The Farosi

I own nothing but my OC's

Chapter Six

The Actions of Lieutenant Snow

For nearly three hundred years it had been the dream of everyone in Westeros to make it to the Red Keep, to walk through the halls of power. It was in these halls that the dragon kings plotted and schemed, that Blood and Cheese murdered an innocent child and where his own grandfather had been burned alive. Most never reached these halls, fewer still were able to accomplish anything there, but Jon Snow now walked through those halls and he truly did not want to be there. He was meant to be with his men practicing weapons drill before they would head out of the city on smuggling duties later that afternoon and return in the morning. However, instead Her Highness asked him to accompany her to the Small Council meeting where she would present terms for renegotiating the debts King Robert owed Farsos.

'Is it necessary for me to be here?' he asked her again as he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, mostly to keep it from becoming tangled with his legs.

He was armed of course, he was officially one of Her Highnesses guards that day so he had his sword and revolver. With them also went four of her guards, their black armour over purple coats and rifles in hand, as well as Mister Wrenwood, the elderly representative from the Royal Bank of Farsos.

'Not completely Jon, I just think it would be wise for you to try to get an idea of how politics work, you do aim to have a succesful career don't you?'

'Of course Your Highness but I'm a soldier, I don't want to enter the Senate or anything.'

'Depending on how high you go you will become involved with politicians. How high do you aim to go?'

'General,' he told her. 'I want to command a Corps of my own one day.'

'No doubt you have the talent for it. If you reach the rank of general you'll have to deal with politicians so this will be useful for you.'

'If you say so Your Highness.'

'I do say so,' they said as they entered the throne room, the Small Council chamber was just behind it.

That was when they realised something was wrong, namely the shouting echoing around from the chamber. Jon and Radwen looked at eachother and unconciously he reached for his revolver.

'It sounds like the king,' Radwen said and walked onwards at a slightly faster pace, her companions walking after her into the room where the Small Council was in session, or rsther they sat around the table watching the Hand and the King snap at each other.

'The whore must die Ned!'

'Is there a problem here?' Radwen asked as she walked further into the room.

'Let's see if the foreign girl is smarter than the Warden of the North,' the King declared and turned to face Radwen. 'What do you know of Deanerys Targeryon?'

'That she's the daughter of the Mad King, and she's married to a Khal. What's the matter? Are they planning an invasion?'

'The dragon girl's pregnant.'

'Oh,' said Radwen as she took a spare seat, Jon and her guards standing behind her. 'I hope you plan to keep them under watch.'

'Under watch? I want her dead, I want them all dead, if Stannis wasn't as slow as a lame Ox catching up to them years ago we wouldn't be in this mess. Tell my Hand why the girl needs to die.'

'But you can't kill a pregnant girl,' she protested and Jon was surprised at the high pitch she said it. 'It's utterly beastly, the sort of thing that Mountain fellow would do for fun.'

'The child is a threat to the realm,' Littlefinger said to Radwen in a confident tone. 'It must be dealt with.'

'And what if your assasin fails? You'd just provoke the Khal into war sooner. Death will come to Westeros,' Radwen said and stood up. 'We have the right to help protect the people of this realm but we will never get involved with a war you start.'

'And only a craven would kill an innocent babe,' Ned Stark said with an iron voice and now Jon was worried as the king seemed to turn into a raging monster.

'Careful Ned, you speak to your king. The whore dies.'

'If you allow this then I won't stand with you,' he said and unpinned the badge of a golden hand from his chest and left on the table.

'Then get out of my sight Stark. Run back to Winterfell.'

Without hesitation Jon watched his father stride out of the chamber and the Princess tapped Jon's arm.

'Go with your father, keep him safe.'

'I understand.'

'And don't do anything rash. Corporal,' she said to one of the guards, 'give Mister Snow your rifle and ammunition.'

'Yes Your Highness,' he said and passed Jon the rifle, a larger version of the lever action carbines his troopers used, and undid his webbing, passing it to Jon.

Jon quickly went after his father, catching up with him in the throne room and together they made their way towards the Tower of the Hand. Before they entered it his father stopped and spoke gravely to him.

'Jon, there's more going on than just the trouble with the girl. My wife has kidnapped Tyrion Lannister.'

'What? Does the king know?'

'No but he will soon. War may start between us and the Lannisters and I can't be sure who the king will side with. We need help.'

'From where?'

'The Farosi, they have an army on the Arbor.'

'The 8th Corps?'

For a year, if Jon remembered right, the 8th Corps had been stationed on the Arbor to train in beach assualt tactics, probably just another move incase of war starting with Gwaithol again. Jon thought that it made sense, at the academy he'd learned about the Battle of the Salt Cliffs where fifty thousand Farosi troops has attampted a beach landing but had been torn apart by Gwaithol cannons before their muskets could even be fired, including their leader, General Richari Cassius, Radwen's uncle. The few survivors ended up surrendering, and that was at the start of the Fifteen Years War, in fairness both sides fucked up in big ways but it seemed like the Gods themselves wanted Farsos to fail. Jon Arryn had approved it and the soldiers had been behaving themselves fairly well since then.

'That's right. How large is the force?'

'It's an entire Corps, that's ten Regiments of Foot, ten thousand men, three Regiments of Heavy Horse and three Light Horse, that's three thousand six hundred.'

'Almost forteen thousand men. If you can persuade the princess to support us they could turn the balance in our favour.'

'I'll try but I don't know if it will work. Besides, she's probably still with the Small Council and she wants me to stay with you for now.'

'Alright, tonight go and ask her, we need her help.'

'Father, it's not up to her. The Farosi have strict laws on when the army can be sent into action. Fighting smugglers is one thing but sending an entire Corps to fight the Lannisters is another, the Senate and King Lukon need to decide that.'

'Then ask Radwen to send a messanger. We need their soldiers to win this war.'

'I'll do what I can.'

So Jon spent some time after that at the door to the Tower of the Hand, feeling almost like a regular private on guard duty with his rifle and fixed bayonet, making sure only allies could enter the tower, that was until Littlefinger arrived.

'I need to speak with Lord Stark now.'

'Only members of his household are allowed to enter.'

'True Lieutenant Snow but this is important, Lord Stark needs to hear what I have to say.'

'Make it quick then,' Jon allowed him inside and, about ten minutes later, Jon saw his father, Littlefinger and half a dozen Stark men, including Jory, all armed with shotguns, revolvers and swords, walk out of the tower.

'Come on Jon,' he said and Jon joined the group as they went to the stables and then into the city.

...

This is disgusting, Jon thought to himself as he stood in the brothel, rifle in hand, and waited for his father to finish whatever his business there was. A half naked girl who worked there walked past Jon and smiled at him, which he ignored of course, he was doing a better job than the others who almost seemed to wish that Lord Stark wasn't there so they could enjoy themselves. Still, as they waited Jon just tried to think about what would bring his father into this place. He knew he wasn't seeing a whore, his father would never do that, but it must have been important. For a moment his thoughts went to himself, was he born in a place like this? Was his mother just like the women who left the buildings rooms disheveled and tired? The thought wasn't a good one, he wished so much that his father could speak of her but he never did. The only clue he got was at a party once at the embassy where he overheard a conversation between Colonel Donnah of the Military Police and the king just before they left for Winterfell.

'So Ned Stark's bastard, he's a good lad is he?'

'Of he is Your Grace. His record from the academy is nearly flawless.'

'He's all his father you know, nothing of his mother in him by his looks.'

'Did you know her?'

'His mother? No. Ned only mentioned her name once, it was, something starting with "W".'

'I'm surprised Lord Stark is so open about having a bastard.'

'That's Ned Stark for you, he couldn't bump into someone and not beg for forgiveness.'

For the first time he knew something about he, be it from a king who had just drank four glasses of whisky, but he had a name. With nothing better to do Jon adjusted his webbing, borrowed from the Guardsman, made from white leather and had a large pouch on the right side which held about fifty rounds. He also had another fifty for his revolver.

At last his father emerged from the room he had been in, followed by Littlefinger and Jory, and Jon joined them as they walked outside where the rest of the guards were waiting, shotguns in hand. Before they could reach their horses though Jon saw over twenty men in the red cloaks of the Lannisters, all of them armed with shotguns, march into the street and they were led by Jaime Lannister, mounted on a white horse. The smallfolk hanging around at once ran for it but a few remained, ready to watch. Jon looked about him as the Stark guards gripped their shotguns, Jory drew his revolver. Jon himself thought about what to do, this sort of scenario had been taught at Whitestone. He kept his rifle in his left hand and drew his revolver, if shooting started they'd have to get indoors and fortfy themselves.

'Stay back Ser Jaime, this is the Hand of the King,' Jory warned him.

'Actually, he was, the Hand of the King. Now he's just, I don't know, the Lord of somewhere not very important.'

'You have no right to speak ill to the Warden of the North,' said Jon.

'I can speak to him any way I want to Lieutenant,' Jamie stated as casually as he could. 'Now, you'd better run off back to the embassy, I think your princess needs her toes licked.'

'What are you doing here Lannister?' Littlefinger snapped.

'Get inside where it's safe,' was his response. 'Now Lord Stark, it's about my brother, he's hard to forget, very little and very clever. Your wife abducted him.'

'He was taken at my command,' was the response, Jon knew it was a lie and he respected his father for it, while he had no love for Lady Stark his father certainly did.

'Would you like to die armed?' the Kingslayer asked and the red cloaks took a step forwards, their weapons ready.

'Threaten my lord again and you'll answer with your treacheorus life!' Jory snarled.

'I'll get the Gold Cloaks,' Baelish said and quickly hurried off.

Coward, Jon thought to himself, probably just wanted to save his own skin.

'I'll make the threat obvious for you. My men will splatter your lords brains all over this street.'

'Kill me then,' the Lord of Winterfell told him, reaching for his own revolver instead of his sword. 'Your brother will be a dead man.'

The Kingslayer just shrugged his shoulders.

'Alright, take him and kill his men, not the bastard though, don't want to piss of the princess.'

Jon aimed his revolver, every Stark man aimed their own firearm, his father included and for a few moments no one moved, no one made a sound. For the first time in his life Jon was about to take part in a gunfight and he tried to work out what to do. All the shotguns were the same type, Frelpon Type 4's, and where everyone was standing they were just inside lethal range from eachother. They were double barrelled, if they could survive the volley's until the reload they could easily escape into the brothel and fortify themselves there. They just had to survive.

Then, almost as if the gods decided it, someone, one of the Lannisters, fired and a cloud of stone burst off of the wall behind Jon. The Gunfight at the Brothel began.

Jon fired quickly, his bullet struck a Lannister soldier in the neck and he fell dead instantly. With his revolver he fired three more times as he felt clous of buckshot fly through the air around him. There was a scream to his left and Jon saw one of fathers men fall to the ground, gripping a wound in his leg. He was hit again and this time his screams stopped. Jon saw his father sieze the shotgun and fired it before snapping off the mans ammo bag. Another shot was fired and Jon felt his hat fly off his head, that was close he thought for a second before he fired again. Both sides stopped to reload their shotguns while Jon kept firing from his pistol, hitting a Lannister soldier in the ammo bag, the powder erupted and the man was torn in half.

'Inside!' Jon's father ordered and everyone rushed inside, one of the men dragging the wounded soldier behind him.

Jon and Jory were the last inside, emptying their revolvers as the doors were slammed shut. Suddenly there were more shots and many of the windows were shattered, the whores screamed and ran away to avoid the hail of glass and lead.

'Everyone to the windows!' Lord Stark ordered as he snapped shut his shotgun.

'I'll get upstairs,' said Jon. 'With my rifle I can pick them off.'

'Alright Jon, just be careful. Don't shoot the Kingslayer! If he dies his father will come for revenge.'

Jon nodded and raced upstairs, went to a room where a naked Septon and a whore dressed up as a Silent Sister (Jon didn't want to know), were hiding under a bed. He threw open a window with the but of his rifle and took aim, shooting down at one of the red cloaks who was firing at close range. The man was killed at once and suddenly ten shotguns were firing at him. Jon jumped back and the shot only damaged the inside of the room and the window.

'What's the meaning of this?' shouted the Septon as he pulled his clothes back on and the whore sprinted out of the room.

'Go and hide! We're under attack.'

The man fled and Jon fired out of the window, striking down another red cloak. From down below he saw clouds of smoke from the ground floor windows, father and his men fighting back. They could hold out, Jon knew, but it wouldn't be easy to win.

Suddenly there was a massive volley of shots and seven red cloaks fell dead. The rest, including the Kingslayer, turned to face the source of the fire and at once rushed for a line of boxes and barrels nearby, making a quick barricade. Jon looked down the street and smiled at the sight.

His men, maybe twenty of them, stood tall and were rapidly moving into two ranks as they reloaded their carbines.

'Well done boys!' Jon shouted down and he recognised Corporal Donley leading the men who saluted up at him.

'First rank, take aim,' Donley shouted as the first rank knelt, fighting as dragoons. 'Fire!'

They fired at the same moment and cut down almost ten of the red cloaks.

'Second rank, take aim, fire!'

The same result and the Kingslayers horse threw him off as it was hit but the Golden Knight was able to avoid getting crushed and he stood up, picking up a shotgun and fired back as the rest of his men retreated.

'Stand and fight!' he shouted at them.

'Cease fire!' Jon shouted as loud as he could and his men heard him. 'Get out of here Lannister while you still can!'

'This isn't over!' he declared and turned to flee.

Relieved that this skirmish was ended Jon hurried downstairs where he found the doors open and in the street he found his father and their remaining guards talking to the Farosi troops. As soon as the troopers saw him they began to cheer him.

'Thanks for letting us have some fun Mister Snow sir!' Trooper Hensin shouted with a thrilled grin.

'Well done men,' he said to them. 'How did you know we needed help?'

'Sir, it was like this. The whole troop was riding out to hunt down smugglers when we we heard the gunfire. A man told us the Hand of the King was under attack and the princess told us you were with him so I led these lads to check on you. Sarge told us not to start a fight but, well, you see what happened.'

'You broke orders then,' Jon said and looked at the dead red cloaks. 'Alright, get back to the embassy and inform the pprincess that you attacked Jaime Lannister's men,' he stopped and thought about his next words, feeling his fathers eyes on him, 'under my orders.'

'But sir that didn't happen.'

'Yes it did,' he snapped at the corporal. 'Is that understood?'

'Yes sir,' he agreed reluctantly. 'Thank you sir.'

'Where are your horses?'

'Tied up in the next street,' answered Trooper Hensin.

'Good. To the embassy, now.'

'Squad, fall out,' ordered Donley and the men moved away at a quick march to their horses.

'Well done Jon,' his father said to him.

'Thank you father.'

'Will you get in trouble for this?'

'Probably. It depends, the Princess is in charge here so my fate's in her hands.'

'I see. Whatever happens, don't forget to try and get her support.'

'I promise father.'

'I'll need to see the king before the queen can sink her claws in deeper. Good luck, send word as soon as you can.'

Jon nodded and hurried as fast as he could to the stables where he mounte his horse and rode as fast as he could towards the embassy, with any luck his men would be there already. Just as he came in sight of the gates he saw ten men wearing black coats and top hats with revolver rifles in hand, Military Policemen, led by Colonel Donnah himself.

'Lieutenant Snow,' he shouted, 'you are under arrest.'

'I need to speak with the princess at once.'

'No, you're coming with us.'

The last thing Jon wanted to do was shoot any of the Military Police, it would not go well for anyone so he dismounted and allowed himself to be arrested.

...

The cell was awful, just below ground under the Military Police building next to the embassy, his only light a candle, a small and uncomfortable toilet was in the corner, there was a small desk, chair and a bed. The front of the cell was made of iron bars and his only company came from the policemen who patrolled the corridor outside. As he waited Jon thought about his men, he hoped that they wouldn't be punished for doing more than just finding information on the fight, this could be a breach of the Neautrality Act which wouldn't do much to win Farosi support. Then he thought of father, would he be dissapointed at not getting to speak with the princess or would he understand?

Eventually Sam was able to visit, which Jon was very gateful for.

'What's happening out there?' he asked his friend.

'Everything's confused,' he answered. 'The Kingslayer fled the city and the Queen tried to have your father arrested.'

'What's happened to him?'

'Nothing, he's safe for now. The princess ordered the whole District to be locked down, no civilian's allowed in the streets without a pass.'

'Why?'

'I don't know Jon, I just don't know. It's a mess outside right now.'

'Will I be court marshelled?'

'Probably, you were in uniform and you attacked the Kingslayer.'

'I'm being condemned for protecting my father. I didn't ask my men to join in.'

'I know that, I helped debrief them. From what they said I think you'd have a good case.'

'A good case, I need a good lawyer.'

'Jon, you saved my life in training, I'll help you whatever happens next.'

'Thanks Sam.'

After Sam left Jon was left by himself, he fel asleep for a while and woke up with a headache but someone had brought in a tray of food. His food was a thin vegetable soup with a few scraps of beef in it, a bun of marching bread and a mug of rum, none of which was appetising but Jon was hungry so of course he ate it. After that Jon resorted to laying down on his bed and thinking about how annoying this was and listened to the steady steps of the guards outside as they patrolled the corridor.

Then there was a change, the noise of the footsteps changed, three more sets, two loud, one soft, aproaching and then the door opened.

'Leave us,' a voice declared and Jon instantly stood up at the voice of the princess.

Her two purple clad guards left the cell and out of view of the bars, closing the door behind them. Jon stood facing her, the two of them silent for a while until Radwen stepped forwards, her expression blank.

'Sit down Jon,' she instructed and he sat on the chair while sat on the bed. 'What were you thinking?'

'I was following your orders, Your Highness,' he said as diplomatically as he could.

'My orders?'

'To make sure my father didn't get himself killed.'

'So you let Littlefinger take him to a brothel?'

'My father said he had to go, I don't know why.'

'Jon, as Ned Stark's son you had the right to defend him but your duty as a Farosi officer meant you should have tried to defuse the situation. We are officially neautral in any actions that go on here.'

'He was my father, I had to help him.'

'I know but your duty to your king comes first. Getting into a gunfight with the Kingslayer and his men was not a good idea.'

'He attacked us.'

'Only because your fathers wife decided to kidnap the midget.'

'I know. It didn't give give Ser Jaime the right to attack us.'

'It didn't, but House Stark has struck the first blow. This throws everything into the mess.'

'What do you mean?'

Radwen stood up and went to the gate of the cell and looked outside, seeing that her guards were out of earshot, she relaxed and turned to Jon.

'You have to unserstand that as the ambassador to Westeros and as the heir to the Emerald Throne, I have a great deal of knowledge, most of which is not known to the public.'

'Of course.'

'I can't give you details Jon but please understand that I want to. In short, my father has decided that Farsos should take, well, take a more active stance in Westerosi affairs than just trading and selling shotguns.'

'Do you mean you have permission to take a side?'

'Yes, that's right.'

'In that case, my father has a request for you. He wants the help of the 8th Corps for when the fighting starts.'

'An entire Corps of Farosi troops fighting alongside the armies of House Stark,' she said. 'I like the image myself.'

'So, does that mean yes?'

'It means,' she said slowly, 'House Cassius wants a strong ally in the North, afterall, why do you think your father is the only Lord Paramount to buy thousands of rifles?'

'I didn't think about that.'

'No you didn't. Jon, you need to look at the bigger picture here. You need to start asking why something happened rather than just accepting that something's happened. We've been throwing red tape and formalities at Lord Tywin Lannister for months now, slowing down the sale of rifles to him.'

'Why?'

'You answer why,' she encouraged him.

'Well,' he said and stood up, 'if you've been planning to get involved in the politics here for months, then I think you wanted the North armed as an ally against the Lannisters as an enemy who only have shotguns at best.'

'Well done, I'll make a politician of you yet.'

'I don't know why though. Why do you want to take on the Lannisters?'

'That's a secret right now Jon.'

'A secret?'

'Yes. I trust you but if the secret is known before the right time then I'll loose my place in the succession. Just trust me, my family has been waiting for this chance for a long time.'

'Alright, I'll let you keep your secrets, but what should I tell my father?'

'That I want an alliance, when the fighting starts, the 8th Corps will be ready.'

'Thank you Your Highness.'

'Just Radwen,' she told him. 'There is something else, your actions today are technically illegal and I know you lied in you rinterrogation.'

'I told the truth, I sent for aid from my men.'

'If you insist I'll have that put in your record, "Grave Error of Judgement" it will say. I'll dock you a months pay as well as appropriiate punishment but consider yourself free to go.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Oh, and before I forget, I have a request to ask you.'

'Is it important?'

'To me it is. You remember that the anniversary of my fathers coronation is coming up?'

'Of course I remember. The twenty fifth anniversay isn't it?'

'Yes that's right. The embassy will be hosting a celebration ball to mark the occassion and I need a partner for the dance. Consider youself conscripted for the duty.'

'Your Highness,' Jon said, a little taken aback, 'I'm flattered but I don't think a bastard is good company for the heir to the throne.'

'Jon, don't worry about that. Besides, haven't you noticed that the names of half the old aristocracy is Farsos are variations of the name Hill?'

'If you insist I'll go with you.'

'I do insist. I'll see you later Jon.'

She then left and Jon was now allowed to leave the cell and went straight back to the barracks. His Troop had quarters inside of it with numerous bunk beds for the men and a side room for himself. When he entered the quarters he intended to go straight to his room and start polishing his dress boots, expecting most of the men to be out. However, just before he reached the door he noticed that he wasn't alone, Corporal Donley was sitting on his bunk, looking a bit worse for wear, unshaven and hair in a mess.

'Are you alright Donley?'

'The MP's questioned all of us for about three hours.'

'Those bloody black coats love questioning men for doing their job. Why aren't you at the mess?'

'You see sir,' he said and stood up, a bit shaky on his feet, 'me and the others whe helped you out, we want to thank you for taking the fall for us,' he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. 'This is for you sir.'

Jon took the bottle and read the lable, "Grandle Whisky".

'Thank you Donley,' he said to the man and shook his hand before going into his room.

AN: So, Ned Stark isn't wounded, the Imp has been seized and a gunfight on the streets of the capital. What is the King of Farsos planning and what will be the next move of the Farosi? Find out next time.

So, I hope you all liked this chapter, I enjoyed writing it myself and I may or may not have been watching Tombstone when I did it. So, please review or Favourite this story. Thank you for reading.

Review Responses:

Pinoy Gamer: I'm afraid it's a bit more sinister than smuggling. As for the guy, I'm not sure if you meant the men Arya saw underground in the armoury or the Nights Watch guy at the end, the Night Watchman was Yoren from Season 1 and 2. As for the men underground, don't the Military Police uniform descriptions look familiar?

Frost5: Interesting ideas about what the weapons underground are for. Also, a brilliant example of a less well equipped army winning over a modern one is Prestonpans from 1745 where a Jacobite Army was able to defeat the government army in just under half an hour. As for the role of the armoury, we will see.

Tertius711: We shall see. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Due to matters at uni the next chapter may be delayed a bit but I will try my best to get it up on time.

Keep the reviews coming and thank you all!