Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV: Ser Meryn 'The Brave Andal'

Barrow Hall.

A few minutes after a Lioness exulted within herself...

Meryn had to be careful and take his to leave his rooms at the first opportunity. He had to change his pants and breeches before he was laughed at by all the nobility of Westeros.

But to do so, he had first to receive the hospitality of those Northern Barbarians, eating bread and salt and drinking their damned mead. The danger was not yet wholly averted...

How he wished he could vent his fury and frustration in a brothel.

Barrowton and Waterdeep were said to have the best brothels in the North. But he could not have demanded his 'explicit needs' in the town of that Mad Hag. Not after recent events, at least...

'I must join the joust and the fray! I must!' He could redeem his name by showing a modicum of lustre before the nobility.

And when he would finally return to King's Landing, to his domain, Meryn would head at the first opportunity to his favourite brothel and squander all his gold reserves to demand a Nordic girl of more similar features and age to that whore called Barbrey!

He would strike and strike her hard with strokes of his rod until every flap of skin was dripping blood, and after his prey had roared its last gasp of despair and mercy, he would **** her until the last gleam of life in the eyes was disappear...

'Oh, yes... I certainly will.' Meryn could already feel his member stiffening at the very thought.

One way or another, he would get his revenge with a Northern Whore.

They were in the Main Hall with dozens of noble ladies, lords and knights intent on talking and exchanging banter among themselves. Three servants of House Dustin at the entrance were holding jugs, cups and baskets of slices of white spiced bread. Just what Ser Meryn needed.

The Knight removed his helmet so that he could drink freely from the cup.

The Queen served herself first, then it was Ser Boros's turn, but when it was his turn... the servants turned away, denying him what was rightfully his!

Before he could breathe, a thundering, furious voice broke the laughter and general quiet of the Hall.

"Remove the women and children! Take them away!!! IS AN ORDER!!!"

Swarms of obliging rats promptly sprang forth, bestowing apologies and forcing dozens of figures to head for exits throughout the hall.

'By the Seven Hells! What the hell is going on now? Damned Barbarians!' Meryn thought instinctively as he put his hand on... his sword! The Harlot Bitches had not returned his sword and dagger!

A servant of Barrow Hall ventured to grasp the Queen's hand. "This way, Your Grace, please-orders from your father and the King himself. It will not be a sight worthy of your royal sight." The Queen abandoned him, and Ser Boros remorselessly followed in the wake without even glancing at his confrere held by four hands that had pinned him down and stripped him even of his helmet.

'Damned Coward! Hypocritically thought the Knight still stained with his own urine.

Nobles from the North, the West, Dorne, the Vale, the Stormlands, the Reach, Knights, and even a couple of the Night's Watch stood by, all pointing their gaze at Ser Meryn. Some looks seemed confused; others were well aware of what was about to happen...

The crowd opened up to let the screaming, furious man pass... It was the witch's betrothed! That Mormont!

What was he clutching in his hand? A rusty chain mail? No, it wasn't rust-it was bronze chainmail!

'Bronze, Fire and Ice had quoted the old woman!'

Blood & Iron! The witch had tricked him! The Bitch had only sworn not to claim the Blood Price!!!

"Release him!" Roared the Hellbear, only a few inches taller than Ser Meryn but much more muscular than him. But though more athletic, the man had no blades or clubs of any kind; he wore only dark green and black leather farsetto. If it was a bare-knuckle fight he wanted, the witch's groom would have to weep bitter tears against the breastplate, leggings, forearm covers, and especially Meryn's fine steel laminated gloves!

The hands that held him down loosened their grip.

The figure came closer and closer...

Now what? What to do? Was he to struggle with his bare hands? Would he be able to strike back or not? Can...

The last doubt in his mind had no time to be formulated. Meryn's fighting instinct spurred him into action. After all, [whoever struck first struck twice!]

"Arrgh!" Roared Meryn as he unleashed a right-gloved hook toward Jorah's chin.

The blow was not as accurate as Meryn had hoped. The Knight was trained to fight in armour with sword, mace, spear, and dagger, but the last real fight Ser Meryn had faced was long before the beginning of the Rebellion, and certainly, that previous tavern fight had not been fought in forbidding steel plates...

The Bear did not dodge but only seemed to soften the impact by ducking to the side...

"Good..." Heard Meryn utter before his arm was grabbed and an overwhelming headbutt shattered his nasal septum. The impact was so fierce that the bobbing head could not even signal pulses of pain. Instead, Meryn perceived only some fractured bone and cartilage and a flood of oozing body fluid all over his chin.

His vision was still blurred, but the Royal Guard could still see what was going on-he had been lifted into the air! More than two hundred pounds were raised by two logs of wood and a furious steel grip!

"ARRGHH!!!" the 'Bear's War Roar' sounded like a rumble of thunder compared to the fart spat by Meryn in his first assault. The Knight in armour was slammed like a wet cloth onto a long marble table, shattering and knocking over glass, porcelain, drinks and various delicacies arranged on silver trays.

The collision was devastating; without his armour, the Knight would have suffered multiple fractures from the neck.

Meryn was face down immersed in tangles of blood, mashed something and pulpy fruit. Then he felt the iron grip on his no-longer-shiny red hair pulling hard, tearing locks and triggering an involuntary cry of pain from the victim.

To Meryn's misfortune, the curved plate of golden enamelled steel slid perfectly over the smooth marble.

Sharp glass, boiling cold foodstuffs, cutlery, trays, ceramic pitchers, everything on the table, more than thirty feet long, struck the Knight's already battered face, already unable to react...

In confusion, Meryn managed to catch some part of the Bear's furious cry, "You!!!" *Crash!!* "Andal!!!..." *&#%#§!!*"You Dared!!!" *Patacrash!!#&!*"Draw" *§#ò%&* "Iron!!!" finally, the sound became clearer.

The thirty feet of labouring and humiliating ride ended with a thud to the ground. But the knight's pains had just begun...

The man felt the weight of the Bear's mighty body crushing his chest, torso and arms, immobilizing him so that his opponent could make havoc on his already maimed face uncovered.

"In front of my Bride?!" A devastating fist coated in hard, scratchy bronze crush shattered the man's left cheekbone.

Jorah Mormont lifted Meryn's torso from the filthy silk collar with his left hand and struck the defenceless knight repeatedly with his right bronze fist.

"Threatening her in my absence!!!" The second deadly blow broke at least one tooth, filling his mouth with warm blood. The only part of his face is still intact...

"Under her roof!!!" Another couple of teeth less...

"In the dwelling of my Lady!!!" What was left of the nose turned to mush...

"Of my Queen!!!" The last remaining cheekbone met the same end...

"Of my Godness!!!" Fractured jaw...

"OF MY MAIDENNN!!!"

Meryn's still-functioning right eardrum nearly exploded from the din of the last roar shrieked near his ear. Then the pain of flesh and torn cartilaginous ligaments came...

"Uuuaaarghh!!! IiiaaAARRHHGH!" The Fearless Knight's cries of pain touched feminine tones as the climax of the fierce bite tore the last shred, depriving him of an ear...

Finally, 'by the grace of his mother's mercy,' the Inferocite Beast stood up ... spitting the missing limb to the ground with a mixture of blood and saliva.

"Lift him up and hold him down..." Said the same voice in a calmer but still hate-filled manner...

'What did he mean?" thought the miraculously still-conscious Meryn Trant... Only the stabbing pain allowed the knight not to faint like a helpless maiden.

Was it not over yet?

Was this not the Price of Iron?

'Or... No!' The mind in Ultra-Survival mode, pumping adrenaline into every neuron of the victim, alerted him to the possibility that, perhaps, the punishment had not even begun...

Perhaps all the punishment and humiliation endured was just a legitimate response to the blow delivered first by Ser Meryn!!! Why else would that monster have sneered at uttering the word 'Good'!?!!

'Father, protect me. Mother, have mercy...' Meryn began to pray as two guards lifted him by the arms, forcing him up on his knees.

Meryn's one good eye managed to catch a glimpse of the figure of the King!!! Robert Baratheon was right in the front row next to Lord Tywin and a few other minor nobles!!!

"Y-Your Majjeestyii!!! P-Plefeee!!! Cough! Coff!!!" Meryn spat out phlegmy lumps of blood and broken teeth as he cycled those words, but he did not give up and tried his best to articulate the wheeze for help with all the breath he could muster in his lungs:

"Merffyyy!!! Merfyy!!! Yoor GREASSSS!!! PLEEFFEEE!!! MERFFYYYY!!!"

At that point, Lord Commander Barristan flanked the King and cast a disgusted and scornful look of shame at him. But Meryn could only give a damn about his disapproval at that tragic moment!

The King had the power of the Word of Grace! Absolute forgiveness that overrode any edict even attempted Regicide!

The possibility of salvation existed!

Four servants dragged to the spot a sizeable burning brazier, another an open casket with what looked like snow inside... The last exhibited a white wooden box containing an array of torture instruments.

The Bear chose a dagger with a bronze hooked blade!

"YOUR GREAASSS!!!" It was the best-uttered plea so far...

Robert was still holding a cup showing himself more like a spectator than a High Judge... Few nobles and a 'knight' waited for the King's response.

"I'm sorry, Ser Meryn... Threatening a poor Lady Helpless with a blade and intent on offering hospitality under her roof to boot is a crime that must be punished according to all the laws of Gods and Men." Proclaimed the King, earning nods of respect and several murmurs of "Aye!" from the witnesses present.

Even Lord Tywin seemed pleased with his son-in-law's choice! And only the Gods knew how little respect the Queen's Father had for the King!!!

The Bear Beast seemed to disregard the pleas or opinion of the King of the Seven Kingdoms and continued to prepare by plunging the bronze blade into the fire! Meryn's impellence peaked.

"T-THFE FALLL!!! THFE FALL!!! Ghuf! Ghung! Sigh...Thfe Fall...sigh!" The sobs of despair and tears were not helping.

Ser Meryn's battered mouth tried to sound out a pleading 'The Wall'. The man would never be able to utter such complex phrases as 'I will take the Black! I will join the Night's Watch!'

At least that chance had to be given to him! Black or White belittled in comparison to that flame-red fate!

Robert's gaze was merciful for a moment... And for just one more moment, he even seemed undecided whether to offer him that chance.

"Your Majesty... if I may." So said an old man in black, looking strangely like the Bear Beast.

"Speak freely, Lord Commander Mormont," replied the King.

'L-Lord...Lord Commander MORMONT?!' The Knight shrieked a cry of injustice within himself.

"The sacred and honourable order of the Night's Watch would be tainted by such scum...

We gladly accept poor villagers without a home or a place to serve the Kingdom, criminal orphans born without a parent who could teach them the laws of the Gods and Men, men poisoned and corrupted by vengeance-seeking redemption for forgiveness, and even traitors fighting for a wrong cause but one they believed in their hearts to be right...

This being without rules or religion is no ordinary poacher who poached game so as not to let his family starve!"

"Aye!" Several nobles agreed.

"But a Knight of noble birth, educated, and well aware of the horrendous crime he was perpetrating… such scum would not survive long on The Wall. If his noble Mother House could not teach Ser Meryn the honour and duty of every man, I doubt the Night's Watch would do any better. There is only one exemplary punishment to impress upon them the proper path that every man of honour should walk..."

"Aye!!!" Replied the witnessing crowd with more ardour.

"And here in the North, in the land of the First Men, the Andal, the Rhoynar, or foreigner who violates the 'Sacred and Ancient Law of Iron' is punished with Bronze, Fire and Ice!" So sang with more fervour the second Bear Beast.

"Ayee!!!" Roared dozens of Northern barbarians.

It was the end...

The two Bears even exchanged shameless assents of complicity in public.

"Wise words, Lord Commander...Lord Jorah, go ahead." So promulgated The King of the Andals, Rhoynars, and 'First Men'.

The Bear brandished the handle of the searing knife as he approached...

"Hold your head still." Ordered the man, and in an instant, another hand yanked back Meryn's scalp while holding his aching chin with the other.

"The Offense for House Ryswell..." The dagger barely grazed the icy snow in the chest generating the faintest sizzle. "With Bronze, Fire and Ice!" Roared Jorah Mormont, raising the blade aloft as a gesture of demonstration.

"Bronze, Fire and Ice." An echo of voices answered.

Meryn could feel the heat already a palm away from his face. The blade dug without hesitation into the eye, already swollen and unable to open, generating a foul, disgusting noise.

"IIIIAAAAAARRGGG!!!" The pain was excruciating and unbearable. Meryn's vocal cords gave vent to the least manly but liberating squeal they had ever generated.

The stench would have been indescribably obscene if his mush-called nose had been working again. Meryn's orifices littered the floor, generating a mixture of blood, urine, and shit... Fame and respect were lost forever, but what was worse... The eye!

He would forever be blind in one eye!

The hatred felt by Meryn managed to win out against the pain. Nevertheless, he vowed that if ever a single glimmer of the opportunity presented itself to redeem vengeance, the Knight would welcome his with open arms, even riding to certain death if necessary.

'Fuck the King, the Queen or any other rule or law is written in this fucking world! I will have my revenge!" roared a voice in Meryn's head.

At least that charade would finally come to an end...

"The eye that dared to peer hatefully at the Lady of Barrowton has been cleansed, and the Price of Iron repaid!" Roared the barbarian.

"Ayee!"

It was over-it was all over. Meryn had to go to a maester and swallow as much poppy milk as possible-they were going to take him to a maester, right?

But then why had the Northern bastard thrown more tools into the brazier!!!

"Now... The Price of Iron for 'House Dustin'. The tongs!

... Open your mouth, 'Ser'."

'House Dustin?! B-but you had said Ryswell! You had told Ryswell!!! Knight tried to say, but the slimy lickers of Barrow Hall forced him to open his fractured mouth!

"You seem confused, Ser... Let me clarify your doubts and questions." Said the angry voice calmly as he prepared for the second act.

"You have not offended a single Household of the North, but rather 'Three': House Ryswell... House Dustin... and House Mormont. And Three Iron Prices will be justly claimed." The fool turned to the guards and enacted:

"Bronze..."

A servant with bronze tongs dug into the mouth, pulling Meryn's tongue almost to the tearing point.

"Ghhhgnnn!!! Ghhuu!!!" tried to confabulate the shocked and indignant knight.

The furious groom pulled out another torture instrument with one hand and picked up a fistful of snow.

Large red-hot shears came up over the stretched soft muscle.

"Fire..." The blades closed in, slicing cleanly through all the flesh in their path.

"And Ice!" The Bear's left hand forcefully pushed the snow inside the bloody mouth to the point of choking him.

Meryn could not tell which pain was worse, the severed sensitive limb or the hundreds of icy bites that trilled over every tooth, cut or cauterized wound in his mouth.

The need for air was pressing. The servants released him for a moment to give him a chance to spit out and cough out whatever obstructed the passage of air -- another pitiful and disgusting scene.

'Enough... Enough... Seven save me!' thought a pleading worm.

"The tongue that dared to voice threats toward the Lady of Barrowton!"

"Aye..." At least, this time, the consensus was more faint and hesitant. Even the Northern Barbarians began to take pity on poor Meryn.

"The jug of Vodka..." Ordered the merciless voice.

The only functioning limb on Meryn's face instinctively peered at the following preparation for the latest atrocity.

Abundant handfuls of snow were stirred into the pitcher filled with pure alcohol. The victim had tasted Vodka before. That disgusting, filthy drink from the North that almost burned his insides.

Was that the punishment of 'Fire and Ice' then?

No... The Bear threw the bronze crush into the glowing brazier... Whatever that madman had in mind did not bode well.

Two pairs of thick gloves were brought to the monster, who promptly put them on.

"We'll have to make your face unrecognizable in the eyes of Barrow Hall and the Old Gods who witnessed your crime, Ser. Prepare him." The demon's hands lifted him for the third time.

The burning crush was gathered in flames with blacksmith's pincers. The boiled leather gloved hands of the monster fearlessly welcomed the offered red-hot bronze.

"A new face purified by Bronze and Fire." Each individual's Beauty's instrument of ruin rested on Meryn's head and face causing the pains of the seven hells...

"GHIUUUUGGGHUU!!! UMMMGGGH!!!!!" Shrieked the steaming knight without a tongue.

"And blessed with Ice!!!" The icy alcoholic contents of the pitcher dropped onto the flames and the toasted but not yet melting skin.

*Sffrzzzz!* was the last audible sound before the man lost consciousness. Then, finally, the bleak and unspeakable combination of relief and burning was too much to bear.

Everything went black...

End POV.

-------------------------------------

POV: The Maiden Fair

Reception Hall, Barrow Hall.

Less than a minute after a Valiant Knight fainted amidst his sewage...

She was sorry that her nephew Domeric had chosen to witness the dreary spectacle...but Winter is coming. In the coming years, the Lord of Dreadfort would soon have to command more respect and reverence than ever before. Jackals would not hesitate for a moment to try to bite the juicy hand of the most coveted future merchant in the Known World...

The Maiden Fair had watched the whole scene in the shadows. Not that corridors and walls could conceal Meryn's cries of pain and her Bear's furious roars.

The time had come for her to make her entrance.

The procession of valiant Lords and Knights instantly parted, opening a gap for the passage of the Icy Spice Queen and future Lady Mormont...

Her groom noticed her presence and elegantly offered a hand to his bride as a gesture of protection and companionship.

By now, the sun had set, and the last guests who would require her personal attention would show up the following morning.

Unfortunately, the Braavosians and Magicians had not had a chance to witness the first little show, but after all, not everything could be predicted... Imagining that Cersei Lannister surrounded herself with such idiots was beyond any vivid imagination Barbrey could anticipate.

Bloody Snow was proper; the haughty, incestuous Lioness of King's Landing was a barrel of wildfire ready to explode at the slightest spark--a hardened pyromaniac who had to be drained one drop at a time.

"My Lady," "Lady Barbrey," "Lady Dustin..."

Dornians, men of the Valley, the North, the West, the Riverlands, the Reach, and men of the Storm bowed politely as she passed by, paying respectful greetings.

Arriving at the feet of the victim, still helpless on the ground, Barbrey gently placed her hand on the steel grip of her Bear and said:

"My King, my respected Lords and Knights, once again, my groom and I renew our warm welcome here at Barrow Hall, wishing that this unfortunate mishap has not dulled your veins of celebration..." The Maiden bowed to King Robert, who jerked at her gentle but penetrating gaze for a moment.

'The Drunken Stag is less naïve than he would have you believe...' The Great Player jotted down that little note from her newly perfected mnemonic archive.

The Maiden also bestowed a slight smile on The Great Wizard, Guardian and Protector of the Andalus High Council, Lord Leyton Hightower, who responded to the concealed message with a slight nod of respect.

"Escort what remains of Ser Meryn Trant to Maester Ellyn. As soon as our future guest is able ... or rather ... 'if' he is still able to feed himself ..." many lesser lords and knights swallowed and paled conspicuously, "let him be bestowed with bread, salt and mead. I would not like to see rumours spread in the future that, here in Barrow Hall, we do not offer hospitality to penitent knights. Mh! Mh! Mh!..." No one shared the macabre humour as a pitiful knight was dragged badly toward the tower stairs.

"Welcome to Barrowton, my Lords. May you, my most welcome guests, benefit from the hospitality and enjoy the traditions of the North.

May the music resume, and drinks and delicacies flow again like rivers." An inspiration further brightened her splendid evening.

"Enjoy the evening and have fun." The musicians resumed playing, the servants serving and cleaning… a semblance of tranquillity and lightheartedness refreshed the room.

"My beloved, shall we take our leave? I'm feeling a little ... 'tired'." So proposed the Maiden Fair, casting her Bear a look full of lust and desire.

"Of course, my beloved." Still overflowing with adrenaline and naughtiness, the Bear promptly responded to the invitation.

Three beautiful gifts of Bronze, Fire and Ice had been bestowed upon her by the Bear. And the Famelic Maiden was eager to repay such treasures with equally valuable gifts...

The Bride would bestow passionate and sinful acts of Love, Beauty and Magic on her future husband that night.

'A beautiful ballad... Yes, the protagonist would definitely be 'Ser Meryn The Brave Andal' ahah... I shall have to commission Domeric's master at once.' Thought the Lady of Barrowton lightheartedly as she exchanged glances with Tywin Lannister.

'But how to title it, I wonder? Simplicity is the harmony of the World...

Yes, all the Known World shall hear it... {A Song of Bronze, Fire and Ice?}...mmm...No.

Perhaps...{A Song of Ice & Fire?}...mmm lacks a personal touch...

{The Icy Bronze Bear on Fire.}

'Yes! Perfect!'

*****

End Chapter.