A Song of Grace & Fury

I peered off the balcony of my room, studying the sprawling city under me with narrowed eyes.

The moon shone in a cloudless black sky filled with shimmering stars that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

As for the city, well, it looks pretty enough if you don't take a closer look but then again, people mistake shit for chocolate cake so I don't think that really matters all that much.

Anyway, the 'heir' to the throne is a bastard because the current Queen and her brother were a little too curious when they were young and shagged on the regular... I may not have banged somebody for centuries but Marika, even I'm not that desperate.

My own thoughts aside, those red armoured soldiers I saw belong to House Lannister, the house the Queen is from and they're in the castle at all times. It definitely isn't odd that the castle is filled to the brim with the soldiers of a cheating Queen while the King is dying, no it's just a coincidence.

It's also a coincidence that the kid who filled Robert up with wine and alcohol during a hunting trip also just so happens to be from the same house.

Even an idiot can see the pattern here.

The Queen probably thinks she can control her son once he's on the throne or something but I know from firsthand experience that this is going to blow up in a spectacular fashion.

"Well... it'll be fun if nothing else."

I'm on the direct payroll of the dude she has to neutralise to make her dream a reality.

It's about damn time I steamroll over something.

Though, the last time I tried something like this...

Ugh, bad memories.

I attacked a convoy of Leyndell soldiers only for an ancient dragon to divebomb me out of the fucking sky after it heard about the heretical 'Dragon Eater'.

Also, the man I'm 'serving' is the Hand of the King, which, from how I understand it, is something like the Chief Advisor in charge of the logistics and whatever. Basically, the King does whatever he wants and the Hand makes sure he can.

I poured myself some red wine in a metal cup.

Arbor Red, it's called.

It's got a sweet taste to it and is made in a place called the Arbor.

The Arbor is ruled by a house called Redwyne, amazing naming sense, I know.

It's about the funniest thing I've noticed since I came here.

"Hahahaha..." Snickering to myself, I plopped down on the soft bed, taking a sip of my RED wine, from the house RED-WYNE.

Maybe I'm letting myself go too much.

Before I could reorient myself however, a series of subtle knocks on my door drew my attention. I thought about grabbing one of the two swords on the wall but decided against it... I couldn't wander the castle much since Ned ordered me to stay in my room till I was called but I'm sure there isn't much that could harm me here.

Casting one last glance at the balcony, I opened the door.

"Ser Karl, might I have a moment of your time?"

It was Renly.

Why couldn't it be some maid or noble lad-

"Sure." I took a step back, sipping on my wine, "How can I help you?"

"Lord Stark intends to have my older brother inherit the Iron Throne." He explained briefly, walking into the room wearing nothing but a white tunic and leather pants.

Is it odd that I find this weird?

"And your brother is...?"

"Stannis Baratheon. A fine commander but no King, he has no compassion to speak of and thinks only in terms of what is better. A stubborn man."

That doesn't really sound like a bad candidate for a King though... unless, "You want the throne for yourself, don't you?"

He nodded silently, studying my expression with his brown eyes.

"But... isn't the oldest brother the rightful ruler?" I prodded curiously, crossing one leg over the other and taking a sip from my wine.

That's how medieval societies work.

And it's necessary too, it maintains the fragile sense of hierarchy that stops them from descending into chaos.

"Indeed." Renly nodded again, "But Stannis is not right. He would see the Seven Kingdoms become a dull place. I saw him put a man to death for trying to surrender when we were starving under siege for more than a year."

That... doesn't really mean anything?

If anything, it makes the guy sound even cooler for not surrendering despite being forced into starvation.

"I see that you remain unconvinced." He finally admitted, lowering his gaze in disappointment, "I will ride to Storm's End at dawn... I hope to see you there."

I put a hand to my chin, "Why me?"

"You will be rewarded handsomely of course. I might even raise you to nobility when I ascend to the throne that is rightfully mine." He avoided my question with the oldest trick in the book... for dealing with children, "Think over it."

I just nodded.

I currently serve under the prospective Lord Regent, a position that lets me slap nobility under certain conditions. I think I'll pass.

Maybe if he had something concrete as the reason for rebelling, I'd have considered it but this really sounds like a tantrum from someone who doesn't get anything.

The points he presented AGAINST Stannis just elevated the man in my eyes.

I just sat on my bed as he left the room, trying to look serious.

"Guess I'll sleep."

His offer wasn't really one worth considering.

...Maybe if he argued about how Ned's plan had a lot of holes in it, I'd have considered it.

As soon as I started getting ready for sleep, the door was knocked on again.

Do these people have some weird fetish about disturbing others at night?

This time, it was Ned.

"How can I help you?"

Ned pursed his lips, leaning onto his cane for support, "As I understand it, you're a warrior of some calibre."

Where are these people even getting this information?

Who's spreading rumours about me?

"Sure." I nodded.

"I have a task for you then." He got straight to the point, his expression barely shifting, "My daughters are in this Keep. You are to escort them back to Winterfell, where they will join their brothers."

I tilted my head slightly, "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I fear for their safety in the event that something goes wrong."

Well, I guess I can't blame him for being realistic.

The possibility that I can destroy this whole city isn't one somebody sane would even consider.

Hell, the one suggesting it would sound like he was off his rocker.

"So... you'd trust a complete stranger with your daughters?"

He clenched his fists at my words, but showed no other expression, "I don't have a choice. I can only hope Robert spoke truth about you."

That takes guts, respect.

"Fine." I sat up, "How am I gonna find them?"

"Both are in the Red Keep. A servant will take you to them."

I like how straightforward this guy is.

Pausing for a few moments, Ned heaved over to me and looked me dead in the eyes, "If anyone is to get in your way, do not hesitate."

Oh... well, this is about to be a lot of fun.

Grabbing a sheathed sword from above the fireplace, I rested it on my shoulder and walked out of the room to find a short man waiting there for me, "Syrio Florel, I teach the little wolf. I will help where I can."

"Sure little man, lead the way." I flashed him a smile.

I didn't mean it as an insult, the Vulgar Militia were shorter than kids and Marika knows I got killed by them enough times as it was.

He gave me a nod before turning and bowing to Ned, "Very well, Lord Stark."

We made our way past the long and mostly deserted corridors of the Red Keep in the dead of the night, happening on the occasional patrols that didn't really ask all that many questions when they noticed who I was... or rather, how large I was compared to them.

I found that Syrio wasn't really one for talk, maybe he didn't like me calling him small?

Eventually, we came to a room guarded by a man wearing the same armour as Sir Barristan Selmy.

"Halt! State your business."

"I'm here for the Stark kids." I spoke bluntly, "Lord Stark is asking for them."

I hope this is enough to dissuade him.

Millennia spent struggling on the edge of life and death made me very... numb to killing.

"I serve only the King."

A small grin crept onto my face.

"Well, fuck it then. Nothing personal."

He can take his loyalty to his grave.

For what it's worth, his hand moved towards his sword as soon as he noted something was off. Unfortunately, I was much faster than he was.

I put my hand to his mouth before slamming his face into the wall, making it explode into a gory mess under his now bent golden helmet, before I tossed him aside like a sack of potatoes.

"Gods be good. I thought you were... of his ilk." Syrio commented, slightly shook but gathered himself quickly, "On guard, more approach... Talking will not work on these barbaric fools."

It was a night patrol, consisting of four soldiers in reddish armour... the Queen's men.

Looks like it's my lucky day.

Kicking up his sword with the tip of my shoe, I drew it from it's scabbard and slung it at the nearest guard... His fellows could only watch their comrade get thrust into the wall, guttural noises escaping his pierced throat as the light slowly left his eyes.

Before they could gather themselves, I took a deep breath and lunged at them, grabbing two by the head and smashing them together into a red, gory pulp. One hastily went to draw his sword but I drew his before him and split from gut to shoulder, bringing it down on his fellow behind me in the same motion and slicing him from shoulder to gut.

Satisfied with my work, I walked back to Syrio and tapped his shoulder, "Let's grab the princesses."

He was... very good at masking his emotions.

"Uh-... very well, ser."

Hmm... should I have told Ned that I'm liable to wander off to the first thing that catches my eye mid-job?

-

Hope you enjoyed.

Leave a comment.

Hand over them powerstones if you want an extra chap.

Since you guys demolished the last one.

Let's say 400, that should take a while.

-

CHECK OUT 'A Tumultous Second Chance'.

I'll update this book a lot more if it gets the intended reaction.