I started from A Feast for Crows scenario, where Ned, Robb and Catelyn are already dead. Arya, Bran and Rickon have missing traits whereas Sansa is married to Harrold Arryn. They have two children at this point, one of each gender.
The Little Cub (Game of Thrones AAR)
- Thread starter Aidun
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I ask this of all AGOT AARs. As the years go by could you let me know what happens to House Badics? They are the minor house just north of the eyrie. That is my created house for taking second in the first aar competition. Thanks.
Another great update. Was a little worried tommen was going to be cut down.
Another great update. Was a little worried tommen was going to be cut down.
December 8307. War in the Riverlands has just ended.
#1: House Badics. Current Lord is Paul Badics, who is the Master-at-Arms of Strongsong and and belongs to the Liege Loyalist faction.
#2: The heir, Bryton's wife. A lowborn young woman with no interesting traits. They have two children, who both have no unordinary traits either.
#3: Bryen, Lord Paul's bastard son. On the right side his mother, Syrella, Lord Paul's lover.
#4: Parmen Ruthermont, Calleigh's spouse. The second son of now dead Lord Manfryd Ruthermont of Ruthermont, brother to the current lord Eddison Ruthermont. Calleigh and Parmen have three boys as seen in #1. Osney has attractice trait, the two younger ones are twin brothers without any unordinary traits.
If you want other updates later, just tell me when.
Part 15 is almost done. Might be it will be delayed by some days since I'm leaving home for the winter holiday.
The Little Cub
Part 15 - Sins of the Father
--
The towers of Harrenhal loomed in the horizon hours before King Tommen and his troops even reached the magnificent fortress. The King had heard stories of the place, but hadn't been to the ruins of Harrenhal ever before. I spent most of my childhood in King's Landing. It was nice when we sometimes set off and I got to see the world outside the Red Keep.. like when we travelled to Winterfell. Of the seventeen thousand men that had marched with Tommen to Erenford, fourteen thousand returned. They'd lost three thousand men, mostly from the vanguard and the rearguard cavalry, but the losses were three times bigger for the Riverlanders. The victory had been decisive and the tale of how King Tommen had personally slayed Ser Lothor spread like wildfire, supported by the prominent wound in the his face.
''The Tyrell rose flies above the main gate, your Grace'', an outrider came to report. The King nodded as an answer and spurred his steed into gallop. Lord Commander Jaime caught up with him. ''Your Grace, it may be the best if you didn't ride ahead of the army, but waited for a confirmation if the report was actually true.'' Tommen's uncle had taken his job more seriously after he'd failed to protect the King during the battle. It was as if seeing Tommen wounded had hurt Ser Jaime more than his nephew himself. The Battle of Whispering Wood and later being ambushed when returning from the Riverlands had taught Ser Jaime to be more careful, but to Tommen his cautionary tales meant little. ''Your cousin, Lancel's men fought against us in Erenford, yet I never hesitated to think if you'd perform your duties accordingly. Being overcautious leads to paranoia, uncle. Besides, there were thirty-thousand Tyrell men besieging Harrenhal. This can't be Littlefinger's trap'', Tommen replied and rode past the front line of his marching men.
The massiveness of Harrenhal left the King wordless. He rode through the gate accompanied by the kingsguards, his ward, Ryan Tully, and a two dozen knights. Mace Tyrell awaited them at the courtyard and Tommen stopped his horse, taking a look at the Hand of the King. ''Your grace.. By the Gods.. your face'', the Lord of Reach cried and turned to look at his son, Ser Loras. ''Just a scratch, my lord. The battle was won, and your son did well leading the left flank and crushing the Riverlander resistance'', Tommen replied with a carefree tone in his voice, trying to convince Lord Mace it wasn't his sons fault that he'd been wounded. Ser Loras had wanted to lead the vanguard himself, but Tommen had robbed him of that glory. It was only just that in return the king praised the valiant kingsguard in front of his own father. The King dismounted, still clad in his black-and-gold armor, and then faced Lord Mace again. ''About fourteen thousand men are marching to Harrenhal as we speak, some of them wounded. See to it that they're given proper accomodations.'' The Hand of the King nodded: ''Yes, of course. A chamber has been prepared for you in the Kingspyre Tower. It may also please you to hear that Lord Baelish and his daughter were found from the fortress once we took it. They're currently in my custody and well guarded.'' The news indeed pleased the king, who replied; ''Then, my lords, the war is over. If you would be so kind as to lend me one of your men who could lead me to my chambers? I wish to rest after a long ride. There'll be time to discuss other matters later today.. and of course to celebrate our victory'!'
Tommen gestures his ward of seven years of age to accompany him, and they were escorted to the tallest of Harrenhal's towers by one of Lord Tyrell's men. At the entrance of the tower, young Ryan looked up, and the sight of his amazed ward got a smile on the king's lips. It was the tallest tower Tommen had ever seen, even though some claimed that the Hightower of Oldtown was bigger. ''This is it'', the guard said, stopping in front of a huge door after a moment of climbing up the stairs. The door was guarded by two Tyrell men. ''Is it safe to go all the way to the top of the tower?'', the King asked the guard who had escorted them all the way to here. The guard seemed uncertain for a moment. ''Only the lower floors of two towers were used by Lady Whent and her court, m'lord. The rest belongs to rats and bats. Still, I'd say ye will be fine if ye ain't afraid of dust and spider web.. or the ghosts of Harren the Black and his sons'', the guard replied, grinning teasingly at the young Tully. Tommen found himself smiling again and went on: ''Your lord has Littlefinger in his pocket. Do fetch the man for me and bring him atop the tower. I'll receive Lord Baelish there.''
The guard bowed his head and returned the way they'd come from, whereas Tommen and his ward, accompanied by the kingsguard Ser Meryn continued walking up the steps. Tommen found himself breathing heavier, and regretted not leaving his armor in the room when he had the chance. Once they reached the top, crawling through all the spiderwebs felt like worth it. Tommen felt the cold wind beat against his face, and took a look at his young ward who didn't hesitate leaving the stairs unlike Ser Meryn. The boy's either brave or too young to be afraid, Tommen thought and saw Ser Meryn finally emerge from the stairs. Tommen walked to the side and looked down. The view was overwhelming.
The dragonfire had melted the stones of Kingspyre Tower over three centuries ago, making it lopsided. Still, it stood there even to this day as one of tallest structures humankind had ever built. Tommen didn't know how tall the tower was, but estimated it to be about four or five hundred feet high. Tommen could see that his army had finally arrived to Harrenhal, and the first men in the long line were marching through the fortress' gates. ''It'd be the best if you both stayed away from the edge. The wind is strong up here'', Ser Meryn spoke and Tommen could hear from the man's voice he was not fond of high places. The boy with them was more enthusiastic than the king had ever seen before, though. For a long moment they just looked around, without saying anything until young Ryan opened his mouth; ''That's the God's Eye!'' The boy pointed at the lake beside the fortress. ''During the Dance of Dragons, Aemond and Daemon Targaryen had a duel over there, riding on their dragons. Aemond rode Vhagar, the dragon of Queen Visenya - the sister of Aegon the Conqueror. Daemon rode Caraxes, a younger dragon, but had Queen Visenya's Valyrian sword Dark Sister with him. Funny how they both had something that belonged to the same woman more than a century before!'' Tommen looked at his young ward with surprise. The boy knows more about the history of this place than I do. Ryan went on: ''Aemond's.. err.. friend.. spectated the duel right from where we are now!''
Young Ryan explained enthusiastically the main events of the Targaryen civil war and how Vhaegar's bones and the Dark Sister had been found years later from the lake. When Tommen told him that it's skull was in the basement of the Red Keep, the boy would've wanted to return to the capital straight away. That was when Lord Baelish arrived, escorted by two Tyrell guards. Tommen ordered them to unbound Littlefinger and everyone to leave them. Ser Meryn looked at the king with concern, but Tommen nodded to him as a sign that everything would be alright. Once they were alone, the young king turned to the man whose face he knew well. ''It's been a while, Lord Baelish.'' Littlefinger was as charming as ever despite having been held in a dungeon. ''Seven years, your Grace'', Lord Baelish replied and flashed a smile. Tommen knew better than to answer in the same manner; although a certain level of courtesy was required, the man was still his enemy.
''You served my family well'', Tommen said and slowly walked towards the edge, looking in horizon. ''..which is why you ask yourself; why did he betray me?'', Lord Baelish said, continuing from where Tommen left off, clearly enjoying about being in control. The King looked over his shoulder, meeting Littlefinger's eyes and then went on: ''Fifteen thousand men lie dead in Erenford. I only ask what was it for?'' The Lord Paramount walked slowly towards Tommen and took a place beside him, looking at the horizon as well. ''As brutal as it has been, this war you started has been more to your benefit than you can ever imagine.''
''Your change.. it began with Sansa Stark going.. ''missing.'' '', Tommen stated, almost like a question. ''The only thing that has changed is the game. But after your brother's wedding I've moved my pieces more aggressively, true'', Littlefinger replied. ''Did you have something to do with Joffrey's death?'', Tommen asked with a serious voice, knowing that Littlefinger had taken Sansa Stark with him that night - the wife of the main suspect. The thought had kept him awake at night. Although Joffrey was never much of a brother to Tommen, he was still his kin and once the king. Tommen turned to Lord Baelish, who looked at him with a typical grin on his face. ''I know many things and more. Things you may not want to believe true as the truth would hurt you more than living with the lies.'' The King was growing tired of word games and moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, taking a step behind Littlefinger who now was left between the edge and Tommen. Lord Baelish turned around, facing Tommen, and quickly glanced at his sword. ''Tell me'', Tommen said with a calm yet threatening voice, noticing uncertainty in Littlefinger's eyes.
''When order breaks, chaos prevails'', Lord Baelish began and held a moment of pause before going on. ''The world order changes, and the weak have to make room for the strong and the clever. Joffrey's death sent the world deeper into chaos.. but chaos is also time for opportunities, a time for those who are able to seize the moment. Tell me.. who would benefit the most from having an underaged king?'' Tommen didn't like the grin Littlefinger had on his face. Not at all. ''Your brother was harder to control than you were. Once he was out of the way, it allowed the Tyrells to.. grow stronger. Didn't you ever come to think why your mother disliked them so much?'' Tommen raised his eyebrows and confusion took control of his thoughts. ''How do you know this all?'' Tommen's reaction only seemed to amuse Lord Baelish, who innocently replied: ''Why, it was me who brokered the alliance between your families after Lord Renly's death. Both your mother and the Tyrells used me, unaware I was using them both too.''
''Yet here you are'', Tommen stated. ''Imprisoned by allies you had a hand in uniting.'' The statement didn't have the effect on Littlefinger that Tommen had hoped for, and Lord Baelish was more defiant than before. ''Why do you think I sent Ser Lothor's men all the way to Freylands? I could've left them garrisoned here and withheld your men for years within these walls. Lord Robert of the Vale was my ward, yet still I let him go to your coronation even though it was obvious to what end you also summoned their armies. I had all the money I needed to hire countless mercenaries to my cause, or I could've fled with that all and lived like a king somewhere on the other side of the Narrow Sea. You've won because I wanted it, and I am your captive only because that's my will.''
''Exactly. Would you perhaps like to explain to me why you lent me a hand in your own demise?'' Tommen asked, growing more annoyed of Littlefinger's mysteriousness and no longer bothering to hide it. Lord Baelish but smiled despite the change in the king's attitude and replied; ''I've achieved everything that I wanted to, and left the key to success to those I wanted to have it. You, among others.'' Tommen tilted his head questioningly and raised his eyebrows: ''And why is that?'' Even on the edge, Littlefinger posessed overwhelming confidence that captured Tommen's attention. He'd changed from that humble courtier that Tommen once knew to a ruthless lord who bowed to no-one. ''Because you're your father's son. I don't want to ruin the fun the Gods are having, as there's not a better joke in the whole world than you sitting on that throne of the dragonkings.''
Everything Littlefinger said to him only led to more questions, and Tommen was done asking. He turned around and walked towards the stairs until Lord Baelish's voice stopped him. ''I presume you've always taken the rumours about you being a bastard as lies that were only meant to weaken your claim to the throne. But what if I told you they were true?'' The king stopped suddenly, looked over his shoulder at Littlefinger and then turned around to face the man. Lord Baelish took a few steps forward and went on: ''Where do you think your brilliance with swords comes from? Or your golden hair? Baratheons are known for their black hair, which Robert and his both brothers also had.''
At first Tommen felt like slaying the man there and then, but patiently held his hand. When Qyburn had been arrested years ago, Tommen had been called a bastard out on the yard more than once. The boy had ignored the offends like his uncle had said, and eventually they had stopped. I never even bothered to consider if it was true, so why should I now? My mother didn't have many friends, and dedicated everything to her family. How could there have been some other men, when the only man in whose company she was happy was--.. Then he realised what Littlefinger had implied. The man in front of him grinned as he saw the look on Tommen's face. ''I warned you.. truth can hurt.''
(Comparison of young Jaime & Tommen)
''You're lying'', Tommen stated as if to assure himself it was but a lie, yet there was a tone of uncertainty in his voice. Littlefinger grinned and Tommen senses the man was enjoying of the moment. ''Am I?'', Littlefinger asked mockingly. Tommen turned around and hastily walked to the stairs, leaving Littlefinger alone on the top of the tower. The two guards were waiting in the stairs with Ser Meryn, and all looked at the king once he appeared. ''Escort Lord Baelish back to the dungeons'', Tommen said after exchanging looks with the guards. The king walked quickly past them down the stairs, trying to wrap his head around the fact that everything his life was based on might actually be a lie.
Tommen reached the door of his chambers and one of the two Tyrell men standing guard outside of it pushed it open for him. Once the king stepped inside, he noticed Ryan was already inside. Tommen stared at him in silence for a moment and then turned around, looking at one of the Tyrell guards. ''Ser Meryn will take your place. Go find Lord Commander Jaime and bring him here.'' The guard bowed his head and along with his colleague headed downstairs. Tommen closed the door and turned to Ryan; ''Help me get this armor off.'' Once they were done and the black-and-gold plate armor rested on an armor stand, Tommen sent the boy away, who was more than willing to explore Harrenhal. His father might've been a prisoner, but young Ryan and his mother had been allowed to move freely at the court in the Red Keep.
Tommen poured wine for himself and walked to the window. Littlefinger might've lied. Only Gods know what game he's playing.. it might just well be that he's toying with me, only to see how I react, Tommen almost hoped and looked down at the courtyard. There was no way he'd ever understand Littlefinger or his actions. The man just lost a war and might soon lose his head, yet he but makes japes. The only thing the man seems to want.. is to laugh while watching the world burn. Tommen took a sip from his drink and looked outside in silence until he heard the door was knocked on. ''It's open'', Tommen said yet never turned. The king could hear the door was opened, and a voice he knew very well said: ''Your Grace.''
Tommen turned around and faced the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard. ''Close the door and take a seat'', the King said to Ser Jaime and drank again. ''How are you feeling?'', the young king asked once the man was seated. Ser Jaime held a long pause before answering, and Tommen saw him look at his golden hand. ''The place holds bad memories for me.'' Tommen walked to the table and sat down as well, placing the wine cup in front of him. ''I never asked you how it happened'', the king said, looking at his uncle's hand and eyes in that order. ''There's nothing to say. It's of the past'', Ser Jaime answered, clearly not liking about the subject. Tommen nodded and went on: ''It's the past that defines who we are. Things that you never did, things that you hoped to do.. and most of all, things that you have done.'' Tommen looked at Ser Jaime, but before the Lord Commander could say anything, the king went on: ''I spoke with Littlefinger a moment ago. It is the past that intrigues him as well..''
''Catelyn Tully is the sole thing that ever intrigued him'', Jaime stated. ''After the Red Wedding, Littlefinger lost the main purpose of his ambitions. The man had his whole life tried to rise higher, only because it was the only way he might get her. The world became a joke to him after her death.. and not everything he had or could get could fill in the hole she left.'' Tommen had never thought it from that side, and it perfectly explained why Littlefinger had secretly taken Sansa Stark with him to Vale. I left the key to success to those I wanted to have it, Tommen remembered Littlefinger's words. You among others. Because you're your father's son. Tommen had his eyes fixed to Jaime's. ''Isn't that what happened to you after mother died?'' The Lord Commander raised his eyebrows in confusion. ''She was my twin sister. Part of me died with her, just like a part of me died when I was..'' Ser Jaime ended his answer suddenly and turned his gaze down to his golden hand. After a moment of silence, Ser Jaime gathered his thoughts. ''Why are you asking me all this, your Grace?''
''Littlefinger told me something'', Tommen began and held a long moment of silence looking into Ser Jaime's eyes before continuing; ''Sometimes you have to go to your enemies to hear the truth your friends don't tell because they want to protect you from it.'' Tommen's hand moved to the wine cup, but the young king made no attempt to take it. His eyes turned to Jaime. ''In the Age of Heroes, Lann the Clever tricked Lord Casterly out of his keep and thus formed the House Lannister.. If what Littlefinger told me is actually true, what you have done is quite similar to your ancestor.'' Tommen could see Ser Jaime shift in his seat, yet no words came out of his mouth. ''So tell me.. and tell me true.. Are you but a kingslayer - or also a kingmaker?''
Jaime let out a sigh, saying ''Tommen'' in a way that silenced the young king. ''There is a reason you've been protected from that rumour..'' The young kind gripped the wine cup harder and raised his voice: ''Yes, you told me to ignore them. Only you left out that it's you the people claim to be my true father.'' The king's voice was calm, yet there was a hint of anger in it. I have personal experience with cheating queens which doesn't make this any easier for me. Jaime remained silent and it seemed to Tommen as if the man didn't know what to say. He's always had a witty answer ready. But not now. Tommen moved the cup to his lips and emptied it, regretting his harsh words. I'm but a boy who wants to know who he actually is, yet he only sees the king in me. Tommen placed the cup back on the table and turned his eyes to Jaime when he heard him speak. ''You'll make a greater king than the Seven Kingdoms have had for the past half-a-century. What do the sins of the father matter compared to that?''
Part 15 - Sins of the Father
--
The towers of Harrenhal loomed in the horizon hours before King Tommen and his troops even reached the magnificent fortress. The King had heard stories of the place, but hadn't been to the ruins of Harrenhal ever before. I spent most of my childhood in King's Landing. It was nice when we sometimes set off and I got to see the world outside the Red Keep.. like when we travelled to Winterfell. Of the seventeen thousand men that had marched with Tommen to Erenford, fourteen thousand returned. They'd lost three thousand men, mostly from the vanguard and the rearguard cavalry, but the losses were three times bigger for the Riverlanders. The victory had been decisive and the tale of how King Tommen had personally slayed Ser Lothor spread like wildfire, supported by the prominent wound in the his face.
''The Tyrell rose flies above the main gate, your Grace'', an outrider came to report. The King nodded as an answer and spurred his steed into gallop. Lord Commander Jaime caught up with him. ''Your Grace, it may be the best if you didn't ride ahead of the army, but waited for a confirmation if the report was actually true.'' Tommen's uncle had taken his job more seriously after he'd failed to protect the King during the battle. It was as if seeing Tommen wounded had hurt Ser Jaime more than his nephew himself. The Battle of Whispering Wood and later being ambushed when returning from the Riverlands had taught Ser Jaime to be more careful, but to Tommen his cautionary tales meant little. ''Your cousin, Lancel's men fought against us in Erenford, yet I never hesitated to think if you'd perform your duties accordingly. Being overcautious leads to paranoia, uncle. Besides, there were thirty-thousand Tyrell men besieging Harrenhal. This can't be Littlefinger's trap'', Tommen replied and rode past the front line of his marching men.
The massiveness of Harrenhal left the King wordless. He rode through the gate accompanied by the kingsguards, his ward, Ryan Tully, and a two dozen knights. Mace Tyrell awaited them at the courtyard and Tommen stopped his horse, taking a look at the Hand of the King. ''Your grace.. By the Gods.. your face'', the Lord of Reach cried and turned to look at his son, Ser Loras. ''Just a scratch, my lord. The battle was won, and your son did well leading the left flank and crushing the Riverlander resistance'', Tommen replied with a carefree tone in his voice, trying to convince Lord Mace it wasn't his sons fault that he'd been wounded. Ser Loras had wanted to lead the vanguard himself, but Tommen had robbed him of that glory. It was only just that in return the king praised the valiant kingsguard in front of his own father. The King dismounted, still clad in his black-and-gold armor, and then faced Lord Mace again. ''About fourteen thousand men are marching to Harrenhal as we speak, some of them wounded. See to it that they're given proper accomodations.'' The Hand of the King nodded: ''Yes, of course. A chamber has been prepared for you in the Kingspyre Tower. It may also please you to hear that Lord Baelish and his daughter were found from the fortress once we took it. They're currently in my custody and well guarded.'' The news indeed pleased the king, who replied; ''Then, my lords, the war is over. If you would be so kind as to lend me one of your men who could lead me to my chambers? I wish to rest after a long ride. There'll be time to discuss other matters later today.. and of course to celebrate our victory'!'
Tommen gestures his ward of seven years of age to accompany him, and they were escorted to the tallest of Harrenhal's towers by one of Lord Tyrell's men. At the entrance of the tower, young Ryan looked up, and the sight of his amazed ward got a smile on the king's lips. It was the tallest tower Tommen had ever seen, even though some claimed that the Hightower of Oldtown was bigger. ''This is it'', the guard said, stopping in front of a huge door after a moment of climbing up the stairs. The door was guarded by two Tyrell men. ''Is it safe to go all the way to the top of the tower?'', the King asked the guard who had escorted them all the way to here. The guard seemed uncertain for a moment. ''Only the lower floors of two towers were used by Lady Whent and her court, m'lord. The rest belongs to rats and bats. Still, I'd say ye will be fine if ye ain't afraid of dust and spider web.. or the ghosts of Harren the Black and his sons'', the guard replied, grinning teasingly at the young Tully. Tommen found himself smiling again and went on: ''Your lord has Littlefinger in his pocket. Do fetch the man for me and bring him atop the tower. I'll receive Lord Baelish there.''
The guard bowed his head and returned the way they'd come from, whereas Tommen and his ward, accompanied by the kingsguard Ser Meryn continued walking up the steps. Tommen found himself breathing heavier, and regretted not leaving his armor in the room when he had the chance. Once they reached the top, crawling through all the spiderwebs felt like worth it. Tommen felt the cold wind beat against his face, and took a look at his young ward who didn't hesitate leaving the stairs unlike Ser Meryn. The boy's either brave or too young to be afraid, Tommen thought and saw Ser Meryn finally emerge from the stairs. Tommen walked to the side and looked down. The view was overwhelming.
The dragonfire had melted the stones of Kingspyre Tower over three centuries ago, making it lopsided. Still, it stood there even to this day as one of tallest structures humankind had ever built. Tommen didn't know how tall the tower was, but estimated it to be about four or five hundred feet high. Tommen could see that his army had finally arrived to Harrenhal, and the first men in the long line were marching through the fortress' gates. ''It'd be the best if you both stayed away from the edge. The wind is strong up here'', Ser Meryn spoke and Tommen could hear from the man's voice he was not fond of high places. The boy with them was more enthusiastic than the king had ever seen before, though. For a long moment they just looked around, without saying anything until young Ryan opened his mouth; ''That's the God's Eye!'' The boy pointed at the lake beside the fortress. ''During the Dance of Dragons, Aemond and Daemon Targaryen had a duel over there, riding on their dragons. Aemond rode Vhagar, the dragon of Queen Visenya - the sister of Aegon the Conqueror. Daemon rode Caraxes, a younger dragon, but had Queen Visenya's Valyrian sword Dark Sister with him. Funny how they both had something that belonged to the same woman more than a century before!'' Tommen looked at his young ward with surprise. The boy knows more about the history of this place than I do. Ryan went on: ''Aemond's.. err.. friend.. spectated the duel right from where we are now!''
Young Ryan explained enthusiastically the main events of the Targaryen civil war and how Vhaegar's bones and the Dark Sister had been found years later from the lake. When Tommen told him that it's skull was in the basement of the Red Keep, the boy would've wanted to return to the capital straight away. That was when Lord Baelish arrived, escorted by two Tyrell guards. Tommen ordered them to unbound Littlefinger and everyone to leave them. Ser Meryn looked at the king with concern, but Tommen nodded to him as a sign that everything would be alright. Once they were alone, the young king turned to the man whose face he knew well. ''It's been a while, Lord Baelish.'' Littlefinger was as charming as ever despite having been held in a dungeon. ''Seven years, your Grace'', Lord Baelish replied and flashed a smile. Tommen knew better than to answer in the same manner; although a certain level of courtesy was required, the man was still his enemy.
''You served my family well'', Tommen said and slowly walked towards the edge, looking in horizon. ''..which is why you ask yourself; why did he betray me?'', Lord Baelish said, continuing from where Tommen left off, clearly enjoying about being in control. The King looked over his shoulder, meeting Littlefinger's eyes and then went on: ''Fifteen thousand men lie dead in Erenford. I only ask what was it for?'' The Lord Paramount walked slowly towards Tommen and took a place beside him, looking at the horizon as well. ''As brutal as it has been, this war you started has been more to your benefit than you can ever imagine.''
''Your change.. it began with Sansa Stark going.. ''missing.'' '', Tommen stated, almost like a question. ''The only thing that has changed is the game. But after your brother's wedding I've moved my pieces more aggressively, true'', Littlefinger replied. ''Did you have something to do with Joffrey's death?'', Tommen asked with a serious voice, knowing that Littlefinger had taken Sansa Stark with him that night - the wife of the main suspect. The thought had kept him awake at night. Although Joffrey was never much of a brother to Tommen, he was still his kin and once the king. Tommen turned to Lord Baelish, who looked at him with a typical grin on his face. ''I know many things and more. Things you may not want to believe true as the truth would hurt you more than living with the lies.'' The King was growing tired of word games and moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, taking a step behind Littlefinger who now was left between the edge and Tommen. Lord Baelish turned around, facing Tommen, and quickly glanced at his sword. ''Tell me'', Tommen said with a calm yet threatening voice, noticing uncertainty in Littlefinger's eyes.
''When order breaks, chaos prevails'', Lord Baelish began and held a moment of pause before going on. ''The world order changes, and the weak have to make room for the strong and the clever. Joffrey's death sent the world deeper into chaos.. but chaos is also time for opportunities, a time for those who are able to seize the moment. Tell me.. who would benefit the most from having an underaged king?'' Tommen didn't like the grin Littlefinger had on his face. Not at all. ''Your brother was harder to control than you were. Once he was out of the way, it allowed the Tyrells to.. grow stronger. Didn't you ever come to think why your mother disliked them so much?'' Tommen raised his eyebrows and confusion took control of his thoughts. ''How do you know this all?'' Tommen's reaction only seemed to amuse Lord Baelish, who innocently replied: ''Why, it was me who brokered the alliance between your families after Lord Renly's death. Both your mother and the Tyrells used me, unaware I was using them both too.''
''Yet here you are'', Tommen stated. ''Imprisoned by allies you had a hand in uniting.'' The statement didn't have the effect on Littlefinger that Tommen had hoped for, and Lord Baelish was more defiant than before. ''Why do you think I sent Ser Lothor's men all the way to Freylands? I could've left them garrisoned here and withheld your men for years within these walls. Lord Robert of the Vale was my ward, yet still I let him go to your coronation even though it was obvious to what end you also summoned their armies. I had all the money I needed to hire countless mercenaries to my cause, or I could've fled with that all and lived like a king somewhere on the other side of the Narrow Sea. You've won because I wanted it, and I am your captive only because that's my will.''
''Exactly. Would you perhaps like to explain to me why you lent me a hand in your own demise?'' Tommen asked, growing more annoyed of Littlefinger's mysteriousness and no longer bothering to hide it. Lord Baelish but smiled despite the change in the king's attitude and replied; ''I've achieved everything that I wanted to, and left the key to success to those I wanted to have it. You, among others.'' Tommen tilted his head questioningly and raised his eyebrows: ''And why is that?'' Even on the edge, Littlefinger posessed overwhelming confidence that captured Tommen's attention. He'd changed from that humble courtier that Tommen once knew to a ruthless lord who bowed to no-one. ''Because you're your father's son. I don't want to ruin the fun the Gods are having, as there's not a better joke in the whole world than you sitting on that throne of the dragonkings.''
Everything Littlefinger said to him only led to more questions, and Tommen was done asking. He turned around and walked towards the stairs until Lord Baelish's voice stopped him. ''I presume you've always taken the rumours about you being a bastard as lies that were only meant to weaken your claim to the throne. But what if I told you they were true?'' The king stopped suddenly, looked over his shoulder at Littlefinger and then turned around to face the man. Lord Baelish took a few steps forward and went on: ''Where do you think your brilliance with swords comes from? Or your golden hair? Baratheons are known for their black hair, which Robert and his both brothers also had.''
At first Tommen felt like slaying the man there and then, but patiently held his hand. When Qyburn had been arrested years ago, Tommen had been called a bastard out on the yard more than once. The boy had ignored the offends like his uncle had said, and eventually they had stopped. I never even bothered to consider if it was true, so why should I now? My mother didn't have many friends, and dedicated everything to her family. How could there have been some other men, when the only man in whose company she was happy was--.. Then he realised what Littlefinger had implied. The man in front of him grinned as he saw the look on Tommen's face. ''I warned you.. truth can hurt.''
(Comparison of young Jaime & Tommen)
''You're lying'', Tommen stated as if to assure himself it was but a lie, yet there was a tone of uncertainty in his voice. Littlefinger grinned and Tommen senses the man was enjoying of the moment. ''Am I?'', Littlefinger asked mockingly. Tommen turned around and hastily walked to the stairs, leaving Littlefinger alone on the top of the tower. The two guards were waiting in the stairs with Ser Meryn, and all looked at the king once he appeared. ''Escort Lord Baelish back to the dungeons'', Tommen said after exchanging looks with the guards. The king walked quickly past them down the stairs, trying to wrap his head around the fact that everything his life was based on might actually be a lie.
Tommen reached the door of his chambers and one of the two Tyrell men standing guard outside of it pushed it open for him. Once the king stepped inside, he noticed Ryan was already inside. Tommen stared at him in silence for a moment and then turned around, looking at one of the Tyrell guards. ''Ser Meryn will take your place. Go find Lord Commander Jaime and bring him here.'' The guard bowed his head and along with his colleague headed downstairs. Tommen closed the door and turned to Ryan; ''Help me get this armor off.'' Once they were done and the black-and-gold plate armor rested on an armor stand, Tommen sent the boy away, who was more than willing to explore Harrenhal. His father might've been a prisoner, but young Ryan and his mother had been allowed to move freely at the court in the Red Keep.
Tommen poured wine for himself and walked to the window. Littlefinger might've lied. Only Gods know what game he's playing.. it might just well be that he's toying with me, only to see how I react, Tommen almost hoped and looked down at the courtyard. There was no way he'd ever understand Littlefinger or his actions. The man just lost a war and might soon lose his head, yet he but makes japes. The only thing the man seems to want.. is to laugh while watching the world burn. Tommen took a sip from his drink and looked outside in silence until he heard the door was knocked on. ''It's open'', Tommen said yet never turned. The king could hear the door was opened, and a voice he knew very well said: ''Your Grace.''
Tommen turned around and faced the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard. ''Close the door and take a seat'', the King said to Ser Jaime and drank again. ''How are you feeling?'', the young king asked once the man was seated. Ser Jaime held a long pause before answering, and Tommen saw him look at his golden hand. ''The place holds bad memories for me.'' Tommen walked to the table and sat down as well, placing the wine cup in front of him. ''I never asked you how it happened'', the king said, looking at his uncle's hand and eyes in that order. ''There's nothing to say. It's of the past'', Ser Jaime answered, clearly not liking about the subject. Tommen nodded and went on: ''It's the past that defines who we are. Things that you never did, things that you hoped to do.. and most of all, things that you have done.'' Tommen looked at Ser Jaime, but before the Lord Commander could say anything, the king went on: ''I spoke with Littlefinger a moment ago. It is the past that intrigues him as well..''
''Catelyn Tully is the sole thing that ever intrigued him'', Jaime stated. ''After the Red Wedding, Littlefinger lost the main purpose of his ambitions. The man had his whole life tried to rise higher, only because it was the only way he might get her. The world became a joke to him after her death.. and not everything he had or could get could fill in the hole she left.'' Tommen had never thought it from that side, and it perfectly explained why Littlefinger had secretly taken Sansa Stark with him to Vale. I left the key to success to those I wanted to have it, Tommen remembered Littlefinger's words. You among others. Because you're your father's son. Tommen had his eyes fixed to Jaime's. ''Isn't that what happened to you after mother died?'' The Lord Commander raised his eyebrows in confusion. ''She was my twin sister. Part of me died with her, just like a part of me died when I was..'' Ser Jaime ended his answer suddenly and turned his gaze down to his golden hand. After a moment of silence, Ser Jaime gathered his thoughts. ''Why are you asking me all this, your Grace?''
''Littlefinger told me something'', Tommen began and held a long moment of silence looking into Ser Jaime's eyes before continuing; ''Sometimes you have to go to your enemies to hear the truth your friends don't tell because they want to protect you from it.'' Tommen's hand moved to the wine cup, but the young king made no attempt to take it. His eyes turned to Jaime. ''In the Age of Heroes, Lann the Clever tricked Lord Casterly out of his keep and thus formed the House Lannister.. If what Littlefinger told me is actually true, what you have done is quite similar to your ancestor.'' Tommen could see Ser Jaime shift in his seat, yet no words came out of his mouth. ''So tell me.. and tell me true.. Are you but a kingslayer - or also a kingmaker?''
Jaime let out a sigh, saying ''Tommen'' in a way that silenced the young king. ''There is a reason you've been protected from that rumour..'' The young kind gripped the wine cup harder and raised his voice: ''Yes, you told me to ignore them. Only you left out that it's you the people claim to be my true father.'' The king's voice was calm, yet there was a hint of anger in it. I have personal experience with cheating queens which doesn't make this any easier for me. Jaime remained silent and it seemed to Tommen as if the man didn't know what to say. He's always had a witty answer ready. But not now. Tommen moved the cup to his lips and emptied it, regretting his harsh words. I'm but a boy who wants to know who he actually is, yet he only sees the king in me. Tommen placed the cup back on the table and turned his eyes to Jaime when he heard him speak. ''You'll make a greater king than the Seven Kingdoms have had for the past half-a-century. What do the sins of the father matter compared to that?''
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Poor, poor Tommen. His world is crumbling around him. Margery cheated on him with a friggin' jester of all things, and he found out his mother was likewise, albeit with a scoop of incest on top. The guy's gotta be reeling.
If you can, I'd suggest getting Littlefinger his place back on the fingers, or some position where he's directly under you. No man knows finance quite like Petyr.
If you can, I'd suggest getting Littlefinger his place back on the fingers, or some position where he's directly under you. No man knows finance quite like Petyr.
Hahahaha-brilliant post-I am just surprised it's taken Tommen so long for the truth to out. As mentioned above get Baelish on your side I would
The Little Cub
Part 16 - Mother Have Mercy
--
With Petyr Baelish captured, the war ended and so all the armies were dismissed. Although my vassals suggested that I should execute Lord Baelish for his crimes, I decided to send him to the Night's Watch instead. There he would hopefully work for the good of the realm, continuing from where he left off after leaving for the Vale years ago. I dared not forgive him, knowing that it would be the same as tossing a coin. Littlefinger had been blessed with towering intellect and it only made him more dangerous. Even though I left him alive, I still had his daughter in my custody and she remained the ruler of Harrenhal and the surrounding lands after his father's exile to the Wall. The title was only formal, though, and she remained a hostage who I sent to King's Landing to be tutored by Grand Maester Medwick. I myself first departed for Chyttering Brook, where a tourney was to be held in celebration for the victorious war. After House Chyttering had sided with Lord Stannis in War of the Five Kings, it's lord was replaced with Morgan Rundell at my own behest.
The Lord Commander had returned to the capital at my command. After the conversation we had in Harrenhal, our relations had gotten more than awkward and I thought best if I had time of my own. All I wanted to do was drink in good company and knock a few opponents off their horses without having to think who my true parents were. The people around me had heard the rumours no doubt, yet they still clung to me as their king. For the time being I wanted to forget the hard truth and the words he told me, knowing that there'd be a time later when I'd have to make decisions. I could not run from the fact forever, yet I would not let it ruin me either.
I wanted to use every opportunity I had to avoid having to confront my wife Margaery, and the thought of a tourney also intrigued me. I had practiced jousting, yet I had not put my skills to test in an actual event. Chyttering Brook was not important due to it's location, but the Blackwater Rush turned into two smaller rivers at the location where the tourney was to be held. Travelling by river was easy way to reach the contest ground, and people came on boats from King's Landing to spectate the event. Along with me from Harrenhal travelled more than five hundred men, mostly knights from Reach, Vale and Westerlands, planning to make a stop at the tourney before heading back home from war.
We took an old forest road, riding it south all the way to Chyttering Brook. The countryside was poor, but the mere sight of me seemed to bring delight to the lives of the commoners. It was enlightening to see where my people lived, as labourers like them were the backbone to my kingdom. At peace those people worked hard to keep the kingdom fed and coffers filled, whereas during war the same men marched to battle against my enemies. People like them were the backbone of my kingdom, and I told my ward, Ryan, to heed that advice well. The boy was too young to rule in his own name, but his time would come.
The people in Chyttering Brook welcomed me with open arms, and praised my martial feat of returning the Riverlands back to the realm. My scar was quickly noticed, and the tale of Ser Lothor's demise by my sword soon was on everyone's lips. There was no question who the crowd's favorite was when the actual competition began. Most knights had already returned to their homes from war, as the small tourney of Chyttering Brook didn't interest them. Still, close to a hundred knights and other nobles put their skills to test. I had not brought my own equipment with me, but Lord Morgan was generous enough to offer me a few lances from his own armory. The rest I already had with me.
Ser Osmund, Ser Meryn and Ser Robert remained at my side. I had a personal seat reserved for the king only, and watched most of the tilts, trying to see what my opponents were capable of. Ser Osmund's younger brother, Ser Osney, had travelled from King's Landing and had been defeated in the first rounds. He decided it was appropriate to join my company whenever his brother was guarding me, and I had to listen to his cynical comments and remarks about whatever seemed to displease him. At first I didn't mind it at all, but after a few days he became an annoyance. He learned to stay out of my sight after I gave him a handful of coins and told him to go get laid.
The comment I said reminded me of the fact that I had not been with a woman for months. I had not heard any news from the capital, but I knew I'd have to face Margaery once I'd return to there. She was my queen, the mother of my child despite everything she had done and I was ready to forgive her if she had learned from her mistakes. Still, I was unsure whether she would be able to forgive me; when I had implied what had happened to Moon Boy, the reaction she gave me was sincere. She had feelings for the jester, perhaps even love. I had taken that from her by force and given sadness and lone nights while I myself was at war, far away from her bed.
I was lonely as well, and it made me well aware of the glances I was given by a certain lady. Ser Roland Bolling's wife Jocelyn was a true beauty, and I found myself wondering whether I should try finding happiness in the arms of another. Part of me wanted to have revenge on Margaery, but the other part assured me I'd not be any better than her if I seized the moment. A hope that our marriage would survive this all is what kept me going, and I decided to stay strong.
The tourney was not only about the jousting. There was also an archery competition and a melee contest. I personally took part in the latter one and got to show my virtuous talent in swordplay to the spectators. For now I had been hiding in the training yard of the Red Keep, honing my skills. That day, however, I finally brought them to light and let the world see what I was capable of. Time after time I prevailed, and finally the people came to conclusion there was no finer swordsman, no man to match my godlike technique. I knew better, though.
I was lucky that Ser Robert had not taken part in the tourney; he was one of the few men I was truly afraid of, and I was glad I had never sparred with him. I'd only seen the mysterious giant fight once before the Battle of Erenford when I had called him as my champion in a trial by combat after Lord Stannis's defeat, and even then my Kingsguard made short work of his enemy in no time. Ser Robert Strong was a living legend. I had never seen his true face, heard him speak or practice fighting, but I held the utmost respect for the man and knew him to be one of my most loyal and capable bodyguards.
The jousting tournament was a whole different matter than the close combat competition. Any man could partake the melee contest, whereas to join the jousting list you'd have to own the right equipment. I rode a black mane that I had gotten as a replacer to the one that had died under me in the Battle of Erenford and used the armor I'd been wearing throughout the campaign. When my name was finally shouted, I rode to the field in my black-and-gold armor, the golden hair of mine shining in summer sun. I took heart from all the praises and cheers that people shouted, trying to stay calm when facing my first opponent. Who I'd been facing had been decided earlier with straws, and I knew little of the man. Some hedge knight, and hopefully worthy jousting against me.
I had not accepted my ward Ryan as my squire just yet, so it came to Ser Osmund to hand me my helmet and lance. He wished me good luck, and I rode to the other end of the field to await for the sign to begin. When it was granted, I rode forth and tilted my lance and pointed it at my opponent. All the talk about time slowing down is lies, in battle and jousting both. It's the other way around; time almost seems to move faster, and only after it is done, you realize what just happened. I remember feeling how I the lance hit me and how my arm felt after I had struck my opponent. I heard the crowd cheer and noticed I was still on horseback whereas my opponent wasn't.
I prevailed in the early rounds and as the competition went forward, I met more seasoned opponents. Somehow none of them seemed to be able to knock me off, and so I remained on the horseback and grew accustomed to the crowd cheering for my victories. From the looks my opponents gave me, I saw envy and anger; they truly had tried to knock me off, and did not simply lose because I was the king. When the tournament grew closer to the end, the last competitions were held. Lord Gabriel Darkholme of Rollingford, one of generals won the third place, whereas I met Ser Galan - a local knight and the ser of Castle Aelwick - in the final. My opponent was a no name who was known only to the locals, yet he fought well all the same. After three tilts, I finally prevailed and became the champion.
After the tournament was done, Lord Morgan held a feast in his halls. Wine flowed and fires burned through the night, yet I kept my head clear and remained exemplary. I had never been fond of eating and drinking a lot, yet I felt welcome in the people's company. Not only was I the king, but also the champion of the tournament, and toasts were raised in my name. Not everyone's intentions were to have fun, though; Lord Lester Morrigan approached me that night, asking if he could be bestowed the Stormlands. My first thought was that I'd never give up the Storm's End, it being the ancestral seat of the House Baratheon. Only then I remembered what I'd been told in Harrenhal. I denied Lord Morrigan's request, knowing that people expected me to act as if I was King Robert's son. Just thinking about the truth made me gloomy and I ended up spending the night in solitude of my private tent. My mother was fucking her own brother.
The next morning, people were leaving. I meant to return to home, to my unfaithful wife, bodyguard father and newborn child until I was brought the news. Apparently Lord Norryn Gaunt was hosting another tournament in Dalston's Keep, near the border of Reach and Crownlands. The only reason why I wanted to return to the capital was Anora, but I wasn't ready to face the shadows that I knew to creep on the corridors of King's Landing. I announced that I'd be riding for Dalston's Keep.
My retinue had little choice. Ser Meryn and Ser Osmund both gave me annoyed looks whereas Ser Robert was silent as ever. Ryan came along as well, but he was more silent than before. Although the boy didn't say it, I knew he missed his mother. I'd allowed him to visit his father occasionally, but I deemed it wiser that I'd be the one raising him. Anora was but a baby, whereas I was still lacking the male heir. Having Ryan running around at my heels made me forget the fact, and I came to treat the boy like my own.
Lady Ravella Swann accompanied us on the road from Chyttering Brook to Dalston's Keep. She was the sister of the Kingsguard and my guardian Ser Balon, and after their eldest brother's early demise she had inherited their family lands in Stormlands. Trying to use her brother as a way to convince me, she requested that the Stormlands would be bestowed to her. I refused, of course, yet she wasn't satisfied; Lady Ravella let me know that she was very influential noble, and that she would use her connections to stain my name for hoarding titles. I still denied her request, even if it would harm my reputation. Ser Balon himself remained in King's Landing, and I heard he had sired a son while I was gone at war. As a Kingsguard, he was to be in celibacy, and I was surprised to hear that Ser Balon - of all my white cloaks - had broken that vow. The mother was a lowborn girl who had died in childbirth, but the boy lived and Ser Balon had taken him into the Red Keep under his protection.
Although I myself was heading to Dalston's Keep, I gave the order to a messenger to inform the small council that I wished to host a summer fair in King's Landing. It'd take time for all the realm to hear about it, but I wanted the capital to enjoy it's share of the victory and celebrating. The prospect of arriving to King's Landing in the middle of the fair was a welcome thought. First, however, there was the tourney in Dalston's Keep.
Once we arrived to the tourney ground on Lord Norryn Gaunt's lands, all the tiredness and wishes to return home were soon forgotten. Lord Norryn's event was even finer than the one I'd taken part previously. As the province was along the Roseroad that led from King's Landing to Highgarden, Crownlanders, Stormlanders and Reachmen attended the tourney. I met old faces from war and made new acquaintance with lords I had not met before.
There's not much to be told about the tournament itself. Like the one in Chyttering Brook, it consisted of melee and archery contest, yet the main event was the jousting tournament. Time after time I prevailed, both in melee and jousting. Archery had never been my kind of a thing and I had not trained it as much as fighting with swords. My guardian Ser Balon was surprisingly good at it, though, but a knight's place in battle was on horseback. The only opponent that gave me trouble was Ser Rickard 'Silveraxe' Fell. The man was just as formidable fighter as I was, yet he also posessed the strength only few men did. The man beat me in melee, yet we had a rematch when it came to the jousting.
I met Silveraxe in jousting finale and after five tilts finally dropped him from his horse. Though Ser Rickard had won the melee, the jousting mattered more and so I was crowned the champion of the tournament. I soon found myself pitying that Ser Rickard was married as he would've made an excellent Kingsguard.
I began the journey to King's Landing, knowing that I finally had to face my wife, father and the burden of being the king. I first thought I was sick of the thought, but soon I noticed I was actually feeling worse. I had not let the wound in my face completely heal, thinking it was only a scratch. It, however, began to hurt more and more during the journey and I soon noticed that I was suffering from a fever. Barely being able to ride a horse whilst wearing my heavy armor, I continued the journey to King's Landing in a stagecoach. I always imagined my homecoming would be on a horseback, clad in my shining armor at the head of an army.. but this would have to suffice.
My Kingsguards got even more to worry about when I began coughing. Breathing had become harder, and my chest hurt like never before. I had no idea where it all started, and eventually I was coughing up blood. I'm dying, I realized. Daeron Targaryen, also known as the Young Dragon, had only been fourteen when he became the King. Joffrey had been twelve, whereas I beat the record by being nine. And if I was to die now, I'd be leaving the Seven Kingdoms without a male heir.. Only a girl, still a baby at breast. She wouldn't survive the struggle that would follow, I knew. Realms with child rulers were always doomed, just like their rulers. I had survived only because of the Tyrells. As ironic as it was, according to Littlefinger the same house had conspired against the throne all that time.
As I laid dying and entered the twilight zone between two worlds, old memories flowed through my mind. I'm eight and I see Margaery for the first time, presented by her brother Ser Loras. My brother agrees to wed her.. I'm nine and marry her myself in a smaller wedding than Joffrey had. Later I watch as the Tower of the Hand succumbs to flames of wildfire.. Lord Rosby approaches me, telling me that Margaery has been stealing from the treasury.. I'm eleven when Jaime enters my room and tells me about the rumours, saying I should not listen to them and that my father's watching over me.. A year later my mother dies, and I'm left thinking that both my parents are dead.. I turn fourteen and Margaery joins me in my chamber for the first time.. I'm fifteen and she tells me she's pregnant.. As I become sixteen, Lord Bolton tells me she's been fucking the court jester behind my back.. I stand on top of Kingspyre Tower and hear the hard truth about my parents. Cold wind beats against my face, but the words hurt me more..
Jaime enters my room, and I ask him about the truth. He tells it to me. ''Your mother and I came to this world together. We were meant to be together in life, too.'' I watch him in silence and he tells me how the Targaryens also married their siblings. I rub my eyes in disbelief and he goes on, saying how my mother and he were one, and only together they were whole. I finally turn my eyes to his, telling him to shut up. I refill my wine cup, get up on my feet and head to the window. I order him to leave, and for a moment he hesitates. He says something to me, but I do not listen and nor say anything. When he finally takes his leave, I empty my cup and end up spending the next two days within that room, not receiving anyone. I feel betrayed and even more alone than when I heard about Margaery's affair. When the third day comes, I finally leave my room and ride south, trying to escape the truth.
''We're almost at King's Landing, your Grace'', someone tells me and I stir up from my feverish dreams. I try to rise to sit, but just the effort takes most of my powers. The smell in my nostrils is more than familiar, and no long after we pass through the King's Gate. The windows of the stagecoach are kept closed, yet I can hear the masses shout out my name. I close my eyes remembering the roar of the crowd when I dropped Silveraxe from his horse and the clash of battle all around me when I was suddenly pulled to real world after losing my horse. I did not remember how many men I slew when riding down the enemy troops, but on foot the count had been three. I never gave up, yet I this fight I'm currently having is different .. and I don't know if I can win it.
The voices grew more silent and I knew we had arrived in the Red Keep. I felt the stagecoach stop and I saw Ser Osmund pull open the door of the stagecoach. I got up to my feet and stepped outside. Ser Osmund said something, but I didn't listen - I only saw the faces that had gathered around me. I knew them more than well, and the looks they gave me turned serious and shocked. I probably look like half-a-corpse. I took a few arduous steps forward and suddenly bent over and began coughing blood. I felt how both my shoulders were grabbed and the hold was firm. ''Where is my wife?'', I said when the cough ended, not even sure from who I was asking. I tried to repeat the question, but the voices in my head had quieted and my vision turned into black.
When I regained my consciousness, I was in my own bed in Maegor's Holdfast. Ser Jaime.. my father.. was there, sitting beside me. When he noticed I was awake, he suddenly stood up and stared at me with a concern look on his face. I looked into his eyes for a long moment, and we didn't say anything. We had not seen each other after our conversation in Harrenhal, and I noticed uncertainity in the man's eyes. I had ran, knowing that I'd need to clear my head before making my decision on what to do about the fact that I wasn't King Robert's son at all. It doesn't matter, though. The Baratheon line is extinguished, and I lay here, dying. I somehow felt pity for the man in front of me, and though I didn't fully understand his actions or what he had gone through with my mother, I knew he cared for me more than anything. Though no words passed from my lips, I gave my father a sad smile as a sign that I had forgiven him.
''Bring me Margaery'', I said almost as quietly as a whisper. My father's gaze turned to the ground, and I saw remorse in his eyes. He then nodded and turned around, and I closed my eyes, drifting back into feverish sleep. I woke up to the door being opened, unsure how much time had passed. My wife stepped inside, accompanied by Ser Jaime. The first thing my eyes noticed was her swollen stomach. She's pregnant, I realized and felt joy for the first time in a long time. When I saw the repentant look on her face and the seriousness of Ser Jaime, I realized the child wasn't mine.
Part 16 - Mother Have Mercy
--
With Petyr Baelish captured, the war ended and so all the armies were dismissed. Although my vassals suggested that I should execute Lord Baelish for his crimes, I decided to send him to the Night's Watch instead. There he would hopefully work for the good of the realm, continuing from where he left off after leaving for the Vale years ago. I dared not forgive him, knowing that it would be the same as tossing a coin. Littlefinger had been blessed with towering intellect and it only made him more dangerous. Even though I left him alive, I still had his daughter in my custody and she remained the ruler of Harrenhal and the surrounding lands after his father's exile to the Wall. The title was only formal, though, and she remained a hostage who I sent to King's Landing to be tutored by Grand Maester Medwick. I myself first departed for Chyttering Brook, where a tourney was to be held in celebration for the victorious war. After House Chyttering had sided with Lord Stannis in War of the Five Kings, it's lord was replaced with Morgan Rundell at my own behest.
The Lord Commander had returned to the capital at my command. After the conversation we had in Harrenhal, our relations had gotten more than awkward and I thought best if I had time of my own. All I wanted to do was drink in good company and knock a few opponents off their horses without having to think who my true parents were. The people around me had heard the rumours no doubt, yet they still clung to me as their king. For the time being I wanted to forget the hard truth and the words he told me, knowing that there'd be a time later when I'd have to make decisions. I could not run from the fact forever, yet I would not let it ruin me either.
I wanted to use every opportunity I had to avoid having to confront my wife Margaery, and the thought of a tourney also intrigued me. I had practiced jousting, yet I had not put my skills to test in an actual event. Chyttering Brook was not important due to it's location, but the Blackwater Rush turned into two smaller rivers at the location where the tourney was to be held. Travelling by river was easy way to reach the contest ground, and people came on boats from King's Landing to spectate the event. Along with me from Harrenhal travelled more than five hundred men, mostly knights from Reach, Vale and Westerlands, planning to make a stop at the tourney before heading back home from war.
We took an old forest road, riding it south all the way to Chyttering Brook. The countryside was poor, but the mere sight of me seemed to bring delight to the lives of the commoners. It was enlightening to see where my people lived, as labourers like them were the backbone to my kingdom. At peace those people worked hard to keep the kingdom fed and coffers filled, whereas during war the same men marched to battle against my enemies. People like them were the backbone of my kingdom, and I told my ward, Ryan, to heed that advice well. The boy was too young to rule in his own name, but his time would come.
The people in Chyttering Brook welcomed me with open arms, and praised my martial feat of returning the Riverlands back to the realm. My scar was quickly noticed, and the tale of Ser Lothor's demise by my sword soon was on everyone's lips. There was no question who the crowd's favorite was when the actual competition began. Most knights had already returned to their homes from war, as the small tourney of Chyttering Brook didn't interest them. Still, close to a hundred knights and other nobles put their skills to test. I had not brought my own equipment with me, but Lord Morgan was generous enough to offer me a few lances from his own armory. The rest I already had with me.
Ser Osmund, Ser Meryn and Ser Robert remained at my side. I had a personal seat reserved for the king only, and watched most of the tilts, trying to see what my opponents were capable of. Ser Osmund's younger brother, Ser Osney, had travelled from King's Landing and had been defeated in the first rounds. He decided it was appropriate to join my company whenever his brother was guarding me, and I had to listen to his cynical comments and remarks about whatever seemed to displease him. At first I didn't mind it at all, but after a few days he became an annoyance. He learned to stay out of my sight after I gave him a handful of coins and told him to go get laid.
The comment I said reminded me of the fact that I had not been with a woman for months. I had not heard any news from the capital, but I knew I'd have to face Margaery once I'd return to there. She was my queen, the mother of my child despite everything she had done and I was ready to forgive her if she had learned from her mistakes. Still, I was unsure whether she would be able to forgive me; when I had implied what had happened to Moon Boy, the reaction she gave me was sincere. She had feelings for the jester, perhaps even love. I had taken that from her by force and given sadness and lone nights while I myself was at war, far away from her bed.
I was lonely as well, and it made me well aware of the glances I was given by a certain lady. Ser Roland Bolling's wife Jocelyn was a true beauty, and I found myself wondering whether I should try finding happiness in the arms of another. Part of me wanted to have revenge on Margaery, but the other part assured me I'd not be any better than her if I seized the moment. A hope that our marriage would survive this all is what kept me going, and I decided to stay strong.
The tourney was not only about the jousting. There was also an archery competition and a melee contest. I personally took part in the latter one and got to show my virtuous talent in swordplay to the spectators. For now I had been hiding in the training yard of the Red Keep, honing my skills. That day, however, I finally brought them to light and let the world see what I was capable of. Time after time I prevailed, and finally the people came to conclusion there was no finer swordsman, no man to match my godlike technique. I knew better, though.
I was lucky that Ser Robert had not taken part in the tourney; he was one of the few men I was truly afraid of, and I was glad I had never sparred with him. I'd only seen the mysterious giant fight once before the Battle of Erenford when I had called him as my champion in a trial by combat after Lord Stannis's defeat, and even then my Kingsguard made short work of his enemy in no time. Ser Robert Strong was a living legend. I had never seen his true face, heard him speak or practice fighting, but I held the utmost respect for the man and knew him to be one of my most loyal and capable bodyguards.
The jousting tournament was a whole different matter than the close combat competition. Any man could partake the melee contest, whereas to join the jousting list you'd have to own the right equipment. I rode a black mane that I had gotten as a replacer to the one that had died under me in the Battle of Erenford and used the armor I'd been wearing throughout the campaign. When my name was finally shouted, I rode to the field in my black-and-gold armor, the golden hair of mine shining in summer sun. I took heart from all the praises and cheers that people shouted, trying to stay calm when facing my first opponent. Who I'd been facing had been decided earlier with straws, and I knew little of the man. Some hedge knight, and hopefully worthy jousting against me.
I had not accepted my ward Ryan as my squire just yet, so it came to Ser Osmund to hand me my helmet and lance. He wished me good luck, and I rode to the other end of the field to await for the sign to begin. When it was granted, I rode forth and tilted my lance and pointed it at my opponent. All the talk about time slowing down is lies, in battle and jousting both. It's the other way around; time almost seems to move faster, and only after it is done, you realize what just happened. I remember feeling how I the lance hit me and how my arm felt after I had struck my opponent. I heard the crowd cheer and noticed I was still on horseback whereas my opponent wasn't.
I prevailed in the early rounds and as the competition went forward, I met more seasoned opponents. Somehow none of them seemed to be able to knock me off, and so I remained on the horseback and grew accustomed to the crowd cheering for my victories. From the looks my opponents gave me, I saw envy and anger; they truly had tried to knock me off, and did not simply lose because I was the king. When the tournament grew closer to the end, the last competitions were held. Lord Gabriel Darkholme of Rollingford, one of generals won the third place, whereas I met Ser Galan - a local knight and the ser of Castle Aelwick - in the final. My opponent was a no name who was known only to the locals, yet he fought well all the same. After three tilts, I finally prevailed and became the champion.
After the tournament was done, Lord Morgan held a feast in his halls. Wine flowed and fires burned through the night, yet I kept my head clear and remained exemplary. I had never been fond of eating and drinking a lot, yet I felt welcome in the people's company. Not only was I the king, but also the champion of the tournament, and toasts were raised in my name. Not everyone's intentions were to have fun, though; Lord Lester Morrigan approached me that night, asking if he could be bestowed the Stormlands. My first thought was that I'd never give up the Storm's End, it being the ancestral seat of the House Baratheon. Only then I remembered what I'd been told in Harrenhal. I denied Lord Morrigan's request, knowing that people expected me to act as if I was King Robert's son. Just thinking about the truth made me gloomy and I ended up spending the night in solitude of my private tent. My mother was fucking her own brother.
The next morning, people were leaving. I meant to return to home, to my unfaithful wife, bodyguard father and newborn child until I was brought the news. Apparently Lord Norryn Gaunt was hosting another tournament in Dalston's Keep, near the border of Reach and Crownlands. The only reason why I wanted to return to the capital was Anora, but I wasn't ready to face the shadows that I knew to creep on the corridors of King's Landing. I announced that I'd be riding for Dalston's Keep.
My retinue had little choice. Ser Meryn and Ser Osmund both gave me annoyed looks whereas Ser Robert was silent as ever. Ryan came along as well, but he was more silent than before. Although the boy didn't say it, I knew he missed his mother. I'd allowed him to visit his father occasionally, but I deemed it wiser that I'd be the one raising him. Anora was but a baby, whereas I was still lacking the male heir. Having Ryan running around at my heels made me forget the fact, and I came to treat the boy like my own.
Lady Ravella Swann accompanied us on the road from Chyttering Brook to Dalston's Keep. She was the sister of the Kingsguard and my guardian Ser Balon, and after their eldest brother's early demise she had inherited their family lands in Stormlands. Trying to use her brother as a way to convince me, she requested that the Stormlands would be bestowed to her. I refused, of course, yet she wasn't satisfied; Lady Ravella let me know that she was very influential noble, and that she would use her connections to stain my name for hoarding titles. I still denied her request, even if it would harm my reputation. Ser Balon himself remained in King's Landing, and I heard he had sired a son while I was gone at war. As a Kingsguard, he was to be in celibacy, and I was surprised to hear that Ser Balon - of all my white cloaks - had broken that vow. The mother was a lowborn girl who had died in childbirth, but the boy lived and Ser Balon had taken him into the Red Keep under his protection.
Although I myself was heading to Dalston's Keep, I gave the order to a messenger to inform the small council that I wished to host a summer fair in King's Landing. It'd take time for all the realm to hear about it, but I wanted the capital to enjoy it's share of the victory and celebrating. The prospect of arriving to King's Landing in the middle of the fair was a welcome thought. First, however, there was the tourney in Dalston's Keep.
Once we arrived to the tourney ground on Lord Norryn Gaunt's lands, all the tiredness and wishes to return home were soon forgotten. Lord Norryn's event was even finer than the one I'd taken part previously. As the province was along the Roseroad that led from King's Landing to Highgarden, Crownlanders, Stormlanders and Reachmen attended the tourney. I met old faces from war and made new acquaintance with lords I had not met before.
There's not much to be told about the tournament itself. Like the one in Chyttering Brook, it consisted of melee and archery contest, yet the main event was the jousting tournament. Time after time I prevailed, both in melee and jousting. Archery had never been my kind of a thing and I had not trained it as much as fighting with swords. My guardian Ser Balon was surprisingly good at it, though, but a knight's place in battle was on horseback. The only opponent that gave me trouble was Ser Rickard 'Silveraxe' Fell. The man was just as formidable fighter as I was, yet he also posessed the strength only few men did. The man beat me in melee, yet we had a rematch when it came to the jousting.
I met Silveraxe in jousting finale and after five tilts finally dropped him from his horse. Though Ser Rickard had won the melee, the jousting mattered more and so I was crowned the champion of the tournament. I soon found myself pitying that Ser Rickard was married as he would've made an excellent Kingsguard.
I began the journey to King's Landing, knowing that I finally had to face my wife, father and the burden of being the king. I first thought I was sick of the thought, but soon I noticed I was actually feeling worse. I had not let the wound in my face completely heal, thinking it was only a scratch. It, however, began to hurt more and more during the journey and I soon noticed that I was suffering from a fever. Barely being able to ride a horse whilst wearing my heavy armor, I continued the journey to King's Landing in a stagecoach. I always imagined my homecoming would be on a horseback, clad in my shining armor at the head of an army.. but this would have to suffice.
My Kingsguards got even more to worry about when I began coughing. Breathing had become harder, and my chest hurt like never before. I had no idea where it all started, and eventually I was coughing up blood. I'm dying, I realized. Daeron Targaryen, also known as the Young Dragon, had only been fourteen when he became the King. Joffrey had been twelve, whereas I beat the record by being nine. And if I was to die now, I'd be leaving the Seven Kingdoms without a male heir.. Only a girl, still a baby at breast. She wouldn't survive the struggle that would follow, I knew. Realms with child rulers were always doomed, just like their rulers. I had survived only because of the Tyrells. As ironic as it was, according to Littlefinger the same house had conspired against the throne all that time.
As I laid dying and entered the twilight zone between two worlds, old memories flowed through my mind. I'm eight and I see Margaery for the first time, presented by her brother Ser Loras. My brother agrees to wed her.. I'm nine and marry her myself in a smaller wedding than Joffrey had. Later I watch as the Tower of the Hand succumbs to flames of wildfire.. Lord Rosby approaches me, telling me that Margaery has been stealing from the treasury.. I'm eleven when Jaime enters my room and tells me about the rumours, saying I should not listen to them and that my father's watching over me.. A year later my mother dies, and I'm left thinking that both my parents are dead.. I turn fourteen and Margaery joins me in my chamber for the first time.. I'm fifteen and she tells me she's pregnant.. As I become sixteen, Lord Bolton tells me she's been fucking the court jester behind my back.. I stand on top of Kingspyre Tower and hear the hard truth about my parents. Cold wind beats against my face, but the words hurt me more..
Jaime enters my room, and I ask him about the truth. He tells it to me. ''Your mother and I came to this world together. We were meant to be together in life, too.'' I watch him in silence and he tells me how the Targaryens also married their siblings. I rub my eyes in disbelief and he goes on, saying how my mother and he were one, and only together they were whole. I finally turn my eyes to his, telling him to shut up. I refill my wine cup, get up on my feet and head to the window. I order him to leave, and for a moment he hesitates. He says something to me, but I do not listen and nor say anything. When he finally takes his leave, I empty my cup and end up spending the next two days within that room, not receiving anyone. I feel betrayed and even more alone than when I heard about Margaery's affair. When the third day comes, I finally leave my room and ride south, trying to escape the truth.
''We're almost at King's Landing, your Grace'', someone tells me and I stir up from my feverish dreams. I try to rise to sit, but just the effort takes most of my powers. The smell in my nostrils is more than familiar, and no long after we pass through the King's Gate. The windows of the stagecoach are kept closed, yet I can hear the masses shout out my name. I close my eyes remembering the roar of the crowd when I dropped Silveraxe from his horse and the clash of battle all around me when I was suddenly pulled to real world after losing my horse. I did not remember how many men I slew when riding down the enemy troops, but on foot the count had been three. I never gave up, yet I this fight I'm currently having is different .. and I don't know if I can win it.
The voices grew more silent and I knew we had arrived in the Red Keep. I felt the stagecoach stop and I saw Ser Osmund pull open the door of the stagecoach. I got up to my feet and stepped outside. Ser Osmund said something, but I didn't listen - I only saw the faces that had gathered around me. I knew them more than well, and the looks they gave me turned serious and shocked. I probably look like half-a-corpse. I took a few arduous steps forward and suddenly bent over and began coughing blood. I felt how both my shoulders were grabbed and the hold was firm. ''Where is my wife?'', I said when the cough ended, not even sure from who I was asking. I tried to repeat the question, but the voices in my head had quieted and my vision turned into black.
When I regained my consciousness, I was in my own bed in Maegor's Holdfast. Ser Jaime.. my father.. was there, sitting beside me. When he noticed I was awake, he suddenly stood up and stared at me with a concern look on his face. I looked into his eyes for a long moment, and we didn't say anything. We had not seen each other after our conversation in Harrenhal, and I noticed uncertainity in the man's eyes. I had ran, knowing that I'd need to clear my head before making my decision on what to do about the fact that I wasn't King Robert's son at all. It doesn't matter, though. The Baratheon line is extinguished, and I lay here, dying. I somehow felt pity for the man in front of me, and though I didn't fully understand his actions or what he had gone through with my mother, I knew he cared for me more than anything. Though no words passed from my lips, I gave my father a sad smile as a sign that I had forgiven him.
''Bring me Margaery'', I said almost as quietly as a whisper. My father's gaze turned to the ground, and I saw remorse in his eyes. He then nodded and turned around, and I closed my eyes, drifting back into feverish sleep. I woke up to the door being opened, unsure how much time had passed. My wife stepped inside, accompanied by Ser Jaime. The first thing my eyes noticed was her swollen stomach. She's pregnant, I realized and felt joy for the first time in a long time. When I saw the repentant look on her face and the seriousness of Ser Jaime, I realized the child wasn't mine.
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Oh dear oh dear oh dear...
A couple of minor points of English: it's 'slew' not 'slayed' and you don't spectate something. You can spectate or you can watch something but in English we don't say 'I spectated' this or that
Otherwise excellent stuff
A couple of minor points of English: it's 'slew' not 'slayed' and you don't spectate something. You can spectate or you can watch something but in English we don't say 'I spectated' this or that
Otherwise excellent stuff
Fixed them.
My saves do not work with the new patch of the mod. Kind of a pity, but I can still continue playing with the old version.
My saves do not work with the new patch of the mod. Kind of a pity, but I can still continue playing with the old version.
The Little Cub
Part 17 - Valar Morghulis
--
When I returned to the capital, weakened by pneumonia and the wound, I was ready to forgive my wife for her affair with the Moon Boy. My mother had cheated her husband, the king, with her twin brother for years and their affair had resulted with three children born from incest - me included. Now the Tyrells were following their example in having unusual desires. My Kingsguard Ser Loras and his brother Lord Garlan of Manderford were rumoured to be attracted men, Lord Mace himself had taken his eldest son, Willas's wife as his lover, whereas Lord Mace's own wife Joy Hill was rumoured to have an affair with another Tyrell. Lucas, I think his name was. Not that I could blame them, being a by-blow myself, even with the crown upon my head.
When the truth was revealed to me upon seeing Margaery's stomach, everything changed. I wasn't sure what to think and asked myself if this was the price I had to pay for my existence. The Gods never answered and I was left without an answer, lying on my bed coughing blood. In my delirious state I began to wonder if what I saw even was real. Then came the question. ''Whose is it?''
I had left Ser Balon and Ser Boros in the capital to look after her and our daughter and even informed my former guardian of her unfaithfulness. My kingsguards tailed her day and night and Ser Balon made sure she didn't meet any man alone. Except for Grand Maester Medwick. Like Lady Margaery, he also belonged to the Small Council and it was common that fellow councillors often had discussions on free time. Ser Balon had assumed it was nothing he should worry about since Medwick was a relative of hers and bound to celibacy as a Maester. He was wrong.
One time when Maester Medwick attempted to visit her chambers, Ser Balon realized something was awry. When he asked the Maester how he was doing, the man began to sweat. Medwick had never been good with words even though he was a diligent and honorable man and good in his work besides. The Kingsguard proceeded to search the man and to his dismay found out the Maester was bringing moon tea to the Queen. The drink was traditionally used to cause miscarriages and there was only one reason why he would bring it to Margaery. Ser Balon discreetly took them both into his custody and did his best to make sure the court wouldn't learn about the Queen's betrayal.
That was when Lord Commander Jaime arrived from Harrenhal and not many days later came Lord Mace Tyrell. Margaery's father understood the situation and remained quiet, not raising his voice about her imprisonment. Together with Ser Jaime they agreed to wait until I'd arrive and decide about her fate. The Tyrells had been allies of the crown for about seven years, backing me in my wars against Stannis, Aegon and Littlefinger and Lord Mace trusted that I'd show mercy to his daughter because of it. Lord Tyrell's always been a fool, even if a useful one. Yet my love for jesters was dead.
I fired Lord Mace Tyrell from his position as the Hand of the King and gave it to a more talented man with a less known family name. Ser Amory, a lowborn man I gave control of part of Dragonstone some years back. A brilliant steward and an ideal person for his new position. I gave order for him to hold a trial for Grand Maester Medwick and Queen Margaery, leaving their fate in their own hands. Traditionally it was the Hand's job to overseer trials and for some reason I was not comfortable with Lord Mace being the judge in her own daughter's trial. Executing them straight away was not my intention, although I knew their time at my court would end one way or another. It was only just that they were given a trial, even if that meant the truth would be revealed to the rest of the world. I did not know if Margaery had told her father of anyone about her past affair with the court jester, but I presumed it wouldn't justify my actions any more in Lord Mace's eyes. I had imprisoned her daughter, accused her of adultery and let the rest of the world see it. The Reach is lost to me.
I did not expect Lord Mace or his son Ser Loras to take the law into their own hands, but Ser Jaime insisted that I'd make sure they didn't. First step was to make sure Ser Loras wouldn't be permitted to approach the me, Margaery or Anora on his own, yet the Lord Commander had already taken care of that. The second step needed my permission, though; The Commander of the Goldcloaks was Ser Horas Redwyne, my wife's cousin. I understood what Jaime meant and gave order to remove Ser Horas from his position and grant it to Ser Rolland Storm, the Bastard of Nightsong. Lord Mace was unlike to buy anyone else's loyalty with Highgarden's treasury empty. After the Queen of Thorns had died and most of Lord Mace's troublesome vassals were stripped off their titles for supporting Stannis, no one criticized the way he ruled the Reach. The man had ambition, that was for sure, yet he lacked pretty much everything that was required from a good ruler and had brought his realm to the brink of a bankruptcy.
I was not present at the trial as my condition forbid me from rising from the bed. While I laid on my bed, coughing blood, Ser Amory held the trial in the throne room. I did not like the man much, but he had wit more than most. I gave order for Ser Amory not to sit on the Iron Throne, assuming that suddenly giving such power to a man I barely knew would've been too much. Ser Jaime was there beside him, though, and I knew his presence would ensure the court that the trial was backed by me. I had granted Ser Amory a permission to execute them both if judged guilty, and there was no question to me what the trial's result would be. Margaery was pregnant and according to Ser Balon Grand Maester Medwick had confessed the affair. I gave no hint to Ser Amory about Margaery's past relationship with the man whose name I won't say and presumed my wife wouldn't mention anything about it either. My pride had been wounded more than enough, just as hers, and I wanted to avoid unnecessary questions if possible.
Ser Amory later came to my inform me of what had happened. Lady Margaery had requested a trial by combat at the beginning, so her fate would have to wait. As her champion she'd selected her brother, Lord Garlan Tyrell of Manderford, who was in the Reach. It saved me the trouble of having to force two of my kingsguards to fight one another if she had picked Ser Loras instead. Grand Maester Medwick, accused exactly of the same crimes as Margaery, was judged with a trial of words. My new Hand started to explain in detail what he had said but I silenced the man. I didn't want to know why Medwick and Margaery had gotten into a relationship or how and only wanted the nightmare to end.
Amory told me Medwick been found guilty and that the Grand Maester had been executed right away there, in front of the court and Lady Margaery and that his head now rested on a spike atop the Red Keep's gate. What was done was done, and though I would've done things a bit differently, I had wanted Medwick dead and Amory had made my wish come true. So two letters were sent to Reach that very same day; one to Oldtown to inform the Citadel that a new Grand Maester was needed and one to Highgarden saying Ser Garlan was to arrive to the capital. My wife's decision to be judged in a trial by combat was clever; the proof of her guilt was evident. Still, a single slash of a sword could change everything.
After the trial my condition got better. I did cough a bit, but no blood came with it. The fever had run its course and I rose from the bed for the first time in weeks. I still felt weak and my wound kept bothering me but the worst was over. I was alive. Anywhere I went, people took amazed gazes at me. Like me, they thought I was dying. The cold air felt welcome against my cheeks after having been burning with a fever for so long. Anora had been taken care of by a wetnurse after Margaery's imprisonment and I paid her a visit. I had not wanted to see the child when I was still sick because she reminded me of her mother, yet now I found myself from her side. She had grown since I last seen her and seemed happy and ignorant of the pain that was hidden inside me. As I stared into her eyes, the eyes she had inherited from her mother, I forgot everything else in the world for a moment.
Mathin, a courtier with talent in cloak and dagger that I had appointed as a Small Council Advisor before leaving to war informed me that Lord Robert Arryn had returned to Riverlands with his army, hoping to push his heir, Harrold Arryn's spouse Sansa Stark's claim over the lands. Lady Paramount Lyssa Baelish was still in the capital although her guardian, Grand Maester Medwick had lost his life. The girl was still but a child and had no idea that she was currently being robbed of her titles. I was taken aback by the fact that Littlefinger's protege now made a move against his mentor's own child and sent a letter to the Riverlands that Lord Arryn should immediately stop his actions. I had other plans for the Riverlands and Robert Arryn wouldn't be allowed to ruin them.
The air had become colder indeed. Medwick no longer took care of the ravenry, and I had assigned Mathin to do that until a new Grand Maester would arrive. One day he told me that a huge, white raven had arrived this morning. The winter has come, I realized. Only one Stark had survived the last one yet their words lived on nevertheless. Many noble houses had gone to extinction after War of the Five Kings and for some reason I felt pity for them. Starks, Baratheons, Florents.. but not Tullys. I would make sure of that.
Speaking of Tullies, Roslin Frey requested an audience with me not long after. When I agreed to it and received the wife of Edmure Tully in my chambers, she went to her knees and begged that I'd release her husband from his cell. Edmure Tully still remained locked in the tower of Traitor's Walk, though it had been seven or eight years from the war. I had lost the count. I promised Roslin I'd set her husband free if Edmure swore he'd never again take up arms against the Iron Throne and me. They were free to go wherever they'd want, but their only child Ryan would remain in the capital as my page. I promised I'd take good care of the boy, take him as my squire and give him lands later on if everything went well. Still, he'd be a hostage and they knew it.
More letters arrived. Lord Robert Arryn refused to stop his war in the Riverlands, claiming his war had a just cause and I had no right to order him down. He's wrong in that. I'm his liege, and it's my duty to make sure the Seven Kingdoms remain in peace. I knew that if I acted against Lord Robert, the realm could succumb into chaos once again. I had the Westerlands, Stormlands and Crownlands, yet the North, Reach, Dorne and Vale might well turn on me if I did the wrong move. Acknowledging the possible risks it had, I sent a thousand men to Riverlands with orders to imprison Lord Robert Arryn on accuses of treason and escort him to the Wall to take the Black. The Vale would pass to Harrold Arryn, a more charismatic ruler than the slow and weak Robert Arryn. Still, the war's purpose was to press Sansa Stark's claim on the Riverlands, who was Harrold's wife, and I knew he might not agree to my terms.
As the days passed, I received another letter from the Riverlands, signed by Harrold Arryn that he had taken over the Vale's armies and now marched back home as the new Lord Paramount whereas Robert Arryn was sent to the Wall. I was relieved to hear that further bloodshed was avoided and that the Vale had a more trustworthy ruler. I sent my regards to Lord Harrold and informed him that I was willing to take his heir, Damon, as my ward. It was a good way to tie the Vale to the realm; young Damon would rule the Vale one day and it was for the best that he grew up to be close with those he was to serve.
We had awaited for Garlan Tyrell's arrival for weeks. Margaery had asked for more suitable accomodations and I accepted her request, ordering her to be moved to her old chamber. Though we were married and had spent the nights together, she nevertheless had a separate room for her own belongings which now came in handy. There were three guards outside her door all around the clock and never one of them a Tyrell. The Kingsguard's duty is not only to protect the king, but also his family. Therefore Ser Jaime was responsible of her and only from him one could get a permission to visit the Queen. The Lord Commander never allowed her to meet someone alone and kept me well informed of who she met and what they spoke about.
When I was brought the news that Garlan Tyrell had finally arrived, I nodded to the messenger and walked to Anora's room and grabbed her with me. Now or never is the time I need to face Margaery, I thought to myself, knowing she'd want to see our child one last time before the trial. The guards outside her chambers opened the door and stepped aside and I entered her room with the child in my arms. Though the chamber was dark, I could see my wife sit in front of an open window, looking silently outside. She didn't seem to care about the sound of the door being opened and turned only once Anora let out a childish chuckle. The door was closed after me and I stopped where I was, looking over at her. I could see confusion in her eyes at first, yet then she realized why I had come. ''My brother has arrived, hasn't he?''
I nodded as an answer and took steps forward, moving to her side by the window. We didn't say anything, though in my head I'd gone through this situation a countless times, thinking what I would tell her. Now that I was there with the woman I had known ever since I was a child, saying anything felt unnecessary. She was quiet as well and I think the thought of his brother losing the trial had crossed her mind. In that case this is her and her brother's last day among the living. ''It's sad how the things turned out'', Margaery finally said and turned her gaze from the child in my arms to my eyes.
I shrugged as if I didn't care, although her words meant more than the whole world to me. ''I was ready to forgive you.. until I realized you'd betrayed me.. again.'' I didn't see if my words had any affect on Margaery and she held a long pause before replying: ''It's no use talking about the past as I may not have to live with my actions for long.'' Still, I found myself thinking why she had bedded those men. Was I not any better than a fool or a stuborn bookworm? Perhaps I wasn't of her type, perhaps she'd thought I'd never forgive her or mayhaps she had only been lonely after Moon Boy's death and seeked solace from the arms of someone else whilst I was away. I didn't know but then again I wasn't sure if I even wanted to.
''Who will my brother have to face?'', Margaery asked with a quiet voice and took an uncertain look at me. When I heard she'd demanded a trial by combat, I was tempted to make Lord Garlan fight against Ser Loras and by that humiliate the Tyrells even more. One way or another, Margaery would've suffered. Yet once the cough had released it's grip of me, I understood my anger was caused by the frustration of not being able to do anything and forgot the thought. If I I chose Ser Loras, he might refuse and I would lose his trust. And if he had accepted, Ser Loras could lose the fight on purpose and die in his brother's place, allowing her sister to keep her life. To spare Ser Loras of having to make the decision, I had chosen another one to champion me instead. ''Ser Robert'', I replied and saw fear in Margaery's eyes. My silent giant, an embodiment of the Warrior and the Stranger both. I offered to give Anora to her and she took the child in her arms. I let Margaery hold her child silently for a moment, knowing this may be the last time they saw each other. When the door was knocked on, I turned to her. ''It's time.''
The trial was held in the throne room like Grand Maester Medwick's with the exception that I was present. As I walked through the court to my throne, Garlan Tyrell awaited for me at its steps. He bowed his head as I walked past him, climbing up the steps to occupy the crude throne. Once seated, I took a glance down at the crowd. Lord Commander Jaime had made sure everyone was disarmed except for the Kingsguards and Garlan Tyrell. A wise move, though I doubt Lord Mace will try anything. But who knows.. the thought of losing two children at once may be too much for him. I took a deep breath and then began speaking with a loud voice; ''Whilst I was at war, my lady-wife Margaery Tyrell took another man into our bed. As you no doubt know, there's no question whether she's innocent or not; the fruit of debauchery grows inside of her, a child sired by late Grand Maester Medwick. We know this for certain, but Lady Margaery has requested for her innocence to be tested in front of the God's eyes. A trial by combat will decide whether the Seven forgive Lady Margaery for her sins. Ser Robert, Lord Garlan.. you've been chosen as the champions for this trial. May the Seven guide your hands and cast a just judgement on the accused.''
Lord Garlan Tyrell donned his helmet and drew his sword, turning around to face the crowd. His squire handed him a shield which displayed rose of the House Tyrell. The second son of Lord Mace Tyrell was an honorable man with quick temper and deadly skills in fighting. My Kingsguard Ser Robert was two heads taller than him, though, and much stronger. Clad in his white armor, he walked to the center and drew his longsword from its sheath. As the men faced each other, I gave the sign to begin. Ser Robert moved forward immediately, not giving Lord Garlan any time to prepare. The swordsman in me admired the sight of two formidable fighters struggling for their life, yet the king in me was worried. I had expected Lord Garlan to lose, yet he put up a good fight and used his smaller size to his advantage. He moved quickly, dodging Ser Robert's heavy and ferocious strikes instead of blocking them.
Ser Robert didn't seem to get exhausted and kept pushing forward, not giving Lord Garlan a single chance to catch his breath. The Kingsguard had forced the Tyrell to defend himself, and he moved backwards with every step that Ser Robert took forward. Then it happened. Lord Garlan let out a moan as his left leg slipped, and he seemed to lose his balance. The crowd held their breath and some let out terrified cries. Ser Robert got ready to give one last blow which would finish his opponent, but then Lord Garlan jumped forward, having only pretended that he slipped to get the hole he needed in his opponent's defence. His sword sunk in Ser Robert's throat, and the Kingsguard's finishing blow never came.
For the first time I heard Ser Robert let out a sound, a moan of pain, followed by a loud crash when he fell on his back on the floor, Lord Garlan's sword still in his neck. The court cheered for Lord Garlan and I held the handles of the throne harder, still not believing that someone actually had defeated the man I always thought to be invincible. Lord Garlan pulled his sword from Ser Robert's neck and suddenly saw something that left him wordless. The crowd became silent and I tried to see what was going on. Then I saw it too. The blood coming from Ser Robert's wound was not red but black. I could not see Lord Garlan's facial expression as his back was towards me, but I noticed how he took a step forward, crouched and began to remove Ser Robert's helmet. The knight had always hidden his face behind that helm and never spoke a word, so his identity was one of the biggest mysteries in the court.
I got up to my feet and walked down the steps to Lord Garlan's side. He was still crouching beside his fallen opponent, silenced by the sight. I took a look at the man's face. Though Ser Robert had been dead for only a moment, he was pale as milk and all his veins had turned to black. ''What is dead may never die'', Lord Garlan said to me almost as quiet as a whisper. The man behind Ser Robert's helmet had been seen last time almost a decade ago, but the court still remembered him.
The Mountain had cheated death once before, but now he rode no more.
Part 17 - Valar Morghulis
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When I returned to the capital, weakened by pneumonia and the wound, I was ready to forgive my wife for her affair with the Moon Boy. My mother had cheated her husband, the king, with her twin brother for years and their affair had resulted with three children born from incest - me included. Now the Tyrells were following their example in having unusual desires. My Kingsguard Ser Loras and his brother Lord Garlan of Manderford were rumoured to be attracted men, Lord Mace himself had taken his eldest son, Willas's wife as his lover, whereas Lord Mace's own wife Joy Hill was rumoured to have an affair with another Tyrell. Lucas, I think his name was. Not that I could blame them, being a by-blow myself, even with the crown upon my head.
When the truth was revealed to me upon seeing Margaery's stomach, everything changed. I wasn't sure what to think and asked myself if this was the price I had to pay for my existence. The Gods never answered and I was left without an answer, lying on my bed coughing blood. In my delirious state I began to wonder if what I saw even was real. Then came the question. ''Whose is it?''
I had left Ser Balon and Ser Boros in the capital to look after her and our daughter and even informed my former guardian of her unfaithfulness. My kingsguards tailed her day and night and Ser Balon made sure she didn't meet any man alone. Except for Grand Maester Medwick. Like Lady Margaery, he also belonged to the Small Council and it was common that fellow councillors often had discussions on free time. Ser Balon had assumed it was nothing he should worry about since Medwick was a relative of hers and bound to celibacy as a Maester. He was wrong.
One time when Maester Medwick attempted to visit her chambers, Ser Balon realized something was awry. When he asked the Maester how he was doing, the man began to sweat. Medwick had never been good with words even though he was a diligent and honorable man and good in his work besides. The Kingsguard proceeded to search the man and to his dismay found out the Maester was bringing moon tea to the Queen. The drink was traditionally used to cause miscarriages and there was only one reason why he would bring it to Margaery. Ser Balon discreetly took them both into his custody and did his best to make sure the court wouldn't learn about the Queen's betrayal.
That was when Lord Commander Jaime arrived from Harrenhal and not many days later came Lord Mace Tyrell. Margaery's father understood the situation and remained quiet, not raising his voice about her imprisonment. Together with Ser Jaime they agreed to wait until I'd arrive and decide about her fate. The Tyrells had been allies of the crown for about seven years, backing me in my wars against Stannis, Aegon and Littlefinger and Lord Mace trusted that I'd show mercy to his daughter because of it. Lord Tyrell's always been a fool, even if a useful one. Yet my love for jesters was dead.
I fired Lord Mace Tyrell from his position as the Hand of the King and gave it to a more talented man with a less known family name. Ser Amory, a lowborn man I gave control of part of Dragonstone some years back. A brilliant steward and an ideal person for his new position. I gave order for him to hold a trial for Grand Maester Medwick and Queen Margaery, leaving their fate in their own hands. Traditionally it was the Hand's job to overseer trials and for some reason I was not comfortable with Lord Mace being the judge in her own daughter's trial. Executing them straight away was not my intention, although I knew their time at my court would end one way or another. It was only just that they were given a trial, even if that meant the truth would be revealed to the rest of the world. I did not know if Margaery had told her father of anyone about her past affair with the court jester, but I presumed it wouldn't justify my actions any more in Lord Mace's eyes. I had imprisoned her daughter, accused her of adultery and let the rest of the world see it. The Reach is lost to me.
I did not expect Lord Mace or his son Ser Loras to take the law into their own hands, but Ser Jaime insisted that I'd make sure they didn't. First step was to make sure Ser Loras wouldn't be permitted to approach the me, Margaery or Anora on his own, yet the Lord Commander had already taken care of that. The second step needed my permission, though; The Commander of the Goldcloaks was Ser Horas Redwyne, my wife's cousin. I understood what Jaime meant and gave order to remove Ser Horas from his position and grant it to Ser Rolland Storm, the Bastard of Nightsong. Lord Mace was unlike to buy anyone else's loyalty with Highgarden's treasury empty. After the Queen of Thorns had died and most of Lord Mace's troublesome vassals were stripped off their titles for supporting Stannis, no one criticized the way he ruled the Reach. The man had ambition, that was for sure, yet he lacked pretty much everything that was required from a good ruler and had brought his realm to the brink of a bankruptcy.
I was not present at the trial as my condition forbid me from rising from the bed. While I laid on my bed, coughing blood, Ser Amory held the trial in the throne room. I did not like the man much, but he had wit more than most. I gave order for Ser Amory not to sit on the Iron Throne, assuming that suddenly giving such power to a man I barely knew would've been too much. Ser Jaime was there beside him, though, and I knew his presence would ensure the court that the trial was backed by me. I had granted Ser Amory a permission to execute them both if judged guilty, and there was no question to me what the trial's result would be. Margaery was pregnant and according to Ser Balon Grand Maester Medwick had confessed the affair. I gave no hint to Ser Amory about Margaery's past relationship with the man whose name I won't say and presumed my wife wouldn't mention anything about it either. My pride had been wounded more than enough, just as hers, and I wanted to avoid unnecessary questions if possible.
Ser Amory later came to my inform me of what had happened. Lady Margaery had requested a trial by combat at the beginning, so her fate would have to wait. As her champion she'd selected her brother, Lord Garlan Tyrell of Manderford, who was in the Reach. It saved me the trouble of having to force two of my kingsguards to fight one another if she had picked Ser Loras instead. Grand Maester Medwick, accused exactly of the same crimes as Margaery, was judged with a trial of words. My new Hand started to explain in detail what he had said but I silenced the man. I didn't want to know why Medwick and Margaery had gotten into a relationship or how and only wanted the nightmare to end.
Amory told me Medwick been found guilty and that the Grand Maester had been executed right away there, in front of the court and Lady Margaery and that his head now rested on a spike atop the Red Keep's gate. What was done was done, and though I would've done things a bit differently, I had wanted Medwick dead and Amory had made my wish come true. So two letters were sent to Reach that very same day; one to Oldtown to inform the Citadel that a new Grand Maester was needed and one to Highgarden saying Ser Garlan was to arrive to the capital. My wife's decision to be judged in a trial by combat was clever; the proof of her guilt was evident. Still, a single slash of a sword could change everything.
After the trial my condition got better. I did cough a bit, but no blood came with it. The fever had run its course and I rose from the bed for the first time in weeks. I still felt weak and my wound kept bothering me but the worst was over. I was alive. Anywhere I went, people took amazed gazes at me. Like me, they thought I was dying. The cold air felt welcome against my cheeks after having been burning with a fever for so long. Anora had been taken care of by a wetnurse after Margaery's imprisonment and I paid her a visit. I had not wanted to see the child when I was still sick because she reminded me of her mother, yet now I found myself from her side. She had grown since I last seen her and seemed happy and ignorant of the pain that was hidden inside me. As I stared into her eyes, the eyes she had inherited from her mother, I forgot everything else in the world for a moment.
Mathin, a courtier with talent in cloak and dagger that I had appointed as a Small Council Advisor before leaving to war informed me that Lord Robert Arryn had returned to Riverlands with his army, hoping to push his heir, Harrold Arryn's spouse Sansa Stark's claim over the lands. Lady Paramount Lyssa Baelish was still in the capital although her guardian, Grand Maester Medwick had lost his life. The girl was still but a child and had no idea that she was currently being robbed of her titles. I was taken aback by the fact that Littlefinger's protege now made a move against his mentor's own child and sent a letter to the Riverlands that Lord Arryn should immediately stop his actions. I had other plans for the Riverlands and Robert Arryn wouldn't be allowed to ruin them.
The air had become colder indeed. Medwick no longer took care of the ravenry, and I had assigned Mathin to do that until a new Grand Maester would arrive. One day he told me that a huge, white raven had arrived this morning. The winter has come, I realized. Only one Stark had survived the last one yet their words lived on nevertheless. Many noble houses had gone to extinction after War of the Five Kings and for some reason I felt pity for them. Starks, Baratheons, Florents.. but not Tullys. I would make sure of that.
Speaking of Tullies, Roslin Frey requested an audience with me not long after. When I agreed to it and received the wife of Edmure Tully in my chambers, she went to her knees and begged that I'd release her husband from his cell. Edmure Tully still remained locked in the tower of Traitor's Walk, though it had been seven or eight years from the war. I had lost the count. I promised Roslin I'd set her husband free if Edmure swore he'd never again take up arms against the Iron Throne and me. They were free to go wherever they'd want, but their only child Ryan would remain in the capital as my page. I promised I'd take good care of the boy, take him as my squire and give him lands later on if everything went well. Still, he'd be a hostage and they knew it.
More letters arrived. Lord Robert Arryn refused to stop his war in the Riverlands, claiming his war had a just cause and I had no right to order him down. He's wrong in that. I'm his liege, and it's my duty to make sure the Seven Kingdoms remain in peace. I knew that if I acted against Lord Robert, the realm could succumb into chaos once again. I had the Westerlands, Stormlands and Crownlands, yet the North, Reach, Dorne and Vale might well turn on me if I did the wrong move. Acknowledging the possible risks it had, I sent a thousand men to Riverlands with orders to imprison Lord Robert Arryn on accuses of treason and escort him to the Wall to take the Black. The Vale would pass to Harrold Arryn, a more charismatic ruler than the slow and weak Robert Arryn. Still, the war's purpose was to press Sansa Stark's claim on the Riverlands, who was Harrold's wife, and I knew he might not agree to my terms.
As the days passed, I received another letter from the Riverlands, signed by Harrold Arryn that he had taken over the Vale's armies and now marched back home as the new Lord Paramount whereas Robert Arryn was sent to the Wall. I was relieved to hear that further bloodshed was avoided and that the Vale had a more trustworthy ruler. I sent my regards to Lord Harrold and informed him that I was willing to take his heir, Damon, as my ward. It was a good way to tie the Vale to the realm; young Damon would rule the Vale one day and it was for the best that he grew up to be close with those he was to serve.
We had awaited for Garlan Tyrell's arrival for weeks. Margaery had asked for more suitable accomodations and I accepted her request, ordering her to be moved to her old chamber. Though we were married and had spent the nights together, she nevertheless had a separate room for her own belongings which now came in handy. There were three guards outside her door all around the clock and never one of them a Tyrell. The Kingsguard's duty is not only to protect the king, but also his family. Therefore Ser Jaime was responsible of her and only from him one could get a permission to visit the Queen. The Lord Commander never allowed her to meet someone alone and kept me well informed of who she met and what they spoke about.
When I was brought the news that Garlan Tyrell had finally arrived, I nodded to the messenger and walked to Anora's room and grabbed her with me. Now or never is the time I need to face Margaery, I thought to myself, knowing she'd want to see our child one last time before the trial. The guards outside her chambers opened the door and stepped aside and I entered her room with the child in my arms. Though the chamber was dark, I could see my wife sit in front of an open window, looking silently outside. She didn't seem to care about the sound of the door being opened and turned only once Anora let out a childish chuckle. The door was closed after me and I stopped where I was, looking over at her. I could see confusion in her eyes at first, yet then she realized why I had come. ''My brother has arrived, hasn't he?''
I nodded as an answer and took steps forward, moving to her side by the window. We didn't say anything, though in my head I'd gone through this situation a countless times, thinking what I would tell her. Now that I was there with the woman I had known ever since I was a child, saying anything felt unnecessary. She was quiet as well and I think the thought of his brother losing the trial had crossed her mind. In that case this is her and her brother's last day among the living. ''It's sad how the things turned out'', Margaery finally said and turned her gaze from the child in my arms to my eyes.
I shrugged as if I didn't care, although her words meant more than the whole world to me. ''I was ready to forgive you.. until I realized you'd betrayed me.. again.'' I didn't see if my words had any affect on Margaery and she held a long pause before replying: ''It's no use talking about the past as I may not have to live with my actions for long.'' Still, I found myself thinking why she had bedded those men. Was I not any better than a fool or a stuborn bookworm? Perhaps I wasn't of her type, perhaps she'd thought I'd never forgive her or mayhaps she had only been lonely after Moon Boy's death and seeked solace from the arms of someone else whilst I was away. I didn't know but then again I wasn't sure if I even wanted to.
''Who will my brother have to face?'', Margaery asked with a quiet voice and took an uncertain look at me. When I heard she'd demanded a trial by combat, I was tempted to make Lord Garlan fight against Ser Loras and by that humiliate the Tyrells even more. One way or another, Margaery would've suffered. Yet once the cough had released it's grip of me, I understood my anger was caused by the frustration of not being able to do anything and forgot the thought. If I I chose Ser Loras, he might refuse and I would lose his trust. And if he had accepted, Ser Loras could lose the fight on purpose and die in his brother's place, allowing her sister to keep her life. To spare Ser Loras of having to make the decision, I had chosen another one to champion me instead. ''Ser Robert'', I replied and saw fear in Margaery's eyes. My silent giant, an embodiment of the Warrior and the Stranger both. I offered to give Anora to her and she took the child in her arms. I let Margaery hold her child silently for a moment, knowing this may be the last time they saw each other. When the door was knocked on, I turned to her. ''It's time.''
The trial was held in the throne room like Grand Maester Medwick's with the exception that I was present. As I walked through the court to my throne, Garlan Tyrell awaited for me at its steps. He bowed his head as I walked past him, climbing up the steps to occupy the crude throne. Once seated, I took a glance down at the crowd. Lord Commander Jaime had made sure everyone was disarmed except for the Kingsguards and Garlan Tyrell. A wise move, though I doubt Lord Mace will try anything. But who knows.. the thought of losing two children at once may be too much for him. I took a deep breath and then began speaking with a loud voice; ''Whilst I was at war, my lady-wife Margaery Tyrell took another man into our bed. As you no doubt know, there's no question whether she's innocent or not; the fruit of debauchery grows inside of her, a child sired by late Grand Maester Medwick. We know this for certain, but Lady Margaery has requested for her innocence to be tested in front of the God's eyes. A trial by combat will decide whether the Seven forgive Lady Margaery for her sins. Ser Robert, Lord Garlan.. you've been chosen as the champions for this trial. May the Seven guide your hands and cast a just judgement on the accused.''
Lord Garlan Tyrell donned his helmet and drew his sword, turning around to face the crowd. His squire handed him a shield which displayed rose of the House Tyrell. The second son of Lord Mace Tyrell was an honorable man with quick temper and deadly skills in fighting. My Kingsguard Ser Robert was two heads taller than him, though, and much stronger. Clad in his white armor, he walked to the center and drew his longsword from its sheath. As the men faced each other, I gave the sign to begin. Ser Robert moved forward immediately, not giving Lord Garlan any time to prepare. The swordsman in me admired the sight of two formidable fighters struggling for their life, yet the king in me was worried. I had expected Lord Garlan to lose, yet he put up a good fight and used his smaller size to his advantage. He moved quickly, dodging Ser Robert's heavy and ferocious strikes instead of blocking them.
Ser Robert didn't seem to get exhausted and kept pushing forward, not giving Lord Garlan a single chance to catch his breath. The Kingsguard had forced the Tyrell to defend himself, and he moved backwards with every step that Ser Robert took forward. Then it happened. Lord Garlan let out a moan as his left leg slipped, and he seemed to lose his balance. The crowd held their breath and some let out terrified cries. Ser Robert got ready to give one last blow which would finish his opponent, but then Lord Garlan jumped forward, having only pretended that he slipped to get the hole he needed in his opponent's defence. His sword sunk in Ser Robert's throat, and the Kingsguard's finishing blow never came.
For the first time I heard Ser Robert let out a sound, a moan of pain, followed by a loud crash when he fell on his back on the floor, Lord Garlan's sword still in his neck. The court cheered for Lord Garlan and I held the handles of the throne harder, still not believing that someone actually had defeated the man I always thought to be invincible. Lord Garlan pulled his sword from Ser Robert's neck and suddenly saw something that left him wordless. The crowd became silent and I tried to see what was going on. Then I saw it too. The blood coming from Ser Robert's wound was not red but black. I could not see Lord Garlan's facial expression as his back was towards me, but I noticed how he took a step forward, crouched and began to remove Ser Robert's helmet. The knight had always hidden his face behind that helm and never spoke a word, so his identity was one of the biggest mysteries in the court.
I got up to my feet and walked down the steps to Lord Garlan's side. He was still crouching beside his fallen opponent, silenced by the sight. I took a look at the man's face. Though Ser Robert had been dead for only a moment, he was pale as milk and all his veins had turned to black. ''What is dead may never die'', Lord Garlan said to me almost as quiet as a whisper. The man behind Ser Robert's helmet had been seen last time almost a decade ago, but the court still remembered him.
The Mountain had cheated death once before, but now he rode no more.
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Ewwww-what was he?
Good update: what is with Margaery and her pathological adultering?
Good update: what is with Margaery and her pathological adultering?
Who knows. I was just trying to imagine what possibly could be inside that armor after Qyburn's experiments and ended up with an undead of sorts. In one of Jaime's chapters it's written that Ser Robert apparently has no physiological necessities. Creepy, huh?
E: Time to look for a new wife. Any suggestions?
E: Time to look for a new wife. Any suggestions?
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Who knows. I was just trying to imagine what possibly could be inside that armor after Qyburn's experiments and ended up with an undead of sorts. In one of Jaime's chapters it's written that Ser Robert apparently has no physiological necessities. Creepy, huh?
E: Time to look for a new wife. Any suggestions?
I like the way that you did that-bravo! As for the new wife-who knows?