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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 14: Interlude: Arianne Martell
...
Unsurprisingly, her father hadn't believed the claims both, his own brother, and herself had brought up regarding... Karma.
A fascinating name in truth, exotic in its origins if the... Thing was to be believed and she certainly saw no reason not to and even more so in its meaning.
Divine Justice.
Rather fitting, if she were honest.
There were few things that could rattle her father, two she knew off for sure. Anyone that stood in the way of their vengeance, and anyone that unraveled whatever plots he'd kept secret within his mind. Karma had stolen the first and beat the second with a stick so badly, even her uncle wouldn't have been able to salvage it.
It wasn't at all surprising that he'd elected to disbelieve the claims that Karma had managed to survive one of Dorne's most toxic poisons, and not at all because it painted the man in an otherwordly visage. Not at all because it only helped further push the man's claims of knowing far too much for his own good.
But simply because it gave her father the means to test such a claim with his own eyes, firmly in the belief that the only reason it hadn't worked the first time was due to her own incompetence. And so in essence, gave him a surefire way to kill the man without ruffling her uncle's feathers, without ruffling the vengeance their home had cried for.
After all, attempting to kill him directly, after he'd brought them Gregor Clegane's head, and Armory Lorch's living body... After hitting the Usurper where it hurt most, killing his queen and child within his own god's damned castle- The same queen, the daughter of the man that was responsible for executing her aunt and royal cousins...
Yet, the proof that it hadn't been her incompetence... The proof that Karma was in fact somehow immune to poison... That Karma, The Warrior made flesh was rather impossible to assassinate... The proof that he was as otherwordly as he claimed resulted in a sight she'd never thought to see.
For her father, and his sycophant Maester hadn't simply tested one poison- No, they'd tested everything they'd had on hand, their disbelief and horror growing with every failed attempt... Until the mad man in question had, in a fit of boredom, simply elected to go through half of the varieties available in one go, and walked them off without a sign of distress.
In the span of an hour, Karma had taken in enough poisons to put down a dragon, if the Maester was to be believed, and lived, nay, walked it off like it was a badly made casket of Arbor Gold.
Her father had retreated into his solar after that, though not before showing off for the first time since the Rebellion abject fear at what he'd witnessed. Her uncle, in tow, the man's expression ranging between fascination and worry for what it all meant. Though not before instructing the two cousins who'd traveled with her to gain his favor, personally.
Not that she would've let them.
She'd seen him fight, following her father's attempts at getting rid of a loose end, both her uncle, her father's captain of the guard, and Daemon Sand. Out of interest to gauging his rumored skills from her uncle's side, and boredom once again from the being in question.
Oh, it certainly hadn't started that way- At first, it had just been Daemon Sand's interest in seeing if the man could duel following so much poison in his body, to see if his senses at the very least had dulled. Only for Oberyn to join him the moment Daemon's backside had met the ground for the third time in minutes, Dornish pride circulating through him.
Areo Hotah, following her uncles failed attempt at evening the odds in their favor, had elected to join himself, no doubt on her father's orders- The prince witnessing the bouts from the window to his solar, his dread piling on itself with every moment that passed.
For what could he do in truth? The man couldn't be poisoned, even if he welcomed it, and he clearly couldn't be fought- For even with a dull blade, he'd not only bested three of the best fighters Dorne had to offer but had managed to go through the bouts without a scratch to show for it.
The only thing truly left was a dagger in the night, and there were plenty of rumors of the fruitlessness of that and the consequences for it.
The last person to order him dead in the middle of the night had had her throat slit in front of her Kingsguard of a brother.
Karma... She felt giddiness run through her skin with every step she took towards his room. The man possessed knowledge hidden away in the deepest part of her uncle's mind... Knowledge of things even their now terrified Maester, the only man closest to knowing so much as a quarter of the things Karma had proclaimed out loud trivially, didn't have access to. An immunity to poisons, to alcohol, to everything that danced in the impossible... A proclamation that he was kin of the gods themselves walking among them... And the martial prowess that put the Demon of The Trident, The former Sword of The Morning according to her uncle, and even Barristan the Bold himself according to rumors, to shame...
Kings had been made with half of those things, and before them, in their very rooms, stood a man that could and if pushed, would rip apart a dynasty out of boredom if he felt inclined.
Stood a man that could've fought for Robert Baratheon's crown in his own hall and won it.
Oh, the nobles of the court, of every kingdom, would've disagreed, would've waged war, would've done a great many things to contest it- But how do you kill a man so intent on dying he was a spectacular failure at it?
She'd certainly heard of those that found success even in failure, but she'd never met one whose failures could've given him a crown on a whim.
She couldn't imagine what he could do with a kingdom behind him.
And yet, despite the fruitful... The utter blessing Dorne had been handed on a silver platter... Her father refused, nay was terrified of having anything to do with him.
The thought of it made her tremble.
She had no qualms of believing his claims following the impossible things she'd seen. The impossible secrets she'd heard.
Karma claims of being able to create weapons that would've put the dragons to shame... Claims of magical knowledge that could rip a kingdom in half.
She stood before his door, her excitement pouring through her.
She had no interest in conquering the Seven Kingdoms. No interest in her father's schemes of marrying her to the mad beggar prince.
All she wanted was Dorne, a fact that her own father had never bothered asking of her instead intent on granting her what he thought right, and before her stood the key to attaining her birthright.
The key to a lineage that claimed its descent from the gods themselves... Children with divine blood running through their veins... A warrior that couldn't be beaten as her shield, that couldn't be put down by enemies from those in Dorne and far. A weapon that could end even a King's own bloodline in a single night if he so wished, no matter the kingsguard that guarded him, no matter the army between them.
A divine storm that could put an end to the entire continent itself if he so wished.
None would ever threaten her again.
She opened the door and promptly hitched her breath.
All around the room, she found corpses thrown about. All wearing mismatched garbs, all likely from different kingdoms. The only thing of matter was that she didn't recognize any, and it was certainly too soon for her father to have hired them for he'd only just met Karma.
Some we're stuck to the walls, pinned by their own crossbow bolts, their weapons still in hand. Others had blades dangling out of their bodies, while a few simply had their necks slit.
Right before her, stood, or rather was seated, Karma, one hand holding up his own head, his eyes closed to the world as he quietly snored, while the other was grasped around the neck of a deadly and rather dead looking assassin. The sign of the Faceless Men of Braavos, stiched onto his robe. A sign any noble worth a damn would know, yet... One generally never seen, unless requested.
She heard the footsteps to her side, her peripheral taking in The Hound who had taken his place in the room adjacent- The man not even gazing at her, simply walked towards the room, looked inside for a brief moment, and let out a course laugh before he walked back to his own room, the leather skin of wine in his hands.
The laughter caused Karma to waken, a bored look on his face.
It took a moment for him to notice the assassin he'd grabbed by the throat, before he unceremoniously dropped him to the floor, a disgruntled curse coming out, took another moment to note the dead corpses around the room as he rolled his eyes before his gaze finally settled on her, dressed as... scantily even by Dornish standards as she was.
Without so much as paying her any attention, the man walked over towards the nearby window a handful of the would-be assassin had likely used and idly let out a yawn.
"What do you want little princess?" He questioned following his yawn.
Arianne blinked once, before twitching her nose at the smell as she took a single step in.
"I was curious if you would prefer a cleaner... room to spend your night in?" She questioned- Only for her breath to hitch as she watched the man turn towards her, his piercing gaze cutting through her- Though what caught her attention was that, despite his gaze on her, he'd still managed to catch an arrow that had been shot towards him from the outside, and without a missed beat nor a look, promptly threw it back, the sound of a scream coming from the courtyard
"That all?" He questioned raising an eyebrow as he turned his back towards the window- Only for another arrow to shoot past his head, the man dodging it with ease.
She could practically feel her hand shake as she locked eyes with him, as her ears picked up the waking tower.
"I want... Dorne..." She remarked taking another step forward. "And you can give it to me..."
He tilted his head at her.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you?" He started, ignoring the steps she took further into the room, ignoring her as she got closer. "Dancing with monsters is terribly bad for your health."
"Is that what you are?" She questioned, breathless. "A monster?"
He snorted at her.
"No..." His mouth tugged upwards into a smirk that felt so out of place, yet fit so well into his face as his gaze roamed around the room once again. "You can kill a monster."
Yet, before she could get any closer, her father's guards promptly entered the room.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 15: -Consequence-
...
He does not weep, for he is a part of something greater, grander, and ultimately lower than anything else, and weeping is for the lost, for the damned, for the existing.
He does not sing, for silence is his domain, his eternity, his end, and his beginning. And to forget such a thing, would be to betray himself.
He does not anger, for his duty is sacred, untouched, and pure. Necessity and liberty to those that fall beneath his banner. The darkness at the end, tempered by the light of beginning, just as the darkness of beginning is followed by the light at the end.
He does not order, for his reign is to no one, yet his gifts belong to all.
He does not battle, does not challenge, for it is futile, pointless to those before him. For Death is the end, and prolonging it, delaying it has no purpose.
He does not take that which can be replaced, that which is worth less or more than what is asked, for balance is all there is to uphold. Balance is all that matters in the end, for without it, it lingers, unwatched, uncared for, and all that comes from it is destruction.
Destruction is not death. Power is not death. Greed is not death. Spectrum is not death. Time is not death.
For death is existence, it is all, and yet, nothing.
Tywin of Lannister is one of many who sought it, one of many who balanced it, one of many who understood it.
Tywin of Lannister is one who was failed, whose balance lingered, whose wish came untethered.
Tywin of Lannister asked the Many Faced God, The God of Death, The Stranger of many names, to take the life of a man, and paid for the life of a man.
Tywin of Lannister paid the price required for the life of man.
The Many-faced God accepted the life of the man.
The Many-faced God failed.
For Tywin of Lannister had been mistaken for what he had asked. The Many-faced God had been mistaken for what it had accepted.
Tywin of Lannister had asked for the life of a man. The Many-faced God had sought the life of a man.
It was not the life of a man.
Tywin of Lannister's payment was returned.
For the Many-faced God does not punish for ignorance, does not punish for lies, does not punish for failure. The Many-faced God does not need to, for it is one that knows the price of all.
The true payment does not exist, for the life sought.
The Many-faced God cannot take that which does not belong to its domain.
Tywin of Lannister's payment was returned, his failure made evident, for pride was all he held to himself.
The Many-faced God does not punish, for balance must be held.
And balance held it was, for the Many-faced God had lost that which it holds to itself.
Tywin of Lannister lost his pride, the truth open to his eyes forevermore.
For it was not the life of a man.
It was the life of a god it had sought, a god that knew it, that breathed what it was. That lived it, and that had punished it for stepping into its domain.
It had taken a face from the Many-faced God, forever to never return.
The balance was broken.
For the Many-faced God had lost a face to the life it had sought.
The balance was fixed.
For the face it lost, had gone to one who held Many Faces once before.
The worlds differ, but the God of Death is constant.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 11
...
I had to admit, despite literally missing the spectacle, killing a faceless man in my sleep was an accomplishment I didn't know I wanted.
Like, on the one hand, it sucks that the premier club of people that killed for a living and religion literally failed to fill the escape clause I was unwittingly forced into, but on the other, I probably scared the shit out of an emotionless two-faced ninja. Take the good with the bad and all that.
I idly stared at the coin in my hand taking in the insignia, of Essos's premier no-return expedition into the afterlife stamped into a coin.
I'd found said coin in my pocket following my tangle with the dead corpse that had evidently disappeared moments after Doran's guards had swept into my room and cordoned the area off- While Oberyn, according to what I heard going around, was currently torturing information out of whatever poor sods that had survived their assassin attempts on me.
Evidently, there'd been a total of fifteen attempts on my life last night, and only three were alive to tell the tale of who sent them.
I am pretty sure they were still finding more corpses.
A gruff escaped Sandor Clegane as he settled into the seat beside me, the empty pool before us.
"A faceless man tried to kill you last night." The man pointed out, a gruff tone to his voice.
"Mhm."
"You killed him in your sleep."
"It would seem so."
Sandor Clegane stared at me for a moment further before he shook his head as he took a swig, from a cup this time. "You scare the shit out of me sometimes, you know that?" The man remarked as he slapped the mug onto the table, half-lidded eyes staring at me.
"Duly noted," I idly remarked, leaning my head on my free hand. "I found this in my pocket after the little debacle."
Sandor peered his eyes at the coin for a moment, before his eyes widened a tad bit, only for the man to settle for a coarse laugh, one that caught my attention as I turned to stare at him.
"Only you could kill an assassin and earn their favor in the process!" The man barked out with another laugh.
"Favor?"
Sandor's head tipped into a nod as he took another mouthful of the... Wine? Or maybe water.
"According to what I've heard... Faceless men operate on two forms of currency- Whatever they ask of you, and a certain kind of coin issued by them." He remarked pointedly. "You could get them to kill anyone with it- If you can find one of them to accept the payment," The man finished with a shrug.
"Hmmm." I pondered the words before letting out a sigh. "Sucks I ain't got anyone I need help killing,"
The words seemed to pause the man for a moment before he settled for another shrug.
"Don't suppose you'd need much help..."
"...I mean I guess I can use it to kill Lysa Arryn, I hear her mountain's a bitch to climb. Might save me a trip."
The man blinked at that one for a moment before his eyes narrowed slightly. "Huh, figured you'd use it to kill the Old Lion- 'Twas probably his gold that paid for the assassin."
"And destabilize the West? Nah, don't need that on my conscience, I'll just let his stupidity do him in,"
"Ha! You're the only one I know crazy enough to say that with a straight face,"
"...Thanks?"
The man promptly dropped the cup back onto the table, before leaning in towards me, conspiracy dancing in his half-burned face. "Speaking of stupid decisions, did you bed the princess last night?"
I let out a snort at that one.
"Do-"
"And, what if he did?" The aforementioned princess promptly remarked behind the two of us, causing Sandor's face to rapidly twitch for a moment before the man promptly downed the rest of his drink, got up from the seat, and moved elsewhere. One of Arianne's cousins? Following him without a remote hint of subtlety.
I let out a sigh as I watched said princess, this time at the very least dressed in somewhat more formal clothing, take his previous seat, a single finger ordering her entourage to disappear- Even a few of them, warriors judging by the weapons clasped around their waists, stayed close enough in case another dumb assassin threw his life away.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't start any rumors, little princess," I remarked gruffly. "I do have a reputation to uphold-" She raised an amused eyebrow at me. "-And fraternizing with whores is only going to hurt it."
Needless to say, she let out a long sigh after that before glaring at me.
"Hm. I see you're as charming as ever!"
"The Faceless men certainly think so," I remarked without a missed beat. "They've evidently given me a free pass to kill anyone I want- All I gotta do is give 'em a name." Her eyes widened briefly before they settled onto the coin in my hand. Surprise filling them. "And they say name-calling doesn't hurt anyone," I scoffed, shaking my head before my gaze settled on a once again amused princess. The woman elected to ignore my earlier remark as she leaned in, her gaze settled on the coin briefly before settling back onto me.
"...Well, my father will certainly want to hear about that- Perhaps it might even get you into his good graces..." She chuckled, pushing a loose hair strand behind her head. "Speaking of which, he's waiting for you in his solar, him and my uncle at that." She remarked, a glint in her eyes.
I let out a scoff.
"I ain't moving, you can tell 'em to come here," I deadpanned.
She blinked a few times at that one before letting out another chuckle and shaking her head.
"No manners at all."
"Yeah well, between the two of us, I am the one with an assassin in my services." I deadpanned before amusement filled my face at the thought. "Which is oddly nostalgic, actually."
I watched as the woman indicated towards one of her entourage with a finger, a silent message shared between them before she focused her gaze back on me. Curiosity brimming in her eyes. "Nostalgia? How so? We're you one of their members?" She questioned easily. "I wasn't aware one could just leave the order."
"I wouldn't know, wasn't a member." I shrugged. "And I was referring to my... Well, one of my former homes. A village, well, city really, filled with assassins."
She blinked a few times at that, tilting her head in the process.
"We're you a lord?"
"Nah, was technically a king. You know, before I abdicated the... Well, what qualified as crown." I shrugged, earning a very wide-eyed expression from the woman. "More of a hat really-"
"You were a king!? And you gave it up!?" She questioned, a tad too loud in the process, and for some reason completely believing me. "Were you betrayed?"
I scoffed at the thought.
"Nah, I just got bored of ruling."
"...What?"
"I got bored of ruling."
"...How?" She questioned, disbelief filling her voice as she stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "How does one get bored of power?"
I tilted my head at her, an eyebrow raised at the bewildered expression in front of me.
"Crowns don't give you power, little princess. Power is what gives you a crown." I shrugged. "I didn't lose anything when I left- Hell, I just got a boatload of freedom out of it,"
She appraised me for a few very uncomfortable moments after that before the woman let out a sigh.
"I take it marriage to a princess won't convince you to join my side?" She questioned, a rather hopeful expression on her face as she locked gazes with me, her hand sneakily going to the arm I had on the table.
"...You understand I am trying to die right?"
"You're not doing a very good job of it- So yes, as long as you keep failing at it, I don't see that as a dealbreaker." She deadpanned towards me.
"...I am sure your father would disagree."
"I am not entirely sure he has the means to stop it if the two of us joined at the hip." A sultry, or rather an attempt at it, flashed through the crazy woman's eyes. "And I mean that literally."
"No shit, you freakin' weirdo." I deadpanned towards her. "Either-"
A cough promptly broke whatever I'd been about to say as I turned around towards a very intrigued Oberyn Martell, the man staring at the two of us with a disturbing glint in his eyes.
Great.
Oberyn Martell's going to ship me with his fucking niece.
What the fuck did I do to deserve any of this?
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 17: Interlude: Fool's Court
...
The members of the House of Black and White had always had what would be described as an unnatural connection with the deity they served and all of its many iterations. Akin to a sixth sense, a feeling in the back of their heads, a veritable sense of something greater linking them together.
For Death had always had a far more grounded foundation compared to the rest, one grown and inexplicably made manifest since the days of the Doom.
It was this very connection that made the Faceless Men as... Dangerous and successful as they were, for it was a feeling that was shared by all their members, and more importantly all the faces at the Many-faced God's behest. A connection that, for lack of a better word, connected them all and allowed them to feel their fellows wherever they may be, a subtle tint of a window between each other as it where.
Distance was a matter of direction between them, not a matter of space.
Yet, such a connection had always been fickle at best, only there if one searched for it.
Something that had changed following their folly.
Something that had steadily become clearer than ever with every step another of their code had taken towards it. Towards the being that Tywin of Lannister had requested they give their gift to.
It was akin to feeling as if a shadow had risen, its pressure and weight dropping down on the one sent to complete the assignment greater with every step, their connection towards their unfortunate kin growing stronger as, for the first time in their history, complete sensory overlap had overtaken them all.
Before they'd all been cut off at any rate. Though not before showering them all with the truth.
For a brief moment, just before the fallen faceless assassin had reached out towards their target, a poison-tipped dart in his hands, they had all seen the sleeping target in all of its glory. Their faith was tested and proven to be the one true faith once again.
And yet, it didn't compare to when a connection with the target had been made.
The Faceless man ignored the court's sycophant promises as he took a step forward, awaiting his turn before the King of Westeros, the many nobles around him having promised said man their strongholds and armies for the war on the madwoman living in the mountain cage she called an impenetrable castle.
Even now he, as well as his fellows, all of their locations, their feelings, their practical minds flowing through their shared connection, now stronger than ever. The second one, currently paying their respects and thanks to the one that had fallen in the Garden of Dorne, the strongest of their connections.
For the moment the fallen assassin had made to assassinate their former target, the moment their target's hand had lashed out and grasped hold of his neck-
They had all felt it. They had all seen it. They had all witnessed the truth that would've broken any lesser being.
For a brief moment, they had all stood before the face of a God of Death who, in a realm filled with many, many gods of death, had made a living legend out of himself. A being idolized and feared by his allies and enemies alike. A being that had ascended to an unfathomable state of divinity.
For a brief moment, they had all stood before a human who had claimed the power of death through a book, who had granted the gift of death to more humans than the entirety of the Faceless Men's history put together. Before he had used that very same book to strike at the core of its own power, to strike at the fallen gods of death who had settled for toying with lesser beings out of amusement than any purpose.
For a brief moment, they had all stood before a sorcerous assassin who had granted the gift of death on a cosmic scale, putting the end to the very stars themselves, and all of the warriors they harbored with impunity. And in essence, had etched himself into the very annals of that world's history and time.
For a brief moment, they had all stood before a mad sorcerer whose prowess with sorcery had elevated him to an almost god-like entity towards his fellows. Whose prowess with sorcery had allowed him to take that which even Death itself had failed to. Whose madness and sorcery had allowed him to destroy the shattered souls of denizens who had long claimed the mantle of immortality for themselves.
For a brief moment, they had all stood before a Black Sorcerer who had quite literally wrapped the physical embodiment of death around his finger, before taking it upon his own soul, becoming another instrument of death- Yet not only had he not lost himself, but had actually gone on to influence the Goddess of Death herself. And that was nothing to say of the self-proclaimed gods of that realm, who had thought themselves invincible, only receive the crushing might of a hammer that had laid waste to them all. Firmly putting the Black Sorcerer atop an impossible hierarchy.
And there were oh so many more. Yet, despite the differences each showed, they all shared one common aspect between them.
For a brief moment, they had all stood before a man whose many faces always coiled around, influenced and above all, controlled death.
For a brief moment, they had all stood before a physical embodiment of a Many-Faced God, who specialized in death.
He idly took the last steps forward, the last noble nodding his head as he swept to the side with the rest, his kneeling and simpering finished.
He locked gazes with the King, the man's gaze turning bemused as he waited for him to kneel, before his gaze for whatever reason turned hopeful as he lowered his hood, only to turn indifferent a moment later.
"Heh, another bastard that won't kneel aye?" The man remarked, shaking his head, even as the nobles of the court whispered and stared behind him.
He paid them all no mind as he turned his gaze towards the Hand of the King, stood beside the king himself. The man's gaze narrowed as he recognized his face.
"Faceless man..." Tywin of Lannister remarked warily. "This is hardly the time or place."
At the words, the king's face turned intrigued as he gazed at his Hand.
"Ohh? You hired 'em after all did ya?" The man snorted, before turning his gaze towards him. "So, Karma's dead then?" There was almost a satisfying note to the man's voice, yet it wasn't one who'd found out a threat had been taken care of, rather someone who'd watched someone open a gift they had wanted.
He shook his head and watched as the king let out an amused snort, while the Hand's gaze narrowed.
"Man is not here regarding Karma..." He tilted his head. "Your grace." He added on with a shrug before turning towards Tywin Lannister. "Man is here regarding the folly of House Lannister."
Needless to say, he doubted this particular body would last much longer if he took his time in explaining the intricacies of what they had all witnessed. If he bothered to inform the foolish masses before them that if they continued their course, they would only find destruction at the end.
"Tywin of Lannister," He continued, not letting anyone interrupt him. "You have asked one to kill Karma The Undying." The nickname took the king and his court by surprise, though barring the narrowed look, the lion hadn't changed his expression. "Your payment of gold-" He added a disgusted tone to the word "-for such a folly has been found wanting, and has been returned to your tower." He clasped both hands behind his back. "For no payment shall ever be enough, in truth."
"However, such a request cannot go unpunished." He locked eyes with the man, his tongue turning smoother as the need to hide vanished. He needed to make sure the fool understood him perfectly. "For your folly, House Lannister has been placed into a debt to the House of Black and White."
The murmurings grew in leaps and bounds, and from the king's side, genuine amusement filled the man's face.
"A debt that can only be paid in what was asked." A small smile grew on his face. "A debt that will not disappear, so long as Tywin of Lannister remains alive, so long as those that follow in his foolish footsteps remain alive- So long as House Lannister continous this foolish quest, the House of Black and White will hold them to this debt."
Snickering, whispering tongues and humorous expressions and words filled him at that, and all from everyone but the lion himself.
Tywin of Lannister's furious expression was the only one that kept his own men quiet, that kept the rest to a whisper.
The king's gaze turned from amused to serious as he raised a hand to quiet everyone else. Yet before the man could say anything, the Lion of Lannister took his chance to have his voice heard as he tried to burn a hole into his head with his gaze alone.
"You fail your task, and hold my family in debt? In this court?" The man's furious expression turned passive. "I was led to believe your-"
"I am not here for a discussion Tywin Lannister." He interrupted the man, watching as he twitched, as the snickering's returned. "I am simply here to tell you that you and those that will follow you without question are in our debt." A single beat passed as a disappointed expression graced his face. One that was usually reserved for foolish children. "In truth, it is rather unfortunate for you." He shook his head. "You've chosen a war with a being that has never lost so much as a gamble, let alone a battle." Another beat passed. "A being that has vanquished forces greater than you could ever imagine."
Pure, utter, interest filled the king's face.
He crossed his arms, a smile growing on his face.
"At any rate, so long as this debt stands, the House of Black and White shall serve Karma Of The Gods with impunity."
And just like that, the reality of what it all meant quickly filled the court as shock, horror, and fear replaced all that he'd felt.
From all but the king himself.
Robert Baratheon blinked once before letting out a guffaw despite the situation.
"You hired a Faceless Man to kill him and instead gave him a bloody faceless army!"
He nodded his head to the words of the king.
"Just so." Before he promptly gave the barest hint of a bow- For Karma clearly respected the man, and left the courtroom altogether. The nobles struck speechless, the guards not moving a muscle without an order from their amused king.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 12
...
It's moments like these that convince me the 'gods' of this world really have no fucking idea what they're doing.
Then again, Bran Stark's supposed to become an all-seeing cripple, Bloodraven was a sorcerer who was exiled for doing sorcery things at the behest of a sorcery-approving king and Euron Greyjoy's a thing.
Maybe common sense just didn't exist, to begin with.
I idly stared at the Faceless Man crouching down on one knee, his head bowed down towards me. While Oberyn Martell, from his brother's side, looked like he'd found Brightroar and was contemplating the best way to stick it up Tywin's ass. While Doran himself looked extremely resigned, yet somehow determined from his seat on the other side of his desk as he stared at me, and his daughter, the girl currently latched around my arm with a tight grip, without consent I might add.
Something that had almost caused her to lose her life judging by the venomous look she'd gotten from the Faceless Man in front of me the moment the three of us entered the solar.
Right now? I wouldn't even be surprised if Euron fucking Greyjoy turned out to be the Azor Ahai. Because everything else so far has frankly been ridiculous.
Letting out a long sigh, I got out of the princess's grip on my arm, her uncle thankfully helping her out of the solar, ignoring her complaints all the while. The moment the door was clamped shut, I gave the sitting prince a deadpan expression.
"The fuck is going on right now?"
To his credit, the man didn't bat an eyebrow as he calmly responded.
"He was found with his... Fellow's corpse, praying." A single beat passed. "When my guard found him, he asked to be taken here, to wait for you."
I blinked in response to the words.
"And you let him?" I questioned, flabbergasted. "Like, I am pretty fine with dying, considering it's my goal, but I didn't think you were."
"He left his... tools in our hands," Doran remarked casually.
"I see." With that, I let out another sigh and briefly turned back towards the Faceless man. "Explain the kneeling."
"I... Am not entirely sure." Doran remarked, a very tired tone to his voice as he sagged into his seat.
"I do believe he is pledging his service," Oberyn remarked off-handily as he retook his place amongst his brother's side, amusement dancing through his eyes. "First the Hound, now a Faceless assassin," The man snorted. "My, my Karma, aren't you moving up in the world?"
I frowned at that briefly before I let out a shrug and promptly took the offered seat before me, the Faceless man taking it as his cue to stand up. The action immediately caused the Red Viper to tense, his humor vanishing instantly as he set himself on guard.
"So," I started again, this time staring at the assassin in the face. "Care to explain this?" I took out the coin in my persons, and raised it to my eye level.
The assassin simply tilted his head, before indicating the two princes with a side look.
I shrugged in response.
The man tipped his head into a nod and started speaking.
"The Prince is incorrect," The man remarked, causing Doran to briefly narrow his eyes, though relief for a moment filled them for whatever reason. "I am not here to offer my services, I am here to offer the services of the House of Black and White."
Doran Martell promptly sucked in a breath, while Oberyn settled for a chuckle, his disbelieving head shaking in the process.
"I see, in that case, how's about a second attempt on my life then? Feel-"
"No." The assassin immediately cut me off, before his eyes widened as he dropped into a bow. "Apologies for the interruption, but my order cannot, nor will we ever make such a mistake again."
"Bah, what good are you then?" I scoffed, shaking my head as I turned back towards the two princes- The assassin's continued bowing not so much as budging as he... presumably waited for permission.
Needless to say, both of the two princes, for the first time since I'd gotten here, had the same look on their faces at my words.
Complete utter bafflement.
I promptly leaned forward, my head resting on top of my hands. "So, what'd you want anyway, Oberyn and the little princess seemed insistent on this little meeting." I paused, a frown filling my face. "Unless I am here for you tell me my week-long stay's been revoked?"
Doran Martell opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think it over, and promptly clasped it shut.
"...Why..." Oberyn started and promptly shook his head. "Do you have any idea of... The position you've come upon?" The man's expression turned disbelieving once again as he faced the Faceless Man in the room. "A faceless man's gift, while costly, is a powerful political block to have within the Game of Thrones... You've gained their allegiance, temporary or no-
I turned towards the deluded assassin, cutting off whatever Oberyn had been about to finish with.
"What are the terms of your service exactly?"
The man raised his head from his bow, a pleased smile to his face that he directed towards me.
Honestly, what was it with cults, weirdos, and crazys that seemed to run towards me?
"The crown of this continent know that the service of my order, to you, shall last as long Tywin of Lannister and those that mirror his ideals live."
The two princes shared another knowing look before Oberyn started laughing out loud while Doran's gaze seemed to turn calculating- His earlier resignation dying down as he stared at me in a new light.
"However, as far as the truth is concerned," The man continued, even as Oberyn's laughter slowly subsided, "The House of Black and White shall serve Karma of The Gods and his successors indefinitely."
And just like that, the laughter subsided completely, Oberyn Martell's manic expression dying down in favor of adopting the same calculating look as his brother, something they shared between them for a brief moment- A war of words through their eyes alone somehow going through before they finally turned back towards me.
"Huh." I deadpanned. "That's nice, I guess."
Annnnd the two princes we're back to their gobsmacked expressions.
Only this time, the ninja in the room seemed to take offense given the sudden glare he sent the two of them, one Oberyn Martell grinned at, while Doran Martell subtly raised a single open palm towards him.
The Faceless man sniffed in response.
"It is a good thing, you seem to have his favor." The ninja remarked. "Perhaps a show of gratitude is in order-"
Before the two princes could rile up at that- Though judging by the look on Oberyn's face, he didn't seem inclined- I idly indicated the ninja to move closer towards me, not so much as earning a twitch as the man obliged.
When he was close enough, I promptly flicked him on the forehead.
"None of that now, I've had enough idiots presuming what I want for me, thank you very much." A single beat passed. "Your... Actions against Lannister not included." Admittedly, I'd found that rather hilarious. "Though I could really do without the bowing."
I've certainly never hired someone to kill a danger to a crown only to somehow become the danger to said crown.
Oberyn's jaw dropped, while Doran looked like he really wanted to facepalm.
The ninja didn't even bat an eyelash at me as he nodded, before raising himself back up to his full height. "Such humility..."
"Anywho, seriously, what'd you want?"
When neither of the two princes felt like answering my question- Judging by the continued silent staring they settled for, I let out a sigh and turned back towards the ninja in question, giving them the time to either process or think of something to say.
"Say, does your order ever deal in kidnapping?"
The ninja hummed at my words, a hand raised to his chin. "We've certainly never been asked for such a thing, all come to us for our gifts."
"...Is that a no or?" I deadpanned in response.
"Not at all." The ninja quickly answered. "We are certainly capable of adhering to such a need, should you require it."
I nodded.
"Good, I kinda want this one alive, and healthy," I remarked easily.
Turning back towards the two princes, I found wary, though very intrigued expressions on both of their faces.
"What are you planning?" Oberyn questioned, his curiosity not allowing him to wait.
"Oh nothing," I shrugged, leaning back into my seat. "A few murders for a few Freys," I waved a hand. "A healthy dose of poisoning for a real bastard in the north and his deformed pet..." I grinned, watching as a very uncomfortable expression-filled Doran's face.
I turned back towards the ninja. "I don't have to pay for that right?"
"Of course not."
"Cool." I clicked my fingers, "Oh right, and the kidnapping of course! Can't forget that!" I locked gazes with Doran Martell. "You don't mind if I have him brought here, do you? Wouldn't want my future guest to be uncomfortable."
When Doran made to answer, clear disapproval on his face, Oberyn beat him to the punch, his curiosity overcoming his cautiousness- Provided the man ever had any.
"That depends on who?" The prince leaned in, a glint in his eyes. "A lion? A stag perhaps?" There was a manic expression growing on the man's face once again.
"Do not presume-" I raised a hand to cut off the ninja's pointless defence- The action very much noticed by the wary older prince, even as the younger completely ignored it.
"Oh not at all..." I lowered my hand, taking a deep breath as I turned my gaze the slightest upwards to the ceiling. "I was thinking... A lost Martell..."
Bemusement filled the younger prince's face, while dread and a hint of warning filled the older.
"Well, on account of blood anyway," The dread and warning disappeared from the older prince, bemusement taking over-
"Oh for the love of- Who!?" Oberyn questioned, frustrated as he slammed both hands on the table.
Thankfully, the ninja in the room didn't try to attack the prince, though judging by the glare in his eyes he certainly looked like he'd wanted to. At least, until he took in the amusement in my face and relaxed a great deal, his own faint amusement growing on his face.
"Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name."
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 13
...
Surprise surprise, the Faceless Man left the room without applause or fanfare. Neither of the princes before me so much as moving a muscle barring calling for one of their guards to escort my fanatic to his own chambers- Evidently he had his own form of communicationto his fellow fanatics for my 'quest' as it were. Oh and of course return all of his belongings, while setting a few guards to watch him.
Which effectively meant to them just not wanting him around anymore, though not willing to risk having more of them show up for any reason whatsoever.
"...You..." Doran Martell started, an even tone to his voice, one not matched by the growing anger in his eyes. An expression even his more amiable, towards me, brother shared.
Oberyn simply stood behind him, staring at me as if I'd grown another head. Which considering nearly everything else hadn't caused such a reaction said quite a bit. Hell, the man had basically taken my poison immunity in stride, and barring a little shock to having a faceless man swear his cult to me after I'd killed one of their members in my sleep, he hadn't quite reached the expression he currently had. "You've done nothing but disrespect me... My house..." Doran remarked, gripping his hand into a fist. "...My daughter-"
I raised a finger at that. "Eh, yes to the above, not to your daughter though, frankly she's been disrespecti-"
"Enough!" The man slammed a fist down onto the table, glaring at me.
I gave him a deadpan look.
"Or what?" I leaned in. "You gonna kill me?" A single beat passed as I tilted my head towards his brother. "He gonna poison me?" Another beat passed before I leaned back into my seat. "Been there, tried that."
"I said... Enough..." The man remarked, deflating into his seat, before raising his hand towards the bridge of his nose. "I can... Stand for a lot of things Karma-" He spat my chosen name out. "-But I will not have you disrespect my sister's memory."
"Funny that," I deadpanned, earning a twitch. "I don't remember disrespecting her-"
"Aegon is dead." Oberyn's patience seemed to run out as he found his voice, the man taking a few warning steps towards me as he raised his finger in the same direction. "I'll admit, I've seen you do some... Crazy things-" The man shook his head briefly. "Know impossible secrets but Aegon-"
"I am gonna stop you right there," I cut the man off with a shrug. "I'd like to introduce you two to a little something called-"
"Aegon. Is. Dead." Doran Martell echoed out, interrupting me again, his eyes practically darting around me.
I rolled my eyes at him.
"Maybe." I shrugged. "Maybe he is dead, maybe there's a pretender who believes he's him running around, or maybe he really survived." I put my hands up in defeat. "What the hell do ya think I am tryna find out here? If anyone's going to be able to tell, it'd be his family, and if my ninja can't find anyone matching that name east of Westeros, then I guess that's that."
I... probably shouldn't mention the fact I didn't actually need them to find out if he had a blood relation or not, but best leave that under wraps.
I doubted they were prepared for the... Costs of such an advancement to find out themselves nor the far less friendly means of blood magic.
"..." Doran Martell continued appraising me for a few moments, his brother just as thoughtful as he fell back against the wall. Oberyn's gaze surprisingly had a faint hint of hope in it, one he was desperately trying to drown. While Doran was... Well, trying to glare me into death.
"Still, I don't blame you for the reaction-" I snorted. "I mean if he really is alive and your nephew then... Well, with him been stranded with a Rhaeger-obsessed man-child of a mentor and a group of thugs... All alone? Talk about family of the century right?"
I idly noted Doran's shaking hand, and Oberyn's resigned expression.
"You are mad..." Doran shook his head. "And frankly, I don't know why I am entertaining you-"
"Funny thing is," I interrupted the man again. "Even if this were the T.V realm, there'd still be a 'secretly' Aegon Targaryen running about- And no, this time I am not talking about your nephew or the possible Blackfyre in Essos." I hummed to myself in thought.
Aegon Targaryen really was just such a consistent name in a way.
Could probably bootstrap a paradox out of it if I'd still had my powers.
Doran Martell just shook his head, any form of... I wouldn't say respect, but something close to it, vanishing from his eyes. "You're beyond hope." The man settled on saying.
"Probably." My remark definitely didn't help his expression.
"...T.V Realm?" Oberyn settled on questioning with a frown.
I snorted in response. "Above your paygrade I am afraid." A beat passed. "Still, considering the little princess is a thing, I've got high hopes for your nephew's existence- Provided he isn't a Blackfyre of course."
Doran Martell looked like he'd just given up on trying to understand me with the way he just shook his head again.
Oberyn Martell was still frowning as he rubbed his chin.
"Even if that were true... Who could've..." His eyes narrowed for a split second as he paused in his own question. Before they briefly widened..
I narrowed my eyes in response.
"Jog something in your memory?"
Doran's gaze seemed to snap towards his brother, the same curiosity as my own burning through him, at my question- Guess he was still paying some attention to what I said?
"Maybe..." Oberyn mulled his words over briefly. "The mentor you mentioned... Do you happen to know his name?"
"Jon Connington?" I questioned in response as I leaned back into my seat, watching as the prince's eyes narrowed again. "What about him?"
"...I met him, in Essos once..." Oberyn remarked as a hint of realization filled his eyes. "He told me it wasn't over- That the Targeryans would return..." I could practically see the gears turning in the man's head. "I thought he meant Viserys!" The man snapped out, hints of rage in his voice.
"Oberyn-" Doran Martell started, a somewhat haunted tone to his voice as his face rapidly switched back towards me, whatever he'd about to say cutting off as his brother copied his earlier act and smashed a fist onto the table.
"That bastard!"
"Well," I immediately followed the swearing prince. "Guess this bodes well for little Aegon- All that's left is to hope he's not a Blackfyre," I finished with a snort.
And then the proverbial elephant filled the room as both Prince's gazes snapped towards me as they, presumably, remembered what I'd tasked a Faceless man with.
Weeellll, Oberyn was staring at me like that. Doran just started shaking his head again, disbelief filling his gaze. The word 'impossible' muttered over and over again. "Aegon died... Crushed-"
"All babies look alike, especially after they're introduced to the Mountain." I immediately cut off what he'd about to say.
"If it-" Oberyn took over, either ignoring my remark or trying to salvage the situation- Though he still paused for a brief moment, the words difficult for him to even say. "-is my nephew, what will you do?"
"Well, I am planning to cut his throat if it's a Blackfyre, you know king's blood and all that- Might make a good catalyst for a bit of deadly sorcery for my person." Needless to say, Oberyn had looked about to practically try his luck with a blade at the start of my words, before settling for a disturbed expression when he processed the rest.
"Why not just end it yourself," Doran Martell chose to snap, gritting his teeth in the process. "Take a dagger and plunge it into your own heart if you're so desperate to die!"
I tilted my head at him. "'Cos I'd much rather avoid putting a hole in the planet?"
The man scoffed at me.
...Maybe I should just consider putting a hole in the planet.
Which it would- Forced suicide through a non-magical blade that is, it'd either cause that or probably blow up the comet in the sky and cause a meteor shower, on the planet- Either way, didn't bode well for my conscious, or every living being on this shithole of a world.
Suicide via magical/supernatural/valyrian steel blade would probably just blow Westeros itself the fuck up, but hey at least the White Walkers would be dealt with?
Hell, I'd probably stick around as a ghost out of regret or atonement- I'd met enough freaking Hogwart's ghosts to know how that goes.
Though in all honesty, the biggest issue would be that it wouldn't give me the chance to pay back the fuckers that put me in this... Form.
"...You haven't answered my question." Oberyn eventually stated. "What would you do if it was my nephew?"
"I dunno, probably give him the Iron Throne or something?" I shrugged. "I am certainly a much more reliable source for it than Jon fucking Connington."
And just like Doran Martell's previous... Feelings towards me rapidly changed. The man while still silent, had a far more positive expression on his face as he regarded me.
"...Just like that?" Oberyn questioned, his eyes the slightest bit widened as a smile slowly grew on his face. "You'd make him king?"
"Well, I am not gonna make him a god if that's what you're asking." A single beat passed. "I am gonna kill those fuckers."
It was telling that both of them completely disregarded that part.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 20: Interlude: Arianne Martell II
Next chapter should be an interlude from somewhere outside of Dorne. The mini Water Garden's Arc is going to come to an end soon.
...
She wasn't sure why more than half the people in the Garden seemed so... Fearful? Cowardly? There was a word for it, she just couldn't find it. Either way, it boggled her mind to see the looks on the guards, the cooks, and even the bloody Maester, faces whenever Karma was around, or even spoke off.
Honestly, they saw him for a beast intent on ripping their throats out.
As if he wouldn't have already done that if he'd wanted. The guards certainly couldn't do anything about it- The man had been asleep when over a dozen corpses had filled the castle trying to kill him. One of them a faceless man.
But truthfully, it was her father that confused her the most. Karma scared him a great deal, even if he'd never admit to it. Though why was the question she wanted answered.
The man was obviously in favor of their house, yet her father was doing everything he could to push him away.
Hell, if some of the secrets he'd proclaimed out loud were true, pushing him elsewhere was bound to end badly even.
It all made no sense.
Which oddly enough, seemed the opposite when it came to her uncle.
At least he seemed to see all that had occurred for the boon it was. Instead of settling for the fearmongers that swore up and down that the man was the Stranger. Which, really, even if it was true, should've only pushed them into accepting him all the more.
Truthfully, if there was a god to connect him to, she'd figured it would've been the Warrior, simply for the complete ass-kicking he'd handed her uncle and sworn sword.
Speaking of...
"What do you think of him?" She idly turned towards said knight, the man's gaze turning towards her, his eyes softening a great deal in the process.
"Karma?" The knight questioned, a sour tone filling his voice. "...He knows how to swing a sword, I'll give him that much." The man settled on answering with a shrug.
"Hm... He knows how to kill too," She snorted. "Judging by all the corpses my father had to deal with."
The knight's gaze seemed to twist at the words, his gaze turned appraisive a heartbeat later before he nodded warily.
"He'd make a good consort, don't you think?" She added on with amusement as she leaned back into her seat, the dancing waters before calming her as her gaze landed on her youngest cousin, obliviously playing around with the other children.
"...I wouldn't know, princess." The knight remarked after another moment, his tone far sourer than before. "I can't see your father agreeing to it though,"
She let out a scoff.
"This isn't one he can easily say no to," She remarked, a hint of humor in her tone- The words, unsurprisingly, not eliciting a reaction from her knight. Besides the twitch to his face.
"...He's dangerous, princess. You-"
"I like danger, Daemon," She immediately remarked, turning to lock gazes with the man. "I thought you knew that?"
Daemon Sand's gaze turned away at the words, instead settling on the pool before them.
"He calls himself a god, Arianne." He stated a moment later, before shaking his head. "Blasphemous, and so very arrogant-" Daemon paused for a brief moment before he shook his head again. "He's the kind of man to draw armies against him." His gaze settled down onto her, softening again. "Putting that kind of reputation behind you won't end well, even if Prince Doran made the right call of naming you his heir, as he should."
She raised an amused eyebrow at the man.
"My, my Daemon, are you suggesting my father is an idiot?"
It was almost adorable the way he seemed to freeze up, his words sputtering as they came out.
"It's- I mean to say, it is your birthright and-"
She let out another snort as she turned back towards the dancing waters before her, her elbows laid on top of the table.
"If I get him on my side..." She practically shivered. "Not that I'd want it- But even the crown itself wouldn't be far from my hands." A single beat passed. "Don't you think I'd look pretty? Sitting atop the Iron Throne? To have every kingdom beg for my favor, my mercy?"
Daemon's gulp was loud enough for her to hear.
"But... At what cost?" The man eventually questioned. "All he has is the Lannister's former dog... an order of assassins... And an inability to die... He'd need more than to take the crown..."
It was telling how little the man believed in his words, judging by his tone.
"You're not wrong..." She remarked with a sigh as she leaned her chin onto her arms. "But one could only imagine what he could accomplish if he set his mind to it... My uncle seems to think everything he's gained so far has been on accident..."
"Why imagine little princess?" The third voice quickly caused Daemon to stiffen, before the sound of a sword being drawn out filled her surroundings as she rapidly raised her head from the table towards its source.
Her eyes locked onto Karma's amused ones, the man had somehow snuck up on the two of them- despite the fact, there was a body of water that should've captured his reflection.
Daemon Sand, begrudgingly sheathed his sword as he took a protective step closer towards her.
"Why not just ask me yourself?"
Karma ignored him entirely, judging by the steps he took himself, though her own focus was on the pool before them. She could see her own image clearly, as well as her knight's and yet, despite the fact Karma stood before the both of them, not a hint of him showed up in the crystal clear water.
There was something oddly ominous about that.
"That's far enough, Karma..." Daemon Sand warned, only to let out a sigh the moment she raised her hand and urged him to give them some privacy.
Turning back towards the two, she found a tense exchange between them- Well, tense from Daemon's side, Karma didn't seem to have a care in the world as he stepped up towards her table and took the free seat.
She idly wondered why Daemon had spent so much time standing when he could've done the same.
She certainly wouldn't have minded.
After her knight made enough distance between them they couldn't be overheard- He always was a little too honor-bound by duty, she raised an eyebrow at the stranger.
"I am asking then," She remarked with a smile as she leaned in. "What could you do if you put your mind to it?"
"Take over the world." He answered without a missed beat. "Either that or destroy it- It's astounding how often those two coincide." The man finished with a thoughtful look.
She rolled her eyes at him before leaning back into his seat.
"Anywho, not here about that- Have you seen Sandor?"
She ignored the bout of disappointment that filled her.
"Why? Leaving so soon?" She had in fact seen him, the hound had been skulking around with Karma's new pet assassin, trying and failing to find a brothel within traveling distance. Though she imagined the Faceless man had no interest in such a thing.
"Haven't decided on that," The man snorted. "Gotta say, messing with your father is an astoundedly fun time."
"On that, we can agree," She nodded seriously for a moment before her face broke into a chuckle. "Seriously though, all these promises you keep making my family... Aegon living- Presumably," She shrugged. Her uncle had regaled her with their tale, in his efforts to convince her to... Presumably, bed or court the man whose only interest laid in the latest idiot to make an attempt on his life. "You-" She pointed a finger, a smirk growing on her face. "Offering him a crown?" She tilted her head. "One has to wonder how many of those are genuine?"
The man shrugged in response, the shit-eating grin on his face not at all welcome as she rolled her eyes.
"Seriously though, what is your endgame? What are you after- And don't say it's to die!" She remarked with a frown. "Honestly, there has to be something you actually want."
Karma tilted his head at her.
"There is." A single beat passed. "It just so happens to involve dying first."
She blinked a few times at that, her finger lowering onto the table.
"What?"
"Oh it's quite simple," He smiled at her, though for whatever reason the atmosphere around her seemed to quell whatever desire it would've brought up. Instead, the air seemed to turn tense, her eyes briefly turning towards the pool before them, once again finding no reflection, before turning back towards the amused stranger. "How best to put this-" The man leaned back onto his seat, his finger tapping his chin.
The lackadaisical nature did nothing to fill her with ease, as she felt something almost foreboding course through her.
"Imagine a shepherd, whose only interest and well, reason for living, was his flock of sheep... Imagine that flock was terrorized by an unseen demonic fox..."
The ridiculous start to the story, for whatever reason, only seemed to turn the air cold around her, almost as if she'd walked into an eery forest naked like the day she was born.
"In this case, the shepherd is akin to your gods, and the people of this continent... world, are the flock..."
"What are you-"
The man wagged a finger before her. "No, no this is the part it gets good-" He grinned at her. "See, the fox keeps eating the flock, sheep by sheep, hidden in the darkness... And the shepherd can't seem to deal with it himself, so he seeks out some help..." A single beat passed. "But it's a demonic little fox, so naturally the shepherd needs something magical- So he summons up a magical beast if you will, one equipped to deal with the demonic little bugger." Karma's smile quickly dropped, a passive expression taking over.
The cold feeling seemed to turn colder somehow, despite the blazing sun.
Her gaze was drawn into Karma's.
"The beast arrives... And without waiting a moment, without sparing a thought into it-" Karma's eyes narrowed. "The shepherd puts a curse on it... And only realizes too late that... In hopes of dealing with a little demonic fox..." Karma leaned in. "He'd summoned a dragon, and put a leash around its neck."
Karma leaned back, his face no longer inches away from hers- A fact that somewhat startled her given she hadn't noticed.
"And all that dragon wants to do, little princess, is burn him alive for his arrogance."
She held in the urge to gulp, practically enraptured into the story.
The coldness that swept through her had reverted, the sun's heat filling her quickly.
"The curse, powerful though it may be, is slowly breaking apart... Piece by piece... And all the shepherd can do is give the dragon everything it can, in hopes of appeasing it... In hopes of making it forget the leash it forced onto it..."
She let out the breath she hadn't even noticed she'd been holding.
Karma tilted his head at her again.
"Do you get it, little princess?" He chuckled once. "My death won't lead to an end... But the beginning something greater..." He leaned again, a finger pushing her chin upwards. The sheer cold touch behind it startled her again as she shivered.
"I've no interest in your petty Games of Thrones... I can offer your cousin, if he lives, a crown, because it means nothing to me." A single beat passed. "The only thing I am interested in is paying back your gods for dragging me into this world... To burn them all."
"...Aren't you arrogant," She found herself saying, her regret piling itself up for a moment- Only to crumble the moment the man let out a laugh as he let go of her chin.
"Arrogant? Possibly. But it won't change the fact that when it's all said and done... I'll be the last one standing."
She wasn't sure why she wasn't even sure how such events could come across-
Belief in the gods was never her strong suit, a fact she kept hidden out of practicality.
But at that moment, in front of the man that claimed he would slay the very gods that presumably guided her world...
She believed him.
"...Marry me." She deadpanned towards him, her words breaking his expression as the man settled into a long hearty laugh.
"You really are insane, aren't you?" She frankly couldn't believe he'd said that to her!
"I am not the one trying to win a war against the gods here!" She scoffed, before settling into her fit of laughter at it all.
"Win a war?" The man chuckled at her before rolling his eyes. "Please. that implies uncertainty, and there's nothing uncertain about what I am trying to do."
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 21: Interlude: The Old Lion II
Very Raw, do mention any mistakes you see!
...
"And who, are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low?"
The sound and music startled him awake from his slumber. His gold-flaked brows shot upwards as quickly as his body did, his gaze landing inside the Hands Tower's spacious room.
"Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know!"
His widening eyes swept around the empty room before they narrowed at the sight of the entrance- Where were his guards!?
Practically jumping out of the bed, the Lannister Lord carefully inched closer towards his door, the sound of the blaring instrument of some kind not all dwindling or increasing.
"In a coat of gold or a coat of red, a lion still has claws!"
The words seemed to make him shudder for a brief moment, his fears palpating at the unknown voice before he reached his door and swung it open, the roar for his guards choking up as quickly as it came out as he fell a few steps backward- There was nothing outside his door but air. The wind buffeting into his widened expression without reprieve as it threatened to push him onto his ass.
"And mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours!"
The voice turned quieter, more directed as Tywin felt his fingers twitch, his body slowly turning around towards the only window in the hand's chamber.
Sat before the said window, the visage of a man he was certain hadn't been there before, a very strange instrument in his hands, one he calmly put down beside him.
"You know, I always wondered if you got off to that song." The stranger chuckled as his own panic swiveled around inside him. After a brief moment, he let a passive expression take over, tentatively giving the entrance that led into nothingness and air another look before he closed it and quiet down the wind.
"What is... This!? He barely managed to keep his tone quiet as he glared at the stranger.
"Oh, I figured that was obvious- You're dreaming little cat." A single beat passed as he processed the ridiculous statement. "Well, sort of anyway."
Idly reaching a pair of fingers towards his other arm, he promptly grabbed a piece of flesh hard- The pain not registering as he let out a mild breath of relief, only for said relief to die down as his gaze settled back onto the smiling stranger.
"What sorcery is this!?" He ground out through his teeth as he stood to his full height. His panic was hidden from his eyes.
The strange chuckled at the question as he stood up as well, and calmly turned his back to him as he opened up the closed window.
"Oh you know, a little bit of faith and some worshippers from a death cult- Turns out that's the only form of power your gods can't mess around with." The stranger idly glanced down outside the window and let out a whistle before he turned back towards him. "So arrogant- Even your dreams place you atop everything else."
"..A death cult?" He questioned warily.
"The Faceless Men." The stranger remarked with a wave of his hand. "Rowdy bunch, but uh- Can't complain about the result."
His eyes widened once again before they settled into a scowling expression.
"Karma..."
The stranger pointed a finger at him.
"Got it in one!" Before he chuckled, a mad glint and tone filled in. "Still, even with the cult's bout of faith- I couldn't have shown up here without you-" The man shook his head. "So much fear and hatred, and awe in one man- You have no idea how easy it was to pinpoint your soul." The man clapped his hands, almost startling a jump out of him. "Anywho, Tywin, I wouldn't mind me really, I am just testing the waters out and all- Turns out death and dreams have a lot in common."
"...You killed my daughter..." He eventually settled on for a reply as anger filled him once again. Despite the absurdity of it all, despite the... Sorcery that was the one emotion that filled him-
"Yeah... But, like, I also left your son alive so- We cool?" The man deadpanned, reaching out a closed fist. After a brief moment of him narrowing his gaze at the other, Karma rolled his eyes. "Well, you win some and lose some I guess-"
He simply started shaking his head, urging himself to wake up. He'd quite frankly had enough of this murmur, or sorcery or whatever it was-
"Leaving so soon?" Karma's voice washed over him, the man gutting as he waved a finger from side to side. "I didn't say you could go-"
His anger returned in full.
"What is the point of this!?" He growled out, his emotions overwhelming him at the meaning of it all.
A sorcerer, a murmur, a trick by the gods, or even a nightmare- None of those we're options he'd ever entertain the thought! Let alone know how to deal with it.
"Like I said, testing the waters and all. But by the look on your face you're having a hard time digesting it all so..." Karma grinned at him, sending a swirl of dread through him. "Ask your son what your poor little witch of a daughter's final cries were..." A single beat passed. "Spoiler alert, she was begging for you to come to save her- You know after trying to bribe me not to slice her neck."
The sense of dread turned back to anger following those words- Jaime had been forced to watch Cersei's final moments?
His son never mentioned that part.
"Toodles-" Karma broke him out of his stupor as he waved a hand at him. The world around him twisted and turned the room sideways and everything from the carpets to the bed, to the bloody mirror, started turning into smoke. "Oh, right, uh, one more thing Tywin-" The man added on even as the world swirled around him. "I wouldn't recommend praying to your gods for guidance... Soon enough they won't be able to hear anything."
He ignored the words- He'd never once entertained the notion of it.
...
When his son confirmed Cersei's dying words, having asked for it in detail- Jaime's bravado having long died down in his gilded cage of a room, replaced only by the faintest of a vacant stare.
Tywin Lannister simply nodded curtly as he left his even more bemused child, his thoughts warring with themselves as fear and dread filled him for the first time since the Rebellion.
He wasn't dealing with a Targaryan- this was no Rayne or Tarbeck...
No... This was something much worse.
Needless to say, for the first time since his wife's death, Tywin Lannister found himself willfully standing in the Sept of Baelor, his silent prayers or rather staring at the seven statues ignored by the others- All of whom had slowly left thanks to his guards to give him privacy.
Yet, the only thing that answered him there, was a female voice.
When he turned his narrowed gaze towards the voice, he found a pale woman dressed in red and-
His eyes widened the slightest bit as he slowly turned around and calmly greeted the returned Prince of Dragonstone.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 14
Bit of a controversial chapter in terms of escalation, but uh, it's definitely crazy?
It's also super raw, so mention any mistakes!
...
It all gnawed at him, deep within.
His elder brother, unsurprisingly, hadn't even bothered to show up to greet him at the docks, nor his niece- The very same niece he'd intended to have married to a bastard.
Oh, he wasn't stupid, he certainly knew why- The threat of war, and more so, the threat of Robert's reputation amongst the continent would otherwise be at risk if they settled for the truth. And marriage to Shireen was the only way, that Robert seemed intent on using, to truly keep Baratheon blood on the throne.
Tommen Hills would be nothing more than a consort in truth, Shireen the true power behind the throne, but even then it all gnawed at him.
All those sleepless nights working in tandem with the deceased Hand, trying to uncover the secrets of the Lannister twins- Every waking moment spent wondering if there was a shadow with a dagger poised for their backs.
For it to have all been uncovered by Ned Stark, in a shadow of the amount of time it had taken him and Jon Arryn?
Incompetence. Fear. Recklessness.
While he and Arryn had settled for patience, and certainty and... Cowardice. Eddard Stark hadn't been inclined to.
No, the man, if his red priestess was to be believed, had somehow brought forth the service of the mad man going around the continent calling himself a god and bade him pay the Queen for her treachery before the wolf went right to Robert's face and made sure the realm didn't bleed over his ignorance.
To ignore his pride and do what was best for the crown.
Before bringing such... Destructive proof before the Old Lion himself and wrangling him by his tail as he disgraced his now heir before the crown, and writ the kingdom's debt to the Westerlands down to nothing.
Eddard Stark was a far braver man than he or Jon Arryn had ever been.
Even now, if the word around the docks was to be believed, the man was still working on fulfilling his duty as he went home, gave up the power of the Hand, an office few could only dream of, to prepare to bring a war to his own good-sister for her treachery.
Oh, it still gnawed at him to be sure- But what was he to do?
He may have been Robert's heir in truth, but it was Robert himself who ordered him to ignore it- And, despite it all, he understood why.
To proclaim the Crown without an heir would be to rip the rug from underneath them. The Westerlands would certainly not take it lying down, even though they rightfully should- He had no doubt the Old Lion had them prepared for war. With or without his leadership. The Reach would smell their opportunity and likely do something tremendously stupid. The Iron Isles were as to like declare themselves an independent kingdom, again. The Vale would likely fall to the mad whims of its current lady and the Riverlands would bleed regardless.
Just as Jon Arryn had forewarned- Though he hadn't known of the Vale at the time.
Yet, the North had cut it all off at the knees.
And above all, if Robert fell, who was to follow him?
The Red Priestess, to his immense displeasure, had shown him the flames of what would've been his future. Urged him to do as his king commanded, for the sake of the realm.
He had never been a believer in the Gods. And yet, a hearth's fire shouldn't have painted him such a visual.
And even as he'd begrudgingly sent his acceptance, as he'd begrudgingly brought his only child back to this cesspool of a city-
His damned brother hadn't seen fit to greet him!
As if he'd been responsible for the blasted affair himself!
He calmed his nerves as he walked towards the Sept, his guard uneasy as they stared all around him, taking in the onlookers.
Thankfully, his daughter wasn't with him this very moment- Renly, to his surprise, having been there to receive them and take his family to their chambers.
Though even he'd been somewhat surprised to learn of his need to visit the sept, even if he rolled with it before the prying eyes.
Truth be told, the only reason he was visiting was due to the woman beside him, garbed in red as she always was. Drawing eyes and ears from all around to her.
She'd promised him more proof of the need for his sacrifice- A promise she'd kept on giving ever since they first left. For whatever reason, they needed to meet Tywin Lannister of all people as soon as they left the dock.
Somehow having foreseen the fact they wouldn't be busy dealing with a royal receiving fit for their station.
Even still, the woman had been... Somewhat helpful, and so he'd obliged- If only because she'd promised to keep her... Sermons under wraps.
Yet, even he'd been somewhat surprised to hear of the fact they'd meet the supposed Old Lion in the Sept of Baelor of all places.
He'd never taken Tywin Lannister for a pious man and following the recent events made the idea he was all the more incredulous.
"My prince is unsettled," Melisandre remarked, a strange tone to her voice. "Fear not-"
"I fear nothing woman." He narrowed his gaze at her as they came upon the infamous sept.
She didn't respond to that and instead turned towards the entrance filled with Lannister guards.
Guards that immediately seemed to make way for them to enter when they took notice of who he was. Their bows were rewarded with a minor nod- While Melisandre looked about to start berating them for their false beliefs.
It was after all a holy place, and even Tywin Lannister couldn't hold it all for himself.
Especially from a prince.
For whatever reason, the thought gave him a hint of amusement, that he did not show.
It didn't take long for his gaze to lock onto the surprised Old Lion- The man to his own surprise, actually offering him a formal bow for once, without a hint of a taunt to it.
At the very least, it seemed the man understood that without his daughter... Well.
War.
"My prince, I was not made aware you would be arriving so soon-" His eyes seemed to narrow. "Rest assured whoever was responsible for failing to inform the crown will be punished for it."
He doubted that.
"We came with haste... Given the situation-" His gaze fell on the Hand's pin, and thankfully held in the urge from showing any reaction to it, instead merely tipping his head. "-Lord Hand." He remarked briskly.
Tywin Lannister, if he noticed his... Issues with the appointment didn't seem to say anything of it, more focused on his words.
"Perhaps we should convene-"
Yet whatever it was he was about to say, was promptly interrupted by Melisandre.
And though he would've chastised the woman for speaking out of turn, it certainly felt good to see it happen to the father of those two abominations.
"Shadows dance around you my lord," The woman started as she took a step forward, completely disregarding propriety- The act caused the older man to narrow his gaze once again, though surprisingly he held his mouth for whatever reason.
Everything, then and there, seemed to slow down as Stannis blinked- Watching the pale hand of the intrigued woman beside him reach out, the glint in her eyes turning far more noticeable than ever-
And then, everything promptly went wrong.
He watched, disbelief filling his eyes as Tywin Lannister stumbled back, his own eyes wide as he called for his guards-
His own guards, to his surprise, practically shoved him away from the suddenly screaming and burning, priestess.
The burn so quick it was as if she'd touched wildfire itself!
He watched as flames, dark and bright, poured out and twisted all around the woman as she clutched at her head. A strange fluid of some sort rapidly dropped down from her blank white eyes.
Outside the sept, a great big commotion started going up, of men and children crying about a fire in the sky- Yet his focus was on the priestess still somehow burning, still somehow alive, and above all still screaming-
His gaze took in the Old Lion wondering if he'd somehow done something- Yet all he found was dread and shock filling his own gaze as it darted around, searching for an assailant of some sort.
"My prince-" His guard's words were promptly interrupted as Melisandre's screaming died down, the flames along with it, as her hands left their head and fell down useless by her side. Hysterical words filtered through his own ears as the fluid from earlier kept falling from the blank pools of her eyes.
"...The Lord... Of Light..." Her head snapped upwards, before tilting to the right as it stared at the Stranger, the grotesque burns were ignored as he felt his heart beat faster. "...Has fallen..." Melisandre's burned face turned from the statue to him. "Karma..." The name caused The Old Lion to stiffen, an audible intake of breath heard. "...Has risen... My prince..."
And then, those very same eyes turned towards Tywin Lannister's fearful ones- Though the man seemed unable to turn away from them.
She opened her mouth and started to laugh, a strange glint of light filling her blank eyes as she stared at the Old Lion.
The man's guards tentatively put themselves between priestess and the lord.
"What is the meaning of this!?" He wasn't sure who the Lannister was questioning, nor did he feel obligated to answer.
Yet before any words could even come out of him, if they wanted to, a strange voice came out of Melisandre- One not of her own.
"The soul of a queen... Who was never a princess..." Ash started forming at the woman's feet, slowly crawling up- Or rather, slowly turning the woman's burnt flesh itself into it. "And the soul of a firstborn son promised a throne..."
Needless to say, he well and truly reignited his belief in the gods.
And judging by the look on Lannister's face so did he.
Over half the woman's body had succumbed to the ash as he watched her slowly crumble down, his mind unable to process everything properly- And given the frozen stature everyone else was favoring, from the guards to the priests who'd run up to them and even to the smallfolk who'd dared venture inside, neither could they.
"For the soul of a princess, who was never a queen..." A mad rictus grin filled the woman's burnt face as more guards rapidly filled into the sept, panic writ across their face. "And the soul of a firstborn daughter never intended a throne..."
And with that, all of them watched stupefied as the rest of Melisandre's form quickly turned to nothingness, floating in the wind.
And unbeknownst to them all, the cries of a god went unheard as the Fire of R'hllor burned out permanently.
Laughter quickly took its place.
...
Down south of Kings Landing, in the utterly shock-filled halls of the Water Gardens, a certain Hound stared in just as much, if not more shock at the scene before him.
"Yeah... Faith's absolutely going to lose their shit over this one."
"Ya think?" Deadpanned Karma, his appearance and the air he held himself with forever changed as the mad death sorcerer or some such took note of his newest, hauntingly ethereal, look in the near burned-out pool behind him, his faceless pet staring at the mad cunt in complete wonder- All the while the shocked hopeful cries of the second Prince of Dorne filled his surroundings.
"Elia..?"
The broken whisper was ignored by the startled woman, her own focus taken by the cries of the child that had shown up beside her.
...
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