Cruelty and Chivalry

by Soczab

What if the Smiling Knight had been just a *bit* more skilled and a *bit* more lucky? What changes will Westeros face from the ripples of this small pebble?

Cruelty and Chivalry

"The conventional army loses if it does not win. The guerrilla wins if he does not lose."

—Henry Kissinger

A/N: I was suffering a lot of writer's block working on Fish out of Water (thankfully pushed past it and the next chapter should be up in a day or two) so I started writing this to get me out of my funk. Expect a much faster paced story with this (I hope, if I pull it off). The premise is essentially that the Smiling Knight was just a *bit* more skilled and a *bit* more lucky. And a lot crazier to boot. And the ripples occurring from that fact. I do have the whole thing plotted out, and it should be relatively short (under 100k words, how much under depends on how verbose I get).

For those of you not familiar. Before the Brotherhood without Banners there was a group called the Kingswood Brotherhood. Famous outlaws who did a lot of daring crimes and had the support of the smallfolk in the Kingswood. They existed about 15 years before ASOIAF and a year before Robert's Rebellion. They were eventually stopped by Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan (with a young Jaime Lannister along for the ride). This is a story where things go… a bit differently. We will very quickly catch up with the timeline of the books within a few chapters as an FYI.

Anyway my goals with this fic was sort of to explore something more action paced than my other two stories, and to try and write a believable 'madman' in the Smiling Knight. I also always found the Kingswood Brotherhood rather interesting. I do think this story will be believable, but fair warning, I may stretch that at points. I wanted to do something dramatic, over the top, and 'embrace the tropes' a bit. Again I try to do something a bit different with each of my stories. My other two are much more political, cerebral, and ultra-realistic. That said, I have a few chapters of this done, so I'll post pretty fast every few days till what is pre-done is up.

Chapter 1:

Jaime Lannister gritted his teeth as his sword was slowly forced back. Jaime was strong, but this foe was stronger. Desperately he sidestepped, avoiding a second blow that would have taken his head clear off.

"Har!" The bandit known as Big Belly Ben grimaced, one hand slapping against a broad chest while the other hefted his greatsword. "Stop dodging around…"

Jame shifted his stance, sparing a quick moment to glance behind him. Lord Sumner was still prone, dazed from the bandits blow to the helm. Jaime just had to hope the lord he had squired for these last four years was still alive.

The bandit saw where Jaime's eyes went and grinned. "First I'll kill you, then I'll bash the old man's head in. You'd run if you were smart, lad."

Jaime narrowed his eyes, trying to imagine what Ser Barristan or Ser Arthur might say in such a moment. "A squire does not abandon his knight…"

His foe grinned at that, rolling forwards, sword swinging.

Jaime sidestepped the first blow, dodged the second, and deflected the third. Even just a glancing blow from the Bandit was enough to jar his arm. Jaime knew that even at fifteen he was stronger than most full-grown men, but he couldn't compete with this giant's strength.

But did he have to?

Jaime jumped back nimbly a second time. Big Belly Ben was strong… but he was no fighter. Like as not had never received any formal training. And it showed.

Jaime deflected another blow, angling his blade to try and limit the force of impact. And yes… there it was. An opening.

As the next swing came, Jaime moved. Quick as a snake, he darted forward, sword piercing into the bandit's exposed underarm.

The man gave an echoing roar of pain and anger and swung again. Jaime fancied the blow would have beheaded an Oxen. But it was also awkward as all hell.

Jaime easily ducked under the blow, watching as the giant man was over-balanced. Again he darted in, sword striking at the exposed side and drawing blood a second time.

Ben was shaking his head in bewilderment now, swaying unsteadily on his feet as blood dripped down his side and arms.

Jaime didn't relax though, shifting his grip and trying to circle behind the bandit. Then his fight was interrupted.

"Ben, Ben, Ben… you're letting a boy cut you to pieces?"

The voice was mocking and deadly. Jaime didn't recognize it, but he felt his heart sink as the speaker came into view.

The man was tall and lithe, radiating danger with a deadly smile on his face.

Ben half groaned and half grumbled, swaying again. "Ser… little shite cut me up Ser…"

The man's grin widened into a horrifying rictus. "Leave the boy to me, Ben. Go see to Simon. He was crossing blades with Barristan last I looked."

Jaime gritted his teeth, scowling. "The Smiling Knight."

The man cocked his head and laughed. "You've heard of me? I'm flattered…"

Jaime opened his mouth to respond…

And then desperately parried a blow aimed at his face. The Smiling Knight had moved without warning, almost too fast to follow.

The Bandit swung at him again. And then again a third time. Again and again.

Jaime felt the sweat trickling down his face, and desperately prayed it would not get into his eyes. This foe was of a different sort to Big Belly Ben. Every move was fast and strong. No opening to be seen.

Jaime felt himself giving ground, falling back step by step. Honestly, it was a miracle the Smiling Knight's sword hadn't bitten flesh yet. It was almost as if the man was toying with him.

The Bandit Knight tsked. "You can do better than that, boy! You're skilled, but tiring already? Where's your stamina? Disgraceful!"

Jaime felt a flash of anger at that and tried to surge forward. A flurry of blows had the Smiling Knight actually forced back two paces. But then Jaime felt himself tiring and the man was on the offensive again.

Suddenly, as he backpedaled, he felt his foot catch on something. A root perhaps? Or a rock.

Jaime stumbled. Only for an instant, but it was enough. He saw the Smiling Knight's blade flashing towards his head, almost as if in slow motion.

And then the Bandit's blade was intercepted. A sword pale as milkglass catching and deflecting it.

Jaime was still gasping for breath, limbs shaking as he realized how close he'd come to death. "Ser Arthur…"

"You've done well, Jaime. But now leave this one to me…"

"The Sword of the Morning…" The bandit's voice was almost breathless.

"The Smiling Knight." In contrast Arthur's voice was grim.

"I've wanted this…" The Smiling Knight's grin widened still further, almost a parody of a smile. "Ohh, you have no idea how much I've wanted this. Your reputation precedes you, Dayne. How I hoped and prayed to cross blades with you."

Arthur turned, interposing himself between Jaime and the enemy. "Oft times the Gods punish us by granting our wishes, bandit."

The Smiling Knight laughed at that. A long and drawn out laugh, hideous and almost a touch hysterical.

Ser Arthur watched. Patient and unmoving as stone.

Then the bandit knight darted forward. Again, Jaime was jarred by the suddenness of the attack. The jarring switch from laughter to violence.

The Sword of The Morning was not surprised. Dawn parried the blow almost contemptuously.

Then the two were off. The Smiling Knight moved with speed, circling around Dayne and constantly darting forwards from a different angle, sword moving almost too fast for Jaime to follow.

And yet, each blow was parried. Sparks flying as Dawn crossed with the lesser blade.

Then it was Ser Arthur's turn to advance. Each step was deliberate, no opening given.

The Smiling Knight met each blow, and Jaime could see the two pitting their strength against each other, straining for mastery.

Both men were shockingly strong, Jaime could tell that much. But yet Ser Arthur was continuing to advance, each strike of Dawn forcing the bandit back.

The Smiling Knight seemed to realize that, because he changed tactics. Instead of meeting Arthur and Dawn head on, he darted to the side. Constantly trying to get behind Arthur, blade moving like lightning.

Now it was Ser Arthur's turn to fall back and give ground before his enemies speed. And yet, for all the bandit's speed, no strike had found purchase.

The blades were clashing together so fast and furiously, that Jaime fancied he could see sparks flying. Like something from some poet's songs. Or mayhaps it was simply the reflection from Dawn.

Then there was a horrifyingly loud screech as the blades met yet again.

This time, the Smiling Knight fell back, pausing in his attack to glance at his sword. It was notched and pitted from each time it had crossed with Dawn. And that last strike had cut a notch almost halfway through the bandit's sword.

Jaime felt a surge of triumph in his chest. Dayne had him! The Sword of the Morning had him!

The bandit gave a low chuckle, examining his sword. "It seems my blade is not up to this task…"

Ser Arthur gave a low incline of his head, relaxing his guard ever so slightly. "You may fetch another if you wish."

Jaime moaned at that. "Ser! No!"

Arthur's eyes never left the enemy, but he raised a hand in Jaime's direction, silencing him. "Do not interfere, Jaime."

The bandit sketched a small bow. "The heart of chivalry."

Jaime was grinding his teeth when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He nearly jumped in surprise till he saw who it was.

"Ser Barristan."

The older knight gave Jaime a weary smile. "Ser Arthur has the right of it. There would be no honor in killing an unarmed foe. These bandits may be scum, but it is up to us not to sink to their level as we finish them off."

"Scum am I?" The Smiling Knight had picked up a new blade from a fallen man-at-arms, testing it's sharpness with his fingers. "Bold words from a bold knight. But where was that precious honor when your lords and ladies put their boot on the neck of our smallfolk? Was it honor when you cut down poor Simon? He was not in your league, Knight of The Kingsguard."

Jaime started in surprise, glancing behind Ser Barristan. Indeed, Simon Toyne *was* dead. And most of the surrounding combat seemed to have hit a lull as all eyes focused on Ser Arthur and the Smiling knight.

Jaime fought a small grin off his face. It might not be knightly, but it was satisfying to see what happened when a bandit like Toyne dared cross blades with Barristan The Bold.

Ser Arthur Dayne was less amused. "Simon Toyne was a kidnapper and a criminal. Ser Barristan did his duty, and felled your leader in fair combat."

The Smiling Knight was turning to face the Sword of the Morning once more. "Mayhaps, mayhaps."

Ser Arthur shook his head. "Your leader is dead. You are skilled, but that will not be enough. I give you this one chance to surrender."

The bandit knight threw back his head and laughed. A long echoing laugh that sent strange shivers down Jaime's back.

Ser Arthur was unmoved. "The Kingswood Brotherhood is finished. Toyne is dead, and you will follow him if you persist. What is there for you to gain by this? Surrender with honor."

The Smiling Knight let his laughter die off at that, stance shifting into one of readiness. Ser Arthur mirrored him.

"Gain?" A slow and deadly smile spread across the bandit's face. "I am not in this for mere gain. To cross blades with one such as you? Its an honor. But what I want? Well. It's that white sword of yours I want."

"Then you shall have it, Ser," The Sword of the Morning replied.

Ser Arthur moved forwards, clearly intent on finishing his enemy. Dawn seemed almost to glow in his hands as he dodged the bandits blows, pushing aside the enemies sword with almost contemptuous ease.

Jaime could hardly breath, eyes glued to the fight. This was it. He could sense it. The Sword of the Morning was other-worldly. An unstoppable force.

Then the Smiling Knight twisted. Somehow, without warning, he lithely twisted around Ser Arthur's attack. Then he was in the Knight's guard, close up against him.

Jaime distinctly saw Ser Arthur's eyes widen in shock. Even then, the knight of the Kingsguard was fast. Falling back smoothly, arm moving to reposition his sword.

But it was not fast enough. The Smiling Knights sword flashed at Ser Arthur's neck, and Jaime saw a distinct spray of blood.

For half a moment, Dayne still stood. Jaime dared to hope that his eyes had mis-seen. That he had been confused.

Then Ser Arthur fell to his knees, Dawn slipping from his fingers. A moment later he toppled over to his side.

There was silence in the clearing. Jaime could see the stunned looks on the faces around him, bandit and kingsman alike.

The Smiling Knight dropped his plain sword, bending over and closing his hand around Dawn, slowly lifting the blade into the air to examine it.

"Magnificent." A satisfied smile was on the bandit's face as he turned to the fallen Kingsguard. "I thank you, Dayne. For the fight and for the blade."

"No." A voice to Jaime's right cut the silence.

Ser Barristan's face was grim as death as he stepped forwards. "That blade is not yours."

The Smiling knight cocked his head, grin widening. "No? Did not Dayne tell me to come and take it?"

"You've just slain the greatest knight I've ever known."

The bandit smirked. "Second greatest… or have we not been formally introduced yet?"

Barristan was not amused. "You are no true knight. Just a madman with delusions."

The Smiling Knight's smile vanished for half a second. When it came back, there was no trace of amusement to it. "Watch yourself, old man."

Barristan drew his blade, stepping forwards. "That sword has been in the hands of House Dayne for ten thousand years. It shall not be polluted by the likes of you. You will face the King's Justice, and Dawn shall be returned to Starfall to await the return of the Sword of the Morning."

"Bold words…"

Any further exchanges from the bandit were cut off as Ser Barristan charged.

He was fast, but Jaime couldn't help but bite his tongue in worry. Ser Barristan was clearly still tired from the earlier fight. The knight had confessed to Jaime a few times that he didn't have the stamina of his youth. Normally it didn't matter to a knight as skilled as Ser Barristan… but after a day of fighting? Jaime had sparred with the man on the journey here… and he wasn't moving with his usual speed.

Still. Still though. Even tired and clearly exhausted, Barristan was forcing the Smiling Knight back. Expression grim, blade unyielding.

Then, with a twist, the bandit's sword darted through Ser Barristan's guard, striking against the armor.

It should not have mattered. The blade should have been turned. Barristan was in the white enameled plate armor of the Kingsguard. Even the strongest man could only dent or scratch that. The blade should have turned.

But it didn't. Dawn cut through the knight's armor like it was made of paper. Jaime watched in horror as it went through solid plate armor, the flesh of Ser Barristan, and then right out the back of the knight.

Ser Barristan snarled, blood frothing on his lips, hand tightening on his sword's grip. Somehow, despite everything, bringing the blade up as though to strike at his enemy.

Then the Smiling Knight took a step back, pulling Dawn free as he did.

And Ser Barristan the Bold fell.

The Smiling Knight paused, raising Dawn almost as though in a salute. "A brave man. A bold man."

All around them, there was silence as Jaime and the remaining knights and guardsmen tried to comprehend what they had just seen. It shouldn't have been possible! Bandits against armored knights and guardsmen? Two of the Kingsguard against a mere bandit knight?

Said Bandit Knight was grinning again, pitching his voice to carry. "Fletcher, you still with us?"

"Aye Ser…" a voice echoed from somewhere above them.

The Smiling Knight turned to the remaining royal force, spreading his arm and grinning. "That there was Fletcher Dick. Mayhaps you've heard of him? Him and his boys are up in yonder trees, ready to turn you into pin-cushions. And if you're thinking 'but Ser, I've got armor on, what have I to fear?' Well Fletcher can hit a flea on a horse, as you know from the stories. I'm sure he can find some gaps in that armor.

The bandit's grin widened still further. "And if you're still doubting? Well." He raised Dawn in the air for all to see. "Then you can come and cross swords with me. If you think you'll fair better than the Sword of the Morning or Ser Barristan the Bold himself."

And all around Jaime the remaining knights and guards from Kings Landing dropped their blades and surrendered.