A Song of Weiss and Fire (RWBY/Game of Thrones)

1-6

Dramen

In all of the years Dramen had been alive, he never thought that he would see Lannisport sacked before his very eyes. Lannisport had been burned and sacked a few times in its history, any city in Westeros could hold claim to that. It had been decades, if not over a hundred years, since Lannisport had last attacked, once again by the Ironborn, not since the Dance of Dragons when Dalton Grejoy sacked the city if Dramen remembered his books. Those books would soon have his name as the Lord of Lannisport as the Lannister fleet burned in the docks without a fight, every war galley and cog still anchored. Even from the Gold Keep, Dramen would see the flames of the expensive ships soar into the night sky. He swore he could literally see golden flames leaping from the burning hulks, which did not help his mood any.

With bloodshot eyes, the Lord of Lannisport marched out into the courtyard of the Gold Keep, armored in black and red plate with a Lannister half-helm in his hands. His squire, Robert Brax, carried Dramen’s lance, and was dressed in boiled leather with a light chain shirt fitted to suit his smaller body. Rows of armored men on horses had already gathered in the courtyard, their spears and lances glimmering from the moonlight and torches.

“My Lord.” Ser Larys approached him, wearing his full set of armor, heavy and expensive plate. He held the reins of a chestnut horse, one of Dramen’s finest, a warhorse named Steelhoof, who pawed the ground, anxious as they were to shed blood. Ser Tylan stood beside him, dressed in boiled leather and a mail shirt. The old knight looked tired and wary, yet almost eager to fight once more, holding the reins to another horse.

“Ser Larys, Ser Tylan.” Dramen grabbed hold of the reins, preparing to mount the horse Ser Larys had brought, Oakfeather. While not as bloodthirsty as Steelhoof, Oakfeather was still eager to ride once more into battle.

“I have managed to rally forty lancers from the City Watch, my Lord.” Ser Larys continued speaking. “And twenty riders from the household guards.” That no doubt was a mix of knights and men-at-arms that guarded the Gold Keep, Dramen had already ordered dozens more to rally the City Watch stationed around Lannisport. If all went well, they should be able to meet up with them and push the invaders back to the docks. And ideally they would trounce this raid before Lord Tywin showed up. It might be the best way to keep his head attached to his body, after all.

“Ser Larys, Brax, you two shall ride with me.” Dramen said loudly, waving off Robert to gather two more horses. “I leave command of the Gold Keep to Ser Tylan.” It was a risk he was taking, leaving the Gold Keep so undefended, yet even with a small garrison they should be able to withstand a siege should the Ironborn somehow be able to push the City Watch and Lannister footmen back. Also if they did fall, well, Lord Tywin would be coming with reinforcements, so they would have a very short period to lay siege before they were crushed.

“You honor me, my Lord.” Ser Tylan bowed his head, his eyes hard like iron. Robert Brax returned with a horse, one smaller than the Dramen’s and Sery Lary’s.

“It is not an honor, Ser Tylan.” Dramen narrowed his eyes, turning his attention to the lowering drawbridge. Ser Larys easily mounted his steed, and took his position to Dramen’s right. Robert struggled a little more, but managed to do the same, still holding onto Dramen’s lance. “I leave the safety of my family in your hands.”

There was an unspoken threat, one that Ser Tylan likely understood. Should something happen to Ceria or Weiss under Tylan’s watch, not even being a Lannett would protect the old knight from punishment. Admittedly, it was also a sign of trust in the man, he was letting him protect his treasures, and given he had picked up on the raid, was a sign of his confidence in the man.

“I shall protect Lady Lannister and Lady Weiss with my life, this I swear by the Seven, my Lord Lannister.” Ser Tylan said. He pressed his right arm over his chest. The old man was reliable in a fight, even if his age was starting to catch up to him. It would be worth considering, in the aftermath, to ask him to take on a successor, or at least help train up one, and enjoy an honorable retirement from his position as Weiss’ sworn sword. There were plenty of Lannetts, Lantells and Lanny’s in Lannisport that could fulfill those duties.