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 XLV…
Storming Out, seat of the Barftherons…
Damn…Stanislaw Barftheron at colossal desk, granite top formed from slab of block of one of the old Targaryen fortresses he'd captured during the last war, glared at the herald just admitted.
From the look of him, without even a word, my brother's guy…
I mean, I love Rently…So long as he never challenges me for the succession…But, look at the tights on that clown of his.
Purple expandex? Cross-gartered?
And the sequins…Really, bro?
You know the only reason this sort of thing slips by at the capital is that Bob is far too bull-headed and one-tracked to be curious let alone understand this sort of thing…And instinctively treats any hint of criticism of Rently as a challenge to him.
Though it was hilarious that time you put sequins on his shield, just before he headed out at the start of the last war, telling him it was to reflect light into his enemies' eyes in order to blind them.
God knows it did bring them up short…Some do say it's how we won at the Trident…And the Crescent…
"My gracious Lord Stanislaw…I am here, with this most noble knight…" indicating large companion in gleaming armor…
Hmmn, nearly as bright as Jamie Lannister's suit…Or Melisande's pyres…Stanislaw blinked, holding hand to shield eyes…
"…Captain of the most noble Prince Rently's guard…Rently, your most royal brother and devoted aide to our most glorious King Robert I Barftheron. King of the most glorious…"
"Yes, yes…So my brother's come?" Stanislaw frowned. "He might of warned me he was coming to visit."
"He could not restrain himself from another chance to see his boyhood home and you, most noble Lord Barftheron, his most royal brother…For even another day…" hand flourish.
"He was here a week ago…" sigh.
"He could not bear the grief of being away from you, his most royal brother, and his old home…"
"Really? He seems to like to flee to the capital as fast as he comes back here whenever he has to come for ceremonies or to pick up his share of the tax revenues. Is this about something…?"
"My gracious lord…" mincing bow, wide smile… "It could not be for such as me to say…"
"It's an important matter to Lord Rently, my lord…" the tall knight intoned, a somewhat higher-pitched one than the size would have suggested. "If I might…"
The herald frowning…
"Yes, yes, anything to speed this along…" Stanislaw sighed.
God, what nonsense is that brother of mine up to now, just when things seem, albeit slowly, moving my way a bit, according to my high priestness…
Still, that captain of his guard with said poppinjay is one formidable-looking so…Whoa…He blinked as the prince's guard captain removed…Her…Helmet…Blonde hair falling in short cut…
My Gods…He looked up at her from his seat as she nodded to him.
It's…A woman…
Tres formidable woman…
Admittedly not the loveliest nymph in the Seven and the Far North One Pending Recognition Kingdoms but there sure is a lotta woman there…And we Barftherons have a well-noted thing for big girls.
Gee…
Could Bob and I have misread things with Rently?
Maybe he's bi, after all…?
"My gracious lord…Forgive my interruption of the formalities…" somewhat high-pitched but excellent diction. "I am Anna Brienne Eleanor of Roosevelt, new captain of Prince Rently's guard."
Lovely eyes…Of course those buckteeth could bite through a picket fence but when she smiles, not bad. Not bad at all…Uh…
"Yes…Well…"
The herald frowning at her regards the said interruption…
"Prince Rently will be here shortly to meet with you to discuss important matters related to the sudden recent changes in the government…" Brienne Eleanor explained.
Oh, right…Spew it all right out, just like that…The herald frowned.
That's real shrewd politics for our beloved Rently.
"Hardly seems necessary…" Stanislaw frowned. "Joff the bastard…Literally as well as figureatively…Is out and Tommen the nicer bastard is in."
"I could not say, my Lord." Brienne Eleanor noted quietly.
"Still, it is one f-ing potentially fast-moving time politically. And since he decided to come regardless of my comfort or request…" sigh.
"If I may check security, my lord…Before his Grace your brother comes…"
"Hmmn? Rently comes every few months without incident." Stanislaw looked at the knight who gave him respectful nod.
"Of course, my lord…I meant no criticism…But as Lord Rently's Captain, it's my duty to see that all is to my satisfaction for his safety."
Loves him…The herald mouthed, with lewd grin…Isn't it the cutest thing?
Though really, so…The herald pulled back as Brienne Eleanor turned to regard him narrowly.
"Yeah, sure…Do a sweep, my…Lady…" Stanislaw nodded. "It's not a bad idea to have a newcomer review my people's arrangements. Bring a little Kings' Landing spit and polish…" Slight thaw of smile.
Poor thing, damn it…As Brienne Eleanor eagerly began checking the room and giving orders to several guards in her team who snapped to attention and began carefully checking round as Stanislaw's own guards looked just a bit peeved at the fancy-schamcy security staff from the capital. Bringin' their fancy-schamcy ways…
She's good, no question…As she rapped on his secret panel door on the wall behind his desk, eyeing him at the hollow sound. Stanislaw pulling cord to open…
"Always gotta have an escape route…" he noted.
"Of course, my Lord. I'll just check the passageway, with your permission?" He nodded to her look, she quickly entering, sword from her side holster drawn.
Quite a girl…Hope Rently hasn't been playing with her heart just for appearances…
Or to get back at Ser Lotus...Sigh.
"The course of true love, my lord…Never smooth…" the herald, sliding up to his desk, lewd whisper.
"You know we can always use extra sacrifices around here for our new God's pyres…" Stanislaw eyed him coldly, the herald blanching. "Where is my brother?"
"Uh, just outside the citadel with our people, my Lord. Captain my Lady insisted he await her checking the situation."
"People? How many people?" Stanislaw stared. "We are in the midst of a slight food shortage here, right now, due to our last poor harvest. Tell me he did think to bring the supplies I sent for from the capital?"
"Just a herald, my Lord…" nervous smile. "Not really in on such things..."
"That fire which burns brightest is also the most short…" Melisande, entering dressed in her formal red robes, smiled at the herald.
Uh…? Is that good or bad for me? Him? The herald and Stanislaw respectively wondered.
….
Secret conference chamber in the bowels of the Middlefinger Entertainment Palace…
"So, you see your Grace…" Middlefinger drew on parchment with quill... "The road to the Iron Throne leads through these crucial figures."
"My parents are the ones who decide the succession you twit." Joffrey fumed. "Who cares what these dweebs think? The Captain of the City Guard…oooh… Sir Bartered Sellsme. The chief of the Merchants' Guild…The Lord High Admiral of the Westeros fleet. The Chief Justice of the Courts… The Iron Bank board…The Master of the Coin…"
"Joff?" Sansa hissed.
Hmmn…Oh, right.
"'Dweebs'…Myself and all these and the other key figures I've discussed may be, your Grace…" suave tone. "But essential dweebs if you are to achieve the throne and more importantly, hold it."
"Mass murder and terror will hold a throne…" Joffrey insisted. "It worked for 300 years for the Targaryens, even if Father slacked off a bit."
"Well, how you hold it is of course your Grace's business…" Middlefinger smiling, put up a hand. "My task will be to help you retake your throne."
"Well, duh…" Joffrey groused.
"Your Grace…" Sansa put a hand on his arm. "Lord Belloq, we don't argue your expertise on the power structure of the kingdom. Our question is, however, is not the central issue the decision of the King?"
"Oh, it is…Of course it is…" he nodded. "But King's decisions are not simply the decisions of a single man."
"Yeah, Mom has a big say these days…" Joffrey nodded.
"Yeess…" smile. "As do all these others and the leaders of the great Houses and…"
"No great House got me knocked off the list…" Joffrey pointed out. "And Dad won't be led by them. He'd destroy them all first."
"Actually, your Grace…They do lead, to some extent. At least your father must take them into consideration. If some choose to take your side…Along with the other individuals I've mentioned...It would certainly influence his thinking on the matter."
"Or make him so angry he might have me exiled or worse…"
We can but hope…Middlefinger thought, patient look.
"His Highness has a valid point…" Sansa, quick, hard look at Middlefinger.
I smell the set up, pal…
"The trick, of course…" Middlefinger, suavely… "Is to enlist all or many of these powerful players on your side without antagonizing your royal father. They must persuade, not challenge."
Like Bob Barftheron could ever be "persuaded", he chuckled inwardly.
The moment he gets wind of this little conspiracy, your head's on a platter, you prick, he eyed Joffrey.
Still, must proceed delicately. The goals being to unsettle the Kingdom, destroy Lord Gomez, unseat the King, deliver Joffrey to his deserts…The one reasonably unselfish thing in all this…While masking my role here and getting Sansa to see my nice side.
I mean, hey…This is a medieval era. Fortyish guys and fourteen year olds hook up all the time, even outside my brothels.
Why am I feeling so…Eehew…? Sansa wondered.
"Just how do we 'enlist' these jerks for me?" Joffrey asked. "I've no longer got access to steady, if borrowed, streams of gold and favors, you know."
"But you have me, Sire." Smile. "And I do…" Leer…
Gotta try that leer of his…I have never gotten the leer thing quite right…Joffrey eyed him.
They say he is a maester at it.
"And what would you require in return for such generous assistance?" Sansa cut in, hard stare at Middlefinger.
"Only the gracious thanks of my Soverign…Perhaps a few minor monopolies, some deregulatory legislation…Oh, and a royal pardon for any…" he wiggled fingers. "'Exceptional' financial and political actions I might take to provide said assist."
"Done." Sansa, before Joffrey could indulge in a standard grouse before folding.
"And there is the matter of bringing down Lord Addams, our clever new Hand…" Middlefinger noted. "He's far too dangerous to our plans to leave in power."
Really? He seems brilliantly capable and rather objective, actually. If I weren't a total psychopath I'd probably want him for my chief advisor, Joffrey thought.
"And just who would you replace him with?" Sansa eyed Middlefinger…
"You, my Lord?" cool stare.
"If called upon, it would be my duty, and an honor and privilege, my Lady." Slight bow.
Hmmn…Even I know that's…Joffrey thought…
"Done, as well…My Lord Hand…" Sansa, cool smile.
What…Hey…Joffrey frowned. Glaring at her…
I'm the heir and almighty King to come…I make the decisions!
On the other hand…She has been right on everything so far…And that look she's giving me suggests she has something in mind.
Like my favorite indoor sport, betrayal…?
Gods, she's good at this…Both he and Middlefinger eyeing her appreciatively.
"There is also the need to deal with Lord Verysmuch…The Master of Shadows. He is also a threat, dedicated as he claims to be to your father, I suspect he has his own agenda."
"I'll have his balls in…!" Joffrey began. "Oh…Right…That was a bit cruel, I suppose."
(Little putz…Verysmuch frowns in his office. But you'll all be eating shit or my jarred balls soon enough. Though I might allow for psychological trauma in Lady Sansa's case, poor thing.)
"He must be dealt with quickly." Middlefinger nodded. "For the good of the realm of course."
(You vicious little prick…Verysmuch glaring. And here I thought we were friendly enemies. You know, the type who banter witty sarcasms and cleverly intriguing spoilers. This cuts me. Not as deep as, you know… But it cuts me.
I mean, sure…I mean to have you quietly or publicly killed too, but not till we've had a real chance to play the game out like gentlemen. I really thought you had more style…)
"Certainly…My Lord." Sansa nodded. "But how can we undermine and destroy the King's spymaster and his chief minister and best friend\?"
"Time and patience, my girl…Sire… But already an opportunity opens for us. The Lord Hand leaves for the North in a day or two. And with him away, isolated from the King…"
Mucking about in my coal country…
"Ok, good…Action…I like it…" Joffrey nodded. "But are we killing the Hand or Lord Verysmuch first? I've some neat ideas regards the eunich."
(Say what? Verysmuch, blinking…)
"Joff…" Sansa, cautioning…
"Oh, I don't mean to break the King's law regards hate crime. Till I abolish it." Joffrey noted. "I just mean he doesn't seem the type likely to endure torture well…"
"Oh, he might surprise you, your Grace." Middlefinger, careful smile. "Like me, he has known much adversity…As when I grew up in the Arm and Wrist, the smartest…"
(Oh, not again…Verysmuch sighs)
"Yeah, yeah…" Sansa nodded. "So, as His Highness asked, who's first?"
"I say Baldy!" Joffrey cried.
"I think the Lord Hand is the more immediate threat. And more easily dealt with…" Middlefinger, calmly insistent. "Lord Verysmuch is useful to us for now as the finest information source in the Seven and that pending one in the North."
(Well, thanks…That was the sort of graciousness I've come to expect from you, ole frienemy, Verysmuch nods.)
….