All trademarked items in this fanfiction is owned by their respective copyright holders (A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin, Aoki Hagane no Arpeggio by Ark Performance, etc). The ones owned by me are past and future OCs, plot, and author's thoughts. This fanfiction is made solely for entertainment purposes and not intended for any material gain.
A March of The Meek and Landless
Act 2: A Cause Worth Fighting
Chapter 10
"Are you sure that this is the way, Ser Kirino?" Renly asked for the third time that night. The lightless depths of the Red Keep's secret passages were only lit with dim torches in the front and back of the small retinue.
"Do not ask me," Arys Oakheart replied as Mandon Moore shrugged. They were clutching their long knives tucked under the belt, their customary armor and sword packed away and carried by squires.
"My house had mapped the passages extensively, Lord Baratheon," Yahagi assured the nervous lord. "You need not worry so much…"
"Ah, right on schedule," a not-quite-male voice sounded from the gloom ahead.
"Varys," Yahagi hissed.
"It is I, aye," Varys replied with an airy tone. "A bit late for a stroll, don't you think?"
"Back off, Varys. We are leaving this madness behind," Renly blustered. "Turn away and all of us will live to see the sunrise."
"I am afraid that I cannot do that, good sers," Varys tittered. "You are very valuable counNNGGGHHRRRKKK—"
"Probably stalling for pursuers, which means our decoys are probably already compromised. He will be fine in a few hours. Probably," Yahagi said to Renly's disbelieving stare. Within that instant, Varys had been turned into a limp, twitching mass slumped against the wall. No one was sure what had happened. "Let us move quickly, gentlemen. I am deploying shields so keep close."
"Right… right," Renly grunted as they filed past the unconscious Varys.
…
"Lord Lannister? Wake up Lord," Loghas called, shaking Tyrion's shoulder. "You are called for urgent meeting, Lord."
"An urgent meeting?" Tyrion replied, rubbing the sleep out of his bleary eyes.
"Yes Lord," Loghas said. "Lady K'soomy told me so. She just left to inform others."
"That is quite odd. Help me dress Loghas," Tyrion said after stretching. "Where would this meeting take place?"
"Main meeting room Lord," Loghas said after laying out a spread of fresh clothes. "Which jacket?"
"Whichever is fine," Tyrion grunted after finishing up his buttons. "Bring me my notebook and writing implements."
"Yes Lord," Loghas agreed and went to find the bag containing said tools.
The duo quickly departed their housing, accompanied by a westermen guard. After walking their way to the barely active main palace, they finally arrived at the main meeting room.
"Morning Ser Tarth," Tyrion greeted as he sat beside the drowsy-looking Brienne. "Rough night?"
"Somebody saw it fit to make some ruckus in the north gate… probably old archon loyalists," Brienne groaned while rubbing her face. "Led us on a merry chase. Threw him in the brig right quick before I crashed. Slept maybe forty winks before Sensei woke me up."
"Drinks and some food," Shiomaru said as she set a plate of stackbread and a glass of hot brew before the two seated people. "Helps you wake. Hold fast in there Brie."
"Oh you are sent by The Mother herself Shiomaru-san…" Brienne said after a sip of the concoction.
"How about you, Lord Lannister? Slept well?" Shiomaru turned to Tyrion.
"Well my chamberpot is full of piss as always, but I have followed your teachings ardently," Tyrion quipped. "Any idea what this is about, Lady Maru?"
"I have an inkling," Shiomaru said as more people filed into the former main assembly room of the Tyroshi Council. "Could be that , could be a Myrish fleet anchored just under the horizon. We shall see… well, I have to run. More food and drink to serve and all that."
"Thank you again!" Tyrion said before digging into his food. "Mmh, oh, that is just sublime… Now if I can get her to add chopped bacon burnt black, this would be perfect…"
Notable commanders and men continued to file into the room. Tyrion noted a general mood of irritation and weariness, mostly because the ruling business would not usually start until midmorning.
"Wait, is that not…?" Brienne exclaimed in an incredulous tone, a sentiment mirrored by some of the commanders. Yamato walked into the room when it's almost full to capacity. Behind her, Robert hobbled in with Stannis and Barristan on his side, and behind them Renly brought the rear of the group with Yahagi and Arys.
"Unless that is some magical chicanery, those are undoubtedly Renly Baratheon and Arys Oakheart, alongside good Ser Soddart Hill," Tyrion added his observation. "What are they doing here?"
The chatter in the room died down as Yamato gave three hearty knocks on the high table with a gavel.
"You may continue eating gentlemen, but pay attention to what will be said," Yamato exclaimed, her voice having a resolute quality to it. "Late last night, Ser Yahagi Kirino and her ship arrived directly from King's Landing. With her was her page Graeme Crakehall, Lord Renly Baratheon, Ser Arys Oakheart, and a handful of their retainers. Lord Renly, your report if you will."
A pregnant pause settled as Renly took his place on the speaker's podium. The crowd waited with a metaphorical bated breath.
"Thank you," Renly stepped up to the speaker's podium and started his speech. "Commanders of the Royal Expeditionary Force, I bring dire news. As of five days ago, Queen Cersei has announced the death of King Robert Baratheon and declared the ascendancy of Joffrey Baratheon to the Iron Throne. You, the Royal Expeditionary Force, are accused of regicide and treason, thus branded enemies of The Iron Throne."
The room descended into bedlam after Renly's statement. Tyrion sensed a general sense of disbelief and indignation among the commanders in the room. Brienne's hand is balled into a tight fist, whatever drowsiness in her now forgotten.
"Order in the court!" a single bellow from Robert hushed the room. "So… my so-called queen has shown us her treacherous ways. But it is not her only treason… no, not by a mile. Stannis, tell them."
"The princes and princess Queen Cersei has sired were not of our king's get," Stannis said as he took the speaker's podium, a sheaf of papers before him. "The historical records said that out of two recorded marriages between Baratheons and Lannisters, their children had an overwhelming tendency to exhibit two traits."
"Black of hair, blue of eyes," Brienne whispered as Stannis went on at the podium. She turned to Tyrion and found him massaging his eyes. "I… I am sorry for the misfortune of your house, Lord Tyrion."
"We saw this coming," Tyrion acknowledged in a quiet tone. "But it did little to blunt my exasperation. Thank you Ser Tarth."
"Thus, I say with the utmost confidence that the queen has committed adultery and line theft against the royal line," Stannis closed his statement. "Joffrey Waters is an illegitimate pretender."
"Before anybody here would enact the genius plan of arresting the Lannisters who are here among us," Yamato interjected, taking advantage of the stunned silence. "No, they are not complicit in all this. Neither is Lord Tywin Lannister, who I imagine would be quite horrified by his daughter's… maneuvers."
"And thus I ask of you, my loyal subjects!" Robert said just as the chatter started to pick up again. "Will you stand by my side once more? Will you help me regain my place, my rightful place, on the Iron Throne?"
"Yes, my king!" Brienne exclaimed as she stood up, the first to do so.
"Yes, my king!" Tyrion followed her, standing on the table for emphasis. The rest of the crowd would swiftly follow, with notable exceptions among the Braavosi and Volantene delegates. Not all ex-Tyroshi stood up to pledge their support either, but a sizable part of them still did.
"Very well! And I declare here and now that Lady-Admiral Kirino is now my Hand of The King!" Robert went on. "Those who object, speak now or forever hold your peace!"
Only hot-blooded shouts replied Robert's words, the seeming discrepancy of being led by a woman seemingly forgotten in the heat of the moment.
"Alright people, settle down," Yamato exclaimed after a few heavy thumps of her gavel. "Now that our king has appointed me Hand of The King, let me reveal my plan to rectify this problem. Done well, this plan can retake the Iron Throne with the least amount of bloodshed."
"How in the world will you do that?" Sandor stood up and hollered. "Queen wants blood shed, we drown 'er in all the blood she wants and more!"
"I never said bloodless , Ser Clegane! If we have to spill blood then it will be spilled!" Yamato said after allowing some cheer backing Sandor's proposition. "But we shall not spill it carelessly, for that is what will taint our just cause. Here is my plan..."
…
"Lady Yamato Kirino... a moment while we are here," Robert said after the briefing was done. They had outlined the steps the Royal Expeditionary Force would take in retaking the Iron Throne, and now were in a small lounge being served snacks and refreshments. As for the commanders, they went back to their units to disseminate information.
"Yes my king?" Yamato replied.
"When all this conflict has been sorted and dealt with… will you marry me?" Robert proposed.
"It... would be an honor, My King," Yamato said, a dash of a surprised lilt coloring her voice.
There were wide grins and soft sighs. Arys almost pumped his fist if Mandon had not elbowed his side. Stannis only nodded, having been forewarned. Renly looked a little confused, but Stannis gave him a look that promised later explanation.
"However… First I must address the white moose in the room. You must understand that I am not Lyanna Stark, my king," Yamato said, her hand gesturing to prevent Gerion from calling a toast right there. "Never would have, never could have been. I cannot fill that gaping hole in your heart. Do you speak your proposal sincerely, o king, or is it the love you held for Lyanna who spoke on your behalf?"
"I… I know not," Robert replied to the question, his words not coming out as easily as before. "But I would have wanted to think that it was my sincere wish…"
"I can understand your lingering love for the lady Stark, my King," Yamato explained. "But you allowed it to stay for so long, more than a decade now… it has prevented, and will prevent you from loving anybody else in that way. Not even your friends and family. It becomes a black pit of might-bes and what-ifs that swallows you, never letting you go."
"I… I think I understand," Robert admitted, his words a little less strained.
"However, I also understand that people who are trapped in a pit sometimes cannot pull themselves out of it," Yamato countered. "I am willing to help you overcome your deep dark pit my King, but you must be willing to be led out. You must be able to let go."
"You mean… I must forget Lyanna," Robert challenged. An ember of his house's fury wafted from his words.
"Gods, no," Yamato replied. "Letting go is not forgetting. Letting go means letting go, perhaps… if I might put it into a parable, it means not holding the knife by its blade anymore. You will still have the knife, but it will no longer hurt your hands. You will still have the memory, but it will hurt less and less by the passing of days."
"Then… that is your condition to accept my proposal?" Robert asked, fury forgotten and hope rekindled.
"Indeed, my king," Yamato nodded.
"Very well," Robert replied, a heartiness seeping back in his voice. "I was never shy of challenges, anyway!"
"Do we... still get to toast, at least?" Gerion piped up after a few beats of silence.
"We should!" Robert hollered, ever the life of a party. "Renly, call a toast for this occasion!"
"To moving past deep pits!" Renly replied, carried away by his brother's exuberance.
"Aye!" the men said, lifting their glasses high in the air.
…
"Oh, hello there Jon," Loras said as he found Jon sitting on a bench outside the former Grand Justicar office. "You are summoned too, I see."
"Aye. I know not why, though," Jon replied, shrugging.
"How are things at the Westerlands contingent?" Loras asked as he sat down on the bench.
"Everyone is angered," Jon answered after a sigh. "Never thought that the phrase 'baying for blood' can be so… real."
"Haha, same thing with Samwell," Loras added to the conversation. "Never thought he could get that angry. I suppose even for a man as mild as he is, the Tarly blood runs true in him."
"Oh, you two are here," Shioni poked her head out from the office. "Come on in, Yamato-dono is ready for you."
The two young men entered the office and found the Hand of The King scribbling about on a slate. Her eyes lingered for a second on the device before she set it aside and started to address the young men before her.
"Loras, Jon," Yamato said as she nodded to them. "I am going to entrust an important mission for both of you."
"We are at your disposal my lady," Loras was the first one to respond. Jon simply gave Yamato a look of determination.
"I need you two to travel to your fathers, and convince them to at least not enter the impending conflict between Houses Lannister and Kirino, and The Crown," Yamato started to explain. "As you might have heard, The Crown under Cersei Lannister had declared the king dead… betrayed and murdered by the Royal Expeditionary Forces."
"But… King Robert lives after his ordeal, under your protection here," Jon said in an unsure tone. "Surely someone will dispute her."
"They should, but the world does not know that the king lives. When the world does not know, the world can be deceived with enough smoke and mirrors," Yamato replied.
"Treason…" Loras hissed.
"Yes it is. You, Loras, will go with Shioni to Highgarden and persuade your father. Ser Oakheart might join you until his ancestral home from which he would try and bring his birth-house to the fold," Yamato explained. "It is imperative that you get Lord Tyrell to our side, because The Reach would be key in avoiding large-scale conflict in the kingdom, Loras. They can field enough men to take on two other realms combined, and whoever has its reins can win any war in Westeros. If, however, you cannot gain his support, ask for a promise of neutrality in writing."
"I… understand why the support of my father will be vital, my lady," Loras asked. "But why neutrality?"
"Imagine The Reach as heavy rocks suspended by a single horsehair each over a field of battle… whoever under it will die when it falls, so everybody will want to avoid being under them. Some combatants, faced with such a situation, will probably refrain from entering the field altogether," Yamato launched into another explanation. "Even the mere threat of violence is sometimes enough to deter weaker sides from joining a conflict. The less blood we shed in this conflict, the better."
"I… see," Loras said, visibly trying to parse the information.
"There is a distinct possibility that your father wishes to join the Kirino side after tying House Kirino to House Tyrell, however," Yamato went on. "When that happens, entertain his thoughts and go with the flow. Say to him that I would be open to such an offer, but would like to meet him personally first. Of course, with all this warfare and politics it would not be soon."
"Understood my lady," Loras nodded, resolute.
"As for you, Jon… you and Shiomaru will escort King Robert to Winterfell," Yamato turned to Jon.
"Only the two of us?" Jon asked. "Mayhaps add Ser Selmy or Ser Kirino?"
"I will need Ser Selmy to accompany Lord Stannis and Lord Renly in gathering support from The Stormlands," Yamato answered the question. "The name and reputation of Barristan Selmy holds tremendous weight and we have to capitalize on that. I'll ask Yahagi later."
"I-... I see," Jon replied.
"In my calculations, The North will be the safest place for our king to be with its size and Lord Stark's friendship. You will stay and maybe persuade both to not move until we can at least secure The Reach's neutrality," Yamato said, a smile on her face as she spoke. "Doubt it would be hard though."
"I see… I shall endeavor to do this duty, my lady," Jon responded, a little more resolutely.
"Excellent," Yamato nodded. "You two, be ready to depart at any time. Now to find a way to secure the Riverlands…"
"Lady Catelyn Stark was born a Riverlander, my lady," Jon replied to Yamato's grunt in the end of her sentence. "Perhaps she can persuade her father and brother?"
"A good idea. I shall include that in my letter to Lord Stark," Yamato agreed.
…
I know what you did. You bring shame to House Lannister. Do not expect relief from I, for it is not forthcoming.
"Who does he think he is?" Cersei ranted as she crumpled the raven-message and threw it to the floor."How dare he spurn our plea?"
"Cersei, please," Jaime tried to placate the incensed queen, who was now stepping on the offending missive. "I am sure if we send another message, more strongly worded…"
"It's Tyrion's whore. It has to be the whore," Cersei continued her rant. "If that whore kept whispering to Father's ears, we would never get through to him!"
"I suppose it could be the case, but…" Jaime ventured a guess.
"We should hire a killer," Cersei said, her tone suddenly cold and low.
"Now Cersei, please be reasonable," Jaime replied, a slight exasperation in his voice. "Casterly Rock is nigh impregnable. No cutthroat had ever infiltrated it and made it out alive."
"But Lann The Clever did," Cersei grumbled. "Surely burglars nowadays are much more intelligent than our ancestor…"
"Cersei… you know I love you," Jaime sighed after massaging his eyes. "So let us leave convincing Father for later and focus on strengthening our position here first. Let us make sure we have stronger support from nearby as well."
"You do not understand!" Cersei qgain exploded into a tirade. "He is our father and Joffrey is his king! He should be supportive of our endeavors! He should be groveling at Joffrey's feet begging to be appointed Hand again!"
"You… you are right, of course," Jaime stepped back before changing the subject. "Have we sent any offer for betrothal? It is imperative for Joffrey to wed as soon as possible to strengthen our position."
"Of course," Cersei haughtily answered the question. "I have sent offers to Winterfell, Highgarden, Oldtown… even one to Sunspear."
"Good. I hope Highgarden accepts the offer," Jaime said after a relieved sigh. "They are all strong noble houses but The Reach will be the one we need if we are to flourish."
"I am confident we will get a favorable reply soon," Cersei sniggered. "The Fat Flower is always looking for a way to creep upwards."
"Say… Cersei, what are those?" Jaime said, his eyes on a small purse on a bedside dresser. It was small and looked old, seemingly made from sable fur.
"A servant found it in a nook in the fireplace while cleaning up," Cersei said as she sauntered to the other side of the bed. "Baelish thinks it is some old vintage Braavosi coins. Probably some Targaryen's forgotten coin stash."
"Valar… morghulis?" Jaime said, reading from the face of one of the coins.
"Jaime, I am thirsty," Cersei whined from the bed. "Get me some milk."
"At once Your Grace," Jaime said as he put the coin back into the purse.
A/N: another fairly timely update. Thank you for your support and enjoy!