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?
[Note to my would-be editor: Nope, Khanessi, not Khalessi here…Stanislaw not Stannis, etc. But I'll bet I did spell Lannister wrong somewhere in here, so you're welcome to check through for that as well. No, the job is still not yours. Though I might reconsider for a modest fee of 2000-3000 and a contract stating I remain totally unobligated to accept your corrections and suggestions.]
Part LIII…
Royal Pavilion outside the Redder Keep where Queen Cersei I and King Robert I waited to see off their Lord Hand Addams and his fair if somewhat morbid Lady on their inspection trip to the North, Wall, and Far North. Acting Lord Hand Lannister beside Robert, Maester Purile next to him, Verysmuch to his right… A friendly if somewhat depressed…The new Hand having already won most hearts with his reconciling of the royals, tax policy, initial social legislation, reorganization of the local police, and above all, the deposition of Prince Joffrey from the succession…Crowd…
I mean talk about a successful first 30 days, let alone 100, all agreed…
So that there were many long faces, glad as they were to cheer the Hand on…
Geesh…Verysmuch looking a bit downcast himself…
Petyr's going too…Sharing the risk and that awful cold, like a good and faithful public servant, even if he plots the ruin of the Kingdom. Might be nice if someone showed a little concern for the poor fellow, even if he does go on a bit too much about his poor upbringing and such…
"Gomez? Ready to get your show on the road and leave the cesspit here?" Robert called to Addams, now on horseback in traveling jerkin, Morticia beside him on her horse, in lady's riding outfit, naturally all black leather and mooseskin.
"Just waiting for the last of our party, sire."
"We'll miss you…" Cersei noted, standing beside Robert, arm happily as far round his somewhat reduced frame as it could be. "Truly…Take care and come home to us soon."
"We will, your Grace." Gomez nodded. "But I'm leaving you with a most capable Acting Hand in Lord Tyrion."
"Indeed…" Cersei beamed at Tyrion who blinked a bit…
Still a bit shocking…I always thought there might be a reconciliation if Rob here ever sobered up for a few but to have her finding me tolerable, even showing fondness…Bit of a stunner…
"I'll do my best to live up to your success, Lord Addams. But the King and my dear sister his Queen will no doubt hold all together well, I can only hope to lift their burdens a bit."
"We'll look into the firepowder and wildfire production thing while you're away, Gomez!" Robert called. "I think Cerse has made a terrific start with the wildfire and we'll see firepowder goes into full production as well. By the time you're back, this Kingdom will be ready for anything that Targaryen kid can hurl, dragonwise."
Bobbie…Cersei beamed shyly…
"Can't wait to have a look at the factories myself…" Tyrion noted. "But I'll be excited to see this railroad thing of yours underway, Gomez! I've seen your model version, it really should be marvelous for linking the Kingdom South to farthest North."
"I hope so, Lord Tyrion." Gomez smiled. "Feel free to test out the prototype engine as soon as it's cast…"
"Without hesitation, cousin…" Tyrion had come over to the Addams' horses. "Morticia, godsspeed and I hope you sincerely believe there are no hard feelings on my part."
"Thank you, Cousin Imp…" she smiled, offering her hand which he kissed. "How go the wedding plans with your Lady Steph…?"
"Ummn…Still have to broach the matter to Father, I'm afraid. Though Rob and Cersei have promised to back us up. Rob's going to approve the new bill to allow nobles to marry reformed actresses and whores as soon as we have it done up. A recast of the Late Valeyrian Emperor Justinian's bill to marry his own capable cutie, Theodora, way back when. But we can wait…Steph wants the family's blessing, she's an old-fashioned girl." Smile…
"And a most brave and loyal one…" Morticia noted quietly.
"I appreciate that, cuz. Given she's the triplet of the girl who tried to finish off your boy. How are the lads, by the way? I heard they found my saddle design helpful."
"Very much so, thank you, Tyrion." Nod. "They've riding everywhere I understand. Lurch is quite pressed to keep track of them."
"That's good." Beam.
"We're forever grateful to you, old man." Gomez had come over. "In fact your saddle design's inspired to sketch out a few ideas on artificial, mechanical legs. I'll have to go over it all with you when we return."
Alas…I fear such a day may not come…Middlefinger, sniggering…
"Why should it not, Lord Belloq?" Tyrion turned to inquire of him with slight frown.
Oh, damn…I'm doing it again…Middlefinger, sighing.
…..
"Yeeeeeh…Hahhhhh…" the mutual voices of Pugsley Addams and Branded Stark carried across the hills of the borderlands of the Stark and Addams holdings, a somewhat drier piece of ground urged…Read, commanded, at least to their appointed guardian Ser Arnold, on the usual pain of becoming Terminated Terminator IV…Upon them for their riding by Lady Maud.
"Boys…Halt…Mit der whoa!" Ser Arnold, in hot pursuit called. "This ist too fast, you both may fall!"
Und it would not be doing der gutt on to me…He added.
"Pugs! We better pull up…" Branded called. "Pugs! Ser Arnold'll be in hot oil with your grandma if we get hurt!"
Pugsley pressing on, delighting in the wind on hefty face. Heck, never could hope to run so fast on legs in my life…
"Pugs?! Come on…!" Branded had halted, sighing as Ser Arnold reached him. "We've a firepowder arrow test this afternoon!" he tried.
Pugsley unheeding…
"Lord Addams!" Ser Arnold cried, necessity of self-preservation bring to mind the one correct reference… "Dinner!"
"Huh?!" Pugsley, immediately pulling up short. The horse groaning under him, just a bit relieved to at least have stopped though feeling its full burden now. Mediating in horsey fashion on the joys of Death and the hope of horsey paradise, galloping free…Free of about 250 pounds…In pristine meadows…
"Dinner?" Pugsley called back…His redirection of his limited attention causing him to miss the danger creeping upon him…In the form of figures lurking in the nearby stand of trees and bushes.
Reasonably well-armed figures…If a bit weary and worn –down…
…..
"There…" Fearing Greatjerk hissed to his, increasingly so over the past week, motley force. "Young Lord Addams on that poor horse…Branded Stark to his rear…"
"Lord, the poor thing…" his second-in-command, a reasonably physically able if somewhat hapless fellow… "I've few enough men to spare but the dregs, this one's at least commanded ships", Fearing's father had noted on Fearing's expression of concern, Dagwood sighs, shaking head. "It's sheer animal abuse, that's what it is, to have that sack of guts aboard."
"This is our chance…" Fearing notes. "If we seize the boys, we can use them to take Winterfalls or Swampflood…"
"Another brilliant strategic move by our young Napoleon I Targaryen…" the third-in-command, Lorne, a huge hulking fellow, in leather armor, owing to his size, currently kneeling uncomfortably in a ditch, rolling eyes.
"Look, how was I to know the campaign would end before it really began and the Stark-Tully and Addams forces would break off so quickly with peace resecured? I mean, Lady Maud was in command, I figured she'd demand at least one bloodbath with the Lannisters…" Fearing sighed. "But they've not returned yet and both places are yet lightly defended." He noted. "If we can get in quickly, using the boys…"
"Into a neat strategic trap, you mean…" Lorne sighed, shaking head. "We've but thirty men left after your brilliant decision to march across the worst territory in the Kingdoms but for our own Tin Lands, without supplies of food or water…"
"We were traveling light and fast, living off the land…It's a valid military strategy." Fearing, annoyed.
"They do say so in the manuals, Lorne." Dagwood noted.
"F- the damned manuals!" Lorne fumed.
"If you want food and drinkable water, our best chance is to take one of the seats…" Fearing pointed out.
"Well not bloody Swampflood then…Not only is it a wasteland…" Lorne noted with disdain. "But if Lady Maud catches us taking her ancestral seat…"
Shudder at the thought through the meager ranks…
"Winterfalls is the nicer seat, if smaller…" Fearing nodded. "Hot springs, no swamps about…"
"And if Robbed Stark captures us, he's likely to respect the Bravvos Convention on POWs". Dagwood noted. "Or you could just claim, my Lord, we'd come to help out as you'd promised before choosing to betray your trust like a typical sniveling Greatjerk."
"That could work…" Fearing considered. "We could explain we were only protecting the boys, or just kidding about taking them hostage."
"Whatever you two military geniuses plan to do next, do it quick. Fatty looks about to head off…" Lorne pointed at Pugsley.
"Oh-oh…" Dagwood peered across the field. "Ser Arnold's with the other one…The Terminator IV hisself."
"Lovely…He could take four of us single-handedly any day of the week, in our prime with good armor and full bellies and some exercise to work the meal off. The way we are now, after no food and only brackish water for days? Six to seven of us, easily…Mayhaps exceptin' me." Lorne shook head.
"Thanks for volunteering, Lorne." Fearing seized the chance. "Charge Ser Arnold whilst I and half the men take Lord Pugsley and Dagwood takes Branded with the other fifteen… Up lads! Attack! For the honor of House Greatjerk!"
Groans from the weary men who stumbled to their feet…
Pisser…Lorne sighed.
Still, what the hell. Arnold's not a bad sort…If I fall to my knees and surrender abjectly enough when I get near him, I could be sleeping in a straw-mattressed bed with a decent stew for dinner by nightfall. And by next week enrolled in the Stark or Addams guard and out of those pisspots of miserable islands… He rose, raising sword as best he could manage.
"Say, look!" Branded cried to Ser Arnold, pointing at the hulking figure now standing to full height, the effect just a bit mitigated by his standing in the same ditch as he'd been kneeling in.
"Hey, Pugs!" he called. "Lord Addams!" Ser Arnold joined in…Pulling at his horse's reigns to set up a charge.
"Lord Pugsley…" Fearing rising with fifteen men, pleasant tone… "Tis I, your old friend and neighbor hostage, Fearing Greatjerk, back from a visit home. How lovely to see you again. You seem to be getting on famously on horseback now. Have you recovered from that terrible fall?" he approached with his men trailing after as Pugsley eyed him from horse. "We're just now on our way to Winterfalls to add the Greatjerk swords to Robbed Stark's banner…" charming smile.
Pugsley frowning…
Never did like this guy…Even if Robbed Stark seemed to tolerate him at times.
On the other hand, never all that crazy about Robbed…Kinda self-absorbed little…
Plus not only those guys approaching but the fifteen or sixteen charging towards Branded and Ser Arnold kinda belie the pleasant words and admittedly charmin' smile…
"Pugs!" Branded cried. Ser Arnold moving to cover him.
"Go, mine Lord Stark! Ride like der wind! Lord Pugsley?!" he cried, a bit too far to be heard amid the cries and clattering of the Tin Islanders' rather rattlely armor…
Pugsley however had taken counsel of his suspicions anyway and turned to move off as best his weary horse could now manage.
About ten paces, before it collapsed…As Ser Arnold braced to meet the hulking fellow's charge…Hmmn…Vhy ist der fellow falling to der ground, clasping hands as if for der mercy?
"I surrender, my Lord." Lorne cried, clasping hands. "Don't kill me, under the terms of the Bravvos Convention regards abject and cowardly surrender."
"Out of mein way…March to der rear and give youself up to der Swampfell guard." Ser Arnold called, charging past to engage the other fourteen under Dagwood who managed to maintain some semblance of dignity in their halted advance upon the now fleeing Branded.
"With alacrity, Ser Arnold!" Lorne agreed, standing quickly. Ho, boy…Decent food, a real bed, and career opportunity at last, here I come!
"We have Lord Pugsley, Ser Arnold!" Fearing called, indicating his half of the force about Pugsley and his now sadly deceased horse. "Yield or he dies! And you know our words of the Tinners…'What's dead is probably dead!' Yield! Lorne! Take him!"
Oh, shit…Lorne sighed. "Uh, yeah…Sure…" he sighing as Dagwood and the others of his half of the force reached where he'd tried to wait out the outcome before pressing on to Swampflood.
So much for my dreams of a new life…
"…yield, Ser Arnold." He called, raising sword reluctantly.
Well, given young Greatjerk's sure to screw up utterly, if I can survive, there may yet be a chance if I see Terminator IV here safely through it all…
"I pledge to respect all proper conventions…Sorry about this, things change." Lorne nodded. Ser Arnold frowning as a pleased Fearing came up.
"Get after the Stark boy!" Fearing ordered three of his men who sighed…
Just how do we do that? We lost our last horse a day ago, thanks to your amazing lack of logistical common sense so like your father's…One frowned as they tried to move along, Branded on horse quickly outpacing them.
"Very well." Ser Arnold lowered sword. "For der guaranteed safety of mine charge, Lord Addams, I yield to you, you despicable traitor Greatjerk."
"Sticks and stones, Terminator…Sticks…And…Stones…" Greatjerk sneered. "Victory, lads! As I promised!" he raised sword over head.
God, that thing is heavy after all these days in the painful field…He quickly lowered sword.
"Yeah, yeah…" Lorne shook head. We "overcame" one crippled, overweight kid when his horse went down and his sole protector surrendered to protect him…What a victory… "Hadn't we better press on to Winterfalls before Branded Stark gives the alert?" he noted.
Hmmn…Well…Fearing considered. "On, on to Winterfalls!…Or close up the gate and the festering swamps to our Swampflood left with our Tin Island blood!"
Oh, yeah…Sure…Lorne eyed the others who rolled eyes. Dagwood at least trying to look supportive…
Kid's doing his best, Lorne.