Game of Thrones Tales: Lannister Family Values

Summary: In an alternative universe, King Robert calls on a different old friend and brother to assist him. But whose decency, kindness, and sense of honor, while a bit different from Ned Stark's are equally strong. But are the family values of House Addams a match for the ruthless Lannisters?

Part LIV…

Storming Out…The most noble and ancient if dour and uncomfortably wretched seat of the Barftheron clan…Ranking only after the Tin Islands and the Swampflood holding as "most wretched place to live in Westeros". Though the place does boast magnificent mist-shrouded, rocky cliff seacoast views. Even Robert Barftheron in his youth despite a total lack of appreciation of the arts having been moved to sketch a few views when not engaged in brutal training, the delights of bloody combat, orgies, or then mooning over Cicely Addams.

An annoyed Stanislaw at his stone slab desk having received the grim confirmation that a complete peace had indeed been made between the Lannister and Addams-Tully/Cicero forces, with said armies parting with good fellowship and firm pledges of support for the Crown, once again rather po'd with his High Priestess.

Though, as he coldly noted, given her remarkable pulling off of a previous political rabbit from the hat of disaster, he was willing for now to bide his time as she was urgently recommending.

"The Light Lord works in mysterious ways, Lord Stanislaw." She noted, a bit anxious…And not a bit miffed herself.

Really jerkin' me around here, LL…

"Very mysterious…" Stanislaw agreed. "Has my brother Rently learned of this news, you think?"

"Tis most likely, Lord Stanislaw." His top (secular) advisor and Commander of the Bartheron Fleet, Davos Seaworthy nodded.

"This visit of his is rather suspicious my Lord." Melissande noted quietly… "He clearly hopes to undermine you in the potential succession."

"The key word, girl… 'potential'…" Stanislaw glared. "Rob's not only reconciled with his Lannister queen but he's said to be in the best shape he's been in for years, even cut down on the drinking, I hear…And out of concern as much for Cersei's health, if one can believe it. And worst of all, Prince Joffrey, my bastard Caligula of a 'nephew', is out and Tommen, whom even I kinda like, in, to universal acclaim. After the appointment of Lord Addams as Hand, has to be the most sensible decision Bob's made since taking the throne. Between that and the early reforms of the new Hand, he's never been so popular." Dour look…

"Or, as Rob suggests I do, in his latest raven post to tell me…i.e, rub in my face…About the succession change…

Huzzah, Prince Tommen." Icy tone.

Girl, again…Melissande sighed inwardly…

Still, she has come through in the past…He eyed her stricken face…And one should be careful in dealing with powerful emissaries of the supernatural...

Until we prove them otherwise, he eyed Davos. Who actually seemed a bit sympathetic to the girl's plight.

Politics being a chancey game, and toss in religion? Oooh…Makes commanding a pirate vessel with stereotypically murderously violent crew look like a cakewalk.

Though a somewhat reserved sympathy, there still being the charred bones of a hundred "heretics" and "unbelievers", a troubling number under age fifteen, still decorating the main street along the sea side docks…

"Well, we'll see what develops. For now, I need to know exactly what my dear little brother is up to with this sudden visit of his. A longing to see the old rocks of home not really convincing…" Stanislaw frowned.

A knock…

"Yes?!" Stanislaw called, a bit annoyed.

This had better not be news of a royal procession home by the happy couple…

"My Lord…" nervous bow of messenger.

"And who are…?" Stanislaw began…Staring at the nervous boy on knee before his desk.

Really ought to get someone as capable as that Anna Brienne for my guard, my security may be guaranteed by the latest version of the Almighty here…Frown at Melissande…But on the human level it leaks like a sieve…

"One of mine, Lord Stanislaw…" Melissande stepped forward. "Hector?"

Hmmn…Stanislaw eyeing the young messenger who handed a note to Melissande and bowing to Stanislaw, then Davos…Clearly uncertain as to hierarchy here…Left hurriedly at her urging…

One might wonder what a high priestess needs an intel network for…?

Phew…She audibly whistled. Praise be to Jes…You, LL, Melissande thought, clasping note.

"Good news?" Davos asked. Stanislaw regarding her coolly.

"I suspect it is, my Lord Admiral…For Lord Rently…" she noted.

"For Rent? Why?" Stanislaw, colder yet.

"And for you, Lord…" she added hastily. "I mean in terms of securing advanced knowledge…"

Is she being coy with me? I hate coy…Stanislaw frowned.

"Lady…" Davos urged quietly. That wistful, winsome stuff really doesn't work when you've been wading in the blood of thousands of innocents…

"I have intelligence of an impending marriage alliance of your brother with Houses Boleyn and Markwell, my Lord." She bowed, stepping to desk and offering the note to Stanislaw who took it, scanning it quickly.

"Intelligence, how, Lady?" Davos eyed her as she stepped back.

"Boleyn…" Stanislaw looked up, a grim look. "I thought he was one of yours, girl. What's he about, marrying off a daughter…Poor girl…To my feckless brother? And why here, away from the capital without any ceremony?"

"Therein the answer to Lord Seaworthy's question, my Lord." She noted. "Ser Thomas was one of my early followers but he broke from the True Faith...Protesting deviant faction, my Lord."

"What?" Davos blinked. "Your bizarre Faith is a few months ago and you have factions already?"

"The Boleynist deviation will be crushed, soon, Lord Davos." She insisted. "But fortunately I had followers among his people and they keep me informed. My Lord, you can see the danger inherent here if these Houses ally with your brother. And the opportunity such secretiveness as displayed might offer…?" shrewd look at end.

"Not exactly…'Supernatural' intel…But I'll take it." Stanislaw noted. "And I do…"

"This match must be prevented." Melissande noted.

"Eh…I can't believe Rent would have the guts to do it without Rob's approval. Bringing two of the most prominent houses together with a son of ours? Great, with kingly approbation…Without? I wouldn't give Rent odds for living a week. He must have gotten Rob's permission…And if he did…" sigh.

"But, my Lord…" she tried. Davos watching calmly.

Methinks I sees the tragic end of a short-lived religious sect approaching…

"If Rob's arranged this and I oppose it, he'll march tomorrow with the Addamses and Starks in support and half my men and vassals will throw in the towel as pledged to House B's leader, namely Rob. Plus I'd have the Markwells joining in and Boleyn while not much militarily, would work his diplomatic magic to bring in still more." He frowned.

"But if King Robert hasn't sanctioned the match…And my Lady is right to question this secrecy…" Davos noted.

Melissande eagerly taking the ball and running…

"I believe it's very like he has not, Lord Stanislaw. This is his play to position himself…"

"Rently? You mean, as in, position himself in front of my brother's sword?" Stanislaw, cold regard.

"King Robert's very fond of Prince Rently…And he has mellowed a bit." Melissande tried.

"Not that much on either count…" Stanislaw… "Not to mention Cersei couldn't care for the idea of Rently bringing a family nearly as powerful as her own into the mix under his control. Only Rob's direct order could shut her up about that…" grim frown, rising… "It must be a ploy to keep it secret from the Lannisters."

Uh-oh…Melissande thought. This defeatist air does not bode well for the spread of a religion requiring fanatical support…

The Game is a cruel sport, Lady…Davos noted to himself…

Stanislaw shaking head…Sighing at last. "It's over…If Rently's got the Markwells and Boleyns with Robert's blessing, he's the succession back up should Tommen meet with a tragic fate, namely Joffrey…" Downcast look.

"Thanks for trying to cheer me…" shrug, to their rather surprised looks.

Really? I'm thinking far more in terms of simple survival but…Melissande thought.

"Take heart, my Lord." Davos interjected. "You've an honorable position in House Barftheron and you are the elder heir. Alls not lost, even if King Rob did approve this match in secret."

"Rob always did like Rently better whenever he came out of his usual drunken stupor long enough to express any feeling for either of us…" Stanislaw, downcast. "Well, it's his kingdom, what you gonna do? The Seven have their ways…"

The…Seven…? Melissande gulped. Davos, satisfied look.

At last, the spell is broken…

"My Lord, I truly believe Lord Rently gambled that King Robert would accept the match as politically useful." Melissande tried again. And Lord Lannister is sure to be upset…"

"I'll see you get out of here safely, Melissande." Stanislaw sighed again. "I owe you that much. Davos…Can you arrange a boat?"

"Certainly, Lord…" pleased nod.

No need to be vindictive toward the girl, get her safely out before the people and the nobles she's fleeced realize anything…The honorable thing to do, given he'd acquiesced in the burnings and other horrors, Davos nodded thoughtfully.

"Please, my Lord…!" Melissande, despairingly. "You can't abandon your Destiny like this…"

"Young lady, it's over…" Stanislaw shook head. "I do think you should speak to my wife before you go…Explain that she might be better off reconsidering this conversion thing or at least keep her faith secret in future…"

"But if Lord Rently has defied King Robert…" she tried again.

"In his current state, Rob'll probably forgive and forget and take the new alliance as his own…"

"Queen Cersei and Tywin Lannister won't, my Lord." She noted.

"Maybe…But Cersei's acting so strange these days she might agree Rob ought to have an extra spoke in his wheel to keep him less dependent on one House…And Lannister might even see this as stabilizing things and taking some of the financial load off him."

Jes..Light Lord, it's that famed Barftheron depression kicking in… God, no offense but bit of a wuss hero here. You don't become King of all if you collapse at every setback… Where would I be if I just gave up after that gang rape and all my love dreams being shattered…And my family handing me over to slavers to prostitute me when I came back, dishonored even for a peasant family.

"Lord, Lady Melissande may have a point." Davos,likewise a bit troubled at his friend and lord's abject dejection… "If Prince Rently is acting on his own, it could lead to a new situation. You should stand ready to make the most of any new opportunity, in me humble."

"Yeah, yeah…Sure, sure…" Stanislaw shrugged, waving hand. "So I'm Sextus Pompey of old Valyria, trying to get into power sideways while the big boys Antony and Octavian Valerius shove me around before duking it out with each other and like him, I've missed my one chance? Lovely."

"At least let me see if I can learn more, Lord Stanislaw. This is likely merely a test of your spirit…" Melissande urged.

A test you seem to be utterly failing…She thought. I see a bit of your younger brother in you as well as Robert.

"Well…" Stanislaw pondered. "I suppose we have gambled a good deal on all this…Alienating my people and leaving us vulnerable to massive revolt, with all that burning…"

"Which will lead to a glorious result…Which all will rejoice in when you are King, Lord." Melissande, anxiously trying to deflect from regretful second thoughts in that direction…

"It can't hurt to learn what's what here…" Davos noted.

Hmmn… "Well, see what you can learn, Lady. And you, Seaworthy…"

Oh, my hero the sailin' man…Melissande sighed inwardly. But shoot, now I suppose I've gotta spare your wife out of gratitude for your support here, she eyed him shyly.

Unless of course this all means…He likes me…She beamed.

"Of course, me Lord." Seaworthy nodded. "Though me approach tends to forthrightly askin'."

"With Rent, that might work. He's always admired you." Stanislaw noted.

"I'll handle the more…Covert…Methods, my Lord." Melissande smiled.

"Really…Your Light Lord sanctions such things?" Davos, frowning at her.

Killing this special mo, ruggedly devastating sailin' guy…She frowned back.

"Whatever must be done for the greater Good, my Lord Seaworthy. Speaking of which, my Lord. It might be time to deal with Lord Rently more permanently, given he seems so determined to challenge you for your place in the succession."

"'More permanently'…" Davos, sterner frown. "My Lord?" Stanislaw frowning as well…

What? Melissande stared. Burning innocent working folk, peasants, and a few minor nobles is just fine but touch the royals and die?

"I was being oblique. Offering plausible deniability here, Lord Stanislaw." Melissande frowned. "Heck, he's probably plotting to do you in, if we must be blunt about these things."

"'Most permanently' sounds blunt to me, me Lord. This is your brother, of royal blood, your Priestess is threatening." Davos pointed out.

"Whoa, I never said…" she tried.

"Enough." Stanislaw rose, stern glance at both. "Rently's my brother, remember that. I'll do what must be done but only if he threatens me. Just get me the intel on this marriage alliance…And if Rob knows about it. That's all, for now. Get me, girl?" he glared.

And it's back to girl, again…She sighed.

"Yes, Lord." She bowed.

"Davos, same for you. Find out what you can, forthrightly or no. But try not to give away the game in doing so, right?" firm look.

"Aye, Lord."

He waved them out and the two left…

"I suppose I should thank you for your support there, Lord Seaworthy." Melissande tried as they walked in the outer hall.

"No need. It was for Lord Stanislaw, not you, Lady." Davos noted. "And I should warn you…My Lord's given his order. Any harm comes to Prince Rently now…"

"I was only speaking figuratively, my Lord. Permanently out of the succession…" she insisted.

"Did not sound that way to me, Lady. Just watch yourself for your own sake. My Lord seems a bit less enthralled with you."

"You might watch yourself, Lord Davos." She glared. "I don't take well to threats either."

"Strange way your Faith has of proclaiming 'God is Love' while condoning murder and mass murder…" he eyed her. "I know…" he rolled eyes. "The 'greater Good'…It's always for the 'greater Good'."

Lord Jes…Light Lord…She thought, watching him as he left her at the palace door, her attendants coming to her. I know I'll probably have to have him killed sooner or later but that damned forthright courage just brings me to my knees…

Every time with him it's like my Tyrion suddenly got artificial legs raisin' him a couple of feet.

Not that that height thing ever made any difference to me, sweetheart…She thought, fondly.

…..

On the road forking to Winterfalls and Swampflood…Where Greatjerk had ordered a brief pause on seeing a number of his men about to collapse from exhaustion…

"Kid…My Lord…" Lorne sighed as Dagwood's anxious look urged a modicum of respect… "We have thirty men left…3…0." He made a small circle with hands. "The combined Stark and Addams forces, even minus the Tullys, have at least 40,000. 40 times 1000." He made wide expanse of hands. "And the Lannisters' 50000 might well come to join them for the sake of the new peace and their former pledges…"

"Tis most like." Dagwood nodded. "Lord Tywin always goes the limit in keeping a pledge. And he's fond, tis' known, of Lady Maud."

"So…90000, my Lord…" Lorne eyed Fearing. "They won't defeat or overwhelm us, they'll laugh at us. We'll be marched in dresses before every village roundabouts, just as your father was after Ned Stark beat him. And he had…My Lord?"

"10000 men…" Fearing, looking away. "Still, I can send ravens once we's secured Winterfalls by deceit and trickery, Dad'll send…"

"Lord Fearing. Even if your father could get them to us in time, the maximum he could send…Our whole current army…Is about 4,800. I handle logistics back home, I know the totals." Loren noted. "And he'd never risk anything like the whole army, such as our collection of dregs is…We won't see a single extra man, your father will simply insist to Lord Stark and the King that you went off on some sort of psychotic goose chase, a consequence of being a hostage so long and trying to regain a place for yourself in the world."

Cutting close, Lorne…Dagwood, Fearing winced.

"Lady Maud will use us to train a few novices while her army hoots at us…Then she'll wade in our blood for old times' sake and sew us all together, living and dead into a giant ball for shipping home."

"I remember when she did that with the remnant of the Targaryen army after the Quadrant battle…" Dagwood nodded.

"And if she should leave us to your ole ex-brother, Lord Robbed, he'll no doubt be very downcast and sorrowful as he has our heads and testicles chopped off as rebels, but given your action against him, he have no choice by that damned Stark honor."

"True, Robbed would have to follow Dad Stark's code but…" Fearing tried.

"We have two strategic options, my Lord." Lorne shook head. "Flee for the coast, keeping Lord Pugsley as a hostage and sending Ser Arnold to demand they spare us till we can find or steal a ship home or…Surrender at once, now, before any more harm's done, and pray someone might be merciful."

Sure they will, he thought. If we hand the sniveling traitorous twit over immediately and explain we were only following orders…

"Well, those are options…" Fearing shrugged. "Or we could make a desperate stand against impossible odds and prove that the men of the Tin Islands die merrily, die well…Die with honor…Die with….."

"The key word, my Lord is..Die…"

"Every man dies, Commander…" Fearing noted, stepping over to stand on rock to face his weary, exhausted rabble of a force, Lord Pugsley being pulled along in a battered cart by four very weary fellows, including Ser Arnold, with three more watching the knight. "Lads, today or tomorrow we die, but our deeds will be remembered, until the last syllable of recorded time." Raising arms and looking heavenward as the men gazed… "We few, we happy few, we…Lads?!" he eyed the emptiness…

"Lads?..." dejectedly staring about him.

"Hated to leave in mid-speech like that but there be far too much Stark about the boy…" Dagwood sighed to Lorne as they headed off with the twenty-five, minus the three saps stuck pulling Pugsley's cart, making eagerly for the coast.

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