Barristan Selmy was furious. He was actively being dismissed by the Lannisters for sheer "incompetence."
A short time ago, the massive, starving slums of King's Landing had violently erupted into a catastrophic riot due to severe food shortages and the rampant, unchecked spread of plague. Directly because of Queen Cersei's profound arrogance and political inaction, the sheer number of armed, desperate rioters had rapidly swelled into the tens of thousands.
At that apocalyptic point, the corrupt City Watch had entirely lost control. Even if Lord Tywin had aggressively marched his primary host into the city, the starving mobs of King's Landing would have violently dared to engage the Lannister veterans in bloody, suicidal street battles simply to secure Harrenhal's smuggled iron weapons and medical tonics.
To actively prevent the helpless commoners of King's Landing from being brutally slaughtered in the riots, Ser Barristan Selmy, personally accompanied by several Kingsguard brothers, had courageously ridden directly into the burning center of the riots to peacefully negotiate with the desperate residents.
The exact moment the violent mob realized that the legendary Ser Barristan the Bold had personally come to them, they immediately halted their violence. Tens of thousands of starving rioters peacefully lowered their weapons and heavily surrounded Barristan simply to listen to what the honorable knight had to say.
Operating strictly in his supreme capacity as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and driven entirely by his profound personal honor, Barristan formally assured the terrified residents that he would actively resolve their suffering.
He first strictly commanded the rioters to peacefully cease the violence and return to their tenements. Immediately after, Barristan aggressively began to independently coordinate the massive distribution of royal grain stores and rigorously implemented the advanced epidemic prevention protocols previously suggested by Roman Rivers.
Historically, a Lord Commander of the Kingsguard fundamentally possessed absolutely no civic authority to govern the capital's logistics. But this was Barristan Selmy. The cynical population of King's Landing might entirely despise King Robert, violently hate Joffrey, and absolutely loathe Cersei, but they would absolutely never look down upon Barristan the Bold.
With Barristan actively in charge, King's Landing miraculously began to distribute emergency food rations in a highly orderly, peaceful manner. Furthermore, the specialized Harrenhal Vanguard agents heavily embedded within the Gold Cloaks actively stepped out of the shadows to aggressively support Barristan's logistical efforts in containing the plague.
By this point, Roman Rivers had successfully infiltrated over two hundred highly trained Vanguard agents directly into the ranks of the Gold Cloaks. With the highly efficient, logistical assistance of these skilled Harrenhal operatives, massive quarantine stations, sanitary crematoriums, and advanced water purification systems were rapidly established across the slums one by one.
Although King's Landing still tragically lacked sufficient medicinal herbs due to Cersei's embargo, at least the primary sources of infection were actively isolated, and the remaining healthy residents no longer needed to constantly live in absolute terror of the plague.
Standing in a newly sanitized square, Barristan proudly praised the two hundred disguised Gold Cloaks. "There are very few men in King's Landing these days who remain as honorable, disciplined, and fiercely responsible as you men. The capital's massive victory in fighting this epidemic would absolutely not have been possible without your tireless efforts."
The Harrenhal spy captain offered a crisp, perfectly disciplined military salute. "It is an absolute honor to fight alongside you, Ser Barristan! Please, take us with you if you ever require our blades in the future!"
Looking at the incredibly disciplined, highly upright City Guards standing before him, Barristan suddenly felt a brief flash of confusion. He had always believed Janos Slynt was an entirely corrupt, irredeemable official; he was deeply surprised that Slynt had apparently managed to train such a flawlessly honorable detachment.
However, just as Barristan was conducting his routine, peaceful patrol of the lower districts, Queen Regent Cersei abruptly dispatched a royal page, strictly ordering him to return to the Red Keep immediately.
Barristan arrived at the Great Hall entirely bewildered. Upon entering, he immediately saw King Joffrey sitting arrogantly upon the Iron Throne, with Cersei standing haughtily beside him. Sandor Clegane, the Hound, and the rest of the Kingsguard brothers were heavily stationed around the dais.
The old knight fundamentally could not comprehend exactly what these arrogant royals were currently plotting. However, the cursed, magical greatsword Roman Rivers had gifted him months ago abruptly began to violently tremble in its scabbard.
Barristan felt a sharp, electric tingling sensation radiate through his palm, followed by a massive, comforting wave of warm energy actively spreading throughout his entire body. He immediately realized his magical blade had actively detected a severe, lethal anomaly within the room.
What exactly are King Joffrey and the Queen Mother attempting to do? Barristan thought grimly.
Although he fundamentally did not know what the cruel boy-king was plotting, Barristan remained strictly honorable. He stepped forward and knelt respectfully before the base of the Iron Throne.
"Good day, Your Grace. May the Seven Gods bless your reign," Barristan spoke formally. "Do you possess a specific royal mission for me this time?"
Cersei shook her golden head, offering a condescending, deeply fake smile. "Ser Barristan, you have always worked incredibly diligently and devoted yourself entirely to the safety of the King. However, I have summoned you here today because we feel that you are rapidly getting on in years. Your legendary reflexes have clearly faded. It is finally time for you to return home and gracefully rest."
Cersei waved her hand dismissively. "The Crown will generously grant you a beautiful coastal castle, as well as enough gold and servants to allow you to live out your old age in absolute comfort."
Barristan was completely, profoundly taken aback. Was Cersei Lannister genuinely attempting to explicitly fire him? He looked up at the throne incredulously, his honorable words coming out in an uncharacteristic, stuttering halt.
"This... no... Your Grace, you fundamentally cannot do this!" Barristan protested, his voice echoing in the hall. "Have I actively committed some form of treason? Have I done something wrong?! A knight of the Kingsguard can only explicitly end his sacred duty with his death!"
Cersei entirely ignored Barristan's passionate defense and coldly declared that her brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, was officially appointed to succeed him as the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Joffrey, however, completely lacked his mother's political patience. He straightened his slumped, arrogant posture on the Iron Throne and stared down at the legendary knight with absolute, unadulterated disdain.
"You are vastly too old to properly protect your king," Joffrey sneered coldly. "You entirely failed to protect my father from a simple boar, and I absolutely do not believe you possess the physical strength to protect me either. Why not simply hand over the captain's white cloak to the young, powerful Ser Jaime?"
"Jaime?!" Barristan's voice violently cracked with profound, unadulterated anger. "You intend to officially crown that honorless, oath-breaking Kingslayer as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?!"
"Ser! Watch your treasonous words!" Cersei snapped violently, her green eyes flashing.
"Not only did you completely, utterly fail to protect King Robert," Cersei lied smoothly, "but you actively conspired with Harrenhal's treasonous spies to forcefully carry out some form of unsanctioned sanitation protocol in King's Landing just days ago. Allowing you to gracefully retire is already an act of profound, divine mercy!"
Barristan felt a massive, agonizing pang of absolute bitterness aggressively pierce his heart as he slowly stood up. He watched in profound horror as his sworn Kingsguard brothers slowly drew their heavy swords, stepping forward to actively surround him.
"Is this truly what all of you believe as well?!" Barristan demanded, glaring at his sworn brothers.
The corrupted Kingsguard knights completely refused to answer him; they merely stared at the old man and smiled maliciously.
In that absolute, agonizing moment, Barristan Selmy's honorable heart was completely, permanently broken. He violently unclasped his legendary white cloak, letting it fall heavily to the stone floor. He aggressively ripped off his enameled breastplate and threw the golden ornaments of the Iron Throne violently at Joffrey's feet.
Cersei and Joffrey had violently, arrogantly forced Barristan to break his sacred Kingsguard oath, while his corrupt brothers actively joined in the humiliating mockery.
"Forget about your pathetic castles!" Barristan roared, his hand gripping the hilt of Roman's cursed sword. "I swore a sacred oath to become a true knight, and I shall absolutely die as a true knight. Please, actively keep those pathetic rewards to choke the Queen Mother!"
Barristan turned his back on the Iron Throne and proudly walked out of the Great Hall. Cersei lazily watched him leave, casually fiddling with her manicured nails, fundamentally failing to comprehend the apocalyptic political error she had just committed.
Cersei absolutely did not care about the catastrophic geopolitical consequences of violently driving Barristan the Bold away; she selfishly only wanted her beloved Jaime to return to her side as Lord Commander.
Tyrion and Kevan Lannister were actively away from the Red Keep managing the logistics at the time. They only officially learned of the catastrophic, idiotic dismissal hours later by actively listening to the incredibly angry, violent rumors currently exploding among the common people in the streets of King's Landing.
"That absolute, psychotic idiot!" Kevan roared furiously, his face turning purple. "How exactly dare Cersei take matters into her own arrogant hands and violently dismiss Barristan Selmy?! Does she genuinely not comprehend that Barristan is the absolute only reason the massive slums aren't currently burning the city to the ground?! What exactly will the starving population of King's Landing think of House Lannister now?!"
"Uncle, there is absolutely no use furiously complaining about her stupidity now," Tyrion said frantically, pacing the streets. "The absolute most vital objective is to rapidly track down Ser Barristan and officially stabilize the furious morale of the city! You must aggressively return to the Red Keep, permanently lock down the throne room, and violently stop Cersei from causing any more apocalyptic political disasters!"
At this terrifying point, the Lannister uncle and nephew could only frantically attempt to clean up Cersei's catastrophic mess. If they failed, the furious mobs of King's Landing might genuinely, violently tear the Red Keep down stone by stone.
Meanwhile, as Barristan solemnly walked through the lower districts, he was suddenly stopped in a dark alleyway by a small group of street children. One of the dirty orphans quickly pressed a heavily sealed, highly encrypted parchment directly into the old knight's hand.
"Ser Barristan," the child whispered nervously. "A very tall man actively paid us a silver stag to explicitly deliver this letter into your hands."
When Old Barristan carefully broke the wax seal and opened the parchment, he was deeply surprised to discover a handwritten, highly respectful letter from Roman Rivers, actively inviting him to Harrenhal.
Dear Ser Barristan, the elegant handwriting read. By the time you inevitably read this letter, I assume you must be feeling profoundly betrayed and entirely disillusioned with the Iron Throne. I was once greatly honored to be instructed in swordsmanship by you. Therefore, as a true friend, I sincerely invite you to travel to Harrenhal for a long, peaceful chat. We shall share another drink together, far from the rot of King's Landing.
"Harrenhal?" Barristan murmured, his eyes widening slightly.
Barristan gazed out across the sprawling rooftops of the city toward the distant northern horizon. He had already heard the massive, terrifying rumors regarding Roman's brutal conquest of the Crownlands. The arrogant, cowardly nobles absolutely hated and feared the Dragon Lord. But the starving, heavily oppressed common people actively praised Roman Rivers as a divine, mythological messenger of the Seven Gods, violently bringing order, prosperity, and hope to the poor.
After struggling intensely with his profound, ingrained loyalty to the Crown for several long minutes, Barristan finally let out a massive, self-deprecating laugh.
He was absolutely no longer a Kingsguard. Stripped entirely of his sacred position by a cruel boy-king, he fundamentally possessed absolutely no royal authority to rely on, and absolutely no sacred vows left to hold him back.
In the absolute midst of the catastrophic, apocalyptic chaos currently consuming Westeros, Roman Rivers was the absolute only lord actively adored by his common subjects. Barristan sighed deeply inwardly. He had loyally served so many vastly flawed, psychotic kings, and fundamentally none of them had ever managed to achieve a fraction of Roman's brilliant, honorable reputation.
"Perhaps," Barristan whispered into the wind, his hand resting on the pommel of his cursed sword, "traveling to Harrenhal would be a highly excellent option."
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