Chapter 182 - My SI Stash #82 - No Creature half so Terrifying by Supasoulja_X (ASOIAF/GOT) (1/2)
-A law clerk SI into Westeros as Stannis Baratheon~ I've never heard of a law clerk before but it seems to be some sort of lawyer aide. Some bromance in this fic!
Sypnosis: This is simple we have a man who was a Brooklyn Law Clerk jumped into the Mannis just as Robert's Rebellion is almost over. How can a Truly Just Man change things? Warning for language, some s_e_x_u_a_l implications and violence.
This fic will probably be over quickly as this SI doesn't f_u_c_k around'
Rated: M
Words: 36K
Posted on: forums.spacebattles.com/threads/no-creature-half-so-terrifying-asoiaf-si.819018/#post-64284894 (Supasoulja_X)
PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)
-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)
”Only a kind person is able to judge another justly and to make allowances for his weaknesses.
A kind eye, while recognizing defects, sees beyond them.”
Lawrence G. Lovasik
A small voice, no a lean voice beckoned to me from the aether. ”Brother, please get up! Don't leave me here by myself.”
Another voice, older with a mix of gentle reproach and understanding answered him. ”And where am I young Renly if not right behind you?”
From what I somehow knew without thinking was a sick bed I could practically see the image of the elder maester. Slightly hunched, but surprisingly spry when he chose to be Cressen still had a good deal of life in him yet. Though if this siege continued much longer I feared that he and my young brother would be among the first casualties. They certainly would die even sooner if I didn't get up from this blasted bed and see to the morale of my troops.
Another thought struck me then. How the hell did I get behind the walls of Storms End in yet another blasted war caused by the foolish greed and unchecked passions of so called great lords? The last thing I remembered was going to bed after a double shift at the Court of Appeals at 45 Monroe Place. The same building I worked at for the better part of 20 years as a clerk alternating between the offices of the public defender and prosecution.
I could feel another consciousness just beneath the surface of my own. Memories that had no real context or made any sense then flooded into my mindscape showing me the various relevant relationsh_i_p_s between my family and those who resided in a place called ”Storm's End”. After a few seconds I could recall the names and details of at least two hundred people and intimate facts of the residents just as quickly as those of my 'real' family or friends. After that moment I couldn't even say which 'reality' was closer to my heart. I felt myself sputter as my mind g_r_o_a_n_e_d to cope with it all.
The back of my mind sent a firm directive to me, reminding me of my time in the both the R.O.T.C and the U.S. Navy. It almost seemed to shout at me the way my father would when he caught me slacking off instead of studying or training for a meet. 'you were a combat soldier once, and once a soldier always a soldier. Worry about the reality of your existence later. First survive and do your duty to my family. My brothers and the realm are depending on you'. For some reason I could feel how important a part of me considered the lives before me.
”See Renly you didn't have anything to worry bout. It would take much more than some cowardly strike to vanquish Lord Stannis!” The speaker was Ser Harold Tarshen, a household knight aged about thirty years. He was wearing full armor, but I assumed even with a fighter's ration he was rather gaunt under the plate. His unhelmeted hair displayed salt and pepper handlebar mustache and what looked like mutton chop sideburns. It was probably meant to make him look fierce, but not everyone could pull of the Tywin or Wolverine look.
I remember Renly saying he looked more like a mummer than the fierce boar he wished to appear as. No one had the heart or the lack of common sense to inform Ser Harold of that fact, as he was truly f_u_c_k_i_n_g deadly with fist, long sword or great sword. Though I suspected he saw my kid brother snickering when he wasn't looking.
”He'd better. Some of the men look at me funny. I think they want to eat me.”
I could hear the fear in his frail voice and I could see his increasingly distended belly. Suddenly I felt intensely angry at the people responsible for this situation. Said sacks of suet were Lord Mace Tyrell of the Reach and Rheagar Targaryen, for I would never again call him or any of his line a prince. Most of all I burned with a hate I never knew in what my soul told me was my past life, for his mad father who was no kind of king at all. If the rumors were true and I knew they certainly were he was a beast in human skin worse than the Mountain that rides or even his predecessor, the so called Smiling Knight.
To be honest some of my ire was directed at Brandon Stark, his father, John Aryn and yes even my brother Robert. For while Robert was right to defend his betrothal, both sets of my emotions seriously doubted he even knew what the words matrimonial monogamy or genuine affection were. It was likely he couldn't even spell the words. The elder Starks while justified in their anger were bloody fools to ride into Kings Landing and even more mad than Aerys to insult an man so beloved of cruel torture to his face! All this largely came about because the bloody Eagle was so quick to join hands with the sly wolf to hedge bets on the Iron Throne in the false belief they had all the angles covered. Now my little brother was dying by inches while they played politics or danced about like knights from some cursed song.