Dear Stannis

[James Arryn]

Dear Stannis,

All I want to do is bake pies. The lord in my village told me I have to become a soldier. All I want to do is bake pies. My friends keep killing people and looking to me to help. All I want to do is bake pies. What should I do?

Sincerely

Hot Pie

Dear Hot Pie,

I know little of pies, and care less. My brothers would have given wiser council. Robert was wont to eat from his neighbor's plate, and Renly japed over sweets. What I will tell you is this: I have received no pies from you, and you have given pies to many another when they were by rights mine own. Thus you have made your choice freely, and we shall each taste of our just desserts.

Until we meet;

Stannis

[a free shadow]

Dear Hot Pie,

I am the true King of the Seven Kingdoms by Right, and all those who deny it are my foes. If your lord has not declared for me, he is no true lord, and you must rebel against him.

Best in show!

[Qhorin Halfhand and Yoren]

Dear Stannis,

I am the oldest brother in a family of three brothers and I think my brother who is younger by one year is too boring, unsocial and uncharismatic in comparison to my youngest brother. I have inherited a lot of money and I am thinking of giving a far larger share to the younger brother than the lame, older one. I am sure the older brother will be mature enough to understand and not hold any resentments, don't you agree? If say, he somehow would learn, that my kids are not really my own kids and someone was assassinated for that secret, he would tell me and he wouldn't let me in danger. What do you think about this?

[Buckwheat]

Dear Stannis,

I'm a 40 year old paedophile who dresses up like a fool in order to get close to this little princess afflicted with greyscale. How do I get her?

Sincerely yours,

Cheeky Man.

Undear Paedophile,

get your dirty hands off my daughter. Now. If anything happens to her, I will have you gelded.

In the Light of R'hllor,

Stannis ... titles

[Queen Cersei I]

Dear Uptight jerk, erm, I mean, Stannis,

My super uptight and utterly uncool bro is getting married. While I'm not really sure if he know's how to finish the job (if ya know what I mean :eek: ) the fact is that the lady I stuck him with has a mustache. Startin' to feel kinda guilty. What should I do, man?

Yours in awesomeness,

King Bob Jon Stone

Dear Stone,

What as strange coincidence, I myself am betrothed to a woman whom I have never seen but whom mine own brother assures me is in every way worthy of me.

As to your brother, there is no question to his duty in this situation. He must wed the maid, mustache or no. It is his duty.

I also suggest that you impress upon him the importance of putting familial duty before personal desire. A man's duty to his older brother is sacred, and performing it is just. After the wedding festivities, I suggest you find a way to fully impress upon your brother who is the elder, and who is the younger. Remember, your word is law, and his preferences insignificant.

[Queen Cersei I]

Dear Stannis,

I apologize for the delay in writing to you, but I am only just learning my letters. (This particular letter was not written by me but dictated to Maester Pylos a maester.)

I am an intelligent, healthy, and wise man, and as of late those around me seem to be recognizing this. Lately, I have had much social success, followed by a series of recent promotions. In addition, my new job title has allowed me to travel in style to a number of exotic locales.

But as always, there is a problem. Mine is this-- I do believe I have fallen deeply, and irrevocably in love with my boss. Each time I see him my heart sings, and my loins explode with burning desire. (The latter of which has led to more than one very embarassing-- and very public-- accidents!) The chemistry between us is electric, and it seems he is always finding a way to "casually" lay his large, sexy hands on me-- whether it be to lay his hand on my shoulder, name me a lord, or simply to push me aside during the 20 plus times a day when I linger in his wake, trying to gaze upon his balding cranium and drink in his natural, manly scent.

However, despite my love for him and our obvious chemistry together, I fear that my boss only looks upon me as a friend. How should I deal with this? Should I tell him? Continue to send him flowers, "accidentally" bump into him and grind against him a bit on occaision as I've been doing for the past year or so? Will doing so ruin our friendship? Could it impede my career?

At any rate, my feelings are growing increasingly intense, and the interactions between us so fraught with palpable sexual tension, I fear that soon my feelings will be revealed for all to see. What should I do?

--A Seaman

[Winter's Knight]

<snip>

:bowdown:

Dear Seaman,

If your boss has not declared for me, he is a traitor and it is treason to love a traitor.

Once I have come into my rights, consider both your heads forfeit.

Stannis

P.S.-ask him out for a drink.

[Dacie]

Dear Stannis,

So there's this really hot chick I've been chasing. She asked me to do her this favor, which was pretty questionable, but I'm like a rebel and stuff so I went along with it. Then everything went wrong and...Oh, Stannis! Everyone hates me! I mean it's not like I needlessly maimed an innocent girl (ok, I kinda did). I'm supposed to be this badass swordsmen with this awesome nickname (that I totally ripped off my famous relative) but instead I'm the laughing stock of the entire Seven Kingdoms! What's a guy gotta do to get some respect around here?

Sincerely,

Bright Moon

[Queen Cersei I]

Dear Stannis,

I am something of a lady knight, traveling throughout the seven kingdoms to annihilate the evil of darkness and spread the light of truth of the one true god. I serve the great R’llor, and have no other purpose but to serve Him and do His bidding.

This extends to my sex life. Recently, I have come upon the true Azor Azai reborn, and greatly did I rejoice at the prospect of serving His will. Hoping to serve the Red God’s savior in any way possible, I consented to share my bed with the blessed savior, knowing that there is power in combining opposites. For as all servants of R’lloor know, the red god, in his infinite wisdom, created us opposite—male and female, weak and strong, light and dark, warm and cold. And in these opposites lies power—the power to combine; the power to create shadows.

So I took Azor Azai reborn to my bed, and greatly did he rejoice in our nightly combinations of opposites.

For the sake of the red god, I myself tried to enjoy his bald head, hairy body, out of rhythm thrusting, and ridiculous, teeth grinding orgasms. Each night as he lay atop me churning his teeth and smelling of mothballs, I prayed to the red god to give me fortitude and wisdom and take joy in this ritual. All to no avail.

However, recently I have come across a new figure. Though but a boy of 16, his broad shoulders, square jaw, washboard abs, and impish grin indicate to me that the great R’lloor must truly have marked this young man amongst his chosen. Though the servants of R’lloor do make mistakes, I have as of late seen visions in my flames—visions of myself partaking in the sacred combinations of opposites with this new boy. I cannot be sure, but each and every time I catch sight of his broad shoulders, soulful grey eyes, and cascade of silky curls I feel a burning in my loins that the one true god, in His infinite wisdom, does intend for me to invite the boy to my bedchamber, and unleash the sacred fire that burns within us to one sacred conflagration to the one true god.

(I also suspect that R’lloor, in his infinite wisdom, would be pleased if the boy would perform the sacred and holy act known as “the lord’s kiss” upon mine own fiery loins.)

I pray that you will give me succor and guidance, Stannis. Shall I take this boy to my bed, and fulfill the great will of the Red God? Or does my true destiny lie in the endless darkness and boredom of balding, uncreative, middle aged men?

Yours,

The Lady in Red

P.S.—he also has a handsome steward and several very promising friends for whom I feel the Red God must have a very special destiny. At present, it seems expedient to take each, in turn, to my bed, to partake in the sacred ritual of opposites, does it not?

[deleted01]

Dear Stannis,

So there's this really hot chick I've been chasing. She asked me to do her this favor, which was pretty questionable, but I'm like a rebel and stuff so I went along with it. Then everything went wrong and...Oh, Stannis! Everyone hates me! I mean it's not like I needlessly maimed an innocent girl (ok, I kinda did). I'm supposed to be this badass swordsmen with this awesome nickname (that I totally ripped off my famous relative) but instead I'm the laughing stock of the entire Seven Kingdoms! What's a guy gotta do to get some respect around here?

Sincerely,

Bright Moon

:lmao: :lmao:

BRIGHT MOON?! :rofl:

I have no answer, I just found this hilarious.

[Queen Cersei I]

Dear Stannis,

Due to a rather long and, quite frankly (imo), hilarious little story, I just so happen to be currently stuck on a boat in the middle of nowhere with only the second oldest man in Westeros and an awkward fat kid my own age for company. In addition to the long and monotonous days, there are also the long and lonely nights, and as of late I’ve been hoping for a little male company (if you know what I mean.)

Anyway, I’m looking for a bit of comfort at the moment (if you know what I mean), but unfortunately the only dating experience is limited to my own family members. (Don’t ask.) Due to this factor and the fact that the fat kid is basically a blubbering craven who pisses himself each and every time he sees something scary (seriously, I’m not exaggerating here) I am having some trouble deciding on how to make the first move.

I’ve tried all the tried and true cosmo girl tricks, including “casually” showing him my boobs (he pissed himself), looking at him soulfully (I think he pissed himself here, too), and, of course, pressing my body against his in the hopes of “comfort” (he didn’t piss himself and actually got a hardon this time, but still no action.)

Oh Stannis—what should I do? Get totally naked, lay myself upon my obese Florian’s bedsheets, and let him take things from there? Turn to self satisfaction (if you know what I mean…)? Try my luck with the old guy? Please Stannis—I’m in a real cunnundrum here.

-- A Lonely Wilding

[Ramsay Gimp]

Dear Stannis, Due to a rather long and, quite frankly (imo), hilarious little story, I just so happen to be currently stuck on a boat in the middle of nowhere with only the second oldest man in Westeros and an awkward fat kid my own age for company. In addition to the long and monotonous days, there are also the long and lonely nights, and as of late I’ve been hoping for a little male company (if you know what I mean.) Anyway, I’m looking for a bit of comfort at the moment (if you know what I mean), but unfortunately the only dating experience is limited to my own family members. (Don’t ask.) Due to this factor and the fact that the fat kid is basically a blubbering craven who pisses himself each and every time he sees something scary (seriously, I’m not exaggerating here) I am having some trouble deciding on how to make the first move. I’ve tried all the tried and true cosmo girl tricks, including “casually” showing him my boobs (he pissed himself), looking at him soulfully (I think he pissed himself here, too), and, of course, pressing my body against his in the hopes of “comfort” (he didn’t piss himself and actually got a hardon this time, but still no action.) Oh Stannis—what should I do? Get totally naked, lay myself upon my obese Florian’s bedsheets, and let him take things from there? Turn to self satisfaction (if you know what I mean…)? Try my luck with the old guy? Please Stannis—I’m in a real cunnundrum here. -- A Lonely Wilding

Dear Wildling,

You have a bold tongue for a woman. And no, that is not a compliment. My advice, as always, is to accept Rh'llor as your God and me as your King. Disregard all else.

Sincerely,

King Stannis Baratheon, titles...titles....

[TomBombadil]

This thread is great! :lmao:

[Buckwheat]

Dear Stannis,

I am a pretty young girl, innocent and naive and betrothed to a charming prince. I was hoping for some years of casual courtly life, with dancing, hawking, flirting, singing and so on. Incidentally, my dad, who has a high position on the court, suddenly decided that we all leave the city to go back to our secluded cold castle in the far-away north, where there are no singers, no balls, no beautiful princes. He even mentioned he might marry me off to some uncouth northman some day, who might be brave and gentle and strong - and, no doubt, dull and old and ugly. I really don't want to leave here.

How can I persuade my father that all I want in my life is to be pretty, wear new fashionable gowns and reign beside my dashful young king and give birth to his children?

Hopeless,

your Northern Flower

[Lady Hodor]

Dear Stannis

- I have recently found that my mother is a little bit insane. She wants to control all of Westeros, and needs me to do it.

But all I want is to play with my kittens. Ser Pounce might be sad if other cats were killed in all the horrid fighting.

I want to tell Mother that she's one hell of a crazy bitch, but then she orders in Pate the whipping boy, which makes me all the more upset!

And people keep saying that my Uncle Jaime isnt actually my uncle... I dont quite understand it, but it makes mother very mad.

Being King is ok, I guess, I get to use big stamps on paper! But I'd still rather be King of Kittens, rather than Westeros.

What should I do?

- King Tommen Baratheon

[The Frosted King]

Yur Graec

I sael for Scagoos on a mishon that meaye bringe yu ehit thosund swourds.

I heav not abandined yur cuaes, and will return soccsesful or not at aal.

Give my lov to Devan, sire.

Meanderle is not yur eneme

May the graec of the sefen kep yu and the light of rihiulr warm yu

Davos Seaworth

Hand of the king

[TheFlayedMan]

Dear Stannis,

I am a pretty young girl, innocent and naive and betrothed to a charming prince. I was hoping for some years of casual courtly life, with dancing, hawking, flirting, singing and so on. Incidentally, my dad, who has a high position on the court, suddenly decided that we all leave the city to go back to our secluded cold castle in the far-away north, where there are no singers, no balls, no beautiful princes. He even mentioned he might marry me off to some uncouth northman some day, who might be brave and gentle and strong - and, no doubt, dull and old and ugly. I really don't want to leave here.

How can I persuade my father that all I want in my life is to be pretty, wear new fashionable gowns and reign beside my dashful young king and give birth to his children?

Hopeless,

your Northern Flower

*grinds teeth*

[littleone]

This thread is hilarious ! :lmao:

[( Bloodraven )]

Dear Stannis,

You still haven't invited me to dine with you, I hope you know we have a lot to discuss about your stay here at the Wall. I know you're busy and everything. I'm not mad -- I just think you need to eat too, and who better to join you? (Not Davos!) Yesterday got really intense when you slammed the door to my face. If you didn't wanna talk to me outside your quarters you didn't have to, but you could've at least smiled at me, man. You're tired? I'm tired too!! I waited in the blistering cold for you, for hours and you just said "No" while clenching your jaw.

That's pretty shitty man - you're like my fuckin idol King. I want to be just like you man, I like you even more than my father! I'm not that mad though, I just don't like being snobbed. But anyways I hope you notice that sometimes I grind my teeth too, just to see how much fun it is. It's like adrenaline Your Grace, the sound is such a sudden rush for me! (It feels like you're right here beside me) ...I just really look up to you; I know everything you say is real, and I respect you because you tell it. My friends are jealous because I talk about you 24/7 but THEY DON'T KNOW YOU LIKE I KNOW YOU my King, no one does! They don't know what it was like for people like us growing up.

You gotta come see me, my King, I'll be the biggest fan ally you'll ever lose.

Sincerely yours, Jon

P.S.

We should be together, too.

[Queen Cersei I]

Dear Stannis,

I am a pretty young girl, innocent and naive and betrothed to a charming prince. I was hoping for some years of casual courtly life, with dancing, hawking, flirting, singing and so on. Incidentally, my dad, who has a high position on the court, suddenly decided that we all leave the city to go back to our secluded cold castle in the far-away north, where there are no singers, no balls, no beautiful princes. He even mentioned he might marry me off to some uncouth northman some day, who might be brave and gentle and strong - and, no doubt, dull and old and ugly. I really don't want to leave here.

How can I persuade my father that all I want in my life is to be pretty, wear new fashionable gowns and reign beside my dashful young king and give birth to his children?

Hopeless,

your Northern Flower

Northern flower--

This will be a hard choosing. Your blood or your liege. Your father or your king.

Have you ever seen the marriage bed? The harsh contours, those tormenting backboards, the hideous mustache, the sheets all tangled up and ruffled? It is not a comfortable place, my lady. Mine own brother was so confused in this chamber men took to calling him "King B.J.," and Renly was wont to pass his time with his wife's brother. In that very bed, to hear men tell it. It is not a bed where a man can rest in ease.

Yet it is not a question of wanting. The boy is yours, as his betrothed. That is law. You must do your duty to your betrothed, at the cost of your family alliances. As for the marriage bed, what begins in bliss may end in tears of sexual frustration, with you weeping as you insert yourself into an undesirable woman, praying to R'lloor for strength as you struggle to ignore the plethora of hairs on her manly upper lip. Do not say I didn't warn you.

-Stannis