if we die, i lose / stannis and davos / fb: greyjoy rebellion
Robert's Small Council had barely warmed their seats when RobertâEmperor Robert now, Stannis reminded himself for the nth timeâcalled for his banners. The Greyjoys were in rebellion. A wiser emperor would have been threatened by the idea. Rebellions were bad for business. But Robert was not a wise emperor. His blood still ran battle-hot, his spirit at its most vivid with his war hammer in his hand and a rain of phaser fire dogging his feet.
Before Robert could don his armor, Jon Arryn gave caution. Emperors did not fight wars.
The Imperial fleet was a skeleton at best. Soldiers were tired. The Red Keep still smelled of burned metal. Corpses littering the station had yet to be completely disposed of. They were not ready for another war.
This will not be a war, Robert had said, incensed not by the gall of the Greyjoys but by his forced inaction. This is a tantrum not worth a damn. Beat them down. Beat them all down.
Their enemies were experienced pilots. They made currency out of conquest. It fell on The North to subdue their errant bannermen, and on Stannis to command the fleet.
Days before the campaign northward, Stannis surveyed his command in the hangars of the Red Keep. While ships had been commisioned for the siege of DragonstoneâFury, Lord Steffon, and Laughing Lord, proud sons of the Rebellionâthey were untried against lightning quick raiders. This paltry fleet. He grit his teeth.
In truth, they had an adequate fleet. It would not be an easy victory, but with Eddard Stark's soldiers it would not be impossible either. Clenched fists tight at his back, Stannis' worry was not in their might but in him. He had but one victory under his belt against a floating rock of a station that, by the time he'd arrived in its airspace, had already been vacated by half of its ships. Pyke was not Dragonstone.
