march your fat-ass out of the Stormlands yesterday, a lot of your men are going to die very painfully. Though for my part, it would be most welcome if you stayed so I may extract due price for your enmity."

Mace barely managed to avoid laughing at the absurdity of the jape, though his cousin and Lord Rowan lacked the same self-control, and they nearly fell off their mounts laughing at the desperate bluff the Stag had seen fit to use, Mace smiled at him, the fact that he was resorting to such pointless tactics only proved his desperation and said, "Tighten your belt then my lord, and we shall see whose men will die.", then promptly signaled for his party to return to camp, he'd really wished he'd stayed in Highgarden and allowed Tarly to deal with all of this shit, but being a Lord Paramount meant pretending to be a capable commander and thus waste his time doing shit like this.

If he'd stayed, he might have further pondered the look Stannis had given him. It was not one of hate for laughing at his 'bluff', nor one of his typical impassive looks that gave absolutely nothing away, it was something Mace had never seen on the Baratheon's face before, a smile, a small and fleeting one, but a smile, nonetheless. Not one of warmth that a mother might share with her child, but rather one of a hunter who had just found out how to kill his prey and was letting it know.

The reason for that look become clear soon enough as he was violently woken from his night's sleep by the alarm that indicated that their camp was being attacked by projectiles, he'd thought they had set up their tents just out of range from Storm's End's catapults, but apparently they were chucking what looked like large stones over to them, he panicked but only slightly, after all, they could just move their tents back and nothing else would come of it. But once the projectiles landed, Mace realized that they weren't stones at all, but rather barrels that contained what smelled to him like rancid piss.

It soon dawned on everyone that the Stag didn't do this as some sort of twisted prank or desperate gambit as a yellowish miasma began to rise from the puddles of liquid that had exploded out of the barrels. Mace had seen several battles in his day, though none as large as this one he'd admit, but the sight of his men running and screaming, emerging with burnt caustic skin reminiscent of what he'd imagined people with greyscale looked like scared him to his core, 'Stannis had told the truth', his mind seemed to say to him on repeat, the screams of his men aiding and abetting the exacerbation of his fear, "Retreat!", he bellowed in his most commanding voice, it was not an organized retreat, there was no time for that with the amount of fear both the men and the commanders were experiencing, as the panic began to set in seasoned soldiers turned into callow milksops and ran for their lives, the only commanders who could have possibly brought order to this mess were Paxter Redwyne who was with his fleet and Randyll Tarly, who was caught in the middle of the Baratheon's spell.

It would forever be remembered as the day Stannis Baratheon made the whole of the Reach scurry away like a scared group of rabbits.

A/N

Hey guys, as always hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did please drop a review, that warm feeling you guys get whenever a story updates is the same feeling most writers get whenever we see a new review, so please take some time to do it. At any rate, I know I rushed Davos' stuff but honestly, I didn't want to spend too much time on him seeing as how everyone can guess how it turned out. So, addressing some of your concerns in the order I found them in:

A Hobbit is a race from J.R.R Tolkien's "The Hobbit" and "Lord of the Rings", they're basically dwarves who farm instead of mine, have hairy feet and are generally very nice, but not very adventurous. Their mention in the story is an 'Easter Egg' which indicates that Stannis has basically been telling Renly stories from our world, including the work of Mr. Tolkien.

Yeah, I just can't see a way for a pairing with Dany to fit into the story logically without some major leaps from what would be essential for the SI to do to stop the Ice Zombies.

Yeah, even in this story Robert is much more popular than Stannis wo there's no way he could successfully lead a counter-rebellion against his older brother.

Stannis is not the older brother, it goes Robert, Stannis, Renly.

Yeah, I made Renly a little older than in Cannon because I wanted him and Stannis to interact a little more before he leaves.

Arianne Martell won the poll results and to my immense delight Sansa Stark lost by a wide margin, while a pairing with her would've made a lot of sense in the story and I could have written her fairly well I always disliked her chapters in the books.