"Go on, do your duty," Stannis rasps to the giant woman standing over him after sentencing him to death. Apparently, she is to execute him in the name of King Renly. How ironic.

In the short moments before his death, Stannis wonders how it had come to this. Renly and Robert must be laughing at him now somewhere. Gods, what a fine trio of kings they had made. The oaf-king, the king that was murdered by his own brother, and then him: the king who burned his own daughter alive. He suddenly despises the crowns they each had decided to wear. What use was the illusion of power that being a king granted you if you couldn't protect your own family?

An image flashes before his mind of Shireen, good and kind Shireen. He remembers how she cried out for him as the flames began to lick her feet. All because that Red Witch told him that in order to truly become Azor Ahai he had to sacrifice the person dearest to him. He remembers condemning both his brothers to their death. First Robert by abandoning him in King's Landing, and then Renly by consorting with that witch Melisandre. There is a poetic sort of justice in suddenly being confronted with his mistakes at death's door.

He deserves to spend eternity in the Seven Hells or some other terrible punishment that awaits him for what he's done. He's done so much wrong all for the sake of duty. He never wanted the crown, but he had to wear it because it was right. He used to think he was a just man, but what kind of a just man becomes a kin-slayer? He feels a dull ache in his heart, trying to communicate the remorse and guilt he feels.

It's far too late and far too little now though. He hears the tell-tale whistle of a blade through the air. A brief moment of intense pain at the nape of his neck. And then nothing at all.

He's dead. Or, he's fairly certain of it at least. He sees darkness and he can't move or feel anything at all.

Suddenly, a low murmur begins to start. The murmurs grow in volume and suddenly he hears several voices echo around him booming in unison. "Stannis Baratheon!"

Stannis is momentarily surprised at the multitude of voices. Any belief in the Old Gods and the New that had sunk with his parents in Shipbreaker's Bay has been suddenly restored.

"Who are you?" His voice seems to bounce off somewhere and echo into the far distance of the abyss.

"We are the few, we are the told, we are the true, and we are the old" The voice echoes back to him and the whispers begin chanting "the true".

Stannis is fairly sure now that he is talking to the "Old Gods". An image of the Godswood in Dragonstone flashes through his mind and he remembered stumbling upon the Godswood in Storm's End.

"Much wrong has been done. Much suffering and pain that could have been avoided had you not been led astray by the false Red God," the voices continued on.

They were talking about R'hllor now. He was false? But he saw the flames, he saw the visions.

"Rest assured, anything that you saw in those flames were bastardizations of our own powers and hallucinations. R'hllor likes to claim that he will ordain a warrior known as Azor Ahai to defeat the Great Other," here the voice scoffs.

"We were the ones who fought the Great Other over eight thousand years ago. We were there with the First Men and the Children of the Forest. Ever since then, this false pretender of a God rose up and began swaying people to his side. He's always been envious of our power and he began killing off our believers as a twisted sort of vengeance. Our believers dwindled until we were only left with the North who kept true to the old ways. You died in the North, trying to help the Starks, the last Paramount House who Remember. For this good, we have brought you here."

Stannis internally feels confused at this. Were they there to reward or punish him?

The Old Gods continue, "A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad the good. For this reason, we have decided to grant you a gift."

The murmuring and whispering echo all around him and rises in volume until it reaches a fevered pitch.

Suddenly, he's standing in a Godswood. Thick snow covers the ground in a layer of white and snowflakes gently flit by his face as they find their way to the hard ground below. He looks around him and realizes he is surrounded in a circle by weirwood trees. The air is quiet save for the wind whistling through the leaves of the trees.

"Stannis…" a soft voice carries over to him. He turns around and freezes. There, standing impossibly just a few steps away from him is his mother: Cassana Baratheon. It's wholly impossible and unbelievable but some part of him doesn't care. His mother is here.

"Mother?" his voice wavers. He absently notices his voice sounds younger too.

"Oh my boy, look at what they've done to you," his mother whispers, heartbroken. Then, she smiles at him warmly with all the love she has for him pouring out her very body. It's powerful and he can feel it.

He's getting overwhelmed. His eyes still can't believe what they're seeing but before he even notices, he's striding quickly towards his mother before wrapping his arms around her torso and instinctively burying his head into her shoulder.

Then he feels himself breaking.

Great sobs wrack through his body as he confesses everything he did, how he abandoned Robert, how he killed Renly with magic, everything, and anything. Through it all his mother slowly combs her gentle hand through his coarse hair while gently hushing him and humming. It reminds him of the times she comforted him after he couldn't sleep during the tumultuous thunderstorms of Storm's End.

He should feel weak. He should feel ashamed at reaching for his mother like a child. But he doesn't care right now. Nearly all of Westeros thinks him heartless because of his gruff words and grim demeanor. The tears soaking his mother's shoulder are evidence enough for him that he still has a heart somewhere inside.

People were always put off by bluntness and lack of courtesies and flowery words, but what did they expect?

When he had just reached adulthood, he held a starving Storm's End when Mace Tyrell threw feasts and tourneys, mocking him outside the wall. He captured the ancient fortress of Dragonstone from the Targaryens with very little casualties. He grew up in the midst of a war. In order to survive in that environment, you had to adopt a certain set of traits to survive. What use were nice-sounding words when men were growing rail-thin and your dinner was a skinny rotten rat? What use were courtesies when arrows are flying overhead and the screams of dying men and steel constantly surrounded you? No, it was through iron and blood that he had secured the Throne for his older brother.

And what was his reward? For holding their ancestral home against impossible odds, he was stripped of being Lord Paramount and given cold and dreary Dragonstone. When he captured Dragonstone, instead of showing gratitude, his brother had scoffed at him for failing to capture the Targaryens who had fled weeks before he even set sail. Again, when he smashed Euron Greyjoy at Fair Isle, his brother took all the credit. He was married off to a cold and harsh woman without any regard of his own opinions. Not only that, but Robert also deflowered a woman in his wedding bed.

Through it all, he only grit his teeth and kept pushing forward doing his duty because that's what men of integrity do. That's what real men do.

Real men don't prance around leaving bastards and sharing countless stories about war as if there was glory to be won like Robert. In his experience, the men who boast of their adventures during war are all liars. The true veterans are the silent ones sitting in the corner often nursing a mug of ale.

He zones in back on the present and realizes it has been so long since his mother's death that he'd forgotten what it was like to actually be loved. To have someone hold him and actually give a *** about how he was doing. Ever since his mother and father drowned in Shipbreaker's Bay, he couldn't even remember what embraces like this were like.

He takes a step back and composes himself again.

"It wasn't right what they did to you," his mother gently says with a hint of steel in her voice.

Suddenly Stannis wonders where his brothers are. "Are Renly and Robert here too?" he tentatively asks.

His mother sighs. "No, but I do know you'll get to see them again." She stares at the ground afterward, seemingly lost in thought.

Suddenly, her head snaps up as if listening to something. His mother turns to face him sadly.

"Stannis, my time is running out. I want you to be the man you could and should have been. I want you to do good, and I want you to be happy. Now go, make me proud." She places her hands on his shoulders and stares into his matching steel blue eyes.

Stannis is lost. "Mother wha—" he tries to ask before his mother starts to become translucent and the last thing he sees is her smiling face.

He's alone now, surrounded by the circle of weirwood trees.

A deep voice booms out from all around him.

"Stannis Baratheon, that was your gift. But now, we have decided a suitable way for you to atone for your sins."

Stannis awaits his fate with bated breath.

"To atone for your sins we have decided that you shall return back to a time that was thought lost and restore what was once full. Swear an oath to us and your sins shall be forgiven."

Stannis is confused at the first part but drops to a knee regardless.

"I, Stannis of the House Baratheon, swear my allegiance to the Old Gods from this day until my last day."

"It is done. In sight of the ancient Godswood, we accept your oath of fealty Stannis of the House Baratheon, henceforth your sins are forgiven," the voice rang out.

"With death, comes life and so too shall you create a new life from old death."

Stannis stands up confused before a creeping darkness slowly begins to obscure his vision. He starts wheezing as breathing becomes more difficult and his fingers start to lose all feeling.

He collapses onto the floor in a spasm and practically inhales the air and snow on the ground. As the darkness fills more of his vision, the last thing Stannis sees is the crying face of a weirwood tree.

When he opens his eyes, he is greeted by the familiar stone walls and ceiling of his childhood bedchambers in Storm's End. The fresh scent of the ocean breeze wafts through an open window and he can hear the dull roar of waves as they crash against the rocks. In the far distance, there is a faint echo of thunder of a distant storm. He closes his eyes again and uncharacteristically childishly sticks out his tongue to taste the slightly salty air from the ocean.

In that instant, he's genuinely happy. He's home.

He's back.

AN: Stannis didn't deserve the ending that he received in the show. Also, I am going to try and be realistic in how I craft this story. Although I am not as well versed in the lore as I would like to be (although some creative liberties will be taken) if you see something that seems highly inconsistent with the world of Planetos feel free to PM me. Also, to pre-empt a few objections to Stannis breaking down, I think it's a natural reaction nearly anyone would have after dying, being confronted with their wrongdoings, and then reuniting with their mother who they hadn't seen in decades. Rest assured, we will have plenty of Stannis being a Mannis later on. Thanks for reading!