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 XXX…
Storming Out…
"There's a party goin' on right here…A celebration to last out the year…" a troupe of minstrels playing, torches blazing, supplemented by contained orbs of glowing green wildfire.
For once the blazing reflecting on to the "Hail, the Light Lord…And his Brother…" banners not involving screams and suffering, the crowd was in a reasonably merry mood. Most not even interested in provoking trouble by pointing out there'd never been any mention of a "Brother" to the Light Lord in any of Melisande's innumerable tracts and sermons. Nor anything but the vaguest of references to any LL relatives…A stretching by any measure of such phrases as, "The Light Lord, born of woman…" in such scriptures as the "Good News of the Light Lord According to Priestess Melisande".
After all…No one burning, Melisande acting as a gracious hostess, Lord Stanislaw a tad less grim than usual at her suggestion, and a party's a party…
"Admiral Ser Davos…" Melisande beamed at the Admiral of the Sailable Sea in his dress uniform, his wife Marya anxiously on his arm, glancing about carefully. "And Lady Seaworthy, how good it is to see you here at court." Brittle smile.
"Davos…" Stanislaw by Melisande's side, curt but friendly nod of greeting. "Lady Marya…So the old dog managed to talk you into coming." Faint smile. "Lady Melisande, I think this is the first time we've ever seen Lady Seaworthy at court."
"I wouldn't go unless she came to talk to me…" Davos calmly. "So, since she thought I'd best go…"
"Well then, we are fortunate milady was willing to grace our gathering…" Melisande beamed.
Je…Light Lord, she's beautiful. I thought she'd be some fisherwife or maybe an old pirate's sea slut, she gazed at the lovely, tall, dark-haired Marya, the image of Indira Varma,…(Remember what I said about casting), in plain yet elegantly simple dress…Who nervously smiled, curtsying to Stanislaw. "My Lord is too kind…I just thought Davos should be here, since you've graced our family so much."
"Well, it's high time we got you out of Cape Wrath for an evening or two…" Stanislaw, surprisingly gracious. "So how go your botanical experiments? I've told the ole dog here I want to try your spinach among my troops." Look of genuine interest, not to mention relief at having something worthwhile to converse about rather than the usual court nonsense…
"We've seen promising results in a new species of potato that will grow even in the salty soil of the Cape." Marya, likewise relieved at the chance to have something to talk about… "But I would be very careful with trials of our special spinach. There have been allergic reactions, my Lord. Only Davos has really seen a fully beneficial effect." She beamed at Davos.
"Indeed…And proof again of what a tough old sea dog you have here. But if we could ever get it for use among the average soldiery…Oh, Maester Morbid…" Stanislaw waved to a rather forbidding looking old figure, casting sneering glances at the more eager devotees of the new faith wandering about, quoting from their scriptures and proclaiming their personal link to the Light Lord.
Fanatic morons…Next week it'll be the Buddha of Essos who's your one true savior God. He came over to the group, slight frown on seeing Melisande…
"Morbid…This is Lady Marya Seaworthy, I've told you about her botanical work." Stanislaw, eagerly. "Her enhanced crops saved all our lives when Admiral Seaworthy smuggled them into us during the great siege."
"Ah…Yes…" Morbid eyed Marya who gave nervous smile. "Lady Marya. I've read your monographs on nutritional depletion of the soils of the Storming Out area…" pause… "Brilliant work…Indeed."
"Thank ye…" Davos beamed at Marya who gave nervous shrug…Well… "It was just an observational study, Maester."
"Many a Maester of the Citadel couldn't produce such a well-documented work. And the thinking behind it is excellent."
Hey. I write too, you know. All these scriptures and sermons didn't write themselves…Even if they of course were divinely inspired, Melisande thought, frowning a bit in her turn.
"I'm eager to have Marya…Lady Marya…Begin clinical trials of that spinach of hers…" Stanislaw noted. "If it has anything like the effect it has on our old dog of a seadog here…" fond beam to Davos. "Our army would be invincible."
"A worthy experiment, under controlled and ethical conditions, my Lord." The Maester nodded. "I should like to hear your proposal for it in detail, my lady."
"Oh, I would be so pleased to have you review it, Maester." Marya, happily.
"Natural philosophers can never relax I see…" Melisande smiled.
"Oh, Morbid…" Stanislaw, remembering his hosting duties… "You haven't said hello to the High Priestess yet." Slight plea in his look…
Lets not fight the old fight just right now, it's a party, guys…
"Yes." Morbid…Long pause as Melisande maintained brittle smile. Even the nervous Marya becoming aware something was a bit… "How are you, Lady Melisande? Interesting evening."
"Indeed. I am well, sheltered in the bosom of the Light Lord. I hope you are the same."
"Well. Despite the lack of sheltering bosom." Morbid, frostily. Turning back to the anxious…What's going on, what do I do? Look to Davos…Marya. Davos returning soothing look…All's well, love. "Perhaps we could discuss your trial plans and the results of your latest series of plantings, my lady? I'm quite eager to see if we could incorporate some of your ideas into the next planting season on a large scale."
"Yes, quite…" Stanislaw nodded. "Nothing outside a good settlement of our political future is more important to the Kingdom than a strong agriculture."
Het…Hemn…Melisande eyed him.
"And of course the conversion of all who can accept the True Faith." Stanislaw hastily added…Morbid rolling eyes.
"Well, since you insist on talking of great matter among you, perhaps we lesser mortals could take a stroll about and greet our friends…By your leave, my Lord…And if I might borrow your husband, milady?" Melisande, seizing her chance and Seaworthy's arm.
"Ummn…" Marya blinked.
"Please…Anything to relieve me from having to do it, Davos. We'll keep poor Marya safe from the usual gossipy nonsense. Do us this service, Davos and it's another grant of lands for you and yours and I'll see Marya's next grant app is funded fully. I mean that, please." Stanislaw, nodding.
"As you command, me Lord. Marya? Will ye be all right for just a bit? If ye get nerves, just come and fetch me, dearest."
"I will…" Marya, kissing him.
"Such a dear couple you are…" Melisande beamed. "Well, come along, Admiral…Lets strive to put all at ease."
"Me thinks an edict of religious tolerance and an end to burnings of heretics would be the easy solution there, milady." Davos noted calmly as they headed off, Melisande firmly hanging on his arm.
"Everything is negotiable, Admiral Ser Davos…" Melisande smiled serenely. "One just has to be willing to come to an understanding favorable to all parties. Welcome, friends…Praise the Light…" she nodded to several attendees who sought to catch her eye.
"I be not one for such subtly, ma'am…I remain what I am…" Davos, grimly. Eyeing an eager recent convert asking a courtier if he had "Found the Light Lord…And his Brother…".
"So you see, an increase of fifteen percent in the nitrate composition…" Marya contented noted to Maester Morbid…
Gods…Melisande looking back. It's hopeless, it isn't it? They were made for each other.
Still, a High Priestess hates to be scorned. And he is just so damned hot in his feisty sailorman's way. She clung tightly to Davos' arm.
….
"Holy shit!" Middlefinger, swinging round in his swivel chair, cat in lap looking anxious as well…
"This can't be true! Joffrey is out? Cersei approved it? Just like that?!"
(Equally stunned look from Verysmuch at his desk…
All right, I didn't see this coming either, he sighs to us…)
"I'm afraid so, my Lord Belloq…" Balding, rotund Ser Treacherous de la Finks, knight of the City Guard and Petyr's paid chief spy at court when he can't be present or is excluded from affairs…Being of course just a minor nobody of a nobody house despite being the greatest financial and political…And artistic, lets not be overmodest…Genius of the seven kingdoms…The man who should be King…Despised, excluded…A poor little orphan boy who never had a chance but what he made…
"Excuse me, go on…" he wiped at a tear…
"Yesss…" Ser Treacherous repressed a frown…Self-pitying little wuss…
"In fact, the Queen urged it. Joffrey is out of the succession and Tommen is now heir."
"Tommen? Nice kid." Petyr noted. "You know, he always has a smile for everybody. Even Bob likes him. But damn it, as king, with Tywin Lannister and Addams to guide him…He'll be a success…Everyone will love him and the prosperity Lannister and Addams will bring. And with Lannister, Addams, and Barftheron united…"
"Poop on your chances, milord, yes." Ser Treacherous nodded. "Still Addams and Lannister may dispute over control of the new coal resource."
"MY COAL!" Middlefinger cried. "Bad enough we'll have political stability for at least a generation but between the two of them, with Tommen's approval, they'll stripe me of all the lands I've illegally acquired, maybe even the legal ones. My empire will crumble before tis even begun…"
"It does look bad, milord…" Which is why after I get my payoff, I'm planning to offer my services elsewhere, Treacherous thought.
Heck, look at me…I'm no shakes as a knight or guardsman…I survive by selling info to the highest bidder. Stick with what yer good at, that's my motto. Now Middlefinger here oughta forego politics and stick with his brothels and art…He's unsurpassed there.
"No matter, no matter…I have alternatives, back up plans…" Middlefinger nodded.
Ok, I got nothing…It was all riding on Cersei bumping off Robert and Joffrey plunging the Kingdom into civil war.
Still, Joff's still alive, not blinded or mutilated or anything…Free…Hmmn. Where there's no death or mutilation to put one out of the royal running…There's hope.
"And no action…Physically…Against Joffrey?"
"The old Valerian way? No, sir. Foolish, if you ask me. He's bound to make trouble and being such a sneaky little psycho…"
"Indeed…" Belloq beamed. "My sneaky little psycho…"
…
"Your wife is so charming, Admiral…" Melisande noted as she and Davos continued their stroll, she beaming to guests and greeting, chatting with a few, he bowing stiffly.
"She's a fine woman. Too good for me."
"Beautiful as well…I'd no idea how much so, even with those spectacles…"
"Aye. I'm a fortunate man. Blessed by the gods. And the spectacles only make her look more intelligent and wondrous…"
"Indeed, yes…And indeed you are fortunate. And yet, you've had to overcome so much. You know, Admiral…You remind me of a man I knew once…Who also had much to overcome and yet had great blessings. And of course, you're an honorable one…Who never be open to…" she began, shyly…
"My Lord!" a messenger had entered the hall. "News from the capitol!"
Stanislaw hurrying over, apologizing to Marya and Morbid…A note thrust into his hands which he scanned briefly, then intently.
"All my counselors…With me…Emergency meeting!" he called. "Sorry for cutting the party short, folks…Go on enjoying yourselves."
"Whilst you can…" he eyed Melisande coldly.
Uh-oh…She blinked.
….
"This is grim news, indeed." Lord Stanislaw frowned…Generally, round his table of Counselors, then, specifically, at his High Priestess.
"My brother and his Queen reconciled and no freakin' chance of civil war with the Lannisters likely? Melisande?"
Uh, 'High Priestess Melisande', suppose lets keep those official titles…She eyed Stanislaw nervously.
"I seem to remember you assuring me the Light Lord had predicted a final break between the King and Queen, resulting in tragedy and civil war, fomented by the actions of his Hand. Leading to my rise as his Anointed One." Frown.
Ummn…Well, my predictions were just projections, based on outcomes dealing with Ned Stark becoming Hand.
How's I to know the damned fool would go get himself poisoned by Ser Walter Frey…And that bizarrely random element, Gomez Addams, would enter the fray…
"On the basis of which I not only risked my brother's suspicious wrath by heavily arming my forces and rallying my bannerpeople…And making overtures to my brother the poof Rently and his people…" Nod to the pleased famed female knight Brienne of Tarth, surnamed with snide glee…The "Plain" by several male knightly colleagues, standing by on guard duty.
Hmmn…Several considering. Actually, in the flesh and that rather fetching armor…And when she's smiling like that… She's really rather lovely in her way…Not to mention very well read, a good conversationalist, and warm-hearted toward the poor, destitute, and ill. And well able to second, heck, first, one in battle…
Adding her family's lands in the mix…If I weren't scared to death of her when she gets that grim, "you don't really like me, you just want to use me to get close to Lords Rently and Stanislaw…" killer look…
"…But I've been allowing you to put quite a few so-called heretics to gruesome deaths because you said the Light Lord would favor me. This don't look to me like favor, Melisande."
Again, no title…It's looking like it's back to the brothel or more likely the torture chamber if I don't come up with something big. Come on, LL, your devoted priestess needs a little help here…
At last…The reign of terror is ending…Several seated notables, Brienne, various knights, attendants, silently breathing sighs.
"Not at all my Lord…" Melisande, quickly…Rising from her seat. "We must put this into context and ask, what is the Light Lord saying to us here?"
"It seems he be sayin'…" Admiral Ser Davos eyed her from his chair… "I don't give a flyin' f- for ye and yours, missy. No offense, Lords."
All eyes on Melisande…She giving gracious smile…Patronizing smile…
"It might seem so to those not touched by His grace, Admiral…" she beamed.
Gods, er, Light Lord, you may be about to get me killed but your manly forthrightness bowls me over every time. Only my Tyrion could match you for such…Till he betrayed and abandoned me…
Unless of course he was deceived…I mean, anything's possible…Say, LL, you might consider giving me some flashback insight there…
Though that's not to be confused with the miracle I desperately need right now if I'm to go on serving you and your Faith…And avoid a gruesome death after considerable torture.
"…But…" she continued, maintaining tolerantly patronizing air. "For those who love and know Him, these events are a sign…"
"A sign of what, girl? That I'm screwed?!" Stanislaw, glaring…
Uh-oh…Now I'm demoted to 'girl'… As in, "take that 'girl' to the torture chamber and after you guards get through with her…"
Help me, LL…Hep me, hep me…
"I think, perhaps, my Lord…" Lord Weathercock, of the shifting sand Weathercock islands, her most recent and opportunistic convert, eyeing her coolly.
A quarter of my revenues in tithe to your crazy passel of freaks and losers to 'prove my devotion to the Faith'? Up yours, bitch…
"The time has come to consider whether some of the followers of this new 'faith'…" Heavy irony on the 'faith'… "May have let their enthusiasm…"
"My Lord!" a messenger had burst into the chamber…Several guards drawing swords, Brienne already on the poor, now terrified, man…
"Tis all right, Brienne…Guards…I know this man. Rise, Sedrick and speak…" Stanislaw addressed the messenger.
"Yes, thanks to your Grace…Sir, I bring tidings of likely civil war in the capital between the new Hand Lord Addams and the Lannisters…" he gasped out.
Holy Jesus…Sorry, LL…Hosanna in the Highest! Melisande raised eyes heavenward as the other counselors looked at each other in astonishment…Then nervously at her.
"…And it would be utterly wrong to think so, praise be to the Light Lord and his High Priestess." Weathercock hastily veered direction, beaming at Melisande…Sweat popping all over…
I'm so joyfully relieved, I'm only going to make you grovel to me with fear a bit and confirm that tithing, Weathercock you windfucker…Melisande sighed, delightedly.
Hell, if I got you condemned, your rivals would divvy up most of your stuff anyway before I could get my cut, er…Bequest.
"Seriously?" Stanislaw eyed Sedrick who nodded. "Wow. High Priestess, I apologize if I showed doubt…I have to be pragmatic about things sometimes, you know."
"No problem, my Lord. The Light Lord expects you to be uncertain at times. That's why I'm here, to guide you on the True Path." She nodded.
And for the moment, I seem to be stumbling onto it ok, myself, she thought…
Gods…Er, Light Lord…What dear Tyrion would make of this little scene? His rendition, complete with mimicking everyone here, including me, would have me peeing on the chamber floor with glee.
Gods…I mean, God, Light Lord…Whatever…Even if my thirst for vengeance is unquenchable, I miss that little imp of mine so…
Maybe he really didn't know a thing about it and just had to go along with the gang rape…He could have been saving me again, from his father's wrath…Maybe?
Anyway, I did end up at my family's brothel after I had nowhere else to go…Heck I even sank to…Dare I say it?
Acting…
Before I found the Light Lord…And an incredibly well-connected, rich, and incredibly vain, despite his air of being the 'plain and conscientious reformer', backer.
One could argue we've both made mistakes in our marriage…And once I take out his vicious dad…
Unless of course the good Admiral might possibly reconsider…She eyed Davos as he frowned at the nervous courtiers trying to catch Melisande's eye to pledge their immediately renewed support to her.
Arggh…Wussies…Have ye never head yet of coincidence?
…..
Joffrey…Striding the Throne Room, empty but his appreciative Sansa…And one other, in the far rear…Striding as well.
Joffrey, singing:
"I thought you the one who loved me…But you pulled a sneak attack…
You swore you'd nurse me to the throne…Now you've stabbed me in the back.
Betrayed…By my own mother, I'm betrayed!"
Jamie…The other strider:
"Like Samson and Delilah, your love began to fade…
Now I'm stuck in the Kingsguard, and it's Bob who's getting laid…
Betrayed…By my lover sister, I'm betrayed…"
Chorus, Jamie and Joffrey:
"Boy, I have I been taken…
Oy, I'm so forsaken…"
Jamie: I should have seen what came to pass…"
Joffrey: "I should have known to watch my ass…"
Jamie: "I feel like Othello, everything is lost…
Cersei my Iago, Jamie's double-crossed
I'm so dismayed, did I mention I'm betrayed?"
Joffrey, Sansa trying to comfort, he glaring:
"I used to be the king but now I am the fool…
All because I whacked some stupid little peasantrary fool…"
Jamie:
"Now I might as well be in jail and there's no one who will pay my bail…"
Joffrey:
"I have no one who I can cry to, no one I can say goodbye to…
(But, darling…Sansa tried.)
Jamie:
"Now you've run to Robert and you're safely out of reach
I'm stuck in this armor, you're banging Bobbie on the beach…"
Both:
"Just like Julius Caesar was betrayed by Brutus
Who'd think my own mother/sister would turn out to be my Judas
I'm so dismayed, is this how I'm repaid?
To be betrayed, betrayed…Betrayed!"
"Never by me, Joff!" Sansa, grabbing at his feet. He frowning at her…
Still…She did have the right idea before with that realpolitik speech.
"Seriously disturbed that girl…" Jamie had come up from the back. "I'd guess her parents' sudden and suspicious deaths and the dissolution of her family's kinda driven her a bit your way, Joff."
"You get away! My Prince is harmonizing his furious wrath!" Sansa confronted Jamie, who shook head, grinning.
"Definitely your type, kiddo. A real keeper."
"Uncle Jamie?" Joffrey stared.
"Loser nephew…" Jamie nodding, unable to resist…
Sansa, renewed glare…
On the other hand, that "keeper" thing…Acceptance by my new family…
…..
…..
Chambers of Lord Rently in the Redder Keep…
Where he and Ser Lotus Markwell are "in conference"…As several of Rently's remarkably handsome young guards joke to each other.
"You mean we really are in conference…?" an astonished Rently in nightgown stared at the seated Ser Lotus in his dashing courtier's garments…A black sash now prominent…
More important, it's still in place…
My Lady Wednesday's gift, Lotus'd noted.
"My Lord we have much matter to discuss…"
"Yeah, but I thought…" Rently paused. "The matter could rest a bit…In my bedchamber."
"Rent…If you want to be King…And I think you do…"
"Sure, but…" wheedling tone… "Surely we could discuss these matters in my bedchamber more securely..."
"We're more likely secure right here, in the conference room where we have bodyguards sweeping for spies." Lotus calmly pointed out. Moving closer to speak softly…"We've no time for such distraction, my Lord. Besides…I'm engaged now." Solemn look as he pulled back before Rently could try and plant one.
"Yeah…So…?" the disappointed Rently…No smooches?...Blinked. "An arranged marriage…Heck, I'll have to have one someday soon…"
"I hope that you will. I still think Margeary Anne Boelyn an excellent choice for you." Lotus nodded. "She'd connect our families, she's brilliant and well-educated, and she's sweet as pie despite having much of my grandmother's shrewd eye. She'd make you a wonderful wife."
"She's the least barfable…If I must." Rently shrugged.
"I really think she'd make you happy, if you'd give her the chance…" Markwell eyed him. "I'd like to see you happy and settled down, as I soon hope to be."
"There's only one person who can do that, Lot…" Rently, winsome look.
Wait a minute…He stared.
"Are you saying…Lot? You like that little chit of a girl?"
Lotus, shrugging…"She saved my life, Rent. And when I saw her, hoping all over the Heavy…And so damned beautiful hoping mad, all for me…Well, a guy can't help but appreciate that kind of devotion. Plus, she's smart and clever and really a nice kid once you get past her forbidding exterior and the crazy but wealthy and powerful family. I mean…I'll always love you, my Lord. As my best friend and truest brother… And my sword and life are at your service as always…"
"You like her…" Rently glared. "How can you do this to me? Lot? After all we've been to each other?"
"As you say, my Lord…Barftheron Lord or King, you'll have to marry someday. As do I, for the good of our House. Now, Rent. Don't grudge me the fact that I rather like the girl I must wed."
"I can't believe this!" Rently rose, pacing… "I give you my whole heart, my deepest love…"
"Oh, don't be a drama queen about it." Lotus sighed. "Sexuality is a spectrum. Even you've occasionally checked out a girl or two."
"To cover for our love, no other reason…" Rently fumed. "How can you abandon me for that little glass of milk, that silly little girl…Lot…" he reached to him.
"My Lord. You are speaking of my betrothed." Ser Lotus stood stiffly.
"What? Now you're standing on your honor…For her? Oh, this is a nightmare…Wake me, wake me!" Rently, pinching himself all over.
"Will you stop? We have a kingdom to play for. Now either you're the compassionate but firm and competent ruler I saw in you or…Shall I simply leave you to indulge your whining and hope King Robert's new hand, my father-in-law can pull things together, with my help." Stern look.
"You'd abandon me?" Rently eyed him.
"I'm trying to make you King. If you have the guts. Now pull yourself together and lets discuss what's to be done."
"There's nothing to be done. The Lannisters and Bob are in control and Tommen will be King, a reasonably sane and likeable one. There's no opening for me, now."
"Tommen's a dear kid but he's not King material. Nor is he King yet. And there's new trouble between the Lannisters and the Hand, the new one." Lotus, careful stare. "Now are you willing to sit down and listen or do I go running to my new soon-to-be father-in-law to warn him of potential trouble? Which I will do, but after we talk…If you'll settle down…"
Rently sighing, taking seat…Well…
If one can't have love…Kingdoms aren't a bad sub…It worked for most of the Targaryens and for Bob for seventeen years.
And nothing says Ser Lotus can't be my most trusted friend and advisor, at my beck and call 24/7…Say at various isolated hunting lodges.