-A law clerk SI into Westeros as Stannis Baratheon~ I've never heard of a law clerk before but it seems to be some sort of lawyer aide. Some bromance in this fic!
Sypnosis: This is simple we have a man who was a Brooklyn Law Clerk jumped into the Mannis just as Robert's Rebellion is almost over. How can a Truly Just Man change things? Warning for language, some sexual implications and violence.
This fic will probably be over quickly as this SI doesn't fuck around'
Rated: M
Words: 36K
Posted on: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/no-creature-half-so-terrifying-asoiaf-si.819018/#post-64284894 (Supasoulja_X)
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 1
"Only a kind person is able to judge another justly and to make allowances for his weaknesses.
A kind eye, while recognizing defects, sees beyond them."
Lawrence G. Lovasik
A small voice, no a lean voice beckoned to me from the aether. "Brother, please get up! Don't leave me here by myself."
Another voice, older with a mix of gentle reproach and understanding answered him. "And where am I young Renly if not right behind you?"
From what I somehow knew without thinking was a sick bed I could practically see the image of the elder maester. Slightly hunched, but surprisingly spry when he chose to be Cressen still had a good deal of life in him yet. Though if this siege continued much longer I feared that he and my young brother would be among the first casualties. They certainly would die even sooner if I didn't get up from this blasted bed and see to the morale of my troops.
Another thought struck me then. How the hell did I get behind the walls of Storms End in yet another blasted war caused by the foolish greed and unchecked passions of so called great lords? The last thing I remembered was going to bed after a double shift at the Court of Appeals at 45 Monroe Place. The same building I worked at for the better part of 20 years as a clerk alternating between the offices of the public defender and prosecution.
I could feel another consciousness just beneath the surface of my own. Memories that had no real context or made any sense then flooded into my mindscape showing me the various relevant relationships between my family and those who resided in a place called "Storm's End". After a few seconds I could recall the names and details of at least two hundred people and intimate facts of the residents just as quickly as those of my 'real' family or friends. After that moment I couldn't even say which 'reality' was closer to my heart. I felt myself sputter as my mind groaned to cope with it all.
The back of my mind sent a firm directive to me, reminding me of my time in the both the R.O.T.C and the U.S. Navy. It almost seemed to shout at me the way my father would when he caught me slacking off instead of studying or training for a meet. 'you were a combat soldier once, and once a soldier always a soldier. Worry about the reality of your existence later. First survive and do your duty to my family. My brothers and the realm are depending on you'. For some reason I could feel how important a part of me considered the lives before me.
My groan and cough must have been more audible than I realized because one of the knights guarding my room spoke.
"See Renly you didn't have anything to worry bout. It would take much more than some cowardly strike to vanquish Lord Stannis!" The speaker was Ser Harold Tarshen, a household knight aged about thirty years. He was wearing full armor, but I assumed even with a fighter's ration he was rather gaunt under the plate. His unhelmeted hair displayed salt and pepper handlebar mustache and what looked like mutton chop sideburns. It was probably meant to make him look fierce, but not everyone could pull of the Tywin or Wolverine look.
I remember Renly saying he looked more like a mummer than the fierce boar he wished to appear as. No one had the heart or the lack of common sense to inform Ser Harold of that fact, as he was truly fucking deadly with fist, long sword or great sword. Though I suspected he saw my kid brother snickering when he wasn't looking.
"He'd better. Some of the men look at me funny. I think they want to eat me."
I could hear the fear in his frail voice and I could see his increasingly distended belly. Suddenly I felt intensely angry at the people responsible for this situation. Said sacks of suet were Lord Mace Tyrell of the Reach and Rheagar Targaryen, for I would never again call him or any of his line a prince. Most of all I burned with a hate I never knew in what my soul told me was my past life, for his mad father who was no kind of king at all. If the rumors were true and I knew they certainly were he was a beast in human skin worse than the Mountain that rides or even his predecessor, the so called Smiling Knight.
To be honest some of my ire was directed at Brandon Stark, his father, John Aryn and yes even my brother Robert. For while Robert was right to defend his betrothal, both sets of my emotions seriously doubted he even knew what the words matrimonial monogamy or genuine affection were. It was likely he couldn't even spell the words. The elder Starks while justified in their anger were bloody fools to ride into Kings Landing and even more mad than Aerys to insult an man so beloved of cruel torture to his face! All this largely came about because the bloody Eagle was so quick to join hands with the sly wolf to hedge bets on the Iron Throne in the false belief they had all the angles covered. Now my little brother was dying by inches while they played politics or danced about like knights from some cursed song.
No that shit wasn't happening, not while I could do somthing about it! I calmed myself and took a deep breath as I rose from my bed and rubbed my head. There was no need for wrath or a harsh face when dealing with people I both trusted and cared about. While Renly might one day become a vain and callow sop, that day was a far while off and I had a great many opportunities to monkey wrench it. Stannis could never show affection to anyone, even himself and that probably explained a great many of his problems. The death of his parents had scarred him in a way I frequently observed in the people who came before the judges whose cases I participated in. I however, had a large family and I knew how to get along with them even during our worst times.
The little boy, who by Westorosi social standards was a late teenager despite being biologically six and how frail the lack of food made him appear, came within two feet of me but stopped. I was sure the distance was something the damn stone face had enforced to 'toughen' the boy up. Well fuck that noise! I reached over and pulled Renly into a hug. I could feel the how close the bones were to his and my own ribs through our rough spun clothes. One thing I could appreciate about Stannis was he insisted that he and his officers share the burdens of his men. We had done away with our fancy clothes the minute the siege looked to be upon us and took the same food and rations as the others. I would credit it to why we has lasted this long.
Stiflling my restoked rage. I put on a somewhat pleasant voice which cracked somewhat.
"That's because you look so tasty litle brother!" I completed my hug with a ruffle of his limp black hair. He looked at me a moment in complete shock. To be honest so did the other three men in the room; the maester and my two guards. A part of me sent a cautionary warning about seeming off, but I shut it up with a firm thought.
"A joke dear brother, We all know that Baratheon meat is tough and like to break the teeth of any fools that dare take a bite." A second passed before a small laugh came from the cracking lips of Renly. It was followed a few seconds later by Ser Harold and the man at arms Lorrimer Halfdon. For a good half minute the room was filled with awkward laughing as my little brother hugged me with all the strength his body was capable of. That so much power still resided in a body that young in the midst of a siege was a testament to Baratheon dna. Tears came down his eyes and the rage in my guts burned.
It must have shown as the three adults stopped their mirth and stood at attention. Renly quickly joined them, but I let him continue to hold me. It was then that Maester Cresson continued to speak.
"You are as healthy as my arts can confirm. Your skull was not broken by Ser Doman's cowardice. He and the other surviving mutineers await your judgment." I nodded at him. Then I turned to the small bundle of young manhood hugging my waist. I was never the broadest of men but this siege had wasted a good amount of my vigour.
"Do you intend to finish what Ser Doman started little brother?" The boy stopped, released me and looked up at me. His face attempting to read the intent of my words. Part of me cursed Stannis for causing the boy to doubt his intentions toward him. That isn't how a man should treat his brother, hell even a dog deserved better. I knew he never laid a hand of violence on him, but at times words or even gestures cut deeper than knives. A weak series of subliminal messages 'for his own good, weakness is unbecoming the son of a lord, the world is harsh, don't be naïve you have seen what men have done' passed through me. A simple 'EXCUSES!' silenced the mental messages.
Then I smiled. For a second it must have startled the boy because honestly Stannis never smiled, but he must have read my intent because he relaxed a second later. My right hand wiped the tears from each of his eyes while my left firmly gripped his chin ensuring we maintained eye contact.
"Renly. Please listen and believe what I'm saying to you. There is never a time when you should ever fear me. I am your brother and while I live no harm will befall you. If you have done wrong I will punish you, but it is for your own good not because I hate you.
I love you brother. Robert loves you. We are doing this, fighting this war so you don't have to be afraid of someone taking what belongs to you because they are stronger or bigger than you. I know you don't understand but you know Robert and I would never put you in danger for a stupid or bad reason don't you?" The back of my mind grimaced and seized up. 'Prevarication' and ' baseless supposition' came unbidden. Well despite his bias even he knew Robert would never consciously cause harm to Renly.
Renly's little voice grew steady. "I know that Lord Stannis". Really he had the kid call him Lord Stannis in private? "I'm just hungry and scared" tears began forming in his eyes. 'See what weakness you encourage. The garrison will turn on us should this continue. Discipline him for all our sakes'. I ignored that small nagging voice and went about it a different way.
"Now now. Why cry? I'm alive, Robert is alive and we are going to win this war. Those tears tell everyone outside this door that you don't think Robert is winning. Does that sound like something a Baratheon should do?". The little boy wiped his tears and looked at me.
"No. No it does not. We must all do our duty. It is the duty of the soldier to fight and may haps die for a vic.. victory that he may never see. It is the duty of those who do not fight to support the fighters with their labor. It is the duty of those who lead to show courage and good judgement less those they lead loose faith and the war be lost. I will do my part Lord Stannis. I won't shame our family". He looked at me with a look I knew was reverence and stood firmly.
"When it is just us together like this call me brother" I rubbed his head and bent down to kiss his forhead. His mouth opened in shock, but he buried my chest in another hug.
"I love you brother"
"I love you more Renly"came unbidden and I think the gasp I heard might have been from one of the adults.
It was then I turned to face the slack jawed faces of the men in front of me. The fact that they were surprised by this display of brotherly affection actually made me angry. My face returned to its lordly state and they became flustered and stood at attention. All but Maester Cressen, who looked at me quizically.
"No I haven't been replaced by a Snark or Grumkin. Lorrimer, kindly fetch my armor and sword. I have judgment to deliver. Renly compose yourself! You will accompany me. I think too many have forgotten our house words. Shall we remind them of what they are?" I turned to the little boy whose face hardened as he remembered what almost happened to me.
I was honestly shocked that such a small voice could convey such sang froid. Kids grew up fast in Westeros, didn't they.
"Brother. Ours is the Fury!"
"Ours is the Fury indeed."
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