Bronze, Fire and Ice (Part I)

POV: The Legitimate Queen

Barrow Hall.

About half an hour after a small player retired with his tail between his legs...

The first formal greetings and bows were performed appropriately enough.

Robert noisily embraced Lord Jorah Mormont, who futilely tried to maintain a semblance of composure.

The King dragged one of the alleged Heroes of the Siege of Pyke into the hallway of the Hall, almost disregarding receiving permission from the Lady of Barrowton first... Perhaps the harassment of that swine of a husband of hers could benefit her from time to time...

"Come on, Lord Jorah! Come have a cup of wine with me! It is your King's order! Ahahah!!" the man seemed reluctant for a moment, but after casting a little mortified glance at his bride and receiving a look of assent, he did as the King requested.

Ser Barristan and Ser Mandon followed in the King's ranting wake, bringing a slight bow to the Widow of Barrowton.

Ser Boros and Ser Meryn remained to guard the Queen. Jaime and Ser Preston were still in the carriage, intent on defending the wet nurse who looked after Myrcella and Joffrey...

Joffrey was too young to drink mead, and Myrcella was still an infant to be fed with mother's milk. The ancient laws of Northern hospitality would have been passed down indirectly to the princes when the womb or seed that gave birth to them was protected.

Cersei would not allow her children to set a single foot inside Barrow Hall until she, and not Robert, benefited from bread, salt and Mead...

There were two Kingsguards left in the Hall, The Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and an old Northern harlot who changed husbands as if they were dirty linen...

A whore-owner of a dirty brothel called Barrowton, whom she would soon sell out to her future husband, losing the last bit of power she had left.

According to Varys, many individuals in Westeros and Essos were beginning to attach another moniker to her; after the last one as an old maid widow, they had given her... 'The Frosty Spice Queen.'

Cersei should have cut the tongue out of every dirty unpunished wild sheep in the North who had dared to bleat the word 'Queen' except to refer to the continent's only true Lioness.

'You are an old sheep dealing salt in a grave, my dear. And I the Lioness of King's Landing.' Thought the woman that was four years younger than the latter.

Cersei's prejudiced animosity toward Lady Barbrey Ryswell-Dustin-And-Soon-Mormont was not so much because of that moniker-even old Granny Tyrell was still referred to as 'The Queen of Thorns'-but so much because of the display of pageantry and influence the Whore of the North had over all of Westeros!

Not even at her royal wedding was there such an attendance! Outside the walls were hundreds of banners and pavilions, endless pageantry and merriment...

Cersei had to bring any possible threat to her rule into line for the sake of her children... So she would roar and show the sheep of the North who was the True Ruler Here.

But first, she would have let the Crone's guard down with 'due etiquette talk'...

*****

About five minutes later...

"A beautiful city, Lady Barbrey. Your people are so alive, full of joy and festivity... Truly a pleasant welcome." Pricked Cersei in the first place.

"You honour me and my city, Your Majesty. I am not worthy of such a compliment." So replied the Whore, performing what savages ten thousand years ago would perhaps once have called a 'bow.

"Of course, I must admit my slight disappointment at not having enjoyed your presence at the gates of the City, as any good loyal servant of the Kingdom would customarily show to the King, Queen and Royal family..." The first natural lash was thrown.

"Ah... My Queen, I... I did not think that this might have given offence to the 'King' "

'You have given offence to me!!!' roared the Queen inwardly but still maintaining the same smiling expression.

"My groom and I felt this was the correct way to welcome, Your Majesties. I had asked Maester Ellyn to dust off all the historical records of Barrowton, and he had assured me that all previous Kings and Queens, who had honoured the House of Dustin with a visit in the past, had been welcomed to the town in the same way.

A folk parade at the gates and a formal welcome at Barrow Hall...

King Aegon I, Jaehaerys I, Queen Alysanne, and Daeron II seemed to appreciate the ceremony. Before the Dustin name perished, I wished to give lustre to the name of the descendants of the First Tomb Kings by honouring tradition. Have I committed an unfortunate lapse in judgment, your majesty?" The old sheep dared to roar back, and for a moment, the Lioness did not know how to retort to the provocation--but only for a moment.

"No... not at all. It was an honour for the royal family to uphold the tradition of the ancient and 'dying' House of Dustin by lending lustre to its name for one last time, my Lady...

So sad the fate of these noble and ancient lineages. First House Tarbeck, then-House Rayne, House Targaryen, and now Dustin... I will pray to the Seven that the new and promising House of Mormont may ever prosper for the next thousand years here in the Barrowlands." Cersei.

"Too kind, Your Grace. Although here in the North, the deities we worship are slightly older and different from the Seven, I would certainly never refuse a blessing from the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." It sounded more like an insult than a compliment, but more importantly, the old hen did not seem to react in the slightest to her implied threat

"Come to think of it, there is one point that has left me puzzled and somewhat displeased at the entrance of the remarkable Barrowton..." However, Cersei kept her tone and expression cordial.

"Really, Your Grace?... My duty and honour would be to help her majesty clear up any displeasure. Please..." Bleated the sheep stuffed with wool.

"Well, the honourable Knights of the royal escort, Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch, were not bestowed permission to pass through the gates of your city, Lady Barbrey... I wondered why such an insult to the valiant men who loyally served my father and family for so many years? I thought the Dustins and Mormonts were friends and allies of the Lannisters." Cersei asked with polite effrontery.

"House Lannister is a good friend and ally of the entire North, my Queen, but...I fear that statement cannot extend to Ser Gregor and Ser Amory...

Too many unfortunate and disturbing events plague the areas that 'coincidentally' those worthy and brave Knights anointed by the Seven traverses.

A poor tavern maid raped and battered in Salt Pans less than a moon is the most recent example. According to eyewitnesses, Ser Gregor and his men, unfortunate for their good name, were the only customers on that tragic evening...

Many villages and small towns have suffered similar and even more unfortunate fates in the lands of Rivers, The Reach and The Crown in the last...well, ten years, I would say. And all these events coincided with the unfortunate passing of your two worthy Knights, my Queen.

You will forgive me if, as the patroness of peaceful Barrowton, I wish that other 'coincidences' do not stain their good name."

"Coincidences and misfortunes indeed... You are an intelligent, well-educated woman with much experience on your shoulders..." an elegant way of saying 'Old Woman.'

The Lady's armour seemed to have been partly nicked by what Cersei's watchful eye could see. That was her weakness...

"I am confident that a woman of experience such as yourself will not give credence to such unfounded rumours that would go to discredit the Temple of Baelor and The High Septon himself. The one who personally anointed Ser Gregor Clegane.

My father would be-" The Old Whore dared to interrupt her!

"Truly, my Queen, just last afternoon, I sought permission from Lord Tywin Lannister, the Protector of the West himself.

When he and his son and Heir, 'Lord Tyrion Lannister,' the Shield and Protector of Lannisport, crossed the threshold of this hall, willingly accepting the hospitality of Barrow Hall, I expressed to them my concerns. Your beloved brother, Lord Tyrion, was kind enough to suggest the idea of binding Ser Gregor and Ser Amory in the hall areas, and your father welcomed his 'Heir's' suggestion." Cersei felt the urge to hurl Ser Meryn and Ser Boros at the Old Witch, having her flogged and tearing her beautiful, very expensive woollen dress with her rod.

The Queen's nails scratched perceptibly at her palms.

It was really hard for her to hold back all those murderous impulses while keeping the same expression... but she could not remain silent. Every second that passed without a worthy response was an open slap to her image!

"Well, indeed, my father and my loving brother could not yet have been aware of my concerns about the safety of Prince Joffrey and Princess Myrcella.

Ser Gregor and Ser Amory helped immensely to dispel such disturbing concerns from Harrenhall to Barrowton. But, just the thought of the recent disagreements between Myr and House Mormont, the brutal, barbaric attacks of the Wildlings in the lands of the New Gift, alleged vengeful incursions of rebellious Ironmen into the shores of House Ryswell, and not to mention the five hundred Dornish traitors present at these celebrations...my and the Princes' sleep will be more peaceful if the sworn swords of House Lannister can watch over us." Cersei sensed an indignant snort from Ser Meryn Trant. Her Knight, too, was tired of the bitch's brazen gaze.

"Ah! Your Majesty, I... I did not know... I could not imagine..." victory seemed within reach. "Who, Majesty? What celebrated Sword of the Royal Guard fell on the way?!" Again, Cersei's eyes widened; this time, the fake smile withered...

"Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Mandon Moore were with the King...Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blunt are right in front of me...Then who? The valiant Ser Preston Greenfield! Ser Wyatt Estermont, perhaps? No!... Please, Your Majesty! Don't tell me that Ser Ja-"

"My brother is alive and well!!!" Cersei completely fell for the provocation by roaring a hysterical shriek. The Queen immediately realized the foul and instantly recomposed herself. "I meant... None of the valiant White Swords has fallen, my lady."

'Unless Ser Wyatt's protruding swollen goitre has already crushed him during this talk...' thought the Queen as she recalled the precarious health of Robert's second cousin.

"Ah, what a relief! Phew... Phew... Forgive me, Your Grace, but the way you had stated the matter, my anxiety could not help but take over reason.

I thought... I mistakenly believed that a tragedy might have occurred and that Ser Gregor and Ser Amory had already been able to replace the brethren who had fallen in service to safeguard the Royal Family."

"Misunderstandings that can happen, Lady Barbrey." Cersei.

"After all, the 'Seven White Swords' are tasked with protecting the Royal Family. Am I wrong, Your Grace?" Cersei promised herself that one day, not far from now, she would have that Old Whore of the North raped and trampled by Ser Gregor, Ser Amory, and all the men and horses of the Casterly Rock garrison if that were not enough... but not today.

"The Seven White Hats have that honour, my lady, it is true ... But, 'Nine Swords' protect better than Seven." It was the only sensible thing Cersei could extrapolate at that moment.

"I can do nothing but bow to your majesty's wisdom." Replied the bitch in a subtly annoyingly ironic tone!

"That's enough, my lady! You dare mock our White Order and her majesty the Queen in front of the Royal Guard?!" Intimated Ser Meryn, taking a long step forward with his hand gripped on the hilt of the sword not yet drawn.

'What are you doing, you piece of idiot! Roared Cersei inwardly, attempting to admonish the Knight with her gaze. The fool even dared to take another step, intimating:

"Her Majesty has given you an order." No, she had not yet done so. "She commands you to open the city gates to Ser Gregor and Ser Amory! To disobey is Treason!" Said the imbecile.

The two Dustin guards behind Lady Barbrey had not yet moved an inch, but a dozen shadows promptly slipped from the columns of the entrance hall. Ten pairs of experienced hands were ready to intervene at the slightest nod of command. Not even if Jaime and the Royal escort had arrived in time to join the fray would Ser Meryn and Ser Boros have made it out alive...

"Forgive me, Ser, yours was just an unintentionally impulsive gesture or-" The idiot had not even noticed the ten new blades in the shadows ready to pounce like panthers at any moment!

"Ser Me-" Cersei's attempt was in vain... the events unfolded too quickly.

Only after he had snuffed the steel did the imbecile realize the fatal mistake!

"Drop it, 'Ser,' and don't move a muscle..." Intimated one of ten blades well-aimed at each of the Knight's exposed vital points. The voice was guttural but also strangely sweet.

It took only a handful of seconds to force Ser Meryn to drop the sword and kneel. But, unfortunately, Ser Boros had already released his grip on the hilt handle...

"Well, Ser... According to the laws still in force of King Jaehaeris I, threatening a poor Lady under her desco, without a charge of High Treason and without a man in defence of her honour, is an offence punishable by death even for a 'Brave' Royal Guard ready to harm an unarmed woman..." Ser Meryn was paralyzed on the spot, looking around. His 'fearless' confrere Ser Boros seemed to show more discernment than the latter by remaining as still as a man of pairs.

Cersei, for a moment, did not understand what Barbrey meant by 'without a man to defend her honour.' But then she understood... as absurd as it was, those twelve monstrosities of muscle, leather and steel that surrounded them were all women!!! Armed women instead of Men! The Law was her favour! And if Cersei remembered correctly, there was another barbaric custom of the First Men here in the North that gave her support...but it just didn't come to mind at the time.

What was certain was that she, Ser Boros, nor even Ser Meryn had yet enjoyed the bread, salt, and mead of Barrow Hall.

In the eyes of the laws of gods and men, none of them still benefited from the protection of guests. To unleash steel against a nobleman under his table, without a firmly valid reason, was an act that could have started a war!

The Widow of Barrowton stepped forward with a disturbing smile on her face.

"You have broken what we descendants of the First Men call the 'Law of Blood and Iron,' Ser Meryn.

It is customary here in the ancient traditional Barrowlands that the transgressor of that Law pays the 'Price of Blood' with eyes, nose, teeth and tongue, which will be removed with Bronze, Fire and Ice... And that in pursuit, after you have returned to the state with which the womb nourished you, you be buried alive, and well bound, together with earth, water, and Weirdwood Tree seeds; so that the Old Gods may welcome you back into the womb of the world by feeding on your sins and giving light to a new life more deserving to avail of the fruits of the earth. Fear not, Ser, of water to quench your thirst, there will be no shortage, and the white roots will dig into your skin, killing you before hunger or ... 'madness' consumes you."

Even Cersei's stomach turned at the thought of such an atrocity.

In Casterly Rock, such an act would be punished by locking the criminal up in the most cramped of cells in the rock for an entire season, but, in her heart, Cersei was undecided as to which option to choose...

"Of course, Ser… you would be entitled to a fair trial should the Queen wish to defend you by testifying on your behalf.

Is it your wish to deny the crime, my Queen?" The trembling hot-headed fool turned his gaze toward her with frightened, pleading eyes.

If the man could have spoken, he would surely have cried out, "Help me, my Queen! I am your faithful servant!!! I did it for you!!! I only wanted to defend your honour!!!"

This Law Cersei knew well instead. It was the work of that dastardly Jaehaerys I, Daeron II, or III for as long as she could remember.

[A Kingsguard cannot avail himself of due process if there was no member of the royal family or the Lord Commander of the White Swords as his guarantor advocate.]

Cersei had memorized all the quibbles of the stupid rules of the Kingsguard when her twin brother Jaime joined it. Rules were designed primarily to make the best use of her swords in times of need and to better conceal their forbidden tryst...

But Cersei was no idiot...

Who knows what Ser Boros might have said or not said if his Lord Commander or Robert himself had put him under the knife.

It was her words and Ser Meryn's, against that of thirteen and a half witnesses and thousands of noble ears and genuinely willing to lick the Wealthy Salt Whore's ass to hear them!

"I'm sorry, Ser Meryn, but your unforgivable act was perpetrated right in front of me... As Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the witness of the New and Old Gods, and Mother Protector of all her subjects, I cannot intercede on your behalf...

'Fairness' and 'Justice' are, and always will be, two of the supporting pillars of the Crown." It was an explicit death sentence unless a divine thunderbolt had struck Robert and gifted him with the prescience to instantly seal a Royal counter-edict.

Yes... Ser Meryn was definitely screwed, and his look of despair testified that he was aware of it too.

"But there is still time to offer an apology, Ser-the Iron has been unsheathed, but the Blood has not been shed. So you would still have a chance to escape the 'Price of Blood' and have your life saved. So choose wisely, Knight." The Widow's icy, calm tone gave the Lioness of Casterly Rock goosebumps.

"Ser Meryn!!! Apologize immediately to Lady Barbrey Dustin! And admit your guilt!!!" So roared the Lioness in an attempt to stem the damage.

"I invoke the forgiveness of my lady!!! Mercy, my lady! Mercy! I admit my faults! I humbly beg your pardon! I am your humble and penitent servant!!! I invoke the mercy of the Lady of Barrowton!!!" The word 'Merciful' was not enough to describe that scene. Meryn crawled, crawling like a worm at the feet of the Lady of Barrowton, invoking every synonym of the word 'mercy'.

A faint lick of shifty fart came from a chilled and motionless Ser Boros at her side and a more acrid and pungent whit of urine from Ser Meryn.

"Oh, come on. Rise, Ser Meryn... Your sincere apologies have been accepted. The Blood Price will not be claimed. You have my forgiveness and my word as Noblewoman of the North." Lady Barbrey glanced at one of her shield-women, who promptly welcomed the silent message and walked briskly down the dark corridor of the manor.

"Thank you, my lady! Thank you!" Sobbed Meryn as he crawled contritely back behind his regal shield.

"My queen..." The Lioness' hair stood up at the call of the Witch's icy voice. But Cersei faced the enemy head-on like a true Queen of the Jungle!

"Yes, Lady Barbrey?" demanded the Lioness straight, proud, and ready to pull out jaws and claws in the next fight.

The Northern Whore might have pulled out tricks formed by some barbaric rule forgotten by the Gods, but such intimidating ploys could not scratch Lion's hide!

"If it is Your Grace's will to avail itself of two prouder and ... mmm ... 'tenacious' knights during the Royal Family's stay in the Barrowlands, then surely Barrow Hall will not deny such a request. Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch will benefit from our hospitality."

"It is your grace's will. Thank you, my lady." The Queen replied politely, roaring inwardly, 'Victory!'

********

End Part I

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