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 X…
Swampflood Keep Dining Hall… "Orgy In Progress" sign on the great entrance door greeting the tall, grim man in the robes and armor of the Knights Who Wear Black Even Though White Would Make It Harder To See Them In The Snow, the honorable Black Night's Watchers of the Great Wall of the North. He gave the sign a gimlet-eyed look and shake of head, as did the Addams retainer, the faithful if ever depressed and hulking Lurch, who had admitted him at the castle's outer gate and led him here, with groan.
"Yessss…" Lurch nodded, indicating their shared discomfort with such frivolity, at any time and especially now and by the head of state. "I'll announce you, Ser Stark. Uuuuhhhhh…" he took off the sign and opened the door.
"FESTER! FESTER! FESTER!" the cry now from within…By most of the male company and not a few of the ladies, Lurch's and the said Black Night's Knight's sight being greeted by the spectacle of Uncle Fester demonstrating for the partyers, his unique ability to channel the power of Lord Gomez's lightning jar through his head and into a piece of copper in each ear which then acted as a glowing red magnet, attracting every thing metal, including tableware, swords, daggers, shields, and if he kept it up long enough, burning his ears slightly, armor, to him.
"Ser Benjy Stark, my Lord! Uuuuuhhhhhhhh…" Lurch announced.
"Ben, old man!" Gomez rose, dodging a flying sword snatched out of Ser Lotus' hand. His manly, dear hand, Wednesday thought, eyeing him from her seat. Joffrey in his next to her, watching Ser Lotus narrowly…Clutching fingers grimly… "Fester? Better turn it off before you get burns or a broadsword between the ears, dear fellow!" He cheerily called to a reluctant Fester. Addams moving to take Ser Benjy by the hand. "So great you could make it for the royal orgy." Both looked over to where Robert was dancing on table with wench #10 now, kicking food about as Cersei still attempted to make politely meaningless royal chatter with Morticia while dodging…
"Wanted to stop and check on my nephews." Ser Benjy nodded. "Just on my way back to the Wall with the latest round of romantic idiots, thieves, rapists, worthless sons, and assorted disposable unpersons and scum for whom life at the Wall is preferable to being sentenced to one of our hideous medieval punishments, including endless macho mocking of romantic idiots." Ser Benjy nodded. "Where in the company of men, in a man's world where nothing is given to you, like the liberal pinkos would like to, but is earned, from the government…In manly ways, alternating between ranging out in the vast frozen stepes of the Eternal Snowlands seeking poorly armed savage foes to kill and cooking and cleaning and acquiring a good knowledge of fine wines and cutlery at the Black Keep. For life, surviving through nothing but one's individual responsibility, generous grants from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, the Edduard Stark Trust, the Lannister Foundation which invites you to share in the defense of the realm from mythical threats and marauding barbarians, the 90% government-funding of the Corporation for Public Defense, and contributions from people like you." Glance to the room and us in general…
"Sounds like a Lady Ayn Randian paradise…Complete with the social security and collective public works and infrastructure she claimed to scorn but eagerly used when she needed it." Gomez noted.
"Ay…" Ser Benjy looked round… "Boys." He nodded to the Stark boys. "Hey, Uncle Benjy!" multiple waves.
"The boys look well despite their recent crippling loss, Gomez." He noted.
"A little orgying can lift even the most crushed spirit, Ben. Robert's certainly always wonderful the way he lifts all cares from his burdened shoulders during these things." Nod in the direction of King Robert currently vomiting into a knight's proffered helmet, that of the Airdale's massive and much feared brother Ser Raging Pus de la Boil.
Robert catching sight of Joffrey in midboastful attempt to impress a profoundly bored and annoyed Wednesday with his "manly prowess" in swordplay and horseback stunts. The Airdale behind Joffrey rolling eyes.
Hmmn….Robert stared at helmet. Well, no reason to waste the opportunity to put the little shite of mine in his place…
"Joffrey!" he cried. "Time I made you a knight, get yer weak knee and candy ass down in the mire next to the table here and take up Ser Raging Pus de la Boil's helmet. Give it to me son, Ser Raging Pus…" he addressed the knight currently eyeing his puked-in helmet. Ser Raging Pus de la Boil at the King's command and with considerable satisfaction, handing helmet to the summoned Joffrey, now kneeling by the table, deep in mire, gingerly taking helmet.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Robert eyed the nervous Joffrey "A knight needs a helmet. Clap it on, you little shit! Don't you have the balls ta be a knight?!"
"But…Father?"
"Right, why even bother to ask…No balls at all…Like your real father, eh?"
"Father…?" Joffrey, staring…
"Daddy's just foolin' with you, precious." Cersei, insistent smile. "But go on and try to show a stone, if you can find one…" she frowned.
"Mother?…Father?" Joffrey looked at each in turn.
"Get that helmet on, you little pussy-whipped wimp! Or I'll have it melted down and poured on your head and we'll see if you do better than the just-in reports of that Targaryen kid, Viciously Targaryen."
"What?" Cersei stared.
"Has something happened to one of my most feared rival contenders for the throne in episodes to come?" Joffrey, eagerly.
"About ten pounds of melted Doofraki gold if Lord VeryMuchs' spies got it right, yeah…" Robert guffawed.
Oh…Lady Addams listening with the others at table, gasped and sighed, trying to conceal her feelings as she tossed a turkey leg on to the waste plate held by Ser Arnold at her side, he still running in place in his armor. Not my Viciously? Oh, I always feared his insane father and I not telling him he wasn't a pure-blood Targaryen born of incest would come back to haunt him if he ever tried to rely on those legendary (probably) powers of heat-retardance.
My poor boy…All I have left of my Targaryen dalliance…Gone with the wind and ten pounds of melted Doofraki gold. And he never knew me as his true mummy who luved his white hair and purple eyes, however much they might freak one out.
"A toast!" Joffrey started to rise, relieved to seize the chance to escape… "To the hideous and revolting death of my enemy! Our enemy, Father…" to Robert's sudden baleful glare.
"Sorry…" Joffrey knelt again.
"Oh,no boy." Robert sneered. "That was a fine toast. Go ahead, finish…Drink up." He eyed Joffrey, then the helmet.
"You, shite-head!" he called to a passing servant bearing a flagon of wine.
"…Give Prince Joffrey some wine, the little puissant hero wants to do us proud with his sick little toast. No cup, he already has one fit for a prince like him."
The attendant nervously stepped over with flagon, moving to pour. Joffrey too nervous under his 'father''s baleful stare to protest.
Still, Lady Addams glanced over to where Jon Snowed and the other Stark boys and Fearing Greatjerk were all now standing about their uncle and Lord Gomez, offering Benjy greetings…
I still have my Jonny, dear boy. Who'll stay here safe under my watchful eye if I can just persuade Gomez it would be a good idea to give his old friend's bastard a wardship and home here rather than have him go home to Winterfalls. No dangers of losing him at least.
"So, since the Watch needs men and I need a secure employment…" Jon was noting. "And my father had consented to my joining the Watch to get his wife off his back about me…"
"Drink and arise off yer shitey lil' candy ass, Ser Joffrey, Prince of Storm's End…" Robert guffawed, thwacking the miserable Joffrey into the mire, the Airdale by his side grabbing the helmet before he could drop it and spill the contents.
"I said drink, damn yer miserable illegit sniveling little shite." The King glared.
"Ser Prince Joffrey, do as Pa bids…" Cersei insisted. "You can't wuss in front of your future bannermen."
"Here, my Lord…" the Airdale offered helmet, concealing his amusement.
"Cam on, ya little bastard…" Robert ordered.
"Joffrey…" Cersei glared. "Don't embarrass your father and lose your mother's affection, the only you have."
Well…At least this may impress Father, my new beloved, and will go a long way toward explaining my psychotic behavior, Joffrey reflected. And I get it's something Father would do. He tremulously bringing helmet to lips, drank… "Arrrrrrrrrhhhhh…"
"Ah, ha, ha, ha, Hah!" Robert bellowed, striking table.
God, what a wuss… Wednesday shook head grimly, then returned to worshipfully gazing on the object of her intense desire, Ser Lotus. Who was eagerly engaged in conversation…No doubt the manly affairs of manly, romantic knights and the Kingsguard…With Ser Jamie. Ser Lotus fondly holding his arm.
"There's a good boy, Joffrey. Mother won't withhold affection, for now." Cersei noted.
"Have I earnt your respect, Father?" Joffrey eagerly, glancing at Wednesday as well who ignored him and the vomit on his lips.
"Are you joking, you little twat?! My respect?! Hah! I'd've killed every man in the room before I'd've let meself be degraded like that! What a doofus, what a gutless shite of a son…" the King shook his head. "Gods, me only prayer is that a bloody civil war engulfs the realm after my death and you and your shite whore of a mother wind up on spikes so a real man can take the throne…"
"Bobbie…Political stability…" Cersei cautioned.
"Stability be damned…" he glared. "Let us have blood and cracked crowns, axes hewing through skulls…Swords hacking arms and legs…Mothers whimpering with their doomed babies at breast as cities are sacked…! It's good for the race. You've read Ser Teddy Roosevelt's books on the subject…"War, Mass Killing and the Necessary Rejuvenation of the Proper Manly Spirit", haven't ye?"
"I have, Father!" Joffrey, eagerly.
"Well, I haven't, you four-eyed little nerd. I just glanced at the book jacket." Robert frowned. "A manly King has more to do than read and follow state affairs for the good of the Kingdom all day long. He should either be on the field destroying his enemies or hunting down both vicious and defenseless animals, or at least whoring and drinking and feastin' on a grand scale. Have you learnt nothing from my example, you stupid dickless, worthless probable bastard?"
"Father…My one desire is to emulate your example in every twisted way I can, though not being you I can only hope to create a twisted, psychopathic version of your irresponsible reign."
"Eh, get outta of my sight…I've feastin' and whorin' to do." Robert sneered.
"Go and clean up and have a nap, Joffrey…Your father's so concerned about you." Cersei, fond beam to Robert.
"But I'm not…" Joffrey groaned, collapsing and vomiting, the strain of orgying and drinking a helmet of vomiting being just too much.
"Wuss…" Robert eyed him coldly.
"I'll take him to his chambers…" The Airdale lifted Joffrey like a sack of potatoes and started off…
"Wednesday…" Joffrey moaned as he was carried off…
"God, that jerk is a wuss…" Wednesday noted to the knight seated next to her, the duplicitous Ser Merwyn Tattleall who eagerly noted the indiscreet remark for future reference while making no reply.
"Well, quite a time…" Gomez beamed to Ser Benjy as they stood with the Stark boys, Fearing Greatjerk anxiously attempting to join the circle of worshipful lads but frozen out by a cold stare by Ser Benjy…And who do you think ye are, wuss captive traitor's son?
"Uncle…" Jon Snowed had come over. "Am I still to be allowed to join you on your way back to the Great Wall, so that I too may join the Black Night's Watchers and give my miserable bastard's existence some meaning?"
"Jon…" Robbed, concerned. "I was hoping you'd reconsider and stay with us to help me run Winterfalls and govern the North…Not officially of course, you being a miserable bastard son of my father but as a sort of half-assed, underpaid guy who does all my dirty work."
"I'd normally jump at the chance, bro…" Jon nodded. "But I feel it's my destiny to be at the Wall at this time. That the whole fate of the kingdom hangs on my being there."
"Hmmn…Well…" Robbed shrugged. "I guess a bastard's gotta have fantasies like that to give his life a modicum of meaning unless his whole family is slaughtered and he alone is left to defend its honor and inherit its lands and wealth. Good luck to you, Jon Snowed, my brother. You will tell no one about being my dad's worthless bastard when you get up there, right?" he eyed him.
Jon? My Jonny? Lady Addams blanching… To the grim bitterness of the Wall and the Black Night's Watch, for life? Oh…
Well, I guess I could visit him up there…Whip those elderly lard asses and their young mess of thieves, rapists, and degenerate or worthless sons of noble houses into some kind of shape…And see a few of my old boyfriends…She thought, sighing at Jon.
King Robert suddenly rising…Massively belching, which resulted in two knights across the table fainting. "I…Think…Is time for a break…" he vomited again across the table.
"Lets go!" Cersei, rising eagerly.
"Oh…Gods…" Robert, clutching stomach. "For once I'm so sick I don't even care…Gomez!" he turned to Lord Gomez. "Great party, keep it going, I'll be back in an hour or two."
"Or tomorrow morning! Or in several days!" Cersei, happily…Taking his arm. "Lean on me…When you're not strong…And I'll be your friend…I'll help you carry on…" she sang to Robert rapturously as they headed out, the Kingsguard, led by a somewhat perturbed Jamie…
I really think sometimes…He thought, watching Cersei happily hugging the groaning Robert as they walked, all the company rising and bowing to them. The great doors of the Hall closing behind them…
"Gomez…" Benjy had turned to him. "I understand you're to be Hand to the King and hold near absolute power in the realm soon."
"It seems so, Ben…Need anyone killed?" Gomez, attentively.
"The Black Night's Watchers have been getting disturbing reports from the Rangers and the Far North tour guides…Things are happening in the Far North, Gomez. Besides Winter is…"
"…Coming, right." Gomez nodded.
"Yes…And a host of other things, including maybe the White Zombie Walkers, their armies of the converted dead, the wildling marauders in force, backed by mammoths and giants, and Gods know what else. And while we can handle a lot of that on our manly, individually responsible own, even we staunch conservatives of the Watch have concluded we might need a little more assistance, say an army of 100,000 or more, heavy weapons, a work force of about 200,000 to make urgently needed repairs, and cash to cover all this. You'll be at Robert's side and running his government, see what you can do, will ye? Without getting the government involved in our affairs officially of course." Grim nod. "We don't want the government taking away our Black Night's Watch's Medicare you know."
"But isn't that a government program, Ben? As is your whole outfit?" Gomez noted.
"Just heed me words, Gomez. And do what ye can." Ser Benjy nodded, grimly. "Of course we'll still condemn you and the government in public for your liberal pinko socialist schemes but we'll all be truly grateful in private."
"Do what I can, Ben…Do what I can…Quite a morass to wade through down there, you know." Gomez sighed.
"Ladies and gentlemen…UHHHHHHH." Lurch had taken center floor with mistrels, he bearing fiddle. "We move on to the dance portion of today's festivities." He began to play…
"Oooh…'Electric Slide'…" Wednesday beamed, rising. "Ser Lotus?" she eagerly addressed him as he sat, eyeing the next worthy knightly candidate after the departed Jamie. "My likely betrothed? Not meaning to jump the formal negotiations' gun but… How's about you and me cutting a rug?" hopeful stare.
"Oh…I suppose so." Ser Lotus sighed, rising. "My lady and potential stepping stone to real power." He bowed.
"Wednesday's got a boyfriend…" Pugsly teased.
"Given your brother's heir to your family's vast fortune and lands, I'll gladly poison or skewer him after we're married in a meaningless ceremony to which I'll attach no importance other than an increase in my power and prestige whilst I pursue…Other pleasures more amenable to me…My lady." Ser Lotus hissed to Wednesday as she and he joined the majority of orgygoers to begin the dance… "Presuming the negotiations go well and our families approve our inconsequential union."
"I'll think about it, thanks." Wednesday nodded, beaming at his divine face, his gaze now fixed on another young knight's.
"Electric Slide...Bugga-bugga…" the minstrels chanted…