The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Ours Is The Fury

He sat in the rookery at the very top of the Sea Dragon Tower, quill in hand, though the letter he was attempting to write was largely forgotten. 

Loreon Storm had only been to Dragonstone twice before this. The first time had been shortly after he arrived in court, a brief trip made with his father and several others. The second time had been when he was thirteen, and was an official courtly visit, which of course the king had insisted on bringing him on, both to spite the queen and show off his bastard son who looked so much like him. Ren had been with them, then, brought along as the squire to the Kingsguard. The two of them had spent their mornings sparring with the Dragonstone knights in the yard, and their afternoons exploring the crags and ridges of the island with a few of the local boys. 

They had even brought little Tommen along on one occasion, dressing him up in plainer clothes and claiming him as a pageboy. The prince had enjoyed himself greatly, making friends with some of the smallfolk boys his age and getting covered in dirt and dust like the rest of them, only to be scolded furiously by his mother upon their return, who demanded Loreon punished for leading her son into trouble. The king had just laughed, of course, saying he was glad Tommen was being toughened up. Loreon's dear aunt had given him hateful looks for the rest of the visit, though that was hardly any different from usual. Ren had somehow escaped blame on that occasion, as he normally did, by melting silently into the background without even trying as the queen had stormed into the yard to catch them coming back. He was irrelevant to Cersei, simply her brother's skinny northern squire, not worth bothering with. Lucky bastard, Loreon had remembered saying after, and his friend had smirked faintly.

Those days were only four years ago, but it felt like a lifetime since. 

Loreon glanced out to sea through one of the large arched windows, seeing the tiny speck of a fishing boat rolling on the waves, far away. He wasn't usually one to enjoy peace and quiet - he was like his father in that sense, at least - but recently he found that he did like being up here alone in the tower, where the only noise was that of the ravens, and the sea crashing onto the rocks far below them. There was only so much diplomacy and plotting he could take before even he had to come away for a while.

His dislike for quiet was hardly the only thing that had changed. His father was dead, slain by a boar. In truth, his death was no great surprise; fat and drunk as the man was, his heart likely would have burst soon enough. Admittedly it didn't take a genius to work out that something would go wrong when the king had roared that he would kill this one single-handedly, given the amount of wine his father had drunk. Loreon remembered the squeal of the boar, the awful ripping of flesh, the blood, the smell, the king's entrails hanging out as he gave a great roar and slew the beast anyway. 

He knew in that moment that his father was a dead man, no one survived a wound like that. It was miracle enough that he held onto life for the several days it took to return to King's Landing, along with another day after that.

Loreon had visited the king's deathbed, and said his last farewells, but had been gone from the castle before his father drew his last. Lord Stark would be a good Regent, but Joffrey would be king nonetheless. His half-brother despised him, his aunt even more so, and with King Robert not there to stop them, one of the pair would see him dead within a moon's turn. 

So he had packed and prepared to leave the city with all the gold he could carry from his tourney winnings. He slept poorly in a seedy inn by the docks, a dagger under his pillow, then woke early that morning to buy passage to Dragonstone. Stannis had no particularly affection for his brother's bastard son, but Storm's End was too far for now, even though he would have received a warmer welcome with his Uncle Renly. The Westerlands would have been even better, but that meant getting dangerously close to the turbulent Riverlands, and besides, he didn't particularly like the idea of fleeing back to his mother and her husband.