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Raiden's Storm Chapter 25: The Executioner
🕑 Added 2024-01-18 23:45:51 +0000 UTCI was in a very dreamy mood, apparently.
“With the first pick in the 2015 NBA draft, the Los Angeles Lakers select… Arthur Astley!”
I put on the hat, hugged my parents and went up there to shake Adam Silver’s hand. He was a midget compared to me… which meant that I was inhumanely tall because that man is not short.
I was hooping in my rookie year to the point that Skip Bayless started hating on me (a true sign of greatness). The lights of LA were bright, but I didn't shy away at all. I thrived in it. I practised relentlessly, being tutored by Kobe Bryant, who was playing his last season.
It really was a dream… because I carried that trash-ass roster (respectfully) to a championship by putting up Wilt numbers. Being a superstar in LA led to me being surrounded by women like a bloody magnet. I had an overage of 3 side chicks in each state with an NBA team.
Yeah… I was a whole fiend. Not that I had any control over what I was dreaming about, but god damn. I was going for all of Wilt’s records and achievements, apparently. Even the 20,000 women one.
That changed when I met Raiden Shogun while going out shopping. That girl was buying cooking ingredients as if she had any kind of ability in that department… at least, I could easily afford a chef (I wasn't all that good at cooking either).
We hit it off immediately and started dating. I abandoned my ‘roster’ of women shortly after, putting a ring on her finger. Some of them happened to disappear and the number of thunderstorms drastically increased (no correlation at all, surely).
It didn't take all that long for us to get married.
She looked absolutely stunning in her white wedding dress, which cost a fortune. We made our vows and kissed, proceeding to celebrate the day. When night came…
“I shall stand by your side…” She grabbed my face and pressed her lips against mine. “For all of eternity.”
“I don't think I'm living that long,” I remarked, smiling slightly.
“Then… eternity shall die with you.”
Her sweet smile was the last thing I saw before waking up.
…
Eternity shall die with me…
I looked at Raiden, who hadn't moved her eyes away from me.
“You slept well.” She remarked.
“Yeah…”
I shook my dizzy head. Getting into drinking competitions with northerners wasn't exactly the best idea. At least, I hadn't done anything too embarrassing… from what I can recall.
“Did you have any dreams?”
“A long, sweet dream.” I nodded, tilting my head. “Why do you ask?”
“I had a dream as well… for what seems to be the first time.” She remarked, her lips curling into a slight smile.
“What did you dream about for you to be in such a good mood?”
“I was going to ask you that.” She replied.
“Well, I asked first.” I chuckled.
“As your Shogun, you should answer my question first.”
“That's just cheating.” I chuckled. “Can't you answer me? It's only a dream.”
“I dreamt of being alive.” She kept her smile even though her beautiful purple eyes glistened with weary sorrow. “Of… being human.”
“I see… my dream wasn't all that different, then.” I nodded. “In my dream, I had everything I ever wanted… except a hundred girlfriends. That was a bit much. There was enough drama for ten seasons of a TV show.”
“I'm sure that problem sorted itself out.” Raiden gave me a look like she knew something I didn't.
That made me think… did we share the same dream?
“Nine or ten got struck by lightning, coincidentally,” I added.
“Indeed, it sounds like quite the coincidence.”
She acted clueless. It was not often that the Raiden Shogun joked with me… she didn't really have a good sense of humour in the past.
“Should I be worried for the ladies in court?”
“Why should you be?” She tilted her head slightly. “Even if I hadn't given you all of my power… the act would be of no benefit to you. Such a move would only bring suspicion and hostility among your subjects.”
“... I see.” I nodded. “Indeed, there would be no benefit. Besides, I can handle myself. I know what is important and what isn't. I am aware of the duties that I have to fulfil to give myself the best chance of victory.”
“It seems that you’ve truly accepted the mantle of King.”
“... More or less. It grants me the power to accomplish my goals.”
Though I would’ve liked to continue, my stomach began to churn suddenly, and my body shook as if I were dumped into the frozen wastes of Antarctica. I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed. I was on the verge of vomiting whatever I had eaten up several times… but I never quite got there.
Honestly, it was more frustrating that I hadn’t let it out like an elusive sneeze.
There was the possibility that some schemer poisoned me, of course… but it was more likely that I just had far too much alcohol.
“I’m… never… drinking again… not with those bastards.” I shook my head. “Never again.”
“Your Grace, are you unwell?” I heard Ser Arys Oakheart ask from behind the door. “Should I call a maester?”
“Just… recovering from last night.” I chuckled. “I’ll be out soon.”
…
Outside, Ser Barristan, Ser Arys and Ser Balon all had been standing guard. I walked out and observed my surroundings.
“Anything… happened while I was asleep?” I questioned, turning to Ser Barristan.
“The Master of Whispers and Coin have both been named traitors under the Hand’s command.”
“...” I blinked, taking a moment to process that. “Varys and Littlefinger… were they detained? When was this declared?”
“The orders were given at the break of dawn.” Ser Barristan replied. “Unfortunately, Petyr Baelish had escaped beforehand while Varys showed no resistance.”
‘Slippery snake… I suppose he predicted Stannis’ animosity and distrust, leaving while he still had the chance.’
I had wished to learn a thing or two from Littlefinger, gain his trust and then ultimately send him off with a storm ‘accident’ of sorts… but this works.
“... Why was I not informed until now?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You were fast asleep, Your Grace. I did not wish to wake you early.”
“I should be awake for times like these… I can always sleep more later.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Though, it is my fault for drinking a bit much. Usually, I’m an early riser.”
“Should an event like this occur once more, I will wake you.” Ser Barristan nodded. “However, I did not think it was necessary. Youthful as you are… the matter of ruling the Realm is shared between your uncles, the Lord Hand and Regent.”
“Even so, this is the Realm that I will one day rule… without a Regent. I should have sway over the decisions that determine its future.” I countered. “I was able to lead a military campaign, wasn’t I?”
“That is a fair point.”
After that, I led the way to the main hall where Renly and Stannis stood beneath the Iron Throne… having a debate of sorts. The rest of the hall was packed with courters and there was a greater number of guards than usual, too. Mainly household guards from the Stormlands houses.
“Older brother, you cannot simply declare two members of the Small Council traitors and command their arrest without consulting me… the Lord Regent.” Renly placed his palm on his chest, shaking his head.
“Do you disagree with my decision?” Stannis questioned. “Our brother allowed these serpents to prosper and scheme, drive his Kingdom into debt and spread corruption. As the Hand of the King, I saw it as my duty to remove the rot in this court.”
“Am I disturbing something?” I questioned, stepping forward.
“Ah, nephew. I trust that you slept well.” Renly smiled slightly.
“Yeah… a bit too well.” I nodded, turning to Stannis. “From what I can gather, Varys has been detained, and Littlefinger ran away?”
“Indeed.”
“... Isn’t him running away proof enough that Stannis had been right?” I questioned, stroking my chin. “If he had nothing to hide, he wouldn’t have disappeared.”
“In truth, I do not disagree with the decisions… I would have liked to have been informed of this decision beforehand, however.”
Suddenly, the doors burst open as Dorian came in ever so casually. He had a rope around his left hand… dragging along Littlefinger. His hands and legs were tied. Even his tongue had been sealed.
“Looking for Littlefinger, my lords?” Dorian grinned slightly, tossing Petyr forward onto the ground.
“I happened to find him first.”
‘This guy…’ I smiled. ‘He’s really something else. I need to give him a pay rise one of these days. Maybe a lordship…’
Stannis nodded. “We can put both of them on trial at once.”
~
Before the trial went through, I wanted to speak with Varys. He had been thrown into the black cells, the darkest of all the floors. There were no windows or beds or even a bucket to shit in. It was by far the worst floor of the Red Keep’s dungeons. A fitting place for the worst of criminals.
Even though I had no desire to spare Littlefinger due to his obvious desire to cause chaos and ultimately rule… Varys was another matter entirely. We had somewhat similar goals, from what I could infer. If I could gain his trust, then there would be no man more fitting to be my Master of Whispers in the Seven Kingdoms. His web of secrets is one of a kind, after all.
I approached him alone with a torch, lighting the black cells.
“Your Grace.” Varys looked up at me, remaining seated. “To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting the young King before my untimely execution?”
“Your execution?” I questioned. “Your judgment has yet to be passed.”
“It is no secret that Lord Stannis has little taste for whispers.”
“Yet Stannis is not King.” I countered. “Neither is Renly.”
“You are a most curious boy.” Varys raised an eyebrow. “Why would you choose to spare me?”
“Unlike Stannis, I value your skills and do not see you as an enemy. Rather, I see you as a common ally.”
“Oh?”
“I have reason to believe that you still hold House Targaryen in high regard…” I began to explain. “After all, it was the late King Aerys, the second of His Name, who raised you from a eunuch in Essos to the Small Council.”
Varys nodded.
“In which case… one of the goals of my reign is to undo the wedge that my late father created.” I lied - partially. The truth was that Dany would have dragons, and I needed those majestic flying flamethrowers on my side. “I seek the return of House Targaryen and the complete unification of the Realm. The Targaryen Kings, both the mad and great ones, forged it… and so, I firmly believe that they should be allowed to call it home.”
“Should there be a more fitting King or Queen than I in their ranks… I’d be more than willing to pass on my crown to them and roam free as Edric Storm. I wouldn’t be opposed to marriage, either.”
Varys’ eyes lit up.
I was saying exactly what he wanted to hear… though, since I once genuinely held these sentiments, lying about it was almost too easy. I didn’t know all that much about “fake” Aegon, but it wasn’t all that difficult to assume that Varys supported him.
“In which case… wouldn’t you be the most fitting Master of Whispers in my Small Council?”
“You are a strange boy,” Varys remarked, blinking. “You act as if you know little, yet you seem to know far more than most. Your youth is a most powerful weapon that leads to others lowering their guard against you… a grave mistake, the late queen would agree.”
“It’s good to be so young.” I smiled slightly.
“... Even I admit that I have underestimated you.” Varys tilted his head. “Should I live… I will faithfully serve as your Master of Whispers.”
No doubt, ‘faithfully’ had a number of conditions under it. Even so, I chose to trust him. Perhaps my diplomat perk would turn him over to my side, ultimately…
Now I just had to overturn the decisions of the two uncles I promoted.
~
I spent quite some time convincing Stannis and Renly of Varys’ purpose. My main points were that Varys served Robert faithfully, has unmatched abilities in his field, and would no doubt be supremely useful in my future reign. I was yapping quite a bit… but ultimately, my diplomat skills paid off, and Varys was cleared of his ‘crimes’.
As for Littlefinger… I didn’t speak on his behalf. Sure, he was good at making money - but he wouldn’t be making it for me or the Realm. I’d much rather recruit a top-tier merchant or banker from Essos than deal with his schemes.
The only problem would be Lysa Arryn and her reaction… which is why I would have preferred an ‘accident’ rather than him being apprehended and executed.
Littlefinger was put on trial for corruption, siphoning funds from the royal treasury, espionage and treason… all of which he was confirmed of. The trial was very much skewed against him, but no one really supported Littlefinger.
Ultimately, he was placed on the block.
I chose to be the executioner… something that Robb Stark and the other northern lords approved of.
…
Petyr Baelish was placed down on a raised block, right on top of the stairs of the Red Keep. It was particularly windy today as a grey veil of ominous clouds covered the sky. Edric’s hair blew wildly as he readied his warhammer. Along the stairs was a huge crowd of smallfolk while behind him, all the highborns gathered.
All six of his Kingsguard encircled him, keeping the perimeter secure.
Edric lowered himself to Petyr.
“Chaos is a ladder, isn’t it?”
Edric whispered, grinning slightly as he observed Littlefinger’s eyes widen. His mouth, along with most of his body, had remained restrained, so all he could do was struggle.
His eyes flashed purple as he raised himself back up and grasped Robert’s… his warhammer.
“For treason, espionage, corruption and the other various crimes that you have committed against the crown…”
Edric raised his warhammer.
“I sentence you, Petyr Baelish… to death!”
Smash.
All it took was one mighty swing, and poor Littlefinger’s head cracked open… all his schemes dying with him.
Edric watched his blood drip down, recalling Tywin’s execution.
There was the slightest of grins on his face as he removed his bloodied warhammer.
‘Another player falls…’
