A/N: Apologies for the delay. I had finals in May and this chapter took longer to write than expected.
The pale red walls of King's Landing glistened in the light of the dawning sun.
Rick had heard it said that those walls had never been taken from without, yet thrice the city had fallen from within. The first time was nearly two centuries ago, when wars had been supposedly settled by dragons fighting with flames and claws. The second time was not even two decades ago, when the last dragon-king and his kin were betrayed and cruelly slain, and the Lannister armies put the city to the sword.
And the third time…
"Holy shit!" A voice boomed. "That's the largest mother-fucking load of people I've seen since the end of days!"
Rick scowled as he turned in his saddle. Behind the rank of Alexandrian leaders, two horses pulled at one of Earl Sutton's new wagons. Rick had specifically instructed the Alexandrian blacksmith to install a sturdy cage on top, lest the cart's handcuffed occupant somehow flee while they were moving down the Kingsroad. If even these measures weren't enough, two burly Hilltop guards rode beside the cage, assault rifles in hand. And from the expressions on their faces, it seemed as if they were itching for the occupant to attempt an escape.
"Shut up," Alexandria's leader warned. "Or at least quiet down a little. Unless you think your cell is too comfortable. We could always send you back, you know."
"Fuck no." In his orange jumpsuit and unkempt hair, the cart's occupant was a far cry from the ferocious warlord whom Rick and his allies had brought down only months ago. "Only ghosts keep me company. Your boy too. He visits from time to time. Though he could have told me before he fucking vanished on his little adventure."
"If it weren't for Carl's little adventure, you wouldn't have come along at all," Rick snapped back. Carl had sent another raven two days before Rick's host left Alexandria. The Night's Watch was in danger. Negan would be useful at the Wall, along with Tywin Lannister and many of his westermen. Except the two Lannisters whom Carl executed after a brief trial. Carl hadn't explained why he hanged Kevan and Lancel, but it didn't matter anyway. Killing in battle was one thing. But to kill two prisoners after Carl and his 'Twenty Good Men' had already won… Rick let out a soft sigh. He was proud of his son. But not for this.
"It was Rick's son who suggested you could join the Night's Watch," the Blackfish explained. "The Watch always needs more men. More so these days, since-" he paused. "You don't need to know until you reach the Wall. But a man's crimes are forgiven once he takes the black, and you will have more than enough chances to atone for your sins…"
"Or even better yet, he might die trying to be a hero," Maggie scoffed.
Negan ignored that comment. "I still can't believe Carl took a whole goddamn city. Are the Westerosi a bunch of pussies? Or did he knock all of their soldiers down swinging his huge brass balls?"
Rick was saved from replying by a flurry of trumpets, which was probably for the best. Rick did not want to offend the massive crowd which now gathered about the gate. Hail to the Chief indeed, Rick mused. The road to the Red Keep now lay open to Rick and his Alexandrians, with a small red carpet and all. Except the 'carpet' wasn't entirely red. Whoever made them did a sloppy job, for not all the golden lions on the sewn-together banners were well covered enough with red paint.
A small group gathered behind the red carpet. A few nobles whom the Blackfish would undoubtedly recognise. An auburn haired girl wearing a wolf-brooch, letting out a small wave at Rick and his companions. A brown-haired girl beside her, her grey eyes carefully measuring the arrivals and their leaders. And the 'boy with the huge brass balls' stood next to both.
Carl had grown quite thin since Rick last saw him. His right hand held onto a crown, undoubtedly the one once worn by the kings on the Iron Throne, gold and jeweled and all. A thick plaster cast covered his left forearm.
Rick's heart lurched. None dead, one injured, he remembered the message saying, so why...
"Dad! You're finally here!"
When they reached the welcoming party, Rick dismounted. He ran to Carl, took the crown from the boy's hand and handed it to the nearest Alexandrian. He wrapped his son in a fierce hug. The crowd cheered.
"All hail Rick Grimes, the Leader of Alexandria, the Protector of the Realm!" A bald man nearby shouted at the crowd. The crowd picked up the chant. All hail Rick! All hail Rick!
"That's Varys," the Blackfish pointed out. Then to the two girls, "Princess Sansa. Princess Arya. I am sorry we couldn't have come sooner. We had to sort out some matters with Lord Rickard of Alexandria."
Sansa bowed, followed by Arya. "Lord Rickard. Thank you for helping our House and realm," the elder Stark answered smoothly. "We've heard a lot about you and your people from Carl and his friends."
That drew the Blackfish's attention to Carl. "Well, if it isn't our young hero."
"I… I…" Carl stammered. "I'm not a hero or anything."
The Blackfish rapped Carl on the shoulders. "Deeds matter more than words, boy. And everyone here knows about your deeds. They will be amply rewarded- oh, shit."
A battalion of Northmen marched forwards, their heads held high in salute, their footsteps firm. Rick only heard three words over and over again from those who survived the Twins. The North Remembers. A battle cry, a proclamation of gratitude, a firm promise to allies and foes alike.
When they were ten yards away from Rick and Carl they abandoned all pretense of formation. "Thank you for saving our realm, Lord Rickard," the first soldier asked. "May we borrow your son?" Before Rick could say no, he swooped Carl out of Rick's arms and lifted him above the now growing mob. "Men of the North! Here stands the warrior who avenged the Red Wedding!"
The crowd did not give him much chance to stand, all but carrying him away into the distance as if he were a rock-star. "I'm sorry about this, Grimes." The Blackfish apologised, before snapping orders to the nearest Riverlanders and clambering onto his horse. Rick followed suit. "Perhaps we should enter the city before any more incidents occur."
A minute later Carl crowdsurfed back, his face sweaty and clothes grubby. "Give Lord Grimes his son this instant," the Blackfish shouted. He snatched Carl from the Northmen and placed the boy onto Rick's horse. Ser Karyl Vance dismounted and yielded his horse to the Stark sisters.
Rick gently pulled at his horse's reins, and the procession moved forwards again.
"I thought you were supposed to follow Michonne back to Alexandria," Rick dryly observed. They were passing through the archway of the Gate of the Gods. Instead of boiled water and large rocks, stars-and-stripes banners greeted the Alexandrians from the gate's murder holes.
"You didn't," Carl replied. "You asked me to be a good boy, so I tried. You asked me to listen to the adults, so I listened to Michonne and Maggie. I listened to Wylis and Raynald too, and the Northmen, and the people of King's Landing. You also asked me to send a message to King's Landing on New Year's Day, and Tywin got the message all right. The Lannisters ain't nobles any more. We get their money and their lands. The Northmen and Riverlanders too."
Rick awkwardly stroked his beard with the metal contraption on his left stump. "I didn't tell you to execute anyone. You know we no longer kill people unless we have to, but you killed five anyway-"
"Four. I didn't kill Jaime Lannister. A few people still say I did because everyone seemed to hate him before, but he died saving the city."
"Four then. That's still four too many. You and I are going to talk later, young man." Rick's gaze drifted down to his son's plastered arm. "But apart from that you did well."
"He still killed fewer than Lord Cregan Stark did more than a hundred and fifty years ago," the Blackfish interrupted.
"Who's Cregan Stark?" Carl asked. "Is he one of Arya and Sansa's great-great-great...great grandfathers, or something like that?"
The Blackfish nodded and smiled. "He is, and a famous one too. It's still a long way to the Red Keep, so there's time for a long story. A hundred and fifty years ago…"
While the Blackfish told his story, of kings and queens and princes and dragons and all the things that excited the kids, Rick paid attention to the streets of King's Landing. Sure, Alexandria's population had grown as they took in more and more survivors, but it was nothing compared to this city's hustle and bustle. Beyond the cheering crowds, people swarmed in and out of the shops along the streets. Bells pealed and seagulls swooped over the massive structures that loomed over the city. What was the city like before we arrived? Rick wondered. His gaze fell upon the blackened ruin to the North, as the Blackfish started talking about the Storming of the Dragonpit. The Red Keep up ahead saw more than its fair share of intrigues and betrayals even during the few years when the dragons danced. Maybe the Westerosi were more civilised than Rick had first thought. King's Landing had history, history nearly as old as New York or Boston, and many Westerosi settlements were even older still. But more importantly, King's Landing would also have a future.
Sure, there was a foul stench permeating throughout the mud-streaked streets. And sure, there was no electricity, not even proper plumbing or any of the few comforts Alexandria offered. But with far more people than Rick ever saw after their world ended, the city felt alive in a way that Alexandria did not. Rick felt hope. Hope for his people, hope for a new world that his children will enjoy.
"...In the end, nineteen of the condemned chose to take the black. Only two were executed by Cregan Stark himself. While Lord Stark himself returned north, many of his men stayed in the south, as it was a harsh winter and there wasn't enough food in the North to feed them all. Since we're talking about the Night's Watch, Carl, why did you suggest one of your own Alexandrians join?" the Blackfish asked.
"Negan is the only Alexandrian who will be locked up for the rest of his life, so there's nobody else to send. He knows how to use guns. He knows how to lead and use people. He could save many people south of the Wall by joining the Night's Watch and fighting the Wildlings," Carl explained. "He might live, and earn his life back but not his freedom. Or he might die fighting. Either way he repays for the blood of spilled innocents. But Maggie should have a say. She has a claim to his fate after losing her husband Glenn…"
"Maggie already agreed," Rick pointed out. Reluctantly, he might add, and it was far from an easy bargain. The next 'bullet factory' for making metallic cartridges would go to the Hilltop, along with tooling to make guns, the ones after that to King's Landing. Many of the Saviors were restless too. Ever since news of Carl's victory arrived, at least half of them wanted to move to King's Landing where they would be treated with respect and awe, rather than suspicion from the other communities back home.
Finally they rode under the Red Keep's gates, where two men were already waiting.
"This is Rickard Grimes, the Lord of Alexandria and Carl's father," the Blackfish announced. "And this is Lord Renfred Rykker of Duskendale. I would have introduced you to each other at Maidenpool, but it seemed Lord Rykker had other commitments."
"Any sane lord would have other commitments once they meet Alexandria's cavalry," the man next to Lord Rykker replied. With his silvery hair and grey-green eyes, the man was the strangest Rick had ever seen. "But we are here to talk ships, not Northern fleet is now in Blackwater Bay. A fisherman saw galleys with mermen sails enter the Gullet."
"Admiral Aurane Waters, Master of Ships," Rykker introduced.
"When did this happen?" the Blackfish asked.
"A few days ago. The fisherman only arrived at Duskendale yesterday. We got the raven when your hosts were entering the city. Admiral Waters would know more."
"My friends in Driftmark have ravens of their own," Waters replied."The fleet did not land at Driftmark, nor did it dock at Duskendale. A fleet of such size could only be headed for King's Landing. They should arrive by tomorrow unless they dawdle. Even today, if the winds are kind."
"I would love to talk to Lord Manderly when he arrives. But I wish to speak with my niece Sansa. And then..." The Blackfish winked at Rick, then gestured towards Carl and the Stark sisters, who were chattering amongst themselves. Arya was ever so subtly staring at Carl. Though Rick could not see it, his son was surely returning the favour. "Lord Rykker, may you be so kind as to care for our armies? Admiral Waters, take the two Grimes and Princess Arya to the Small Council chambers. I shall join you when I am done here."
"What's this about?" Carl asked as they walked deeper into the castle.
"Ships. But not Admiral Waters' type of ships," Rick replied. "A different sort of ship entirely."
The Blackfish arrived nearly ten minutes later and plopped down on the nearest chair. Admiral Waters excused himself, ostensibly to prepare the docks for Manderly's arrival. Regardless of whether he knew what Rick meant by 'ships', the admiral did not seem to be a fool.
"The Alexandrians say you two have been… very close," The Blackfish simply stated.
The two youngsters' faces blushed almost simultaneously. Rick and the Blackfish exchanged a knowing glance - that decides it, then. Arya rather than Sansa.
"Well, I… I guess we're good friends now. Arya seems pretty cool," Carl's voice dropped to little more than a whisper.
"I like Carl as well," Arya answered carefully.
Rick took a deep breath. This was going to end very well… or very poorly. "Good. Because we need your relationship to be… something more."
"Lord Grimes and I have considered the nature of our alliance. Though we fought together to defeat the Lannisters, there are differences between our ways of life, and there are still many grievances with the South which the Alexandrians now rule. Therefore, Lord Grimes and I have decided to seal our alliance with a betrothal."
"Betrothal? What do you mean?" Carl asked innocently. Arya whispered in his ear. A moment later, both of their faces somehow reddened even more.
"Both of you know very well that neither of our realms can afford any objections," the Blackfish hurriedly stated before either of them had the chance to speak. "Stannis' forces are still out there. The Reachmen will be praying for our alliance to fall apart. The Ironborn now occupy nearly half of the North itself."
"You won't marry immediately, of course. Not until Carl turns eighteen and becomes an adult," Rick added. "But you two will marry sooner or later."
"Can we say no?" Carl asked.
"Carl..." Rick began awkwardly.
The Blackfish frowned. "I cannot speak for your father, but without this alliance war could easily break out again. Thousands would die. Perhaps even more. Do you want to have that blood on your hands? No? Then you cannot say no. Not after you slew the Mountain, and then took down the Iron Throne-"
"And why do we have to wed each other because of that?" Arya grabbed Carl's hand. and Together, the two sprinted out of the Small Council chambers.
Rick reached to grab Carl as he ran past, but the boy slipped past his grip. He looked up at the Alexandrian guards at the door in annoyance, but they only smiled and shrugged. Rick cursed under his breath. "Any idea where they might be going?" He asked Brynden.
"I know little of marriage, Lord Grimes, but if you want the two of them to marry, I think letting them run off together for a bit isn't going to hurt anything." the Blackfish chuckled. "I'd wager the children will come around on it. They might even be thinking of ways to squeeze what they can out of this betrothal."
"I'm sure this is only the first of many headaches those two are going to give me," Rick said.
"The Sea?!" Judith exclaimed, her wobbly fingers pointing over the Red Keep's crenellated walls.
"Yeah, that's the sea. I told you we will see the sea," Rick replied. Wave after wave crashed upon the cliffs below, spraying white foam all over the sharp rocks. The bay ahead was blue, not the rippling blue of the God's Eye, but deeper and softer, a rolling carpet which stretched and stretched until it melded with the distant horizon.
Beyond that horizon lay Driftmark and Dragonstone, only a few days away by sail. And further still...
Years before the dead arose, Rick had promised to take Carl around the world, to see its sights and hear its sounds. But even as their old world closed upon the Alexandrians, another silently opened, another chance for Rick to fulfil his promise. They would sail under the Titan of Braavos and into the city's hundred canals. They would stand on the Wall which separated Mankind's realms from the wilderness beyond, and watch snow drift over forested hills. They would spy the white walls of White Harbor from the sea, climb the Hightower's many steps, cross the Long Bridge of Volantis. Carl would know everything this new world had to offer.
Our world has gotten even bigger, Rick thought, and this is just the beginning.
Claudia joined Rick along the river walk, her son in tow. "The open sea looks nice, doesn't it?" she asked.
"I haven't seen the sea for years," Rick admitted. "Not since… y'know…"
"I guess the grass is greener on the other side. Or the water is bluer, in this case. Edward and I had to survive near the coasts for years before we found your town. Even the open sea at times," Claudia replied.
"When things here are sorted, Andrea and I are going to take our kids on a holiday." Rick hadn't asked Andrea yet, but he knew his wife wouldn't say no. "You two wanna join?"
"We'll think about it-
"Kittens!" Judith suddenly began squirming in Rick's arms, until Rick relented and finally let her onto the floor. She ran over to three black kittens chasing after a fair haired boy slightly younger than Carl. Nearby, another boy - Rick blinked. It wasn't a boy, but a man that happened to be a boy's height, who was watching the game with mild amusement. The man took a quick glance towards Rick, then began to walk towards him.
"This one's Ser Pounce. That one's Lady Whiskers, and that one's Boots. " The boy gently scooped up one of the kittens and placed it in Judith's outstretched hands.
"Thank you," Judith replied politely. "Who are you?"
"I'm Tommen. My uncle Tyrion is over there. We're going on a walk because the sun is out."
"And I'm Judith, Judith Grimes. But you can call me Judy. Oh!" The kitten scampered off her hand and ran towards its siblings.
The short man struck up a conversation as the children played. "You must be Lord Grimes, Carl and Judith's father," he stated.
"I am. And you are Tyrion Lannister?" Rick asked. The Blackfish had briefed Rick on the Lannister family, those who survived anyway, and he only knew of one Tyrion who also happened to be a dwarf. "I hope my people have been treating you and your nephew well."
"Very much so, and for which we are grateful," Tyrion answered carefully. "Your son let us stay in the Red Keep for as long as we wish. At least it's safer here than down in the streets. For the Kingslanders, it seems being a Lannister is itself a crime these days."
"What do you mean? Surely which family you belong to is not a crime?"
"It is now. Haven't you heard about the riot at the Sept?" Tyrion forced his lips into a grim smile. "The smallfolk even hanged uncle Kevan and cousin Lancel. Lord Carl begged them to let them go, even as the rioters beat him raw with sticks for trying to protect us Lannisters."
Rick frowned. "Carl wrote that he executed them both."
Tyrion smiled mockingly. "Far be it from me to call your son a liar, but he has a funny idea of truth-telling. True, he killed my sister, but only her, and try as I might I find it hard to mourn her when she led all the Seven Kingdoms into a disastrous war. One that we lost in the end, no less. And he has been kind to me and my other relatives. Lady Brienne told me he wrote parts of the White Book entry for my brother, to commemorate his last deeds as a Kingsguard."
"The sins of Tywin should not be borne by his son. I trust you for now, Lannister, and I'll give you some free reign." They watched Judith and Tommen sprint down the River Walk. Claudia ran after both with her son in her hand, profusely apologising to the unamused courtiers whom the mischievous children nearly bumped into. "So what will you do now?" Rick asked.
"Watch my younger nephew grow up. I suppose we could stay in King's Landing. Lord Carl left us enough wealth left to keep us comfortable, and Tommen has known no other home. Or we could go to the Citadel after the Ironborn are driven back from the Reach and become maesters. Or Braavos, perhaps. My family is experienced in dealing with gold. Now that we are free of the titles that bind us, it would do Tommen good to see more of the world - Ah, there they are. Maybe our children aren't so different after all."
Judith was now skipping merrily back up the River Walk, her right hand curled around Carl's uninjured arm, a black kitten in her left hand. Edward and Tommen were scampering about, playing fetch with the other two kittens under Claudia's watchful eye. Carl and Arya were talking among themselves. Rick wondered what terms they intended to demand for the unconsulted betrothal.
"Bubba's back! Bubba's back!" Judith chattered over and over again, hugging onto Carl's leg.
"Carl, you've met your aunt and cousin then." Rick studied his son's determined face. "And you're up to something with Arya. Is it about the betrothal? Name your terms."
Tyrion beckoned to Tommen and began to walk away. "And that is my cue to dismiss myself. Come now, nephew, with your kittens. The Grimes are busy."
Carl lifted up his plastered arm and began to read off some hastily scrawled words. "One, Arya and I will decide where we live after we are wed. You and the Blackfish can decide for us before then. Two, we will decide how we treat each other in this betrothal, or even after we marry. Maybe we will fall in love. Maybe we will just be friends. We will stay betrothed and marry when we grow up so people don't war each other again, but beyond that it is nobody else's business."
"You will also not punish Carl for everything he did to take and keep King's Landing," Arya quickly added. "Including the executions. If you punish him, Sansa and I will run away and Carl can run away with us too."
"You drive a hard bargain. Fine, I'll take these terms." Rick stifled his laughter. "But don't think you're off the hook, Carl. If all of you will excuse us. I would like to talk to my son privately."
Arya awkwardly shuffled off, still blushing, and Carl looked up at Rick defiantly. He had to know what was coming.
"You know you should not have executed anyone," Rick said, "That isn't something we do anymore,"
"Who's we?" Carl spat. "Literally everyone in Alexandria thinks you're wrong. Everyone in Westeros too. Even Mom and Maggie… and me." Carl's tone slightly softened. "It isn't as if the world suddenly becomes better when we stop executing people like Negan. I agreed to let Tywin live so that our raid wouldn't fail, Joffrey because he was too young to know what he was doing and he was manipulated too. But Cersei? Ilyn? Kevan? Lancel? Not gonna lie, dad, but I don't give a fuck."
"Maybe Kevan and Lancel didn't deserve to die," Rick suggested.
"Maybe. Or maybe not, but they're dead anyway. Just like Arya's dad. Or her brothers. Or those killed by the Lannister soldiers when we took the city. You didn't ask about those either. Instead you asked about Queen Cunt and Arya's dad's murderer. Why does killing a few evildoers matter so much to you when innocents are dying left and right?"
Rick let out a soft sigh. Where to start? Despite what Carl had gone through over all these years, the boy was just twelve years old. Not nearly old enough to grasp the nuances of leadership. And yet…
If Carl couldn't lead at all, father and son would not be arguing in King's Landing in the first place.
Carl would just have to learn how to lead better, and it was his father's job to teach him.
"You still don't get it, do you? Or do you get it but don't believe me? Have you noticed how well things are going for us back in Alexandria, even before we 'teleported' into this world? If I'm going to lead our people, and now this means the Westerosi as well as the Alexandrians, they need to respect me and see that I'm more capable. Not better, of course, but more capable than they are. Killing is the expected thing, killing is what everyone wants to see. But I'm the one who doesn't kill. I'm the one who points out a better way. I could take the easy way out, but I choose to do the right thing instead. And that, Carl, is what makes me a leader."
"So you're asking people not to kill, just so they would accept you as their leader?"
"Not just that. As a leader, I'm then showing everyone that we're better than our emotions. More than our rage and fury, more than our anger and hatred. We Alexandrians are civilized people after all, and if we teach them well, the Westerosi too should be able to catch up in a few generations." Maybe in yours, Rick nearly added. Or even in Rick's own generation too, if everything went perfectly well… which was never going to happen. "But if we ever go back to how things were before, kill to survive and all that…" Rick shuddered. The names of all those he had lost since the old world fell apart came swarming back to him. Shane, Glenn, Carol… Lori, Lori, Lori. He absentmindedly ran his hand through Carl's hair, hair as long and dark as the boy's mother. "That's when everything starts to fall apart again. Not just my own leadership, but the new world that we're trying so hard to build. Do you understand?"
Carl finally nodded. "I guess so. But what happens if the people want to go their own way instead of yours? Should we wait until they change their mind? Or should we make them follow your way even if most of them don't like it? Aren't we supposed to treat the Westerosi as equals?"
Truth be told, Rick didn't know the answer. When was the last time his own followers seriously opposed him, in this world or in the one he came from? Maybe I should ask Michonne later, he thought. Surely she would know by reading her thick legal tomes.
A sudden crash provided the excuse he needed. "That, son, is a question for another day." He stood up and dusted his trousers, then went over to where the mother of all temper tantrums was erupting. Carl followed close on his heels.
"We're trying to teach Judith how to read," Claudia dodged the book Judith threw at her. Rick swiftly glanced around. The nearby Westerosi were trying their best to pretend they didn't see what was happening.
"NO!" the girl screamed. Yet another book sliced across the air and bounced off Rick's chest.
"Hey-"
Claudia tugged at Rick's sleeve. "We're trying to ignore her until she calms down, or she's just going to keep escalating to catch our attention." The Spanish woman finally ran out of patience after two more books were thrown. "Not anymore." she walked up to Judith and picked up the books one by one. "Fine. Since you don't read anymore, I'm giving all your books to Edward."
"NOOO!" Judith screamed again. She leapt out of her small chair and tried to grab at the books. Claudia lifted the books higher.
Claudia finally relented a few minutes later. "You will get one book back," she said, handing the top book back to Judith. "When you have finished a book, I'll give you the next one. Or do you want me to read to you?"
" 'arl." Judith pointed a pudgy finger at her brother. " 'arl can do the reading."
"Which book would you want to read?" Carl asked.
"I'll leave you guys to it then. Carl and Arya, stay here and watch the two younger kids. Claudia, go find Andrea and tell her we'll have a picnic here. There's one more small thing for me to sort out." Rick started towards White Sword Tower.
To Rick's surprise, Tywin Lannister threw an even larger tantrum than Judith.
In all fairness, the former Lord of Casterly Rock did not start off screaming. "The Lord of Alexandria," Tywin said stiffly. Defiance still blazed from his eyes, but he looked… tired. Done for. "Did you come here to restore the dignity of my House, so that proper peace may be achieved between the Westerlands and your realm? Or did you come here to mock me further?"
Rick shook his head. "Neither. Some nobles may remain, but it is going out of fashion south of the Trident. I will not create or restore any more of your Westerosi 'Houses' than I need to. Certainly not yours, when you have caused so much grief for what used to be the Seven Kingdoms." From a small window, he could already spot sails slowly inching over the horizon. "I won't mock you either. You will be leaving King's Landing soon anyway when Manderly's ships arrive. I thought I'd drop by in case there was anything you wanted to say."
"You have... won, Rick of Alexandria, I'll grant you that. Only because your people's armaments are far better than ours, and because the gods have chosen to grant you Bloody Ben reborn while they granted me morons for children and grandchildren." Tywin growled through gritted teeth. His fist crashed into the table, nearly beating a dent into the White Book that Rick brought into the room. "But mark my words, Outworlder! One day the people of Westeros will reject you as surely as you reject our customs! Neither the strength of your arms and the valour of your son will avail you in the end, though they may save your skin for a little while longer, and your people will be driven back to your island and destroyed by every man who lives under the Sun. Destroyed! Do you hear me? Then the ruin which befalls me today will be yours to share-"
Rick silently listened as gibberish spewed from Tywin's mouth, resisting the growing urge to snap at the man. Like father like son, he was tempted to say, but that wasn't entirely true either. The man was horrid, Rick thought, but some of Tywin's descendants had somehow turned out alright. Finally, the leader of Alexandria had had enough.
"Tommen is a sweet boy, the sort of kid any loving grandfather would wish to have. Neither Carl nor anyone I've talked to had anything bad to say about your son Tyrion. As for Jaime, read for yourself!" Rick shouted. He flipped the White Book open to Jaime Lannister's entry and pointed out Carl's script. "Died in defense of King's Landing. All three of them are better men than you, at least none of them threw a whole continent into death and ruin. We Alexandrians are better men than you. The Northmen are better men than you. Even my twelve year old is a better man than you. Enjoy the Wall, Tywin. Live long and suffer."
Rick slammed the door behind him on his way out. It was a good day, too good of a day to waste on tyrants like Tywin. But perfect for a picnic with his family instead.