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 XXIV…
Swampflood, the boys' sick room…
"You give…!" "No, you give!" cries…
Growls…Sounds of struggling.
Lady Maud, happily gleaming in her spic and span day uniform, black with the Addams crest, a warthog, on the shoulders, summoned by a mournfully grimacing…Uhhhhhhhhhh…Lurch, entering with grim frown… "Boys?!"
She found the boys eagerly watching their respective pets struggling on the floor over what appeared to be a ball, the direwolf with teeth firmly clamped while Hoodoo the rather orangutanish, if green furred, swamp thing attempted somewhat nervously to maintain his hold on the ball. The direwolf clearly having lost its initial dread of the swamp thing, the thing in its course having developed a certain healthy respect for Summer's jaws and fangs.
Hmmn…Maud eyed the "ball".
Gomez…She rolled eyes. Leaving your toys out where the boys could get into them…
"Give me that. Now." She commanded the two pets, both responding to her grim tone of command.
"Aw, Gram…" Pugsly sighed. "We were just playin'…"
"And if that grenade of your father's firepowder goes off, who has to clean up the splatter? Lurch has enough to do these days. And I've no time for holding your hands because you got your pets banged up. Now, Summer?!" Hoodoo, well-experienced with Grandmama Addams having immediately released his hold.
Summer sheepishly coming to Maud, grenade in jaws, dropping at her feet, glancing to Branded…Traitor, Branded's return look leaving the direwolf in mournful state, creeping back to his fur mat.
"Good boy. Boys?" she frowned at them. "I know it's been boring in here but this is a bit much. We've all gone to a lot of trouble to try to patch you up and here you are about to blow yourselves to Essos."
"That'd be neat…" Pugsly beamed. "But I just wanted to try it in one of Father's rocket spears. He once got one to travel three hundred miles from launch point, right into the window and the shoulder of the chief steward of the House Greatjerk's Keep on the Tin Islands. See, here's our design plan…" he offered a sheath of parchment with drawings of a rather large rocket.
"Ours'd go even further, and should carry a payload…" Branded noted. "We were working on a more aerodynamic design based on raven's wings. It could be a whole new way of sending messages…"
"We're exercising our minds, Gram…Just as you said to." Pugsly noted solemnly.
"I didn't see mental exercise, I saw two idiots playing like two year olds with things they should know better than to fool about with." Frown, then reflection… "Still, it's not a bad idea. I've a liking for seeing war weapons converted to peaceful uses. Then the weakling namby-pamby idiots on the King's Council can't cut research funding." Lady Maud nodded. "All right, if you two are really interested in this as a project, lets do it right. I'll take this to the armorer and see if he can put something together and tomorrow we'll ride out and try a test fire, if you behave yourselves, all right?"
"Sure, Gram…" "Deal, Lady Addams."
"Can we really go by cart?" Pugsly asked. "It would be nice to be there for launch and get outta here for a little while."
"Yeah…" Branded nodded. "You won't do it without us there?"
"Of course you can go…But why go by cart when you could ride?" Maud, puckish grin.
"You finished Cousin Tyrion's saddle?" Pugsly, eagerly.
"We did…Lurch tried one of the two out this morning, yours naturally, Pugsly. Tyrion's design was on the money. Branded, your brother is bringing yours from Winterfalls this afternoon."
Wow…Both boys beamed.
"So it would behoove you both not to blow yourselves up first." Maud eyed each. "Fair enough?"
"Ok, Gram…" "Yes, Greataunt…"
"Hoodoo? You and Summer keep these idiots in check, all right?" she eyed the swamp thing who nodded. "I'll see about having supper brought."
"Will you eat with us and tell us about you cleaved Ser Bitumous the Rock into slabs and fed him to your dogs?" Pugsly, eagerly.
"He got me angry." Sigh, shake of head. "I dislike unnecessary rape and pillage when we take a town and an example had to be made. But I was a bit unfair not holding a formal trial, however drumhead. It's just…When I saw him with that girl and realized she wasn't a rapee…After all those things he said to me…And gods, he was good in the…"
Uh…She came out of her reverie. "Never kill when angry, boys. At least one of your own. You'll always regret it. Some. We'll talk more about your rocket service at supper." She took the grenade in hand and went out.
"Gods, she is so cool…" Branded noted fondly.
"Ay…" Pugsly agreed. "And see, we got her to agree to the test without even having to make that long wussy speech about how meaningless our lives are now."
"Yeah." Nod. "So what now till supper?"
"Lets see if we can get Hoodoo to ride Summer?"
"Better…Lets get Summer to ride Hoodoo…" Branded beamed.
Hoodoo and Summer eyeing each other with same mournful look…
"You know Brand…" Pugsly considered, despite the joys of contemplating the coming supper… "It would be great if our test flight were manned."
"Whoa…Yeah. Well, we did estimate a payload of 140 Westerosian pounds." Branded nodded.
"What a shame Wednesday went South. Still…" Pugsly looked over at the still more mournful Summer and Hoodoo…
"Too heavy…" Branded shook head. "But we'll find…Someone…"
…
The Wall…
Where manly men are, well, manly men…Except…As whispered words and grins suggested since Tyrion's impromptu outing, perhaps…The joke was passed…A certain Ser Allister…
Who as a result was rather more po'd than usual.
Not that there was anything wrong with that, as all the Brothers noted to each other. Hell, at least fiftly percent of us came here with the hope of meeting that certain someone. It's just the guy was such a paranoid prick about it, trying to make it seem the ultimate shame and bullying anyone he was attracted to…
Excuse me?…Jon Snowed, hearing the whispered conversation in the great mess hall, gulped.
"Snowed! You lil' rich boy bastard!" Ser Allister had entered the hall, coming directly before him. "Yer wanted by the Commander! Message from the South! Get yer miserable ass in gear and get out there."
"Uh…Yes, sir!" Jon rose.
"Hope it's nothing serious, Jon." Ser Allister, low voice… "Now move it, you lil' sack of rich man's bastard shite!" grim scowl immediately returned to face.
Jon hurrying from the hall, rather more panicked by the kindly note of concern…
…
Lord Commander Monumental at table greeted Snowed kindly, at his side elderly but shrewd Maester Aemon the Secret Prince, known by all to be a prince of House Targaryen, the secret he imagines so well hidden kept unmentioned in public converse by the kind forbearance of his Brothers.
"There's word from King's Landing, Snowed. It seems we are to have a visit from the Hand himself in a short time. And his mother, the Lady Maud."
Ah…Maudie…Both Monumental and Aemon sighing at the fond memory…
"This is good news for our pitiful band, Snowed. Things may be changing for the better for us."
"Gods know just in the nick…" Aemon noted.
"I see…That's great news, Lord Commander. But…" Jon
"Lord Hand Addams is coming, he says, to survey the area for a new means of transport. A road of rails…" Monumental looked at Jon.
"Oh…His railroad, yes. Cousin Gomez…The Lord Hand…Often spoke of it to my father and all of us."
"Daft idea, if you ask me…" Aemon shook his head. "A wagon of iron pulled on two tracks by burning wood or this black rock he's so fond of. No horses? Ridiculous."
"I have seen it, no offense, Maester. On a small scale but large enough to pull us around part of Swampflood. It's quite fast…" Jon, apologetically to Aemon's and the Commander's stares. "It could speed up the movement of troops if things get bad here. I've seen it hit thirty miles Westerosian miles per hour and the Hand has spoken of sixty or more being possible."
"Well, whether it's lunacy or brilliant, this is a great opportunity, Jon." The Commander noted. "We'll have the ear, eye, the whole damned body of the man with the real power in the Kingdom here. It behooves us to put our best foot forward…And he has asked us to assign you to him while he's here to survey both the new line and the lower and far North, even beyond the Wall, for possible iron and coal deposits."
"A chance to survey beyond the Wall, like a full Ranger. And seek my long-overdue uncle Benjy? Done…Sir." Jon nodded eagerly.
"Bring in his reanimated corpse more likely…" Aemon noted grimly. "No offense, boy." He noted to Jon's anxious look. "But one must face reality, especially in this hell-hole where we barely hang on to survival by our fingernails."
"Yes, Maester. But I still have hope for my uncle."
"Best to lose it." Aemon shrugged. "Sorry. If you but knew the tragedy and loss I've survived, you'd understand my morose moods better. But that's my deeply-held secret regarding my true possibly royal parentage and so forth…Which none may know of."
"Yes, Maester."
"Anyway, Jon…" Monumental resumed, after rolling eyes at Aemon's last. "Can we count on you to make a good case for the Watch? I know fundraising and lobbying may seem a bit inconsequential to fighting weird creatures and desperately rampaging wildlings but I assure you it's what allows us to continue to do such things."
"I understand, Commander." Jon nodded. "I'm very fond of the Lord Hand and his mother, it will be a pleasure as well as an honor to serve the Watch."
"I'm sure." Monumental agreed. "Though I think we'll entertain…"
Mmmmn…He and Aemon, picturing Maud…Slowly stripping off her armor…
"…Lady Maud here while you show the Hand around the North, with your own picked band of stalwart ex-rapers, ex-thieves, ex-murderers, ex-molesters, and assorted unwanted bastards, etc."
Oh? No see Auntie Maudie? Gee…Jon sighed. Still, wouldn't want the other guys to see her fussin' over me…Or me crying after she left.
Though surely she won't go without seeing me…
"Thank you, Commander. But…" he began.
"Oh, your vows…" Monumental nodded. "Don't worry about that, we'll have a speeded-up version tonight. You just find the lads you think will do and gather them after dinner."
"You may as well pick the least valuable, Snowed." Aemon noted grimly. "You'll all probably be dead within a week of heading north of the Wall."
"Dismissed, Snowed." Monumental nodded to Jon who saluted him and turning, headed out.
In the hall outside he paused to consider the great news…Vowed tonight, in command of his own taks force, Cousin Gomez and Aunt Maud visiting…
…Dead within a week?
"Sweetheart…" he heard from the Commander's room. "There was no need to frighten the kid."
"It's only the truth, dear." Aemon's voice. "I can't help it, it's my grim past sours my natural optimism. At least I'm only melancholy in my nature, not insane like my brother the Madder King. Though it's only you that makes life worth suffering through, love." Fond tone.
Such true comradeship…Jon thought, heading off.
Hope Aunt Maud brings pie…I love her Essosian apple pie.
You know, I wonder if Maester Aemon has that niece of his' address in Essos…I'd love to get an autographed picture if the King's censors would allow it. She is so hot…