Chapter Text
As Stannis rides on his stallion through the old gate of Winterfell all he could think of is how cold the bloody place is, even colder than he has imagined. He was born and raised in Storm's End and he was quite convinced the freezing air and the howling wind of the sea have made him immune to any extreme temperature. Well he sees that he is wrong now. Winterfell has made both Storm's End and Dragonstone seem as warm as the cities across the Narrow Sea. No one has ever mentioned to him how easy it actually is for a man to give up to the cold and fall off his horse to die, just like one of his soldiers the night before. Knights of Summer, they are, and when winter comes they will die, he now understands that perfectly. Stannis looks over his shoulder and sees Melisandre sitting rather comfortably on her horse. She has her chin held up with a faint smile on her face. She is wearing very little clothing for such a harsh ride as this. Her crimson gown barely covers her breasts and her collarbone is showing, exposing the whole of her neck to the cold air of the north. The golden necklace she always hangs around her neck glimmers faintly in the pale white winter sunlight. The red ruby inlaid on the accessory seems to be flickering with a fire burning within. Stannis quickly turns back his head and stares straightly ahead. He is curious how the red woman keep warm in this weather, but he knows for sure she would answer with something very similar to 'the Lord of Light has his fire burning inside me' or 'the cold has no effect on the true servant of the Lord of Light'. Empty talks. Religious words. Stannis has little faith for her god when his army is thinning day by day, with men dying here and there. Reflectively Stannis looks to his left and searches for his counselor, but immediately remembers his onion knight is away in the White Harbor trying to win the mermen over to join his force. It feels oddly strange without the smuggler by his side. He seems to be the only one that has not had his head filled with the words of this Lord of Light and would gladly give him honest opinions on any matters these days.
"Stannis Baratheon first of his name, king of the Andals, the Rhoynar of the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." One of his men proclaims to the receiving party as Stannis climbs off his horse. The way into the castle has been blocked by northmen clad in thick furs with swords in their hands and hostile glares on their long and pale faces.
"And Azor Ahai reborn, bringer of light and the rightful king the Lord of Light has chosen." Melisandre adds behind him as she also climbs off her horse, her voice soft but firm.
Stannis turns his neck and gives her a cold stare. He does not like it when the red priestess speaks when it is not time for her to speak or when she talks of the her god inside these walls. The northmen are famous for their traditionalism if not their stubbornness. They worship trees, for god's sake. Declaring him a follower of a foreign god would not gain him any respect nor support, that is if this trip would actually gain him anything at all. He has discussed this with Melisandre, ordered her even, no mentioning of her god and definitely not of burning anything for sacrifice. He knows she would burn all the weirwood if she could in the name of her Lord of Light, but he is sure that would end up badly.
"I am simply stating what is true, my king." Melisandre returns his gaze with a knowing look. "They ought to know who you are and what you would offer."
"You would offer nothing but wars and deaths." Ser Rodrik shouts among the northmen that have gathered around them. The heavily-built old man looks frail and weary, but with authority in his voice, truly a soldier seasoned in battles. His words have immediately received a few nods and murmurs of agreement from the crowd.
"Aye. Wars and deaths indeed." Stannis says before the red woman can open her mouth. He looks at the northmen in turn until his eyes find and lock on Ser Rodrik's. "Wars and deaths upon your enemies who have slain your king and kins under their roof. Oath breakers, traitors, murderers. Freys, Boltons, Lannisters. " Stannis stares at the old knight, his eyes stern and unmoved, until the knight breaks in front of him. With angry tears in his eyes he lowers his sword and yells, along with the other northmen. "Aye! Justice for the King in the North! Aye!"
As the crowd clears a path Stannis walks into the keep of the ancient castle with Melisandre following him, her red cloak swirling behind her.
***************
"It was a convincing speech you made down there, my lord." Lady Catelyn comments as he enters the hall. Her voice trails off softly in the long distance between them.
"It is a king you are talking to and you should refer to him as 'your grace'." Melisandre declares, her tone scornful with a hint of dismay.
"My lady has no need for your correction, Melisandre." Stannis grinds his teeth and says to the red priestess. He has quite enough of her for the day, and the sun has not even set yet. "Leave us," he commands. His guards and squire nod curtly and turn away but the woman lingers. "Even you, Melisandre." Stannis says through his teeth. The red woman widens her eyes. For a second he thinks she may defy him, but she obeys and bows. "If that pleases you, my king." She turns and leaves the hall.
With no one around him Stannis makes his way to the front dais of the hall, where Lady Catelyn sits next to the empty grand seat that belongs to the Lord of Winterfell. Four guards with the direwolf sigil embroidered on their cloaks stand still nearby, ready to defend their Lady Stark at any time.
"My lady." He walks up to her and greets.
Catelyn offers him her hand. Stannis walks closer and lays a brief kiss on her knuckles. Her skin feels cool and delicate against his lips. He stands back as her beautifully blue but sad eyes watch him. He knows she is judging every bit of him and deciding whether he is trust worthy or not. When she has made a decision she waves her guards away. One hesitates and turns to face her. "It is fine, ser." Catelyn says, "I am with Stannis Baratheon. The man knows his manner."
As the door closes behind him Stannis realises how alone they are. When was the last time he was alone with a woman other than Melisandre or his late wife? The memory is lost to him.
"What is your matter here, my lord?" Catelyn asks.
"To offer my condolences for your loss, Lady Stark." Stannis replies as he suppresses his urge to grind his teeth. He fails to notice she still refuses to regard him as 'your grace'. He would be lying if he says this does not bother him. He himself has the only right in the seven kingdoms to be called a king. Any man otherwise is either an usurper or a product of incestuous acts. But Winterfell has yet to declare which king she serves since the death of her last one. The North has gone into chaos after the Red Wedding with the Boltons serving the iron throne and the so-called prince of Winterfell simply a crippled boy of eight with no experience in battles and politics. Stannis needs to win over the Starks, at least of what is remaining of them, and explictly reminding the lady of this house her dead son is an usurper and him alone is the rightful king would be deemed an unwise action to take. So, Stannis allows Catelyn to refer to him as 'my lord' if this is what she prefers. Manners and titles are not his first priority at the moment.
"Which loss?" She says. It strikes Stannis how easy these words slip through her lips. She asks him whose death he is referring to, her son or her husband, or the reported severe casualties of her house in the Red Wedding as if she is asking him about the weather. Stannis looks at the woman and finds her emotion inscrutable, as if she has none.
"All of them." seems to be a safe answer.
Lady Catelyn smiles, the first genuine hint of kindness she has expressed towards him since he stepped inside these walls. A good sign of trust, he hopes. "I am sure my lord did not travel all this way just to offer a widow his condolences." She sits up straight and puts her hands on the table.
"Indeed I did not," Stannis says slowly. "I come with a proposal," he needs to be very careful now. He has discussed this with Ser Davos on which approach would be the best that could serve him his cause. He just needs to execute his phrases cautiously without haste. Catelyn raises her brows and gives him a curious look, urging him to go on. He swallows nervously. He is a king and he did not flinch an inch before engaging into a bloodbath in the war but this, has made him very uncomfortable and he wants nothing more than to back away and leaves this bloody place. But he needs this. If he back away now the throne would be truly lost to him and no gods in the seven kingdoms old or new could help him. He lets out a soft sigh. "I come with a proposal to ask for your hand in marriage."
His words seem to have startled Catelyn who has been calm and would seem to be unsurprised to hear anything from anyone. She stands up from her chair, the wooden legs dragging on the stone floor making ugly and loud noises. Then she laughs, her laughter awkward and strange in the seriousness of this atmosphere.
"Did my lady find this amusing?" Stannis grinds his teeth so hard he is sure she could hear him from this short distance. He is confused. He expects her to be bemused, or angry even. He feels humiliated when she laughs at him, as if he is a naive child and has just suggested something absurd and impossible.
"Is my lord serious?" Catelyn sits back down with a grin on her face.
"Is your King never serious?" Stannis rebuts. His jaw is soar from all his grinding.
The grin on Catelyn's face is quickly wiped off and the hall immediately falls back to its former seriousness. The silence lingers as Catelyn stays speechless and seems to be struggling with the right response to give and Stannis too furious and offended to say anything else.
"Why?" She tests, after seemingly a long time.
"It would be best, for your son's house and mine." Stannis holds his hands tightly behind his back. He has prepared for this. "I can help you avenge your son and husband. One word and my men are yours, all ten thousand of them. Roose Bolton is spying on invading Winterfell. With the Lannisters proclaiming him the Warden of the North all that stand between him and his seat are your sons, Brandon and Rickon. My army could protect them." Stannis notices Catelyn stirs in her seat at the mentioning of her sons and knows he is on the right track. "And Lord Eddard Stark, before receiving the so-called mercy from the Lannisters, has personally written me a letter and proclaimed me the rightful king to the seven kingdoms," Catelyn turns her neck and looks away when the name of her late husband is heard, "so you see, my lady. I am simply following your lord husband's legacy, fulfilling his last wish. Only me on the iron throne could serve you the justice that you seek." Stannis finishes with his speech. Catelyn's eyes are sorrowful. She stands again and goes around the long table so that she could stand right in front of him. A rare urge to smile creeps up to Stannis as he knows for certain she would agree to the marriage. So this is what it feels to get what you want.
"No." She states blandly.
Stannis's mind cannot process what he just heard. He takes a huge step back and breathes in deeply, calming his rapidly beating heart. What does she mean by 'no'? Does this woman lack the capability to distinguish a good plan when one is presented? Can she not see how they would both benefit from this marriage? This is ridiculous. She is not to stand between me and my --
"You have once again produced a beautiful speech that could move any one, my lord. But I am not Ser Rodrik. The problem is," Catelyn seems to be able to see through his head and read off his questions, "I do not take you as an honorable man."
Stannis frowns. They say if Eddard Stark is the most honorable man in the seven kingdoms then Stannis Baratheon is the second. He has not misused his power just like his brother Robert had. His brother has whored and drunk himself into an early grave and certainly Lady Stark does not see him as his brother. Unlike his brother, he always does his duties. He held Storm's End because Robert ordered him to, even when it means the risk of his life. He made no complain when Robert cast him to Dragonstone, simply because he is honorable enough to follow his king's order. He chopped off Davos's fingers but granted him a lordship because he is a just man. He honors the service the onion knight has provided at his illest hours but he also honors the laws and has punished the smuggler rightfully. All the actions he has taken so far have done nothing but to show how honorable a man he is.
"I saw, with my own eyes," Catelyn explains, "A demonic shadow creeping out from the dark and slained your brother Renly inside his own tent with his men guarding outside. Brienne of Tarth was accused of killing Renly, the man whom she would gladly die for." She says, every word that escapes her mouth a pointy arrow aiming at Stannis. "If you are as honorable as you think you are, you won't have used witchcraft and magic to do your dirty work and nevertheless allow an innocent girl to be tainted with an accusation of a dreadful deed she holds no accountability for."
Stannis feels weak, but he is not giving up, not here when he has already embarrassed himself. He will not leave Winterfell without her agreement, he swears this to the old gods and new.
"Desperate measures at desperate times." He argues back. "Renly had made himself a traitor the day he called himself a king. He was unreasonable, impossible to argue with. You were present when I tried to reason with him, my lady. You heard me telling him I would even name him my heir if no son was born from me as long as he gave up this false claim. But no, he was to continue on this wrongful path for his mind was poisoned by the Tyrells that he thought he could actually become king before his older brother could. How is it honorable to kill thousands of men in a battlefield but not to kill a single traitor that could spare the lives of many? I used to love the boy, my lady, I really did. I watched him grew up and I practically raised him as my own when Robert would take no care of him when my parents died. I value family as much as you do, Catelyn."
Lady Stark shakes when her name rolls off his tongue. She looks half-convinced, if not fully. She paces in front of him, and in the first time ever she acts like she is considering his proposal.
"And Brienne?"
Stannis grinds when the issue is raised. "I would forgive Lady Brienne and remove all the stain of her name." It is hard to say these words of forgiveness for someone who wishes him dead, but he senses the need to compromise. Therefore, he compromises, just as he always does as a younger brother.
Catelyn paces around the hall for a relatively long time. Stannis is almost too impatient to wait for a response that seems will never come but any reckless move would cost him this marriage proposal. Finally, Catelyn turns to him. He urgently searches for hints of agreement but her eyes would not betray her thoughts.
"Done."
Stannis smiles.