Game of Thrones Tales: The Ultimate Game:Book I-Back to the Throne Room

Part IV...

Game of Thrones Tales: Back to the Throne Room…

Summary: There's only one solution when Tyrion and Sansa have found the new King as mad as the Mad Targaryen and cynically evil, once on the throne, as Joffrey. So evil he's happily allowed the world to be invaded by unspeakably hideous creatures from some little planet out on the spiral rim of the Galaxy, to secure his reign of terror.

Part IV…

"Nothing like the real thing, trumpets and all that…" the Senator noted to Tyrion, as several guards sounded trumpets announcing the arrival of King Aegon and Queen Margaery…Preceeded first by several more knights in armor, then a herald…

Gods…Tyrion sighed…

I get that Aegon wants to make it clear he's still King here, but even Joffrey didn't put on this kind of a show for a relatively minor dinner.

The General leaning back, observing quietly…Unimpressed, Tyrion guessed by the panoply but rather interested in the knights and their potential skills. Stannis and his army had impressed him that much in the final battle.

He looked over to his own two bannermen, now seated, to Sansa's right…Ser Harys Swyft and the young son of the late Ser Leo Lefford, Leyd Lefford. Ser Harys having clear difficulty in maintaining his composure at the sight of the Dirter forces in occupation, despite the rather deferential attitude of the young Terran soldiers, most of whom were always eager to try and talk with the native knights. Ser Leyd, with the natural flexibility of the young, better able to deal with the aliens' almost touchingly naïve enthusiasm at the sight of real, active knights. Even a bit flattered that they should show such respect, given their near-Godlike technologies, though Ser Harys was stern in demanding the younger man, his subordinate in the Lannister guard, display a proper attitude of courteous aloofness toward the Occupiers. Ser Leyd now a bit more subdued, eager to make no mistake in his Lord's and his King's presence, but rather as fascinated in observing the Dirters as they were him…Several of the Dirter guards eyeing him in his armor as he sat, trying to maintain a solemn dignity while seated. A handsome boy, Tyrion noted…Better looking than his late father, long drowned in the War of the Five. He'd likely go far if the Occupiers stayed, he got on well with them while generally managing to please Ser Harys in his performance of his duties…Duties admittedly a bit more limited these days. Though at least, given the decline in the Lannister fortunes, there was still enough to do to on a daily basis to keep them reasonably well employed. And given that the Lannister fortunes had yet emerged in better shape than nearly all other great houses, they were in an enviable position, for men who knew little but the knightly arts.

Though Ser Leyd's charm of manner and youthful enthusiasm did conceal a brain…Perhaps not that of a Player of the Game, but one of great use to Tyrion, given Leyd's easy ability to ingratiate himself with the Dirters.

For when Winter did come…If by the Gods it would be as harsh and long as so often predicted…Men who could master the Dirters' arms, who'd learnt from the Dirters how they fought and therefore, how to fight them…Those men would be priceless.

He thought with an internal shudder, of the young Lieutenant's casual words… "We boiled the planet…" Gods…How does one begin to fight a people who can calmly boil a whole world of water? Sansa's slightest of taps bringing him back to attention just in time as the royal couple entered solemnly, arm-in-arm.

They did make a beautiful pair, Aegon and Margaery, the young royals…Aegon, his hair no longer dyed blue for concealment, his eyes just the start of purple in the lights of the room, in regal red and gold, his gold crown firmly on his head…Margaery as lovely as ever, in green and blue, fur-trimmed collar, erect…

How poor Tommen had wept the night he'd been told Margaery was to marry Aegon. It had never bothered him when Cersei told him, rather coldly, in the new Hand's presence, that he'd been deposed, thanks to his treacherous uncle and that uncle's pact with a devil…The Targaryen devil. That he would no longer sit on the Iron Throne, which he'd hated anyway…That he wasn't even to be allowed to be of royal descent…A mere minor member now, of the House of Lannister…A bastard. None of that bothered him…But hearing that Margaery, his dear Margaery, would not be marrying him…That had brought him to tears. Though, Margaery, kind as ever, had not failed to guess his sorrow and had quickly assured him she would be a good friend and protector to him, always…A sister. Even Cersei, finally broken in her pride, had been grateful…

Poor Cersei…He thought…As he rose with Sansa, the General, the Senator, and the others at table and the standing guards, of Westeros and Earth, snapped to even fuller attention. Her last desperate bid for power…For a glorious death, really…Had become her. And he liked to believe in those final months, she really had come to feel something for Stannis, that when they died together, in the Red Keep, defiant to the last...She'd died feeling something like love. He couldn't love or mourn her, not after all that had happened…But he could wish that for her, his strange, horribly twisted sister. That at the very end, she'd known just a brief moment of something like love.

"Your Majesty…" the General saluted Aegon, who accepted the salute graciously. Margaery standing by him, smiling at all with a warm smile that managed to be both gracious and sincere at the same time.

Oh, poor girl…Too clever for your own comfort…Tyrion thought. If only you were simply a beautiful fool. But you're not…And so, dear a creature as you are, you must suffer. And largely at my hands…It's true. Aegon would have married Danerys simply out of respect for Targaryen tradition if I'd not gotten the new Council to stand with me in opposing the match…For the greater good of the realm. I might have spared you the consequences of your ambition, but for that…The greater good. And all for nothing, one might say…Though two dragons united would simply have meant more deaths. And perhaps a more brutal occupation of the Free Cities than their current situation…With more than one reduced to ash like Pentos.

But if I am so largely to blame here, you too, oh Gods, are as well…Making that poor, vainly ambitious girl love this fellow, despite all her experience, her careful training at her grandmother's knee, her wisdom. That is unforgiveable, Gods... Knowing what I know now…What I've even kept from my dear Sansa…Till she, in her remarkable wisdom learnt it herself. That I have put another Mad King on the throne. A Mad King, charming and gracious, even brave…But mad with all the madness of the Targaryen line. And protected by fiends we couldn't have imagined in our worst nightmares.