The Provenance || Jon Snow | Game of Thrones

2.04

 "The whole realm denies it, from Dorne to the Wall," Renly Baratheon, a man known for his dramatics in this same stretch of land, translates for his elder brother, Stannis, who stares coldly upon Renly like he's always done. "Old men deny it with their death rattle and unborn children deny it in their mother's wombs. No one wants you for their king. You never wanted any friends, brother. But a man without friends is a man without power."

Stannis does not cringe in consequence of Renly's words, despite the brother's greatest attempts, for certainly this elder brother does not trust the younger with such things as rumors, his dramatic tongue having been a facet since his youth. Instead, he simply stares at Renly with cold contempt and some feeling of pity, responding, "For the sake of the mother who bore us, I will give you this one night to reconsider. Strike your banners, come to me before dawn, and I will grant you your old seat in the Council. I'll even name you my heir until a son is born to me. Otherwise I shall destroy you."

The younger grins, sweeping his arm out from aback his horse to prompt Stannis's notice of his massive army. Stannis does not care. "Look across those fields, brother. Can you see all those banners?"

"You think a few bolts of cloth will make you king?"

"No," Renly responds, humour gone from his facade and replaced with honest dislike, "The men holding those bolts of cloth will make me king."

"We shall see, Renly. Come the dawn, we shall see," Stannis offers with a solemn and characteristic farewell, steering his horse about and back towards the sea, the others of his retinue following behind.

And yet, the Red Woman, Melisandre, lingers with her stiff blue eyes staring deep into Renly's soul, and he shivers. "Look to your sins, Lord Renly. The night is dark and full of terrors."

The young brother's escort watch as the collection of inherited enemies ride out towards their ships, all mingled in the fear of the Red Women and the unknown powers she possesses. Renly finds himself struggling with this change--to see his brother so inherently against him and leading a wicked witch--eyes lost to their once conviction as he softly questions to the Lady Stark, "Would you believe I loved him once?"

No, she wouldn't.

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Tyrion Lannister revels in his power when the sun sets on the day. But with each morning, those joys and emotions are all enclosed deep within his subconscious as he deals with the mounting struggles of the Seven Kingdoms, and plays his way around the insane king, the protective Queen Regent, and crafty spymasters who owe no allegiance. Indeed, with each day, the job becomes all the less entertaining and far more stressful, but nothing too much for Tyrion to handle. And it's rare times like these, watching Lancel Lannister cower in fear of a man he once spat upon, that Tyrion so loves...like a gift of his youthful dreams.

"Smile, cousin. My sister is a beautiful woman, and it's all for the good of the realm," he offers the coward whom is far too easy to manipulate given his connection to Cersei. Honestly, Tyrion is a bit surprised by the ease of which he is gaining intelligence from the Queen Regent, as if she's lost some of her sense. And yet, he would not doubt it, given her inherent desperation to return Jaime to the capital and her loss of power over Joffrey. But--again--he'd rather not have this new spy lost to Cersei's cracking madness, "Go back and tell her that I beg her forgiveness, that I want no more conflict between us and that, henceforth, I shall do nothing without her consent."