Sponsored by: Diplomacy. The game of political maneuvering, where the true currency is trust. Can you scheme your way to victory?
And by Who's Line is it Anyway, where the rules are made up and the points don't matter.
Chapter 13: Chess, or Checkers? Or maybe Candyland?
"Uncle Eddard, can we have a story?"
Eddard blinked, looking up from his reading of Maester Malleon's The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. He found Myrcella and Tommen peering up at him expectantly. They'd been over for dinner with Kazuma, and apparently had stayed around. Eddard wasn't quite sure how the prince and princess had gotten into his chambers, until he looked and saw Yunyun smiling at him as well.
In truth, Eddard was grateful for an interruption, as Maester Malleon's ponderous tome seemed to be good for little more than putting him to sleep. What Jon Arryn had found compelling about the book, the new Hand was not sure, nor what value Littlefinger put in it. Perhaps the Master of Coin merely wished to lead Eddard on a wild goose chase.
"I don't think this is the sort of book you'd like a story from, your highnesses," Eddard chuckled, putting aside the book.
Myrcella wrinkled her nose. "You're not supposed to call me that. You can call me Cella, because we're friends. Yunyun said so."
Tommen nodded. "And I'm Tommy!"
Giving his eldest daughter a somewhat exasperated look, Eddard set the book aside. "Well, I suppose we do have time for a story. What sort of stories do you like, Cella and Tommy?"
"Scary stories!" the princess giggled eagerly. "Yunyun says you know lots of good scary stories!"
Tommen looked nervous, but swallowed and nodded.
"I suppose I could manage to think of a frightening story," Eddard agreed, and Yunyun eagerly sat down on the floor with her royal friends. Myrcella plopped herself in Eddard's lap, a habit she was rapidly developing, while Tommen sat on Yunyun's lap. The princess looked eager, while her brother looked like he was trying to be brave. Still, Eddard thought it good for children to hear frightening tales, especially true ones.
"Have you heard the tale of the Kinslayer?" Eddard asked.
"Oh, that's a good one. It was Megumin's favorite," Yunyun commented, and the younger children shook their heads.
"Long ago, before the Seven Kingdoms were one, but long after the Andals came across the Narrow Sea, the Doom came upon Valeria."
The children let out a startled gasp, and Tommen stuck his hand in his mouth, before quickly withdrawing it.
"During that time, a summer came that did not end," Eddard continued. "At first, this was a good thing. For who does not love summer? Crops grew, and the people grew fat off the land. At that time, the Stark in Winterfell was King in the North, and he and his people rejoiced at the Long Summer, for the North is a hard, cold land. He was Benjen the Bold, and he was a wise, good king."
"Our story, however, does not start with King Benjen Stark, but to the south, in the Kingdom of the Trident. It was ruled by a House long gone, a house whose name we do not speak; for it is cursed. Indeed, so accursed is the name, that we do not say it, only write it. I shall do so now, but do not say it aloud."
With a flourish, Eddard took out pen and ink, and wrote the name upon a piece of parchment. He showed it to the children, who gasped and nodded appropriately, though Eddard could see Tommen's lips moving as he sounded it out. That should be fine, as they were far south. And besides, the Kinslayer and his house were long dead.
"In that kingdom ruled another wise and good king. His name was Terenas, the second of his name. At first, King Terenas and the other rules of the lands believed the endless summer was nothing but good. But then, the rivers began to dry up, and the crops withered and died, as no new snows fell. It became hotter and hotter, and men began to suffer."
"It was at that time that the king's son, a noble and handsome prince, who was a leader of the Faith Militant, prayed to the goddesses. And, as they always do in the time of men's need, the Seven Goddesses answered. Aqua, the Goddess of Water, took pity on her followers and a
appeared to the Prince."
"What was his name?" Myrcella asked, looking up at Eddard with big, excited eyes.
"It is cursed: We do not speak it," Eddard told her sternly. "I will not even write it down. It is too dangerous. Truth be told, I do not recall it. Only maesters and septons know this name, and few dare write or utter it, for to speak the name is to draw its owner's attention."
The princess nodded solemnly, and Eddard continued. "Aqua told the Prince that the Doom was a curse from the terrible Lord of Light, known as the Laughing God. His followers had asked for an endless summer, to drive away darkness and despair, and he had given it to them. However, as are all gifts of the Lord of Light, this one was cursed."
"It had destroyed the Valarians who had requested it, and now, Summer would not end. Thus, Aqua told the Prince to go to the Lands of Always Winter, far to the north, beyond the wall. There, he would find the Others, called the White Walkers."
Even Yunyun sucked in her breath at that.
"The Others are real?" Tommen whispered, trembling slightly.
Gravely, Eddard nodded. "All too real. Aqua, in her haste to save her people, sent the Prince on his mission: to find a bit of winter, and bring it back to the lands. Not too much, or it would cause another Long Night. But enough that Summer would end, and the snows would bring rest and refreshment to the lands."
"The Prince departed, and had many adventures. Along the way, he met Benjen the Bold, and the King of the North joined the Prince in his quest. Together with several brave companions, they passed the Wall, into the lands of the Wildlings. Against all odds, Benjen the Bold and the Prince arrived in the Lands of Always Winter. There, they found where the gods had imprisoned the Night's King, within an icy, frozen throne. There was nothing left of him, save his bones, and his cursed armor, which sat in a never melting block of ice."
"What was said there is not known: only The Prince returned, bearing a hungering blade of ice, forged by the Others. It is said, however, that the Night's King required a sacrifice; that of the Prince's friend, Benjen the Bold."
Tears filled Yunyun's eyes as they always did at this part in the story, and the other children sniffled as well.
"But...but why'd he kill his friend?" Myrcella whimpered, pressing herself tightly to Eddard.
"Perhaps he thought it was necessary for his honor. Mayhaps, he believed it was his duty. Or perhaps there was some evil in the Prince's heart, though all said until that day he was a good man, noble and true. I do not know. What I do know is this: the prince brought that bit of winter back to the lands of men."
"What was the sword called?" Tommen asked.
"We don't speak its name," Yunyun hushed. "It's an evil, cursed sword, a runeblade of the Others."
Tommen made an "O" with his mouth and nodded seriously.
"The Prince went south, then crossed the Narrow Sea to where the Doom lay upon Valeria. There, he battled the servants of Kefka, another name for the Lord of Light, and laid them low. When he destroyed the last of the Lord of Light's priests, summer broke. The next day, snow began to fall again, and men rejoiced at the coming of winter for the first time."
"The Prince returned in triumph to his father's kingdoms, where Terenas welcomed his son. There was a grand procession, and though it was winter, men and women lined the streets, hailing their Prince, who had saved them from the endless summer."
"I shall tell you the name of the city and keep, for it still stands now, abandoned. No man walks its streets, and only the dead dwell there: Harrenhal."
"No," Tommen whimpered, and Myrcella let out a soft moan of fear.
"Should I stop?" Eddard asked, as he had a hundred times before.
"No!" the children replied, as they always did.
"Then, Harrenhal was a great castle; the greatest in the Seven Kingdoms. It was a place of beauty, with gardens watered by the rivers, and tall towers of white marble that shone in the daylight. As the snow fell, the Prince entered the castle, where his father awaited. King Terenas arose from his seat to embrace his son. But he was met with steel."
"The Prince drove his runeblade through his father's heart, slaying him. The people screamed in panic, and many brave knights attempted to slay the Prince. All of them were laid low. Many tried to feel the city. Few did. Ice had frozen the gates shut, and snow blocked the roads. Death stalked the streets that night, some even say that the Others came south for one night, slaying the living with their icy touch."
"The next day, not a living soul remained in Harrenhal. But an army marched forth: an Army of the Damned, led by the Kinslayer. They headed north, marching over frozen rivers, slaying all who stood before them. Some survived in holdfasts and keeps, but many perished, only to rise again at the command of the Kinslayer."
"The army of the damned headed north, and Torrhen, Son of Benjen the Bold, feared his kingdom was lost, and perhaps, all of Westeros, for the Kinslayer marched upon the Wall, which he would tear down from behind, and allow the Others to sweep down across all of Westeros."
"But, but they stopped him, right?" Tommen asked, sounding terrified.
Eddard smiled. "That was when Torrhen called for aid. No man in the seven kingdoms responded to him, for the Kinslayers dark hordes of undeath were a scourge upon the entire land"
"But the Goddesses, old and new, heard Torrhen. And they sent help: three dragons, and their riders. The last of the Valaryians."
"Aegon!" Tommen gasped.
Myrcalla nodded eagerly. "And his sisters! Visenya, and Rhaenys!"
"Yes. When they arrived, Torrhen bent the knee, swearing fealty to Aegon as his liege lord. And thus, Aegon and his dragons swept down upon the Kinslayer and his army of the damned as they besieged Castle Black and the Night's Watch. The battle was fierce, but with the aid of the Starks and the Lords of the North, Aegon defeated the Kinslayer. He was slain, and his body and broken blade taken beyond the wall, where it was given over to the Witch of the North."
"And then all the Seven Kingdoms bent the knee to Aegon, 'cause he saved the world!" Tommen blurted.
Eddard laughed. "Yes, indeed. But, they say in Winterfell, on a cold night, you can still hear the whisper of the Kinslayer: that one day, all must serve the new Night's King, and Lord of Winter."
The children squealed in mock fright, and Eddard laughed and stood. "Come. It's time to take you to bed. It is late, and I am certain your lady mother is wondering where you are."
Eddard escorted the tried children to their chambers, and ended up carrying a snoring Tommen the last little distance as Yunyun led a nearly asleep Myrcella the last little way.
"There you are," Cersei Lannister said, appearing around a corner with her ladies in waiting. "I had thought you would have returned for your dinner with Lord Stark and his children some time ago."
"He told us a scary story, mommy," Myrcella yawned. "It was good. He told us about the Kinslayer."
Cersei glanced at Eddard, raising an eyebrow.
"A favorite of Megumin's," he supplied, and Cersei shook her head, a rueful smile on her lips.
"That one would be," Cersei said, taking Tommen from Eddard's arms. He stirred, but sighed happily as he nestled himself on his mother's shoulder. "You seem fond of children. I hear that Theon Greyjoy has said he sees you as dearer than his own father."
"I raised Theon from when he was but a lad of ten," Eddard replied. "While I am not his father, nor he my son, I do love him."
"Was he not to be a hostage? Insurance against Balon's good behavior?" Cersei asked. "Oh, here. Rain, take the children. I would speak with Lord Stark."
"Yes, m'lady," Rain Lannister, Cersei's younger cousin and new lady in waiting agreed, taking Tommen and the princess, and going into their chambers.
Cersei watched them go, smiling slightly. Then she turned to Eddard. "Would you put a child you raised to the sword, Lord Stark? I heard you counseled against the killing even of Iris Targaryen."
"That was before she put a thousand dothraki to the sword and acquired three dragons. She is a child no longer," Eddard said grimly.
"And what of Theon Greyjoy? He is a man grown now. No boy."
For a long moment, Eddard thought, not speaking. Finally, he spoke. "Were Theon to rebel against Robert, and with his father make war upon those he once called friends, aye. I would kill him. But, I would do the same even to my own son. I would sooner die myself, but to break all oaths and forsake one's own honor...it would have to be done."
Cersei's face was a blank mask. "You would kill even Robb if your honor demanded it?"
Again, Eddard hesitated, then, he lowered his voice. "No. I would fight Robb, yes. I would try to convince him to lay down his arms and regain his honor. But if it was my life or his on the field of battle… I would perish."
"And the Greyjoy boy?"
"I do not know. It is...a hard question. One I hope I never have to answer," Eddard replied.
"I see." Cersei was quiet for a moment, then put a hand on Eddard's arm. "I too love my children, Lord Stark. And I am growing fond of yours. I hope you love them as much as you do Theon Greyjoy."
With that, she turned and departed, leaving Eddard feeling slightly confused. Did Cersei think him a threat to her babes? He would sooner cut off his own hand than harm Myrcella or Tommen, and Kazuma was to be his son in truth. More and more, Eddard did think of the boy as his son, even if the wedding was years in the future yet.
It was a week before the tourney, and Eddard went with Robb and Lord Baelish to a blacksmith the next day. Despite his misgivings, Eddard had given Robb leave to participate in the tourney. While he did not approve of playing at war, Megumin's enthusiasm for the event seemed to have infected his eldest son, which meant that Robb was to participate in the joust. Naturally, that meant he needed a new set of armor, and Littlefinger had been happy to recommend a suitable shop.
Arriving at the Smithy, Eddard had to admit it had the look of a master artisans show. It was finely decorated on the outside, and large enough to house several forges with at least a dozen journeymen and twice as many apprentice boys laboring at the forges.
"Ah, m'lord Hand! Your son's armor, it is ready," Tobho Mott, the master smith said, meeting them at the door. "Come. We must do the last of the fitting. A fine piece, with a wolfshead helm, as you requested."
Robb flushed, not meeting his fathers eyes. That had not been the original order, but Eddard had a sneaking suspicion Robb had told Megumin, who had insisted on some eclectic modifications.
"Master Mott does good work, I've had several pieces made here myself," Baelish said, picking up a fine silver inlaid dagger from a rack and inspecting it.
"I appreciate the recommendation," Eddard said, trying to remain polite. He'd been initially inclined to refuse Littlefinger's aid and advice, but Jamie Lannister had told Eddard he thought Mott the best smith in the city as well, and so Eddard had acceded.
"There is one other aspect of the shop I thought you should know of. Come," Littlefinger said, and led Eddard inside, to where the sweltering heat of the forges was nearly overwhelming.
"Ah, you there, boy. Come here a moment. You are the one who made young Stark's helm, are you not?" Baelish said to one of the journeymen.
For a moment, Eddard was taken back in time, and though he was looking at a young Robert as the smith bowed to him
"It's good work, m'lord. I know I'm just a journeyman, but I'll be a master one day. My work is good, best in the shop save for Master Mott's."
"I am certain it will suffice," Eddard agreed, and Littlefinger let the boy go back to his work.
They withdrew back to the cooler entrance, and Baelish gave Eddard a small knowing smile. "So, what do you think?"
Eddard was quiet, trying to see the trap in Baelish's words, but not finding one. "He is Robert's?"
"His byblow on a tavern wench. Lord Arryn got the boy his apprenticeship when he was six," Baelish informed. "Thought you ought to know. He is the very image of his Grace, is he not?"
"Aye," Eddard agreed. He considered for a moment, then nodded his thanks to Baelish. "Thank you. It is good the boy is cared for. He seems skilled."
"Oh he is. A most talented man with a hammer, like his father. I imagine his hands would find a sword as comfortable as those tongs he bears now," Baelish chuckled. "He even has Robert's foul moods."
Eddard nodded, feeling uncomfortable discussing such a topic, but Baelish continued.
"Indeed, I've found all of Robert's bastards share some aspects of him, though they all have that Baratheon look about them. It is as Lord Arryn said. 'The Seed is strong.'"
"Indeed. Prince Kazuma is much like his father," Eddard agreed, eager to change the topic.
Baelish looked at Eddard incredulously for a moment, then laughed. "Is he? The boy looks more like a Lannister than a Baratheon to me."
"You haven't seen the mischief he gets up to. He's the very picture of Robert at that age," Eddard sighed, thinking back to a time when a young Robert had been the scourge of the Eyrie. Much like Kazuma, he'd been a constant source of headaches for his caretakers, always running off on an adventure. Though Eddard would see to it that the prince did not get a bastard on a girl at the tender age of fifteen as his father had. Eddard did try not to think about what the Prince and Megumin might do in a few years, but at least they were betrothed.
"Perhaps now, but he was quite the scholar and recluse before he went North. Many remarked that he seemed more like Tyrion Lannister than his own father," Baelish mused.
"Is it a wonder? Robert showed little love for the boy, whereas Tyrion gave him nothing but affection. That is changing, now that he is older and taking up the sword. Robert has come several times now to see his son practice in the yard."
Indeed, despite initially being skeptical of the Water Dancer's way, Robert was delighted to see Kazuma best other boys in the yard. Even Robb had lost to Kazuma in a duel, prompting Robert to gloat about which of their sons was the better. Both Robb and Eddard had taken it in good humor, and Kazuma had even apologized for his father's words in private later. He was a good lad, and would make a fine king.
Lost in his own thoughts, Eddard once more missed the increasingly exasperated looks from Baelish. The problem, you see, with playing 4D chess, is that one tends to assume that everyone else is at least playing 2D chess, and thus are competent schemers. Lord Baelish was realizing he had somewhat overestimated Eddard Stark, and was taking increasingly drastic measures. Still, he could account for Eddard Stark, who while not a master manipulator, was at least politically savvy in his own way.
What Baelish was not prepared for was the fact that some people were not playing chess at all, but perhaps checkers, or maybe Go Fish. Or, in some particularly egregious cases, Calvinball, which had no rules to bend and twist, and no moves to think ahead for.
Speaking of lunatics who couldn't plot their way out of a Walmart parking lot (and had failed to do so at several points in past lives) Megumin was currently stalking the depths of the Red Keep along with Chomusuke. Kazuma was practicing his archery for the tourney, and that had gotten boring after about five minutes and Megumin had snuck away. Currently, she was posing before some dragon bones, and doing something so foolish that it had several goddesses in a panic, frantically messaging Cecily to do something before Megumin blew everyone up (again).
"Black of my soul, arise! Hmm. No. What about… Deep back of the void, come forth! Yes, that one is good. Ok. Next part. Crimson of my soul, arise! Eh, too similar. Crimson of ancient blood, I call upon thee! Better, better…"
Despite the fact that she was currently both indoors and underground, Megumin was practicing Explosion chants. Chomuskue was watching her mistress, looking about half a step from a panic attack herself, which was pretty impressive for a direwolf. Even a variably sized one.
Suddenly, Chomusuke's ears cocked to one side, and she leapt forward, tackling her mistress to the ground, then grabbing her by the cape and dragging her back behind some of the dragon bones.
"Ow! Chomusuke, what was that for?!" Megumin demanded, until her wolf put a large paw over her mouth and let out a low, soft growl. Megumin froze, and Chomusuke let her up to crouch behind the dragon bones.
From further within the maze of passages under the Red Keep, a red glow of torchlight appeared, and the tread of soft-soled boots on stone could be heard. Soon, a shadowed figure of a man with a steel cap, with leather armor and a sword and dirk at his hip. Chomusuke breathed out a sigh of relief as the man started to go past without noticing their hiding place.
Megumin, of course, could not allow this.
"HALT, O DISGUISED ONE!" Megumin shouted, and jumped out in front of the stranger, her sword held in a high guard position.
The man let out a coarse oath and took a stumbling step back, hand going to the hilt of his sword.
"Behold! I am Megumin! Foremost Genius of the House of Stark! What are you doing here, villain? Plotting to dark webs to deliver the kingdom into the hands of its enemies?!"
"You brat," the man snarled in a gravely tone. He had his sword half way out of the scabbard before he saw two glowing eyes, hovering a foot above Megumin's head. He raised his torch, and the blood drained from his unshaved face, as he beheld a wolf that should have been too large to make its way to the chamber, her lips bared in snarl. Swallowing, the man managed. "I'm just Rugen, m'lady. A humble gaoler. Goin' about me rounds."
"You think to fool me?! I can see through your cunning disguise! You are a spider, spinning webs of lies to entrap noble heroes!" Megumin hissed, taking a step forward and making Rugen fall back.
"Don't know nuthin' about what m'lady is-"
"I see it now! You seek to resurrect the bones of dragons thought long dead! You would bring fire and destruction down upon this keep and kingdom! Well, I, Megumin, Leader of the Crimson Demon Clan of Adventurers, shall not allow it! I shall fight for my one true love, Prince Kazuma, and prevail against your wicked plans!"
Rugen was sweating now, his hands trembling as he looked back and forth between this tiny madwoman and the giant wolf, unable to decide which was more frightening. His worries were interrupted when a frantic septa tumbled down the stairs and grabbed the girl, hissing something about ill behavior. Clearly, her entrance had been planned all along.
"Watch yourself, you traitorous wretch. I shall uncover your plots, and bare your lies for all to see!" Megumin snarled as she was dragged away by her supposed caretaker. A moment later, after one final low growl, Chomusuke followed after, shrinking down to the size of a hound as she went.
For a moment, Rugen the turn key stood there. Then, swiftly, he hurried away, and as he went, the facade of the dim and gruff jailer vanished just as the man entered into a hidden passageway. In his place was a very frightened Lord Varys.
"She knows," the Master of Whispers muttered to himself as he sagged against the wall. "How does the girl know!? Her father appears ignorant, unaware of the seeds that I have long planted! But then… she must be the one. The one who somehow quelled the feud between Wolf and Lion. How? How!? For decades I nurtured their hates. When Robert accepted my suggestion to make Eddard his Hand I thought the plan had nearly reached fruition! But it was her! Megumin was the one who sussed out my plots, and stopped them! But how?"
Varys hurried back to his chambers through the hidden doors and ways of the Red Keep, his mind racing. So, it was all an act: the girl really WAS the Foremost Genius of the House of Stark, her behavior an act to fool onlookers into believing her naught but a mad girl. But she had ensnared the Prince, and through him had the Lannisters wrapped around her little finger. It all made sense now.
After ensuring he was alone, Varys took out several hidden journals, hastily scratching out plans and revising them. There was a new player on the board now. But why had she revealed herself? What did she stand to gain from this? Varys began to adapt his plots. He would have to move up his timetable. The girl would have to be eliminated before she caused further problems. Yes… yes, he could have her killed, and frame the Lannisters for such an act. It would be a challenge, but Cersei suspected that Eddard was close to learning her secret. She would make a good scapegoat.
And so, the Spider began to spin new webs to entrap his foes in, as he plotted to place a false dragon upon the throne of the seven kingdoms, and at last bring to fruition the plot to destroy the magic of the world forever, freeing the land from goddesses and demons alike. He had simply to account for the devilish schemes of Megumin Stark.
Varys, however, forgot to account for one thing in his schemes:
You can't out plan an idiot.
Cast of Characters
The Prince of Harrenhal as; The Great Other
Tommen and Myrcella as; Exploiting the power of moe
Varys the Spider as; All According to Keikaku (Translator's Note: Keikaku is weeb for plan)
Petyr Baelish as; Master of 4D Chess
Eddard Stark as; Big fan of Checkers
Megumin as; Archwizard of Calvinball
Chomusuke as; The Cloud Cuckoolander's Minder
And the cast of A Song of Ice and Fire as; Overthinking This.