Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV: Brightroar Seeker's Captain;

Casterly Rock.

Year 289 A.C., the 19th day of the ninth moon.

Nine days after considerable sums of money were pronounced in Braavos by members of a council...

The Smiling Lion walked down the castle corridor alongside the young guest of Casterly Rock.

His brother had made sure that every inch of the fortress was appropriately polished and that every attendant or guard stood rigidly at attention with no blemish on uniform or armour.

Gerion himself wore his golden ceremonial armour with the best crimson silk cape in his repertoire.

Bloody Snow maintained a textbook poise, dressed in a white buckskin doublet, crimson red silk shirt, black leather breeches, and dark brown leather boots. There was no weapon or item holder in the strap, but Gerion knew that boy's most dangerous weapons were his sharp green eyes, thirty-two-tooth smile, and tongue.

"I know my Uncle responded to you and Tyrion's hit on his name day." Said the boy holding back a laugh under his moustache.

"Haha... I found his 'gifts' distasteful. My nephew imprisoned in Lys' pleasure houses for more than a week might have seemed funny, but the 365 books of famous stories and tales of pirates and sailors was a really low blow on her part. You don't mess with a poor man of the sea's captivity." Gerion replied, continuing to keep his gaze forward while keeping pace.

It was his job to accompany the represented guest to the room of the Lord Protector of the West.

"First, 'Tales and Adventures of the Sea Serpent by Maester Boubler' is a very rare text. Second: My Uncle just wanted to help a good friend spend his time more pleasantly and wants to provide you with all the useful texts for the future expedition to Valyria." The demon maintained a harsh tone while throwing visible teasing grins at him.

"Useful texts... really? Half of those books are romance novels about pirates who kidnap and seduce promiscuous noble maidens!" Gerion replied, losing his temper for a moment.

"So you're reading them! Pff... Ahah... cough, coff. I beg your pardon, my lord Gerion." It was only then that the Smiling Lion realized that he had made a misstep by falling into the storyteller's trick.

"You! You little... You know what, Lord Duncan? My and Tyrion's concern will be to make sure we find you a 'creative' gift for your twelfth name day. If I'm not mistaken, it will be in a few months! I can't wait for that, my lord. Phuhahah!" The boy seemed to have been taken aback by expressing a [But what about me?] expression.

"I was sorry I missed the chance to meet Tyrion." Said the boy trying to deflect the conversation.

"Unfortunately, I don't think he'll be able to get back with the fleet before the start of the next moon... The 'setback' in Lys certainly didn't help. Tell your Uncle that he owes me a favour for explaining 'the misunderstanding' to the Lord Protector of the West. Lord Tywin Lannister could have started a war for less." Gerion.

"I find it an exaggeration to consider a pleasant little 'Forced Vacation' as kidnapping... I mean, Lord Tyrion received service worthy of Princes and Kings... But perhaps you're right... I think a little lecture wouldn't hurt Uncle Leobald." Duncan.

Gerion glanced over his shoulder at the castle porters carrying a long case and crate.

"The case wouldn't have 'Brightroar' in it? Please don't tell me you've already broken my adventurer's dreams." Smiling Lion asked.

"Ahaha, not really. Fear not, my lord. It's only a few infamous gifts and half-pressures to help me in the fight to the death that awaits me soon." Bloody Snow.

"Glad to see you're at least aware of what lies ahead..." Gerion.

"You know... Grand Maester Pycelle is quite confident that the Queen's next child may be a girl." Communicated Gerion things that were Nothing, but in a lower tone and at a point where eyes and ears would have difficulty taking in.

The information just passed was of great importance to the not-yet-promised Hero of the North, especially in view of the meeting.

Inside, the Smiling Lion hoped that all would go well. He wished that his brother Tywin would abandon the idea of thwarting the development of House Tallhart and his Northern allies.

"... Thank you, Lord Gerion." The boy replied in a gentler tone.

"Huh? I beg your pardon, my lord. What are you thanking me for?" Gerion asked with a confused expression.

"... Nothing. My mistake."

Two minutes of walking later...

"Here we part our ways, Lord Duncan. I wish both our Houses a lasting and friendly partnership." Gerion paused before the last set of stairs. Tywin wished the boy would face the last aisle to the Lord's study.

"I wish the same, Lord Gerion. I promise to do my utmost to ensure that the Smiling Lion will indeed give a spontaneous display of the playful roar at tonight's banquet.

Ah! I almost forgot..." The boy went to the trunk and opened it with a key. He returned a few seconds later with a small ash-white box in his hand.

"Made my old engagement proposal at the Mormont banquet finally reach your heartstrings, Bloody Snow?" Smiling Lion asked, opening the box in the dam tree.

Out came a small emerald green pendant in the shape of a sun with a bit of yellow topaz heart. The outlines looked like green leaves, but they were buds. The topaz in the centre seemed to give off a peculiar glow like faint rays of sunlight.

"No... I'm still considering all my options, My Beloved Lord, Ahaha.

It's a good luck amulet. Or so I was told by the priest of the Old Gods who live on the Island of Faces.

It is ancient, and the priest in question assured me that it belonged to one of the first daughters of Lann 'the Clever'. But, of course, I do not guarantee anything...

But it is said that the wearer should never lose joy in the world's beauty.

But anyway, I thought it was a fitting little thought from my Uncle and me to offer our congratulations to you and your partner on the legitimation of your daughter.

A gift for the little Joy Lannister."

End POV.

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POV: Duncan;

Casterly Rock.

About three minutes later...

I was back to full strength. Fortunately for me, the trip from Pyke to Lannisport was uneventful. Calm seas and clear skies the whole way.

The welcome at the port of the golden city was warm and festive. A sumptuous feast, which was still going on, was being celebrated in all the streets and alleys of Lannisport.

In a short time, Lord Tywin, or rather, Lord Gerion, the castellan and acting Protector until the return of the Old Lion, had ensured that the port and fleet were adequately restored.

In less than two months, the city had returned to its full glory.

The returned soldiers were hailed as Victorious Heroes. Wine flowed like a river, brothels and taverns were full, and currency started to turn again.

After the 200th step, I began to feel slight shortness of breath. But I was certainly not as bad off as those poor four porters in my wake.

Especially those two poor sweat-soaked guys carrying the trunk. They kept gritting their teeth and trying not to show any signs of giving in with all their efforts.

'Later, I'll have to remember to leave a hefty tip for these four poor devils.' So I thought before reaching the penthouse hallway.

At that moment, I realized what game Old Lion was playing...

All along the corridor of over two hundred feet, up to the doors of the Lord'sLord's attic, forty golden-red guards lined the walls, armed with pikes and shields perfectly symmetrical, facing each other at exactly ten feet apart. And at the bottom of them, a black and yellow iron mountain almost eight feet high and nearly five feet wide.

Ser Gregor Clegane was the guardian of the gate. The Personal Dog guarding the master's entrance.

It wasn't a matter of personal safety-no. Tywin and I were both aware that neither of us would ever break the laws of hospitality...

It was a show of force. A small attempt to soften me up before the negotiations.

'All that would be missing would be a bard singing "The Rains of Castamere" during the crossing...Well, if Old Lion wants to dance, let him dance!' So I took the first step toward the scaffold. At that instant, the forty guards raised their shields in unison and tilted their flagpoles to form an arch for the crossing.

'I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed at all...' So I thought as I reasoned at the moment about the best play to offer in response.

I found it...

I increasingly began to look around me, showing invisible nods of awe. I walked insecurely and calmly until I found myself in front of that mass of black steel and cruelty.

The Mountain clutched a giant two-handed broadsword, the tip resting on the floor, almost as wide as the ceremonial weapon of the House Stark, "Ice."

At least four hundred pounds of muscle and two hundred pounds of hardware. At that moment, I realized that it was actually possible for a man to wield a six-foot long iron rod as if he were grasping a one-handed long sword.

A [Level 8 Class: Lord], but what it lacked in skill, it entirely made up for in strength, constitution, and defence...

The level did not decide the fate of a battle. The Riding Mountain was a prime example of this.

The Red Viper was still no match for this opponent. Oberyn probably must have been preparing for years for that clash. Unfortunately, his current [Level 9 Class: Knight] and dexterity still couldn't compensate for that gap...

One glance was enough for me to realize that this being could rival Victarion-Paladin. His armour was heavier and thicker than usual, and he didn't mind.

No ordinary armour in the world could have avoided being sliced like paper by Gregor's full-strength slash had he wielded good Valyrian or Damascus steel.

The bucket-shaped helmet held the visor open. Eyes blazing with murderous intent and contemptuous of life continued to square me from the top. I broke eye contact by lowering my gaze to the ground.

I began to visually tremble...

Two guards a few feet away sneered weakly.

Then...

"Emm m- excuse me, S-Ser... Emm... Ser?" A servant porter behind me dropped one side of the trunk to come to my rescue.

"Milord, this is Ser Gregor, lord of House Clegane!" Whispered the sweaty boy urgently in concern.

"Ah, yes! Thank you," The porter bowed and instantly darted back a safe distance.

Then he whispers three me, "What an idiot I am! House Clegane...Three black dogs on a yellow background...how could I forget?!..." the tone of voice was enough to be heard by the giant and his pack.

The iron gloves tightened their grip on the handle with more vigour. Sounds of teeth grinding in anger could be heard. The men I assumed might be Polliver, Raff the Sweetling, or Chiswick fell silent.

"I beg your pardon, Ser Gregor." The look seemed to increase the already skyrocketing levels of murderous fury.

The guards visibly began to worry.

Without a direct order from the Warden of the West, none of them could lift a finger on me. If Gregor had made that misstep, Tywin would have had him put down on the spot without hesitation.

The stain on the Lannister name would have been indelible. No cheap tale could have justified such an event...

A rare trait among the few about Lord Tywin Lannister that I encountered in both the series and the books was that the man did not lie...

Omitting when necessary, juggling words in ways that concealed and expressed double meanings...sure. Of course, Tywin might have stooped to such dishonour in front of that exalted Aerys II...but a strong man didn't need to lie.

And Tywin Lannister was and still is that kind of man.

Forcing the Old Lion into a situation where even he would have to lie through his teeth to try and redeem his family's good name would have brought his wrath down on all responsible. But unfortunately, no one in this hallway would make it out alive.

"Ser Gregor, I could count on your help in safeguarding... By the way..." I brazenly turned my back on the Mountain as I approached the trunk. I took a key and turned the lock twice, closing the box carefully.

The servants couldn't take their eyes off the monster behind me, who continued to grind his teeth more ferocity.

"... There, yes, I was saying... Ser Gregor, could I count on your help in safeguarding the gifts bestowed upon Lord Tywin Lannister in due time?" Total silence...the calm before the storm.

One guard couldn't hold it together. The lion's shoulders symbolized a high rank of command.

"Please, milord. Lord Tywin awaits your presence. We will make sure no one approaches the trunk or the case." Said the captain with celerity, trying as hard as he could to defuse the device.

"Ah, thank you!...emm...Captain?"

"Captain, Webel Brax, my lord. This way, please." He bowed and took the honour of opening the doors.

"Thank you, Captain Webel. Ser Gregor, with your permission then..." I entered, causing, the Gods only knew, what atrocities to the poor or ill-fated scapegoats who would take it upon themselves to feed Ser Gregor Clegane that night.

I vowed to myself to win a strong point on the agenda of that meeting.

I had, yes, spared Elia and her children from the hands of that monster, but how many innocents had I let die over those years? I had the power to silently get rid of that unnatural being long ago...

I clenched my fists and entered the lion's den.

Before crossing the aisle, a few minutes before, I had activated a first level spell [Detect Magic].

As soon as I entered the Solarium, I was dazzled by signs of wealth everywhere. Gold and ivory figures adorned every flat surface.

Fine red furniture was heavily engraved, beautiful silk tapestries hung on the walls, and a marble floor was covered with an expensive wool rug. The overall look of the room was prestigious and undoubtedly "expensive."

But the most prestigious thing in the room was not the decorations. Instead, the man behind the desk was sitting on the gold-covered throne.

A man in his mid-forties, dressed in a red leather doubled with gold embroidery, half a purple cape, with a darker shade of red, rested on one shoulder, lacing the end on a solid gold clip in the shape of a lion's head.

Every inch of the decorations and robes roared the word "Lannister!!!" with three exclamation points...

'[Level 6 Class: King]... Not bad at all for a man who has abandoned the way of the sword for years.' I praised Tywin inwardly.

I stopped my pace at a considerate distance between the two of us. A good-looking, young, well-dressed servant girl waited for instructions at the corner of the room.

Etiquette dictated that the host should deliver the first word, which still did not come after several seconds.

A contention of careful, calculating glances was all that followed for the first twenty seconds of absolute silence. After that, only the sound of the doors closing intruded in the middle.

Then the silence broke...

"Welcome, Duncan of House Tallhart. Please... come closer." Tywin said in a deep tone.

"Thank you for your hospitality and welcome. It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Lord Tywin of House Lannister." I replied, bowing properly without any tone of threat or challenge in my voice.

The key was to remain open but defensive, neither intimidated nor overly friendly.

"A beautiful hall, my Lord. May I?" I pointed to the open balcony from which a beautiful horizon could be seen. It was still barely noon.

Tywin nodded, granting permission.

I politely approached the window. The landscape was breathtaking. An expanse of bright blue water as far as the eye could see, the harbour and the town of Lannisport were clearly visible from that height.

"Stunning... The best landscape I have ever laid eyes on is, I would venture to say. Truly a remarkable treasure." I walked back to the desk, not wanting to show any cockiness or rudeness in having my back to the Lord of the Rock too much.

"Be my guest." Tywin lightly hinted with his hand at the seat a few paces in front of him. Then he raised a hand, moving only two fingers once.

The servant girl behind him snapped, approaching me.

"Would you like something to drink, milord?" the young woman asked politely with a warm bow.

"Water with lemon, if possible. Or any other cool non-alcoholic beverage, thank you." In less than a matter of seconds, my first request was granted.

Tywin seemed to enjoy the same beverage by casting a simple nod.

"You may go." The Lord ordered, and the girl disappeared with a bow on her way out the door.

I always took a good and necessary sip of water gallantly. I would have challenged anyone to climb an entire mountain from the ground up without needing to guzzle a gallon of water after reaching the top. As a courtesy, the half-full jug was left within arm's reach.

After a few more seconds of silence, Tywin resumed the word.

"We finally have a chance to get to know each other, Hero of the North. How do you feel about the reception shown so far by Casterly Rock?" Tywin was not giving undeserved titles to anyone.

"Regal and lavish. Praise your family and ancestors for erecting such an architectural masterpiece, my Lord. I have long hoped to admire your manor in person. Lannisport also deserves to be celebrated as one of the most remarkable and most impressive cities in Westeros. Without question.

I thank you on behalf of myself and my father for the warm welcome you have shown us, Lord Tywin." The first tussle went smoothly with no direct hits for either of us.

My attention was directed to a tapestry different from ordinary silk. The colours and shape of the designs of the symbol of the House of Lions seemed older and less defined among those seen so far. But more importantly... the Detect Magic signals were screaming [Artifact! Artefact Alert!].

I had already tried that spell on enchanted objects, such as Red Rain.

The aura emanating from that apparent piece of cloth was on a whole other scale.

Tywin sensed my interest in the old banner.

"One of the oldest relics of my House. Placed on the same spot on the wall since long before your ancestors founded the House of Tallhart. My Grandfather Gerold and my Grandfather's Grandfather, claimed that as long as that banner stood guard over Casterly Rock, the House name would endure until the end of time..." Tywin explained with a hint of pride in his tone.

'So it exists...' I marveled. I had in front of me one of the magical treasures from the Age of Heroes.

Part of an enchanted robe belonging to the First and current Guardian of Magic. Imbued with the blood of the House of Casterly, blessed by the lifeblood of the great Tree-Heart of the Isle of Faces, and consecrated by a word of power from the lineage of Kings.

The object born of the union of the Three First Guardians....

'As long as Carcosa, the Temple of the Sons of the Forest, and the Targaryen Dynasty exist, that treasure will always stand guard over the Descendants of Lann.' I thought back to Zick's words on the day he named me his Heir.

I instantly shuddered as soon as I sensed an aggressive aura from the banner. It seemed to dislike being watched.

I broke my concentration on the spell.

"One can grasp its antiquity and authenticity at a glance. Beautiful...

I didn't want to spoil my 'gifts and surprises' card, but... I think I brought you something that might catch your interest, my lord." I said, smiling sincerely.

"And that would be?" Tywin.

"Part of a text that tells the biography of the last King of The Rock Loren I." The Protector's attention was caught. Very little information remained in House Lannister's library about Loren I. So many texts were neglected and left to rot in damp corners of the castle....

"Pieces of parchment and missing pages reworked and rewritten by hand by our best scribes. I personally read the draft, and, if I remember correctly, one small section dealt specifically with an ancient enchanted banner that protected Loren from the breath of Meraxes during the Battle of Field of Fire, saving him from certain death." An imperceptible but valid hit pricked the thick skin of the Golden Lion.

"A welcome gift." Tywin extended his arm to offer to serve another cup of water. I gladly accepted showing a sign of appreciation with my head.

"So, Heir of Torrhen's Square... You claim to appreciate my House and my city, am I correct?" The end of the pleasantries had come....

"I validate my statements, Lord Tywin." I replied, preparing myself for the first assault.

"However, I also know that you have greatly appreciated Sunspear and the hospitality offered by House Martell... The Enemies of the Crown."

*****

End Chapter.

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