121 AC
The Tourney of Casterly Rock, a day after the brutal display in the melee
Lord Serret thought he understood rats. They gnaw at everything and scurry away. They bring disease and multiply endlessly. Now in his box were missives and letters from every godforsaken lord asking him if he would "deign" to visit their lands. The fuckers had no shame. Lord Serret knew this was coming, but he didn't expect the sheer amount of kiss arsing behaviour some lords would do, and better yet, how fast they did it. One letter wrote:
"Dear Lord Serret,
I, Lord Tarbeck, formally invite you to my third son's wedding. I hear you like to enjoy a good horse ride. Bring your men, especially the Bloody Fowl.
I hope you don't make me wait too long for an answer. My soon to be good daughter is a rather impatient person.
Sweet regards,Lord Adrian Tarbeck"
The sheer audacity. Lord Serret found it enraging and amusing. How could they invite me to a third son wedding and try to lick arse, Lord Serret mused.
This was the Westerlands, and Lord Serret knew this. Lords loved feasting, and they were all rich buggers, as Alex would like to say. Everybody had a mine. Not nearly as much as the Lannisters did, but everybody did anyway. It's why the Ironborn keep raiding. They see the land as a sweet ripe apple to be seized. Lord Serret hated two things in life: people treating the smallfolk like cattle, and Ironborn.
Lord Serret brought his mind to the present. The joust. It had been going on for a little bit now. Alex was dominating as usual. Lord Serret had a sweet, sweet smile about that.
After the melee, Alex kind of disappeared away from the adoring crowds. Lord Serret asked Cadwyn where he went, but Cadwyn shrugged. "Just an Alex thing," he remembered Cadwyn saying.
Cadwyn was another one Lord Serret kept an eye on. Lord Serret's Master of Arms told him how good the one and twenty man was becoming. Cadwyn was defeating his own seasoned veterans with ease. Oscar, his sworn man, told him back then that he thought Cadwyn had a good chance at getting into the Kingsguard once he was formally knighted.
Lord Serret wasn't surprised. It made logical sense. The freak that was Alex made Cadwyn into a freak himself, just not a manifestation of the warrior that was Alex. Lord Serret now had his eyes on the three part plan he envisioned that fateful day when Alex agreed to participate.
The first part of the plan was easy. Alex would announce himself as the peafowl champion and his otherworldly strength to the broader world at large.
The second part was to garner enough attention from the local lords, which was easy considering how much Alex played to the theatrics. What a right showoff, Lord Serret chuckled.
This was in part to make Lord Serret have enough sway in the Westerlands as a whole. Lord Serret was ambitious, not power hungry. He only sought to improve the lives of those below him, and there was only so much he could do.
Lord Serret also understood that people cling to strength like a moth to a flame. The stronger the flame, the larger the swarm of moths. It was always a double edged sword. Too bright, and it'll fizz out quickly. Lord Serret had his own countermeasures for this. His own plans for plans.
The final part, and most important part, was to placate the Queen. Why the Queen? Lord Serret knew that Lord Jason was licking the right boot off the Hightowers in part so he could gain more from the upcoming tragedy. Everybody knew what was going to happen. Every lord with an inkling of the game knew that the moment King Viserys had his trueborn son Aegon, war was coming. The Hightowers would never let a daughter inherit before a son. Pompous pricks that refused to change their "culture".
Lord Serret didn't care. He only cared for the poor souls that would be lost to the rampant looting and pillaging. The orphans that would be made. Why should the lords dictate life and death for the smallfolk? His grandfather always beat it into him to always respect your fellow. They live, dance, love, fuck, shit, and scream all the same as you. Be well to remember this, my grandson, his grandfather chiding him.
Lord Serret planned something for the Queen, and placation was a step in that plan. The only reason he had these plans came the moment the Lion Slayer walked through his halls. Lord Serret knew she would come. It would only be a matter of when.
Alex understood Lord Serret and his plans. Lord Serret hid nothing from him. He trusted Alex, and Alex trusted him. Where others saw a lord and his sworn man, Lord Serret and Alex were nothing of the sort. Alex was a partner, a trusted fellow, the mentor to his son. He respected Alex immensely, and he always prayed to the Seven in gratitude that he was brought to his domain.
Back to the joust, Lord Serret saw Alex quickly obliterate another knight. His lance with an iron peafowl feather instead of a fist at the tip. He's got an eye for the grandness. Will I tell him this and balloon his head? Seven no! I'll plop myself into the grave before I coax his ego, Lord Serret laughed.
With a massive cheer, Alex unhorsed his final opponent. He then did what was asked of him to do in the plan. He strutted towards the Queen and declared his victory in her name. The Queen readily accepted, her sadistic smile easy for everybody to see.
Alex then strutted towards the box. Lord Serret got off his seat and walked towards the edge. Alex then, with a booming roar:
"I declare that I will win the archery in your name, my lord, and bring honour to the peafowl!"
Lord Serret saw a cheeky smile from Alex.
Lord Serret obliged in the theatrics of it all and nodded his head. Alex then sped off into the distance.
He then saw the Queen wave at him. Lord Serret had his usual cordial smile on and waved back.
Oh, how the game got interesting.