Blackheart (GoT, Witcher, DC)

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***

Varis.

Varys had been anticipating an interesting spectacle since the morning, made possible by several people among whom King Robert, his younger brother Renly, Lord Stark's new Hand, and also Lord Damian Blackheart, who until recently had been a Rivers blood from Lord Walder Frey's blood, should be thanked first and foremost.

The boy had risen to eminence on a fortunate occasion, but nevertheless he had shown that he was worthy of more and did not wear his spurs and have men loyal to him for nothing.

The birds reported to him everything that had happened on Wrathful Cape in great detail, even the details of his military stratagems. And as he put the big picture together in his head, Varys began to realise that Randyll Tarly, Tywin Lannister, Robert Baratheon and many other important commanders of his time would soon be replaced by new warlords. And Damian Blackheart is one of them.

Who would have thought such a nugget would be found in the vast Frey family?

In any case, there would be a hearing of the already notorious case, attended by all the "guilty parties", as well as courtiers and members of the Small Council.

It took place in the Throne Room. Varys was one of the last to arrive; alas, affairs of state had delayed him. Someone other than Ned Stark should be sad about that.

- Lord Damien Blackheart. - said Ned Stark, standing beside the throne. - You know that the punishment for breaking the King's Peace is heavy and inevitable for anyone who breaks it?

- Of course, Lord Hand. - Blackheart smiled at him. - And I am sorry that some lords have broken it and will be punished for it. But let me ask why I was recalled from a punitive campaign against those who violated it. I only had to take two castles and then approach Storm's End to speak to Lord Renly.

- You wouldn't have had the strength, My Lord, if you'd wanted to. I have the nerve, though! - the younger Baratheon, who was also present. - Your men brazenly stole from my trusted men and nearly took their lives. Ser Loras Tyrell, my commander of the Guard, has travelled to you to settle the matter peacefully on the spot.

- With the help of a thousand soldiers and your vassals you sicced on me? - Blackheart squinted. - I am not a skilled diplomat, but I hardly call it peace.

- Ser Loras. - I interrupted the squabble between the two lords and turned to the aforementioned person. - What orders did your suzerain give you?

- He ordered me to move with a strong detachment to Grievous Town to settle the conflict and recover the amount of tax owed to him. At the same time, he sent ravens to the other lords of Angry Cape to assist me on my journey and witness our conversation.

- And you and Lord Renly gathered nearly five thousand men for this? - Stark asked warily. - Ten times that number would have been enough for an honourable escort and guard.

At the same moment, the king himself became animated.

- As soon as I arrived in the capital, I received a message from my lord bannerman, and he described what had happened in detail. Your men Renly wanted to take the gold that was owed as a tax to Lord Mourning's suzerain. That would be me! Didn't you know I gave this city and the lands surrounding it to Blackheart? And I gave him the right to defend that which was bestowed upon him for his good service and the deed in which he saved your niece. But you, Renly, have broken many boundaries. Just because you're my brother doesn't mean you're above the law! What's more, you lied to me about trying to keep the peace in the Stormlands! Ser Baristan, Ser Merrin, and the Kingslayer did a little investigating and found out an interesting thing. You didn't send some kind of message after the reprimand Ned and I gave you! None of those lords in the Cape of Wrath, nor any of the other vassals, received any message other than to help Tyrell "punish the criminal"! Did you think I was stupid?!

Renly Baratheon was startled, though he tried to hide it behind his words:

- He is an outlaw. He's broken every law of war!

- And what laws of war, may I ask, have I broken? - Blackheart wondered.

- Failed to negotiate before the battle. - Baratheon declared.

- In fact, I sent Ser Lary Shortshanks, my castellan, to try to bring you back in peace before the battle of the Rainforest. But Ser Loras laughed at his words, as all the lords and sires who stood by him witnessed. And besides, no knightly code or military code provides for negotiation before every battle. Although before each fortress was taken, I met with the lords and offered them a bloodless outcome. But they refused.

Spider hummed to himself. The birds had whispered to him that Lari was very hospitable to Lady Mary Mertins, and she seemed to have already fallen in love with the hot Dornishman. So Blackheart, if he had deliberately and purposefully put his loyalist under her, would gain influence over her in the future, and now it was possible that if she was asked how it all went down, she would tell a prepared story....

- Ser Loras! Were these negotiations of which Lord Blackheart speaks?! - Ned Stark interjected again.

- They were. A certain Ser Lari the Short-Handed did meet with me and the others who accompanied me. - Tyrell apologised, knowing full well what would follow.

- If only for the fact that you attacked in the night! - The Lord of Storm's End suddenly blurted out.

- Ha! Did you know, boy, why there are sentries and sentries at night? - He grinned with a hint of contempt. - So that you don't get your head blown off by the enemy at night! Ask anyone who has ever fought in a war about night fighting! They'll tell you that, as a rule, nobody attacks at night just because of poor visibility or unwillingness to be captured. It's hard to fight at night. But even I, in the days of the Targaryen rebellion, was not averse to leading small units into battle at night! Cretin!

- He started the fire and--

- I apologise, Lord Renly, for interrupting you. - Blackheart smiled wickedly. - But I can explain to you what happened on the very night of the Battle of the Rainforest. Your Majesty?

- Speak! - Baratheon nodded approvingly.

- That day I decided to fight the invaders of my lands and my rebellious vassals who supported them. - Varys saw Baratheon grimace as he recalled the Battle of Summer Castle, when he had defeated three of his greatest vassals in one day, all of whom had remained loyal to the Targaryens. - But we were a little late due to our small transports, and we arrived closer to evening, but we were ready to fight at any time. In response, the assembled army of the Lords of Wrathful Cape behaved strangely, to say the least, as they camped in the middle of our future battlefield and began to drink, rejoice, and sing songs. Of course, we were outraged by this behaviour. But I couldn't attack like that, so I sent my loyal knight to meet them with a warning that I would attack within the hour. I didn't care whether it was day or night, nor did my brave warriors. But my messenger did not return, and at the expiration of the hour we attacked. And in order that both sides might see better by night, we set fire to some empty tents, and before we did so we also shouted a counting cry, in order to give fair notice that we were going into battle. And the fact that nearly a thousand men died because of the failure of commanders to make their subordinates look good is not my fault! I was only defending my lands. And what's more, I defended them when the enemy had the numerical advantage, but I'm not accusing you Lord Renly of being mean or unfair to me, am I? This is war! And the fact that I won is to my credit and the credit of my men, and perhaps even--

- Enough! Your Majesty, Renly has appealed. - this man deserves to be punished. Several lords and my friends have died at his hands.

- Shut up Renly! - Robert shouted, and rose from his throne, walking slowly down towards Blackheart.

When he stood opposite him, he gazed into his eyes.

- I see before me no coward, no traitor, no brigand, and no sycophant! I see before me a man who has earned what he has by the right of my word and my sword. I have given him lands to earn an income and pay me taxes as a vassal. To serve me. Not you or Stannis or my wife or anyone else. ME! I am the King and I decide who is right. And I've listened to all of you and I've come to the conclusion that the only thing he did wrong was not chopping off your friend Tyrell's head.

Some in the hall smiled, for they were well aware of the connection between the younger Baratheon's former squire and their suzerain.

- Lord Blackheart, I am grateful that you have shown your strength and that I still have loyal and strong men who are not afraid of blood and are ready to fight when needed. But you Renly... under me, all the lords of the Stormlands knew how to fight, and were brave. Each Stormlander was worth a dozen other warriors from the Seven Kingdoms. You're a lousy High Lord! Moreover, you have shown by your actions that you are also a lousy and undeservedly chosen master of the law by me. Therefore, you will henceforth be stripped of that title and someone more worthy than you will take it. Be glad I have not yet taken the Storm's End from you and given it to Stannis or my heir and sent you to the Night's Watch!

Renly was pitiful to watch. Even Varys sympathised with him, but still. Varys began to think of new and interesting twists and turns in the situation. The outcome of this "interrogation," which Robert had intended from the start not to be an interrogation but simply a confrontation between Renly and Damin Blackheart, had deprived Renly of his seat on the Small OWLs and soured relations between the brothers. And this red-eyed lord has clearly become somewhat of a new favourite of the king. At least the king has a soft spot for him.

- That will be the end of it. - Robert grumbled unhappily. - And you, Ned, remember for the future that it's not worth gathering so many people for such rubbish. We could have learnt that over a cup of wine, not my arse here on the Iron Throne. I need a drink-- Blackheart!

- Yes, Your Majesty. - the dark-haired one has sprung to life.

- Come with me, I need company. Ned never drinks in the morning. Even if I told him to. Besides, the Small Council will be meeting soon, and I won't have company.

- Gladly, my king. - Blackheart smiled and followed the king.

The spider hummed as he looked at the 'witnesses' who had been brought to the capital on the king's orders, but did not utter a word at the 'trial'. Robert seemed to have decided deep down in his heart that Blackheart was innocent. Though he was. Renly was just too arrogant and overconfident.

That was the result!

Varys, on the other hand, stayed to the last man in the Throne Room until only he and a couple of other guards were left at the front door. For a while, the Spider stared at the old statue that had served as an indicator of Targaryen power and strength. Now it was being sat upon by a long-time collateral descendant of Aegon the Conqueror, who looked more like another Aegon... Unworthy.

Varys had mixed feelings. His birds had reported many things to him, including Blackheart, but it was not for him to judge him and form a definite opinion. Blackheart was clearly not an ordinary young man and with ability. But it was how to use him in his Game that Spider did not yet know. But he will. The main thing is to gather more information.

Damian Blackheart.

The conversation with Robert was, as they say, intimate.

We were being guarded by Kingslayer while we drank ourselves blue. It was 3:00 in the afternoon, and Baratheon couldn't get enough. He was constantly reprimanding Lancel his cupbearer for running out of wine, and he used many hurtful phrases in his direction.

Eventually, the conversation turned to Robert's canonical words about battles and the rebellion that was named in his honour.

Just then Ser Barristan came up, bringing a paper from the Hand to sign.

- I'm sick and tired of this paperwork! - Robert raised his eyes to the ceiling. - I hope that one day all the ink in the world will be gone, and I shall not need to pick up a quill.

- But it will be possible to sign in blood. - I advised him. - More blood could be obtained at any moment.

- Ha-ha-ha-ha. I like you after all, Blackheart. - Baratheon is even more amused. - I like the way you think. You and I are warriors. And our path is to kill and bleed our enemies. It's a path we begin with the first kill, the first blood we spill to survive. I killed my first enemy at the Battle of the Bells. I don't remember what kind of knight was there..." Robert sank into his memories. - He must have seen me in the heat of battle, in the centre of the battle, and decided to end the rebellion by killing me. I hit him in the chest with all my might, probably broke all his ribs with my hammer. Within moments he was choking on his own blood and begging me not to kill him. And then... then I smashed his head in with my hammer. He shit himself before that. No minstrel will write about it, no one will remember it. Everyone remembers the heroes, the battles, the "complexities", but no one talks about how they pissed and shit themselves out of fear or before they died. It's not nice. Nobody talks about it. And I've seen it and I remember it... Who was your first?

- I had a woman. - I was embarrassed, pretending I didn't understand the question.

- Ha ha, that's not what I mean. Who did you kill first?

- Some peasant robber, I think. I was a squire at the time and we were ambushed by the brigands, but we put them down quickly. Then after my first kill, I threw up for a long time. I was twelve years old. - I wasn't ready, I wasn't trained to kill, and I was using my sword like a lame, one-armed, slant-eyed prat. - and scratched his beard. - I did kill him then, purely by accident, with a spear. I wanted to scare him away from me, but I ended up ripping his belly open and scratched his throat with the reverse movement. And after that, I don't even remember who it was.....

- What did he say before he died? - Robert persisted and moved closer.

- No, just something he shouted, like a battle cry.

- I see. And you, Ser Baristan, who was your first?

- A mercenary from the Fox, during the Nine-Grove Kings, we fought on the Steps, then I put a spear through his heart.

- A quick death. - Robert nodded approvingly. He reached for the wine, but there was none in the goblet, and then Robert glanced at a pale Lancel Lannister. Who stood with an empty jug. - Where's the wine?

- Erm... it's gone... it's gone. - He's got his head even more screwed on straight.

- No?! You arsehole, Lancel, did you know that? Get your skinny arse out and don't come back without wine... And call your cousin, Kingslayer.

Jaime came in almost immediately and grinned at his king.

- We share here who we had first. Who did you kill first Kingslayer, besides the old men?

Jaime faintly grimaced, but kept his cool. I could see his fingers lightly stroking the hilt of his sword. Selmy and the fat man didn't see it, and they weren't really looking. I'm the observant one. No matter what I say, the Kingslayer's words hurt.

- A member of the Brotherhood of the Forest.

- I remember that day. - Baristan chimed in. - You were sixteen years old then, still a squire.

- Did he say anything before he died?

- No! He said nothing. I cut his head off quickly. You can't talk much without a head. - smiled the blond. - If that's all, Your Grace, I think I'll go and keep your peace. - He bowed and left.

Soon Baristan Selmy bowed as well.

- Tell me, where will you put all the money you took from the Lords of Angry Cape? - Baratheon asked me. - You are now one of the richest lords in all the Stormlands. Only my brother and the Swanns would be richer.

- I'm thinking of getting married.

- Marry? - the king was outraged. - What the hell do you need it for now? Look at me! Before I got married, I was strong as an ox, I was a hammer, I smashed everything around me, I fucked for hours on end. I was feared and respected. Nobody could say a word against me. And once I got married, my whole life went to shit. Trust me, in time, you'll get up three times a night to pee, just like me. Your kidneys and balls will hurt, your head will hurt from all the shit that a man in your position is supposed to do. Your wife won't please you, your children will disappoint you, and all you'll want to do is go hunting, go to war, or go to brothels like me. Don't ruin your youth. Don't make the same mistakes I did.

- Believe me, things will be different with me. Besides, I'll raise all my children, boys and girls alike. As it happens, our family on my mother's side is quite ancient and almost all of them are warriors. Especially the women. They're berserkers. She's the one I was born into.

- Ha! That's fortunate, then. - Baratheon smiled, setting his glass down for Lancel, who had already returned with the wine. - I've seen your father, and it's a blessing to be born like your mother. You can scare the shit out of a man with your looks, but in a good way. All right! If you're going to get married, get married, but don't complain later that I didn't warn you about everything. Who's the one you're going to marry? Who are you thinking of marrying?

- I don't know yet. But I've got a couple of options. Depending on which one comes up, I'll marry her.

- There are plenty of maidens in the King's Lands and even in the Stormlands, and widows with lands and titles. I think you can win them over. - Robert grinned.

- Perhaps, but we'll see. - I shrugged and saluted with my cup.

I didn't get rid of him until later in the evening. He'd decided to go to Baelish's brothel himself, and he wanted to take me with him. But I told him I was tired from the road and wanted to give my boys a prophylactic thrashing. He approved and went on his way.

I took Rex's best boys with me, his own, for he had already recovered and was following me around. Gerda, Daren, Theo Frey, Marik, Varick and two dozen of my Guards, Tom of the Seven Streams, of course my squire Jon Snow, and some mercenaries. Obara became my whore after all and sailed with us, along with a dozen of her boys, followed by her younger sisters Nymeria (who also took half a dozen riflemen with her) and Tiena, who peeped at us and enjoyed free porn in the Mourner's garden. I left the rest of my officers in the Sorrowful, I need someone there to keep an eye on order, and keep an eye on the improvements in the city. I've given the necessary instructions and allocated enough money.

My boys had settled in quite nicely on the grounds of the Red Castle and were relaxing. I was tempted to have a little debauchery with Obara and some of the other local maids, but I decided to postpone it.

I'm in King's Landing, which means I get to meet a lot of people, see and participate in a lot of canon events.

One of the first thoughts that came to me was to recruit Gendry Waters to join me, but not now, after Ned Stark starts digging up the ground after the tip-off about Arryn's death. And as early as the day of the king's death, or shortly before, I can show up at the forge and take Gendry to myself. I know how to lure young men to me. So there should be no problem.

Various craftsmen and craftswomen in certain trades. The first one that comes to mind is the master armourer Salloreon, in canon he organised craftsmen and tradesmen of various levels into some sort of "stags" to support Stannis. And this seems to have had less to do with love for Baratheon's middle-aged, and more to do with discontent with the Lannisters. After all, the memory of the atrocities of the "lions" was still alive. Even if it's not possible to use them here in King's Landing, at least I can poach them in Mourning. I will need such men there. I'll have time to see how good they are, though. And my men and I will need new swords, spears and pieces of armour.

Then it would be good to get some individuals on my side. Preferably good skilful knights, or even someone from the Royal Guard.

With the Kingsguard in mind, I'm certainly not going to go along with Greenfield, Lannister, and Trant, who is not only a Lannister mutt, but also a coward and a rare fool. Boros Blount is a very cowardly but loyal man to Cersei Lannister. So he also falls out.

Ser Mendon Moore, who's from the Vale, he's already quite an interesting figure, not just out of purely general curiosity, but purely for me. I even sympathise with him in a way.

His distinguishing feature was his absolutely lifeless, impenetrable face, on which no emotion could be read. Mendon Moore is probably the most dangerous of the Kingsguard. That's what Jaime thought in the canon. You can't tell from his face what he wants or what he'll do, no one can ever see his emotions. And from that, what he will do in the next moment is unknown to anyone. Though I can guess at the possible abnormalities in his head. He's from the Vale himself, and he was brought to King's Landing by Jon Arryn. Robert gave him a white cloak after some year, but he had no particular love for him. He wasn't particularly friendly, and people didn't like to honour him at tournaments, but he didn't care. And it wasn't because of his failures. He was a skilled fighter and a master of his craft. Though even his fellow Royal Guards didn't have much sympathy for him.

When I talked to Clegane Jr. back in the North about King's Landing, he told me a lot of things, including Moore. So I have yet to put together a plan to talk and recruit Moore.

Next up is Ser Aris Ockhart, a knight from the Expanse. By canon, a man of his word, a good swordsman and quite good with a spear. Sociable and friendly, not exactly fond of the Dornish especially House Dane, with whom House Ockhart has a long standing feud. He likes to gossip, but carefully, and is generally an inquisitive person. He's a man to work with.

And last of all, Ser Baristan Selmy. A man of his word, respected and known by all. An unrivalled swordsman. And in my humble opinion the most dangerous warrior in the Seven Kingdoms, on a par with Moor. The Hound and Herold Dane are a close second. I can't say for the rest of the famous fighters, because I haven't met them personally and I can't say for sure. Although I have also seen the training of the Guardsmen more from the outside than personally crossed blades with them. But still, I'm confident.

The last three could be John's likely guardsmen. The key is to talk to them properly and get them out in time for Robert's death. And after Renly dies and I think Stannis dies, there will be no likely "legitimate" claimants left at all. If the three of them could be sent away from the Harbour for a while at an important moment in history, they would simply not swear an oath to Joffrey, and so, when they learn of his origins, they won't have much choice.

The main thing is not to miss the moment, and to take advantage of the situation. A lot of things may go wrong, but improvisation is everything.

Hah!

We should get some rest after all. Starting tomorrow, I'll start training hard for the Tournament of the Hand, and I need to look for the entrances and exits of the King's Harbour dungeons and the secret passages of the Red Castle. I may need them.

To be continued...