What If Renly Declared for Stannis for the Iron Throne

What if Renley declared Stannis for the Iron Throne? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. The waters around Storm's End are crisp and choppy, making it impossible for most sailors to make landfall in the castle with this weather. But one ship, a small boat with black sails, cuts through the waves with practiced ease. Sir Davos Seaworth, would have preferred to wait for better weather, but his lord and king, insisted they move now, lest they be late for the rendevous. As they reach the base of the castle, a hand reaches out to help them. Sir Courtney Penrose offers them a nod and guides them upstairs to the solar where Renley is waiting. The younger Baratheon smiles in the dim candle light. Welcome home, brother. I certainly hope you've invited me here because you wish to back my claim, brother. I've heard you've called your banners. For what purpose? Not with that attitude, Stenis. Suspicious as ever. Yes, your spies serve you well. I have summoned the Stormlands and they shall be here within the moon's turn. But as to who they will serve, that will depend on how this negotiation goes. What is there to negotiate on? The throne is mine by right. You know it. And the realm should as well. And yet the realm already has three kings. That is the problem. Right now, no one knows what to believe. And you think waving the law around will assure them of anything? Some would say Joffrey has a better claim than you. And that is what I wish to avoid. We cannot divide our forces now. So I've invited you here to come to terms. What are these terms, Lord Renley? First is simple enough. I wish to remain Lord of Storm's End and Paramount of the Stormlands. Second, I believe I can get the Tyrells on our side if I avoid Marjgerie and offer them some positions in the small council. You would choose my small council for me. I'm surprised you didn't ask to be my hand. All for what? One kingdom out of seven. I am offering you the means to take your throne. Don't be shortsighted, brother. The Reach has the largest army, and combined with the Stormlands, no house can challenge you. We can march straight towards King's Landing. And as for your hand, well, you might not like what I have to ask next. I wish to be named your heir. There is a long pause as Stannis glares at him. Sir Courtney steps closer with his sword in hand, ready to defend his lege lord, as for a moment it looks like Stannis might attack him. You do not just insult me with that demand. You insult your niece as well. Shireen is a girl far too sweet for the throne. She has no interest in ruling anyways. Stannis pauses and considers it. Renley's words ring true, as Shireen has never once expressed interest in the Iron Throne. She prefers to spend her time with books and patch face. If she were to be disinherited, Stannis doubts she would make much of a fuss. But the thought of doing that to his daughter after she was denied so much in life still upsets him. Very well. But I expect Shireen to be compensated. She's a sweet girl, as you say. The last thing she needs is to spend her life in misery. I want only the best for her. On that, we agree. So, do we have an agreement? Very well, but the allies you bring better be worth this trouble. Renley smiles, and within days, Stannis gets his army. The Stormlands all rally to their castle, pledging themselves to Stannis. Within the month, men from the Reach begin to trickle in. The first of these is Loris Tyrell, who leads the vanguard and is made Renley's protector. In the meantime, Stannis begins organizing his army, raising the Narrow Sea, and what few houses from the Crownlands have pledged themselves to him. It is not much, but they make up the core of Stannis's army. Soon, their ranks swell to almost 50,000, more than enough for Stannis to take King's Landing. Renley wishes to take a slow, leisurely pace to the capital, starving the Lannisters as they go and gathering whatever support they can. The sight of their army will cause more lords to join their forces and allow them to take the city with ease. However, Stannis sees that their opportunity will not last forever. Once word gets out of their alliance, Tywin and the Lannisters will rush to fortify the city and the opportunity for a swift victory will be lost. He pushes his men hard and begins to pick up the pace. He sends his ships ahead to blockade the city and tell of their arrival. There is no point in hiding it, and once they're moving in, it won't matter. True to Stannis's prediction, Tywin breaks off from the Riverlands once he hears of Stannis's plan to march on King's Landing. Even with the Westerlands under a threat, he knows that the loss of King's Landing will be a death blow to their cause. So with his 20,000 men, he begins the long process of returning to King's Landing. As they cross into the Crownlands, Stannis divides his army. 25,000 will remain with him and march to King's Landing. While the other half he leaves with Randall, Tarly, Renley, and Loris to confront Tywin. The Lannisters will not risk a direct engagement if they know we're coming. Tywin is cunning, but he's no fool. Then we press harder. He will move south from Herod Hall down through the God's Eye. So long as we intercept and prevent his forces from reaching King's Landing, Tywin will be forced to either fight us on our terms or take a long, costly detour. If it comes to battle, I will lead the Vanguard. This is no turn, Lord Tyrell. I am well aware of that. They press on, and as expected, Tywin learns of their approach and halts his march southward. The two armies clash near the banks of the God's Eye River. The mountain rides on ahead to secure the crossing and encounters Loris and his scouts. Their forces clash in a whirlwind of steel and wood. Men are thrown into the river and swept into the water as they fight for control of the fjords. The mountain roars and sweeps his great sword in huge arcs, slashing apart men and sending them flying. Loris ducks under his defenses and strikes his breastplate with his morning star. While this would have been enough to incapacitate lesser men, Sir Gregor simply roars and nearly takes his head off. Sir Loris barely avoids the strike and falls back with his remaining men, letting the Lannisters cross. But by the time they do, Tarly arranges his forces in a solid defense formation, utilizing the terrain to slow the Lannister advance. Sir Gregor awaits for the rest of the army to arrive before organizing a cavalry charge, battering the Tyrell forces. Yet, Rand Tarly is no stranger to this type of battle and keeps his men in line. His disciplined command and the might of the reachmen force Sir Gregor to pull back. A third of his men now feeding the crows. He orders the infantry to rush across the fjords while Sir Adam searches for another fjord. Tywin grits his teeth as he surveys the battlefield, then orders his troops to continue to force the crossing, knowing anything less could lead to a delay in relieving King's Landing. Meanwhile, at King's Landing, Stannis's forces move swiftly, knowing they cannot afford to delay. Without Tywin's reinforcements, the city's defenders are left scrambling. This is a golden opportunity for victory. Stannis's fleet arrives at the port just as his land forces launch their assault on the city gates. The wildfire meant to devastate in the incoming naval assault is ignited, and a great burst of green flames engulfs dozens of ships. The Blackwater rushes turned into a whirlwind of smoke, smolder, and ash. But it's only partially prepared. Green flames erupt across the river, consuming a portion of Stannis' ships in a catastrophic inferno. But the damage is incomplete and the great tower with Tyrion's chain is not ready. Ships are able to withdraw and spread out, limiting the damage. Enough of his fleet remains intact to land troops at the port while his forces on land breach the gates in a coordinated attack. The Goldcloaks, poorly led and disorganized, begin to waver as the disciplined storm of Baratheon soldiers crashes into them. Stannis himself fights at the front, his sword cutting through defenders with cold precision. The city falls into chaos as men seize control of the walls and move deeper into the capital. By nightfall, King's Landing belongs to Stannis Baratheon. The keep is his. The Iron Throne is his. And yet, even with victory secured, Malisandra watches from the shadows, knowing that soon the true battle will begin. It takes several days for news of King's Landing's fall to reach Tywin. And by the time it does, his army is exhausted and depleted. Though they've managed to secure several crossings, Randall Tarly managed to hold firm despite his casualties. But Stannis's victory changes things. The cost of engagement is too high to press forward. He issues the order to retreat, knowing full well that this setback is crippling. Randall Tarly does not pursue them, knowing his job is complete. He does give Loris Tyrell leave to harass the fleeing Lannisters, provided they do not venture too far away. As Tywin's forces begin their withdrawal and escape to Harrenhal, they are greeted with a terrifying sight. The banners of House Stark are on a nearby hill. Before they can make sense of this, Roose Bolton's forces emerge from the cover of the nearby hills. The banners of the Dread Fort unfurl, and before Tywin can react, his army is caught in a brutal ambush. Bolton's men descend upon them like wolves upon a wounded deer, cutting through the disorganized Lannister forces with a ruthless efficiency. Loris, unwilling to miss the chance for glory, rushes in to join them. His vanguard cutting through their rear defenses. The battlefield is drenched in blood as the route turns into a massacre. The Lord of Castle Rock is counted among the dead, and those few who escape are led by Kevin Lannister. But there is no safety as they learn Harrenhal has been captured, leaving them no choice but to surrender. Loris watches as the Lannisters are escorted away by the Northmen. He does not have enough men to challenge them and must reluctantly allow them to leave. However, Roose Bolton offers a quick thanks for their assistance and says he hopes they do not encounter each other on the battlefield again. Despite this moment of cooperation, the situation with the North remains tense. Rob continues to call himself king in the north and insists that they must recognize his kingdom and kingship, two things neither Baratheon can accept. This is something mirrored by all their advisers, yet none of them can agree on what to do. For the likes of Melisandre and Randall Tarly, they urge Stannis to march out and crush them, pointing out that they have far more men and the backing of the second richest region, while Rob's lands are poor and ravaged from war. Yet others like Sir Davos and Matas Rowan urge caution, warning that Rob has proven to be an accomplished commander. He will not be easily defeated, and this war can drag out and weaken their resources. More importantly, without Tywin protecting the Westerlands, Rob has a free hand to raid and pillage its wealth to his heart's content. He has no incentive to protect it. But Stannis does, as he expects to rule it, and those Western men who begin bending the knee expect that as well. Unsurprisingly, Renley suggests diplomacy and believes he can win over the Northmen. Stannis is skeptical, but with Sir Davos advocating the same thing, Stannis relents and allows him to try. First, Renley wins over the Dornish to secure their southern flank. He offers them the heads of Tywin and Sir Greor, who were both killed in a battle of the God's Eye River, along with apologies for the Baratheon role in Ellia's death. While neither are truly pleased with these efforts, it at least appeases them and lets Renley focus his attention north. He begins gathering information about their situation, and Melisandre, who now serves as master of whispers, assists. From the fires, she gleams that the north is far from peaceful. She reveals that the Ironborn have begun raids there to try and create their kingdom. They have even managed to capture several important northern castles, including Winterfell. Worse still, she sees a young crippled boy disappearing into the wilderness. Bran Stark. With these losses, the North is left vulnerable. Some suggest that this would be a good time to invade and force Rob into submission. But Stannis rejects this idea. He knows an invasion of the North will be anything but simple. If the Northmen don't crush his army, the harsh weather and famine will. But Renley sees another idea. Then don't defeat them. Win them over. You expect to rule them, so they expect you to protect them. Why should outlaws and rebels expect protection from the king they are fighting against? They shouldn't. But that is why our aid will mean all the more. If we were to free the North from the Ironborn, its people would welcome us as saviors. They will question why they decided to break off from the crown, and they will question what possessed Rob to try and declare independence. Perhaps they may even reject him as king. It's true, your grace. For us common folk, most of us won't even see the king in our lifetime. We don't care who sits the Iron Throne as long as it doesn't affect us. But to see the king working to your aid, riding to your rescue, that means something. intriguing. But as I said, the North is an unforgiving land. If we do arrive to aid them, we will be stretching our supply lines to their limits. The people will not immediately welcome us, and we may have to contend with them as much as the Ironborn, assuming we can even march that far. Then don't attack the North. What if we strike at the Ironborn directly? My spies tell me that the Iron Fleet occupies Mode Kalin. With them occupied there, we can strike at their heart in the Iron Islands. Perhaps you have more knowledge on military matters than I gave you credit for. This might work. With most of the royal fleet in King's Landing, Stannis has the fastest ships sail with him, while the bulk of the operation will be conducted by the new master of ships, Paxster Redwine, and his fleet. Their ships sail along the Sunset Sea. And true to Renley's information, the Iron Islands are unguarded. The few ships that are there are long ships carrying back loot and throls from the mainland. In Lord's sport, some long ship crews are laughing and trading tales of their success terrorizing the Northmen, but their laughter is cut short as they hear the sound of flapping sails. A few raiders stop and look out. Their amusement turns to terror as they see the sails of the fiery heart of Stannis fluttering in the breeze. They try to rouse themselves and take to the seas, but it is too late and the nearest galleys smash into them. The smaller ships are tossed aside and their crews leap overboard to try and save themselves. Within minutes, the Ironborn are scattered and the galleys begin releasing men onto Pike. This is a scene that mirrors itself across the rest of the archipelago. Oldwick, Harlaw, and Oakmonts. Tens of thousands of Greenlanders storm the islands. These come from Dorne, the Reach, Stormlands, and even a few from the Westerlands. Though they have their differences, their hatred of the Ironborn brings them together. The coastal castles and towns quickly find themselves under threat, facing the same raids that the Ironborn had happily inflicted on the Seven Kingdoms. That doesn't mean they fall easily, though. Many Ironborn flee to the hills and mountains, waging a guerilla war while long ships appear in and out of rocky inlets, raiding Stannis' supply lines. Yet the king of Westeros comes prepared and beats back these scattered defenses. He advances across Pike, taking every castle in town he comes across. The castle of Pike resists stubbornly with Balon too proud to beg or yield a second time, forcing Stannis to lay siege to them. But the effects of this attack are felt immediately. Victarion is forced to abandon Mo Kalin, and Asha leaves Deepwood M. Other northern castles are abandoned, too. Left with only small garrisons to protect them. This is where Davos strikes. Taking those speedy ships off the royal fleet, he sailed them to the stony shore and contested these garrisons. With a small but well supplied army, Davos begins a lightning campaign to take these places back. He is aided by the Northmen, who eagerly offer their support to this relief army. And soon, the stag of House Baratheon flies across several major citadels. Davos wins his greatest victory when his fleet ambushes the Iron Fleet off the coast of Orcmont alongside the Redwin Fleet, scattering the enemy. Meanwhile, Stannis unleashes Melisandre upon Pike. With her shadow assassin, it slaughters the centuries along one section of the wall, letting Sir Clayton Scug scale the walls and open the gates for them. For the second time, Pike falls to the Iron Throne. This time, though, there is no mercy. Balon Greyjoy is not spared and let out in chains. His titles and lordship are stripped from him. House Greyjoy itself is extinguished as all the members who participated in this war are executed. Pike is garrisoned by a royal force and lordship of the Iron Islands pass onto House Harlon with Lord Rodri the reader a known denter on both Greyjoy rebellion and Balon's invasion of the north. But as the victorious fleet returns to King's Landing, Stannis is visited by northern ambassadors who have come to parlay. After seeing their actions in the North and Iron Islands, Rob is more inclined to make peace. And part is that he understands that rebelling against a man who just saved his domain would be a poor look. Something that helps sweeten the deal is Melisandre revealing her visions to the ambassadors, hinting that Bran might still be alive and offering to help find him. Rob agrees under the terms that Sans returned immediately along with Ned's bones, that of his household and his sword, Ice. They are to be forgiven and Rob is allowed to remain ruler of Winterfell. Stannis agrees to these terms and the North is brought back into the fold. With this done, the rest of the holdouts all bend the knee. The Veil offers their falty. The Dornish agree as well and even the remaining Lannisters under Kevin bend the knee. But while the war of swords might be coming to an end, the hidden knives of politics begin to come out. Stannis and Renley's relationship, already cold, grows even more distant when it comes to divide the spoils. Stannis fully intends to sweep the court clean and reform the nobility. Many Lannister loyalists are removed from power, but also those who Stannis deems corrupt or weak. Many who stood by and did nothing are removed, and nobles and merchants found abusing their authority or trying to profit off the suffering of the small folk are punished. Cravens, drunks, and rapers are all dealt with harshly, but the problems come from the top. Remley had made it clear he must offer some concessions to the Tyrells for their support, something Stannis understood, though it never ceased to bother him. What he didn't expect was just how much they would demand. He offers Paxton Red Wine the title of Master of Ships and Randall Tarly, Master of Laws, for their role in ending the war. More importantly, the latter agrees with Stannis and eagerly carries out his mission to deal with corruption. Yet Mace continues to petition for more reach room to be made part of the small council. His uncle G to be made master of coin. Sir Aries lord commander of the king's guard. Even a nephew to be made grand maester. Stannis accepted Randle Tarly and Paxter Redwine because they were men of talent. But this is too much. He did not wish to make a court full of flatterers and cronies. These are all rejected. In their place, Axter Florent is made master of coin, Sir Balen Swan, Lord Commander, and Maester is selected from the Citadel. Oberin Martell is also made part of the small council. But perhaps the most controversial pick Stannis makes is regarding his hand. While Mace Tyrell fancies himself for that position, the king stuns the court by raising Sir Davos Seaworth to this position. For the Tyrells, this is a grave insult. Not only was Mace passed over, but he was passed over for a commoner. The Tyrells are furious and Renley tries to plate both sides. Brother, I understand not placing Mace's hand, but surely you could have found someone a bit more respected. One of his sons or Lord High Tower, even Lord Florent. Surely he would take no offense to that. I will not choose my hand based on who will be offended. I chose Sir Davos because he has given me good counsel in the past, and I have no doubt he will continue to do so. Do I need to remind you that he was the one who supported your Ironborn invasion, and I am grateful for that? And he certainly has earned some reward. But a title like this, isn't it too much? That is not your decision to make. You may be my heir, but you're not king yet. I will not have some lord overreach himself and forget who king is, especially one as fairweathered as Ma Tyrell. The two part ways, angry and frustrated. With these words, Renley is unable to fully mend the gap between the two. Though Mace doesn't rebel or withdraw his support entirely, he begins to scale things down. Food subsidies are reduced, and his bannermen and the small council resist some of Stannis's more dramatic reforms. Mace has other lordlings gather around him, especially when Stannis begins to put more protections on the small folk, but for the most part, Stannis can make do thanks to the Dornish supports to counterbalance the Reach. Oberin proves adept at handling dissenters, and the most violent or radical are dealt with quietly. However, Renley still has considerable influence within the Reach in Stormlands and advocates for their cause. However, this conflict would not be too serious in a time of peace. But peace does not last, especially in the north. True to his word, Stannis continues to search for Bran and Rickon Stark, leading him to cooperate with the Northern Lords and the Nights Watch. In the middle of this search, they hear reports that a great wildling host is approaching the wall, and the Night's Watch appeals for help from Stannis. The king agrees and initially plans on sending a token force to reinforce Rob Stark's army, but Malisandre urges for stronger action. As she looks through the flames, she senses something. The wildlings are not a threat. Numerous as they are, most of their warriors are armed with bronze and stones and a few rusted long swords. They wear ragged furs, all bronze and rusted steel. Rob Stark's forces should be more than sufficient. This does not require the king's presence. A handful of men will not be enough, your grace. The free folk are not the threat you must fear. It is what they flee from. Something is stirring in their untamed lands. Something that will come south. What could be so dangerous that the free folk will abandon their homes? The great other, the long night is coming. Ask their wood witches and seers, and they shall say the same thing. The king must bear witness to this. Stannis begins organizing a relief army, asking men from the seven kingdoms to help him. He gathers several thousand men to join him. But one place that proves troublesome is the reach, where Mace refuses to send his men to fight in the far north. He tries to plate Stannis with some cash subsidies, but the king does not forget this. The snow falls thick beyond the wall, cloaking the haunted forest in white silence. Stannis rides at the head of his army, flying banners of the fiery stag. Beside him, Melisandre rides in her crimson robes as they follow the guides the Night's Watch provided them. The wildlings, thousands strong, charge across the tundra. Their numbers are impressive, but as Stannis predicted, they are poorly equipped and disorganized. That doesn't mean they lack bravery as the wildlings throw themselves into battle just in the plains outside Castle Black. As the wildlings swarm the smaller Westerosi army, working to surround and crush them. Bronze swords clash against steel. Furs and hide offer little protection against wellarmored men of the realm. The disciplined forces of the kingdoms led by Stannis crush them with ruthless efficiency. It is a swift and brutal route. Thousands are killed with only giants offering some meaningful resistance. Yet even their escape is cut off as Stannis pursues them relentlessly. Though Jon Snow urges mercy and tells them that they do not wish to raid the seven kingdoms. When the battle is done and the survivors rounded up, Stannis orders the leaders brought before him. Man raider, battered and bloody, kneels before the king. You've won, but we were never your enemy. The dead walk, and they do not care for thrones or crowns. They will not fall as easy as this. What you refer to is the great other wildling. The long night is coming. I The dead are coming alive and in greater numbers than ever before. I've seen them. The White Walkers. This threat is real. The wall alone will not stop them. Stannis listens. For all his stubborn pride, he can see that three people from such different paths confirming this rumor means it is far more than a tall tale. Jon Snow, you and Mance shall handle the crossing. You will keep the wildlings in check. Work with your brother to ensure peace, and I will help man the wall. He begins strengthening the defenses of the wall. He sends word across the seven kingdoms, calling for levies and engineers. Blacksmiths and masons, fire and stone are to be brought north. He orders dragon glass to be mined and begins sending ravens south, but the realm does not answer as he hopes. While lords are happy enough to send their criminals and undesirabs to the wall, they are less willing to part with their gold and craftsmen. The most vocal of these is Mae Tyrell, who sees it as chasing dreams and shadows. He sends some coin, but no soldiers. A simple token gesture. Even Renley urges him to reconsider and tells him that he's already won the throne. These actions only drive men away and make it seem as though Stannis is looking for war. Stannis reminds him that their duty is to the people, but Renley laughs it off, telling him that they must ensure their people get enough to eat, that nothing interrupts their farms, not even whispers of doom. Their words sting. Their refusal stings deeper. Stannis does not forget and instead turns to an old rival, Kevin Lannister. While the Lannister believes these claims as much as Renley and Mace, he also understands them as an opportunity to regain power and influence. He helps Kevin slowly rebuild their influence, marrying Shireen to Lancel Lannister. And in exchange, he offers the wealth of Castleie Rock and more recruits. But with this alliance does not just come money. They also share intelligence with Kevin, offering the old reports left over from the time of Joffrey. Most are inconsequential, but there is one that Kevin wanted to keep close, especially now. Reports from Pantos and Volantis. A girl with silver hair, three dragons alive. She is carving a path through Slaver's Bay. Daenerys Targaryen. I've heard whispers of such things, too. Are they verified? The dragons are real. I have seen them. A shadow of wings over fire. The flames do not lie. Three dragons, another Targaryen in a claim to the throne. She is fire reborn. But only one shall wield the Lightbringer. She is not the enemy. Not yet. And she may not become one. You want me to bring her here? You must go to her. She must see the true king, the one Azor Ahai reborn. If she will kneel, let her kneel. If she will rise against you, we will meet her with flame. But as this report is presented to the capital in court, laughter is what greets them. Not just from the Tyrells, but by his brother. Renley lounges beneath the Red Keep's high windows, surrounded by courtesier and knights. Loris pours wine. The small folk adore him. The lords listen if he gives these words, but he does not. A silver-haired girl across the world. Yes, Robert was obsessed with killing her. Seems for good reason. She turned out to be a greater threat than ever. A threat to Chiscari slavers. Let her conquer cities. Those are a thousand leagues away. My brother has grown fond of flames and doom. And it seems he inherited one of Robert's obsessions as well. Still behind the charm, behind the honeyed smiles, Renley tightens his grip on the court. He dines with the high septum. He restores gifts to the faith. He even ensures that Tyrell's hold more coin and influence than ever before. All the while, Stannis looks beyond the wall and across the narrow sea for threats. Though no one criticizes him openly, the others grow concerned, wondering whether Stannis is truly stable enough to rule. Renley continues to assure them of Stannis's sanity, though his words are what decide people's support rather than Stannis's actions. But without the armies of Westeros, Stannis can only call upon his household and immediate retainers. the houses of the narrow sea and a handful of stormlands. Sir Davos raises these men, about 8,000 in all, and prepares them to sail. And yet, it is not enough, and Malisandre knows it. She tells him there is a way to raise himself up beyond swords, something that shall make him Daenerys's equal. At Dragonstone, the storm begins. Balon Greyjoy kneels in chains before the stone drum. I am the Kraken. You'll choke on my name. You're no king, only a usurper. And fire devours all false kings. Outside, the wind screams. Malisandre chants in a tongue older than the wall. Fires blaze in a circle around the dragon mound crater. Despite the rain, the fires continue to burn bright and surrounds the old Kraken. Balon dies screaming. The earth rumbles. The smoke thickens. Something moves in the fire. A shape. A shriek. Wings unfurling like banners of shadowing flame. From the heart of dragonstoneone, a dragon is born. Not the size of legends, but no hatchling either. Its scales shimmer obsidian and bronze. Its eyes glow gold. Stannis names it Lightbringer. He does not wait. With a small fleet, he sets sail. The dragon circling above like a vengeful comet. The people of Drift Mark and Dragonstone cry out in awe and fear as the beast passes overhead. Black sails and red fire mark his departure. He leaves Renley behind to rule, to charm, to dance for the realm. Stannis sails east towards the dragon queen. In Slavers Bay, the pyramids of marines still smoke from the last resistance. Though it has been months since she captured it, Queen Daenerys has little time to enjoy her success. As reports already surface that the slavers she spared are now raising an army in rebellion. They have gathered thousands of fresh slave soldiers and marched towards Astapor. Though it was the first city she captured, it has already fallen and the slavers are uniting, emboldened by her stretched forces and weakened allies. She stands at top the Great Pyramid as the red sun bleeds across the horizon. Below the unsullied stand in silent rows, but they are too few. Her Dothraki and Cell swords hunger for war, but they must win here first. Her children grow stronger by the day, yet they are wild, half-traed, half tame. Then the sky changes. A roar cuts through the desert heat. A shadow passes over Meereen. Not Drogon, not Rhaegal, not Viserion. A new cry, sharp and strange. a new dragon. Her blood runs cold. Then she sees ships bearing the symbol of Westerosi horses. They are few, too few to be an invasion force, but large enough to contest her tiny fleet. When her sailors move to intercept them, they return with a strange request. Their king wishes to meet them. Not Robert, but Stannis. They meet in the throne room of Meereen. Stannis enters without prompt. He wears black and red. The stag sigil altered. The heart is still burning. Behind him walks Davos, weathered and quiet. At his shoulder, Melisandre glides like a flame given form. Above them, Lightbringer roars, looking around as the other three dragons circle him, curious. Daenerys watches from her throne of carved black and broken chains. Her silver hair gleams. Her eyes do not flinch. You come far and bring fire. I come to make war. Drogon growls from the balcony, smoke curling from his nostrils, but Stannis does not move. To whom do you bring war to? Your enemies. Yung Kai marches on you with a horde of slavers in their famed lockstep legions. I can stop them. I am willing to offer my aid. And why would a Baratheon help a Targaryen? There is emnity between Alouses. Not as much as there is friendship. The Baratheonss and Targaryenss fought together side by side for 300 years. Until the Baratheonss broke that trust. Your father was a madman who would have sooner ruled a land of ash instead of making peace with his foes. He saw threats in every shadow and let fools lead him astray. But I did not come here to trade barbs. I came here to say you are not the enemy. I have come with a bargain. You need allies now, and I want your aid when I return to Westeros. The North prepares for the true war. I do not need your banners now. I need them when the long night falls. The enemy is not the slaver. It is the shadow beyond the wall. The cold that devours. You come with riddles, with omens and demands. You expect me to trust you? I expect you to see reason. You are surrounded. The slavers will come with gold, ships, and sell swords. You can die here for pride or live to break chains another day. Have you never let your pride cost lives, Stannis Baratheon? He hesitates. A flicker of memory crosses his face as he recalls how he prepared to go to war against his brother. Nearly destroyed him for it if Renley didn't prepare to make an alliance. I have. Drogon snarls again. Daenerys walks down from the throne until she stands face to face with him. You say you will aid me, but what if I refuse to repay it? I'll hold you to your word. If you break it, I'll find another way. But I would rather have you beside me than against me. Sand and ash churn beneath thousands of charging hooves. Daenerys rides at the head of her Kalisar and Celsorts, silver hair streaming. Drogon shrieks overhead, his wings blotting out the sun. While Lightbringer, the dragon of stone and fire reborn by Stannis, unleashes fire across the slaver lines from the other flank. Stannis commands the infantry. Unsullied Westerosce veterans from his fleet form a disciplined core. They march in unison, shields locked, banners of the stag, and the three-headed dragon flying side by side for the first time in centuries. Against the fire, the Junish army crumbles. Their cell swords flee under the wrath of dragons. Through the flames, the infantry pushes forward. Slavers burn in their tents or are impaled on unsullied spears. Daenerys whirls around and makes another pass, directing her troops forward. The cell swords whirl around and surround the army as it advances through the plains. Though they had won an instapor, they will get nowhere near Meereen. Now, as they reach Aapor, things prove to be complicated as the city remains in Slaver's hands. So Stannis begins organizing his armies for a siege. They surround the city while he flies a top Lightbringer. His dragon roars and flaps his wings just beyond arrow range. For many, it seems like Stannis intends to burn the city out. Daenerys urges otherwise as she fully intends to recapture it. Yet Stannis continues to circle the east walls, sometimes getting close enough for them to lose arrows, and the dragon sends men scattering. But then the real attack comes from the west. The dragon is a simple ploy as Davos leads a smaller contingent to strike. Daenerys watches this in awe, seeing how Stannis doesn't just use his dragon as a weapon, but also as a way to outsmart and outthink the enemy. As the Western Wall struggles to hold them back, Daenerys leads her own troops to join in the effort. And soon, Aapar falls as well. In the weeks that follow, order is restored. Stannis, Grim and Tireless, oversees the reconstruction of defenses. Davos works with Grey Worm to establish guard posts. Melisandre walks the streets in red robes, seeking out the sons of the harpy, burning them in hidden rituals before they can strike again. While Daenerys is idealistic in her wishes to help their people, Stannis is the one with a vision to realize that dream. He has the energy to fight and the experience to rule, helping her establish herself more firmly than ever before. He also leaves a handful of advisers to help maintain order. Meanwhile, in High Garden, Renley lounges in rose silk robes, idly spinning a goblet of wine. But his smile fades as his good father speaks. You sit here playing steward while your brother fights wars half a world away. The nobles whisper, Renley. They say the true king does not even show his face. They say Stannis has abandoned the realm to chase off dreams. Stannis does what he always does. Broods embarks orders no one wants to follow. But he is a man of duty and will come back. And so the realm must endure these bouts of madness. No. Westeros deserves a firm hand and a king who is present. You he named himself king. I am his heir. Am I meant to raise my banner just to please you? Not for me. The realm. Until Stannis returns, are we simply expected to act out in his name? We do not even know if he lives. But with this plan in place, Mace begins to call his swords and urge them to crown Renley as they originally planned in the war of the five kings. Now with Randall Tarly and Paxter Redwin in the small council, they might have the support to push the others into agreeing, especially since Melisandre and Davos are gone. Yet Oberin does not back down, and neither does Kevin, who raises his troops in support of Stannis. Together, the Dornish and Westermen begin to gather their hosts and challenge Mace, trying to keep him contained. Skirmishes begin to break out in the border territories as Kevin invades the Reach in retaliation. But Mace already begins his march up north. Meanwhile, Renley remains at King's Landing as he broods over what to do. But as he looks up at the Iron Throne, which has stood empty at top for months, he ascends it and calls for all forces to halt. Renley proclaims that no Dornishman or Western who took up arms against him will be punished. Instead, they shall be allowed to return and he shall rule only until Stannis returns. However, if after a month he does not come back, then they shall claim him as king. The compromise is accepted and the army slowly return to their castle, save for Mace, who flies back to reinforce Renley's rule. For the next few months, Renley helps secure the realm as best he can. With Stannis gone, he reduces the money the lords have to pay for the wall and throws lavish feasts and hunts to distract the lords from the current troubles despite Stannis's urging of frugal court. For a while, things begin to calm down and even Stannis's supporters have to admit that the peace has been beneficial. That is until the sounds of wings echo through the skies of King's Landing like a thunderclap from the gods. People scream, some pray, others drop to their knees and weep. For the first time in over a century, a dragon descends upon the capital. It lands a top the broken dome of Dragon Pit. Smoke trailing from its nostrils. Lightbringer, Stannis Baratheon's beast, roars once and silence swallows the city. Renley hurries to the dragon pit alongside Kevin and Oberin with hundreds of gold cloaks to confront the threat. But he freezes when he sees Stannis standing before him. He is leaner than before. The lines on his face deeper, the shadows beneath his eyes darker. He has not returned as the same man who left. He is fireforged now. And it shows your grace. The realm has held, but only barely. He returned to a delicate moment. Delicate. I'd say combustible. And now there is a dragon. Ma Tyrell has gathered banners in the reach. Not open rebellion, not yet. But they speak of concern about your absence. So they are here to ensure Rem's rule. They doubt their king. Can you blame them? You've been gone for half a year, brother. I hope your journeys were enlightening. You raised banners. I needed to show strength. While you were away flying through the skies, I was here holding the line. You presume too much. Do I? Tell me, brother, how many of these men trust you? How many of them would have stayed loyal if not for me and the reach holding court? If I hadn't broken peace, then the southern half of your realm would have consumed itself in war. Half of them wanted me as king. The other half wanted me to stay away from the throne. And yet you conveniently backed those who put a crown on your head. And what did you do when Robert crowned himself? I held the line while you chased destiny. There's a flicker in Stannis's eyes. The memory stirs. The siege of Storm's End. The rats and cats they had to eat. The way Robert vanished into legend while Stannis kept them alive. The way Robert had barely even acknowledged things. You speak the truth. Renley blinks, surprised by the admission. The man who stays behind always seems the lesser. Unless he's the one who saves the kingdom. A long silence falls over the room. Then what now? Will you cast me aside? Burn me like the others who disobeyed. Stannis looks at the lords gathered to Mace now shifting uncomfortably to the storm lords half ready to bolt. He sees what his absence has seown. He sees the soil Renley has tilled. No, there are no kings but one. And I am that king. I will not burn those who held the realm. I would have named you regent had I thought to trust anyone. I suppose I cannot fault you for doing your duty. You have my forgiveness and my thanks. The brothers clasp their wrists. The hall exhales, and above them, Lightbringer screams as if to seal the pact. Together, the two Baratheonss build on the peace Renley has established, working to ensure that the lords continue to trust them, pacifying those who might rebel with a mixture of diplomacy, concessions, and military force. And bit by bit, Stannis reestablishes his name. Even Mace Tyrell is cowed, especially once Stannis threatens to strip him of his lordship. But then a raven arrives from Castle Black. Bran Stark has been found. Or rather, he has found them. Guided by whispers of roots and ravens, of ice cracking and the dead stirring, appearing to men in their dreams and urging them to aid him. There is something in the far north. A cave, a tree, a secret the dead wish to bury beneath the winter forever. Stannis gathers 2,000 knights to help them. He had promised to aid them in the past and cannot ignore it now. And yet, he also finds it difficult to simply leave the Iron Throne. He recalls the words of Renley. The boy must be protected. If his dreams hold true, then we are out of time. The blood of the green sear stirs the flames. He is touched by something older than the gods. But who shall command them? You've only just crushed the rebellion. You are king, Stannis, not a hedge knight chasing ghosts through snow. A hush falls over the room. Even Melisandre cannot contradict the wisdom. Let me go. You've given me the realm to hold. I know what that means to you. I don't believe in green sears or walking corpses, but if the Stark boy lives, then I suppose that's something. Let the realm see you, and I'll take care of things. I thank you, brother. Weeks pass. The north grows darker. Snow thickens. The wind howls like a thousand ghosts. Renley rides with the best of the Baratheon banners and knights sworn to the watch. They vanish into the white silence. Then one night, Stannis dreams. It is not fire that fills his sleep, but ice. He sees a tree with a weeping face. A boy's voice calls his name. ancient and young at once. He sees a great wall shatter like glass. Cold shadows were crawling over the land. He sees a dragon's wings spread above the north and then flicker, falter, and fall. Come now with all your strength. The dead march. Stannis wakes in a cold sweat. Lightbringer thrashes in its stony roost above the red keep, screaming into the night. He gathers his banners at once and urges them to the wall. Stannis flies on ahead of his army, leaving Davos to gather his troops and assemble the fleet. When Stannis arrives at Castle Black, he finds devastation. Renley limps from the gate, cloak torn, blade bloodied. Behind him, a handful of men remain and a boy in furs with eyes too old for his face. Bran Stark took your time. What happened? They were waiting. The cave gave us answers, but the dead came before we could leave. Whites, creatures of ice and nightmare. We burned half the woods just to escape. It was everything your red woman said. The wall is protected by old magic. Runes buried in stone. But something is cracked, the spells, something unholy, something that should not fly. They all look up and Lightbringer circles above, its wings beating like thunder. No. Whatever you sacrificed, whatever right you used to raise the dragon, it broke the seals. The wall is failing. Stannis sits alone that night in the shadow of the wall. The fire burns low. Guilt claws at his insides like rot. Renley approaches, wrapped in a thick fur cloak. He sits beside his brother. Eyes on the flame. So you may have doomed the realm. Stannis says nothing. Come now. That's a Baratheon talent. I suppose I did it for the war to come. For the prophecy. I thought I thought I was saving the realm. You were just in your way. If you hadn't acted out in your own way and done all the things I told you not to do, well, the wall might have fallen differently. I think I understand you now. All of it. The fire, the burden. He rests a hand on Stannis's shoulder. We'll fix it together. Besides, it isn't like Lightbringer is our only dragon. Stannis looks up at the wall, at the black horizon beyond. The wall stands as the last bastion against the horrors beyond. But tonight it feels like it might not be enough. As the dead start coming, Stannis Baratheon stands at the wall's edge, his dragon, Lightbringer, roaring in the air above him. The beast soarses over the advancing dead, its fiery breath scorching the frozen ground. Stannis urges it forward. Soon, the air fills with arrows and dead things as undead ravens, hawks, and bats rush at Lightbringer, but the dragon sweeps his head around, engulfs them in flames. It turns its attention to the plains and forest below and unleashes its dragon fire upon the trees. The dead come streaming out like ants from a flooding nest. Their bodies collapsing as they run. But how long can they hold? The dead are relentless. They surge forward in waves, too many to count. The first line of whites meets Lightbringer's fiery breath with screeches that are drowned in the roaring flames. Flesh boils and melts, but more take their place, and the flames cannot stop them all. Renley stands on the wall, his golden armor catching the light of the flames. His face is set, but his voice is calm as he issues orders. Form ranks, reinforce the defenses. Even in the face of certain doom, his men rally at his call. Stannis surveys the battlefield from the back of Lightbringer, trying to make sense of the chaos. The fire is doing its work, but it is not enough. The dead are too many. The wall, their only advantage, is starting to feel insignificant against this tide. Behind him, Melisandre stands, her red robes rippling in the cold wind. She raises her hands towards the heavens, her voice low, chanting in the language of the Lord of Light. A fireball erupts from her fingertips, soaring high above the battlefield, striking down whites in a flash of fiery light. She is Stannis's weapon, burning the dead with every flick of her hand. Others watch as their weapons come alive with fire, blessed with a lord of light. For days they hold out, reinforcements trickling in. First come the wildlings of Mance Raider. Then the soldiers of the north, whose ferocity and experience are crucial help. Then after 10 days pass, Sir Davos arrives with the army from the south. Word is sent to Daenerys, but she is still many days away. The days they do not have the reinforcements are still not enough. The dead continue to press forward. Unyielding and overwhelming numbers begin to wear down the defenders. Though the wall defends itself, the whites continue their ascent, ignoring chilling cold and the falling stones. The men at top must battle with the darkness itself, and the whites who eagerly swarm them. Bran, deep in the Weirwood tree, reaches out across the world, tapping into the wilds. Wolves, bears, giants. They answer his call. The creatures charge onto the battlefield, adding their ferocity to Renley's forces. For a moment, the tide shifts. The whites falter, distracted by the wild beasts, but it's brief. The dead are relentless, and the beasts can only slow them down. Their ferocity is nothing to the dead, which have no fear. Hold them. We are living. We will not let the dead take this realm. His words are filled with the fire of a leader, and his men rally. But still, the dead press on. The living are pushed back. Stannis sees this and others retreat as Lightbringer circles. Lightbringer charges forward once more. Fire scorching the undead in its path, and soon the wall is abandoned. Men flee deeper south. They flee across the gift, setting fire to it as they do, trying to slow down the dead. Bran comes to Stannis's aid, unleashing the wild beasts upon them. Summer leads the charge, tearing into the dead. It slows them down, and Reley can organize an army and set up their retreat. For days and days, they fight a running retreat, never stopping and just ignoring the hisses and shrieks of the night. As they approach Winterfell, a jagged black spear pierces the dragon's wings. Lightbringer screeches, veering out of control as Stannis struggles to regain control. The beast spirals downward, crashing to the ground with a mighty thud. Snow and debris explode from the impact. Stannis is thrown from the dragon's back, landing hard in the snow, his armor is battered, his body bruised. He struggles to his feet, drawing his sword. The dead close in around him. Bran sends the beasts to save him. But this time, they are not enough and scatter. The dead are closing in. Just as Stannis is about to be overwhelmed, a flash of fire catches his eye. A figure draped in flames is cutting through the whites. It's Daenerys. With Drogon at her side, she swoops down from the sky. Fire rains from Drogon's maw, incinerating the whites in its path. The ground shakes as Drogon lands next to Stannis, scattering the undead. Daenerys dismounts, her silver hair glowing in the fire light, her face set with determination. Get up. Together, we will stop this. Stannis nods, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared fight. Renley rallies his men once more as he sees this. Behind them, the Unsullied and Cell swords rally them, closing the gaps in their line. We take this fight to them now. Drogon unleashes another burst of fire, burning through them as Renley leads the charge. Fire, dragon glass, and steel struck down the dead. Renley led from the front, his blade whirling around as he cut through them. But the Night King, their true enemy, stands at the back of the dead, his cold eyes fixed on Stannis. The moment arrives. The Night King approaches, his icy hand raised to strike down Stannis, but Renley blocks the blow just as Stannis rushes forward, his dragon glass sword slashing at him. The two brothers rush at the Night King, slashing their blades at each other. The Night King backs away, parrying each strike before sweeping his sword at them, but neither man falters against the chaos, continuing to rush at them as the fires burn bright around them. Then Lightbringer rises and smashes its tail against the Night King, sending him crashing to the ground. The two rush at him in an instant, driving their swords into him. The creature explodes in a blizzard of snow and ice. The dead are no longer bound to him, and they begin to fall back. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the living are victorious. The dead collapse all around them. Stannis, Renley, and Daenerys stand together, their weapons still raised and regard each other. After the battle, the Baratheonss thank Daenerys for her aid, promising to aid her should the need arise, and to begin working to have slavery abolished in the free cities by restricting trade. Meanwhile, Stannis now finally enjoys a time of peace. And with that, he allows Renley to take more responsibility, trusting him as his heir now more than ever. With that, it brings some much needed stability. That's our theory. Westeros is a land filled with exciting stories and possibilities, and we love exploring them. If you want to accompany us on this journey across the seven kingdoms and beyond, then please like, share, and subscribe to our