Weiss
After Weiss' conversation with Lord Tywin in his solar, he had one of his knights escort her back to her parents. The knight was a large man, a boar of a man one could even say, judging by his clothing being decorated with the image of a black boar. That bad attempt at a pun left a bad taste in Weiss' mouth, that had always been Yang's specialty, before the Fall of Beacon and the loss of her arm. Weiss missed the blonde, and the rest of Team RWBY. Without them, Myrtenaster, and even Dust, it felt like parts of her soul were missing, even if this body never had a chance to grab the handle of her long-lost rapier.
"You're a strange girl." Her Escort spoke up, his voice low yet loud. It sounded as deep as an ocean floor. Ser Lyle Crakehall was among the most famous knights in all the Westerlands, with such a large frame and often clad in heavy plate armor with the surcoat of a black boar. He was often considered second only to Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides in terms of size. The Strongboar looked funny, with a nose that had been broken several times, long black hair and a bushy mustache that connected to his sideburns.
"That wouldn't be the first time today I've been called that, Ser Strongboar." Weiss said with a light giggle. It was a fake giggle, forced and childlike. She had the image of a child to keep up, so Wesis did her best to imitate Ruby from their first semester at Beacon. She ignored the pang of pain in her chest as she did so.
Ser Lyle gave her a brief glance out of the corner of his dark eyes. From an angle, he really did look more boar than human, with his sideburns looking like tusks. He seemed amused at her words. "I mean no offense, my Lady."
"Of course, Ser Strongboar." Weiss bowed her head slightly. She really hoped he also wasn't the opponent chosen by Lord Tywin, Ser Lyle was considered better skilled at arms than the Mountain, who relied on pure strength.
At her full strength, Weiss was confident she could take the both of them on at the same time and win without too much difficulty. In the body of the little girl she had been reincarnated into however, her odds lessened greatly. This body was weak and wasn't used to using a fully unlocked aura for long periods of time. She'd have to put more effort in strengthening both her body, mind and soul once Weiss was done here. It'd take some time, but she would soon be at full strength. Without Myrtenaster and Dust, Weiss was going to have to become creative with her glyphs, using them as best as she could without any witnesses around. Which was going to be an issue, given her father basically had her shadowed by Ser Robart and several guardsmen since the attack on Lannisport.
Ser Lyle puffed his chest up, proud at even a little girl knowing and remembering his moniker of 'Strongboar'. Weiss had a feeling he would've been fast friends with Professor Port, once they got over the cultural differences, with how loud the two of them were. They continued the rest of their walk in an awkward silence, Ser Lyle disinterested in a conversation with a child and Weiss busy with observing any servants that they came across.
That was one way someone could tell how a Lord or Lady treated them, the way they walked, if their bellies were full, how bright or dull their eyes appeared to be. Weiss had to learn that lesson the hard way as the Schnee heiress, before Jacques stripped away the title that had been hers for years, ever since Winter gave it up. She should've done more, treated the faunus that the Schnee Dust Company employed better, and been a better person. Granted, she didn't have much ability to do anything without it being contradicted by Jacques, but still.
Even as the Lady of Lannisport, any changes she made would be relatively small and insignificant, even the reforms done by Aegon the Unlikely were undone after his death, by Tywin no less, but that wouldn't stop Weiss from trying. Rebelling was one of the many things the huntress was good at, every from the way she styled her hair back on, to her music back on Remnant. It was just a matter of figuring out how to rebel in such a way she expressed her displeasure without drawing too much ire. It should be easy enough for her.
No matter what her name was, Schnee, Lannister, or any names she'd have to take on if she got married, there was one thing she knew for certain. She would always be Weiss, and nothing could ever change that, not being stranded in some archaic world, and certainly not an Old Lion.
Lord Tywin was going to have to learn the hard way.
Weiss was eventually led to the room where her parents were waiting, no doubt full of stress and anxiety despite any assurances Ser Gerion had given them. Not that she could blame them, it would be stressful for almost anyone in their position.
"Allow me, my Lady." Ser Lyle opened the heavy door with ease, the knight in shining armor, even if he was wearing leather and linen at the moment. He gave her a crooked smile.
"Thank you, Ser Lyle." Weiss courtseyed with one of her own, prim and proper. Acting like a Lady was the only way she could survive in this world.
The moment she walked into the room and the door behind her closed, her Mother instantly threw her arms around the much smaller girl. Weiss suddenly couldn't breathe for a few seconds, until Mother pulled away, running her soft hands over Weiss' face and dress.
"I am unharmed, Mother." Weiss said, the pitch of her voice higher than usual, since her Mother's hands were pressed against her cheeks. It felt nice being cared for like this, oddly enough.
Mother released a sigh of relief and finally gave Weiss her personal space, allowing her to finally get a glimpse of the room her parents had been waiting in. It was lavishly decorated, though not to the extent of Lord Tywin's solar, yet most of the decorations and furniture in this simple room were more expensive than some poorer lords' entire holdings. Father stood in front of a chair wide enough to hold two people, evidently having just stood up once she entered. His expression was unabashed joy at seeing her safe return.
"Weiss." Father sounded relieved. He quickly approached her and went to one knee, taking one of her hands into his own. Father paused, licking his lips before speaking again. "How did you fare?"
"I fared well." Weiss said with a small smile. It made her feel warm inside whenever her new parents fussed over her. "Lord Tywin summoned me here for a test."
"A test?" It was Mother who spoke this time, her voice shaking a little as she did so. "What kind of test?"
Weiss' smile turned into a grimace. Now this was going to be one of the most awkward conversations she ever had, aside from Klein giving her the 'talk'. No noble family would want to see one of their daughters fight, unless they were Dornish or from the North. Yet, there was a precedent, such as the Lady Blackwood from the Dance, Weiss had dived deep into those records, as preparation for such an event.
"Lord Tywin wishes me to spar with one of his men." Weiss a tad too calmly. Her parents reacted instantly, with fear spreading onto her Mother's face, and Father lighting up with anger.
"Lord Tywin has gone too far!" Father shook with rage. "I shall go and speak with him, this is unacceptable."
Weiss gently grabbed his hand as Father tried walking by. "We both know that's not the best idea." Weiss said softly. Left unsaid was that his position was fragile, and giving Tywin an excuse to remove him would be ill advised. Even if it did feel nice knowing he was willing to risk it all for her.
"He disrespects me as your Father, and as the Lord of Lannisport." Father seethed. It felt weirdly nice having a father figure care for her first, his position second.
"As did the Tarbecks and the Reynes." Weiss countered. "Lady Elyn Reyne had been married to his uncle before his death, yet that didn't stop Lord Tywin from exterminating her and her household." Even if she didn't have any children with Tion Lannister, she had been Lord Tywin's aunt.
Even if she disliked him, Lord Tywin did have a point. The Lannisters of Lannisport couldn't raise as many levies as the other Houses, with many of their men belonging to the City Watch. Their strength was in their fleet and coin made from trade. Most of which was no longer an option, given Lannisport was well, being rebuilt.
"This is still unacceptable." Mother joined Father. "Perhaps we should appeal to King Robert?"
Ah yes, good King Robert who was married to Lord Tywin's daughter. He wasn't going to be able to do anything, and if he did, it would backfire on them the moment the war was over and King Robert left. Worse, all that means is Tywin would get creative, which would be far worse.
Father shook his head, both of his hands clenched into fists at the situation. "No, Lord Tywin is his good-father."
A silence overcame them for a few seconds, while Mother held Weiss in her arms in a light embrace, ensuring that skin met skin. Mother, while scared, didn't seem too surprised when Weiss revealed the true nature of Lord Tywin summoning them. She did see the aftermath of the fighting, and saw a bloodied Weiss standing amongst the carnage. Perhaps she opened her eyes and saw Weiss kill those Ironborn?
"You saw what happened to those men, didn't you Mother?" Weiss said, the childlike energy she had been trying to manifest disappearing in an instant. Father flinched, which meant Mother had told him about what had happened. Great, just what she needed. What else was going to go wrong for her? A plague of locusts? Sentient rat men digging their way out from underneath Lannisport?
"Y-Yes." Mother looked away, refusing to meet Weiss' eyes. Was Mother scared of her? That made Weiss feel guilty, and anxious that her fears would be coming true. Father remained silent, observing their conversation. She didn't want this, she loved her parents, a sentence she hadn't thought since she was a child back in Remnant.
"Are you scared of me, Mother?" Those words left Weiss' lips before she knew what she was saying. Father immediately dropped to one knee and placed a hand on her shoulder. It weighed on her, both physically, and mentally, knowing she was keeping so much hidden from them. It sickened her, yet at the same time, was necessary for their survival, and hers.
They could never know about her past life.
"No." Mother said, her voice sounding like a breath. "Our survival was an answer from the Seven, they blessed you and gave you the strength to protect us." Mother's voice cracked near the end. Weiss couldn't get a good look at her face, but it sounded like she was starting to cry. She resisted the urge to start crying as well.
"We would never be fearful of you, Weiss." Father said. If Weiss had been born a man, they wouldn't have been having this conversation. Her parents wrapped her in a warm embrace, comforting her as best they could.
"Good." Weiss sighed. Her parent's words had been comforting at least, and she knew once they got back home, odds are life would not go back to how it was. "I will face Lord Tywin's champion and win." She didn't give her parents any room to argue.
Weiss kinda felt bad for the poor bastard she'll be fighting.
Lord Tywin provided clothes to fight in, which was perfectly fine in Weiss' opinion as long as they fit her. They didn't. The trousers were too big, the legs baggy and tailored for someone with much thicker legs. The doublet, with a small lion sewed on, was just as ill fitting, with longer sleeves and was tight around her chest. It almost felt like Weiss was given these as an insult, which it probably was. Or could be another test, to see how she can handle herself in ill fitting clothes. Either way, the clothes made her look like an idiot, but in the end that would mean nothing, Weiss would still beat her opponent's ass.
Ser Lyle returned as her escort and kept giving her amused side glances. She doubted Lord Tywin gave him much information outside of escorting her to the chosen training yard, but that was still a testament to his loyalty to the Lord of the Westerlands. If nothing else, Tywin could pick good loyal men.
"Don't hurt him too badly, my Lady." Ser Lyle said, stopping at the exit that would lead them to the training yard. He had a smash of pig fat on his cheek, likely from a thick slice of bacon. She knew that he was making fun of her, but it didn't matter.
Weiss knew what she was capable of.
"I will do my best." Weiss played along for now. She still had no idea who she was facing. It couldn't have been the Mountain or any of his more elite knights, Tywin wanted a test, not a body. So who could it be? If he had her fight any captured Ironborn, he'd alienate Father even if Lord Tywin was the Shield of Lannisport. She considered it being her cousin, the Imp, but disregarded that. Beating up a dwarf wasn't exactly very useful for Tywin, and she had never met him before.
Ser Lyle opened the door, swinging it open revealing the sunny training yard. "After you, my Lady."
The Strongboar followed her a few seconds later. The training yard chosen was private, hidden deep within the halls of Casterly Rock, and away from any prying eyes. It was a large square room carved into the rock with an opening in the roof to allow sunlight in. The room was sparsely furnished, mostly consisting of racks full of blunted and live-steel weapons lining the walls. The training yard was built more like a coliseum, with raised seatings on three sides.
There were already people gathered. Lord Tywin sat at the highest chair, in a fine wooden seat that looked like it was overlaid with gold. Father and another Lannister, likely one of his brothers, sat beside him. Mother was the only woman present, and was seated at Father's left. Unlike everyone else, both of her parents appeared nervous, but Mother wasn't hiding it as easily as her husband.
An ugly, pig faced man was already waiting for her. He wore boiled leather under a heavy hauberk, more armored than Weiss, but no doubt slower. A steel half-helm sat upon his head. The Knight, judging by the manticore on his shield, was none other than Ser Amory Lorch, one of Lord Tywin's closest men. The Strongboar was likely present to stop the butcher from going too far in attempting to injure Weiss.
It didn't matter, Weiss was going to leave here without a scratch. The same could not be said about 'Ser' Lorch. She wondered if this was deliberate, a tool had finally proven to be not worth the headaches, so he was being sent to the slaughterhouse?
"A child?" Weiss heard Lorch complain under his breath, his voice high and sounding like a pig's squeal. She could tell this was going to be very cathartic for her, and likely for more than a few other people in the audience. His brutality was well known throughout the Westerlands, second only to Ser Gregor Clegane. She could use that against him, playing up her age and lack of strength to catch him off guard.
"A pig?" Weiss retorted. Ser Amory Lorch's pink skin turned a shade of red, starting from his ears. Even if he was sworn directly to Casterly Rock, the Lorchs were still just a knightly house. If that, their sole claim to fame was having a monster like Amory signed with Tywin.
"Choose your weapons so we may begin." Ser Lyle boomed, after receiving a signal from Lord Tywin, it was simple and barely noticeable, but Weiss saw it. It was the way the Old Lion tapped the side of his chair. This was a very smoothly laid out operation, she had to admit. She won, he lost nothing of real value, and if she lost, well, a message would be sent, one way or another.
Giving Lorch a discreet smirk, Weiss made her way to the blunted weapon rack, her sapphire blue eyes scanning each weapon.
Hmmm, who should she choose? The tall blonde? The brunette? Or the redhead? Weiss always did have a soft spot for redheads.
She wished Ruby was here.
Dramen
This entire affair was an insult to the Lannisters of Lannisport, an insult to Dramen, and an insult to his family. Yet, how could he disobey? To disobey meant death or extreme punishment, not just for Dramen, but for his family as well. Casterly Rock could instantly put Lannisport to siege, and without the docks and his fleet, Dramen's family would starve or be taken into the Rock in chains after the smallfolk would inevitably betray them. And that was before Lannisport had fallen under his watch. No, he would have to sit and bear it, at least for now. But a Lannister always paid his debts, be he from Casterly Rock or Lannisport.
Lord Tywin was insane, choosing a butcher like Lorch to face his daughter in single combat. The knight, no, not knight, the very beast that had butchered Princess Rhaenys during the Sack of King's Landing. It took all of Dramen's self control to not try and strangle his liege lord and cousin for putting his daughter in danger. If he tried, Ser Kevan would no doubt slay him with the blade he had at his side.
Dramen was forced to watch as his daughter struggled to choose a weapon. She grabbed a tourney longsword, and struggled to lift it. That earned her a round of laughter from Ser Kyle and Lorch. Weiss grabbed a short sword, and could barely lift it in the air. She shook her head and placed it back where it belonged and reached for a pair of blunted daggers. A bit unconventional, but it would at least make sense with her size and age. Still, he worried for her. His own flesh and blood, put in danger for simply defending herself.
They looked oversized in Weiss' hands, and made Dramen feel like doubting his wife's words. He could hear her praying under her breath, just barely. Ceria had become more devout since the attack. Not that he could blame her, under the circumstances, he'd even pray to one of the Northerners' blasphemous trees if he thought it would help.
"Father above, please grant your justice." Ceria prayed over and over. "Mother above, please continue to show us your mercy."
Weiss took her position several feet away from Lorch, and took up a weird and foreign stance. It almost resembled a dancing stance, but not one he had ever seen.
"May the Warrior guard our daughter and guide her blows." Ceria made the symbol of the Seven-pointed star over her bosom. "Oh beautiful Maiden, grant her your courage, Mighty Smith may you grant her strength."
No one else seemed to notice her prayer, other than Weiss. Even from a distance Dramen spotted her blue eyes landing upon her Mother. His beautiful daughter stared for a few seconds, when she suddenly raised the dagger in her left hand in the air, and began making the symbol of the Seven over her chest. That caused Ceria to calm, surprisingly.
Weiss returned to her foreign stance. Ser Lyle stood beside the weapon rack, several feet away from Weiss and Lorch. He glanced in Lord Tywin's direction for only a single moment before he boomed.
"Begin!"
Dramen felt his breathing slow the moment Ser Amory Lorch started moving. The man started with an open swing, charging in Weiss' direction. Time seemed to have slowed as the blunted blade nearly reached his beautiful daughter's neck, just for Weiss to take a single step back, avoiding the strike. Lorch tried another one, this time with an overhead swing, just for Weiss to avoid that one too.
His daughter looked like she was dancing, moving in between Lorch's strikes, who got more and more frustrated with every miss. The stout man was shorter than Dramen, yet he still towered over Weiss, who dodged another strike. Weiss had a small, cold smile on her face the entire time, on the verge of showing her white teeth.
T-Those weren't the eyes of his beloved daughter, but of the Warrior himself! Dramen gripped the handles of his seat, realizing maybe his wife's sudden devotion was based in fact. Everyone else watched in silence, the only sound coming from Lorch's sword swinging through the air and hitting the ground with a thud.
"Fight!" Lorch squealed, reminiscent of the pig that had obviously slept with his mother. His swings were starting to slow despite not wearing plate. He had started the spar too aggressively, and was out of shape. Lorch threw his shield to the side and held his blade with both hands. Truly he was a disgrace to being a knight in every sense of the word. What idiot had felt he was apparently worthy of being called a 'Ser'?
"Hm?" Weiss raised an eyebrow, she looked even younger with the ill fitting clothes. "Should I?"
She ducked underneath an overextended swing and moved in close. Lorch moved to jab his knee into her gut, but Weiss was faster and used her dagger to stab at the back of his knee. He howled and bent over, before swinging back at her, but missed, again. Dramen glanced over at Lord Tywin, and could judge from the scowl on his face that this was not going as he intended.
Weiss was fast, faster than Dramen had ever thought she could be. She jabbed Lorch with the dagger in her right hand in his left arm and quickly retreated. His daughter fought like a water dancer, yet not even that was completely accurate. It was similar to how the Bravos would fight, and yet, it was that one touch off.
"Yah!" Lorch swung his blade once again, just for Weiss to meet it with her daggers crossed over each other forming an X. Lorch's blade, much to everyone's surprise, couldn't even part the two daggers, much less push Weiss down on her knees. No, Weiss stood proudly, and tilted her head.
"I grow tired of this." She used the daggers and pushed him back, beginning her own barrage of strikes. Weiss' blunted daggers drew no blood, but they still left ugly and purple bruises under Lorch's armor. She still avoided his counterstrikes, getting in close enough to jab his other knee with a dagger, forcing Lorch to one knee, who dropped his sword in panic or simply from shock. In a simple, calculated motion, her other dagger rested against his fat neck. "Yield!"
Lorch stared at her in awe, his small and beady eyes full of confusion and rage. He reached for his sword, only for Weiss to press the blunted blade even deeper into his neck. He swore he could start to see a trickle of red bubble from the fat pig's neck where she pushed the blunted blade. "Yield!"
Ser Lyle moved towards them, to separate them, if need be, when a casual wave from Lord Tywin stopped the Strongboar in his tracks.
"I yield." Lorch finally admitted, drawing his eyes away from Weiss'. Weiss removed her dagger, revealing a thin red line. A small wound, and far from a fatal one. She turned slowly, her cold smile gone, replaced by an indifferent expression. If they had used live steel, Lorch would've been limb dead.
"Blessed are the faithful of the Seven." Ceria whispered loudly.
Weiss gave Lord Tywin a sarcastic and over dramatic bow, and threw a lock of her hair over her shoulder. A bit over the top, but he had just tried to have her fight one of the more infamous knights of the Westerlands. Some audacity was to be expected.
"You have a dangerous daughter, Dramen." Lord Tywin said when Weiss moved to return the daggers. Ser Lyle helped Lorch to his feet with a single hand begrudgingly. Dramen turned to look at his liege lord, who kept staring at Weiss. Lord Tywin's face revealed nothing. "She'll be a fine Lady of Lannisport, should your wife not bear you a son."
"Thank you, my Lord." Was all that Dramen could say. Even he was confused at his daughter's skill with a weapon. Did Ser Tylan give her lessons before he passed without Dramen knowing? Or was Ceria right in some way, that their daughter had been blessed by the Seven?
"Focus on repairing the docks." Lord Tywin finally stood up slowly, followed by Ser Kevan. "We can rebuild the fleet once the war is over." Left unsaid was that House Lannister would need to find other ways to show the flag in this war. How and why was a matter for another time though.
"As you command, my Lord." Dramen bowed his head, all tension leaving his shoulders. His head was remaining attached, at the very least.
Yet, the pit in his stomach kept growing deeper, and not even this victory could change that.
A/N
Welcome to the new longest chapter in A Song of Weiss and Fire! We hope it was enjoyable as usual.
Time for a short timeskip.