A Trek Through the Riverlands

Travelling through Westeros was a pain in the ass, thought Lyonel as his the saddle bumped into his butt once more. Sure, he had near two decades of memories about riding horses from the previous Lyonel, and he can now easily ride one, but spending hours on a horse is still no easy task. Lyonel quite envied the ladies of the court who accompanied them, who travelled in comfortable carriages. He envied Tommen too. Robert had long given up on making his son into a 'proper prince' and as a result, Tommen would spend the journey sitting on a cushion in the royal carriage with his mother and sister. But as Robert's favourite child and to play his role as the dashing heir to the realm, he had to go first in the entourage, along with the kingsguard and the distinguished knights of the court.

Then there was the boredom. For the first couple of days, Lyonel was able to enjoy the fresh air and the novel scenery, but it quickly turned into an endless cycle of green. There weren't many people he could talk to either. Cersei, who was fond of him and doted on him every chance she got ( which Lyonel found rather flattering) was not a good person at talking. His new 'uncle' Jamie was a prick. Robert and Tyrion were fun dudes to hang out with, but were drunk for the vast majority of the time. And Tommen, who seemed to be a kind and gentle soul, had a personality of card bode, preferring to hide behind his sister's skirts. And what a woman that sister was! Her teenage attitude and sharp wit made Myrcella the only one Lyonel could have a decent conversation with.

And so, Lyonel and his newly gained family trekked through the beautiful and boring Riverlands. Lyonel was afraid that Robert would stop at every castle and town to hunt, whore and feast, but it turned out that his desire to meet with his childhood friend was too much. And so they travelled as fast as they could, stopping only at the most important castles that they could not ignore.

Lyonel could remember vividly their first stop: Riverrun, the seat of house Tully. A beautiful castle placed between three river branches, childhood home to many fine psychos, idiots and sociopaths such as Lysa Arryn, Catelyn Stark and Petyr Baelish. Lyonel could remember the cold gaze of Hoster Tully, a man who had poisoned the womb of his own daughter, as it fell intently upon Myrcella, while continuously hinting the benefits of a Tully-Baratheon marriage. Lyonel was seriously tempted to punch those words right out of Lord Tully's mouth. No matter how new he was to this body, Lyonel still had 20 years worth of memories thinking about Myrcella as his little sister. Combine that with his huge desire to fuck the blonde bombshell made him twice as protective over her. Fortunately they did not stay in Riverrun for long. Unfortunately their next stop was much, much worse...

"Are you all right brother?" Tommen asked in his soft voice.

"Y-yes, of course," Lyonel replied, though he couldn't stop his voice from shaking as he and his siblings entered the main hall of the Twins, a place where in another reality some of his favourite characters met their doom in the infamous Red Wedding. Of course he knew that such a thing happening to him is a preposterous idea. Yet he couldn't help himself but glance at the dais where Lord Frey laughed while watching the Northerners perished, the heavy doors that closed behind them and the balconies where rows of musicians played 'The Reins of Castamere.'

"He's probably worried about having to deal with the hordes at the dinner tonight." Myrcella said.

"What do you mean?" Tommen asked.

"Well Lord Frey has lots of ambitions and more than fifty daughters and granddaughters. I'm sure that Lyonel here would have to spend the entire night trying ward them off," Myrcella replied and then noticed Lyonel's expression. "Oh don't look so glum brother dearest. I'm sure that at least one of them wouldn't look like a weasel."

"I'm only sad because Tommen will have to spend his eighteenth nameday at this dump," Lyonel said, trying to deflect the focus of the conversation to Tommen's birthday, which, unfortunately, had to be spent on the road with minimal celebrations.

"Oh I'm sure that Lord Frey will deem it most fortunate to have a prince's nameday coinciding with the royal visit," Myrcella said, unable to let the teasing go. "You should probably expect a half a dozen weasel looking Frey women chasing you too Tommen."

The young prince blushed red as a tomato while Lyonel sighed and resigned for his sister's teasing and an evening of dealing with ugly women. Yet to his surprise, once the feast started the Frey women only made polite small talk with him. Walder Frey might be a proud and ambitious man, but also realistic and smart. He must have known that no daughter of his would be able to seduce the heir to the realm. Instead he sent two companions to get close with Lyonel. And so Lyonel spent the feast with Petyr Frey, commonly known as Petyr Pimple to his right and one of the numerous Walder Freys that lived in the Twins to his left. Lyonel decided to keep his guard up, but the Dornish red was far stronger than he anticipated and soon he was chatting and laughing with the two Freys as if they were long lost friends.

"What about her. She has a good arse on her." Petyr Pimple said, pointing at the nearest maid. She bent down and set a tankard on the table opposite to them, proving the fact that she did indeed have a good arse on her.

"A worthy contender." Lyonel agreed. "But the prettiest servant in the Twins? I'll have to take a good look at her tits to agree with that.

A snort came from his left. "With all due respect your majesty," Walder Frey junior said, gulping down his third tankard. "You pay too much attention to tits. That's an arse that lords would go to war over."

"Perhaps." Lyonel mused. Then he stood up. "Well I have to take a piss. I'll be back soon."

Lyonel walked through the noisy, crowded main hall. He saw King Robert at the dais, drinking and speaking with Walder Frey and nodded at Sir Meryn Trant, who was standing guard. A couple more steps, and Lyonel saw something that made his blood boil. He now realized Frey's plans. Frey knew that it would be impossible to have a marriage alliance with the heir to the realm. And so he had sent two of his sons to distract Lyonel and then sent another to seduce the princess of the realm, who he must have assumed was naïve and easy to trick. Unfortunately for Frey, the son he sent had too much to drink and even from a distance Lyonel could see his ridiculous mannerisms and hear the slurred speech. Tommen stood faithfully at Myrcella's side, silent and timid, but his face was queasy from hearing the words of his sister's would be seducer. Where was Jamie? Lyonel thought. He was supposed to stand guard over them!

Lyonel went close to intervene, hands clenching around the non-existent sword to his side. But just as he was close to hear what they were talking about, Myrcella noticed him and gave one of her signature smirks. She turned back to the young Frey, stood up and curtsied. "A moment my lord."

The Frey nodded absentmindedly. Lyonel wasn't even sure if he heard the words.

Myrcella walked towards him and Lyonel intensely focused on her face, a bit because he was worried about her, but mostly to avoid his eyes from looking at the small amount of cleavage she displayed, which jiggled as she walked. Once she was close enough, he put her hands on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Cella?"

"Why wouldn't I?" the princess replied. "My would be suitor has already promised to make me the lady of the Twins, and that he would have me carried here on a carriage drawn by seven white horses on our wedding day." Myrcella snorted. "As if I would want to live in this piece of - oh gods what's he doing?"

Seeing her horrified expression Lyonel quickly looked back, and the sight his eyes met made him sick to the stomach. The young Frey was so drunk that he had mistaken Myrcella with the similar looking Tommen and has begun to seduce him. Just as they were watching, he leaned over the table, grabbed a fistful of Tommen's hair and pressed it to his face. "Such beautiful golden locks princess," he remarked. "I will make you a castle of gold once we are married."

Lyonel would have found the entire thing funny, if it weren't for the utterly mortified look on Tommen's face. He was trembling, but unable to do anything, paralyzed with fear. And then the Frey lowered his hand, putting it in the place where Myrcella's boob would be, if that had been her.

Blinded by rage, Lyonel stepped forward. Grabbing a large, filled tankard he swung it at the Frey's face, knocking him out at once. Immediately several people pounced on him, Freys too drunk to notice they were attacking a member of the royal family. The next few seconds were a blur to Lyonel. He noticed Myrcella's shouting, Sir Trant coming down and diffusing the situation with several good punches of his chained fists, and Jamie and Cersei coming out of a distant corridor. But too much drink and weeks of travel took it's toll on Lyonel and he passed out.

Lyonel woke up in a comfortable yet unfamiliar room. A maester he did not know was in the room, who gave him a cup of water and went out. The voices of several people talking and then the door opened again and his family came in.

The first to came in was Tommen, who rushed to Lyonel and hugged him fiercely. "Thank you brother! Thank you so much for saving me from that horrible, horrible man!"

It was a bit awkward for Lyonel but he hesitantly patted Tommen on the back. But then Myrcella came in, who hugged him just as enthusiastically. Lyonel was too dazed to even fully appreciate Myrcella's considerable tits pressing against his chest. Then Cersei and Robert entered the room. Cersei quickly rushed to Lyonel, bending down and kissing his brow, giving him a chance to look quite far down her dress. Unfortunately, the kiss lasted only three seconds. He counted.

"What happened?" Lyonel asked.

"What happened?" Robert shouted. "I tell you what happened my boy! You broke Simon Frey's jaw with one punch!"

Robert laughed heartily. Lyonel winced. He was not used to hangovers at all. "What happened? I hope no one got hurt."

"Hurt? No lad. A few scratches and bruises. And you held your own against three men! While drunk! Of course none of this would have happened if the fucking kingslayer was there where he should be!"

Cersei glared at her husband but held her silence.

"And none of this would have happened if Tommen acted like a proper man! Letting yourself be touched like that? Your brother would never!"

Robert spat out the last words. Tommen looked down and mumbled an apology. Cersei stood up as fast as a viper. "You should be punishing the men who assaulted your son, instead of berating him!"

"What do you want me to do woman! Lads fight when they are drunk! No one was hurt and we'll leave it at that!"

Before Cersei could shout back a retort, Lyonel interfered. He really did not want to listen to further shouting. "I agree with father. The Freys shouldn't be punished for a drunken mistake. But perhaps we can leave today? I'm sure that all of us has had enough of the Twins."

Robert was silent for a moment before nodding. "I'll have the steward look into it."

He patted Lyonel's shoulder a couple of times, gave a final look of disgust at Tommen and walked out. The rest of the family once again swarmed around Lyonel, complimenting his bravery and worrying about the small scratch on his brow which he got from the brawl. Lyonel was feeling conflicted. He had gained even more trust and affection from his family members, two of whom he was planning to fuck. But he couldn't shake his mind off the fact that he had made an enemy of one of the most treacherous and ruthless houses in Westeros.