graildraft

by Hankton

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2. tridentreforged2

Apr 1, 2018

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#317

Book One - Blood In The River

10 BCE

Riverrun

Looking into the horizon from the solar window, I couldn't help but think of how far House Tully had come from its humble beginnings some thousands of years ago. From household knights (or the First Men equivalent before knights were a thing in Westeros) to the power that we were now.

When Axel Tully had laid down the foundations of Riverrun on the junction of the Red Fork and the Tumblestone, how many people were underneath his domains? A dozen? Less? More? A shame we didn't keep records that far back... or maybe not a shame considering the sheer amount of parchment that would be needed.

It would probably be out of Axel's mind to even comprehend the sheer fact that now, a little under two hundred and fifty thousand souls lived in the lands directly underneath the control of House Tully and its direct bannermen.

I mean, that was a lot of people. I couldn't even begin to imagining that many people inside my head. I don't think I have ever seen such a large group pf people before. It was all just a little mind boggling.

I turned away from the vast expanses of Riverrun in the distance. "Are these numbers totally accurate?" I asked Kevan as I indicated towards the parchment paper that was flatted down onto my desk.

Kevan gave a single firm nod that wasn't filled with any doubts at all. "Aye, they are Edmyn." The steward happened to be probably the only other person other than Axel that called me by my name, but only in private and when we were alone. I rather liked him a little more for that. I was still not yet used to people not referring me by my name. "I gave firm instructions for people to be counted once, then once again and once more. I don't take my duties lightly."

A couple of months after the order had been given, the lord steward had finally delivered the results that I had asked for. I had totally expected it to last longer considering that he sort of had to impress some of my guardsmen into his little force, but everything seemed to have worked out for the best.

"I know that! It's why I entrusted you with such a task." I glanced down at the parchment paper for a moment and took in the total number. It wasn't exactly the sort of census data that I was used to seeing, but at the very least, it was something. "Hopefully, you'll carry the same enthusiasm from this task to the next one?"

The elder man's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Another one? Do take pity on me and try not to run me ragged. These bones of mine aren't as young as they used to be."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it being that strenuous," I said, laughing. "No, this one is far more agreeable to task to those aged bones of yours. I wish you to come into contact with the various Guild of Scribes... or whatever of said guilds that exist in our realm."

The steward raised an eyebrow an interest. "The scribes?"

I nodded. "I will have need of men with their particular skills in the future and thus, I want to bring them on side."

Sometimes, you learn quite a few bits and pieces of knowledge and wisdom when wiki-crawling through nothing more than sheer boredom and a need to do something else other than work. Procrastination happened to be one of my few weak points, but unfortunately, it just so happened that there was nothing in this part of the world that could allow me to procrastinate with ease.

That, and the fact that there were people that would literally not allow me to enjoy that little freedom.

I have done more work in the past half a year than I would like to admit. Hell, I had probably done more work than Aegon in his entire reign.

"Negotiations will have to be made not just with the guild masters, but with the lords of the settlements that they are based in. Seagard, Maidenpool, Duskendale..." He shook his head for a moment. "I suspect it would be easier going with Lords Mallister and Mooton, but far more difficult with Lord Darklyn."

"I'm sure the lord will come around." I did have his son and daughter after all. Thinking back, that sentence did not sound like anything a gangster would say at all. "But it's still early days, so just make contact and then go from there."

From what I was seeing from where I stood, the army portion of the Armed Forces of the Trident... Trident Armed Forces... Forces of the Trident... Trident Forces...? Yeah, okay, I was going to come back to that at a later date. Basically, the army was coming along nicely. The men were being constantly drilled day in, day out.

When I had last seen the lot of the young men that stood in perfectly disciplined formation in front of me, many of them weren't thin as sticks, but I wouldn't say they were the most well-built or athletic looking. Now though? After being put through the motions by Ser Patrek and the knights and men-at-arms I had left, they looked rather intimidating.

They still didn't have their arms or armour since I was still working on that. Even then, there was still something of a force majestic of seeing some couple of thousand men trained to fight and kill at the drop of the hat just stand there, looking all intimidating.

I panned my eyes over the entire courtyard once more (that was nowhere near filled despite the sheer bodies packed within its confines) before nodding my head. "You can dismiss them, ser." I said to the man in charge of this entire operation.

Ser Patrek didn't even need to give me some sort of verbal or physical acknowledgement of my order before he stepped forward and bellowed out an order of dismissal that sent all the men marching in formation back to their barracks.

Bloody hell, the knight had inflicted some fear some discipline into them.

He turned to me with a grin of pride. "I think they are coming along nicely, your grace. All of the lads are in good spirits and everything is going as well as it should be. When they are fully kitted out, they will be the best foot in the entirety of the kingdoms."

Watching the men file out through one of the massive inner gatehouses of Harrenhal, I nodded at the sers words. "I can see that. Just seeing them doing nothing but stand around and march is more than enough to tell me we have something good going on here."

The ser shook his head as he led me inside the largest and most central of the towers of Harrenhal that had been acquired as something of the headquarters of the army. "Never thought I'd live to see the day such a force would exist in Westeros. I mean, I have read about such hosts from tales and histories of the east, but never in Westeros."

The insides of the tower were truly vast, probably larger than the entirety of the space Riverrun took by itself. I sincerely doubted that even the army had come close to anywhere near the numbers of being able to fully man the entirety of the walls of Harrenhal, let alone staff its bullshit grounds and towers.

Thankfully, Ser Patrek had more than enough common sense to know that he didn't have the man or staff for that sort of nonsense. Instead, he had just taken just a small portion of the ground floor for the administrative parts of the job I had given him.

"It's somewhat funny considering the Andals come from the east." I mused, genuinely interested. From what I could understand, actual standing forces were a thing in Essos during the time the Andals were still very much there. So, what happened? "I guess I just might be making everything right and proper."

The ser let out a bark of laughter at my words as he led me into his office, a cavernous enough room that needed four hearths for reasons that shall remain a mystery to me. He offered me a seat which I took, but I declined the drink.

I was trying to save my liver and I had vowed one day of finding a way to purify water that did not involve boiling it. I swear, I knew of other methods of water purification, but it all just seemed to escape me and I so wanted to badly remember those methods.

"How about the idea I'm trying to sell?" I enquired as the ser took some sips from his goblet.

"About fighting for the Trident?" I nodded as an answer to his question. A thoughtful look came upon the man. "Hm, I think the men have taken a liking to it, your grace. The knights and officers have been giving out speeches about protecting the Riverlands from future invaders like that of the ironborn. Those bards and mummers you have sent to sing and do their mummery of the past atrocities on our lands..." He shook his head. "It's more than enough to get some of them real passionate, your grace."

If Ser Patrek knew who Montgomery Burns was right now, he would have probably felt his heart jump a little when I brought my hands together and crossed my legs before saying this one word. "Excellent."

The Riverlands were one of those few places in Westeros were proto-nationalism or actual nationalism could be fostered. It already had the partisan history amongst the smallfolk, just reading the history books about the land was more than obvious enough. I had made it my life mission to foster and fan that sentiment into an idea, something that the people of the lands can rally around so that they could go above and beyond.

Sure, the bards, the mummers and the officers had precise orders to slander all the other kingdoms (mostly the ironborn, cos fuck them) to hell and back every single chance they got but considering the history of the Riverlands, was what I was doing truly a bad thing? No? I didn't think so.

It just also happened that the army wasn't the only field that I was planting the seeds of nationalism. I was getting as many bards and mummers I could get my grubby little hands on to do the same in every place of population their feet took them. It was still early days, but the field was definitely being planted. All that was left was making sure that it grew well.

It also didn't hurt that one way or another, me, Axel or House Tully were included in many of these patriotic songs, because I wanted to tell the actual truth of what happened. About how Harren's black rule was brought low by two young lords who couldn't stand the tyranny and their motherland suffer anymore and risked life and limb to free it.

Well, that was the official story anyway.

"Near four thousand men?" I whistled at the number that Ser Patrek had given me of the total force of men. This army was growing faster than I had thought it was going to be. "Slow down recruitment for now. Let's get this first batch of lads kitted out before we have our next influx of recruits."

I also didn't want to take too many farm boys away from their farms before some of my farming ideas and devices came into play. The Norfolk system was slowly being introduced into my domain. Although I could suggest my lords take up the system, it was better for them to see the results themselves and then adopt it willingly.

Being seen as someone who forced people to follow my rather untested ideas by force was a good way of people harkening to the days of Harren. I didn't even need Axel, Jaime or Kevan to tell me that much.

What was the percentage again of a manageable army for a medieval rural economy? I think it was one or two percent. Until I could get a full census kingdom wide, I didn't know what I was working with.

And I had yet to even take into consideration the whole logistics of the matter. Wikipedia had once imparted knowledge to me that a single Roman legion needed thirteen and a half tonnes of food to feed it for a month. That was a good number to work by. Problem is, I can't precisely remember which period of the Roman war machine that particular number could be applied to. It ran the gamut of being applied from anywhere between the early days of the Republic to the latter days of the Empire.

I don't even know if that figure even included the food for horses. Gods know that horses eat a lot, so that probably pushed up the total number of supplies such a force would need to function in the field.

It seems, by the looks of things, I was going to have to find people to science the shit out of this.

Actually, speaking of horses, how did combined arms go again? Something about infantry, cavalry and artillery working together to devastating effect or something? Actually, do I even need artillery? Well... it certainly wouldn't hurt to have an engineer corps of some kind.

All this was beginning to make me question the choices I took in life once more.

I'm forever blowing bubbles,

Pretty bubbles in the air,

At some point in time, I had decided to go for a walk amongst the barracks and interact with the men. It took some of them to stop being so stiff with me, but my general laid-back manner seemed to have finally got them used to me.

Then we started drinking.

They fly so high,

Nearly reach the sky,

Then like my dreams,

They fade and die.

I don't know how, but I think either bubbles or Green Street was mentioned and this happened. I was no musician. The songs that I could barely remember the lyrics to went exactly the sort of songs military men would sing on the march, I think.

But there's something about this particular song, even though I wasn't a supporter of West Ham, that stuck inside your head.

Fortune's always hiding,

I've looked everywhere,

I'm forever blowing bubbles,

Pretty bubbles in the air!

Okay, I lied. I can only remember the chorus and that's about it.

And holy crap, in my drunken stupor, I've just realised this song is pretty dark.

Looking around me, through blurry eyes around a large bonfire that we had started at some point, was me and a large group of men. It was difficult to tell how many men, but I figured it was a lot of men. Hundreds. Thousands.

A lot.

And we were all drunk as skunks and Forever blowing bubbles!

If the song was dark, I don't think any of them cared at all and were just enjoying themselves in the merriment.

Zhoe had been a guest at Riverrun for the better part of nearly two months now. During that time, I took high upon myself to try and get to know the woman that I was going to marry and who was going to rule by my side as my queen.

Therefore, it had become by now, routine for me to have some time put aside in my schedule to find said lady and spend time with her. It had been somewhat awkward at first, me not exactly being the most poetic or romantic or charming of people.

I wish I could say that I would have dug into the memories of Edmyn to help me out here, but he was pretty average himself in that department, so I was left to improvise.

Thankfully, Zhoe seemed to have something resembling a personality, not what at all I had been expecting from a young woman that had more than likely been sheltered her entire life to protect her from the eyes of some ironborn or another.

"Please try and control your sister." I said as we walked through the godswood of Riverrun. It wasn't the largest or the most populated with trees, but it was good enough and had a certain beauty to it. I suppose once upon a time, there had been a power here. "My fortunate cousin doesn't really know how to handle her."

"I think you mean unfortunate." My bride-to-be replied with amusement, one of her arms linked with mine.

Her reply caused me to raise an eyebrow in interest. It's not exactly how I expected her to reply to her sister's constant flirtations with Lyam, despite the somewhat minor scandal it was brewing, considering the times. "Unfortunate? And here I would have assumed that you would be cheering your sister all the way."

Like I said, she had a personality.

Egg's monologues about the girls at court had made me worried that most noble ladies had nothing at all when it came to a personality. Or maybe I was thinking of a different book series. I really couldn't be sure.

I didn't spend all that much time taking in the entirety of the Egg and Dunk Adventures.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, your grace. I love my sister from the deepest parts of my heart and soul, but I fear for your cousin if a match is to happen between the two of them." She paused for a moment, as if in thought. "Lord Lyam seems a touch delicate."

At that, I nearly snorted. Lyam was a nice enough lad, but delicate he was not. The guy certainly knew how to wield a sword and mace well enough to defeat knights older than him. "He does have that sort of look, doesn't he?" But just because he could do all of that did not mean I was going to give my cousin an easy ride. "The sort of wispy, fragile look."

"I think it's the face." She said. "It's just too soft looking. Softer than some of the younger ladies in your court."

"Eh, I'm sure with enough time on the training yard, he'll grow out of it."

We continued to walk around the godswood some more, talking about nothing more than the happenings of my court and some of the gossip and rumours that was going around. About Lord Darry trying to somehow impress his son Myles on Gertrude Stokeworth only for the boy to mess it up badly in front of her and her brother. I would admit that caught my attention.

Lord Darry seemed to be a very busy man. The ploughman had probably been the first to adopt the Norfolk system with little encouragement from me after touring the fields after the first harvests. I'm sure Lord Mooton had done the same, but the ploughman had more than likely jumped on the chance to get into my good graces or he just happened to see what I had seen.

The sigil of House Darry was a ploughman for a reason, I would suspect.

"I'm sure we've passed this tree several times now." I mused as we passed a now very familiar looking sentinel tree.

Zhoe gave a single nod of her dainty little head. "Five times, by my reckoning."

"I suppose our next little outing, a change in scenery would very much do."

"I do think I have seen enough of your godswood, your grace, interesting as it is."

Smirking in good humour at the cheek, I replied. "Then you must tell me all about Maidenpool's own godswood then."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to bore you with that, your grace." The young (probably not) maid of Maidenpool replied with a little smirk of her own. "Riverrun's godswood overshadows poor little Maidenpool's." The tone of her voice told her all I needed to know that she was making shit up.

Not that I blamed her, I suspected the now city's godswood would be far larger than Riverrun's in the first place. It would be only logical.

"My lady," I began, my voice having a little more seriousness in it as I moved onto an event that was rapidly coming up soon. "We'll soon be married."

Having noticed the slight change in my tone, Zhoe had straightened herself up some and there was a bit more force in the arm that was linked in mine. "It will be a wonderful event for all the realm."

People said the same thing about Joffrey's wedding and look what happened. I want the wedding to be nice and small, but noooo, appearances had to be made and all that other bullshit.

"True, but what I want to talk about is your role afterwards."

"I would not worry about it, your grace. I shall keep to the court and hearth and the child bed and not involve myself in matters that do not concern me."

I blinked before I realised that I lived in a world where women staying in the kitchen was in full affect. As far as anybody was concerned, that would be her job as queen, nothing more, nothing less.

"Actually, I was going to ask whether you would be comfortable being one of my advisers."

That took her by surprise by the way she turned her head to look up at me a not too quickly, but quickly enough for it to still be noticeable. "You would wish for me to... advice you?"

I nodded. "Your lord father spoke very highly of you. I figured that such a wonderful woman could not be just left to the side as tradition would demand, no, I want you to counsel me in matters of state. Of course, this is all if you wish to take up that duty amongst others."

Like her being charge just in case I wasn't around to do discharge my kingly duties for one reason or another. Little by little, here I was trying to change some of the more... questionable aspects of Westerosi culture and society brick by boring brick.

I had yet to be exposed to the sheer fratboy paradise that was Westeros, but I more than knew enough that it existed-and hey, that's Axel and why is he with Alys Darklyn? My little brother stood up straighter than he already was when he noticed our approach towards him and Alys.

"Brother!" He said awkwardly, his eyes drifting between me, Zhoe and Alys. "Wonderful day for a stroll isn't it?"

Alys, something of a very proud teenage girl from my minimal interactions with her, gave me a textbook courtesy. "Your grace, my lady."

"Why are you acting so strangely?" I asked, an eyebrow raised before looking at him then Alys. Now that I think about it, Lyam did mention that the little brother had been spotted with Alys quite a few times. "Eh, you're more than old enough. Just don't do anything stupid."

With my apparent blessing, we made our partings and left the younger couple to it. "I think it's time we returned to the castle, don't you, your grace?" Zhoe asked, seemingly amused by the entire episode that we had just come across. "As you said, your godswood is quite... small."

"On that, we can agree, my lady."

I really had no plans on eavesdropping in on Axel's little date with Alys. Doing so, would probably ruin it for him and I was actually rooting for him in this regard. Bringing the Darklyns on side would be a great boon.

Still though, I couldn't help but wonder if this was his pragmatism coming through or whether he actually likes the girl. Thinking back to how he acted when we walked into him and Alys, the answer was clear.

I smirked, to Zhoe's surprise. "Yeah... he definitely likes the girl." Stopping for a moment, I looked at my companion. "Did I say that out loud?"

She gave me a smirk of her own as she nodded.

We resumed walking whilst I calmly nodded my head. "Just so you know, I'm a rather special character."

"I suppose that would make our marriage more than interesting for both of us."

Like I said before, she definitely had a personality.

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

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ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

Apr 10, 2018

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#363

Book One - Blood In The River

10 BCE

Riverrun

In all honesty, I didn't know which one I was enjoying more. Scaring and unnerving the living daylights out of Axel by the sheer, impish grin that I was sending his way or the fact that for the first time in months, I would finally be able to feed my footie habit.

Considering that the footie habit was only being fed by nothing more than simple kick-ups instead of the full on end-to-end experience of a game of football, I was going to have to take Axel's discomfort as the most enjoyable out of the two.

That didn't stop me from making a vow to try and introduce proper football to these medieval barbarians sooner rather than later. Football is the sort of game civilised people played.

"Stop that." Said a slightly uncomfortable and peeved off Axel and if I didn't know what exactly had left him in this current state, I would be concerned and confused but I knew, thus I enjoyed it for all of its worth. "Stop looking at me like that. You are beginning to scare me."

"Scare you? Please brother, I am giving you nothing more than a look of congratulations."

"I don't really care for what your look insinuates about..." He paused for a moment, trying to find the words before giving up and just waving his hands in exasperation. He then turned his attention to me. "What even are you doing?"

The ball of pig's bladder that the castle butcher had been able to set up for me sailed to the level of my eyes before gravity took hold of it and brought it back down to earth where it was promptly kicked back up again, this time to a more manageable level of my waist.

"Kick-ups." I replied easily as I kept half my concentration on the medieval ball and the other on my continued unnerving of the little brother. "Excellent way of keeping in shape and co-ordination of the feet." Complete bull but he didn't need to know that. "And also, it's fun."

"It's undignified," he said. "for a king."

I scoffed at his words, knocking the ball made out of pig's bladder in his direction. Much to my disappointment, Axel did not start fumbling the ball around and instead, deftly caught it with little change in his posture or expression. "Like I know anything about how dignified a king is supposed to act. Face it little brother, I am making things up as I go along. We weren't exactly born royalty." I motioned to our surroundings where it was only me and him. "And anyway, it's not like anybody can see me having a little bit of fun. I need this, don't take it away from me."

I mean, to save myself from any future embarrassment, I had also practiced kick-ups in the privacy of my own solar without anybody around. A pig's bladder wasn't exactly the sort of modern football I was used to, but it was still useable enough in the task that it had been built to satisfy.

Axel might have looked a little bit guilty for a moment before the feeling passed. "Well, I suppose you are lucky I am the only one seeing you do this."

I motioned towards the ball made out of the bladder of a pig. "You should try it, it's quite fun and like I said, it helps with the footwork."

The younger Tully scoffed before throwing the ball back to me which I controlled with my chest with as much grace as I could. "My footwork receives more than enough work in the training yard."

"And I bet your stamina as well in a different yard altogether." I grinned at him knowingly, the subject back on course.

You see, being ginger meant that us Tully's had rather pale skin, which made it really easy to notice some reddening of the cheeks. "It's not like that!" He almost squealed like a wailing babe before he caught himself and coughed. "Nothing like that. Me and Alys have done nothing as much as you're implying."

"That's good. I mean, I'm rooting for you and all, but she is only three-and-ten years of age.

"So?" He asked, confused. "She has had her moonblood. She is a woman grown."

I nearly stumbled and fell right then and there, but I didn't. Notions of Westerosi culture, which to be honest, I really should know and remember from the books, escaped me from time to time. One of them being this.

Unlike males, girls were considered all grown up when they start having their periods. I... really did not want to think of the implications of something like that. The only good thing that I could say about the whole notion was that, there was enough sense amongst the people to know that survival of a child and its mother was far more likely to happen when said mother was older, like late teens older.

"Yes..." I said slowly, my lips feeling dry for some reason. "That's true, but I wouldn't really like explaining to Lord Darklyn why his daughter has been dishonoured outside of marriage."

He rolled his eyes at me. "I was never going to do anything like that. All we have shared are a few... kisses. Chaste ones at that. Nothing so scandalous for you to worry about."

The always sceptical part of me eyed him for a moment, thinking that he was fucking with me, but from what I knew about Axel, the suspicion was more than misplaced. Axel never did anything without thinking things through. In fact, I'd say he thought things through a little too much sometimes.

With that in mind, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and nodded my head. "Okay then, should I write to Lord Darklyn to beg leave for Alys' hand for my darling little brother?"

Axel shifted some from where he stood. "I'd wager it would be better for me to ask."

"She really has taken you by the balls, hasn't she?"

"She's done nothing of the sort! I just enjoy her company more than most."

"But you enjoy mine the most out of everybody."

"If that makes you feel better about yourself, you are free to believe in that." Axel moved to take a seat in the shade of a sentinel tree as he watched me go back to playing around with the ball. "Speaking of weddings, this time of those that are actually going to happen, when is yours taking place?"

"On the first day of the new year which is only two months away. You know, start the new year with a ceremony that will herald a new era for House Tully and the Riverlands." I paused for a moment. "Should we crown the Tully trout? To show that we are now a royal house? I think we should crown the Tully trout."

Axel ignored my ramblings as he frowned for a moment. "I say its better if you marry as soon as possible and sire an heir on Lady Zhoe's persons."

"I already have an heir." I said before looking around in mild confusion and amusement. "Or perhaps I have been speaking to nothing more than air for the past... gods, how many years now?"

A breeze came through the godswood, rustling the leaves that hanged loosely on their branches all around us. "Brother, you are hilarious. A crown is wasted on you, I'd favour you'd look much better in motley." He flicked away a leaf that had settled upon his shoulder. "But as much as I am honoured with your recognition of me as your heir, I'd wager that an heir borne of your body would be more comfortable to the riverlords. This was your endeavour after all, not mine."

"Which you had a significant role in." I returned settling the ball down and taking a moment to rest. My legs were becoming somewhat ache-y. "The credit for a free riverlands goes to you just as much as me and just as much as Lord Mooton and every other riverlord and riverman that rose up. If it wasn't me, somebody else was going to do it. I wouldn't place too much importance into the role that I played."

"But you did play a role of great significance, much greater than mine or any other lords!" He replied with surprising zeal and conviction. Honestly, I really didn't see why he was so into this. Like I said, if it wasn't me, somebody else would have eventually decided that enough was enough and rose up against Harren. Axel seemed to have taken notice of his outburst before calming himself down. "Or perhaps I've been mishearing and misunderstanding all those songs and mummeries that the bards and... 'actors' have been putting on, on behalf of our house. They seem to think we played quite the role."

"Well, I am paying them so they have to say nice things about us."

Once again, Axel rolled his eyes as he nestled himself deeper into the embrace of the sentinel tree. When he spoke, his voice was quite low and the confusion evident. "Sometimes, it's so difficult to understand you, brother."

I blinked at his words before I moved to his side. He seemed surprised when I threw an arm around his shoulder. "Perhaps you are thinking me far more complicated than I am when in truth, I'm just a really simple guy." The look he gave me was all I needed to tell me that he didn't believe that one little bit. I decided to change the subject. "Anyway, I'll leave you to asking Lord Darklyn for Alys' hand, when you've done that, I want you to check the progress of the towers."

Axel scrunched up his nose. "The ones that are going to be built on the road to Seagard?"

My eyebrow twitched. "That's not a road. Well, not yet, but yes, the one of the dirt path to Seagard."

"Are they really going to be as useful as you claim they are going to be?"

I gave a single, confident nod of the head. "Yes."

With the way how many SIs that I had read over the years seemed more than ready and willing to include Semaphore towers as the first thing they introduce among with a few other things, I suspect that yes, Semaphore towers were going to be very useful.

"Once again, I say can we concentrate on one thing at a time? With the way you are so willing to throw gold at everything, it seems you forget that we have loaned the gold. From the Iron Bank."

"I am concentrating on one thing. Ser Franklyn is busy at work with the roads. The roads are most important for now. Once they are properly built, they will start paying for themselves in the years to come." I looked towards the sky. "The towers? They are going to be useful to us as a quick messenger system to warn us of any impeding ironborn assault on our shores."

"An assault that you don't think will be coming."

"It's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it." I gave him a look. "I would rather not be caught by anyone with my breeches around my ankles."

"Sometimes brother, you say the strangest of things that have some merit to their wisdom." I grinned at the praise but it fell some as he continued talking. "I mean, I would be a little more eloquent with the words I say, but I suppose everyone uses words differently."

I gave him a long look this time. "I like it better when you worship the ground that I walk on."

All the little shit did was shrug his shoulders, clearly proud of himself.

I was trying to be one of those kings that was effectively involved in the affairs of their kingdom. I figured this sort of mindset would help me spot any sort of nonsense going on that I wouldn't exactly like or if someone was trying to pull something up from underneath me.

Problems being, being involved in everything was quite taxing and I suppose why delegation was created in the first. Another problem being the fact that I genuinely found nearly all of this stuff boring.

Like really boring.

"Your grace, is something the matter?"

The question brought me out of the haze that I was in and back into reality. Reality being one of the more grandiose rooms of Riverrun that was shared between me, Jaime and some new faces in Riverrun that had cost me money to get my hands on, a maester specialising in law and anthropology and two half maester with more specialist knowledge in law, Yorrick and Samwise (ha). The piles of parchment paper just lying in front of me was more than enough information to tell me what we had been doing for the last couple of hours.

What that thing was simple considering the talents of these esteemed learned men. I had tasked them with drafting me something that would be a reasonable enough code of law for the Trident. Here is the thing, over the thousands of years in Riverlands history, when there was no King of the Rivers and Hills, one of our neighbours either controlled the region or it was split amongst the other kingdoms in a suitable enough manner.

When those kingdoms came, they brought with them their own laws, customs and traditions. And when eventually the crap fest that is Westerosi geo-politics sorted out that mess by moving another power into the region, those laws, customs and traditions tended to stay, even with the newest triumvirate coming in to replace the old ones.

Of course, this was depended on the fact that the other kingdoms had stayed long enough for their own cultural inclinations to permeate into the wider society as a whole. I was pretty sure some part of the Blackwood lands personally saw to the cutting of heads for criminals by the reigning lords.

I had no proof but in my travels in that direction, I had seen enough wood stumps that looked a little... bloody.

What I am basically trying to say is, there was a criss-cross of laws, traditions and customs that could not just be left alone. It also helped that a unified central law code would help with the unification spiel I was going on and on about.

This entire thing was going to be my Napoleonic Code if you will.

I waved their concerns in the politest way possible. "It's nothing, please do continue." Most of this shit went over my head, I wasn't a lawyer, but at the very least, I could understand the basics if explained in the layman terms.

…

Oh god, lawyers were going to be a thing? They were more than likely going to be a thing.

Gods have mercy upon my soul. I was meant to make these lands better, not worse. I might just have inflicted upon them a menace far worse than Harren ever was going to be. At this rate, my name was going to be cursed far more than Harren's if that time ever came to pass.

Jokes aside though, it wasn't as if lawyers were going to suddenly sprout overnight, but I suspected that they may end up being a thing in a generation or so, maybe even quicker. This codex of mine was going to introduce trial by jury... well, reintroduce it anyway. The Faith did have something similar going on.

But now, I was somewhat getting off track and instead should make sure I kept on track. The last time my mind went on a wander, relatively minor crimes somehow ended up warranting punishments that would have made Qin Shihuangdi proud. Though I'm pretty sure as far as he was concerned, some of the punishments would be far too lenient.

My knowledge on legalism was sketchy at best, but I knew for one thing, its basis was rooted in meting out the harshest of punishments for the lowest of crimes or thereabouts.

Right, where are we... still on the subject of theft. Talking about cows now and wait a fucking moment.

"The death sentence for stealing or killing a cow?" I nearly screamed out loud. What the hell was wrong with these people? Did they all have some kind of murder boner that they carried about in their pants? "That's a bit extreme isn't it?"

For the love for all that was good and holy, a pick-pocket, if caught was liable to lose his fingers, a thief, a hand. I mean, that was fucking extreme and completely brutal to my standards. Somewhat thankfully, I had been able to talk them down from maiming people for things I considered rather soft to possible punishments being that of community service depending on how valuable the stolen item is. Although that had taken some more arguing to convince the learned men that community service was not slavery in another name.

I just simply pointed out to the practice of corvee that was practiced as an example of something that could be considered slavery but wasn't slavery.

Eventually, we agreed to the three strikes rule. Get caught for stealing three times and you are going to be losing something. Though frankly, I hoped that after the first... branding, the criminal would like to change their life for the better.

The learned men in the room looked at each other, having some sort of silent conversation that I was not privy to before Jaime pushed up his non-existent glasses and looked at me. By now, it had become clear that whenever I suggested something that probably didn't fly with the standard Westerosi mindset, it was Jaime who was going to tell me off about it. "Your Grace, the loss of a single cow to a family of smallfolk is completely ruinous to them. It might very well be a death sentence. The laws must reflect the gravity of the situation." The other maester and half-maesters nodded their heads in agreement with Jaime's statement.

I wanted to narrow my eyes in deep rooted scepticism.

I just didn't understand how one stolen cow somehow equalled in the death sentence of an entire peasant family. How did that even work?

I wanted to argue, but I got the feeling this was something that would not be moved upon by the man that had become my Grand Maester. So, in defeat, I retreated back into my seat and motioned with my hand for them to continue. "Fine. Death sentence for killing or stealing a cow. Onto the next one then..."

Maester Kevan, who the Citadel had valued as worth more than the two half-maesters, nodded his head slightly. "A sound decision, your grace. Now we move onto the matter of burning fields in times of peace. From the research we have acquired, the punishment throughout the riverlands seem to be very much the same..."

I felt the urge to slam my head onto the desk. I was going to be here until the day I die.

My life was actually hell.

Church bored me.

There, I went out and said it.

I had nothing against people who believed in a higher power of some kind. Hell, if it wasn't for the fact that I had been born a sceptic and cynic all rolled into one, I might have actually ended up being something of a believer in something instead of believing in nothing. Which, funnily enough, meant I believed in something in a roundabout sort of way. Well, that was something for the philosophers to argue about.

Because I didn't believe in God, I found Church to be boring and nothing as spiritually filling as some would take it.

And therefore, to anyone who actually knew about my views on higher powers and the likes would have been completely surprised by my willingness to actually drag myself to the closest equivalent of a Sunday service.

Of course, this wasn't because I had finally found myself a believer or anything in this new world. I was more likely to start worshipping R'hllor simply because there was some evidence to his/its/whatever the fuck it is existence than the Seven. And I'm pretty sure the old gods are even more real than the Seven and R'hllor.

Actually, weren't the old gods less gods and more like some kind of hive mind intelligence thing?

Wait a second…

I am an idiot.

How could I completely forget that there just so happened to be what might as well be the Jerusalem of the old gods right next door? If people called me an idiot right about now, I would be more than willing to admit to my idiocy.

Well, now that I knew what I was going to do as soon as possible, I turned my attention back to Byron as he gave a sermon to the assembled highborn in the newly rebuilt and redecorated septry of Riverrun that had not seen use in decades. I think he was going on about humility, piousness... and something else.

I hadn't actually been paying attention. Like I said, Church or the Faith, bored me. I was just trying to set an image here. I also knew that Byron was sending reports to the Starry Sept about me and the highborn about... well, I suspect whatever it is that would interest the Faith.

Considering the subject of today's sermon, I suspect that he found our piousness to be lacking.

I couldn't exactly blame him; this place had been empty before I had made it known that I would start attending services. A quick look around more than told me that the highborn were more than bored than I was, with the savvier ones making sure to hide their sheer boredom at this waste of time rather than making it obvious.

Alys Darklyn elbowed her younger brother on the sly when it seemed he was just about ready to yawn. Good on her keeping him in check and I would say that would lead to her eventually keeping Axel in check when they eventually got married, but my little brother just so happened to be pretty easy to keep.

He didn't need much walking or exercise and he knew how to feed himself, so she would have it easy.

Fun fact, something the Faith had something similar to holy communion, just this time, like with anything involving the Faith, the number seven took route.

Eventually, the sermon or whatever it was called, after the last of the hymns were sang or mumbled through, it came to an end. I was rather pleased to note that the young highborn that made my court had learned from the first few times to stick around for a little bit and talk amongst themselves, even if the subject just happened to be about how happy they were this entire thing had come to an end.

I wanted to leave just as badly as them, but I couldn't just do that without insulting Byron as he made the rounds amongst the young lordlings... what was the feminine version of lordlings anyway, ladylings?

Wow, was I truly that bored?

Byron eventually came up to me, arms wide open and a pleasant enough smile on his lips. "Your Grace, it is always a pleasure to see you attend my sermons about the gods!" Oh, so they were called sermons! Neat, I just learned something new today.

I touched my heart with a slightly heaping of extraness and inclined my head slowly. "The Andals have been the gods of the Tullys for millennia. I am pleased to know that this room that had seen so much over the past thousands of years can finally be used for its original purpose."

Byron bobbed his head up and down and spoke a little too loudly for just the two of us. I figured he was making a show of it to the lordlings that had been bored to death with his droning on and on about something. "Yes! Truly the gods must be respected for all that they have done for you and your people. With such a pious king, no doubt the light of the Seven shall shine brightly over your realm!"

Woah there kiddo, let's calm down now. I did not plan on forcefully brining about any sort of religious conversion on anybody. I was more than aware enough of the fate of one Humfrey Teague and his little crusade against the Blackwoods and others who adhered to the faith of the old gods.

A civil war was something I did not plan on bringing to the riverlands at all.

I just wanted you to keep writing glowing recommendations about me to Starry Sept so that the High Septon doesn't start whispering to the Hightowers who don't start whispering to the Gardeners about something that can very well threaten me.

Was I being paranoid? Probably.

Was it warranted? Definitely.

Thankfully, I had suitable enough response to this sort of leading on that was happening. A response that I had used before to devastating effect. So, I smiled a suitably enough placid smile that seemed genuine to him and said. "Thank you."

By the slight faltering of his wide smile and the hundred blinks a minute that came and went, it reminded me of the looks my last girlfriends gave me whenever I replied with a 'Thank you' when they told me that they loved me. It almost brought back feelings of nostalgia.

Byron picked himself back up though and we began to make for the exit and that was the signal for all the highborn that had been loitering around to make a beeline for the exit. They could not have filed out any faster.

That had to be some sort of record.

"Shall I be seeing you later on today then, your grace, for the sermon for the smallfolk?" He asked, still pleasant as pleasant as be.

There was a small-ish enough village around Riverrun. A village where I had ordered the construction of a sept. I had even broken the ground for the foundation. I had made it a habit to travel through the village and any other such settlements in the fief in direct Tully control just so the people would know their king and then eventually come to love me and thus throw themselves at any spears pointed my way.

I think it seemed to be going well.

Also, my occasional presence at Byron's sermons continued to attract the smallfolk into actually listening to his particular brand of bullshit. I don't know how many of them are buying into it since that was difficult enough to measure but doubted that three generations of ironborn rule had been more than enough to wipe out the Seven from living memory.

"Not today, I'm afraid." I replied with a shake of the head. "There is far too much goings on that I need to see to today, but I am sure that you shall succour the people as much as you did me spiritually."

Byron nodded his head in understanding. "Yes, I can't begin to imagine how much pressure is upon your young shoulders to rule a realm so young."

"I pray to the Father and the Smith to guide my way." I said emptily. The great oaken doors that were engraved with the Seven-pointed Star that led into the sept closed quietly behind us. I noticed my squires Perwyn and Willem standing to the side. I waved them over. "Speaking of the Smith, some time back, I found myself enlightened by his hand."

I would have figured my statement would have been taken as quite blasphemous but considering that Jaime had praised me as being touched by the Smith for some of my ideas, I eventually came to learn that inventors were actually welcomed and celebrated in the Book of the Smith. Which made it even stranger that Westeros was stuck in such a rut compared to the Free Cities if invention was welcomed.

I blamed it on the maesters. I don't know how they did it, but I was sure they were involved one way or another.

Willem carried a book in his hand with a white cover and a golden Seven-pointed Star prominent front and centre. "Here you go." The squire said as he passed of the book to the septon with little care.

Byron took it all in good stride but I felt the urge to roll my eyes and so did Perwyn by the looks of it. I know that Perwyn and Willem weren't exactly raised in the Faith, but they could have been a little more respectful about it.

The septon took the book and began to open it. His eyes widened as he flicked through the pages. "This is a copy of the Seven-pointed Star."

I nodded, quite chuffed with myself. "That it is."

"But this is not the hand of a man." He continued to say as he flicked over more and more pages.

"That it is not."

He stopped to look at me, curious. "I don't understand. How?"

Jaime and Blake coming through for me was how. They had finally been able to build me a printing press, faster than I thought it would take them. They had said something about cannibalising a winepress amongst some other things but I had been lost in my mind at the thought of a very literate population and the spreading of ideas throughout my kingdoms due to the easy availability of cheap, mass produced books.

The first book to actually be printed out was the Seven-pointed Star that was so beloved by the Faith, mostly because I wanted them to love me. I didn't plan on gifting the little bastards the press itself, but I was more than willing to give them free shipments of the books in favour of making sure that they whispered nothing but good things about me. Though I didn't quite understand why the writing in the holy book that I had bought was so archaic, still understandable, but archaic.

Oh well, it didn't really matter anyway.

I tapped the side of my noggin. "Like I said, I was touched by the Smith just recently and this is the result. I call it the printing press. It allows for the quick and easy printing of pages. I assume it takes days or even months to produce a single volume of the text." It explained why it was so costly buying one from the Reach.

Byron looked over the book, feeling it over hungrily. "It does. Months in fact, for a single such book. You said quick, your grace, I have to ask, how long did it take to print such a thing?"

"Perwyn?"

The stocky lad shrugged his shoulders some, but he kept himself straight. "Some couple of hours, your grace. They had to fix it every now and then when the press broke down."

Byron was beside himself. "Hours!" He shook his head and started feeling one of the pages. "What is this material? It's not parchment."

"That would be paper." Thank fuck for all those informative Youtube videos that taught you just about anything and everything. The Chinese recipe for paper being one. "Not the parchment paper that we know off and use, but one made out of rags and hemp and wooden barks."

"Truly?" He felt the page once more before frowning some. "A bit rough."

I shrugged sheepishly. "The technique for its making still needs some fine tuning, but it will get better with time."

With a large grin on his face, Byron slammed shut the great tome. I didn't like the way his eyes flashed as they looked upon me. "You were right, your grace. The Smith surely has touched you, all the more reason that you must be anointed in the Seven oils."

What?

Byron came to stand in front of me, at some point, passing the tome back to Willem without my noticing and clasping his hands into mine. "Your anointing would surely strengthen the conduit between you and the gods, your grace as you are accepted by the Seven and the Faith itself."

Was he trying to get me the Faith equivalent of a baptism? I don't really understand how he was able to go from me showing off the book to me suddenly needing this anointing but I'll roll with it.

So, I nodded my head. "As you say."

Byron nodded excitedly. "Yes, it must be a special occasion, in front of the lords and ladies of your realm for all to see."

I now regret rolling with it.

Hopefully, my smile wasn't as brittle as I thought it was. "Yes... it would most certainly be a special occasion."

I really regretted rolling with it.

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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TryingToBeKuw

I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

Apr 14, 2018

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#455

Book One - Blood In The River

9 BCE

Stoney Sept

Not long after Axel had walked into the room, he gave me a single appraising look before shaking his head. "You look ridiculous."

Axel hadn't been the only one to walk into the room, Lyam had been with him as well. "I think he looks rather dashing really." Our cousin said with a good-natured laugh from where he sat.

I looked down at the fine attire that I was now wearing, tugging at the mud red velvet doublet for a moment. All the while, I couldn't help but wonder how better I would look in a proper wedding attire, not this medieval nonsense, no matter how cool a half-cape looked hanging off one shoulder.

The highborn notion of always wearing your house's colours was somewhat annoying really, if the tailor had any notions, he would had had me all in silver grey, mud red and blue. Thankfully, I had been able to convince him to tone it all down a little.

The simple ensemble of the Tully colours at the moment was more than enough. I didn't go anywhere wearing pants that were anything other than dark coloured and the red breeches had seemed ridiculous, even to Westerosi notions of fashion.

All in all, it could have been worse.

"I look better than you, that's for sure."

"It seems we shall need of Jaime to have your eyes seen to, I was always the better-looking Tully."

Lyam politely held back a chuckle of good humour at the bantering between us two brothers. "Still though, today's a momentous occasion. What a way to mark the first day of the new year than with a wedding? I can't think of anything better."

"Not only a wedding, I have to deal with all that nonsense that involves Byron." I pointed out as I tugged once more at the doublet. Looking it over, it wouldn't take all that much effort really to have a proper vest made.

What can I say? I liked suits.

Instead of just introducing new ideas, I might as well spread out the sorts of things that I can very well introduce. Fashion, food... I haven't had pasta in a while or Chinese... how I miss the internet and its inherent ability to give me power as all kinds of restaurants were just at the tip of my fingers.

"We have to make sacrifices." Said Axel, his shoulders moving up and down in a shrug that was more akin to something more along the lines of 'What can you do about it?' "The Faith has influence that can be used for the good of the realm and the bad as well if we move onto their wrong side."

Lyam blew a strand of hair away from his eyes. "They now have a couple of septons and septas in Seagard. Father doesn't care much for them really, finds them to be a nuisance and he balks at the notion of granting them land that will not be taxed."

"That doesn't sound like we are trying to keep the Faith on side." I groaned as I held back the urge to run a hand down my face.

Axel agreed with me as he looked on in thought. "Byron might try to persuade you to pressure the riverlords."

"Does he think me some sort of miracle worker?" I asked, annoyed. "I'm already being anointed in front of pretty much the who's who of the Riverlands and the Hills. That should be more than enough to get him off my back about the piety of my lords."

Axel shrugged. "For now."

The Faith had only been in my life for a couple of months now, but I could tell they were already going to be something of a special hernia for me in the future. At the very least, some of my closest advisors i.e. the young adults that were still pretty much teenagers in this very room with me had the decency to play around with the notion of believing in the Seven.

"What do you think of the Seven anyway?" I asked, out of the blue.

They looked at each other in confusion. "Think... like how?" Axel asked.

"You know, believe in them."

Axel tried not to make a face, but the cooling of his features was more than enough indication of what he thought about the notion of higher powers. "If they are as benevolent as Byron and the Seven-pointed Star make them out to be, they could have been a little more helpful during the ironborn occupation."

"My grandfather once told me that many men have blood on their hands, but the gods wash themselves in it." Said Lyam out of the blue with a shrug of the shoulders. I think that was his answer on the idea of eventually coming to believe in the Seven.

I didn't know whether to be happy or especially freaked out that I might just have the most secular lords in all of Westeros. On one hand, yaaaayyy, on the other, I doubt the Faith is going to be particularly happy with the lack of donations and other shows of piety amongst the nobility.

Could the same be said amongst the smallfolk?

the beginnings of a headache were starting to make themselves known on this particular subject, so I decided to move on to better and brighter pastures. "So, when are you going to get married then Lyam?" I asked, turning my attention towards my cousin.

The fair head youth blinked. "Huh?"

Axel smirked as I continued speaking. "Well, I'm about to be a wed man this particular day, Axel is going to be married soon in the comings months, what about you then? You are older than me."

"Only by a couple of moons!" The heir to Seagard yelped out before shaking his head, a slight rosy colouring to his cheeks. "It's not as if father shares all this thoughts with me."

"Oh?" The younger Tully let out in interest, an eyebrow raised as well. "So, there is some talk of a betrothal?"

"Yes." The eagle lordling bit out for a moment before he shook his head. "He won't tell me who, but he does tell me that he is in the talks with some families about a potential bride."

"Try the Brackens." I said, thinking of that family and the number of sister's... Benjicot Bracken had. "I saw some of their daughters. They are more than comely enough."

"Hopefully, it won't be a Bracken though," Axel said, surprising us. He made a noise as we all looked at him interest. "The Brackens and the Blackwoods have a long history. Tying House Mallister and our cousin no less, to the Brackens would make it seem like we are favouring them. Despite their loss in power recently, they still are notable houses in our little realm."

"I'd wager the Darklyns would soon become a house that might come to threaten their so-called influence in our realm."

"Perhaps," Axel admitted with a shrug. "But at the moment, they seem content with their affairs in the Blackwater lands."

I ran a hand down my face. "How did we come to talk of politics once more? It should be talk of my wedding and of how suited married life is to my comport. I shouldn't be dealing with all this nonsense, just for today."

"If you believe that coz," Lyam began, a smile on his face as the colouring slowly disappeared. "then I truly pity you for then you have no idea what is to come next."

I held back the urge to throw something at my snippety cousin.

Afterwards, we made our way towards the sept from where the wedding shall be taking place. I may have been laying it on a little thick to show that I was buying to the Faith bullshit, but I had decided instead of having the wedding take place at Riverrun, that it should be held in Stoney Sept.

Unsurprisingly, the walled town had quite the religious significance to the Faith, even though much like many of the lords of the Riverlands, they just didn't care about said significance. Largely because the Faith had never actually taken anything that looked remotely like a part in their lives.

I don't think the books had actually ever expanded as to why the town was named Stoney Sept apart from the old sept that sat upon the hill some little ways of centre of the settlement. To make a long story short, Stoney Sept was the first actual proper sept to be built in the Riverlands that was not immediately torn down and burned by the First Men when the Andals were making their inroads into Westeros proper from out of the Vale.

It was probably bullshit but apparently, Ser Percival the Brave, the Andal wannabe-king had thrown back twenty-one assaults by the First Men before they decided to call it a day and that was the end of it. The most surprising thing about that entire story was the fact that the number seven wasn't as prominent as I thought it would be, I mean, twenty-one yeah, but it's no seven charges by Armistead Vance though was it?

House Percy which claimed to be direct descendants of that same very Ser Percival (unsurprisingly) had been nice enough to lend me their quite humble holdfast as lodgings until the day of the wedding. I was sure that Lady Meredyth was dreading the moment when she would have to look at their food stores when I left.

A royal wedding was a big deal.

A big deal that was more than enough reason to bring anyone that was anybody to said location of wedding. Many bastards were sure to be sired amongst the female serving women and whores in the coming days.

Hopefully, my large donation of gold for the use of her family's humble home would be more than enough to make it up for them to me. Actually, I could offer to take one of their younger children as a page or squire or handmaiden.

Axel was a knight and he was going to need a squire at some point and I was about to have a wife who might very well need said handmaiden.

Something to think about.

Our short journey towards the sept that sat rather lonely on the hill was rather slow going. Crowds had come out to chant my name, that of Axel and Lyam. That of my future wife, but most of them were directed towards our direction.

it seemed they were less cheering our wedding and more cheering us for the fact that we brought an end to the Hoares. I know the town is near the headwaters of the Blackwater Rush, but I was surprised that even a place as far away from Harrenhal or Fairmarket as this felt the cold hand of the ironborn.

Or maybe my propaganda machine was working better than I thought it was.

Stoney Sept was old and ancient. Probably one of the oldest buildings in all of Westeros according to some that was not some ancient castle or another.

Although the Percys made sure that the sept was somewhat looked to, it had still noticeable signs of disarray when I had first come to see it for myself. The whitewashed stones had stopped looking so whitewashed, the roof was falling apart and the door was barely moveable.

Some quick work had changed that to make it somewhat more presentable than it had been earlier.

The familiar sound of a cane hitting the ground attracted my attention. I already knew who it was, so I put on my best smile as I turned to face the man that was going to be officiating both my anointing of me and my wife and the wedding.

"Your Excellency!" I smiled widely with as much excitement as I could muster. "It's been far too long."

"Yes, it has." The older man bobbed his head up and down as he accepted my kiss of his wrinkled, somewhat decayed hand. As usual, Byron was once more at his side, along with that septa that I had first seen years ago.

Knowing how much I knew about how the upper echelons of the Faith worked, I really hoped that nothing... unseemly was happening between the two of them. Axel and Lyam followed suit in greeting the Most Devout with kisses of their own which the old man accepted like a grandfather greeting his grandchildren for the holidays.

"Your Grace, I must share with you the knowledge that the High Septon was most pleased that you are to be anointed with the seven oils of the Faith."

I'm sure he was. Lifting a hand to touch at my heart, I smiled softly. "It pleases my heart truly to know that."

Willis peered past me to look at my two companions to smile all grandfatherly at them. "Will you also be anointed in the oils?"

Lyam put on his best smile which to my surprise, didn't look all that different from the easy smiles he always had at the ready. "Of course, Your Excellency. The Mallisters are of Andalos and the Seven are our gods. I think it's high time that we were properly reintroduced into them."

The old man continued to smile as he talked. "Ah, what lovely enthusiasm. Perhaps it is the zeal of youth, more accepting of the world unlike that of those of us that have aged and set ourselves in our own ways."

Was he talking about Lyam's father? I think he was talking about Lyam's father.

"Yes," Lyam replied without missing a beat. "I'm still very much learning and finding myself. Hopefully, with all I have come to learn and with additional guidance from the Faith and the Seven, my quest will soon come to an end."

From what was probably the most excruciating moments of this entire endeavour, the Most Devout soon departed as to prepare for the coming ceremonies with his two lackeys. Between the three of us, we all shared a look amongst ourselves before calling it a day and headed inside the sept.

Zhoe looked stunning in her dress that showed all the right curves and grooves of her body. I was somewhat mildly amused and wondering whether it was appropriate that her dress allowed some of her... tracts of land out to pasture without any coverings.

Once more, I had to give myself a little pat on the back for a job well done. I certainly knew how to choose them.

"You look beautiful." I breathed out, trying to keep myself staring at her eyes.

A tremendous amount of willpower was needed for that act alone. Like I said, she wore a dress that garnered the right attention. Her handmaiden, her sister Joanna, seemed to be enjoying herself for my liking from the way she kept looking at me and the smile that played on her lips.

In Zhoe's case, all she did was raise an eyebrow. "Just beautiful?"

I paused for a moment. "Out of this world?"

It was then her turn to pause. "That's more like it." She brought attention to her dress of rich cloth-of-gold, velvets and silk. "Mother went out of her way to get this dress made for me. She was quite unbearable, more so than usual in that regard."

Behind her, Joanna sighed loudly. "Now, if only she would show that same amount of dedication when it comes to my wedding, then I shall be happy."

We ignored her and Zhoe bit her lip in nervousness. That surprised me. "It's alright to be nervous, I'm nervous as well." Wasn't it bad form to see the bride before the wedding? Did that custom apply here in Westeros?

Well, it was too late now.

"I'm not nervous." She said with a snort that was ladylike... if that made sense. "I just don't care for these... anointing theatrics." She whispered quietly, mindful of our surroundings and who might be listening. "The rehearsals were more than enough to tell me this was going to be a long enough day."

I cocked my head to the side. "Yeah... it's going to be a long day."

She took my hand in hers and began to lead me into the sept proper. "Might as well get this over and done with as quickly as possible. If I die of boredom by the way, I shall come back from the heavens and haunt your body and soul for it shall be your fault."

"I'm absolutely quaking in my boots with fear right now."

I wish I could say that ceremony passed by really quickly, but I would be wrong. It seemed to take forever for it to just end. The worst part was, I couldn't disappear into the recesses of my mind since I had to actively make sure that I was paying attention by the way the old Devout kept looking at me.

There were prayers and there was singing but at this time, the Most Devout had brought a choir with him to do pretty much most of the singing and praying. We lit the customary candles as one, seven candles followed by six prayers to the Seven-Who-Are-One barring the Stranger of course.

With the touch of the seven oils still moist upon our foreheads, the customary changing of the cloaks then came next and Lord Mooton was able to relieve the Mooton cloak of his daughter's shoulders with a flourish which then came my part. Taking my Tully coloured cloak, I put it around her shoulders and clasped the broach together, signifying that Zhoe was now under my care.

"With this kiss," We both began as one, loud enough for everybody in the somewhat average sept to hear. "I pledge my love!"

And like that, we became man and wife.

The wedding feast was held in the centre of the town. That was the only place that could possibly hold nearly all the dignitaries that had come for the wedding. The Starsmore's little holdfast would never have been able to hold everybody, even in their main hall.

The party was in full swing, singers were singing, dancers were dancing and musicians were doing musician things.

Though it was supposed to be a day of celebration, the work of a king was never done, especially in the current environment that I found myself in. It was a rare day indeed when pretty much all of the who's who of my kingdom was in one place, especially in such a positive environment.

In a world where Facebook or Twitter or Instagram didn't exist, I had to do some old school networking which meant talking to people face to face. And truth be told, I sort of knew that I had to do this from the get-go.

There were some people that I just had to talk to after the day's events.

"Lord Blackwood!" I smiled warmly as I neared the sourly lord who was seated in a place of honour along with that of his family. It was easy enough for me to recognise Brandon and Ser Ethan, but there were some faces I didn't recognise. I put that aside for now. "I'm glad you could make it."

The lord and his part of the table made to stand-up but I stopped them but motioning for them to keep to their seats as I dragged a spare chair to sit in front of the lord. Said lord eyed me with the usual sour look. "Your Grace, that was a nice little ceremony."

His far more amiable son laughed a little in good humour. "Believe me Your Grace, that's the highest praise father can give anyone."

I glanced towards Ser Ethan to see if he was going to say anything, but instead, he just calmly ate his food and drank his wine. Did the man speak? Like, I think I had forgotten what his voice sounded like. Actually, I don't think I remember him speaking at all.

Turning my attention away from the probably mute knight, I turned towards the Lord of Raventree Hall and his heir. "Then I'll take your word for it, Lord Brandon. How's your leg, if I may ask?"

"Better than I hoped in truth. I might be cursed to walk with a cane for the rest of my life, but at the very least, I can still ride in the lists."

I quirked an eyebrow in interest. "You're a jouster?"

He nodded confidently. "And one of the best in my humble opinion."

His father snorted. "Humility is not one of my son's greatest attributes, he's mediocre at best."

I would probably think it was bad of him to put down his son so badly right in front of people like that, but with the way that Brandon smirked, he seemed to have took the put down quite well. Was this such a reoccurring occurrence that he had learned to take what he could get from his father or was this some weird father-son dynamic that I was not getting?

Lord Blackwood might have been a bit sour, but I certainly did not get Tywin Lannister levels of parenting from my limited interactions with him. And he did seem certainly worried that one time I met him after the battle when Brandon was injured.

"I wouldn't mind riding against you at some point then, Lord Brandon." I said with a nod in his direction.

"Please your grace, I could never risk the safety of my king like that." He smirked at me devilishly. "And I wouldn't want to embarrass you like that in front of all your subjects and bannermen as well."

I laughed, I think I liked this guy.

He had to have some tough mentality to take his disability with such good humour instead of feeling sorry for himself. Considering Westerosi attitudes towards disabled people, I had expected him to be something of a mess afterwards.

"Your grace," Wyl Blackwood ground out slowly. "though I am honoured by your presence," he certainly didn't look honoured. "how can we be of help?"

I thought about it for a moment on how to best approach this. I could try and be subtle about it, but subtlety was not really my thing even though I could pick-up on said things when they are being used.

I was far blunter with my interactions with people, only being vague when I was sounding out the responses of quantities unknown. So, let's see how this goes shall we?

"I don't doubt that in the coming future, things are going to be easy for us." I began, trying to gather my thoughts and the words that I'm going to try and use. "I'm young, I don't deny that. Outside forces, perhaps even inside forces, might very well try to rend asunder this kingdom that we are building together. Many challenges are going to be thrown at us by forces unseen, using all manner of enticements, gold, crowns, titles, land... faith. To be a good king, I mean to overcome all of those with the help of all the lords that made me their king."

The older man leaned back into his seat as the shadows danced from all the open flame lanterns and bonfires around us. "Does that involve me and mine bathing ourselves in oil then? I must say, I don't find that particularly appealing."

I snorted. "Nothing for you to worry about, my lord. Despite some of the choices I have to make, the long-term stability of this young realm and its peoples is paramount on my mind, which includes respecting all the decisions and choices they have made in their personal lives."

"Why come to me about this then if we were to fear nothing?"

"I just didn't want you to get any bad notions." I shook my head. "And hopefully, apologise for any boredom you felt in the ceremonies."

"No number of apologies could make up for that torture we were forced to sit through."

"That is something that has yet to be decided, my lord."

The Lord of Raventree Hall had been my most pressing lord that I wanted to see to first. It wouldn't exactly be good for the foremost old gods worshipping house in the Riverlands to start getting a little nervous with my anointing.

I didn't want them to sell a crown to another foreign king like they did with the Brackens... or was it the Brackens who sold the crown to a foreign king? I needed to get a good read of the histories of the Riverlands first chance I got.

Leaving behind the Blackwood party, I moved through the lords, ladies and knights of all kind of birth. From high to low, talking amongst them, trying to make sure they got the best impression of me since this would be the first time meeting me for many of them.

Many of them such as Lord Gared and Lady Alysanne Darklyn who were in amiable conversation with their children who were not my 'hostages' but in fact, my squire and honoured courtier and future good-sister. Seeing them talk amongst themselves, I decided to not interrupt and decided to move on amongst the gathering of the many and the noted.

Eventually, when it felt like I was about to walk the soles of my boots off, I found myself carried onto a chair and the bedding happened. It was an interest experience... being undressed by so many women and jokes being said about the trout that hanged between my legs.

By the time we had both been left alone inside the main chambers that the Starsmore had rented out to us, I'm sure we were both very, very red in the face, me and Zhoe. The men and women were still outside our doors making all kinds of rackets.

Clearing my throat to gather myself for a moment, I looked in the direction of Zhoe, the moonlight coming through the windows giving her an ethereal shadow that clung onto her form. I nearly lost all that gathering I had taken a moment to gather. "Eh, right, my lady, I know custom dictates for us to shag like rabbits, but I do not mean to let that alone force you into something you do not wish to do."

She didn't say anything for a while, the bawdy jokes still drifting into the room before she finally spoke up. "...Shag like rabbits?"

I blinked... did they not use that term in Westeros? I'd have figured shag would have very much been in the local vocabulary.

"Eh fuck, my lady." Said I. "Fuck."

"Oh." She let out in realisation. She shifted some on her feet, nervousness perhaps? "That's very... noble of you." It was nice to know that my modern sensibilities were considered noble in these parts. Somehow, that did not surprise me at all. "But your nobility is not welcome at this particular moment, my lord."

An eyebrow found itself up my brow. "It's not?"

"No." She stepped forward into the light fully. To my credit, I didn't look at anywhere other than her face. She took my hand into hers just like she did at the sept. "Custom dictates that after we have been wed, we should bed together. It's still early in our relationship, your grace, me coming to know you and you, me, but at times like this, we both have our duties and I know mine very well."

With that, she led me towards the bed.

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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TryingToBeKuw

TryingToBeKuw

I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

Apr 17, 2018

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#473

Book One - Blood In The River

9 BCE

Riverrun

I had once read somewhere on the internet a quote about someone, I just couldn't remember who, said that it was easier to build the institutions of government than to change them. They probably had a point. I mean, I had read enough attempts at reform of various governments from ancient history to modern times to know that most often than not, any form of reform tended to end up failing rather than actually achieving anything.

Thankfully, Harren wasn't exactly interested in building anything remotely resembling any sort of government institute as he concentrated most of his time and effort on building that thing he called a castle.

Actually, it seemed none of the previous three generations of Hoares had at all been interested in building anything that resembled government institutions at all. It was strange.

I thought Harwyn was smarter than that or perhaps he was smart as in the warrior-king mould rather than the bureaucratic mould.

Therefore, the ironborn had mercifully left the building of institutions to me.

Although it was debatable whether it was a mercy or a curse in the first place. I suppose it would be easy building said institutions for a learned society since there was a pool of literate people to hire to carry out the various duties of government. Unfortunately for me, Westeros did not have much of a learned society that could either read or write.

Sure, I was trying to change that, but it was definitely going to take time. Time as in decades, which was a really long amount of time.

Don't get me wrong, my household staff was more than competent and able enough in their various duties in helping me making sure that everything was running smoothly as possible. For a fiefdom that is and definitely not for a kingdom, especially for one that is probably around the size of Germany plus a few other smaller countries in the mould of Luxemburg or the Netherlands.

So, I needed learned men. That meant that I had to acquire the help of all the Scribes Guilds. All of them and all their internal infrastructure that they had built to sustain themselves.

There was a guild of scribes in pretty much every major settlement in my new kingdom. From Duskendale to Seagard. Maidenpool had one. Fairmarket had one. The place I got married at, Stoney Sept had one. Basically, any place with a population that would allow itself to be called a town had a Scribes Guild.

The more powerful and influential guilds were located in the larger towns that were soon going to be cities in the mould of Duskendale, Antlers and Seagard.

I had made it my mission as of right now to somehow bring all these guilds together and form them into one massive organisation called the civil service. It wasn't as if they would be doing something that they didn't usually do anyway.

It was the guilds that mostly supplied and trained the administrative staff of the various nobles and knights that held land. And from my knowledge of history, when the printing press soon spelled their doom, the scribes branched out into other professions such as journalists, lawyers, public servants etc etc.

I was introducing the printing press and hopefully, the typewriter in the future. I was spelling their doom and I was very much giving them a way out that would allow them to continue doing what they were doing in a more controlled environment with an employer that valued them for what they were doing.

It wasn't as if they could complain to their lords anyway. Certain charters I had given to said lords stipulated that I had rights to their guilds, something they agreed to without a second thought.

"Greetings, gentlemen!" I greeted loudly and cheerfully to the gathering of guild masters. Kevan who had arranged this whole thing and the person I had retroactively made head of said service that was soon going to be built when I was done stood beside me. A quick glance over the gathering of men told me that there was about a good dozen or so of them and the vast majority of them looked like what I would expect said people who were scribes to look like. "I'm quite thankful that you have all decided to come and meet me in such a short amount of time since the summons. Hopefully, they weren't too much of a convenience."

This gathering had been months in the making, but the little quip was more than enough to garner a few small smiles and lighten up the air a little more than it already was. Even if it had been a little inconvenient for them, it still wouldn't have mattered. As long as they didn't have some sort of noble title, I could literally do what I want with them, but I was going to be nice because I recognise the value of the work they did.

And I also wanted to be on their good side considering I was conscripting them and their fellow professionals.

A happy worker was a productive worker.

One of the guild masters stepped forward, wearing spectacles. Surprising? Very much so. I had figured spectacles were a Renaissance thing. He must have at some point, spent some time in the Free Cities then.

"You have nothing to be apologising about, Your Grace. A royal summons is something many of us would have never thought to ever receive in our lives."

It probably wouldn't have ended well for you then if Harren had summoned you, I figured. I gave the man my most brilliant smile. "Thank you, my good man..." I trailed off for a name.

"Lucas Wright, Your Grace," he answered with a respectable bow that had something of a flourish to it. He continued speaking as he raised himself from the bow. "I head the guild in Duskendale."

I made a note to remember the name Lucas from Duskendale. Since I didn't want to seem like a dick, I asked the rest of them for their names. I was probably going to forget them all since I doubted I was going to have much prolonged contact with them apart from a couple but doing such a thing never hurt.

It made it seem as if I cared.

"I suppose many of you are wondering as to why I had been enquiring after your services and the answer is simple really. I am in need of those services you provide." I just wasn't about ready to tell them yet that I had essentially fucked their way of life with something of an invention of mine. "Frankly gentlemen, running a kingdom is not easy. Some of the many duties required for the running of a realm as vast and new as ours needs a pool of talented, skilled and educated men such as yourselves."

A little flattery here and there never hurt anybody and judging by the fact that some of them were close to beaming with their puffed-out chests full of pride at their duties being acknowledged of their undeniably vital services to every settlement and house they found themselves in. Even if the lords didn't care much for the finer nuisances of counting copper and associated tasks.

"I have yet to come across many men of your likes that are skilled in areas of dictation, bookkeeping and the keeping of records of judicial, historical and mercantile." I flashed them an easy smile as I prepared to throw more flattery in their direction to bring them in on side. "It also doesn't hurt that many of you make sure that nothing but the highest quality of work and standards are kept within your guilds."

We had met outside Mikken's workshop that over the months had slowly expanded into a large barn like structure. Was it a waste of space? No. Considering the stuff I had him, Blake and Jaime working on, the structure made it easy that nobody saw anything or reported anything that they were not meant to see.

Only myself, those three and Mikken's trusted apprentices were allowed inside. It was guarded twenty-four seven and if someone was caught who was not any of the mentioned people, they were going to need a very good excuse as to why they were there. I liked to keep my secret weapons, secret.

I motioned to those said guards to open the doors to the barn in a slow and deliberate manner that we had practiced thoroughly before the arrival of the guild masters. I continued speaking as the doors were opened behind me. "See, we have recently come across a device that might very well put many of your lifehoods at stake and that is something I cannot abide by. Thus, I thought of offering you all an opportunity, for growth, for change and perhaps even more in the future."

With the doors fully open behind me, I motioned at the guild masters to follow me as I headed inside the building, Kevan at my side. Dozens of feet fall could be heard as we made our way inside, leading them towards the printing press and its operators who stood at the ready beside the machine.

One of the guld masters, Bernard looked at the printing press after my directing the attention towards it with interest. He then asked the all-important question. "Pardon me for asking Your Grace, but what is it exactly that we are looking at?"

"Good question, Bernard," the fact that I remembered the man's name seemed to make him stand straighter than he already was. Ignoring that, I grinned in a way that showed that I was more pleased with myself rather than a more... predatory one. "We call it the printing press because it has one function in truth."

A look from me got one of the apprentices, Karl to work at the press for this particular demonstration. The first printing press wasn't bad, but it wasn't exactly good either, but with time and experience, slowly, improvements were being made.

From the first time that we had used the press, it seemed like it was getting quicker and quicker to print things out each time.

Karl walked towards me with a single piece of paper that was about the size of a leaflet. "Your Grace."

Taking it, I gave a nod to the burly young man. "Thank you." The leaflet was then passed amongst the gathering men for them to see upon their doom slowly approaching them. "As you can see, the press allows us to reproduce the elements of a document onto another document in less time than it takes doing so by hand. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it would take more than a year for your copyists to reproduce a book the volume of the Seven-pointed Star, yes?"

Some of them nodded to my question as they all seemed to be in a daze as the leaflet was passed around them. I was sure the implications were already coming at them like a train that was running loose.

"Well, with a trained enough crew, the press and not just this one, but hundreds of others with the same capabilities, then you are looking at hundreds of pages in days, perhaps even hours. Enough," I motioned to the side where a stack of books had been left lying around. Quite the big stack to make my point. "To recreate the entirety of the Seven-pointed Star in just some days."

Jaws were beginning to drop and thankfully, I wasn't worried about flies flying into said jaws.

I was definitely exaggerating with some of the capabilities about the current press, but I wasn't exactly lying outright. The press did hold the capability to eventually fuck them over badly and be able to print out thousands of such books in mere hours when it stopped breaking down as much as it did.

"We have also taken the workings of such a machine and are thinking of somehow making it smaller, portable for the travelling man." I might not have a computer anymore, but goddammit, I came from a generation that typed more than it wrote. I was still trying to get used to using quills and writing things down. A typewriter was no computer, but it was definitely something. "It's still very much early days, but I have been told with enough time, it can very much be doable."

Eyes quickly drifted from the stack of books, to the printing press, then to me and although I wasn't quite sure, I could imagine that in their heads, something resembling a printing press was hanging itself onto the walls of their minds. Their days were numbered and they could see it.

Lucas Wright quickly stepped forward. "Your Grace, how can my guild be of service?" Bernard and the others were quick to start clamouring and making noises as well as they tried to get in on it.

Beside me, I could hear Kevan sigh tiredly at the sight in front of him whilst Karl and the other apprentices looked a little amused at the sight whilst it was all so very difficult from keeping the smile on my face turning into a predatory grin.

It was slightly over a week when the king's men arrived. They arrived sometime after noon when the day was hottest. They were led by two men at the front whilst behind them was a cart driven by a drought horse on the road that passed through their little village. They had been spotted some leagues beforehand by some of the younger lads who had quickly spread the news when they came back from the village.

Quickly learning of their imminent arrival, Forrest had quickly packed the little belongings that he had that he could call his own.

As he made his way towards the road where the king's men were going to pass through, he could hear the worry in his mother's voice when she spoke. "Do you 'ave to go?"

Forrest held back a sigh in the back of his throat. This was already a conversation that they had had many times before, ever since the first rider came through their village telling them that their new king was looking for able bodied, young men to defend their newly freed realm. "I've already pleadged meself to the king an' his banner." He smiled weakly at his mother, even though her eyes made him weak at the knees and question himself. "Besides, it's honest work with good pay and board as well."

"Fighting some man's wars." She replied quietly, looking around at the other young lads that had the same idea as him. "You could stay you know? Help your pa, brothers and sisters with the farmin'."

But he didn't want to farm? Could his mother not see that? Or perhaps it was just the worry for him that blinded her to his own desires. He didn't want his life to be nothing more than planting crops and waiting for the next harvest. He didn't want to live his life and die in a small village without seeing the world. Of what was beyond the hill in the distance.

Service with their brave new king, one that was a riverman at that! One of their own and not some foreign invaders that had come to rape and plunder like the ironborn had done. The singers had been all so exciting... stirring something deep within him...

"I want to do this mother," he said as they came to the road. He saw that many lads from the village had also taken to going with the king's men. "It's something that I have to do. I'll be fine, honest." Forrest thought that he said that more for himself rather than her.

He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't a little scared of this great undertaking he was about to go on.

"But..." His mother was close to tears.

If she cried now, he would change his mind, that he knew, so he resolved himself. "I promise I'll visit. The ser said something about us receiving this 'leave' to visit every now and then."

Mother looked at him longer than he would have liked, but eventually, she relented. "Fine then, just take care of yourself okay? Just come back to me." They hugged then, maybe for far longer than would have been appropriate in front of so many people, but he didn't care. She deserved this as something of a parting gift before they met again when he returned.

When they parted from the hug, Forrest gave his mother one last smile before he turned and began to make his way towards the column of men. As he neared the column, he glanced back at his mother and gave her one last smile for the gods only knew how long he was going to be away.

"Hey you!" Forrest stopped to look at the back of the cart where a man sat, pointing in his direction. Confused, he thumbed at himself and a flash of annoyance came across the man's face. "Yes, you! Who else am I pointing to? Get over here!"

Timidly, he made his way to the back of the cart where the man sat. "W-What can I do for you, my lord?"

The man snorted. "I'm no lord, but you can very much address me as ser and what I want from you, is a name." The man then pulled out a ledger and quill. He dipped his quill into some ink before looking at him with a half-bored look. "So, what's your name?"

Forrest swallowed back some saliva nervously. "Forrest, ser."

The man nodded as he gave a quick look over through the ledger before frowning for a moment. "You're the third Forrest from this damned village." He heard the man mutter as he scratched the quill onto the ledger.

Forrest nodded. "Yes ser. There's me, Big Forrest and Little Forrest. Everyone calls him Forry though."

The man stopped for a moment and gave him a dead-eye look. "I didn't ask and neither do I care, boy."

Forrest shrank into himself a little. "Apologies, ser."

The ser continued scratching the quill into the insides of the ledger before he asked him a question. "What does your father do? Don't tell me he's a farmer." Forrest went to open his mouth before closing it when he took in the entirety of the ser's words and closed it immediately. The man noticed. "He's a farmer, isn't he?" Forrest nodded his head sheepishly. "Of course, he is." The ser sighed before shaking his head. "Alright, let's see now... your name's Forrest and forests have trees which have Wood." He traced the quill up and down his ledger and smiled and nodded to himself, pleased about something. "Congratulations Forrest, you just got yourself a last name. From now on, your name is Forrest Wood of Wexley."

The ser carefully ripped some paper out from the ledger before passing it to him. "Take that if you ever want to see your village again." See his village again? That made his heart skip a beat for a moment. "Remember, you are Forrest Wood of Wexley. Wexley." He repeated deliberately. "Wexley, understood?"

Wexley, Forrest told himself as he nodded his head. "Understood, ser." He said as he tucked the paper into the insides of his breeches.

The man nodded before he waved him off. "Good, then go join the rest of the column. Off with you boy."

He didn't need to be told twice as he scurried away as fast as possible, all the while, he couldn't help but go over what had just happened to him. He was now Forrest Wood, why, the name sounded almost lordly like. Forrest would have never thought that someone as lowborn as him would ever have a second name.

The only people that he knew had such names were those of high birth and him having such a name made him feel all kinds of butterflies within the depths of his middle.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he saw someone waving at him from the column and he smiled to himself as he saw a friend of his among the young men that had answered their new king's call.

"Arry!" He breathed out excitedly as he moved next to his fellow villager and joined him in the column.

Arry grinned at him as he wrapped a thick arm as massive as a tree trunk around his neck and brought him in close. "By the gods Forrest, am I happy to see you! I'd wager I thought I was going to be left with Forry and Big Forrest for the company and you know how fun those little shits are."

Forrest wouldn't exactly call his fellow Forrests small by any chance, but everybody must have been small to Arry. The fact that he had to crane his neck up to get a good look at his face was more than enough showing of such a thing.

Once upon a time, Arry had been the thinnest and shortest of some of the boys of the village, yet somehow, over the years, he had grown to be nearly a whole head taller than him and long hours working the fields had made sure that his body had grown hard with muscle.

Even as his arm gently rested itself upon the back of his neck and shoulders, Forrest could feel the strength behind them. "Is it just the five of us then?" Forrest asked. "I mean, the ones pledging ourselves to the king."

Arry shook his head. "Saw a couple o' the othe'r lads from the village in the line. Didn't see you though, thought you had turned craven."

Forrest scoffed. He might have felt some rumblings in his tummy, but he was anything but craven. "Craven? Me? Never."

A wide grin that showed all of Arry's teeth came to the front. "Good, when I make a name for myself, I'll need you round to be my personal servant. Telling everybody of how brave I am."

He playfully elbowed the larger lad in the side. "I think you mean my servant instead, lad." He might have been a little nervous before hand, but being in the company of a good friend had slowly started erasing any of the doubts and nervousness that he had been feeling.

After the ser had taken the names and gave names back to a couple more lads from the village, he heard a shrill sound before the cracking of a whip coming from the front. Then slowly but surely, they started moving along the road towards their next destination.

The village people waved and called out to their loved ones, whether they saw them or not, they continued to shout out. Forrest even noticed some of the others in the column that had faces that he couldn't place from his village grinning and waving back. Some of the younger children in the village even walked or ran beside them as they made their way out.

It didn't take long for him to note that they weren't in the village anymore and were now on the road outside. It then hit him that he was leaving. He was leaving the life he had known for the entirety of his life for something new. Something unknown and something dangerous.

"This your first time outside the village?" Arry asked quietly, but loud enough to be heard of the din of chatter that was happening to the front and behind them.

"I've been outside the village before Arry, y'know that."

"Not like that," Arry said, shaking his head. "But out, out. Like as we are now. Going far away."

Forrest didn't answer and that was all Arry needed.

Their caravan travelled for three days. Forrest passed fields full to bursting that had not yet to be harvested or the same kind of fields that were being harvested. They passed blue streams and rivers, great plains that seemed to disappear forever into the distance, rolling that went up and down as they passed. Whenever Forrest looked too long at them, he would sometimes feel bile rising up to the back of his throat and his head swim, then he would look away.

What a strange thing, these hills did to him.

On their journey, they were joined by other caravans, none of them larger than the one he had joined, but at the end of it all, when they joined, the caravan became a long winding snake made of hundreds, perhaps even thousands of souls that seemed to stretch on forever. In all his life, Forrest had never seen so many people before.

It was a sight to behold, especially at night when took to camp and resting for the next leg of their journey. Thousands of campfires could be seen lighting the fields they rested in.

"How long are we going to walk?" Lesley of Goole complained as he rubbed at the bottom of his feet to ease the ulcers that had come some. "We've been on t'road for days now."

Lesley was a thin reed of a boy. He was a boy although he would declare to anybody and anyone that he was a man. His claim to manhood being that he had fucked some farmer's daughter back in his village.

He talked about that particular daughter a fair few times that Forrest knew the story from the back of his hand... though some of the details, small as they were, seemed to change every now and then that Forrest had come to wonder whether this farmer's daughter existed at all.

Tim, from Goole as well shook his head as he poked at the fire they sat around. "I hear it's not long now."

Lesley didn't believe him as he thrust a thin hand in his direction. "And how would you know?"

Tim shrugged as he continued to poke the fire. "One hears things, if one listens hard enough."

Now that Forrest thought about it, Tim always seemed to disappear every now and then when they sat up camp. Perhaps he went and talked with the others?

Arry let out a burp as he leaned onto an arm. "I hear the same things as well. Heard one of the sers talking that it was another days or so journey. Depends on how fast we move." The biggest of the lot of them looked around the fire they sat lazily. "So, all you got that fancy second name like some highborn as well?"

Lesley grinned widely as he held himself up straight. "That I did! A proper lordly name as well, mine is!" He made a bow with something of a flourish. "You may now refer to me as Lesley Tupper of Goole!"

Forrest thought that his own second name of Wood was better than that of Lesley's... there was something about Tupper that just didn't sound as good as his own.

"What about you then, Tim?" Arry asked the other lad.

The lad shrugged. "Hunter, on the condition that my father happens to be a hunter." Forrest still thought his name was better, but he had to admit, there was a certain appeal to the name Hunter. "What about you two?"

Arry grinned widely as he sat up flexed the muscles of his arm and slapped it proudly. "Arry Strongman! The ser took one good look at me and gave me the right and proper name that is."

The urge to roll his eyes was great indeed. Arry had been bragging about that name since he last told him, by now, it was quite annoying to hear him speak of it. Forrest though smiled when it came to him. "Mine happens to be Wood."

Tim rocked his head side to side in a thoughtful manner, though he did look somewhat amused by something. "Forrest Wood... I suppose the sers don't lack much in imagination."

Lesley looked around the lot of them for a moment. "You think that if we sire children, they will keep the name?"

That was actually... a good question. They looked amongst themselves for a moment, trying to see whether someone would step up and answer the question but no-one did. Eventually, no-one answered the question and they all decided to sleep for the next day's journey.

Arry hadn't been wrong.

When they had sat out in the morning, they could see their destination in the horizon, though at first, it seemed nothing more than an undefined object in the distance, further away than he could make out with his eyes, and Forrest had good eyes. Even as the days passed, the object didn't seem to get any closer until some days in before it became more and more obvious what it was.

Forrest had passed some castles on since he had left his village, but this castle put them all to shame by the sheer size of it. He had never felt so small in his life. Its shadows had come to blanket them long before they had reached its walls.

They walked down a road that led to the castle that had been trodden upon by thousands of feet already that it had surely become a permanent fixture upon the land. How many feet had walked upon this ground? How many were not his or from the caravan that he had come with?

As they walked down the road towards the castle, something reached his ears, growing louder and louder with each passing moment.

Walk on through the wind,

Walk on through the rain,

Though your dreams be tossed and blown.

Walk on, walk on,

With hope in your heart,

And you'll never walk alone.

As they passed through the castle's gates after what seemed to be eternity for how deep the castle gates seemed to go on and on for, Forrest craned his neck slightly to follow where the song was coming from. He saw a group of men-no, soldiers as they ran past, each repeating verses of that strange song. He had never heard that song before, but Forrest had not heard many songs in his life.

Then the noise was the next one to hit him. It was thunderous, like a thousand voices clamouring for attention to a single man. It was the sounds of shouts, orders and responses. The shouts of beating hooves and feet on the ground as horses rode and men marched. The sounds of hammers striking metal. It was just never ending. He wondered how anyone could sleep with this much noise happening all at once.

He couldn't help but wonder what he had got himself into. Perhaps his mother had been right. Perhaps he should have been happy with the idle village life that had been destined for him.

Eventually, they were brought to a square and were left to be idle by themselves before they were separated into blocks of a hundred men and were led away by a knight or a lordling. Thankfully, the gods had been smiling upon him and he found himself in the same group of a hundred boys and men with Arry, Tim and Lesley. Lads he could call friends.

"Nervous?" Arry whispered confidently as they marched in formation. He could feel the weight of some of the older men staring at them as passed, heading towards what had been called their barracks.

Within the walls of this castle, he felt even smaller which made him even more nervous, nonetheless, he shook his head to clear it and that of the weight of the stares. "I'd be a fool if I wasn't." It was more along the lines that he was questioning everything about his life and the decisions that he had made to arrive at this very moment in time.

Tim stifled a yawn from the other side of him. "I suppose that means you are a smart one then. That's good." The world had surely gone mad then if a lad younger than him was handling all this better than him.

They arrived soon enough at their 'barracks' which to his surprise was an empty plot of land. The lordling that had led them here made his way towards a small desk and stood upon it, to elevate himself above the rest.

Forrest was surprised to see that the lordling didn't seem to be all that much older than them. He would wager that the lordling had them by only a few years. This was his first time seeing a highborn so close, but he could feel the confidence and prestige that came from one so superior than him, even as he looked them over with a cool, confident look.

He would have to try his best to make sure that he would not embarrass himself in front of the lordling lest he bring shame upon himself and his family.

The lordling was handed a cone like thing that he had never seen before by a grizzled man that stood beside him and cleared his throat before bringing the device to his lips and spoke. "Greetings!" The lordling spoke through the cone and much to Forrest's surprise, found that the lordling's voice being carried well enough all the way to the back of the formation where he stood. "My name is Francis Charlton of House Charlton and the good ser beside me is Ser Wex Rivers. You have all answered the call by our good rivermen king, His Grace, King Edmyn, the Liberator of the Riverlands from the cruel rule of Harren the Black, the Hoares and cruel hand of the ironborn. But just because our good king has sent those ironborn scurrying back to the seas does not mean our independence is guaranteed. To the west, we have the Lannisters salivating at the thought of raping and pillaging our land for its fertile fields, and the same could be said for the blasted savages of the frigid north. To the east, we have the Arryns they would speak of honour, but that won't stop them from coming down their mountains to rape our lands, sisters, mothers and wives.

"Then to the south, we will have to contend with the depredations of the Reach and Stormlands. We have just freed ourselves of one foreign tyrant and have one of our very own as our king! No distant king in the Stormlands, the Reach, Westerlands, Vale or the North! But right here, in the Trident itself! And he asks you, men of the Trident, to protect our freedom by taking up arms in the defence of our homeland! Will you take up that cause he asks of you?"

Unbidden from his throat, a roar of "AYE!" Escaped from Forrest's throat and he was glad that he wasn't the only one that had screamed as so as everyone else had screamed the same. He puffed his chest out as he straightened his back. He had never thought about it really.

His mother and nan had told him and his siblings tales about Harren and the ironborn. About how if they were naughty, they would come to take the menfolk away to be sacrificed to their demon god and the womenfolk to be raped and made saltwives. Sometimes, mother had even frightened him and his brothers about how Harren would like to deprave himself with sons and fathers as well.

Forrest prayed to the gods at the godtrees for thanks that they had lived nowhere near a river large enough for one of their longships.

The lordling continued speaking after a moment to take in the roars of agreements that he had been met with. "Good. It shall be the job of me, Ser Wex and the sergeants you see around you to turn you from the farm boys that you are into soldiers that would gladly defend the Trident from any who would dare threaten or take away our freedom!" He motioned to the empty plot of land around them. "As you can see, there is nothing here. Do not be alarmed, this here shall be where we build our barracks. What better way for young men to bond than through honest, hard work of the likes of building their home?" He said with a smile that a few ripples of laughter to spread through the ranks. "But until then, making and setting up camp shall have to suffice, but before that," he motioned to the side where he saw several men awaited them. "I think many of you are in need of a shave."

As the young lord had said, many of them had needed a shave. It didn't matter whether they had hair growing on their chin or not, hair was cut atop their heads down to a close shave that left nothing but whiskers. For the first tie, Forrest could say that he could feel the breeze of the wind atop his head.

And with that, his first night as an enlisted soldier of the Royal Host ended with him setting up camp in their empty plot of land, seating around a fire with Arry, Tim, Lesley and other men of their company.

The coin hanged in the air for what seemed like eternity as it did some sick three-sixty degrees spins, catching rays of light in all the right places. Eventually, gravity decided that it had had enough of that bullshit and pulled it back down to earth.

Well, it would have been earth if it wasn't for the fact that my hand was in the way when I caught it in the flat of my palm. I shifted the coin to be held between my index and middle finger and brought it close to my face for a closer examination.

The coin was gold, not coloured gold, but actual gold, weighted and in the shape of a septagon. I don't really know why I decided to go with that shape, but it was something that could probably be spun quite well with Byron and the Faith.

On one side was a likeness of me and the other, a trident was shared with the Tully trout.

It was rather nice coming to learn that mines existed in the riverlands, which really wasn't all that surprising learning that most deposits were located either in the Western Mountains or the Mountains of the Moon.

The coin was but just one of several that I had seen, all of various denominations. "They are better than I thought they would be."

"For all the time it took into their design, would anything else be expected?" Lord Mooton rhetorically asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," I replied anyway despite the rhetorical nature of the question. "I suppose not."

Placing the coin back onto the desk beside its brethren, I gave them a quick glance over. The gold coin was just going to be the first of actual proper Trident currency that was going to be introduced into the realm.

Considering that my new-found kingdom seemed to somehow seemed to operate on the use of currency of how continental Europe did during the Dark Ages that any and every currency was okay to be used within its borders, I didn't think that would fly. It also didn't hurt that the introduction of a currency minted in the Trident proper would help continue to secure this throne of mine.

In regards to the currency, I had decided to go with what I was used to and had decided to call the new currency the pound sterling. My understanding of that particular branch of economics was iffy at best, but I knew that it was going to be time until people started trusting the new currency that I was introducing compared to the Golden Lions of the Lannisters, the Hands of the Gardeners, the Stags of the Baratheons and the Talons of the Arryns.

But hey, this was still better than nothing right?

The gold coin was the most valuable and thus had the right to call itself the pound, whilst the silver coin was the second most valuable whilst the copper coin was the least valuable which I had dubbed the penny. I was still trying to figure out a suitable name for the silver coin.

Eh, I was sure something would eventually pop up.

"Lord Mooton, how well would you know the merchants based in Maidenpool?" I asked as thoughts of currency were put to one side for now.

"There are many merchants in Maidenpool that ply in different trades. I'm afraid you shall have to be a little more specific."

Well, I would grant him that. I propped an arm onto the desk. "Well, those involved in sea trade then."

The lord hummed for a moment. "Quite well I would suppose. The tariffs such merchants bring in are quite significant to the revenues of Maidenpool and their particular faction of the merchant's guild is quite influential."

"So, you would know the most trustworthy of such merchants and captains?" The lord nodded at my question and I rose up from my seat. "Please my lord, follow me. I might have need of you just somewhat outside your purview."

Interested, the soft-spoken lord followed me from my office. My goodfather was a man of few words and it made all the rather difficult to tell whether he liked me or not, but I was on the mind that he was a fan of me.

The fact that I just happened to have made one of his, a queen probably increased my reputation points with him into the positives, even more so now that said daughter of his who was a queen was soon to give birth to a child that was half trout, half salmon and a future king if it was a boy.

Apparently, me and Zhoe's frolicking during the early days of our marriage was more than enough to get her with child. Not all that surprising really, the Tully trout was a capable enough swimmer by the sounds of it.

Eventually, I led him into the underground rooms that had been set aside for the valuables that had been brought from Harrenhal. The haul of treasure from that ridiculous monument to ego had been large enough that some of the dungeons had to be converted into additional storage rooms and the worst or probably the best part of this? There was still more of the stuff coming in.

It was now just borderline ridiculous.

With the number of valuables coming in, I had wondered whether it had been at all necessary to get a loan from the Iron Bank but well, the more money for the better use of the realm, the better then.

"Manfred!" I greeted with an equally loud voice and smile to the treasurer who was busy at work directing a group of helpers here and there.

The treasurer stifled a jump at my sudden calling of his name before quickly turning around. "Your Grace. Apologies for all this, but I did not expect you today." He said as he and his helpers quickly threw themselves into bows at my sudden appearance.

"Yeah..." I began sheepishly. "I should have probably sent word in advance, my mistake but there was someone I think you should meet as you will probably be working together rather closely for the foreseeable future." I stepped aside to bring attention to Lord Mooton who had been standing somewhat behind him. "Lord Moon, allow me to introduce you to Manfred Flood. A man who has been serving my house faithfully for some time now."

"Two decades, but yes, as the king says, I have been skulking in the dungeons for some time now." The treasurer quipped which in truth, showed how familiar and at ease he was with me after being initially rather stand-offish.

"He used to skulk in finer offices than this." I said with some impish delight.

Jon Mooton merely inclined his head in the direction of the man. "A pleasure. Ser Paege has spoken well of your bookkeeping abilities."

Manfred smirked. "I would hope so!" He stopped for a moment to turn back to his helpers and waved them on to get back to work as he continued our conversation with us. "What can I do for you, Your Grace?"

I smiled at the two men as I leaned on one of the walls. "Well, it's quite simple really. We happen to have assets that I have no use for but can't easily be turned into coin. Therefore, you and Lord Mooton here are going to get in touch with some merchants in Maidenpool who would be willing to sell the Myrish rugs and the likes to the markets in Braavos, Pentos, Lys or wherever for coin for a commission of course."

I had use for the chandeliers made out of gold and silver, but I didn't have much use for the rugs from Myr and the various silks from Lys and cottons from Pentos. It was simply better for my treasury if they were just sold as commodities, problem is, I doubted there was enough merchants or houses in the Trident that had the necessary coin to buy said commodities for their actual values and I wasn't really willing to sell at a loss.

Therefore, an idea had come to mind to just sell said commodities in places where it was more than likely that their value would be appreciated. All I needed was the people with the right skills and trustworthy enough to be given such a task.

And that is where Lord Mooton and his knowledge of the sea-faring merchants of Maidenpool came in.

Continuing to smile at the two, I spoke. "Basically, between the two of you, I want you to sell anything that I can't melt and be made into more coins for the realm apart from the objects that I have marked out to have my interest. I'm sure between the two of you, the finer details would be sorted out pretty quickly."

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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TryingToBeKuw

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TryingToBeKuw

TryingToBeKuw

I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

Apr 20, 2018

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#499

Book One - Blood In The River

9 BCE

God's Eye Lake

I had once thought the God's Eye to be a stagnant lake, don't really know why I did to be honest. The lake fed into the Blackwater Rush, that meant that a constant flow of fresh water had to be in play. So, I suppose one would have to wonder why I thought the lake stagnant? Simple really. The lake was an eerily green-blue colour that I had come to think of it without much thought as stagnant.

Speaking of freshwater, did the lake have an underground feed of some kind? There probably was that considering that the dozens upon dozens of wells inside the grounds of Harrenhal had to be connected to some fresh water source of some kind. Sometimes, the buckets would even feel as if they being moved by some sort of current in some of the wells.

Perhaps an underground river of some kind? Wouldn't really surprise me really. I happened to be in a land whose one direct description happens to be the fact that it was littered with more rivers than anything else.

That would explain why despite the odd, probably some magic bullshit, colours of the water seemed to give it some sort of fresh enough allure that I was almost obliged to drink from it without boiling it first.

Almost.

Just because the God's Eye looked pretty and a had a nice smell to it wasn't enough to make me forget that I had seen people bathe in these waters during the short-lived siege of Harrenhal among other things, like shitting into it.

There was an early morning fog that shrouded our destination with an otherworldly visage, but not enough to deter me from the journey that I was embarking on. The only sounds that could be heard from the lake were the sounds of early morning bird songs and the dimming sounds of crickets chirping as the sun slowly rose from the east. The crickets and birds themselves taking note of the burning ball of plasma as time for a shift change in who can be the most annoying for the day.

The other sounds belonged to my motley group of fellows that I had decided were trustworthy enough to come with me to the Isle of Faces based on various determining factors such as trust, loyalty and their ability to keep their mouths shut about anything that would onto happen on the isle and what they would see. It also didn't hurt for me to acknowledge that I needed someone to row the boat because I had no idea how to do that sort of thing, even if it seemed simple in theory.

And I doubted that I would enjoy the effort in doing so.

"Brother," Axel said, grunting with mild effort as he pulled at the oar in tandem with Lyam who looked half-asleep and just seemed to be going through the motions. "Is there a particularly good reason we are going to an island that most people seem to stay clear well away from?"

Lyam yawned. "And so early in the morn at that."

I turned back to face them from my position in the front where I had been doing my best to guide us towards the island. The fog made it rather difficult and I couldn't say I was particularly pleased about that. I just didn't want us to be sailing around in circles. "A very good reason."

Axel frowned and Lyam yawned once more. "What kind of reason is that?" My little brother asked, shaking his head. "The time we are spent doing this could have very well been time well spent trying to secure your reign."

I really liked the fact that Axel always tried to keep me focused on the goal in the distance, especially when I felt like just putting things to the side to do my own kind of stuff. Stuff that didn't involve the sort of things that involved any form of matters of state.

It was amazing how much of a workaholic Axel was. I don't think I actually even saw him do anything fun that did not involve me forcing him to do it.

"His reign is secure." Lyam said half-yawning, half trying to stay awake. Who knew that he was so bad with waking up, this cousin of mine? "He has heir on the way and you are too marry the Darklyn girl. In two fell swoops, House Tully has gained the support of three houses of considerable influence and wealth."

"Three?" I asked, looking back.

Whatever Lyam tried to do, a smile or a grin more like, it didn't come out as well as he thought it would. "House Mallister of course, coz!" He shook his head to try get the sleep away. "And don't forget that his queen is already with child. With those three houses as allies along with an heir to be born, your reign for the foreseeable future is as secure as secure as can be."

"Well," the younger Tully to find the words to say for a moment before he continued speaking. "I suppose you have a point, coz. It's just that the particular histories of previous Kings of the Rivers and Hills doesn't lend well to those that did not take their duties seriously."

Again, with the King of the Rivers and Hills stuff. When was the King of the Trident going to stick?

Dammit Martin, could you not even have tried just a little bit to actually give proper names to your kingdoms? It was aggragating that Dorne was the only fictional kingdom in all of Westeros (lazy name for a continent just so you know) that had a suitable enough name. The Westerlands got a pass because it sounded like a name, but the title that the kings of that particular went by was just stupid.

And don't get me started on the rest of the kingdoms. Their names were just tragic.

I wasn't asking for some Lord of the Rings level detail and creation here, just something that didn't seem so... lazy.

"It's still early days, little brother." I said as I squinted into the fog. I think I could see shapes in the distance, large shapes. Was that the isle? "Our kingdom has only existed for little more than a year and we have been making good progress into securing its safety. And I'm sure the kingdom will be fine without us for the nonce. Lord Mooton and Kevan are more than able to enough to deal with anything whilst we are gone."

Axel didn't say anything, so I took that as a win for me that I had convinced him to chill about the whole thing about us going on a couple days trip to the isle.

Then the fog started clearing up in a manner that ruffled my jimmies in that I didn't think it was all that natural, allowing me to see the isle in all of its unnatural splendour. It's splendour and the figures that were standing waiting for us on the shore.

I suppose I really shouldn't have been surprised and really should have seen this coming.

These people could dream about the future of course.

I got a good look on our welcoming party as we neared the shore that was closer than I thought it was. The group of people wore mottled clothes that were green and earthy in colour that seemed to be made out of leaves and twigs. The one that stood out though was the one that wore an antler like headdress of some kind, with the antlers having a somewhat white sheen to it.

My feet were the first to hit the ground of the Isle of Faces, perhaps the first to do so in thousands of years. I didn't pay much attention to our welcoming party as I turned to help bring our rowboat away from the waves and onto firmer ground, Axel and Lyam jumping out as well and pushing the rowboat safely on the beach.

It took a few moments and effort on our part before we were assured enough that the waves wouldn't take the boat away before turning to face our greeters.

Axel all gave them a wary, guarded look as he absorbed their presence. "So, these are the famous greenmen of the stories..."

"And women." Lyam quipped, noticing two of their number that had more feminine looks upon them. "though the stories said that they all had horns of some kind. I see only one with such horns."

"I think it's a crown of some kind." Axel corked his head to the side. They were taking this much better than I thought they would. "Like the sort of crown that the Devouts and the High Septon are said to wear."

"But far less ostentatious."

I cracked a smile. "On that, we can agree." I took a step forward and raised a hand in greeting. "Hello. Are introductions necessary? I have a funny feeling that you already know me and my companions' names. As you can see, we come in peace, no weapons and all that. Nice island by the way... never seen so many weirwoods in one place like this..." Cos there was weirwoods everywhere and with all the faces that made them horrifying and utterly freaky to look at.

"We know who you are, Edmyn." The one with the antler headdress addressed me in a voice that had me believe that he was older than he looked. He probably was. Bloodraven came to mind, but this particular guy wasn't exactly one with a tree though, so what was his trick? "We have been waiting for you."

"You have?" I queried, confused. "Okay. Neat. I suppose this makes it easier for everybody-and they just walked off." I finished off as the greenmen turned as one and began to walk into the forest of weirwood trees.

Lyam moved next to me. "I think we are to follow them."

"I'd follow them more confidently if I had steel on me." He then produced a dirk from somewhere and flashed me and Lyam a dry look. "It's a good thing I do."

Lyam looked almost sheepish as he produced a dirk of his own from the insides of his boots. "This had been getting a little uncomfortable..."

"It's nice to know that you lot can follow my commands so well." The sarcasm came out half-heartedly, nonetheless, with my two companions, we followed the path the greenmen had taken into the forest.

The embrace of the forest of weirwood was strange to say the least. It was early morning and there should have been a subtle grip of cold, yet inside the forest that was filled with trees all bearing faces that were either crying, laughing or screaming another many other thing, all them with tears of blood flowing out of their eyes, it almost felt as if I was in my solar with the hearts on blast.

And I wasn't the only one to notice how this didn't make sense.

I decided to place these new phenomena into the realm of greenmen magic bullshit of some kind.

We eventually caught up with the greenmen who walked comfortably amongst the warmth of the forest. Axel and Lyam kept close, their blades hidden amongst their persons. Their presence did make me feel a little better because I just had to wonder what sort of person would go out of their way to carve some truly and utterly terrifying faces on their trees.

I did not want to see a face LOLing so hard that blood was coming out of their eyes.

That was just unnecessarily terrifying.

Eventually, we entered a clearing that allowed more sunlight through the canopy of leaves. The trees here were even more weirwoods but bigger and older. The most noticeable being a single weirwood in the centre that seemed to tower over the rest in terms of height and width.

"Are those treehouses?" Lyam asked as he observed the tops of the weirwoods.

Following his vision, I noticed that yes, there indeed tree houses, along with bridges that criss-crossed the entire opening. I just think we had been led to were the greenmen lived and slept.

"King." The antlered greeman called out, suddenly in front of us, nearly making the three of jumpo back in fright like cats. "Come... but they stay." The antlered one said, staring at my two companions with idle disinterest.

Who were not having any of that nonsense. "Wherever my brother goes, I go." Axel said as he stepped forward.

Lyam concurred as he nodded. "It would be poor form of me to just let my cousin wander off into the woods with persons of suspicion."

The antlered greenman looked at them, an eyebrow raised. "You came here willingly."

"That's beside the point."

"That is the point."

And here I was, the first person on the Isle of Faces to hear a greenman bicker with my cousin. I had to stop this nonsense before whatever mysterious allure that the greenmen held was completely erased by bickering that was based on some technicality or another.

"It's fine." I said, speaking up to quiet down my two companions. I waved them to ease off a little. "I'll be fine. He is right. We did come here willingly, so if anything, something happens, the blame rest solely on you two."

"Wait, what?"

"Clearly you should have been more vigorous in trying to stop me if this ends rather badly for everybody involved."

"We didn't even know about this!" Axel protested. "You just brought us here without knowing anything!"

With all the seriousness that I could muster at the audacity that I was putting on, I levelled a look in the direction of my little brother. "Then you should have tried harder."

At that, I left Axel gaping and Lyam mildly amused and somewhat irritated but being the nice guy that he was, probably too aware of other's people's feelings to actually show said irritation. The antlered man led me towards the large weirwood tree in what was probably the centre of the island, the contents of pack rattling as we stepped through an opening that led into the insides of the tree, though at the way the elevation angled downwards, it was easy enough to tell that we were heading underground.

After I nearly slipped or hit something with my foot for the third time, I voiced said complaints. "Is there some sort of light in here? It's getting a bit difficult to see."

I had to squint at the shadow that seemed to be in front of me in the darkness of the underground. "Ah yes, apologies. It has been some time since we last received a guest." The antlered man said something, touched the ground I think and before I knew it, there was light that separated the world from the darkness. "It is easy for us to forget that some are not blessed with some of the blessings we have received."

The sudden light forced me to close my eyes quickly lest they burned straight out of my sockets. It felt like they were going to burn straight out of my socket with the way it had been going. "Yeah..." I grunted as I blinked rapidly trying to get my eyes used to the light without hurting. "Not all of us can slip into the minds of animals or dream of things to come."

The greenman glided over the slick, wet ground that had white roots with red veins running all over it. "Yes. I suppose our abilities are not as common as they used to be."

"Definitely not." I paused for a moment, a thought passing through my mind. "Like, if you don't mind me asking, do you think you would be able to lend me a couple of your wargs? And maybe some of your seers as well. You have no idea how useful it would be to have people who can dream of things to come." The greenman didn't reply. I waited for a couple more moments to let him think it over, but it didn't seem like he was going to give me an answer anytime soon. "I'll take that as a 'no' then."

It was worth a try.

Honestly, it really wouldn't hurt to have a couple of wargs that were bonded to birds or wolves of some kind. They would make some excellent scouts. Probably the best in the world. If only I could get my hands on them.

I think I just might be able to actually my grubby little hands on some wargs. I just had to look further north than I was already doing.

That meant making contact and somehow working out some kind of bargain with any wildings that were slightly more reasonable than the average wildling... wasn't there a group of wildlings beyond the wall that were actually civilised? I think they were called the Thenns.

Some sort of deal could probably be made with the Thenns... but that depended in which universe I was in. Being this far back made it really difficult to know whether I was in the show universe or the book universe. The show!Thenns were a complete caricature of the book!Thenns.

If I survive this excursion to the Isle of Faces, I'll need to correspond some with the wall about the tribes beyond the wall. Perhaps promises of food, men and coin would be able to buy me some in with the Lord Commander... whoever he was.

We eventually entered a large chamber deep beneath the surface, its walls littered wittered with a patchwork of bone white veins with red sap slowly oozing out like blood from a wound. If that wasn't unnerving enough, the walls were also carved with faces. Loads and loads of faces.

That didn't attract half my attention as the large block of perfectly carved weirwood alter that sat straight in the middle of the chamber. I stopped dead in my tracks and crossed my arms, really wishing I had brought some kind of dagger of my own like the others.

"I didn't come here to be sacrificed."

Say what you will about the Faith of the Seven, but at the very least, unlike what seemed to be the vast majority of the religions of this world, they didn't demand sacrifices. The old gods might not be gods in the actual sense but more akin some sort of super-intelligent hive computer of some kind, it was still pretty dickish for them to demand sacrifices.

Why though, I had no idea and I honestly didn't want to ask if it involved me being the subject of such a thing.

"You are not going to be sacrificed." A raspy, ancient voice spoke from within the chamber all around me.

I looked around, trying to find the source of the voice but with little to no luck. "Okay, that wasn't-." The words were caught in my throat when I realised that the greenman had since disappeared without even me noticing. I was sure that I stood in the path of the only entrance and exit of the chamber, so how did he slip by me without even noticing? That was bullshit. "I really should have brought some kind of weapon..."

"After so long. So very long," the voice breathed tiredly. "it continues to surprise me that the first instinct of men at dealing with the unknown is to stab it with the pointiest thing they can get their hands on."

Yeah, yeah, whatever. "What can I say? We don't react well with disembodied voices speaking to us out of the blue." Wait, did the voice just snark at me?

"You find me terrifying yet the same could be said of me about you."

The smirk on my face was less one of confidence but one of what the fuck was going to happen to me in this goddamn tree. "I'm just a puny little human. Nothing more, nothing less. I really don't hold any sort of threat to you."

"We both know that you are more than that."

Oh sweet merciful mother of everything that was good and holy, the roots were moving.

They were moving.

I was now seriously getting some serious Witcher 3 vibes from that one particular quest when Geralt and Ciri face off against Imlerith and the sisters. Especially the sister part of that quest. I looked down and lifted up my boots and noticed the blood red sap that had pooled on the ground.

Yeah... definitely some Witcher 3 vibes.

"Great..." I muttered underneath my breath as the roots continued moving, coalescing into something on the other side of the altar, right in front of me. "The only good thing I can say about all this is that there isn't a cauldron of boiling blood." My eyes drifted to the sacrificial altar. "At least that would be quicker..."

The roots eventually stopped moving and formed what seemed to be a goddamn throne, a throne was a matted and old skeleton sat. I blinked up at the throne. "It's actually called the Golden Throne... not the White Throne. Just saying."

Witcher 3 vibes along with some Warhammer 40k thrown in there? I was literally in hell then.

The old skeleton ignored the sally. "You, the one who wears the skin of the man once known as Edmyn, what do you want of us?"

"I am Edmyn actually... somewhat. Sort of." A hand drifted towards the satchel that I wore, lightly drifting over the contents inside. "You can see the future though can't you? You should know."

I felt the skeleton that was shrouded in shadows look down upon me from atop its throne of weirwoods, even though I sort of know that skeletons really don't have eyes. "It does not work like that." The whatever it was replied simply.

"Fine." I dug a hand into the satchel and pulled out a glass candle. "I want to know how to use that."

Did the roots just move to make it seem like the skeleton that sat upon the throne shrugged? And people called me lazy. "Then your journey was for nought," it paused for a moment before speaking again. "Edmyn Tully."

DidI just get acknowledged as Edmyn Tully by this abomination in front of me? If so, neat.

I looked atop the throne and then down to the glass candle in my hand. "How was it for nought? Its magic. You do magic. You just made a godsdamned throne out of roots for crying out loud!"

"The workings of the dragonlords are as mysterious to us as our own workings are to them."

I squinted my eyes as the words that had been spoken ran through my mind.

Did I just get told that there was a compatibility problem? What was this, the Planetos version of a difference in operating system? Windows vs Mac? Cos that was so many kinds of bullshit and not even the funny bullshit that I could just laugh off easily.

I shoved the glass candle back into the satchel. "Well, this was a phenomenal waste of my time." I said before remembering that I was speaking to something ancient that could control roots. Roots that could very well make me a living pin cushion if I showed the proper disrespect. "And I'm sorry for wasting yours as well. Mostly yours. Please don't kill me. I'll be good." It snorted from my whimpering and begging but kept silent. "Like, are you even human? I think you are a little too big to be a child of the forest."

"You know the answer to that."

It was right. If this... whatever it was, had once been human, it stopped being human long ago. It sounded far too old to just be your average everyday human or prolonged life human. This was like some Bloodraven shit taken up to a hundred.

"So... can you at the very least tell me my future?" I asked carefully. With the sort of knowledge about my future at hand, everything would go pretty well for me since I would know what was going to happen to me. "Like a detailed vision of my future."

"There would be no point. The future that I see is made of the decisions that are not just taken by you, but by others. If you know of your future, you shall move to make different decisions that can very well change coming events." It paused for a moment. "Something that you have already done."

"For the better, I hope." I quipped in return from the words that I had just been told by some ancient tree spirit/creature of some kind. Then something crossed my mind and I frowned. "Wait, that doesn't make sense. If the future is decided by decisions taken individually, then how does something like the prince that was promised come about?" or the prophecy with Cersei? It wouldn't be like Maggy the Frog knew about Robert pissing Cersei off on their wedding night.

...

Or did she?

Jojen Reed had green dreams, but his visions of the future came as metaphors if I remembered correctly. Metaphors that he had to interpret himself and if I remembered it correctly, he got it right sometimes, sometimes he got it wrong. Nothing about that at all indicated that visions went into the sort of details that could tell Maggy the decisions and events that would lead to her prophecy... or was this another difference between magic from the east and that of the west?

The ancient one snorted. "The prince that was promised... I wouldn't call that a prophecy. An invention more like. In times of adversity, heroes always rise up to challenge and banish away the darkness. It is a tale that has happened once and shall happen again and again and again until the last song is sung."

"So, its not a prophecy?"

"No."

"Well, that changes a lot of things." It was nice to know that Dany, Aegon, Rhaegar or Jon or Stannis or anyone else that was indicated by that prophecy wasn't actually important. Actually, perhaps they were important in a way. Like, the most likely to actually become these heroes in times of adversity that it spoke about. I wonder if Dany and any of the rest of the main cast shall even be born. The waves that I have already set off could very well change the nature of Westeros beyond recognition three hundred years from now. "Are the Others awake or asleep?"

"When where they ever asleep?"

I whimpered.

My voice sounded a little too high for my liking, but then again, a bomb had been dropped on me that I didn't like. "I assumed that since... you know, they haven't been seen in thousands of years... they would be taking a nap or something."

It scoffed. "They are creatures that bleed and breathe like you and... well, I used to bleed and breathe, but that's beside the point. What I'm trying to say is, they are not bears. They do not hibernate. They have their own civilisation to see to. If they all slumbered, even their ice will not be able to preserve it."

I was unsure of how to take that. "That's... great?" Note to self, look for real estate on the other side of the world. As far away as possible from the ice demons and their undead army. I was feeling a little dizzy and woozy on my feet. "Oh dear, I think I'm going to need a long drink when I get back home."

"Ah... wine... mutton... how I have missed such things... it's been too long."

"How old are you anyway?"

"Far too old."

That didn't really answer my questions but convince me that once again, I was dealing with something that made Brynden look positively young. Despite that, the notion of ice demons running around in the far north and not, you know, being asleep as fanon had made it out to be was terrifying. If I knew what I knew now before taking it to Harren, I would have parked my ass down and waited the ten years for Aegon to come and do his thing.

"Like... if the Others ever took an interest in the south, be nice and tell me?"

"So you can run away?"

"Something like that."

A dry throaty, skeletal chuckle rang throughout the underground chamber. "At least you are honest. A last hero... Azor Azhai... prince that was promised you are not. For what you ask though, it shall be easy enough to do. It matters not really, you shall be long dead before the walkers ever take an interest in the south once more."

"Yeah well, I don't want to leave that to chance." I shifted uncomfortably where I stood then I remembered something about greenseers. "Wait a moment, can't you see the past, present and future when a weirwood is involved?"

"Apart from this island, there are no weirwoods. The weirwood of the Blackwoods is weak and slowly dying, even now, I can feel its moans and cries as those who came before me sap their strength to will the tree to live a little longer. If there were more weirwoods in the south, then perhaps I would be able to do what you ask of me."

I frowned for a moment. "So I need to plant weirwoods and make the important decisions around them for you to see how I'm going to be fucking things up? That's nice and all but I'm sure trees take decades or perhaps even centuries to grow. I don't have that sort of time."

"I would have thought that someone of your particular knowledge would know that weirwoods are of a different sort."

I groaned at his words, head swaying side to side as if in a daze. "Tell me it doesn't involve blood."

"What is with you and your fascination with blood and sacrifice? We are not Valyrians." It paused, perhaps its age catching up to it for a moment. "There is more to the higher mysteries than blood and sacrifice."

Well, excuse me for not believing that considering that most of the more blatant Planetosi magic mostly included blood. The shadow babies didn't include blood, but they might as well have included said blood. After all, what was blood than the life water of the human body? Stannis did come out of that little romp with Melisandre looking rather down and out of it.

"Do this and the future will be much clearer for us."

Ah the age old you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours routine or politics by other means.

It was rather naive of me to just think the tree person would just be cool with me just asking for my future and not wanting something back in return. Things were never that simple. Especially in Westeros where apparently, the notion of doing things out of good will was somehow anathema to the vast majority of people without wanting something else in return. Even age old tree spirit... thingies were not exempt from this.

Then again, Bloodraven did pull a similar stunt in canon. Not the same as the one I'm facing right now, but definitely something that involved getting something out of Bran.

The offer was tempting, but that would risk the chance of me inflaming relations with the Faith that were being quite nice to me by keeping the other kingdoms of my back. The fact that they were able to do this rather showed the sheer amount of influence they could wield. If they just happened to think that I wasn't being pious enough by turning my attention to the weirwoods that were suddenly sprouting out of the ground from out of the blue, I suspect things might get... very bloody, very soon.

And I did not want that.

Especially now when what I'm trying to build is still very much in its infancy. Perhaps I would have been more willing to go along if my position and that of the Trident was more secure... like I said, seeing the future could be pretty hand though I wonder how the weirwoods would be useful in that regard. The memories were hazy, but I think weirwoods only recorded or saw the events happening in their immediate surroundings and nothing else.

If I wanted general warnings, green dreams would be the way to go, but it would be a bitch trying to interpret said dreams into something coherent.

I smiled up at the ancient greenman in its throne of roots. "A nice offer, but I am afraid I shall have to decline." For now at the very least. Perhaps circumstances would change in the future. "But thank you for not turning me into some sort of human... root thing. I don't think I would have survived." As you can see, my mouth seemed to take a life of its own in situations of stress and other such situations.

It chuckled in an eerily manner. "We have our ways."

I... don't think I like what was being implied there. To be honest, I don't think I ever was able to not be creeped out so badly by this rather ancient greenman. I don't think it ever got the idea I did not care for its snark that implied malicious things that could be done to me that would still render me alive.

I tried not to think about it too much.

AN: Alright, this book ends right here. I thought about adding the EULA Incident but some quick research on unified law codexes showed that sort of thing took time. Especially for a disjointed mess that is the riverlands that picked up laws from here and there and whatever local customs that came into being during negligent rule. It's not even been half a year since Ed got Jaime and company to start unmaking the mess of laws, traditions and customs, so I've decided to introduce it in the next run.

It's going to be a small time skip of 4-5 years and with that small time skip, a short story that won't be as long as this introductory one. We'll be seeing some more definite changes from the original story for those previous eagle eyed observers.

It's probably going to be up either on Friday or Saturday.

Kuw

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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TryingToBeKuw

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TryingToBeKuw

TryingToBeKuw

I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

May 1, 2018

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#526

Book Two

Reflections on the Trident – Symond Flood

For three generations, the Hoares ruled the riverlands with an iron fist.

Many brave riverlords rose up and tried to free their lands from the cruelties and tyranny of their ironborn rulers, yet none of them were ever successful. The Hoares proved too strong to defy and the price for treason they brought upon the rebel lords were heavy enough that many were convinced to never rise up ever again.

Harren Hoare with some great effort and skill on his part, was somehow able to prove himself the cruellest out of all the Hoares that came before him. His demands went above and beyond what even his sire and grandsire had demanded of the riverlords.

By then, with memories of what Harwyn and Halleck had done to previous rebel lords, the riverlords had been cowed into submission with none willing to rise up against Harren and his illbred ilk and people.

The thought of rebellion was far from the mind of any riverlord with good sense or cowardice by other means.

The Tullys proved themselves to be of a different sort to their fellow riverlords though.

The Brothers Tully, having seen their people suffer for far too long raised their swords and rode out with the brave knights and sworn swords of Riverrun. The Hoares, with Harren the cruellest of them all, had proved themselves over the decades to be undefeatable, were defeated in battle by the Brothers Tully and their Blackwood and Bracken allies.

Captured, Harren found himself a front row witness to the demise of his own kingdom as with the success of the Tully brothers, the Blackwoods and Brackens, word was spread and good natured rivermen, from the highest of lords to the lowest of peasants rose up and killed any ironborn they could get their hands on.

With Harren defeated and the end of ironborn rule in the riverlands, the lords of the now free-realm were at a cross-road. What would they do from now on? The riverlands did not lack in royal houses. The Blackwoods, Brackens, Mallisters, Mootons and Vances among many others could claim themselves of suitable lineage to become rulers of their own right.

Yet, in an assembly of lords and peasantry held in the shadows of Harrenhal, they all chose the man that had been the cause of this great moment in the history of the riverlands, Edmyn Tully. The rivermen, high and low alike proclaimed him king six times, each time, the young lord with a wisdom beyond his six-and-ten years denied the crown for he knew the weight of its responsibility upon his young head. On the seventh and final asking by the Lords of the Trident, with great difficulty, he finally relented and accepted the Crown of the Trident to great acclaim and celebration by not only the lords but the tens of thousands of levies and smallfolk that had come to free themselves from the evil, black rule of Harren, his sons and the ironborn.

With his ascension, Edmyn Tully in all his exceptional wisdom came to realise that he had much to do to secure his new realm, to secure it internally whilst building the necessary infrastructure that the Hoares had so neglected badly over their rule.

He first saw to secure the riverlands, long since blighted by internal disputes by numerous riverlords and their petty rivalries over the grander notion of the Trident itself by securing a marriage of himself with Zhoe Mooton, daughter to the esteemed and staunch supporter and mentor of the young king, Jon Mooton, Lord of Maidenpool.

This marriage tied House Tully and Mallister, the premier powers of the western riverlands to the premier power of the eastern riverlands. Their marriage proved to be a fruitful one as the gods, both old and new blessed them with a gift in the form of a daughter, Cirilla, known as Ciri and not long afterwards, Alfred, the long-awaited son and heir that the realm had been waiting for with baited breath.

The elder Tully brother was not the only one to marry. Not long after his marriage, the younger, loyal and dutiful brother Axel was soon betrothed to Alys Darklyn of the Darklyns of Duskendale, the premier lords of the Blackwater that had been amongst the first or the very first to swear fealty to the their new, honourable and just king.

In the middle of 102AD King Edymn watched with pride as his brother wed the Lady Alys and it was said a tear escaped one of his eyes at the beauty of the wedding. Though they had to wait, Lord Axel and Lady Alys soon gave birth to a son in 104AD, Edward, in honour of his royal uncle and he in turn was honoured by the king when he held a tourney in his name, just like he did for the birth of his own children.

With the realm secure with an alliance of marriages between some of the most powerful houses in the Trident and Blackwater, Edmyn turned his attention to the realm at large, long since ignored by the Hoares. He took one look and acted quickly.

From across the narrow sea, underneath the supervision of Ser Franklyn Frey, he summoned engineers to begin the construction of a great road network that connected his kingdom, from Seagard to Maidenpool. With a flick of his wrist, he became the first King of the Trident to ever give out city charters to the large settlements of the Trident, granting them certain rights that helped with their development. With the aid of leal riverlords and men, he began to build an army and navy that would see to the defence of the realm from all who would threaten it.

The young king never rested, for his love and admiration of the Trident and its people made him work harder than most to ensure that his beloved subjects enjoyed peace, tranquillity, safety and that most of all, they prospered.

I ran a hand down the length of the leather-bound tome of text, my fingers going over the grooves that had been made with the etchings of the title of the work that sat on the table. "It's beautiful." I said, a small smile coming to my lips.

It was dusk and the sun was setting in the west, basking the sky in a riot of burning orange colours that bathed the western facing room that we were in. Zhoe, my wife, pregnant once more, waddled forward. She eyed the tome for a moment before letting her thoughts heard. "It's a book."

"A very important book."

She leaned forward slightly to take a better look of it. "Body of Civil & Military Law. Is this what has had you so excited for so long?"

"Yes." The admission came with ease. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't a little bit excited by this. After nearly four years, this code of law was now finished. It had taken two years to get all the nuances write and an additional year and a half to review it, but in the words of some song back home, bitch, we made it! "Now comes the problem of somehow convincing the lords of the realm to accept it."

Zhoe stood back up and leaned on me to brace herself. I wish she would have just taken or seat or better yet, had rested and not felt compelled to follow me when Jaime had called for me. "You are the king, aren't you? Just announce it as a decree."

At that, the man who had led us into his offices cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Though His Grace holds that royal pejorative and well within his rights... he feels more inclined into letting his lords willingly adopt the codex of laws willingly rather by force."

I felt the movement of her head as she looked up at me, perhaps looking at me for answers to my strange way of doing things. By normal standard Westerosi conversion, I did have a strange way of doings things, that I would admit.

This was mostly because I was used to the functions of a democracy, not the functions of a feudal government. And anyway, I had read somewhere that it was easier for people to accept something if they felt that they had willingly chosen it.

I think that's how it went.

"It would be easier in the long run for us if the lords accepted it willingly."

An idea started to form in my head as I recalled everything I knew about Westeros. The general consensus was the vast majority of lords were nothing more than overly privileged frat boys and it was a rare thing indeed to find lords who actually cared about the whole ruling part of the job if it did not involve smashing heads or protecting their rights.

A passage from one of Tyrion's scenes about Young Griff being far more educated than the vast majority of the lords of Westeros stuck out to me... which didn't really surprise me to be honest. Ser Franklyn, someone who had come to prove himself as able to me in the past few years seemed to have trouble reading.

Not that he couldn't read, but he was... infuriatingly slow and the fact that he felt the need to mouth the words told me that reading and unfortunately, perhaps even writing was something that he did not really pay attention to in his development. Lord Goodbrook couldn't even read or write, finding that particular skillset the dominion of coin counters and maesters.

Funnily enough, none of those lords seemed to ever say anything of that regard in the presences of the lords that ruled over the towns and cities. Funny that.

"How long will it take to print enough copies for every lord and landed knight in the realm?" I asked, stroking the smartly cropped beard that had grown during the winter.

Jaime hummed in thought for a moment, the burning orange of the setting sun making his chains burn brightly a riot of colours that was almost blinding if looked at directly. "We have several dozen of the devices now and with experienced crews to man them. With the number of lords and landed knights, it should take us a little more than a month." His chains rattled a little as he gently rose his shoulders up and down in a shrug. "Though I fear it would take a little longer for the quality of the covers to be something similar to this."

"That's fine." I glanced down at Zhoe and gave her the best smile I could possibly offer. "Dearest wife, how do you feel about holding perhaps the largest ball in all the realm? Filled with all kinds of entertainment. We can finally get to regale the rest of the realm with the Royal Orchestra and Acting Company of ours that we have been building."

Look at me, patron of the arts.

Zhoe's eyes danced with interest as she looked up at me. "You have some sort of idea or plan."

"Something of a plan." I replied, nodding my head as I did so. "Still got to sort out a few things first and call in a couple of favours. I might also the need the help of you and Joanna as well."

Favours that have been long overdue to be called in to be honest, though I did hold a little fear that they might be rejected. I was a confident enough that they had a better possibility of being accepted more than anything else.

"I want to know the details." She asked of me politely but with enough firmness to know that she wanted to be included in this. I just nodded my head to her demand before she smiled all sweetly. "Very well, if a ball is what you want husband, a ball you shall have."

My hands came together in a clap that reverberated throughout the room. "Excellent!" I said cheerfully enough. I slapped the cover of the codex once, hard enough to make the palm of my hands sting. "Jaime, you know what to do!"

In his manner, the maester just nodded. "It will be done, sire."

Ladies and gentlemen, I can now with the utmost confidence reveal to you all that Westeros' common sense defying seasonal patterns are the results of magic bullshit just like what many theories on the internet claimed them to be. It was the only reasonable way to explain the nonsense that was the patterns of the seasons in this hellhole.

Here's the thing, another point that would make on any other day, make me question how the scientific progress of this particular fictional hellhole worked if I didn't know that this particular truth was as old as dirt, Planetos was round! And not only was the world round, it orbited the sun and not the sun orbiting it and on an axial tilt as well.

The Citadel and by the sounds of it, many other learned men from the various other cultures around the world, accepted this as a fact. It just so happened that, just like back home, some people had difficulty not thinking that the world orbited the sun aka heliocentrism if I remember correctly. It sort of got dumber the further one down went as the smallfolk tended to believe that the sky was blue because the world existed in the eyes of a blue eyed giant.

That sounded strangely familiar, can't put it where though.

Anyway, back to the magic seasons bullshit.

The learned men knew the world was round and that it orbited the sun at an axial tilt. According to Jaime, they were quite aware that the seasons really don't make sense simply because of what they knew about the world and thus everything about the seasons was unnatural which would then lead to the very reasonable conclusion that magic had been involved somehow to create the bullshit that were the seasons of the world.

Funnily enough, near enough the equator and below, winter was barely noticeable which sounded just about right. People could go their whole lives in southern Westeros without seeing snow or even knowing what it was, even during winter.

There was a theory that the seasons changed at a normal pace but something off-set it in the distant past somehow. Problem is, there wasn't enough records that went that far back.

The First Men probably had records of such an event but since the Andals went out of their way to assimilate the First Men into Andal culture which included destroying many of their runes, it was unlikely that anything that far back survived. Valyria itself was a crap-shoot... being located in the Smoking Sea and all.

If Yi Ti was as old as it claimed, then it was likely that they had records that went that far back, but I doubted it. That sort of thing took a lot of space. Space that someone else would want to use and thus rid of themselves of anything that took that space.

Unfortunately, the greenseer wasn't that old and apparently, going back that far in time had its costs and he wasn't exactly willing to amuse me with my interest into the matter.

I don't particularly know why Planetos' freaky weather system interested me so much, especially now knowing that it more than likely involved freaky magic bullshit on a probably global scale. Something like that was probably best left alone until someone far more curious and with a bigger death wish than me came along.

What should really interest me is the fact that anyone who has sailed into the horizon of the sunset sea has never been seen again. Which immediately told me that there was either no America equivalent in Planetos or Planetos was bigger than I previously thought and thus, whoever sailed west never to be seen again didn't have enough supplies to last the journey.

...or something else other than hunger got to them.

This was a fantasy world after all, anything could happen.

Until then, I had to interest myself with the tediousness of government and matters of state. Specifically, convincing my goodfather to go along with the ploy I meant to carry out on nobility of the realm when I called I supposed, a parliament of sorts in the coming months.

In my own humble opinion, I'd wager I was a pretty much average governor and administrator. The only thing that probably made pushed me up into the higher grades was probably because I brought along ideas that were more than likely unheard off in Westeros.

That was about it really. I was nowhere near as brilliant as the singers, mummers and Axel made me out to be. That was nothing more than good old fashion propaganda at work and something else in Axel's case.

"We are keeping on the right path with the repayments of the loans to the Iron Bank and due to the generous terms of repayment, I think we shall not find out treasury strained in the coming future." Said Jon as we sat in my private solar, himself having just passed me a brief of where it showed how much coin was coming in and where it was going. "We do expect to see an increase in our revenues though as summer sets in and we are able to bring in more harvests."

I nodded along to everything my goodfather was saying as I continued to take in all the information in front of me in an easy enough to read format that would not be too confusing and whilst at the same time, keeping in tune with the relevant information.

"That's good to hear," I said, turning over a page. It was nice to see that we were beginning to export more now thanks to all those watermills that were slowly being built on the red fork. "Though that means the price of grain is going to fall again won't it?"

The lord gave a single firm nod. "Yes. Unfortunately, sire, your agricultural reforms and the many devices that have been introduced have seen to a boom in the total yield of harvest and as more and more farmers adopt your reforms and devices, this will only increase."

"And more and more of my subjects, lords and smallfolk alike shall complain of the drop-in prices. This almost makes me wish that winter had been around for longer." The lord didn't say anything as was his wont but just nodded his head.

The season had forced prices to increase once more, which stopped the rather justified complaining. As a farmer and a landlord, I wouldn't like it exactly if I found out that I was going to be receiving less money for selling the same amount of grain on the market.

Although I was genuinely happy that it didn't seem like we would suffer from any food shortages any time soon in the future, especially with the large granaries being built all around the kingdom to store all the harvests. I was not really looking forward to seeing farmers riot about the prices for their goods being too low.

Wrapping my fingers on the table, I thought of what to do as something started to come to mind. "I suppose we can sell them abroad. The Volantenes might very well need the grain considering they need to feed their armies and people somehow. The same can be said for the north and Dorne."

"Prudent options, your grace." My goodfather replied in a polite manner with an incline of the head. "Though the option of convincing the farmers to grow other crops as well rests on the table."

I raised an eyebrow in interest. "Such as...?"

"Cotton is something I suggest. Correct me if I'm wrong, but we have something called... a cotton gin, yes? I hear that its use hastens the process of separating the fibres from the seeds. I suggest that we introduce the crop to our farmers, grow it, use this gin and then sell large quantities of cotton cheaper than our competitors."

"The Pentoshi wouldn't like us much if we did that." I said with a chuckle thinking of how I had forgotten about that particular device. Jon was right in the regards that it would very much allow us to better and more efficiently acquire the fibres from the plants better than hand, making us far more competitive than the Pentoshi.

"I believe the Pentoshi have far larger concerns than us at the moment."

I smirked at the thought of Volantis and its dreams of empire. "True, let's see to it then." For an hour more, we talked of the specifics before I decided that it was best time that I could see if I could bring him on side. "My lord, I'm sure by now Zhoe has told you of the book of laws that I with the aid of Jaime and the maesters had compiled."

"Body of Civil & Military Law." The lord said from memory. He then nodded. "Aye, she's told me. A codification of the laws of the land in peace and... war time is the mark of a wise ruler, your grace."

Smiling widely, I nodded. "Others said as much, but I fear that it would not be wholly accepted by the lords."

"If they do not accept it, then they are in the process of committing treason, sire. Nothing more, nothing less." Jon replied with a firm tone of voice. "Whatever falls on them for their disapproval is thus on their heads."

The smile was still on my face as I took in the tone of voice used. Jon was usually quite neutral and he spoke gently. I think this was the first time that I've heard him use that tone of voice.

"I value your support, my lord. Truly I do, but I do not wish to seem like a tyrant or another coming of Harren by forcing unpopular laws upon the lords." I shook my head. "That right there seems like the sort of grounds that rebellion happens and my rule is not as secure as I would like it." It was still too early in my rule for me to be confident that I held the vast majority of the power. True, I had Darklyn, Mallister and Mooton behind me, but I don't think the Darklyns liked me all that much and I'd rather not risk it.

"If not by royal decree, then how do you plan on introducing this body of laws of yours?" He asked, interested.

I think the smile on my face became a little more predatory. "By taking advantage of the nature of the common lord, goodfather."

By the way an eyebrow rose up just ever so slightly, I think he was a little bit intrigued.

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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TryingToBeKuw

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TryingToBeKuw

TryingToBeKuw

I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

May 11, 2018

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#548

Book Two

5 BCE

Riverrun

I had made sure that they had brought no wildfire with them.

I had been very explicit in that particular demand of mine when I had my agents offer them the invitation to come to my court. When their ship had docked at Maidenpool, it had been thoroughly searched for napalm's evil lovechild that they so caringly called the 'substance'.

Several times, just to be safe.

The alchemists did in fact, not bring any of their famed 'substance' with them from across the sea. That's good, if they had, I would have been forced to kill them. The request had come under the pain of death for if they did not follow it.

"Your Grace!" The lead alchemist simpered in the accent of the east as he bowed in a stiff and uncomfortable manner. Clearly this man and his like where not used to the polite bowing that many of the Andals and First Men were used to. "Me and my order thank you for the invitation to come to your kingdom. We have heard much about you across the narrow sea in Beautiful Volantis." His command of the Common Tongue was surprising, even more so considering how even his accent was.

I was interested in how much the Volantenes have heard about me, but I decided to leave it alone for now. Instead, I bid the alchemist and his fellows to rise. "And I have heard much tales about your order and what it can do, Wisdom Irreo."

Procedure dictated that before I introduced someone to the royal court, I or a representative of mine, would meet them before hand to have a little talk. Just a little talk that involved the likes of the weather, how their family or land or whatever else topic was doing before we all gave each other fake smiles and went on our way.

This particular meeting just so happened to be something like that. From what I could remember about the alchemists from the books and the tv show was that they were dressed somewhat in robes, much like maesters. I had expected these very same alchemists to dress like that, but I was more than a little surprised that, they in fact, did not dress in such clothing.

The wisdom smiled happily enough as he clasped his hands behind his back and spoke with the accent of his people. "All good things, I hope."

There was something about his accent that I just couldn't place. To my ears it sounded something like an odd-mixture of Greek and Italian but somehow not Greek and Italian enough. How that even worked was beyond me. "Turning base metals into gold can only be a good thing." From the back, I swore I heard Jaime stifle something akin to a scoff.

The wisdom eyes looked past me for a moment before his lips stretched themselves across the bottom of his face to form a wide smile. A smile that was shared with his acolytes but theirs of a softer, knowing bent. "Some would say one of the greatest abilities in the world, your grace. Many men have come to us to learn our secrets and magics."

"I suspect they left disappointed then." Jaime said, not even bothering to hide the sheer disregard he felt for the alchemists.

The wisdom looked past me and onto Jaime and regarded him with both a cool look and tone of voice but not one in the realm of discourtesy. "We do not share our secrets so easily."

"You mean you can't reveal to the world that your supposed ability to 'transmutate' base metals into gold is nothing but complete lies."

Irreo cast a single dismissive look onto the chain that Jaime wore. "I see you belong to that oh so famous order of chained brethren. Your order's disregard for the higher mysteries is well known, it is a shameful thing indeed to espouse the pursuit of knowledge yet disregard the obvious."

I was disappointed really, I expected a better burn than that, considering their hobby. Hopefully, the next burns would be of a better quality than the one I had just heard. I needed my amusement here.

"Oh, we do not disregard the obvious, wisdom. We just recognise pigshit for what it is."

Well... I had most certainly not been expecting that sort of response from Jaime, but I'd be lying if I said I did not enjoy that.

Alas, as entertaining as this was turning out to be, I was surprisingly a busy man that actually had things to do. So, with a heavy heart, I decided to put an end to this before they decided to get into fisticuffs. "Good men, I think that will be enough of this. Whatever intellectual discussions you wish to have, you can have them at a later date, just not on my time."

Jaime remembered himself and the company that he was in as he nodded. "Apologies, my lords, your grace. I forgot myself."

"Apologies from me as well, King Edmyn." Irreo held a hand to his heart to make his apology seem even more heartfelt. "I was raised to be better than this in the presence of esteemed gentlemen."

"I wouldn't worry about it," I said, moving onto the actual reason as why I went to the whole trouble of summoning these pyromancers all the way from across the narrow sea. So, I turned their attention to that very particular reason. "So, base metals into gold. I'd like to see this ability of yours."

The sheer smile that made itself across Irreo's face could have very well split his face into two with how wide it was. "Yes, yes!" He said hurriedly as he quickly motioned for his acolytes to do... something as they scurried about and brought out instruments that they had been carrying. "Gold is such a fascinating metal, all men lust for it for the power and wealth it would bring to them. The sheer hint of gold in an area is more than enough to have thousands upon thousands of souls go off in search of the metal in some forsaken land far from home. That is how much we value it despite the few practical uses of the metal."

I think I would wager the fact that it could be used for the purpose of transaction of some kind would more than make it useful and practical.

"Many learned men have tried in the past to turn useless metals that hold no value into gold for the betterment of mankind but all avenues of approach failed." Irreo continued to mumble about excitedly as the acolytes finished setting up their apparatus. It was nothing more than a short thin stand with a head the shape of a circle. On top of it was a small chunk of grey metal, iron. The wisdom began to sprinkle some liquid on it from a bottle. "Until us of course. We have done what many have failed to do in thousands of years, the ability to create gold from other metals!"

He then said some words which to my ears sounded a lot like Valyrian. I glanced back in the direction of Jaime, my question plain to see on my face and the maester merely gave a single nod in confirmation of my question.

Edmyn had never actually paid attention to the language when he was being taught it, finding it pointless since he didn't know when he would actually need to use it. Something I had begun to rectify. I meant to be like that with Aegon and what better way to do that, than meet and greet him in the language that was he was raised in?

I turned my attention back to the wisdom as he continued chanting and working his spells in High Valyrian. Watching the chunk of iron ore, I noticed that nothing was happening which didn't surprise me all that much. I didn't exactly expect them to turn iron into gold.

That was nothing more than complete bullshit. Of that, I was completely positive about.

Then the ore started turning slowly from a somewhat shiny grey colour into a bright, slightly reddish yellow colour. Being British, I kept my surprise and other emotions well under control as the grey retreated further and further back by the assault of the new colour.

I looked from the chunk of metal to Irreo and noticed that the man was sweating bullets and whatever he was doing, was clearly taking a lot out of him. I... did not like what this implied. The sheer effort that was obviously on his face implied that some magic was clearly happening or either he was just a really good actor because he was being really convincing right about now.

There was surely no way the Alchemists could actually turn base metals into gold, could they? That was nothing more than complete bullshit. It had to be.

"Done!" Irreo breathed in and out with great effort, taking in heaps of air with each breath he took. He looked at me and Jaime with nothing but pride as he dared us to continue to doubt us by the evidence that was in front of him. He looked particularly pleased with himself as he stared at Jaime. "Gold from iron." Said Irreo, simply.

Jaime tentatively walked forward towards the stand were the metal that had been iron only a few moments ago and started studying the object as if it was alien but saying nothing.

I remembered something about gold from a quick wiki scroll from my first life. "Is it pure gold?"

Irreo's dark eyes darted to me. "The purest."

Stepping forward, I picked up the metal. The metal in my hands certainly had the right colour for gold in its purest form. Gold also happened to be soft if I wasn't wrong then again, so was iron in its purest form and I never actually touched pure iron.

The whatever it was that was in my hand was actually soft to the touch and somewhat malleable. Showing my back to them, I went towards my desk and picked up the paper knife I used to open the various letters that came my way and started scraping and tapping away at the metal.

"You can test it all you like, your grace." Irreo said, pride in his voice. "It is what it is."

I chucked the metal in the direction of Jaime who caught it out of the air with ease. "You are more knowledgeable than me, Jaime. Take that away for testing and see if the wisdom speaks true." Though Irreo continued looking rather proud of himself, the acolytes that had stood behind him seemed to... shake a little at the mention of 'testing'. "You can borrow Mikken as well if it will make the testing quicker."

There was a certain glint to Jaime's eyes as he accepted the task with relish. "Understood, your grace." I don't think I've ever seen him move so fast to leave the office.

Irreo watched the door close softly behind him before turning to face me, curiosity on his face. "Mikken, your grace?"

"Castle blacksmith. He knows his way round many metals." Irreo's expression didn't change as he nodded but it was obvious his acolytes were a little worried. By now, it was easy to tell that this was some high-quality bullshitting at work here. I nursed the back of my neck from a crook that I was feeling as I leaned back to rest my behind on the desk. "Wisdom Irreo, your order's ability to transmutate base metals into gold is not what I actually requested you here for."

The wisdom raised an eyebrow. "It's not?"

"No," a soft smile crept onto my lips. "It's your knowledge of alchemy for various uses from the everyday benign to the medicinal that I need."

If my history of alchemy was right, alchemy was either the predecessor of chemistry or helped with its development. I just needed to somehow turn them away from the bullshit that they were peddling to something more practical.

Irreo tilted his head back a little. "Forgive me for asking, your grace," he began in that strange accent of his. "I thought the Andals had the chained brethren at their beck and call?"

"Their knowledge in certain aspects is limited... alchemy for example. They are not all knowing of everything in this world of ours and thus I wish to rectify that."

It also didn't hurt that I had actual trouble in believing an institution that was based in a completely different kingdom was as impartial as it claimed to be. I mean, if Planetos wasn't such a cynical world, I'd believe they are as impartial as they claim to be, but considering that this is Planetos, I'd rather have all the learned men that I was going to be employing riverland born and bred.

"And thus, you need us." Irreo said with another wide smile as he nodded, understanding where I was getting at. "Our order has many times tried to illuminate the Andals with our knowledge but the chained brethren have always driven us away with whispered words to your lords and kings."

"So, I have learned."

It was interesting, the history of the alchemists.

The books and the tv shows never exactly explained how they came to be in Westeros. All I could remember about them was that they somehow rivalled the alchemists in influence once upon a time in Westeros' history which I always found a little silly.

Nothing was said about their origins or how they came to be like the other organisations of Westeros from the Citadel to the Faith to the Night's Watch. I suspect they were just added in as an afterthought by Martin.

Therefore, it didn't come all that much of a surprise to me when I came to learn that the alchemists are in fact, eastern in origin. I suspect that the Targaryens brought them over when they conquered the continent considering their apparent Valyrian origins.

I stepped away from my desk. "I am not those lords or kings."

Irreo looked at me with interest. "You invite our order into your realm?"

"With a few stipulations." I said with a nod.

"I suspect it has something to do with the substance." The look of surprise on my face must have been noticeable for he smiled in a rather coy manner. "Your insistence about not bringing it upon your lands was more than clue enough."

A one-sided smirk formed on my lips. "I suppose it would have but yes, it does involve the substance. If your order is to settle in my realm, your substance shall have to stay in Essos."

The wisdom nodded. "A simple request. Our order is more than the substance."

With that out of the way, Irreo set his acolytes to packing their equipment away before sending them away as we began to make some preliminary discussions about how they were going to set up in my kingdom. About what the alchemists usually do when they are not turning iron into gold or making the substance and what I expected of them.

Throughout the whole thing, I don't think the thought ever crossed Irreo that I didn't half believe he had actually turned that piece of metal into gold. That was how convinced he was to the whole mummery.

I wondered if this was anything to do with the thought of us being nothing more than barbarians to his more cultured self. It would most certainly be amusing if that was the case.

I don't think he had figured it out yet that his acolytes had more than likely given the game away.

The Corporal

The lands of Cracklaw Point were filled with nothing more than bogs, trees, caverns and more bogs. The trees were the worst of them all though as they stood at sentinel in these lands, their branches spreading out, gnarled branches reaching out.

Forrest had only been in these lands for only a moon's turn but he was sick and tired of the soldier pines. Of the sentinel trees and more than sick enough of the bogs. He was sick to death of them but yet, here he was, doing his duty as he served the realm bringing order to a land ruled by nothing more than chaos and disorder.

He shifted the halberd that rested on his shoulder to the other as he continued to move further and further into the woods of the point with thousands of other men. The men of his regiment. Men that he would gladly fight and die for.

Whether it would be against some bandits or enemies from the other kingdoms that would dare to turn their sight upon their kingdom like the stormlanders and ironborn of old. At the end of the day, it wouldn't matter, they would meet their end at the tip of their pikes or halberds or whatever ended them first.

Much like the men of the Brunes and Boggs they were currently pursuing in these woods.

This in truth was Forrest first time stepping outside the lands of the Trident. When he had joined the king's host, their officers had told them of the possibilities of eventually travelling to lands outside of the rule of Good King Edmyn, but to Forrest who had only stayed just near within the boundaries of his village, the rest of the realm might as well have been the rest of the world.

From the plains, hills and woods of the western riverlands to the southern hilly lands of the Blackwater lands to the rocky lands of the east near the Mountains of the Moon. Although all those lands were within the boundaries of the Trident, it still felt as if he had travelled the world several times over.

He had told so many stories of the people he had met and those that he had killed, bandits and enemies of the realm the times he went home back to Wexley. Father had been proud of him though his mother still worried a little too much, especially when he spoke of the battles he had found himself against all kinds of foes.

Cracklaw Point though? This was his first time truly stepping out of the lands of the Trident proper and into foreign lands. The difference was more startling than he would have thought.

He near slipped as he stepped over a decaying, old, thick branch that had fallen of some trees years ago. Damned moss. He cursed to in the back of his mind as he steadied himself and continued walking onwards, ignoring the slight sniggers from his fellows that had seen that particular mishap happen.

The moss and the bogs were the most prominent features of these lands. They seemed to be just about everywhere, just like the caverns and the trees. The land was difficult as well, that was easy enough to tell.

Difficult enough that it had driven the Brunes and Boggs to raid the Trident for its abundant grain and animals for themselves. Something that they were surely regretting by now.

His Grace did not take well to his people being raided and thus, he had set his host loose upon the Brunes and Boggs and they were paying dearly for it. The Brunes of Dyre Den were the first to fall then their cousins of Brownhollow followed suit, now all that was left were the Boggs of the Myre.

A blast of sound came from the air along with a flash of light that was able to pierce through the thick canopy of leaves above them. All around him, the men stopped and glanced up into the sky for a moment before without any kind of signal began forming ranks the best they can in their surroundings.

From one side of him, Arry made his way towards him, the red feather attached to his helmet signifying him as a sergeant. A different from the white one that upon his own helmet that showed his rank as a corporal. "Forrest!" His old friend grinned some as he waved. "Seems like we are finally about to have a good old battle."

"About time," Lesley said as he appeared from out of the blue, rolling his shoulders in idle stiffness. "the cowards finally decide to stop running and face us. I was beginning to get bored." Lesley had long since stopped being a thin reed of a boy, but he was still very much a boy at heart.

All around him, the men were forming up into ranks before a blast of a horn gave the signal to advance, the blasted trees doing their best to make sure whatever ranks they had formed were poor and not to the standard they were used to.

"There's nothing more dangerous than a cornered animal." The boy from Wexley said, eyes watching out ahead from where the flare had been loosed into the air from. "Right now, the Brunes and Boggs will be at their most dangerous. I wouldn't be so cocky if I was you."

Lesley scoffed as he held himself straight. "We smashed their pathetic little levies outside their castles. Killed one of their so-called 'champions' as well. Pathetic, the lot of them really."

Arry stepped over a rock that jutted straight out of the ground, its surface covered thick in moss. So much moss. "I saw that. Didn't you crack open his head from behind? Not something I'd brag about to be honest."

At that, Lesley grinned widely. "As long as people don't know I killed him from behind, then there's no problem. And anyway, it was the fool's fault for going charging alone into our lines like that. If it wasn't me, someone else was going to do it."

Even though they were heading into battle, the men all around them talked and acted in a manner that was all casual like. This coming battle would be the first for some, but for the rest, it would be just another battle on another day.

Forrest was already a veteran of some half a dozen engagements, most against bandits and not truly the battles that he had fought recently against the armies of the Brunes and Boggs.

The sounds of battle could now be heard in front of them, their van against the last men of the point that had chosen to resist them. Another horn blast rippled through the ranks and they began to slowly increase their pace.

Forrest gripped at the shaft of his halberd and with grim determination, looked into the distance, beyond the trees and onto the oncoming battlefield and steeled himself for the bloodshed that was to come.

The sound of battle was much louder now.

The sight in front of him was a mess from what he could see. There was no sign of an order amongst the combatants, event amongst their own men. More than likely they had been taken unawares by the pointmen.

Three horn blasts rang out and they broke into a jog.

One long blast and they surged forward in a charge, a war cry loose on their lips.

"FOR THE TRIDENT!"

Loyalty. Duty.

The castle of Seagard loomed over the Bay, looking down upon it. The smell of sea and salt was strong here for the castle was located on the furthest out from the mainland on a cliff side. Its location gave the castle a strong commanding position of this particular coast of Ironman's Bay. And the Mallisters had relished in the tasks they had given themselves, protecting the riverlands proper from the ravages of the ironborn.

So, it was something of a stain on their self-given task that Harwyn Hoare had been able to bypass Seagard and then go onto conquer the entirety of the riverlands and then some.

And when the ironborn had finally been cast out, Lord Henryck Mallister had more than relished in the thought of returning to their age-old duties, which included building something that resembled a fleet to keep the ironman at bay and away from the riverlands. The beginnings of a fleet that Axel could see at work exercising in the waters of the bay.

"Look at them," Henryck Mallister said with a sense of pride as the ships went about in one manoeuvre after another. "Beautiful, aren't they?"

Axel nodded not that he could see the beauty in the ships but in the fact that he thought it would be polite to do so. To him, the ships existed merely for the purpose of making sure that the ironmen did not mount another invasion or raid into the western coast of his brother's realm.

Speaking of which, I should see if the Bay could be renamed to something else other than Ironman's Bay.

Perhaps something like Seagard Bay or Mallister Bay? It would probably make his uncle a very happy man to have a natural feature named after his house's seat or name. Axel had long since decided a long time ago that he was going to try and erase as best as he could, any vestige of ironborn influence to the Trident.

"Amazing." The younger brother to the king said as he looked into the bay. "My brother's ideas about the production of ships have been taken well to then?"

Brother had called the innovation that he had introduced to the various workshops and factories that dotted the Red Fork near Riverrun as the assembly line, based on something that he called division of labour. It was a simple enough idea really which involved the separation of tasks and allowed specialisation that increased the rate of productivity.

It had taken some time through various trial and errors but the fruits of his brother's minds were more than showing. It was now just a matter of trying to spread the idea to other centres of production, like those of the shipwrights.

"Aye," the lord of the castle and town that shared a name said as he nodded. "though they had to be convinced somewhat."

He panned his head slightly to glance at the much older man that was his uncle. "His Grace was most ardent that no harm come upon their persons."

"And none did. I just happen to convince them that it was easier for them in the future to do what was told of them." His uncle paused for a moment. "When did Ed become a shipwright anyway? I don't remember him having anything resembling a remote interest in ships during his time here."

The second son of House Tully ignored the improper way the lord had addressed the king. He was... family after all and he seemed to be a good enough sort from what Lyam and brother had said about him... though Lord Henryck was Lyam's father so he had taken those words with a fair share of scepticism.

His words would be coloured in favour of him rather than being objective.

"His Grace has many interests." Axel replied with practiced eased. His brother's varied interests and knowledge of far-flung subject had more than gave him enough practice in giving simple, vague answers. "Interests that have helped the realm prosper in many ways."

The old lord chuckled. "Of that I'm not disagreeing with. With those little towers of his have proven themselves to be quite useful in reacting to threats from without."

Axel realised the lord was talking about his brother's semaphore towers though what interested him about what the lord had spoken was about threats from without. "So, the ironborn have begun raiding once more? Or is it the Westerlands?"

"The ironborn." The lord spoke as if he had something foul in his mouth. "Seems like they have finally gotten tired of killing each other and now want to kill others that are not ironborn."

That was worrying news.

Over the past few years, the ironborn had been most content to fight amongst themselves. Harwyn Hoare and his brothers had been able to escape back to their ancestral homelands only to find that the Driftwood crown atop the head of Vickon Greyjoy.

As with all such matters, it had devolved into war as the supporters of each claimant fought against the other. Harwyn Hoare had lost brothers and Vickon Greyjoy brothers and sons yet there was still no winner in sight.

Axel had been almost foolish enough to hope that the ironborn would wipe themselves of this very world but he knew better. If they truly did exist, the so-called gods did love their little japes amongst themselves.

"Did we capture any of the ironborn then?"

Uncle raised an eyebrow. "How did you know we won?"

He shrugged. "You wouldn't have been so excited to tell me about it if it had been a loss."

"Gods boy, you remind me so much of your father with how serious you are. Forrest was just about the same in mood and temperament." Axel thought back to his parents and realised he couldn't remember his father's face nor that of his mother. All he could remember was that his father had red hair and blue eyes, his mother blonde hair and blue eyes. He didn't know how to feel about that. "They tried to raid some land belonging to one of my bannermen, House Paynter but one of our watchtowers spotted them as they made their approach and the signal was sent through the towers. The Paynters were more than ready for them when the ironborn made landfall with riders already on their way to reinforce them."

Axel nodded. "Good." The thought of more innocent people being carried away to be thralls and saltwives much like those he had sent to Harrenhal years ago threatened to bring something dark and foul on his mood. "Good." He noticed his uncle regarding him with a look and he raised an eyebrow. He didn't really appreciate the looking. "Something on your mind, my lord?"

His uncle was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "So, tell me, what exactly is a Duke?"

"A title." He replied as he looked back into the bay were the ships were still at manoeuvres, turning this way and that at the signalling of flags. "Much like how you have the title of Warden of the Bay."

"Ah yes, the empty title that was given to me to help soften the blow that my own nephew, who I shared my hearth and home, was soon going to be taking away some of my houses ancient rights?"

Ah, it had come to this. It was about time really. "House Mallister will continue to be an important and valued house within the realm. You know this, I know this. Your heir and my cousin is already honoured with a seat in His Grace's cabinet. In fact, right now, he is across the narrow sea, building ties with the Braavosi and Pentoshi."

That was why he had been sent here to try and smooth any ruffled feathers that their supposedly loyal and leal uncle would have at some of his brother's policies that would soon be enacted in the coming moon. That, and to gain his support for the next endeavour his brother was about to go on.

Truthfully, if he had a skill for Valyrian tongue, it would have been him sent to Pentos and Braavos, but alas, he did not have a skill for languages but Lyam did. Brother thought that it would be viewed better amongst the rulers of Braavos and Pentos if they were greeted and courted with their native tongue and the language of Old Valyria.

"Nothing more than a glorified envoy or spider if you look at it in another way." The lord said, dismissing the position that had been given to his own son. "Where is the honour in that?"

"There is honour in finding us friends that would come to our aid if we so asked for it." Axel did not like doing these sorts of things. His particular set of skills were best served for the battlefield but he accepted the reasoning as to why his brother had sent him and thus, he would try his best. He wasn't about to fail Edmyn. He would not fail his brother or his family. "Braavos commands a fleet that is amongst the most powerful and numerous in the world. More than enough to make the ironborn look nothing more than flies."

The lord yawned lazily as he leaned forward onto the ramparts of his castle, looking into the distance. "Braavos is on the wrong side of Westeros. What help would that be?"

"Not if a canal is built to connect the Bay of Crabs to the Seagard Bay," he paused for a moment as his uncle looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "…Or would Mallister Bay sound better?"

That certainly got his attention but the lord acted cool. "What are you talking about?"

Axel forced himself to smile and hoped that his smile didn't seem forced. His smiles weren't as easy as his brother's. Alys did always tell him that his genuine smiles were far better than the ones he forced on himself. Brother really should have sent someone else. Lord Darry even. "As I said, House Mallister is a valued house within the realm that my brother is building. Think to yourself my lord, has my brother failed you or your house ever since he took his kingship? He gave Seagard a city charter, a charter many kings before him had refused to so even do, a method of tax collection and accounting that has seen your coffers grow. Your farmers bring in larger harvests," it galled at Axel that he had to convince the lord to simply trust his brother despite everything he had done for him. "With my brother as king, House Mallister had seen their prestige and wealth increase and even now, he has a grand project to be begun in the future that would see Seagard increase in wealth even more."

"This... canal." The lord said, slowly. He turned to face the bay once more. "You said it connects the Bay of Crabs to the... Bay of Eagles, yes?"

The Tully scion had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the stroking of the man's pride and ego. "Yes. Think of all the wealth that would come to Seagard. You would be amongst the richest houses in all of the realm, perhaps even Westeros."

The lord was quiet for a moment before he sighed and turned to face him, standing up straight and not slouched on the ramparts. "Apologies nephew. I should have held myself better there. What would my king ask of me?"

That was too easy. Axel felt that was too easy but he kept his suspicions to himself. "My brother means to host the lords of the realm at Riverrun soon."

The lord nodded. "I know, I received the letter."

"He also plans to introduce a code of law for the entirety of the realm, a code of law that the lords shall willingly accept with your help."

His uncle raised an eyebrow in interest. "And how would that happen, exactly? House Mallister is influential, but not that influential. The western lords might very well listen to me, but not those of the east, north or south."

Axel shook his head. "You don't have to convince anybody anything. All you shall have to do uncle is when the time comes, stand-up and agree. That is all."

Lord Mallister reared his head back a little in suspicion. "What exactly shall I be agreeing to?"

"A code of law uncle." Axel looked back at him, daring him to defy him. "After all, laws are what separates us from the savages north of the wall and across these very waters as well."

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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TryingToBeKuw

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I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

May 11, 2018

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#570

Book Two

5 BCE

Riverrun

It was a grand pavilion filled to bursting with the highest lords and lowliest lords of the realm. In all his years, Malcom never thought that there would come a time where he would be brushing shoulders with the likes of the Lords Blackwood, Brackens, Buckwells and Mallisters. And those were the few great lords of the realm he had come within a suitable contact with.

Now, House Terrick was no lowly house, but even he wouldn't dare to presume that they were the equals of such houses that he had named. At best, Malcom would say House Terrick was of middling influence with a long history that could be traced all the way back to the times of the First Men.

Hells, they had even married into more prominent houses. Other lords of his liking would have boasted about that but not him. He could make a guess as to the fact that those houses most likely wed off lesser sons and daughters or distant kin away.

When one thought about it, there was nothing to be proud off when it came to accepting the unwanted scrapings of one's betters. It was merely the way of things. Therefore, it was quite a surprise to find himself in this gathering of the lords of the realm.

"What do you think this is all about, Malcom?" Perwyn Grell asked as he sat beside him. Like the Terricks, the Grells were a middling house of no great import and standing, but they did well enough on their own.

Malcom moved his shoulders as he shrugged, looking down below to where the young king of the Trident was in talks to some of the greater lords of the realm that had arrived. "Gods know Perry. Matters that don't concern lords the likes of us, most like."

His old friend made a sound. "Well, considering that we have been fattening ourselves on the king's largesse, I think we are about to receive some bad news you know? Make us content before dropping something foul and heavy upon us."

"You don't know that." The lord of Hawksfair replied, softly. He then pointed to the front. "Look, the lords are taking their seats. I think this... this..." He searched for a word that could best describe what was happening before he eventually came to one. "Parliament is about to begin."

"Parliament..." Perry repeated, tasting the word. "Hm, that's not half a bad word to use to describe this gathering of the realm's notable. A parliament of all the lords of the realm. I wouldn't mind this happening some more."

"Truly?"

Perry grinned at him wickedly. "Truly. I don't care much for this part, but if every parliament like this happens to involve all the festivities and feasting that we had been subjected to, I wouldn't mind at all! Hells, I might even find a lord who would be able to take some of my sons and daughters of my hands! Now this would make this more than worth it!"

They had been seated in the stands that was in the shape of a 'U'. Where Malcom and his companion sat was somewhere not too near the front, the places of honour were the greater lords sat, but not too far at the back were the lesser lords were sat. The lesser lords might find themselves looking down on many of their betters but it was the furthest distance away from where the king sat with his council and thus, not a place of honour that such a raised seat would imply.

In one way, the king had honoured the lesser lords and in another, he had firmly reminded them of their place. Perhaps there was a certain low cunning to the young man that the great lords of the realm had declared their king. Well, he did need to have a certain amount of cunning, after all, if he had been able to convince his liege lord somehow pay for his royal host, then surely there was more to the man.

There was still much he couldn't say about Edmyn, having only seen him from a distance and only heard about him from all the bards and the mummers that seemed to have no end as they continued to sing and mummer praises about him and his brother. All their songs and mummery made it seem as if the brothers Tully were less men and more akin to gods.

Malcom though, saw no god or divinity when he looked upon him. Just a man.

A brave young man that had taken on Harren the Black and won where many had failed long before him.

Those little facts alone told him that perhaps, there was more to this young man than meets the eye.

The king moved forth, towards a raised table that held a tome of some kind. He had seen the tome in passing when he had made his way towards his seat and it had been strangely familiar to him, yet he couldn't quite place where he had seen it before.

"My lords and ladies!" The king spoke out, the iron timbres of his voice carrying throughout the grand pavilion easily. Malcom Terrick would grudgingly admit that there was a certain aspect to his voice that he liked. "I want to thank you all for coming here, but before we start with matters of state, I have to ask for the sake of propriety, have you all been enjoying yourselves!?"

"Aye!" The crowd of lords roared out, the volume so loud it made it his ears tremble and he worried that he would be made deaf.

The young king laughed loudly. "That's good to hear! I feared there wouldn't be enough entertainment for all of you! Thank the gods, now my lovely queen can finally leave me be in peace!" The crowd chuckled at the king's jest and Malcom couldn't help but crack a smile himself.

Even he knew the weight of an overbearing wife.

"Yet, if you found yourself not yet filled on the festivities, have no worries, for we still have a weeks' worth of drinking, feasting, tourneys, songs, races and mummery to content ourselves with."

"Don't forget the fucking!" A lord shouted from the front of the seats.

The king laughed along with the rest of them at the outburst. "Well yes, there's that to but I'm a married man now who took his vows in front of the gods. I think I shall leave the fucking to younger and more eager men than me." Amidst the laughter, the king placed a hand on the tome that Malcom had still to name. "Now, on to the crux of the matter, my lords. Over the past couple of years, ever since I was declared your king, I have been working to turn our fledgling kingdom into a force to be reckoned with.

The Hoares called themselves the Kings of the Isles and Rivers. I spit on that! They were no kings! They weren't even good, honest rivermen like me and all of you! No, they were just tyrants who used us for their own means, never caring about the suffering they brought to us and our people and lands! Seven hells, they even rule! They turned us against each other, plying one house against the other becase they knew they would not stand a single chance against a force of united and just rivermen! Rivermen from the likes of House Charlton, Grell,"

Perry immediately shot up, his back straightening and his ears perked, taking everything in. It seemed as if he had finally become invested in all of this mummery.

"Erendford, Butterwell, Mooton." The king paused for a moment from his listing. Eyes bright as blue as possible, even from as far back as he sat, roamed the stands and it seemed as if he was looking at each and every lord. "I think you all get what I'm trying to say. The Hoares didn't rule us. They never did. They were no kings. No... I name them tyrants! I would also name the Durrandons that came before them tyrants! Invaders! Foreign lords that came to take our lands and its riches for themselves! None of them could be compared to the riverkings of old! The Mudds! Fishers! Justmans! I could say the Teagues but nobody likes those cunts, so fuck them!" He finished to laughter.

The young king stopped for a moment, his expression softening as circled the stand where the tome sat, fingers idly tracing it gently as if it was a babe. When he spoke, his voice was of a softer bent than before. "Unlike those storied kings of old, House Tully did not become riverkings through means of conquest. In fact, it was more through a wild fire that spread throughout the land the moment I raised my banners up in rebellion, tired of seeing my fellow rivermen mistreated underneath the rule of not only an unjust king, but a foreigner as well." He faced the lords once more, the smile on his face one of pride, eyes glistening and chest swelled with pride. "And with that single act, that breeze, that promise of a message told and told again moved across the land, from the mouth of the Blackwater to the marshes of the Neck. That breeze turned into a wind as the message and promise was told over and over again, of our lady freedom and how it was now time for us to take fate into our hands. Of course, during that time, somebody had to be trusted with the heavy weight of a ruler... and I was chosen despite the presence of lords and men greater than me.

"I did not become king through the right of conquest. I became king through the consensus of great men. Of great lords. I do not want to betray that trust placed upon me by turning into a tyrant. Kingdoms, civilisation itself, is built on strong foundations, foundations that can last for eternity. My lords, do you know what that foundation is?" He asked the pavilion before giving anyone a chance to answer, he answered his own question. "Law. From Dorne to the Wall, every kingdom is built upon laws. After all, if we didn't follow laws, we wouldn't be any more different to the barbarians of the Mountains of the Moon, from the wildlings beyond the Wall, from the Dothraki that rape, pillage and burn their way across Essos."

He tapped the tome, bringing Malcom's attention to it. "And this here, is the work of the finest legal minds that I could get my hands on. Through long days and even longer hours, they worked day and night to draft and codify the divest laws, customs and traditions of our land into a single legal system that can easily be interpreted. Of course, I do not plan to force this on you, that is why some time back, I had copies of this great tome of law sent to every single house from landed knights to the greatest of lords in the kingdom."

The king's words reverberated through his ears for a moment before Malcom blinked as realisation slowly forced itself upon him. Which each creeping moment, his eyes widened as he realised why that tome had seemed so familiar to him. A rider in the night had come to deliver it to Hawksfair. He had taken a few looks at the tome before leaving it to the maester to go over.

"Oh fuck." he found himself muttering. He didn't know that damnable tome would be something so important!

Looking around, it seemed many of his fellow lords seemed confused about what the king meant and sometimes, he saw others shared the same look of realisation as his own.

The king looked around, his brows cocked up and his expression bewildered as he asked. "Surely my lords, you all read it?"

Perry turned to him and leaned in close. "What in the seven hells is he talking about?"

"Didn't you receive the tome?"

"No! Yes! Probably!" His old friend seemed to not know as he answered him with a flurry of contradictory answers. "Look at the size of that thing! It's even bigger than that stupid Seven-pointed thing for the love of all that is good and holy! Hells, it's bigger than the books I have seen in my maester's chambers! Why the fuck would I read something like that?"

Where the great lords sat, Lord Henryck Mallister stood up tall and confidently, nodding his head firmly. "Of course, your grace, I read it!" Then Lord Walter Frey rose up with the help of his son and bellowed out a loud. "Aye!" Lord Jon Mooton also then moved to stand up and quietly nodded to show that he had read the tome as well.

Seeing all these great lords rise caused the other lords to rise and follow their example as they bellowed out their own confirmation as to having read the great tome of supposed law.

Malcom couldn't help but wonder how many of them had actually read the book of law so when it came to it, he yelled out 'Aye!' In consensus with everybody else. It wouldn't look good for him if he was to be the only discontent voice amongst the choruses that thundered throughout the pavilion. his standing amongst his peers would surely take a hit and he would more than likely acquire the enmity from the king and his close allies.

Something he most certainly did not want or need.

The king looked positively elated like that of a child as he smiled widely to everybody and everyone. "Then I shall write into law for this new Body of Civil & Military Law to be in effect before the moon's pass!"

At the end of it all, Malcom Terrick couldn't help but feel that he had been truly and utterly been fucked up the arse.

The parliament soon ended not long after though not after a few more feasts and tourneys to be held by the king with generous purses for the winner. Malcom had been in no mood to take part in the tourney or the melee as his mind always went back to the events of that pavilion.

Many of his fellow lords seemed to have already forgotten about it as they quickly dived back into the business of feasting and drinking. The lord didn't even think that many of them where even going to be bothered to see to what they had actually agreed to.

Malcom stayed around long enough to not be seen as rude despite the urge to ride back as soon as possible to Hawksfair. Despite his worrying about this tome of law, this parliament was an excellent way for him to communicate with many lords, some belonging to houses that he didn't even know existed from the far corners of the realm.

It was a good a place as any to build relations with other houses and potentially find suitable matches for his own children, though he aimed to keep himself well out of the game the lords liked to play. His aim in life was to do nothing more than raise a respectable house and family.

Involving himself in the game would do nothing more than put all of that at risk.

"Stop worrying." Perry said as they rode back to their lands after the parliament had come to a close.

His old friends lack of caring about what exactly he had so enthusiastically agreed to was worrying but not exactly unforeseen. Malcom took to his duties a fair bit more serious than Perry. "I can't help but worry. What if this new body of law involves something that might very well infringe on us?"

Lord Grell yawned lazily. "Did you not hear the man? He aimed to not be a tyrant. Infringing on our ancient rights marks him as that."

Malcom felt the urge to pull at his hairs but controlled himself. "There might be some laws that we do not like."

"Then we shall just take it up with the king then." The lord replied with a shrug. "You heard the rumours, yes? The king plans to make the parliaments a more regular thing. If there is something we do not like, take it up during then."

The urge was stronger now. "Perry," he breathed out, slowly. "We just agreed to his tome of laws a few days back with hundreds of other lords as witnesses to our agreement on the stipulation that we did in fact read the body of laws. Bringing it up during the next parliament will result in us revealing to the rest of the lords that we did not in fact, read such a body! Would you be willing to bathe in the humiliation that would follow suit?"

His old friend foundered some as the stark truth seemed to finally hit him. "No... no I would not." His lips spread thinly across his face. A bitter smile it was. "We've just been ploughed right up the arse, haven't we?"

A stiff nod was Malcom's answer.

"Fuck."

They rode in silence for the next few moments of their journey, down the wide, paved and cambered roads that had ditches dug at the side for the rainwater and markers for distance every single mile. There were these large inns that could host hundreds of travellers located just a day's ride away in whatever direction that had been given the name caravaners by the king. This was just one of the many roads that the Frey knight had seen to be built on the orders of the king.

It was said that the network of roads stretched throughout the entirety of the kingdom, thousands and thousands of paved roads much like this connecting settlement to settlement. What was strange about it all was that he had heard rumours during the parliament that the roads did not in fact lead to Riverrun although the castle and its growing castle town was at a nexus of roads, much like Harrenhal. It was said the roads centred somewhere near Lord Harroway's Town at the confluence of the Trident.

Perhaps the laws won't be so bad. Malcom thought as they passed a travelling merchant who led his wagon to the side and showed the proper respect due to a lord. Hawksfair has grown rich with the building of the roads and the trade it brings to my lands. The king has done well for us. The seed drill, threshing machine... perhaps it won't be so bad.

They came to a point where the road split into two. "Well, I'll be going this way then." Perry said as he held himself off at the side, their retinues continuing to travel their respective destinations. "Probably go have a chat with Peremore and see if there's anything I should be worried about with this body of laws."

"The king has done well for us Perry. I wouldn't put too much worry into it."

His old friend blinked for a moment, in surprise. "But you said-."

"I know what I said, old friend." Malcom said as he cut him off. "Ed-… His Grace has done well for us. You've seen the travellers, the peddlers, the merchants. Would it be so hard to put some faith into him that he has the best of intentions for the realm at large?"

Perry's jaw quivered for a moment before it hardened. "No. I suppose not."

Malcom smiled at him. Oh, he knew Perry was going to go and make sure that Peremore told him the intricacies of this book of law, much like he was going to do with Eustace when he made it back to his lands and castle.

A great shadow passed over them, bathing them in its colours. The sudden appearance of the shadow set the horses off but the riders eventually got them back under control just as soon as the shadow passed.

Perry made to look up. "Strange, it's a clear day where-." He stopped as his jaw dropped as he looked off into the distance.

Curious, Malcom followed his old friend's gaze up into the sky towards the direction of Riverrun and much like his old friend, his jaw nearly dropped.

That was by far the largest bird he had ever seen in his life.

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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342

TryingToBeKuw

May 11, 2018

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Threadmarks Ch. 2.3 New

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TryingToBeKuw

TryingToBeKuw

I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

May 30, 2018

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#662

Book Two

5 BCE

Harrenhal

By now, I had thought the particular feeling of pride had now been worn away but I couldn't help but find myself pleasantly pleased and by now, pride at what I was seeing in front of me. Well-oiled and drilled killing machines ready to be turned on enemies of the kingdom. I was also quite positive that hands down, I had the best foot in all of the seven-no wait, its eight kingdoms now.

I had the best foot in the eight kingdoms... that didn't have the same catchy overtunes as seven but the point was;

The stormlanders can go suck it.

They had their little levies. I had well-armoured and armed infantry and they were less likely to go down to some pansy little arrows as well.

…

It was amazing that I could recall such a tiny fact that in canon, the stormlands had apparently the best foot out of the canon Seven Kingdoms. I mean, it was nice to know, but not exactly something useful that I could use to further prolong my life in this hell-hole. Oh well, nothing could be done about it anyway. Hopefully, the next little nugget of information that I could recall would be of more use than that.

But back to my army.

It was coming along quite nicely in my own humble opinion. This here was the latest batch of recruits to finish their fourteen week long basic training and with the way they held themselves, I liked what I was seeing. With this latest batch of recruits, it would now mean that I had three regiments of professional soldiers to call upon, just a little over eight thousand men fully armed and armoured in steel.

Well, there was probably less than eight thousand now considering the operations currently happening in Crackclaw Point against the Boggs and Brunes. Never thought that call to action would happen so quick but I guess I had to deal with my own version of wildlings from the lords of the Point.

It would not be wrong to say we rather steam-rolled through whatever opposition the Boggs and Brunes set-up and the question of what to do next was being asked more frequently by my advisers, each with their own ideas and notions of what should happen next.

Still though, those particular matters of state could wait for later. Right now, it was about these men in front of me. This latest group of men that were going to be inducted into the oversized regiment that was based in Harrenhal and act as a strategic reserve with the other regiments already out and about.

The other regiments were already deployed, one to the south where the three hills were King's Landing was built as located. The area was of particular great strategic interest due to the fact that a large enough crossing for armies was located near those hills and fortifying our side of the crossing seemed to make sense from a basic armchair military point of view.

It was kind of amusing to me due to the fact that one regiment was doing what they had been trained to do whilst another was currently being nothing more than glorified labourers. I'm sure that many of them were probably wondering whether it had been worth it, doing all of those drills all to just chop wood and build some forts. To that, I would say that they had short shovels among their standard equipment for a reason, so they might as well start to use them.

If some of my advisers got their way, those shovels were certainly going to be seeing a lot of use in the future in the Point.

A thousand men stood in parade in front of me, the shadow of Harrenhal looming behind them. Harren's folly reached out to cast as much of the world in its shadow. The steel mills had been doing their job, producing the arms and armour of my men. The rate of production increasing as they got used to the new means of production available to them and apprentices actually doing some actual blacksmithing helped increase the rate of production as well.

These well-oiled and drilled killing machines were dressed in half-armour that had a trident engraved at the front and a crowned leaping trout engraved onto the shoulder pauldrons. Underneath the armour, they wore a red dyed gambeson, which, despite being cloth, was quite effective making sure people didn't die too much. The combination was finished off with a nicely topped open faced helmet that provided protection to the cheek, with a nose guard, a cap to protect from rain and falling arrows allowing with a tailed off laminated defence for the back of the head and neck.

Like I said, I had the best damned infantry of any of the kingdoms.

And I made sure to appraise them thoroughly as I walked up and down the parade, eyeing them like a hawk eyes a cowering mouse from hundreds of feet in the air. Strange analogy, I know, but I made sure to give them the best stern king stare I could muster.

These being the last of the recruit and their first time seeing me in person or so close, and to make it worse, the rest of their regiment was standing at parade right behind them. Probably watching in amusement at the greenhorns get themselves eyed by the king.

After all, they had been on the receiving end of this particular ceremony before, with others watching on in amusement and now, it was their turn.

I came to a halt in front of one century and craned my neck to the last man and then back again. "Who is the captain of this fine group of men?" I asked.

Stupid question, I already knew who the man was. It was the guy with the red and white feather plume decorating his helmet. Said man stepped forward, his helmet held at his hip, tucked in underneath his arm.

"That would be me your grace, Jason Whent." The young man replied, eyes staring straight forward.

From what I could recall from canon it was that, until Oswell Whent, House Whent did not produce any significant people of note... or anybody of note until said humourless Kingsguard came into existence. On the other hand, House Strong was a thing here at the lower end of the nobility but they did produce more notables than the Whents when it came to Westerosi history.

Apart from that, it was quite surprising that I had only come across a few lordlings that actually came from my more influential and principle bannermen. A Mallister cousin and a Goodbrook. That was the only names that came to mind.

Giving him one final look over, I noticed that he was quite comely to look at, tall, dark and handsome. "Tell your men to take a knee, captain." He did as I asked and quickly barked an order to his century and they all dropped to one knee, setting their helmets aside. I made to stand in the middle and recited words that I had said thousands of times before. "Do you all swear to hold to the standards required of men of the Army of the Trident?"

The men all said as one. "Aye, I do."

"Do you all swear to hold allegiance and faith in House Tully of Riverrun, the anointed Royal House of the Kingdom of the Trident?"

"Aye, I do."

"Do you all swear to oppose all the enemies of your king and those who threaten the peace and lives of the subjects of the Kingdom?"

"Aye, I do."

"Then, I, Edmyn, First of His Name of House Tully order you to rise, as loyal men sworn to defend House Tully and our kingdom from those who threaten it."

"the men stood as one and a cheer erupted from the older ranks at the back that were spectating the ceremony. I nodded once more and Jason Whent stepped back into his century and I moved onto the next one.

"Papa," young Cirilla Tully made her way towards me, a goblet of water held in-between her small hands. She stopped just short in front of me and with all the care she could muster, raised the goblet up towards me, making sure that none of the contents within would be spilled. "I thought you might be thirsty, so I got you this!"

I took the goblet of water with some extra movement just to show how much I appreciated the thought, an action that brought a giggle to the young girl's lips. "Thank you. My throat was rather feeling a little dry."

The little girl bobbed her head up and down, red tresses of hair tumbling about her little head. "You did do a lot of talking." She then paused for a moment and frowned. "And walking. Aren't you tired?"

I was actually both but I was of the mind that people shouldn't be seeing me sweat, both in this life and my older one. Showing signs of weakness was never really something I could just do honestly. I blamed it on the fact that it was basically a British national trait.

"It takes more than some walking to tire me out." I said as my legs felt like jelly.

Next time, I was going to have people carry me around when I'm inducting the recruits into the forces proper. Palanquins were a thing and I have seen them being used, despite the sheer fact that the notion of me being carried around gnawed at something inside me.

Apparently, I had something resembling pride, what little of it that I had.

Cirilla Tully, yes, I had named my child after a video game character and I was not ashamed to admit to it if someone called me out on it, but that was never going to happen. This was simply because the Witcher was basically unheard off in this world.

Now that I think about it, it would be somewhat hilarious if the actual Ciri made an appearance in this world. She did have that world hopping powers of hers and well... considering everything else, why the hell not?

The little princess adorably climbed onto a seat that was a little too high for her. "Was I proper?" She asked all innocently, kicking the air from where she sat. "the entire ceremony was soo boring but I didn't want to yawn or it would be embarrassing."

For a five-year-old, my daughter was amazingly enough well-spoken. Making my way towards her, I leaned down and cupped her chin in my hand and stared at her Tully blue eyes. "You were amazing. You and your brother."

She giggled at my words, playfully trying to escape the grip of my cupping hand. "Alfie was so bad though!" She said in a tone that spoke of a scandalous secret. "He kept fidgeting not long after we came! I had to keep him straight or it would all have been a disaster!"

I doubt it would have been that bad but I let the little girl have her moment as I ruffled her hair in amusement much to her squealing.

In my continued bid to make sure the soldiers knew who they were fighting for and who to throw their lives away for, I had made a habit of bringing about the wife and kids for ceremonies such as this. I had made sure that Zhoe and the kids had been sat in places of honour where everybody could see them.

I think the effect worked wonders when Zhoe was visibly pregnant with a swollen middle or when she held either of my two babes in her hands. I might not have studied public relations or knew the most technical details of the art, but I figured I knew a little bit about this and that when it came to swaying large swatches of people.

Pregnant women, babies and little children always brought out a certain image and feeling that I was unabashedly taking advantage off. Did that make me a bad person? Of course not! Considering the setting that I was in.

Actually, speaking of Witcher and Planetos... which world was worse? The games did not paint the Continent in a very good light... could it be considered a blessing that I had found myself in Westeros in the body of a nobleman? I think it could.

"Papa," Ciri asked when she noticed that I had been staring off into the distance a little too much. "Is something the matter?"

Lightly shaking my head, I stood up. "No, nothing is the matter. Where is your brother anyway?"

She pouted cutely as she crossed her arms. "He went exploring, dragging Septa Marcella and the sers with him. Why is Alfie so rowdy? Couldn't he be proper?"

"It's fine. He'll calm down when he's older."

Hopefully.

Hot-heads were something I really had no program on how to deal with.

"I have to say, your royal husband has a prodigious talent in getting you with child." Joanna stretched in the reclined seat much like a cat as a gentle breeze rolled in through the open veranda windows. A lazy eye opened to glance at her for a moment. "Which number is it now, four, five?"

Her sister was baiting her, Zhoe knew but she couldn't help but take the bait. Their little squabbling's were always thing she found enjoyable. "You know the number."

"I do?" She asked all innocently. "I don't think I do. Be a dutiful sister and remind this old biddy could you? Don't make me call in one of those poor little souls that wait on you hand and foot and ask them."

Zhoe scoffed at her sister's threat as she enjoyed the gentle breeze as much as she could, her hands softly cradling the growth in her middle. "This would be the third one if you have so much forgotten."

Joanna made a noise. "You really have been busy." Her sister directed attention to her own growing middle. "I somewhat feel jealous."

"You say that now but wait till the birthing bed and see if you are feeling that then."

Her first birth had been quite the terrifying ordeal for her even though she had put on a brave face. Mother had been nice enough to tell her of what to expect, of the pain, of the feelings and cravings and everything in-between. Still though, even with all that knowledge it had been a harrowing experience and if anything, Zhoe would like to say that Mother had been grossly understating the entire ordeal.

The fatigue, pain and weariness she had felt during the birth had disappeared had found itself slowly pushed to the back of her head as the babe's crying reached her ears. The babe had such a healthy pair of lungs, full of vigour and strength that she had been sure that it had been a boy until the maester had declared the babe a girl.

Even now, Zhoe felt ashamed at the dark thoughts and feelings that came to mind when the announcement had been made... there was nothing wrong with having a girl... but a girl was not a boy.

Father had said as much even in as gentle a manner as he could muster. Even Zhoe knew that a pale had always hung above mother's head until the birth of Bryndon. A noble house always needed an heir and a spare and as she stroked her middle as gentle as she could, she made a silent prayer to the gods, old and new, for the spare to Alfred.

"I think I'll enjoy it." Joanna was saying as she nibbled on some grapes. "the maester said that women take to the birthing bed differently. Some might dread it and other might very well welcome it."

"So, you say you shall welcome it?" She asked, an eyebrow raised in interest. "You are aware its quite a painful process, yes?"

Her sister smiled at her wickedly. "I like a little pain. Harrison and I find that it adds some flavour to our beddings."

"That's a little too improper thank you very much sister."

Joanna laughed loudly that Zhoe wondered if the entire castle had heard her laughing. Her sister could very well have lungs that could rival that of the good lord Goodbrook.

At the very least, it was nice to hear that her sister had found her marriage to the heir to Castle Rosby agreeable with her. Father and Edmyn had worked hard to find a suitable husband that was worthy enough for her sister's hand whilst at the same time would not mistreat her.

It did not hurt that the young lord knew quite well that mistreating the goodsister of the king would probably not end well for him. Edmyn had given as much as an idea in his dealings with the lordling.

She smirked at the thought of her husband finally trying to use the reputation that he had so thoroughly built and earned to achieve one goal or another. Even after years of marriage and knowing him, Edmyn was an... interesting person at best and confusing at worst.

He was a generous, kind man. Honourable, thoughtful and diligent when it came to his duties as king. Despite all those good traits, Zhoe had noticed that he seemed quite unwilling to use his power when the time came for it.

When the Brunes and their savage ilk had started their raids into Mooton and other lands, her royal husband had sought diplomacy first, despite the counselling of Father and other lords who knew how the savages of the point worked.

Father had found it all rather strange. "He has a host. He is taxing the highborn of his kingdom to pay for the standing force of armed men yet he seems unwilling to use said men for their exact purpose." She could recall Father not exactly ranting but somewhat letting his feelings known on the subject in the most expressive way he could without raising his voice.

After another raid, Edmyn had eventually committed his forces into the point against the Boggs and their allies. Zhoe thought that there was nothing wrong with a king that valued peace but she worried that his cautiousness could very well be mistaken for weakness by his enemies.

And as his power and the power of their kingdom grew, they were more than likely gain enemies.

"Zhoe, are you even listening to me?"

"Hm?" The queen replied as she was forced out of her thoughts by the snapping of fingers by her sister. "What is it?"

Joanna narrowed her eyes at her for a moment before she spoke. "Quite simple really, the court is still abuzz about the sighting of that monstrous bird."

"Bird? Oh, you mean the dragon!"

"So, it was a dragon?"

Zhoe shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant manner as she relaxed some more, enjoying the smell of burning incense that smelled of lavender. "The king and the Grand Maester seemed to think so. I'd defer to their more learned opinion than whatever current rumour is going around court."

"The Targaryens then?" Joanna said with interest. "I hear they are inhumanely beautiful. Like no man, perhaps as beautiful and perfect as the gods themselves."

"Don't let Byron hear you say that. He'll claim heresy... or is it blasphemy?"

"I think the correct term would be blasphemy." her sister replied with a chuckle. "It doesn't matter though for what I speak would be true. All the books do say that the children of Valyria and the dragonlords especially were something else."

Zhoe felt the urge to roll her eyes but instead took a breath of air. "The books say a lot of things sister. Some of them true, more often than not, it's mostly lies."

"Dear sister, when did you become such a cynic? I remember you believed just about everything." Her sister said with a laugh.

Her question did catch her by surprise as it forced her to think a little more about herself. She now did question things a little more but she doubted that made her a cynic. With her new role and duties, she could not afford to believe everything that she was told and take it at face value, that would be just foolish.

"Who knows sister..." She said with a bemused smile on her face at the thought. "who knows..."

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018

Stories of mine you can read at your own pleasure.

Forged In The Trident [ASOIAF AU]

ATIF: Surge of Storms [ASOIAF AU]

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TryingToBeKuw

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TryingToBeKuw

TryingToBeKuw

I used to care, then I discovered Dark Souls.

Jun 5, 2018

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#774

Book Two

5 BCE

Riverrun

It was Star Wars that got me into stick fighting.

Technically, it was the cool laser sticks of the Jedi and Sith that got me into stick fighting but since they are pretty much synonymous with Star Wars. Therefore, it would be correct to say that it was actually Star Wars that got me into the young boy fading of whacking another human being with some kind of stick in a mockery of combat.

From my memories, I can definitely remember the fun I had running around waving sticks pretending to be a Dark Lord of the Sith or that one time I actually used my lightsaber that the OG Mum had bought for my birthday. My friends were also into Star Wars and had their own lightsabers, me being the only one cool enough to even dare to have a red one.

Now that I think about it, perhaps the fact that I found the Sith to be somewhat cool said a lot of things about me now that I think about it. It sort of explains why I always seemed to root for the bad guys. Thrawn's Empire was decent. The Fel Empire was decent. Nilfgaard was iffy but considering the states of the other northern kingdoms apart from maybe Kovir and Pontiss, I think I'm safe in that regard.

Introspective reflections on my apparent affinity towards morally dubious organisations and states aside, Star Wars and the cool battles between lightsaber users was the thing that got me into stick fighting.

Well, for like a month before I ended up with broken fingers after a mock combat with a mate of mine had resulted in quite the solid hit on my hand. I had been hit before and it had hurt but the time spent in A&E waiting to be seen to made me re-evaluate my infatuation with something of a hobby-slash-sport that could seriously leave me injured.

After that, I threw away the wooden branches and locked away the lightsabers, vowing then and there, the only hobbies I will have were of the much more benign video-games and the likes.

Therefore, much to my amusement, I had found myself once again stickfighting and not just with children but grown ass men with blunted objects that very much left bruises on the body despite all the padding and armour worn.

Axel was stupidly fast and stupidly strong.

Every time his blunted blade battered at my shield, I always felt that if this had been my original body which wasn't exactly built for strength, I would have been sent flying several times over. Thankfully, this body did have some measure of strength to it that could take the heavy hits of my younger sibling with some semblance of grace and dignity.

His prowess with the blunted sword in hand demanded my attention every single time but apparently because I was a glutton for punishment, I had also figured that I should also have another formidable opponent in the captain of the guard, Ser Garrett as an additional opponent.

In our spars, the captain preferred to lurk in the background and let us two brothers batter at each other before pouncing on any opening he saw. An opening like the one Axel had just given him by forcing me to back track.

I still had a leg off the ground when I caught movement on my peripheral vision as the ser came in fast and hard with shield charge that sent me flying to the side. Skidding and sliding on the training yard for a small distance, I wondered if Ser Garrett knew that I was the one who paid him.

He could be a little bit gentler in his treatment of me in situations such as this.

"Papa!" Alfred shouted from the side, having decided that it was high time that he watched his father get his ass kicked or something. With the fury of a four-year-old, he tried to wrestle himself free of his governess' which was essentially just fidgeting about. "Lemme go! I can help him!"

I very much appreciated the care he felt for me but I doubt he would be of any help in this situation.

Septa Marcella was making a good effort though at keeping the young prince restrained and tried to sooth him. "Calm child, your royal father is alright. See?"

She directed his attention to me as I bounced back to my feet, having grown tired of admiring the clouds and just positively relishing to get back into the meat grinder. I made a show of being really enthusiastic about all this by bashing my blunted sword to the shield in a 'come on' manner.

Thankfully, the practice helmet I wore was a full helm and thus nobody would see that I was near close to tears at the torture I was putting myself through despite all the good reasons I was telling myself this was for. I really wanted to do a hundred other things than this but the setting I found myself in did not at all give me that sort of luxury.

"Is that the best you have Axel? Ser Garrett?" I taunted in a jovial manner. "Ciri hits harder than that."

Some light laughing went about the training yard from the observers that had nothing better to do than watch me getting my ass kicked. I could have been worried about the optics of me getting my ass kicked except that I had made sure that my two opponents were some of the best knights or warriors or whatever that was within reach.

People could possibly bitch about me getting my ass kicked by a bunch of nobodies all they want but not so much if I'm going against noted warriors such as the ones I was facing right now.

People saw Ser Garrett fight multiple opponents in the training yard whenever he was training the knights and castle guard. They knew how badass he was.

Axel had made a name for him during our little rebellion against Harren and then proved himself even more when he was bringing peace to the land from the roving band of bandits and thugs that had deemed themselves freedom fighters when the ironborn had been driven out of the kingdom.

In other words, getting my ass kicked by badasses was far better optics than getting my ass kicked by not-badasses.

Honestly, considering some of the cheers and the looks of approval at the end of this particular training sessions brought from the observers thrown my way, I figured I was doing something right or that I was not making a complete ass of myself and was giving a good accounting for myself.

Behind his own full helm, Axel spoke, his helmet giving his voice a booming quality to it that seemed wholly out of character considering the type of person that he was. "She must be a right terror then. Remind me not to anger her at some point."

Said princess cheered and laughed from the side lines and spoke playfully. "You already have uncle!"

Axel snorted from behind his helmet before a single movement of the helmet between him and the ser told me they were about to come for me once more. They moved in tandem, crossing the space between us with quite some speed.

Of course, I wasn't about to just go on the defensive once more so I attacked.

I didn't roar, I probably should have roared for the dramatic effect but I had never been a roaring person of any kind so I just silently rushed forward to meet them. Well, sort-off.

The distance narrowing between us, I did something that I had done quite a few times in my old life. I threw myself at the ground, leg extend forward and promptly to the surprise of Axel, sending him tumbling to the ground with a crash from the slide tackle.

Having done my fair share of sliding tackles in my first life, I happened to know all the tricks and trade of getting back on your feet quickly from the tackle itself. So, with my trailing leg tucked somewhat underneath my ass, I kicked myself back up to my feet, turned on a dime and charged at Ser Garrett.

From my interactions with the captain of the guard, I had come to learn that he was somewhat like Ser Ethan Blackwood but with a bit more chattiness to him than the Blackwood knight. In other words, it was always difficult to see what exactly he was thinking at any opportune moment.

I liked to think that at this very moment as he turned to face me, behind that helmet of his, he had a look of goddam surprise on his face as I pounced on him like a goddamn lion, shield first with all my weight behind it that sent him reeling back to the applause and cheers of spectators at the sudden turnabout in the bout.

"Riverrun!" Alfred cheered with excited laughter, having forgotten to try and get his own hands on Ser Garrett much to the relief of the septa. "Tully! Tully!"

Keeping up with the moment, I launched a number of thrusts and swings of all kinds in the direction who took them all, still reeling and unfooted from my earlier attack on him. Despite the constant assaults, the older knight was able to regain some footing and lash out with a slash to create some space for us which I obliged with by swaying away from the path of the blunted sword but immediately dived back into the fight.

Something came to mind from something I read a long time ago so I tried to apply it to reality. With my sword, I thrust it forward towards the knight who brought up his shield in defence but suddenly found himself dropping to one knee out of the blue.

Said move I had used on him? It was a little something from The Mightiest Disciple. I couldn't particularly remember the name or the move but the intent was the same, bring attention to one attack whilst the real attack came from below the belt.

In my case, kicking at the side of his knee with enough force to drop the knight onto one knee. I was about to go and carry on with my assault and finish him off before something struck me from behind and the world rang and spun before I found myself on my back. Axel stood atop me, a foot planted on my chest and the training sword placed on my neck.

The Duke of Oldstones was probably smirking behind that helmet of his. "Yield?"

"I yield." Axel made a sound of victory as he held out a hand to help me out. A hand that I took and was pulled to my feet. "I completely forgot about you."

"Again." Ser Garrett said as he walked towards us, having removed his helmet to show the world his very plain features that added to his stoicness. "Your grace, you have a bad habit of forgetting your surroundings when it seems victory is upon you."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing that we have such able knights as you to protect him in such moments then." Zhoe made her way towards us, the servants rushing forward to give us water and towels to wipe away the sweat that clung onto ours. "Nonetheless, nicely done your grace. Despite the calibre of opponents standing before you, you more than held yourself well."

"I hope better than well," I moved into plant a kiss on my wife but she shied away, her nose scrunching a little and a look of green coming across her face. I blinked. "What?"

Joanna, the goodsister that was probably from one of the hells or all of them shied away with a laugh much like Zhoe had done so. "By the gods, I think you men need a good bath."

I shared a look with the other men that I had been fighting against and gave myself a good sniff. There certainly was a certain odour to me that could possibly be considered quite bad.

Alfie ran towards us, enveloped me in a hug, scrunched his nose and pulled back to his mother's side. "You stink papa." He said as Septa Marcella hanged around near enough to the boy. "And so does Uncle Axel and Ser Garry."

"Sparring has a habit of doing that, my prince." The knight replied easily enough at the prince having spent enough time with the young princeling to be quite personal from my understanding. "You'll learn of that soon enough."

The septa sighed from where she stood. "Please don't remind me good ser. It's bad enough trying to get the young prince to take a bath as he is now."

Septa Marcella might be my son's governess for the past couple years but that did not at all make me trust her one bit. I knew, everybody knew that she was basically there to try and guide the young prince and any children of mine on the proper path.

I was a bit worried of the influence that the septa had on my heir but it was stymied by the fact that she wasn't the only governess in town. A worry that was seemed to be shared by Zhoe as she made sure to spend as much time as possible with her son to limit the influence of the governess.

Zhoe had not exactly been pleased with the appointing of the septa to the position but she somewhat understood that I had to throw a bone of some kind in the direction of the Faith. She just wasn't happy that the bone I had thrown was in the direction of the heir to the kingdom.

Man, I just realised that apart from the followers of the old gods, my more atheist lords really did not care for the Faith at all.

"I suppose that explains why he always smells..." Ciri teased playfully as she poked her younger brother much to his contestation. She turned her attention towards us after having her little fun with him. "That was amazing though father, uncle, ser. You all fought oh so bravely and valiantly."

"Fighting two-on-one isn't exactly what I would call brave or valiant." Joanna said, eyeing the three of us as squires helped us remove our armour. "Something that can be thought of as cowardly."

"Perhaps," I said as Willem helped me out of one of my vambraces. "but let's be honest here. The ser and my brother recognised me for the threat I am and figured it would just simply be easier to face me two-on-one." I grinned as I patted both of them on the shoulders. "Nice to see that they recognise me for the master swordsman that I am."

Axel removed the offending arm from his persons and with his helmet removed, showing me that he was spotting quite a few cuts and bruises on that pretty, pug-nosed face of his. "Strange, from my understanding, you asked us to face you two-on-one. The ser can attest to that as well."

Said ser nodded his head, a water skin drifting some little ways off his mouth. "Something like that comes to mind if I think about it." Like I said, he was a more talkative Ser Ethan.

"Your memories must be wrong then." I teased playfully. The bad BO hit me once more and I decided that it was about time something was done about it. "Well, if you will excuse me my ladies, I think it's about time that I saw to my personal hygiene."

My ever-diligent squire who was now my goodbrother because Alys was married to Axel spoke up then. "Servants are already drawing up the hot water, your grace. It should be ready for you in your apartments as soon as you walk in."

I gave him a smile and nod of gratitude. "Thanks, much appreciated."

I could already feel the bruises that were going to be plaguing me until they inevitably heal and then I'm back at it again in the training yard. Despite my sheer dislike for the sparring part with weapons that had come to be my life, I was still of the mind that this was definitely a good thing.

Although I actually had no intention of ever riding off into the midst of battle, we are talking about me. I once had thought of just doing nothing but letting Harren pass me by with little trouble on my end but that sort of went pear-shaped.

I didn't trust myself to not involve myself in something that could very well possibly result in me being the thick of it.

All the kingdoms of Westeros had distinct cultures that was unique to them but what they all shared was quite possibly the strangest veneration for a person's martial abilities. They put a lot of weight in the capabilities of the lords and the person leading them.

Apart from Dorne, this was pretty much why female rulers were not a thing. Probably the main reason as to why the Blackfyres happened. Because of one of the few constants of Westerosi culture deemed it pretty important that the people who were in charge were first and foremost, excellent head-bashers.

If I was to be credible to a lot of people, I had to be an excellent head-basher.

And also, because I did not want to be an excellent head-basher in a situation that called for me being an excellent head-basher. I think I was making good progress on that front.

Me and Axel sat in the cabinet meeting room. The cabinet meeting room being what was essentially my version of a small council room. It was here where all my advisors tasked with running certain parts of my kingdom met on a fortnightly basis to give me updates on their end of kingdom running.

It wasn't just every fortnight, but every time something big was happening and I needed to hear the advice of the people entrusted in helping me come to a reasonable conclusion to whatever emergency that is happening.

At some point, I realised, was that we were going to need a longer room to fit a longer table for all the other departments I had yet to introduce into the running of government. I did not want to make the mistake of putting the running of the government into too small group of people like the small council of canon but at the same time, I didn't want to create a massive bureaucracy of pointless departments.

Pointless departments brought even more pointless paperwork and that was my Orwellian nightmare. That might work for the Imperium but most certainly not for me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked my little brother, making small talk.

The Duke rolled out one of his shoulders as he replied, sitting comfortably in a leather back chair around the table that sat in the middle of the room. "Whatever that tackle you did on me was something else. I've never seen anyone do that before. Where did you think of that?"

"It was a spare of the moment thing. I'll teach it to you if you want."

"You can if you want, though I doubt it would be all that useful in an actual battle."

"On that, I think I agree on you with that sort of sentiment. It's a good thing we weren't on a battlefield then." I paused for a moment and thought of my fears on being a battlefield. Once was one too many times for my liking. "Hopefully, never-." I stopped as I realised I was about to jinx myself and that Westeros was Murphy's playing ground and he didn't have a teacher to supervise him.

Axel looked at me, curious as to why I had suddenly stopped talking out of the blue. "What? Something on the mind?"

"Something like that," I deflected badly as I moved onto somewhat happier topics. "How come Alys isn't here with you? Does she still not like me?"

I could feel the urge for Axel to roll his eyes at my deflection but he answered my questions nonetheless. "She's still seeing to the restorations of the castle and making good accounts of our new lands and bannermen. She thinks herself better saved doing that than gossiping with all the other hens at court."

"That doesn't exactly answer my question about not liking me. Why doesn't she like me?"

Axel raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think she does not like you?"

I gave him a look of incredulity. "She always seems testy with me. Haven't you noticed?"

He shrugged at my question in an unknowing manner. "Not really. She has always observed her courtesies whenever she was with me or talking to the other guests during her time here. Maybe you are just being paranoid?"

"Please little brother, it's not paranoia if it's true." I shook my head in amusement. "I mean, I made her a Duchess and even held a grand tourney in honour of her giving birth to my little nephew and yet, still no love."

"Speaking of which," the young Tully scion glanced in my direction with a look of annoyance. "what in the name of the gods old and new is a Duke and Duchess? You say they are titles but I have never heard of them. Either here in Westeros or Essos and don't say some convoluted First Men crap. We actually have records of First Men titles and those titles are not recorded anywhere."

I chuckled at his words, shaking my head before sighing in a coquettish manner. "Have you thought I simply made them up to elevate you above the rest of the lords to show your family's importance to mine?"

"The thought did cross my mind... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised then."

I leaned into the back of my seat, feeling rather proud of myself. "Nope, you most certainly should not be."

We chatted amongst ourselves for a little bit more before the cabinet soon announced themselves as they started entering the meeting room. Jaime was the first to arrive with something of a skip to his step. He seemed rather happy about something and I was really curious as to what.

I hadn't seen much of the maester since the alchemists had arrived and were setting up shop here in Riverrun. Maybe it had something to do with that? He did really want to disapprove the magics of the alchemists with something of a feverish delight despite the fact that he acknowledged magic was a recognised force in this world.

Maybe it was scientific rivalry or something... that was a thing, right?

He was followed by two of the oldest members in the cabinet in the form of Lord Mooton and Buckwell, both in pleasant talk amongst themselves. Not really surprising since their particular departments had some overlap and co-operation between the two was expected and somewhat encouraged. The former being the finance minister and the other, commercial.

Lyam walked in, always with a friendly smile on his face. I nearly waved at him when his smile widened some when he noticed me and Axel and made his way to take a seat close to us. It was nice seeing him this refreshed due to the fact that he had spent most of his time travelling in the east and had only returned to Riverrun just recently.

The next person to walk in had caused something of a scandal not because of who they were but because... well, actually, it was because of who they were. It was Lady Anya Bracken, mother to a certain lord that I refuse to say their first name due to how inane it is. In fact, the position had been offered to said lord first but he didn't want it and had suggested his mother enough for the role.

Apparently, she was one of the few highborn in the realm to have actually bothered to read the law codex, so I figured, why not?

She seemed to be able to handle the duties required of her well enough and I figured that she quite enjoyed screwing around with the more misogynistic elements of the court at her position in the King's Cabinet.

Of course, having thrown a bone in the direction of the Brackens, to balance out any thoughts of favouritism, I also threw a bone in the direction of the Blackwoods. Thankfully, it wasn't Lord Blackwood himself who had come to take the seat that had been offered him but instead his far more agreeable and charismatic son, Brandon.

Said lordling was in the midst of chatter with Ser Franklin Frey who had also earned a seat into this esteemed group of people who shall be advising me. Once again, his particular appointment had caused a minor scandal due to the fact of which house he belonged to. Though this scandal wasn't as big as the one that had been brought by Lady Anya's appointment.

Ser Patrek marched in last, holding himself in a straight and dignified manner in certain blue, red and grey colours that some would mistake as Tully colours but instead were in truth, colours of the army and future navy that would come to protect our beloved kingdom and homeland.

Watching them all take the seats, I greeted them with a warm smile and a nod of the head. "My lords, lady, thank you all for coming to this meeting. Let's begin shall we?" I finished as I looked at one of the scribes that was going to be sitting in on this particular meeting and take records of what had been talked about and suggested for future review.

The benefits of bureaucracy.

I decided to quickly get to one of the main points that was going to dominate this particular meeting before moving to the other main point that had been dominating court for months on end now. "Lyam," I began, looking at my cousin. "How did it go across the narrow sea?"

"Quite well I would say." My cousin replied with a pleased smile as he looked around the table. "The Braavosi and Pentoshi are quite open to trade with us. Even more so by the notions of a canal that would cut down travel times to the other side of Westeros. Their only worry would be whether the tolls and duties placed upon passing ships would be fair."

Lord Matthis Butterwell shook his head. "The canal is still years from being built and something I say your grace, is a waste of good coin that could be used for something else."

"I wouldn't call it a waste, my lord." Ser Franklin interjected on behalf of the long-term project that already had people looking into it on my behest for when the time came to build it. "I'd wager that this canal would be a boost for the kingdom. With the flow of coin and trade, I'd wager we would be as rich as the Lannisters or even richer."

"On that, I'm of the same mind ser, but I fear that it would be a waste in more ways than one. Dorne might very well feel threatened by the building of this canal as it would affect the amount of trade that would pass through Dorne."

"I doubt the Dornish would care much, my lord. They are on the other side of the world." The Blackwood heir said as he sipped from a goblet of apple cider. "Good stuff."

Lyam frowned at his words. "It might matter if we intend to befriend them as the king has planned to. They might not like the knowledge that we might soon be stealing some of the coin that passes through their lands."

"You forget that the canal is still years away from being built." Axel said, speaking up for the first time. "For all they know, we might eventually decide against building it for other reasons."

"And why should the opinions of the Dornish matter anyway? It's not as if our opinions on the happenings of their own princedom would matter to us." Ser Franklin said.

I like to think that it mattered because I planned on befriending the Dornish so that in the completely out of the way scenario that a war happened between us against either the Reach or Stormlands, the Dornish would be able to strike at their rear. On the other hand, considering Dornish history, I don't think they would need any sort of encouragement on my part to just fuck with either the Reach or the Stormlands.

Having a friend might make their fucking about easier though.

"We are moving away from the subject that we might be able to make us some friends across the narrow sea, my lords." Lady Anya said, bringing the conversation back to what it had originally about. "The canals can wait for another time, perhaps when it is actually being built."

Lyam smiled gratefully at the older lady. "The lady is right. The subject has veered off course rather quickly."

Lord Matthis waved his concern away with a brusque motion of the hand. "Not much can be said about the cheesemongers, my lord. As your words tell us all, they are willingly to be friends to us if it only benefits them. Next thing you'll say is that Pentos would be rather happy if we involved ourselves in their war against Volantis." He stopped and noticed Lyam looking a little sheepish. "Wait, they actually asked that?"

"They not so much as asked but more along the lines of insinuated that our help would be much appreciated."

I have always wondered exactly how Pentos was able to convince Argillac to jump on board their team against Volantis' dream of empire. Then again, everything I heard about Argillac made it sound as if the guy would have jumped into that particular clusterfuck for either a good fight or just because.

He seemed to be that sort of guy.

"Preposterous!" Lord Matthis near yelled, shaking his head. "We are in no state to help or have any need to. Essosi matters are Essosi matters and not the cause of concern for any good Westerosi."

"I'm of the same mind though they tried to bring up the Andals that remain in the east and something about the hills spoken off in the Seven-pointed Star."

Brandon Blackwood look quite amused by my cousin's words. "I see they tried to appeal to your sense of kin with the Andal ancestral homeland. Did it work?"

Lyam could only smile and shake his head. A firm no.

"Whatever Andals that remain in Andalos are nothing more than mutts anyway. Their ploy would have probably worked a little more with someone of the Faith rather than people from our kingdom." The lordling continued to say.

The various highborn in the room chuckled in agreement with the Blackwood heir before we moved onto the next subject. It was quite easy to gauge the room and see that nobody was interested in sending armies across the narrow sea to fight some distant war for some slaving fucks against other slaving fucks.

And anyway, if it got bad enough, I'm sure that Braavos would sent some Faceless Man or another to take care of the tigers currently running things in Volantis. That should probably give the elephants the momentum they need to take control... or do the opposite and gauge Volantis to go for Braavos with a fervent belief in making them pay for the assassination of their leaders.

And once again, my armchair general was coming out in force, but I was sure that Volantis was overstretched. Pentos wasn't the only Free City that they had in their sights. Qohor and Norvos were still standing and fighting.

"Both branches of the Brunes and the Boggs have been brought to heel and we control all their castles and holdfasts!" Ser Patrek told the cabinet to the sounds of cheers.

"What great news! A spectacular victory for the King and the Trident!" Lord Matthis cooed uncharacteristically. It would have made more sense to praise the soldiers actually doing the fighting since I was most definitely not doing the fighting but instead, just sitting around. Lady Anya clapped her hands lightly. "Nicely done. How shall we honour these brave men then?" Ser Franklin gave a good nod of the head. "It seems this standing force of men is proving itself well worth the coin paid for it."

Lord Mooton looked around the room. "Now comes the question of what do with the lands and castles our kingdom has won."

And we finally get to the crux of the matter. On what to do with the lands of the Brunes and Boggs. I had a feeling that everybody was feeling particularly imperious at this very moment in time.

"Would you happen to be suggesting that we absorb these lands Lord Mooton?" Lady Anya asked all so innocently. "A suitable course of action to be true though I wonder if your suggestion of action could at all be influenced by the history of claims of House Mooton to Crackclaw Point."

I tried not to sit up to straight at that sudden bombshell. House Mooton had claims to the Point? Why was I learning of this now?

I mean, that sort of set my paranoia off.

What if this entire thing was nothing more than a false-flag operation to get me to send in the troops? Did I just get played? Oh by the gods, old and new, Westeros was going to making me a paranoid wreck.

"House Mooton has made claims on the point, my lady. That is something that I will not lie about, but those claims were made centuries ago. Millennia even. We are now content with the lands that we have already."

The stallion lady just hummed in a non-committal manner at the statement as she went quiet.

"if we absorb the lands into our own, we risk war with the rest of the Crackclaw Point houses." Jaime said, speaking up for the first time, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Many kings and kingdoms have tried to stamp their authority on that part of the world and many have failed. When it seems their way of life is in danger, the lords of that particular part of Westeros are quite capable of coming together and fighting underneath one banner for their homes."

Lord Matthis blinked. "But they started it! We were in our rights to defend ourselves!"

"That we have." Brandon Blackwood said, nodding his head. "The Brunes and Boggs have been sufficiently punished and their wrongs have been righted. On one hand, if we absorb their lands, we seem like conquerors and invaders but on the other hand as the lord succinctly pointed out, they started it then they lost and by the laws of the land recognised from the wall all the way to Dorne, their land is now ours to do as we see fit."

The other lords nodded their heads in ascent with the reasoning of the young lordling.

Might did make right in this part of the world so I could definitely see his reasoning. This was still in a period of time where this sort of reasonings could fly when it came to international law and relations.

I closed my eyes and thought about it for a moment.

What did I know about Crackclaw Point? Something about it being dragon country but this was before dragon country therefore that line of argument of not fucking with that particular part of the world could be considered mute and void... but really, did I want to risk it? For all I know, that part of the world could already have relations with the Targaryens and they might answer a call for help.

… Unless I made quite the statement and case that I wasn't aiming for the whole peninsula but just the houses that had thought it cute to raid my lands and kill my people? That could probably work.

To be honest, I did need a frontier in that direction that was not heavily populated like the last one that I had. Absorbing the adjacent lands of the Brunes and Boggs would definitely create a frontier that could put a buffer between me and the rest of the petty kingdoms of the Point.

From everything that I could recall, the lords of that land were basically upgraded versions of either the wildlings or the mountain tribes of the Mountains of the Moon.

Eventually, I opened my eyes after thinking things a little. "Lyam, I know that you've just returned but I want you to head for Dragonstone as soon as possible."

My cousin wasn't the only surprised by my words all of a sudden as everyone looked about each other in confusion. Lyam though, shook it off and sat straight in his seat. "What about?"

"Same reason as Pentos and Braavos." I smiled at my cousin. "You are going to be finding our kingdom some new friends."

Last edited: Sep 21, 2018