TDC: Missing Scenes and What If Scenarios
By
Arrow4131
And
Leilani972
Chapter 19: What If Edmure had been Captured? Part 3
Summary: The continuation of our favorite character's story, as the war nears its end and Edmure is about to know his fate.
This work is inspired by The Dragon Cub by Alperez16. Each chapter is a missing scene from key moments in the original story and a chance for us to answer a few what-if questions.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
The Northern Camp, The Trident, 298 AC
Just after the Second Battle of The Trident
Edmure Tully, aka, The Floppy Fish
When Edmure regained consciousness, he was in a tent that resembled the one he had when he was laying siege at Stone Hedge. His head was pounding intensely and he tried to remember what horrible dream he had that had put him in that state.
He laughed and shook his head as he realized he might have drunk himself to stupor and dreamed about the worst-case scenario if he'd failed to take the Brackens lands.
Losing his dignity, his remaining family betraying him, his family friend trying to usurp his authority, then having to almost beg for his life to the Lannisters and then finding out that the bastard he'd tried to kill was really a Targaryen because he has dragons.
What a load of crap! He thought, chuckling even more to himself.
"What are you laughing at, you idiot? Do you find our situation funny?"
Edmure jolted awake, sobering up after hearing the startling harsh voice. He tried to move his right hand, only to find it bound to a pole.
"What… Where am I?"
"Did the fall on your head alter the last functioning part of your brain?"
Edmure turned to glare at the voice and gasped when he saw who was verbally attacking him.
"Jon? Is that you? By the Gods… What happened to you?"
Assuredly, the Hand of the King was already old, older than Hoster had been, but he looked like he had aged overnight. His hand was bandaged and it was clear he was missing a limb. What struck Edmure more was the bitterness and the hatred etched on his face.
"What happened?" Jon Arryn laughed bitterly. "Ned fucking Stark, his fucking direwolf, and what's even more, a fucking dragon happened."
"Dragon?" Edmure repeated numbly before reality fell over him. "Wait, you mean that was all real?"
"Oh yes, all of it! Including the part where you got yourself captured at Stone Hedge and how you lost Riverrun to the fucking Mockingbird of all people. What possessed you to leave the keep and give it to your halfwit sister?"
"The… Some of the Riverlords were declaring for the bastard and…"
"Then you should have waited for reinforcements from Robert to deal with them! Now we are all lost with no means to regroup, thanks to you and your family's stupidity!"
"You said the dragon was real! How can we beat a dragon?"
"We could have asked the Maesters, we could have bid our time…"
"My, my! You are as delusional as Floppy over there!" Gerion Lannister said, surprising them with his sudden presence. "And here I thought that having a hand severed by a direwolf would make someone sober up, I guess you need to face some more harsh truths."
"Why are you here, Lannister?"
"I'm here to keep an eye on Floppy and also to witness the happy family reunion! Aren't you both pleased to be with your goodbrother?"
"Speaking of goodbrothers, where's Littlefinger?" Edmure asked, suddenly panicked.
"We had to place him elsewhere, for your fellow goodbrother over here tried to strangle him with his valid hand," Gerion said, visibly amused. "Some grudges can't be forgotten it seems!"
"Grudges? That worm deserves to die! He slept with my then-wife, and tried to pass his bastard as mine! If Lysa wasn't already dead, I swear I -"
"What? What did you say?" Edmure yelled as shock coursed through his body.
"I told you that Lady Lysa had been thrown in the Black Cells with her son," Gerion started. "I was waiting for you to meet with Jon Arryn to tell you of their fate. I am sorry to say that they both passed away. Sorry for them, not for you. They didn't deserve to die the way they did."
Edmure fell to his knees, processing the news with disbelief. He had almost forgotten about his sister being locked up, with all that happened to him lately, but to hear of her death, of Sweetrobin's…
Fury quickly replaced his shock, and he would have jumped on Jon Arryn were it not for the pole he was tied to.
"You murdered my sister and nephew without a trial? And you lied to me so I would still fight for you? How dare you! My house has been loyal to Robert since the very beginning and this is how you treat us? Did you honestly think that I wouldn't find out? And what about my Uncle Brynden? He would've found out and he's been extremely loyal to House Arryn as the Knight of the Bloody Gate! Tell me, did you have any proof or did you just take the words of a song as enough evidence to throw away years of loyalty and friendship between our two houses?"
"If your family was so loyal then why did your father give me a poisonous, adulterous daughter for a wife? Why didn't he warn me about Baelish being untrustworthy? And you are the worst of them all. How Hoster failed to raise you properly is beyond me. A man so incompetent and idiotic that his own bannermen abandoned him and joined the enemy the first chance they got is an absolute disgrace."
"How dare you? You never trusted my family, did you? If so, you would have believed your wife over hearsays!"
"I hate to break such a delightfully amusing argument between such honorable men, but I came here to give you some news about the war," Gerion said dryly with his Lannister Smirk that Edmure had come to truly hate.
"I thought you said you were here to watch over Edmure," Jon retorted.
"That is true, but I also wanted to see your reaction as well."
"What now?" Jon sighed loudly.
"Robert Baratheon is dead. If you thought you had a chance to escape your fate, I think that you'll need to reconsider."
"Dead? Robert? How?"
"How do you think? He stupidly agreed to face Jaehaerys in a duel. One of them was young, freshly knighted and his skill renowned in all the Seven Kingdoms. The other was Robert Baratheon. Do I need to go through more details?"
Despair gripped Edmure's heart as he then realized that they had truly lost. Not that they really stood a chance against a fire-breathing dragon, but the Gods seemed to have truly abandoned them.
Gerion walked away with a skip in his step, seemingly happy to have witnessed their distress. Edmure couldn't see how he could save his life at that point. The bastard hated him and he knew what he'd done, so there was little to no chance of him keeping his head.
For a moment, he thought about making a deal with Littlefinger, but he couldn't trust the man after what had happened. He needed to think of a way to sway the bastard into believing he was on his side, fast.
He spent the rest of the night trying to remember all he knew about Jaehaerys Targaryen. The sole fact that he would need to call that boy king soon made him want to wretch, but he needed to survive if he wanted to get back at everyone who wronged him, especially his sister who put him in this position. Had she not trusted Littlefinger to hire the assassins both times, then the boy would already be a distant memory.
Jon Snow bonded with almost all of the Lannister family. They said he was the one who made the opening of the mines from Castamere possible. But Jaime Lannister was sure to hate him as he knew he was behind the assassination attempts on his former squire. Gerion Lannister hated him already before this happened for the incident over his bastard's mother, so trying to get into their good graces would be for naught.
The other thing he heard about Jon Snow was how proud he was to be a Northerner and how his actions had helped the North to prosper. Edmure had thought at first it was a way to bring the North to the bastard's cause, as Catelyn all but repeated, so they wouldn't bat an eye when he would take Winterfell. Now he knew that the bastard had his sight in a more prestigious keep and even Ned Stark was encouraging him to get it.
Stark! That's it!
He had to talk to Ned Stark. All of this misunderstanding was his fault in the first place. Had he told his wife the truth, then surely Catelyn and the Tullys would have supported the boy's claim! Moreover, Robb was Edmure's nephew and he was close to the future king. That had to count for something!
"I demand to speak to Ned Stark this instant!" he yelled to the guards outside.
"You will speak to Lord Stark when Lord Stark has seen fit to talk to you!" one of them answered.
"I will have your hand for speaking to me this way!"
"The only hand in danger is the one taken by Lord Stark's direwolf." the guard guffawed, making Jon Arryn squirm on his bed.
"I need to -"
"For the love of the Gods, Edmure! You need to shut up and wait. You are a prisoner. You are not in a position to make demands." Jon Arryn exclaimed, annoyed by his attitude.
Edmure stopped arguing, but not without sending a glare to his former goodbrother. He was tired of people belittling him but could do nothing about it. Before going back to sleep, he sent out a little prayer to the Gods so they would protect and avenge him when the time came.
Some of his wishes were granted when some men wearing Stark colors came the next day to get him. Edmure thought that his former goodbrother had seen how badly he was treated and realized that it was unacceptable for someone of his status, but the way he was welcomed showed how wrong he was.
He had seen and heard how brutish the Northern men were, but as he struggled to get up while nursing his broken nose, he found out the hard way that Ned Stark was truly the Warden of the North, for he displayed exactly how strong one from this kingdom could be when angry.
"That is for what you tried to do to my nephew. I would kill you myself if I could, but I swore to Jaehaerys that I would let him swing the sword."
"You would kill your sons and daughters' kin because you were a coward and hid your true motives from my sister? Not only would you be a kinslayer, but most of all, why would I have to pay for you and your family's transgressions?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"You lied to my sister. You deliberately made her hate the boy so you would hold it against her later and set her aside before trying to push him on the Throne. Do you think me stupid? I know you had been forced to wed her to get Father's support during the Rebellion. You might have hated him and her so much when you found out that it had been for naught, that Lyanna hadn't been kidnapped and had been whoring-"
The force of the hit he received in the stomach took his breath away, but it was the presence of the monstrous snarling direwolf in front of him that almost made him faint with fear.
"If you ever speak ill of any member of my family, I will not hesitate to kill you and I will become an oathbreaker. However, I'm certain that Jaehaerys will forgive me, as your loss will not be one felt by many, not even by your own family. Am I understood?" Ned asked menacingly and Edmure nodded, out of breath. "Good, now that we've settled this, the meeting can officially start."
Edmure managed to find his breath back and realized as he heard the snickers around him that they had an audience all along. His nephew was there, looking disappointed, with some lords of the North and the Riverlands and, of course, Gerion fucking Lannister.
"You've been called in this tent out of courtesy, as the former Lord Paramount of the Trident. There are still some pockets of contention but the war against Robert Baratheon is officially over. The Stormlands, the Vale, and those who were fighting for you in the Riverlands have surrendered and await the King's judgement. The Iron Islands are being dealt with by our forces as we speak."
"Are you sure the Vale won't pose a threat to us anymore?" One of the Lords of the North asked.
"I don't think they'll be a problem. We saw Yohn Royce leaving on our way here, and he said that his House would be standing down in the war. But I'm still confused as to why he had been willing to abandon the Falcon like that. Does anyone have any idea why?." Gerion asked.
"I think I might be able to answer that question, Lord Gerion. Tell me, Lord Stark. By any chance did Jon fail to mention to his bannermen that they would not be receiving any reinforcements from Stannis thanks to Dorne?" Littlefinger asked, causing everyone in the room to stare at him in surprise until Ned managed to compose himself to give a response.
"Why isn't he bound and gagged somewhere?" Edmure asked harshly.
"I am personally responsible for Baelish's protection until he faces the King's justice," Ned answered before turning to Littlefinger. "I shouldn't answer any questions coming from you, but aye, Jon did. In fact, when I told them during the parley that their wait for Stannis was going to be a long one and why, Jon was quick to call it a lie. Desperate even. How did you know he had done that?"
"Simple, I've worked closely with Lord Arryn for years and he trusted me with quite a few of his secrets. So I know how he thinks and I know that he is not the paragon of honor and chivalry that he would have people believe about him. But over the last several years, old age has been creeping up on him and making it very difficult for him to keep up the charade, so when he gets desperate he tends to act out and show his true colors. Now that his secrets are about to be exposed by someone from a house that he had worked so hard to eradicate… well, he's more than likely been feeling even more desperate. So I wouldn't be surprised if he believed that fighting was the only way he would be able to keep his head. And while the Knights of the Vale are extremely loyal to him, they are not fools and would never have agreed to march without support. They would've wanted to stay behind the Bloody Gate instead and simply wait for you and your army to come to them." Littlefinger said with a smirk while shrugging his shoulders.
"Not that it would've done them any good. Lygaron would have just flown over the Bloody Gate and straight to The Eyrie just like Visenya did with her dragon during the Conquest." The GreatJon bellowed, causing the other Lords in the tent to start laughing until a voice from behind interrupted them.
"Unfortunately I have neither the hair nor the height for such a feat."
When Edmure turned to see who was speaking, his head started to spin from shock and confusion when he saw… the Imp?
It couldn't be, he must be seeing things. The Imp of Casterly Rock should be wearing the normal Lannister colors, but he was instead walking in wearing black and red, along with a small silver crown on his head.
What in the Seven Hells is going on here?
"Ah Lord Edmure! I am so glad that you are here. I was hoping for a chance to say a few words to you. But first, could you kindly bend down so I can see your face properly?"
"Why should I dwarf?"
"Really? Dwarf? That's the best insult you can come up with? Come now Tully you can do better." The Imp said in a mocking tone that caused Edmure to see red. Which made him decide to accommodate this abomination and then show him the error of his words. So he walked over and bent his head close enough to feel the dwarf breathe.
"Listen here you little-"
SLAP! SLAP!
Edmure was so stunned to feel both sides of his face on fire from the slaps that he ended falling over onto his ass. This of course caused everyone in the room to once again start laughing at him.
How much humiliation am I expected to take from these liars and traitors? I'm owed far more respect as a Lord Paramount!
When he opened his mouth to rebuke the dwarf, he saw something that he did not expect to ever see which made him pause for a moment.
Anger.
Pure red hot anger combined with absolute hatred in his eyes was on the face of his tormentor.
"The first slap was for trying to kill my nephew. The second one was a gift from Sela and her children. Your assassination attempt may have failed on your intended target, but your crime still cost the life of a good man who was merely doing his duty. And thanks to you, his dear wife is a widow and her very young children will be without a father.
"Nephew? What are you talking about?"
"Have you not seen the dragon out there? Tyrion is his rider. He is the son of Aerys Targaryen and Joanna Lannister and uncle to King Jaehaerys." Gerion responded with yet another smirk.
Edmure frowned as he tried to understand what had been said to him.
"So, that makes you a bastard?" he said before laughing. "That's rich!"
"I am a Prince of House Targaryen, legitimized by his Grace, a Lannister by blood and I am a dragonrider. The opinion of a homeless trout matters very little to me. What does matter, however, is that you tried to harm my family."
"Is that how he brought you to his side? By promising you to be more than a bastard dwarf born of rape? Did he promise you to find you a bride when he would be king? I pity the poor lady who will be tied with you! Just as I pity your mother for having to birth your ugly self! Tywin Lannister must be relieved where he is that an abomination such as yourself is the byproduct of Targaryen madness and not his own loins. And you all want to follow him and the other bastard?"
The Imp smiled at him, as if his words were going through him without making any effect. Before Edmure could continue his verbal abuse, the so-called Prince made a slight nod and the former Lord of Riverrun gasped when he felt the cold of a blade on his neck.
"As I said, your opinion doesn't matter to me, but your words still hold weight, Tully. Speaking ill of my family will be seen as treasonous. My friend Jors over there, who is Kingsguard to Jaehaerys and in charge of my protection, will ensure you will never do that again. He also has something to settle with you from his encounter with the assassins you sent for my nephew in the Riverlands, a few years ago."
"Go ahead, say one word. I dare you. Give me a reason to kill you right now and avenge my friend Alyrs. His wife and children will thank me." The Kingsguard said with hate dripping from his words.
Edmure lifted his hands in surrender. He knew he would not be able to get the upper hand and would also get no support from any of the men around him.
"Very well. We are starting our journey to King's Landing. Lord Stark has suggested that we send the wounded back to their keeps after they've been cleared for travel, with the squires, then the men at arms and the smallfolk. The Lords and Knights of the Vale who are captive will be sent to King's landing once it has been secured."
"Are you sure that it's a good idea to send the men back?" Robb asked with a look of confusion.
"We have the heads of their Houses as hostages if they don't surrender and the King has been clear on this, he will not punish the smallfolk who have no choice but to follow their Lords in battle. Things are about to change and we need to set an example by how we're handling things in the aftermath of the war." Tyrion Lannister said.
"Especially since it's very obvious that the old Falcon wouldn't have shown us the same courtesy after he tried to kill Lord Stark with a hidden dagger." Lord Tytos said with a scowl.
"Oh, so that's why he's missing a hand!" Littlefinger exclaimed knowingly.
"Aye, Lya didn't take kindly to the attempt on my life," Ned said, causing several of the Lords to chuckle.
"In the meantime, the tumbrels should be arriving fairly soon and when they do, we'll pack up Baelish, Tully and Arryn for our march south to the Capitol. Until then, I'll leave Lord Stark to decide on who will stay to watch over the Vale prisoners and who will be joining us. But I would advise you all to make certain that your men, and women of course are told that accepting bribes from the Mockingbird will not be taken lightly by Lygaron." The Imp said while throwing a smirk at Littlefinger.
Edmure felt a bit relieved to know that his goodbrother would not be able to escape at all. He even felt a bit happy when he saw the weasel was looking a bit pale now that he knew escape will not be possible anytime soon. Maybe even never.
That happiness soon disappeared as he was being escorted by Gerion Lannister to a new tent that was separate from Jon Arryn.
"Hey look boys! It's Ser Faintheart! Isn't he looking just fine now that Lygaron is out of sight?"
"He may look fine but I doubt he smells fine. I heard that he soiled himself when he saw our Prince flying around!"
"Ahhh poor baby trout! Let's help him feel better with the new song the bards wrote!"
Thus Edmure was once again forced to endure more humiliation by having to listen to the men sing "Ser Faintheart" over and over again for almost the entire night.
King's Landing
Weeks later, Edmure was now sitting in a dungeon of the Red Keep. Littlefinger was also in a cell but in a different part of the keep being guarded by men of the Hundred. Apparently, these men were less likely to be bribed by money that the weasel no longer had access to. Edmure had tried his luck with his guards, but those had also been recruited by Gerion Lannister and were deeply loyal to their Lords.
His dear sister was also in a cell but she was merely down the hall from him. Thankfully, she never bothered him so it was easy to forget that she was there.
Unfortunately, it was not so easy to forget who was now in charge and would soon be sitting on the Iron Throne. From what the guards had said within his hearing, the crowning ceremony was to be later today with the trial of Jon Arryn to follow sometime the next morning.
Despite the appalling conditions that he was forced to sleep in and the so-called food he had to endure eating every day. The thought of the murderous falcon squirming while on trial made Edmure smile on a few occasions. He prayed fervently that the gods would allow him to watch the trial for himself so he may see his House avenged of the transgressions that had been inflicted on him by someone who was supposed to be kin. Once again, they denied him his wishes while granting him another.
After hearing of Jon Arryn's death, he had been visited by someone unexpected.
While he was hoping to see his nephew before his trial, he never expected his niece to come with him. Sansa looked every inch like her mother, from the color of her hair to her condescending glare.
"I thought you would be visiting your mother and not me," he inquired.
"We did, but we wanted to see you before the trial. Arya is spending time with Mother as we speak."
"Even in your tone, you sound like Cat," he spat, annoyed by his niece's attitude.
"Do not compare me to that woman. I want nothing to do with her. She might have birthed me, but I am nothing like her!"
"Yet I can feel her judgement through your gaze and your voice."
"How do you expect us to behave when you tried to kill our brother?" Robb intervened.
"He is not your brother."
"You seem to resent our mother's attitude, yet you mirror her in your words," Sansa pointed out.
"Are you here to chastise me? If you are, then I think we're done here."
"We are here to understand your motives. We are here to understand why you would try to kill a boy who did nothing to you." Robb countered.
"No, you're here to make me confess things I have not done so your mother can get away with it."
"Why would I do that? I just told you that I don't want anything to do with her!" Sansa exclaimed, making Edmure frown.
"Do you think me stupid as she does? I know Cat. I fell for her tricks once but no more! If she wants to blame someone for what she did, just ask her husband to do it."
"Mother is not one for using tricks, Uncle," Robb said, and the lost look on his nephew's face made Edmure explode.
"If Cat had it her way, you would be the Warden of the North and Brandon would have had Riverrun!" Edmure yelled. "Your mother betrayed me and she almost got her wish, but the Gods saw fit to have me rule Riverrun after Father's death. She spat on our family words and that's why she never succeeded in killing the bastard, why she was set aside and why she will lose her head. Because Riverrun was to be mine, not Brandon's, not anyone else, mine!"
"What? What nonsense is this about Bran?"
Edmure was certain that Catelyn was behind their father disinheriting him. Her insistence on having him be the fool when she could have gone directly to Littlefinger in the first place, her wanting to be the Lady of Riverrun when she was set aside… All of it made sense to him, especially since he had time to think about how he got into this cell. After all, it was after she came to Riverrun that Hoster had written his will of disinheritance and in his eyes, she was as much to blame for their father's death as he was. The Gods wouldn't have struck down Hoster as they did, had she not interfered in the ruling of his keep.
He was so lost in his raving thoughts that he didn't realize that he had talked out loud. Not even Sansa's gasp nor Robb's horrified gaze made him aware of what he had just confessed to his kin.
"You are a mad man. I will not shed one tear for you when they take your head." Sansa spat before leaving abruptly.
"I cannot believe you. You are no better than Mother. You both hide behind the Seven to justify your crimes. You said that she'd spat on your house's words, but you did no better when you usurped your own nephew. To think that you would try to kill Jae when Mother thought he would do the same to me. What should I do to you for what you did to my brother?"
"I… I never…" Edmure stammered, shocked by the violence of Robb's words. He felt like his nephew was stabbing him with his hatred.
"You disgust me. I was willing to give you a chance, to try to believe that what you did was simply your willingness to protect me and your sister. I wanted to understand your actions even if I couldn't condone them, but now… now I realize that both you and mother are rotten to the core."
"Robb, wait, I-"
"I wish you good fortune, Ser Edmure. Pray to your Gods, for you will need them to face your sins soon."
Robb didn't listen to Edmure's pleas and the prisoner found himself alone and confused by what happened with his kin. He was so certain they were in the know, that they were on Cat's side. Then he remembered that his sister lamented that her children wanted nothing to do with her and he realized that they had come to him willingly, not for some ploy, and he truly felt ashamed of his attitude.
He cursed himself for his stupidity the next time he saw them. He was bound in front of the people who would decide his fate and his niece came forward to testify against him. She recited their conversation word by word and Edmure could feel the weight of the Lords' gazes on him.
"My uncle said in anger that his father was about to disinherit him and that it was by the Gods' grace that he had died before sending word of it. I believe that Edmure Tully had a hand in my Grandfather's death."
"I object to those accusations. I do not even remember this conversation!"
"Do you deny that Lady Sansa and Lord Robb Stark visited you a fortnight ago?" the boy who Edmure would not call king asked.
"I do not, as I do not deny being angry at their mother, but I cannot recall saying anything about usurping Brandon."
"Ser Richard, were you able to confirm the story recounted by Lady Sansa?"
"Yes, your Grace. Lord Edmure had been heard by the two guards tasked to watch his cell, and by the ones who were following the Lord and Lady Stark."
"Have you found any proof of it?"
"We are looking into it, Your Grace," Ser Richard answered to Edmure's shock.
"You cannot be serious?"
"It's a very serious accusation and we need to get the truth of it. Whatever it takes, Ser Richard, I want to ease my sister's concerns about the death of her Grandfather and the possible usurpation of my brother's right."
"Right? What right does your so-called brother have on my land? I am the Lord of Riverrun!"
"Not according to your own words. Your father was about to give your precious lands to my brother."
"There is no proof of that! What proof do you have that Sansa and Robb are not lying?"
"Well, the fact that other people heard you say the same thing," Ser Richard said matter-of-factly.
"This is ridiculous. They could have been bribed by the Starks. It proves nothing."
"They have nothing to gain from telling us what you stated. Bran would have been named Lord of Riverrun with or without their testimony." the boy retorted.
"Why would my father disinherit me in the first place when I'm his only son?"
"It's because of what you've done that you left him no choice," the so called-king said, mirroring the last words Hoster had said to Edmure and making the latter reel back in shock.
"What…"
"Or mayhaps he tried to save you from yourself, save your family from ruin… Who knows?"
The knowing smirk on the bastard's face made Edmure uncomfortable. He tried not to react but as their gaze locked and he felt a chill pass on his pine, he couldn't help but to wonder what sorcery that boy was using.
How could he know?
"Only the Gods know." he managed to say with mock confidence.
"'But before you'll face the Gods' judgment, you'll have to face your peers and mine."
"I will not follow your rules. Not now and not ever. You wrote in your letter to me that you wanted to see me down, how can I trust you to be partial?"
"Fair point."
"That is why. I demand a Trial by Combat!"
"Very well, do you have a champion?"
"I don't need a champion bastard! I'll gladly gut you myself!" He said with a smirk, feeling his confidence return.
This time would be different. He would have an actual sword this time. No blunted swords and knives to protect him in a tourney. No horse to slow him down in an honor duel. And most importantly, no one was allowed to protect the one responsible for his family's downfall from being properly gutted and proving once and for all that dragons could be slain.
"Now why would His Grace waste his time, his breath and his sword on someone so pitiful?" A voice called out.
When he turned around to throw a cutting remark, he saw to his surprise that the one who had dared to insult him was a woman. A woman who was wearing Dornish colors and was now striding forward to the front of the room.
"I have heard of the 'great' fighting skills you showcased in the last tourney, so I find it very amusing that you think you could actually kill our King when you couldn't even beat him in the melee. And you had friends at that time to help you, so that makes your chances of winning even more dismal, to say the very least."
"If you're trying to talk me out of this then it won't work. I'll avenge the transgressions that were set against my house if it's the last thing I do."
"Oh, on the contrary, I'm not trying to stop you. Quite the opposite in fact. I want you to fight, but I would like to offer this court an alternative that should satisfy both you and His Grace."
Edmure stared at this woman in confusion for surely she couldn't be a real woman. While she might be near to his own age, she was too big-boned, long-legged, with close-set eyes and with rat-brown hair which she had tied up in a knot to look like a proper woman.
Instead of a gown like women should wear, this abnormal creature was instead wearing men's breeches, a calf-length linen tunic, and a belt of copper suns. She also seemed a bit familiar.
"Your Grace, I know that under normal circumstances you would either swing the sword yourself or have one of your Kingsguard do it in your stead as per tradition," she said, turning to the throne before he could really think about why she seemed that way. "But I don't think it would do for Lord Trout here to be humiliated in death by being killed by someone half his age and by his own words, very green."
"You make a good point Obara. What did you have in mind?" the boy smiled at her
"Simple, he needs an opponent who's closer to his age, someone who has more experience in combat, and most importantly, he needs to face someone who is your kin. That way he'll face a proper champion for the Crown."
"Hmm, that could work. I like it. An excellent idea! Did you by any chance have anyone in mind?" the boy said with a glint in his eyes that Edmure failed to notice since he was too busy staring at this Obara woman who seemed to know the boy so well.
"Well as a matter of fact I do have someone, but it would only work if you both agreed to this. My Lord? Is this agreeable for you?" Obara asked, turning to face him with a small smile on her face.
At first, Edmure was going to answer with an insult and demand his due with the boy king. But then he stopped to think about how this might work in his favor. After all, as much he hated to admit it, he knew that his chances at being able to win against the boy were very slim. Possible, but still slim nonetheless. It would be even slimmer against the Kingsguard. He needed an opponent that he could beat rather easily to not only keep his head, but also humiliate his enemies. Then he could go back to the Riverlands and set things right with his House. Of course, it wouldn't be an easy feat thanks to everyone being suspicious about his disinheritance.
Wait! That's it!
"That would be agreeable to me on two conditions."
"Which is…?" the boy asked with a look of annoyance.
"When I win, I want everything returned to me. My land, my titles, my men, everything that rightfully belongs to me and that you will apologize to me for all of the slanderous words you spoke against me and my House."
His words caused the entire room to stir in whispers of confusion and shock, but Edmure was more focused on the boy's reaction, and he was not disappointed. While the boy king may have schooled his features to hide his thoughts from everyone else, Edmure could see right through him. He saw the look of shock in his eyes, the movement of his brow that indicated the beginning of a frown and the edges of his mouth twitching in a way that made the former Lord of Riverrun soar in his confidence.
He made me apologize to him in front of the entire court and humiliated me. Let him feel what I felt that day and more. This will be far more damaging to him than outright killing him on the field.
After a brief moment, the boy raised his hand to silence the crowd.
"I agree to those conditions. If the Gods do in fact favor you then I give you my word as King that I will restore your lands, titles and properly apologize to you for all you have endured."
Everyone in the room was shocked by the King's words, but at the same time, they were not entirely surprised when they noticed the tone of heavy sarcasm in his voice. A tone that Edmure failed to notice since he was too busy thinking about how he got one over on the boy. And that he would soon be Lord Paramount again.
"Then I accept whoever you choose as champion. I'll grind him to the dust and take back what's mine by right." He declared with a great big grin. But unfortunately for him, his happiness didn't last long.
"I was so hoping you would say that my Lord," Obara said with the biggest smirk that Edmure had ever seen.
Her attitude made him feel very confused about why she was so joyful all of the sudden, but before he could ask, the Dornish woman turned back to the boy and got on one knee.
"Your Grace, I Obara Sand of House Martell offer you my spear as the Crown's champion in this Trial by Combat. It will be an honor to avenge the crimes that were committed against you, cousin."
At that moment, Edmure's whole body went completely still in shock when he heard those words.
Wait. What? What did she say? COUSIN?! How are they cousins? Actually, what did she mean when she said that she was hoping I would agree to this? were the thoughts that were running through his mind.
"My dear cousin, it is I who is honored by your request. The trial will take place on the morrow at dawn in the Dragonpit. Sharpen your spear and fight with honor, for the Crown has named you, Obara Sand, as its Champion."
"Take the prisoner back to his cell." The Kingslayer commanded, snapping Edmure out of his shocked stupor which was quickly replaced with absolute fury.
"What is this? You expect me to face a bastard from Dorne, you coward! And a woman at that? Is she even a woman at all? She certainly doesn't look like one! And she most certainly does not look like your cousin! You're just tricking me with lies and cowardice!"
"No tricks, Lord Trout. You agreed to fight whoever His Grace chose as his champion, so it's not his fault that you assumed that he would choose a trueborn man. Besides, you should see this as a grand opportunity. You spent so much time, energy, and money trying to bring a supposed bastard down low who turned out to be a trueborn king that it was you who was brought low. So now you have a chance to fight a real bastard who's just a mere woman. So defeating me shouldn't be too difficult right? After all, you did say that you would grind whoever His Grace chose into dust. But words are wind, my Lord and actions speak far louder. So we'll soon see if your words ring true or not." The bastard bitch said with a condescending grin.
Edmure felt his arms being grabbed by the guards and, before he knew it, was being dragged out of the room. Though he wouldn't go quietly, not when they were continuing to mistreat him.
"LET ME GO YOU SIMPLETONS! YOU CALL THIS JUSTICE YOU COWARD? THIS IS JUST ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY TO HUMILIATE ME! HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH! FACE ME YOU BASTARD AND I'LL SEND YOU TO YOUR WHORE MOTHER WHERE YOU BELONG! UNHAND ME AND I'LL FACE HIM RIGHT HERE AND-"
The doors slammed shut as he was dragged back to his cell despite doing his best to struggle. Unfortunately for him, his struggles were in vain considering that the men who were dragging him were two very big men from the North. He was then forced to spend the night in his cell where he later learned that right after the doors to the throne room had closed, everyone in the room had started laughing at him and singing the song "Ser Faintheart".
The Next Morning
The guards came for him when it was still dark out and took him to an armory where he was given his armor that had been confiscated after his failed siege. After he was fitted, the guards showed him that they had also confiscated his sword but that he could not have it until after they had arrived at the Dragonpit.
Edmure was forced to grudgingly accept and allowed himself to be led outside where some horses were waiting for them. What really surprised him was that one of the horses was for him to ride instead of a tumbrel.
"Don't look too surprised Ser Faintheart. The tumbrel would have just slowed us down and His Grace wants you there on time. So stop staring and get on." One of the guards said with such clear disrespect that he sorely wanted to correct the fool by showing how to properly speak to a Lord.
Edmure managed to restrain himself since he was very much outnumbered. Besides, he needed to save his strength for the fight ahead.
As they rode down the streets to the Dragonpit, Edmure began thinking about the bastard he was about to fight. While she might not be who he wanted to kill and as much as it pained him to admit it, she did make a valid point. He failed with the boy but he had a grand chance with the Dornish bitch. He could indirectly hurt the boy king by killing her if he truly thought of her as his cousin. And once it was done, the boy would not be able to avenge her unless he was willing to anger the Gods by interfering. Three birds with one sword, the bastard dead, the boy grief-stricken, and everything that belongs to him would be returned because the fool had given his oath to do so in front of everyone.
With those thoughts in mind, Edmure felt his confidence soar higher than it had in many weeks and he sat up a little straighter. Nothing could ruin his mood. Not even the crowd that had gathered along the sides of the road to jeer and mock him. After all, these peasants didn't matter to him, they never did and they never would. The only thing that mattered to him now was avenging his good name and taking back everything that had been taken from him.
So lost was he in his thoughts of vengeance that he didn't see the thing thrown at him before it was too late. His face felt sticky and while he tried to clean it he couldn't miss the rotten stench of a decaying fish.
"Been saving this one for ya for days, Floppy! They said that's how you smelt when you saw the dragons!" a lowborn man cackled near the road, soon joined by the rest of the crowd before they started singing that infamous song.
Rather than hurting his pride, it fueled his hatred. All of them would soon see and choke on their insults. He would make sure to show them that he was a real knight and not a fool.
But once they neared the pit his confidence began to wane a bit when he saw just how crowded it was. Every seat was filled to the point where it looked like quite a few people had to squeeze in between each other. He saw Lords and Ladies from all over the Seven Kingdoms, he saw more peasants and he saw the boy sitting with the Rose of Highgarden.
He's been pushed inside the yard unceremoniously, tripping on his armour and almost falling in front of the crowd. The booing and the laughter he received paled in comparison to the wild acclaim the Dornish Bitch had received. She arrived smiling and waving to the spectators, wearing a light armour in her House colors, her spear shining brightly and the light reflecting on the sun of her house sigil carved on it, as if it was the real one.
Edmure felt his confidence grow back. This was definitely not an attire to wear during a duel to the death. The leather she wore was easy to pierce and even if she came from his loins, Obara Sand was no Oberyn Martell.
"Good people of Westeros, My Lords, My Ladies, we are here today to witness the will of the Gods. Edmure Tully has asked for a trial by combat, and our good King Jaehaerys is to be represented by his kin, Obara Sand. This combat is to death or a yield." Jaime Lannister stated.
"I will take pleasure in seeing you die, Bastard." Edmure challenged as he received his sword from his escort.
"Today is not the day I die, Trout," Obara responded haughtily while spinning her spear.
"May the Gods bless the victor!"
Edmure reacted quickly and instantly aimed at Obara's chest, but the woman was quicker than he had expected and was able to push his sword away easily. The unexpected movement made him stumble and he yelped in pain as he felt the spear pierce his right calf, going through the armour as if it wasn't there.
"I will make you sing, Tully! But this is not the song I want to hear."
"You little…"
"Six years ago, some bandits attacked my cousin's party on its way to Casterly Rock, resulting in Jaehaerys being hurt and one of his Kingsguard killed. Were you involved in this?"
"I already said what I -" Edmure yelled once more as the spear retreated and sent a murderous glare to Obara.
"I want nothing but a yes or a no. Were you involved in this?"
"I don't have to answer you, Bastard!"
"Funny you keep calling me that. Did you know that my cousin legitimized my mother, my sisters and myself?" she said to his surprise. "I asked him to wait for the proclamation, at least for my sake."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you were the reason for my request. I wanted to be his champion. I wanted to be the one to bring you to your knees, not as Princess Obara Martell, as it would have been too much of an honor for you to be killed by a Princess of Dorne. No no, I wanted to be Obara Sand when you breathed your last. So that the last song that would be sung about you would be about a bastard woman who brought you down."
Those words made Edmure feel more hate than he ever felt before and all he could see was red. With his newfound hatred, he completely forgot about the boy king and the entire audience. He was instead focused entirely on the woman that had become the object of his fury. Up until this moment, he thought that the only person he ever wanted to kill more than anyone was the boy, but now…
"YOU BITCH!" He roared and charged towards her intending to remove her head and take it home as a trophy.
As soon as he got close, she simply stepped out of the way and swung her spear, hitting his side. Edmure cried out from the pain as he felt a crack in his ribs and fell to his knees while Obara took a few steps back to allow him a chance to recover.
"Feel free to rest Tully, I have all day. But if you want your humiliation to be over quickly then tell me, what did my cousin do that was so bad he deserved to have his hand removed after you fell down drunk two times during the feast? What did he do that made you refuse to apologize to him after you lost the Honor Dual? What did he do that he deserved to be attacked by bandits when he stepped away from the main party? Why did he need to die at the hands of a catspaw? He was just a boy of ten namedays, who was and still is loved by his friends and family. While you on the other hand are despised by everyone throughout the realm thanks to your dishonorable behavior after the honor dual. Your bannermen have abandoned you and your own father disinherited you because he knew that his House would suffer under you. You are a shame of your House, an unknightly fool and a usurper."
"Your cousin… Is the result of your Aunt's shame. How can you… Support him… Knowing that his birth led to Elia Martell's death?" Edmure said with difficulty as he was trying to catch his breath.
"That is the difference between your family and mine. Aunt Elia had embraced Jaehaerys like he was her own son. She claimed him as hers and even without the letter claiming so, we knew in our hearts that she would never punish a boy for a supposed slight against her. She was a Princess of Dorne and a Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, and she was willing to accept a boy who wasn't hers, while your sister and your family couldn't do the same with him. Why did his existence bother you so much that you had to have him die?"
"Stop talking, Obara! Focus on your task!" he heard one of the bastard's sisters say.
Obara's face then showed a newfound resolve and she pointed her spear at him, forcing him to get up and raise his sword in response.
"It doesn't matter in the end. He is the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. While you are disgraced former Lord and deservedly so. Shame on you for trying to punish a ten nameday old boy!"
Then, like a true viper, she sprang at Edmure so quickly that he barely had time to block. If he hadn't done so when he had, then her spear would have pierced his shoulder. Yet she still managed to cut his arm and the momentum she had was just the beginning.
"Shame on you for losing against a boy half your age!"
She spun around and swung at his head knocking his helm to the ground. His head still ringing from the hit, she then gave him no time to even think about trying to grab it before she continued her attack by taking advantage of his shock when he briefly took his eyes off of her to look for his missing helm. It allowed her to slice his face which caused a long cut that while not very deep, still produced enough blood that some nearly got into his eye.
"Shame on you for trying to kill a boy when all he did was defend his family's honor against a fool."
When she went to swing the spear at him again Edmure was barely able to dodge out of the way. But he wasn't quick enough since she seemed to have anticipated his move and was still able to slash his other leg. Forcing him to stumble and roll on the ground in pain.
"And shame on you for usurping your own nephew!"
"He didn't deserve what I had! I sacrificed too much for my family, and what did I get in return? Nothing!" He yelled at her in frustration.
"It's because you deserve nothing! Family, Duty, Honor are your House's words, and you can't even understand that you were leading your family to its ruin!"
"STOP! Stop that! I wasn't the one who led my family to ruin, Cat did!"
"But you helped her!"
"Because she was my sister! She was family and I would have done anything for her!"
"Anything?"
"I did everything she asked me to. I tried to discredit the bastard and it backfired! She asked me to hire assassins for her, twice, and it didn't work! I did everything so my sister could be happy and it cost me everything in return! So why should her whelp get what was rightfully mine before she threw me to the wolves?"
"What about your father? A Lord is supposed to do what is best for his House and his people. If he truly believed that you would not make a good Lord and that your leadership would lead the Riverlands to ruin then shouldn't that matter far more than what you feel is owed to you?"
"My father was a fool who refused to do anything about the bastard and nothing I did was ever good enough for him. He always found a new fault and everything he would say to me would be a new criticism. And when I finally tried doing something about the bastard, he got angry and threatened to disown me if I had anything to do with the attack. Disowning me, his only son? When everything I ever did was for the family and he couldn't see that. Why should I be disowned for doing my duty to my House? And if he truly believed that usurping his own son was the right thing to do, then why did the Gods kill him just as he was showing me the letter?"
Suddenly, to Edmure's immense confusion, the Sand bitch smiled at him almost maniacally and then she yelled out, "What do you think, Your Grace? Is that enough?"
"It's plenty enough Cousin. My thanks Tully for your confessions. I'm sure that everyone here including your former bannermen are very much relieved to know the truth now."
Once again Edmure cursed himself for stupidly letting himself get goaded into confessing all over again and for forgetting that he was being watched by an audience. But the anger he felt towards himself quickly turned into fear when he turned to look up at the crowd and saw that half of the people were glaring at him while the other half had looks of horror. The boy had a big smirk on his face which made him realize that he had been played. They wanted him to demand a Trial by Combat, they wanted him to accidentally agree to fight Obara. All so they could get a confession out of him before he died.
Right then he heard a clattering sound just beside him, and when he looked over he saw a stone that was rolling over towards him. Edmure looked up to see where it came from and what he saw nearly made him shit himself. The Riverlords had looks of pure fury that were directed at him. Even his friends looked angrier than he had thought possible.
He didn't have time to dwell on their hatred towards him as another hit sent him to the ground. He knew that bastards had no sense of honor, but this one was vicious to the core. She didn't have the decency to let him recover.
"Would you ask for your opponent to give you some respite if you were in the middle of a war, fighting for your life?" he remembered Ser Desmond said when he tried to teach him some moves on the sparring yard.
Edmure realized that he was indeed fighting for his life. The rules of the melee didn't apply in a trial by combat, proof being how he was now bleeding out from his wounds. He needed to fight, honor be damned, because he was not ready to die yet.
He grabbed some sand from the ground and threw it in the bastard's direction before crying out in frustration when the wind turned, resulting in him being the one blinded by his trick. He could hear people laughing at his misfortune as he scrubbed his eyes to remove the sand, all the while scrambling to put as much distance as he could from Obara.
She used her spear to make him trip and he let out a curse when he found himself once more on the ground.
"Stop playing, Obara! Kill him now!"
"End him for good!"
"Kill him! Kill him!"
Soon enough, chants erupted in the crowd for the bastard to finish him right there and then. He felt rather than saw her approach, the shadow of her silhouette covering his, and he desperately attempted to swing his sword, only to feel the pain of a dislocated wrist when she swatted it away with her foot.
The pain was too much for him, and he prayed as he surrendered to the darkness that they wouldn't make another song about his failure.
He opened his eyes, thinking he was in the Seven Heavens, only to hear snickers and mumbling around him. He let out a curse as his eyes locked with the amused ones of his constant torturer.
"Glad to have you back amongst the living. You've once again proved that your moniker was apt, Ser Faintheart," the bastard king chuckled.
"Why am I not dead?"
"Simple, unlike you Obara has more honor in her pinky toe than you ever had in that thing you call a brain. She's a true warrior that would never kill an opponent who faints and soils himself right before he's set to die. Moreover, killing you would be a mercy after such a pitiful display from a supposed knight of the realm and a usurper who called himself Lord Paramount. So instead I'll send you to the Wall where you might be able to grasp some semblance of honor. Or at the very least, learn the definition of the word."
"Your Grace, the punishment for harming the King is-" Obara tried objecting.
"Death, I know. Would it be for me alone, I would have his death. But seeing Sela and her children here made me think of Alyrs and his sacrifice deserves more than a clean death." the boy said softly before continuing with a steely voice. "Your name will disappear when you swear your vows. You'll forsake all of your titles and will work for the realm of men, and not for yourself for once."
Edmure felt his stomach drop when he heard those words. The Wall was a place for rapers, thieves and other such criminals. Not lords and knights who were loyal to their king. Especially a Lord Paramount whose only crime was simply taking what was his by right.
No matter what they said with their lies and tricks, the facts remained the same. His lands, titles and keep were his by right no matter what his fool of a father believed. No one had any right to take them from him. The Gods proved that by killing him and allowing the evidence to be destroyed. They even made it so his father's journal would go missing.
But he needed time to gather his strength and his wit. These last days had been exhausting and he hadn't been able to think straight for a while, the proof being how he rattled himself out twice without realizing it. Time was of the essence and he needed to stay alive to find a plan that would allow him to get back at those who had wronged him.
"I thank you for your leniency, Your Grace," he said through gritted teeth.
"If you think this is leniency, or that you'll find a happy ending to your story, then you are sorely mistaken. Mark my words, Edmure Tully. What you'll find at the Wall will be worse than death and you'll be begging for it before the end of the year."
Edmure had felt a lot of emotions lately. Anger, resentment, despair, hatred, confusion, shame… But Jaehaerys Targaryen last's words and his dark smile unsettled him and filled him with dread like never before.
What will happen to me?
Notes:
There's still a bit of his story to be told, and hopefully we'll be able to publish the epilogue of Edmure Tully alias Ser Faintheart next week!
I am sorry for last week's absence of chapter. As Arrow has said in replies to some comments there has been a wedding in my family (thankfully not a Red one, even though we feared it for some time, long story!) and we've been pretty busy in the meantime. Hopefully we'll get back on track even though I'm still at my parents' house until the end of August.
We wish you all a nice weekend!
Quick message to J : sorry I haven't been able to answer you last time.
Goodson is meant for both son in law and stepson in a Song of Ice and Fire. Every relationship made by marriage is preceded by good in the books, so Ashara is Joy's goodmother and Cregan is Gerion's goodson.
Ser Desmond is not a old man. He's about 7 years older than Catelyn. Utherydes was the one who was around Hoster's age.
As for your suggestion, it is indeed a good one!