From afar King's Landing looked beautiful at night. The full moon lit up the winding streets and reflected in the dark waters of the harbor. Above it, the castle loomed. Its intricate walls and towers created shadows that stretched out over the entire city. Reminding the citizen that the castle was always there, watching over them. Controlling them.

Up close King's Landing wasn't as beautiful. The streets were eerily quiet even for this hour. Mice and cats were no longer roaming the streets. Such creatures had already been eaten by the starving citizens. Some noise was heard though, from the waste piles as desperate people rummaged for something to eat. Evidence of what happened when no food could be found was seen right nearby as the corpses of the ones who didn't make it lined the streets.

In the castle that watched over a dying city, a man was still awake. Plagued by the responsibilities thrust upon him and how powerless he was despite those responsibilities. Once he had been a child on those streets where people now laid dying. He wanted to save them, but he couldn't.

A knock on the door of his study made him look up.

"Lord Seaworth," a maid said on the other side of the door. "Your son is here."

Davos looked up in surprise from the desk where he was sitting entrenched in work. He was trying to figure out how to use their meager fleet to transport food up to the North. That was the king's current order, to help his sister feed her citizens. Despite his own citizens starving and his sister being the one who chose to be the queen of her own kingdom. And the king's orders needed to be obeyed.

To be culpable or to be a traitor. That was his choice. It wasn't an easy choice. After all, Davos had a wife and three children to feed. One of whom seemed to be on his doorstep at this very moment.

"Devan?" he said. "What is he doing here at this hour?"

It was shortly after midnight and Davos himself should be in bed already. So Devan should also be in bed. Sure, he wasn't a kid anymore but he still shouldn't be walking around the capital in the guise of darkness. The capital was not a safe place at night. Or during the day.

"He wouldn't say, my lord. He's waiting for you in the sitting room."

Reluctantly Davos put away his work for the night. There was a lot left to figure out but it would have to wait until tomorrow. And he would rather see his son anyway.

Davos' quarters in the castle were spacious. His whole family could have fit there but he figured they were safer at Storm's End. A lot of things were in motion and the capital could be a dangerous place to be.

As he entered the sitting room his son was standing there. So tall. So handsome. So adult. Since Davos had been away for so many years he had missed the progress of Devan growing up, suddenly he was just a man instead of a boy.

His hair was standing on end as always. Someone should give that boy a hairbrush. And his shirt was wrinkly. Perhaps the boy wasn't quite grown up yet. He seemed to still need his mother to make sure he looked proper.

"My son," he said and embraced Devan, despite feeling a slight reluctance from his son.

"Father," Devan replied after loosening himself from Davos' grip. "Why are your staff calling you Lord Seaworth?"

"Oh right, you don't know. The king made me a lord a few weeks ago. I sent a letter to your mother at Storm's End to tell you all."

"I was in the Neck with Lord Baratheon."

"So I've heard... The king is not too pleased."

Devan nodded slightly and looked around the room. When his eyes fell on a couch he looked pleased and immediately walked over and threw himself down on it, spreading his tall body across it. Davos rolled his eyes slightly at his son's lack of manners but sat down in an armchair next to his chair. Hopefully, his son didn't act like this when around other company than his parents.

"So if you're a lord... and I'm your heir," Devan said. "That means I'll be a lord one day too?"

Davos nodded. One day, when he was dead, Devan would be a lord.

"Then I can marry Brynda?" Devan asked, sounding hopeful and enthusiastic.

"I don't see what would stop you," Davos replied. "Lady Brienne seems to approve of the marriage as well."

A smile graced Devan's face, lighting up the whole room. And he got up and embraced his father, with no hesitation or reluctance this time.

"Thank you, father," he said.

"You're welcome, son," Davos replied. "Although I didn't really do anything."

Devan released his grip on Davos and stepped back. He sat down on the couch again, but not lounging on it like before. Suddenly he looked serious. Devan rarely looked serious.

"That's not why I'm here though," he said. "I need to talk to you, and to Tyrion Lannister if that's possible. I need to talk to you about the king."

Davos put his hand on Devan's shoulder. "It's about time someone talks about him," he said. "But let's go to my study, away from prying eyes."

Devan looked around as if he wondered if someone was watching. There wasn't anyone there but you could never be sure who had their ear to the door. Then he nodded and got up from the couch.

Still, with his hand on Devan's shoulder, Davos led his son up the stairs.

"Lord Baratheon sent you?" Davos asked as they were walking.

"Lady Baratheon sent me," Devan replied.

Davos had known a Lady Baratheon before. She had not been good. She had burnt her own daughter.

But this one was certainly better. He trusted Gendry's judgment when it came to picking his wife. Or perhaps she had picked him.

"That boy certainly was fast to get married once he became a lord," Davos said and chuckled slightly. "I hope she'll make Gendry happy. He deserves it."

"Gendry definitely seems happy, annoyingly so," Devan replied with a cheeky smile. "I basically have to pry them away from each other."

"If he's anything like his father I guess there will be new Baratheons soon then..."

Once in Davos' study, they sat down on each side of the desk in the far end of the room, away from the door. Davos had made sure the door was closed and locked. It should be safer to talk here as the walls were thick and the only adjacent room was Davos' bedroom, where no one should be.

Then they talked about the king. Who he was and who he wasn't.

Davos believed every word his son said. Because that was the kind of man he was. He believed Devan, he believed Gendry, and he believed Meera. And he had seen proof of the king's dubious intentions himself already.

Something needed to be done. And the Seaworths would have to put the events in motion.

***

A few weeks later Devan was still in the capital. Stuck waiting for Tyrion Lannister to arrive back. The hand of the king was supposedly in the Westerlands surveying the unstable situation in the wake of Yara Greyjoy taking Casterly Rock. The people in the lands didn't respect her and infighting between different houses had broken out after the power switch. Tyrion had gone there in the hopes that a Lannister could perhaps sort out the situation. And since no one knew where Tyrek Lannister had gone Tyrion was the only Lannister available.

At least that's what Tyrion had told the king. But the story Tyrion had told Davos was something else. And Davos had told his son the real story. Tyrion had gone to the Eyrie instead, hoping to find his cousin there. To advise Tyrek regarding how to retake their castle. And to tell him how to fight the king.

In his absence, Tyrion had asked Davos to keep an eye on the king. To see if he could tell where he was. Because Tyrion had a theory. He believed that the king wouldn't be able to see where he was since he went to the Eyrie because of what Meera had told him. And the king couldn't see Meera. He couldn't see what she did. So he shouldn't be able to see what the events that she affected either.

Devan didn't mind being in the capital. It was much drier than the Neck. And the castle had food aplenty. Although he felt a bit bad about eating so much when he saw people starving on the streets of the capital. Couldn't the king give some of the food in the castle to the commoners?

Of course, he still missed Brynda. But he would see her soon again, And he knew now that he would be able to marry her now. Devan was ecstatic about that.

His lodgings in the capital were comfortable. He stayed in the guest room in Davos' quarters. The bed was giant and the pillows were fluffy.

This morning Devan was still laying in bed despite it being almost noon. Devan liked to sleep and he had no obligations to tend to currently. His father grumbled a bit about his morning habits but let his son sleep in if he wanted to. Davos even made sure that the maids served Devan breakfast at whatever hour he decided to get up. Even if it was a more proper hour for lunch.

As Devan laid there pondering if he should get up or not he heard a knock on the door.

"Son," Davos said. "Tyrion has arrived back. If you get up quickly you should be able to talk to him before he talks to the king."

This was enough for Devan to leave his cozy bed. The sooner he could talk to Tyrion the sooner he could leave the capital. The sooner he could marry Brynda.

He jumped into his clothes, ran his fingers through his hair a few times, and then went down the stairs. On his way towards the sitting room, he grabbed a few pieces of bread in the kitchen. Even if he didn't have time to eat a proper breakfast he still needed to eat something.

Davos raised an eyebrow as Devan walked in. "Couldn't you at least have brushed your hair, son?" he asked.

"I did..."

"Your hand is not a hairbrush. That doesn't count. And tuck your shirt in, boy. You'll be a lord a day, you need to look like one."

Devan did as his father told him. Shirt tucked into pants. And he pulled his fingers through his hair a few more times to try to flatten it down a bit.

"Should I come with you, son?" Davos asked.

"I'll be good on my own," Devan said. "If... the king finds out it's better you're left out of this. For mother's and my brothers' sake."

Suddenly Devan felt a bit nervous. What he was about to tell Tyrion was risky. It could have consequences for him and the whole kingdom. His father had told him he could trust Tyrion and hopefully, that was true.

***

Devan was shown into Tyrion's study by one of the king's guard members. A young man with anxious eyes, a sweet smile, and a friendly demeanor. Ser Payne, they called him.

Tyrion stood on the balcony as Devan entered, looking out over the city.

"Lord Lannister," Ser Payne said. "Devan Seaworth is here to see you."

Tyrion turned around a surprised look on his face. But the surprise soon turned into something else. Understanding of the situation. Like he quickly put together the facts in his head about who must have sent Devan. He was a clever man, after all, Devan had been told. Perhaps the most clever one in the whole kingdom.

Tyrion waited as Ser Payne closed the door before he spoke.

"Meera sent you," he said, matter a fact. "Lady Baratheon I mean. You should have seen the look on the king's face when he got that wedding announcement..."

Devan nodded and went over towards the balcony. He sat down on the railing to be on an equal level with Tyrion. It felt weird to speak to a man he towered so high above.

"Meera said she spoke to you before," Devan said. "That we can trust you."

"You can trust me," Tyrion replied. "I believe what she believes. Although I'm not sure I can speak the words out loud here."

It did seem risky to say it so close to the king. The king they didn't believe in. The king who wasn't Bran Stark. The king who wasn't good.

Even though he probably couldn't hear them. If what they believed regarding Meera's role was true.

"My father told me you tried to find your cousin," Devan said. "Did you?"

Tyrion nodded. "Tyrek was... where I thought he would be. I offered him my help. And I told him what I know about the king."

"Did he believe you?"

"I think so. He and Lord Arryn both seem to be on our side. They were both victims of his games. They lost more than any of us."

Devan did feel for Tyrek Lannister. They had never spoken but he had seen him every day on those walls when they held Storm's End under siege. Just a boy about his own age. In another situation maybe they could have been friends.

"Is Tyrek alright?" he asked.

"Tyrek's... as alright as he can be," Tyrion replied. "There's no cure for a lost leg. But he's a Lannister. He's determined and he's smart. And he doesn't need my help it appears."

"He's planning to take the castle back?"

"He is. And he will. I believe in him."

Devan nodded slowly. Hopefully, Tyrion was right. Because they needed a Lannister in Casterly Rock for this plan to work.

"And what about Lord Arryn?" he asked. "Do you think we can trust him?"

"Robin is... fickle," Tyrion said. "I still don't know why that boy did what he did. But I believe Tyrek knows, and Tyrek trusts him. So I guess I do too. And I think they're a package deal at this point, they seem very... close."

"It makes sense that they're friends after what happened to them."

Tyrion smiled coyly like he wasn't quite sure how to put the information he was about to divulge.

"I think Robin and Tyrek are more than friends..." he said. "I've seen men look at each other as they do before. It's not how married men should look at each other."

Devan had seen this look too. He had seen how his brother Stannis looked at the handsome guard stationed in the library. Of course, he had never told his brother this, it would embarrass him terribly. And Devan didn't really care who Stannis looked at anyway.

"They're... lovers you mean," he said, not feeling the need to beat around the bush about it.

"I believe so," Tyrion said, smiling at Devan's candor. "Not that it matters. They can do what they want. As long as my cousin likes women well enough to have children with his wife I don't care who else he sleeps with. But it might matter in convincing them to fight on our side."

"So we will fight?"

"I think we will have to. Maybe not now, but soon. When we've made the necessary preparations. When the king doesn't expect it."

Devan pulled his hand through his hair, suddenly feeling a bit nervous about what was ahead. To suddenly find himself in the middle of an uprising against the king. But he was also looking forward to it. His father had fought, and now it was his turn. But the question was for who.

"There needs to be someone to take the throne once the fight is over," he said.

Tyrion looked at the boy in front of him for a moment. Like he hadn't realized that Devan didn't know the answer to that question. And the answer was obvious.

"I think you know who that would be, Devan," he said. "You're your father's son. You're not dumb. There's one man in this kingdom with an actual claim to the throne."

Devan looked out over the city as he pondered. He knew what Tyrion was thinking and he had thought it himself too, but he'd never said it out loud. But now he did.

"...Gendry," he said.

Tyrion nodded and positioned himself next to Devan. They both looked out over a scarred city, where houses were fallen and people were starving. Where nothing ever got better, it only got worse.

"Lord Gendry Baratheon," Tyrion said. "The son of the former king. A man of this city. And he happens to be married to the woman who can bring down the current holder of that throne. Funny how that worked out."

"Gendry barely knows how to be a lord," Devan said. "My brother just taught him how to read."

"That may be true, but Gendry's still our only hope. If he could learn how to read I'm sure he can learn other things as well. And he's a good man. Perhaps it's time for a good man to be a king."

"He is a good man. I don't know a lot of things, my mother and father tell me that constantly, but I do know that."

Tyrion appeared lost in his own thoughts for a moment. Thoughts of what he had done. Thoughts of what he still needed to do. Thought of the game that never stopped.

"After everything I've done. After everything that's happened," he said, more to himself than to Devan. "I would've never thought I would stand here and propose that we once again put a Baratheon on the throne. That I would suggest another rebellion. That I would suggest we'll do it all over again. But this is where our, well my, mistakes have brought us. And it's what we have to do."

Devan just nodded. His father had smuggled goods into Storm's End during the last rebellion to support Stannis Baratheon's hold of the castle. It seemed like he would get to stand on the side of a Baratheon during a rebellion too.

There were worse men to fight for. But perhaps few better.

"Something needs to be done," he said. "And if putting Gendry on the throne is what is needed, then let's do it. I don't think he has even thought it himself though."

"You'll have to present the idea for him," Tyrion said. "He needs to be in on the plan before we can put it in motion."

And so a plan was born. A plan to bring down the king. And to put a bastard blacksmith on the throne. Because he could be the only one able to heal the injured city below them.

Devan left Tyrion's study a while later, after planning out the details of what they needed to do next. They needed to ensure the support of the Redwyne's somehow because their powerful fleet would be crucial in any war.

They also needed to ensure the support of Edmure Tully. But he's really unimportant in this story so don't dwell on him too much. The author will probably forget about him.

Ser Payne stood outside the door as Devan stepped out.

"Do you need me to follow you back to Davos' quarters?" he asked. "The castle can be tricky to find your way around."

Devan shook his head and pulled his hand through his hair. "I'll be fine," he said. "I'll find my way back by myself."

"Just don't blame me if you get lost," Ser Payne said with a smile.

Devan returned the smile. Then he turned around and started walking down the corridor. He wouldn't get lost, because he knew the right path to walk now. The path towards a rebellion.

And there would be a rebellion. A fight to take down the king. An attempt to put someone else on the throne.

But neither Devan nor Tyrion would be part of starting it.

They would have to fall for the winds of rebellion to start blowing. For the storm to begin.