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 LX…

En route to the Midlands of Westeros…

The party led by the Lord Hand Addams now paused for the evening's camping, just at the edge of a promising coal deposit.

My promising coal deposit…Middlefinger, watching his palatial tent being set up by his attendants, complete with the latest in latrine technology, gold-plated of course, thought darkly…

"Belloq, old man…" Gomez had come from his own tent set up to join him, several guards about him. "That's quite a tent palace you've got going up."

"Gomez!" Call from his tent by Morticia, head emerging from tent fold… "Don't be too long, dear. Good evening, my Lord Belloq. Dear, don't forget your Hand badge. Thing?"

A box held by attendant next to Addams opening…Thing hand emerging bearing badge which Gomez took. "Thank you, Thing." As Thing made "ok" symbol and closed box.

"The necessities required by my duties as Minister of the Coin, your Grace." Middlefinger noted.

Must get myself one of those "Things" sometime…

"And of course to provide a place for my people to rehearse…"

"Rehearse?" Gomez, eagerly, as he fastened badge on cloak. "Should I assume some wonderful new production is about to spring from the fertile artistic mind of Petyr Belloq? Tell me more."

My Gods…Belloq stared. It is nice to be appreciated for my talent.

Pity he must die before he can evaluate the coal resources, return to the capital, and begin probing as to whom is the mysterious figure buying up the lands under which those resources lie.

But surely there's a window for him to experience my lastest sure-fire blockbuster in production…

"Ooops…Did I?" he paused, looking about.

"Did you what, old man?" Gomez, smiling.

"Nothing…I've a tendency to speak my thoughts aloud. Speeds the plot but leads to certain embarrassing situations."

"Well, I heard nothing except some vague mumbling." Gomez noted. "Well, we should begin our assessment of the potential for coal in this region. Looks to me as though the place is dripping with black gold."

Coal, he explained to Middlefinger's puzzled and somewhat greed-streaked stare…Black gold?

Oh, right…Well, it is a kind of black gold. Though I prefer to think of it as the source of ultimate power. Power that will change our world forever and leave a poor boy, the sharpest one in the pack, mind you…

(Oh, please…Verysmuch shakes head in his study…)

"Well, yes…" Gomez nodded. "It will change our world forever…But Rob B was never that impoverished. And 'sharpest mind in the pack', with all due respect to Rob's clever when not clouded by overdrink and orgy mind, is a bit much."

Damn…Did it again. Oh, well…It slipped by, no biggee.

Wait…

Robert Bartheron? The "sharpest…"?

Sigh…I can hear the Little Council's howl if that got out.

Though the Queen would be pleased, if it came from Lord Gomez…Perhaps by ravenpost before he croaks untimely?

"Uh, well, His Highness' House was rather back in the pack. It was a noble climb he made to prominence." Middlefinger, careful nod. "And you, my Lord…With, I trust, the help of the King's humble servants like me…Will make House Barthreon master of the world, founder of a new and even more universal Valyria."

"Hmnn…" Gomez pondered. "Hadn't thought of it in such global terms. Still, control of coal probably will one day help in world unification. In a peacefully unifying future mixed in with the necessary brutal conquest phase, granted our pseudo-medieval era, of course. Certainly all forms of transportation will see enormous improvements. Which likely could result in enhanced agriculture and trade, greater social mobility, new and undreamed economic development paths…"

"Tis a path to a bright and sunny future…Following said natural period of brutal medieval conquest." Middlefinger nodded with dignity.

My bright and sunny future…Sans Addams, sans Barthreon, sans Stark (well, love to keep Sansa around), sans (sorry if I can't keep ya, kid) Targaryen, and above all, sans that damned Ophelia Arryn…My blushing with lust bride to be…

"If we can get round the one major drawback to coal." Gomez sighed. "Tis rather messy stuff…And that mess does seem to pose some health risks as well as ruining one's fine linens…"

"I'm sure your genius will soon find a way round that, my Lord." Winning smile.

"Some bright fellow will, I'm sure, Lord Belloq. We'll set some of the bright young folks at the great Citadel School to it on our return. But, come on man, tell me of this wonderful new production of yours…? Another chapter of 'Game of Thrones' perhaps… "

"Well…" Middlefinger shrugged. "I would like to continue the saga till it's rightful end…But no, this is more of a dark comedy about seven people stranded on an island in the Valyrian Sea after a storm. All things they endure and must do to survive. I call it 'Wrecked and Lost on Gilligan's Isle'. It should have everything…Wrong, betrayal, violence, inappropriate romance…A beautiful actress gets hit on the head and comes to love the gawky hero till she gets hit again and it keeps happening, driving the poor kid crazy…True romance…The good-hearted serving wench loves the hero…Bizarre romance…A gorilla falls in love with the hero. There may be a touch of cannibalism to keep it real."

"Sounds delightful, old man. I'm eager to see it, put us down for ten seats. Well, things look secure and I must be off to bed and a long night's fornication with the Missus A fine evening and good night to you, my Lord." Friendly wave.

"And you, my Lord…My best to your good Lady." Belloq nodded.

Nice guy, really…If a bit crazy. Almost a shame I can't afford to keep him on in some capacity but he's far too Starkish to accept my regime after I depose and murder…Or, murder and depose his best friend…He looked after the departing Lord Addams.

Not a bad idea about finding a way to make coal a bit cleaner, the stuff does get into everything. Hafta to look to that on…My…Return.

Might be a nice way to memorialize the fellow here. And deflect some of the suspicion likely to fall about all in this party.

Yes, the Addams process for the reduction of coal wastage…Discovered by team Belloq, generously named in the name of the late Lord Hand Addams by his friend and colleague, Lord Belloq… The next Hand of Westeros and eventually, King-Emperor.

One can afford to be generous to a brilliant and capable, if clueless, foe, after all.

Heck I suggested the Edduard Stark Fund for Northern Development.

To be chaired by…Oh…

Cat…

("There, there…" Verysmuch, in office, shaking head. "Time heals all, you know.")

Casterly Rock…

Council Chamber of the Lannister Empire…The round table center of the Lannister universe…

Penetrated now by a phantom menace…During discussion of that menace…And of the amazing new resource which threatened to upset the balance of power in Westeros and the world…

But no dull trade talks…That's handled by the junior staff, presided over by Lord Bings, surnamed Jar-Jaring for his annoying and pointless volubility.

Just the man to handle such things. Bores them to death and after a couple of hours, they'll sign anything, Tywin had previously noted to Tywina.

A grim Lord Tywin presiding over the extended-by-assassination meeting of his bannerpeople, key family members in nepotic positions, and those enemies with common interests best to keep close…

Several members a bit more perturbed by the delayed lunch than the death of the victim, the largely unlamented Lord Supercillious…

Though one supposes his cousin, Lord Bings, might be cast a bit down by losing his cuz in such manner…Tywin thought.

On the other hand, Lord Bings being the sole heir of the family…Mesa say I smell a brace of traitors in our ranks.

"Looks like poison from the mottling on his face…" Lady Oleanna, examining body with two attendants, one reluctantly holding upper lip back to reveal open mouth. Oleanna eyeing tongue, then gums.

"Not that I'm any sort of expert on poisons, of course…" innocent look to the group. "But I'd recommend his glass of wine be tested. And perhaps that filthy sleeve he kept wiping nose on."

Several at the table eyeing their wine glasses ruefully…

What a crime if true…

...I mean to do that to such an excellent vintage of Lannister cabernet…The 277, a wonderful year.

"I agree. Have the body removed and tested and all the glasses as well. And that filthy sleeve." Tywin instructed the attendants by the body.

"The question being…Gods, that's better…My spreading ass needs a nesting spot." Oleanna resuming her seat, spreading robes… "Why would anyone want to kill a fool like Supercillous. I mean besides just about everyone who's ever met him and his greedy family? And more importantly, why take such a risk here and not kill you, Tywin, or someone of middling importance at least."

Nice hat thing, Oleanna's got there…Lady Alica noted, trying to look concerned. Gotta ask her where she picked it up at lunch after we finally send off yon turdy fellow to his grave. I'd bet I could carry it off even better.

"Right after he referred to the Phantom Meance…" Tywin pondered. "Besides I have everything tasted and run through a toxicology screening. So'right, cousin Edgar? No aftereffects this time?"

"Eh?…No, m'lord. Hic…" cousin Edgar, a somewhat deformed by previous exposures to poisoning attempts on his cousin since childhood, from his taster's corner, noted.

"Phantom Menace? That bad play of Middlefinger's?" Oleanna stared.

"And the current plot against the kingdom and us all…" Tywin nodded. "It's as if someone meant to send us a message, considering Supercillous' lack of importance, hardly a waste."

"A truer waste of space than my own son…" Oleanna nodded. "But he did control the most strategic lands of House Bings, along with most of the family fortune." She eyed Tywin shrewdly.

"I'd guess a bit of both…" he nodded…Equally shrewdly.

What? The other Lords and their various minions eyed each other…

What about…Lunch?…Lady Alica…

That's why I sit at the center of this table and why Lady Oleanna's the only one of you I can talk to, unless Maudie Addams shows, Tywin sighed.

"Call Lord Bings to us…" he turned to an attendant. "He's not to be informed of his cousin's untimely demise at this time."

"Aye, my Lord. It may take a moment to stop his talking…"

"Just tell him Lord Tywin has something to tell him, possibly to his benefit." nod from the attendant, as Nod the attendant hurried off.

"To his benefit?" Lady Oleanna eyed Tywin.

"For about five minutes…"

"This ought to be interesting…If I can bear five minutes of his Jar-Jaring…" Oleanna, wry smile to Tywin.

"You have any idea what they're talking about…?" Porthrightly hissed to Tywina, seated behind him. The other lords trying to look as if they knew something…Tywin rolling eyes at the lot while talking to Oleanna.

"Lord Bings benefits, Lord Supercillous was too unimportant to kill except as a message…Likely both traitors, Bings' only too happy to bump off his cousin as a fringe benefit of treason. Lady Oleanna expects Lord Bings won't last under torture and may give us something." Tywina whispered, deft smile.

"Really?" Porthrightly blinked.

These Lannisters…It may have skipped a generation in Jaime, though not that clever Tyrion, but Gods, they are sharp.

"You know…" he began.

"No, I'm not interested in your grandson, he likes hunting, jousts, his own reflection, and hates books and thought too much, but if Uncle approves, yes, I'll marry you." She nodded, eyeing his startled look and rapidly continuing... "Your House is strategically important and your bannermen constitute a sizable army plus, despite being a little behind the times you've run your finances well, though you need a clever partner to expand your horizons and seize new opportunities. You have a sense of humor and some interest in learning underneath your efforts to be a proper Lord, given you weren't born to the purple but won it on the field, which I admire…Your son is dead so our children would inherit, which will be fine by you as you don't care for your grandson either, though we'll give him enough to keep him contently jousting and hunting . You have a record of being a kind husband and you appeal to both my need for a kindly paternal type and my maternal side as you need someone to take care of you plus you're still pretty good in bed." Smile to his stare.

"Plus I think I can get you out on the ski slopes and once you lose a little weight from the exercise, you'll be quite the middle-aged stud." She nodded, appreciatively. "As for me, well…I'm my uncle's favorite niece, brilliant and well-educated, pretty lithe and surprisingly athletic despite my fondness for study…A good conversationalist when I get going and without my glasses and in a nice gown, quite hot. I like kids, though lets keep it to three, to keep my figure and life expectancy up. Deal, pending Uncle's approval which I believe he'll gladly give, as he wants me with someone kind, powerfully able, and reasonably independent whom I can help keep within the Lannister fold?"

Uh…Porthrightly blinked.

"Me Lord…" Lord Bings, a tall, spindly type with nervous eyes and large somewhat floppy ears protruding from a balding head. "I is told you wishes to see me? The trade negotiations goes well, the resin manufactory duties…"

"Yes, yes, Bings…" Tywin raised hand. God the man sure looks like one you'd suspect to be a traitor…Shifty eyes, nervous manner. "But we have other concerns just now…"

"You may have noticed your cousin Supercillous is on the floor…" Oleanna noted.

"Yousa say? No…Oh…" he looked at Supercillous' corpse, then looking nervously about the chamber… "Oh, mesa say is great crime…Who is culprit in foul murder of my kindred. Oh, woe is our family, mesa say. Supercillous dead he is? Must avenge mesa say. My Lord, mesa kindred's soul cries for vengeance." shakes head, offering sort of annoyed look.

No, not Valyrian, he was dropped on his head as a child…One Lord noted to his questioning companion.

"Who said he was dead, Bings?" Tywin, shrewdly.

Oh, you…Oleanna shook head, grinning as Supercillous sat up, eyeing Bings who blanched.