Kingmaker

I cared for others now that I had to no longer worry about myself each moment. An oddly selfish thing, or that was what the human mind would make of it.

I just accepted the truth the moment it dawned on me rather than skirt around it and try to stubbornly deny it for no reason. It wasn't as though it went against my being. If anything, it shed light on the core principle I'd adhered to most of my life.

Being just.

It still felt very good to say it aloud.

Though, Varys seemed lost in some deep thought from my proclamation so I took that time to partake in the glorious feast he'd prepared me. Dare I say, it was the best food I'd had ever since I'd entered this world.

Oddly enough though, my mind wandered back to a simple meal of brown bread and lamb I'd shared with a farmer and his family during my stay in the Riverlands. It had been in a rundown house, with a plank table eaten away by termites, but it felt much better... brought an alien peace.

I was busy stacking empty plates and trays in order of their size when Varys spoke up again. "Then, do you intend to rule? Guide us?"

"Marika, no," I laughed at the suggestion. "Trust me, you don't want anything like me ruling you. Marika's the only example I need to decide I'm never doing anything like a God-Ruler or whatever."

Contrary to what most thought, Marika hadn't started out as a vindictive bitch.

She was nice and accommodating.

That changed when the Hornsent made mincemeat of everyone she knew for the nature of their existence. After that, it was age and knowledge that saw her tread down a path of no return.

A path I could never follow her along.

Or perhaps, somewhere deep down, she had always been that way. Sick acts like hers didn't appear out of thin air.

"...Marika?" Varys questioned. He rose to his feet, stumbled a few steps back, and plopped down on the soft mattress of his stone bed. "Who-..."

"Yep. Marika," I put a hand to my chin. "Not just her. All those Empyreans were messed up. Miquella destroyed minds. Ranni had her own half-brother murdered as part of some scheme. Hell, not even Empyreans. That whole family was all sorts of weird."

I could see from the doubt and confusion etched on his features that he understood none of the words coming out of my mouth but it didn't really matter.

"Whatcha thinking?" I prodded curiously after a few moments, crossing one leg over the other.

He rubbed his hands together. "And you see a good King in Robb Stark, my lord?"

Robb was... Robb was many things but a capable King for a whole continent he was not.

"Nope." I answered without hesitation. "The kid's a bit too soft and a bit too rigid. Not that that's a bad thing but it stops him from being actually fair."

In my eyes, the ideal king of men wasn't one who cared about his people more than anything, or one who toiled endlessly, no, none of that boorish stuff.

"You treat people too well, it'll work for a bit but then they'll try to take advantage of you or outright betray you." I scratched my chin. "You treat people like shit, they'll be afraid of you, gather under someone else, and ultimately betray you there too."

Humans were odd like that. Too emotional. Too quick to think they understood.

Varys lowered his head, huffing cold air. "A basic understanding lost on most of the lords and ladies I am afraid. They behave as though they too are not men."

"What can you do, man?" I shrugged my hands. "Give any species a sense of authority over their own they forget they're stil-... Meh."

I cou-... would not become a ruler, and was content to be a wanderer that occasionally intervened as the need arose. The other option, was to give them a good King to believe. The latter I could accomplish. I would accomplish.

It was the decision I'd made after spending the journey with the thought at the back of my mind.

"Then. Stannis Baratheon?"

"From what I've heard, he seems to be the best option. Renly's just an angsty teen with a big head."

"Lord Renly died not long ago. Assassinated by Stannis as circumstance would have it." Varys rose to his feet.

"Oh well. Rest in peace I guess."

That was how war was. He accepted that he could lose his life at any moment the second he declared it.

He quietly walked over to the door and opened it, beckoning for me to follow. Curious, I slung my trophy grey longsword over my shoulder and complied.

The corridors of the Red Keep seemed emptier than I'd remembered them, and paintings and murals watched over us as we made our way through them. Eventually, we came out onto a balcony, one much larger than the one attached to his room.

Varys floated over to a wooden chair placed in view of the setting Sun beyond, turned around, and offered it to me with his hands before turning around again and pointing to the horizon.

"Do you see, my lord? There. Beyond the bay."

I cocked my head, walking over to him as I followed his gaze. The first thing I noticed was the way cliffsides jutted out from either side of the horizon, cradling the bay and forming a natural chokepoint. 

"A good place for a naval blockade." I murmured. My own attention was more drawn to the way the sunlight reflected off the calm sea, giving it a verdant shade that stood out against the red sky. "The view's good, but not good enough to tolerate this smell."

"King Robert often spoke of it as well." Varys offered, bowing his head. "Do you see the ships?"

I wondered how he saw them, since they were too far to make out for the human eye, then quickly realised the truth.

He didn't.

"Monford Velaryon, Lord of Driftmark, has declared allegiance to Lord Stannis. The Velaryon Fleet, joined by Salladhor Saan, self-styled Prince of the Narrow Sea, have blockaded the bay from Sharp Point to Rook's Rest." He reported, calm as the sea beyond us.

According to my map, Rook's Rest lied along the seaside and Sharp Point another city, but across the water from the former, with the island of Driftmark roughly between them.

"It was a sound tactic."

"Was?" I raised a brow.

"The Tyrells have declared allegiance to King Joffrey, my lord."

Ah.

The whole point of the blockade went up in smoke then, considering the Reach had more supplies than it knew what to do with, and enough men to simply throw bodies at a problem till it was nothing more than a passing thought.

That would change if I became one of those problems.

I didn't question the fact that they'd fought each other not a week ago. Medieval alliances were often queer enough to leave one scratching their head at the 'how' of it all.

No, I could put two and two together.

"Marriage pact?"

Varys nodded his head.

"Humans and their ambitions." I sighed. Then smiled and turned to stare at him with amused eyes, "Wanna talk about what's been on your mind for the past few minutes?"

He did a good job at hiding his thoughts, better than even Petyr, to the point I was certain no man would be able to tell what he was thinking about.

Varys' eyes widened in slight disbelief but a resigned smile crossed his lips not a moment later. "It was a futile effort, I see. Well, this is quite refreshing."

"I'm sure. So, out with it. I'm getting curious here."

"There is..." He hesitated again but resolved himself. "There is another prospect to consider. It has to do with the surviving Targaryens."

I stared at the bald man flatly and pointed a finger at the sea. "Lemme guess. They escaped past the sea to build up their strength until the time to come back."

It wasn't even a matter of wisdom. No, there was a glaring number of similarities between this world and the one I had called home for as long as I had lived.

"...How?"

"It's what Lord Godfrey and his Tarnished did." I put my hand to my face. "When Grace left him after the crusade ended."

They'd left to the Badlands, where they'd waged endless war and died from it but at the same time, grown that much stronger by doing so. Then, when Grace returned and gave them life again, they crossed the sea back, to wage war for Marika like they'd done so long ago, with their Lord beside them.

Of course there were those that never died after a certain point, like myself.

"But I'm getting sentimental." I sighed. Some part of me hoped to meet them again. Though I knew we'd come to deathly blows if ever we did. "Why are the Targaryens the better option? I don't know much but even I know they were all messed up in the head like... damn. The similarities are uncanny."

I wasn't one to deny that all people were unique. But, after a certain point, one would have to be incredibly foolish to not see the obvious signs.

Viserys thought for a moment. "They are young. Not twenty years of age. But they are the rightful rulers."

"You care more about being rightful than someone who's actually good for the people?" I finally turned to him, hands behind my back.

"No. Of course, no-"

"Then it seems you've deluded yourself into thinking they're a good choice. Think again about what you actually want."

As it stood, Stannis was the only feasible option. But, it was subject to change since I had never actually met the man.

"Stannis Baratheon is too rigid a man." Varys said grimly. "The realm will go to war if he becomes King."

I narrowed my eyes and reached into my coat to retrieve Robb's letter. I flipped it in my hands, flashing him the direwolf seal of House Stark. "This letter here declares the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands to Stannis. With how much Dorne hates the Lannisters, who do you think they'll join once this becomes public?"

"But," He seemed somewhat lost.

"Remember that basic principle we talked about a bit back. About cruelty and kindness?"

Varys nodded grimly.

"You wanna know the sort of King men die for?" He gave no answer but I continued all the same. "It's a King who's fair. Not kind. Not cruel. Just fair to everybody. One who punishes and rewards where needed warranted without prejudice. That's the sort of person I'll help. The only kind of person I'll help."

Dragonlord Placidusax failed by elevating his own kind and reducing others to an afterthought or outright slaves.

Marika failed by being unnecessarily cruel.

Radagon failed by being unnecessarily rigid.

Rykard failed by disregarding all.

Miquella failed for 'loving' too much.

Radahn died, but as a ruler, he never failed. He respected strength and willingness impartially. Punished wrong, and was fair. In his name, his men fought long after he lost his mind and became a mad beast, they were still fighting his foes last I saw them.

That was the loyalty he had evoked by being fair.

And he idolised Lord Godfrey more than anyone else, even adopting a lion-like fashion to that end. He learnt to be fair by following in Godfrey's footsteps and growing as a person for it.

"Very well then." Varys bowed his head, pushing his hands together as his lips quivered and his form trembled. "King Stannis Baratheon holds council at Storm's End. I wish you good fortune. Though I do doubt you would need it."

I grinned.

"Nah, get me a room for the night. I need to visit a few friends in King's Landing."

-

Hope you enjoyed.

Comment your thoughts and suggestions for the story, really.

This dialogue between him and Varys honestly got a bit too long but I feel it was necessary. Maybe I'm just sleepy. The next chapter will probably be vastly different.