Title Quote:
"There is entirely too much tut-tutting in this realm, if you ask me. All these kings would do a deal better if they put down their swords and listened to their mothers."
Olenna Tyrell, A Storm of Swords
The queen entered the room in a backless dress without collar, sleeves or a long hem. Rickard could not have imagined the extent of the abuse Queen Rhaella suffered even as he heard the horrible sounds in that corridor. There were bite marks, red and raw, marring the queen's shoulders.
Animal!
Rickard had only seen camp followers carry such wounds, and only those that were riddled with disease or craving the shade or the poppy. The queen was neither suffering from the poxes common to those whores nor from the symptoms of substance abuse prevalent to addicts. Her noble visage and excellent features were not hidden by her disfigurement, only temporarily tainted. This was not a woman to be diminished.
Rhaella Targaryen commanded the room the moment she entered it. Rickard rose to his feet by reflex.
Ser Jaime went to gather a chair unbidden as the queen started talking.
"Lord Stark, you need not stand up for me. Please, let me seat myself, we have important matters to discuss."
"My queen, I must", Rickard said in answer, "I stand in awe of your dignity."
Rickard inclined his head and waited for the young Kingsguard to bring the queen's chair, then he seated himself a second after the queen as she spoke.
"My lord, first let me apologize for the atrocities my family has committed towards yours these last days. Such actions are unbecoming of a liege toward their loyal and leal subjects and the spectacle today was unworthy of people of any station.
"Do tell me though, Lord Stark, you were ready to fight in a Trial by Combat for your son without knowing the opponent. Are you that confident in your skill at arms, to believe you could beat any Kingsguard in attendance today? Their personal failures aside, their skill with their swords is without repute."
This was a true royal. What was it with the women of the Targaryens, that they overshadowed their men in all ways that mattered yet were bound by the limits of their sex when it came to grasp the power to rule? Cregan had the right of it, supporting Rhaenyra back then. Unlimited power and no proper tutelage made cruel men out of cruel boys, and all children were cruel. Both Aerys and Rhaegar should have been slapped more often when they were children.
In that they were like Brandon. It was a depressing thought. But not even her cunning flattery would help the queen, not with Rickard. Spoken as much to pacify him as to get him to boast and fall into overconfidence for the talks ahead. A weaker man would have been influenced by the attention and praise. By the queen's appearance. By the royal apology. Not Rickard.
Rickard contemplated overstating or understating his skills as to keep the real knowledge of his skill a secret, both options had their own advantages. All warfare is based on deception. But in the end, Rickard simply went with the truth. The skill of a single man would not make a difference when the war broke loose.
"My queen, I do not know if I would have won. I know I would have lost, were the Sword of the Morning in attendance. I probably could have won against Ser Whent, I do not know. Ser Hightower is still impaired from his injury inflicted by the Kingswood Brotherhood. My fighting style is made to prey on weaknesses such as those. I am sure Ser Jaime noticed my stalking gait with the pyromancers. I believe Ser Lewyn would lose voluntarily as he would have brought Dorne into conflict with the North otherwise. This suspicion has been confirmed now, thanks to the princess."
Rickard made a vague nod of thanks in the direction of the princess who responded with a non-committing half-wave of her hand. Rickard's neck swiveled around so his face was towards Jaime at the door before he continued speaking.
"Ser Jaime is too young. No offence, lad. Ser Darry too old. Both of them I would beat. Ser Barristan would have been the biggest challenge, I reckon.
"He is, however, by all accounts the most honorable man serving as a Kingsguard since Duncan the Tall. So, I would not have fought fair. I would have broken his concentration. Maybe, if he was furious or maudlin enough, he would make mistakes that I could exploit. Every moment of our fight I would have told him how, right then, the squire he trained, his prince, was raping my kidnapped daughter in some god forsaken place that he hid her in."
Rickard did not want it to happen, but his voice broke at the end. There was open sympathy on the faces of the queen and princess and Ser Jaime seemed to be doing an uncomfortable shuffle next to the door. Queen Rhaella was wringing her hands in her lap, obviously uncomfortable that they had arrived at this topic so quickly.
Rickard knew the talk would reach this point. He would not postpone the difficult subject for the queen's comfort, not when she used her torment to try and soften Rickard towards her. Even if she succeeded at that, just a little. For a man must not follow his instincts to the end, even if he leans into his emotions. A quality the prince did obviously not possess.
The queen saught out his eyes as she spoke again.
"Your love for your children is admirable, my lord. You said you stood in awe of my dignity. I am in awe of you. That you would willingly discard the mask of dignity, your own and that of your house, to save your son's life is a testament to your character. Not many a lord would. I hope your eldest knows the worth of your sacrifice.
"As to your daughter. If my son truly kidnapped her, I will support you should you seek to have him send to the Wall. If he truly hurt her, I will support you should you seek to have him whipped or beaten. If he truly raped her, I will support you should you seek to have him gelded. I believe my husband would happily comply.
"However, I also love my son and do not believe him to be capable of such vile acts. I might just be a foolish parent, as all loving parents are until confronted with evidence, but I hope that my son just committed a mistake out of misplaced feelings. We all know what happened at that infernal tournament last year, and the disdain of your daughter towards her betrothed is not a secret. I hope they just. Ran away together. As horrible as that sounds."
Rickard could understand the woman. Truly, he could. For a second, he thought of Lord Ryswell, how he must have had some of those feelings all the same, below his ambitions. There was a black shame to that line of thinking. Amends would have to be made on that front; Rickard decided. Along with punishment, of course, yet amends all the same. Rickard would not wallow in hypocrisy. Still the queen's speech demanded an answer, so an answer Rickard gave, his voice as iron.
"I hope so as well, my queen. But make no mistake, I'd still be furious. With my daughter as well, but more with your son. She's 15. He's 23. The last time a Targaryen prince broke the betrothal to a Stormlord's daughter it started a rebellion that only ended when Lyonel Baratheon was beaten on the battlefield and Aegon the Unlikely offered the prince's sister's betrothal as replacement for Prince Duncan's hand.
"Your son, however, managed to offend not just the Stormlands through the broken betrothal of a daughter this time, no, he escaped with the Stormlord's betrothed herself and risked angering the kingdom of the girl's father as well as possibly the house of her brother's bride-to-be of a few days, another lord paramount. The prince this time does not even have a sister he can offer in recompense. Such an action, regardless of intent, asks for consequences."
By the end, Rickard was almost seething. Almost. It would not do to display anger, not among competent players. It showed lack of control, an embarrassing weakness. The queen remained utterly poised as she answered.
"What, pray tell, Lord Rickard, would be adequate compensation in your opinion for my son's transgression?"
It would not do to inflate his demands here, Rickard knew. They were not fish wives, haggling for the price of a silver trout. No, his designs needed to prove adequate, as it was nicely put. Not too much, not too little. Luckily, Rickard already knew what he wanted.
"I lost my heir today. I want for him to establish a cadet branch, now that other venues are closed to him. He will be in need of a proper keep; the North lacks an empty castle that he can move into. At the moment. Moat Cailin stands a ruin, waiting to be rebuild. It would serve nicely for my Brandon; do you not agree? I hear Lord Tywin's tenure as hand was very auspicious and the treasury is bursting. Do you think the royal family would be willing to help?"
The Moat had become more important than a return of the New Gift with the events of today. Rickard proved right in his gauging of the queen, after short contemplation she agreed with his peace settlement. The talks turned to the future and the looming succession crisis. Rarely they would be able to speak so candidly again, Ser Jaime and the princess' handmaiden having properly secured the perimeter.
"I am thankful to Lord Stark for fostering my daughter in Winterfell soon. As you know, mother-in-law, king Aerys is afraid of little Rhaenys being corrupted by the Dornish at court and I am fear what the turn of the year will bring. Do you think war is inevitable, Lord Stark?"
Elia opened the discussion, pulling the queen into her confidence regarding the matter of Princess Rhaenys.
"Yes, my princess. I believe it is inevitable. Fear not, your daughter will be safe in Winterfell. As winter returned, we Northerners will probably not be able to join either side in time to be relevant for the coming war. Rallying the troops in the cold season would prove too difficult."
Rickard laid out an intension to stay out of the succession crisis all together, even spiced up with a little plausible detail.
"I am glad my granddaughter's safety is seen to. What is your view on the other kingdoms, Lord Stark? Your insight on matters of war is something we sorely lack."
The queen gestured a silent thank you along with her words.
"The Vale will stay out of the fighting as well, with Lord Elbert having suffered from this whole fiasco these days. If Lord Baratheon proves smart, he will stay out as well and use the chance to suppress House Connington and their lord. Regardless who wins, the king or the prince, Robert Baratheon is in his rights in keeping his subject from pulling the rest of the Stormlands into the civil war. It will also allow him to present himself as a smart and martial ruler, a necessity in ruling the lords in his kingdom.
"If Lord Baratheon proves himself am idiot instead, he will join Aerys' side as retribution against Rhaegar's slight towards his honor when the prince kidnapped Lyanna. Dorne will support the king as long as Princess Elia remains in Aerys' hands. The king is well aware of this, the princess is aware of this, I believe even Lord Merryweather is aware of this.
"The Crownlands will hold to the king. After the Defiance at Duskendale the pressure on them has increased. The Iron Islands will wait until a winner becomes apparent and start raiding the losing side for the last weeks of the war. The places that will experience the greatest turmoil are the Riverlands due to split loyalties within and the Reach due to internal rivalry in the kingdom.
"The Westerlands will support both sides with coin, I believe, to even out the scales of the war. The Great Lion has been nursing his grudge for some time, he will try to diminish the power of House Targaryen overall. When the parties have exhausted themselves, Tywin Lannister will sweep in and squeeze the side he chooses dry for concessions. If the Reach does not resolve its inner problems swiftly enough, Tywin Lannister will emerge the deciding factor in this war."
Rickard gave a largely accurate portrait of a possible progression of the war. Not that it would come to this scenario. Sure, many of the players would act like this and the majority of the kingdoms would follow the laid-out course. But Rickard had interests he would see to, as this war would see to the North's and its allies' gain.
"Fascinating. I agree that my brothers will keep faith with whoever holds me. The situation in the Reach sounds like the breaking point of this whole war. Could you please elaborate on the matter? Why does victory in the Riverlands not impact the war as much? It is much closer to the capital."
The princess pried for more information as she and the queen listened intently. As women they were rarely taken seriously when it came to matters of strategic and tactical warfare, but they were both in the possession of quick minds and grasped many points without the need of an explanation.
"The Riverlands' forces are too divided between houses in direct proximity that will choose different factions, thus fighting each other. The houses with a significant number of troops or influence can be reduced to seven. The ones that matter are House Tully, Blackwood, Bracken, Darry, Frey, Mallister and Whent. House Tully stands to lose the most, they have the fewest troops of these seven houses and are the lords paramount of the region only due to the grace of House Targaryen.
"They will need to pick the winning side early, otherwise one of the other houses will be rewarded paramountship of the region by the winning royal at the end. Bracken and Blackwood won't actually choose sides, they will just restart their age-old feud and the other houses around them will steer clear. A senseless war surrounded by a senseless war. Mallister will stay out of the war due to Jeffory Mallister's involvement in Brandon's stupidity and the threat to his life by your house.
"House Frey will behave like the Ironborn in that they'll wait out the initial stages of the war and attack the losing side at the end. House Darry will support the king because of Ser Jonothor. I also believe they will try to make a play for the seat of lord paramount of the Riverlands. House Whent is in a similar position, just with Prince Rhaegar. It seems Ser Oswell is firmly in the prince's camp so his house will follow suit."
Ser Jaime stiffened at the mention of his absent brother-in-arms. Rickard was able not to show any surprise on his face. What was the young lion aware of? Was his information regarding Oswell Whent wrong? But that did not make any sense, the knight was seen with Prince Rhaegar the night they took his Lyanna.
The queen seemed to notice Rickard's silence and followed his look to the Kingsguard who seemed rather uncomfortable under Rickard's scrutiny. Rhaella Targaryen turned to him again and made to speak. So, the queen knew that Jaime Lannister knew something. She knew that Rickard had become aware that there was information he was not privy to. Interesting. This called for some further investigation.
"Lord Stark, you mentioned the Tullys. Whatever will become of the betrothal of your Brandon and Lady Catelyn?"
Rickard had to smother a grin at the queen's attempt to change the subject of his attention. He had been wanting to bring them up in the conversation and start the groundwork of Hoster Tully's downfall. Oh, if the greedy cunt only knew his demise started with words to a woman, he would seethe. Rarely had Rickard seen a man more dismissive towards a player of the game because of her sex. Only Lord Frey came to mind besides.
"I am glad you asked, my queen. I have actually been rather cross with Lord Tully since I parted ways with him to come here from Riverrun where I helped prepare the wedding. He was convinced I could not save my son and was only riding to pick up his bones. He even denied me an escort."
That was a largely toned-down version of the break between Hoster and him, but the princess and queen did not need to know the sordid details. How, before Brandon had even reached the capital, the fucking fish had decried his intended son-in-law for his stupidity and brazenly demanded Rickard marry his second son Eddard to Hoster's daughter Catelyn and make Ned the heir to Winterfell instead.
Rickard's son Brandon might have proved himself an idiot but Hoster Tully was not the person that Rickard would allow the liberties he had taken and the insults he had given to Rickard himself, his son, his house and his late wife. All while the trout treated his own family more like chess pieces than Rickard ever had with his.
A fact Rickard only found out when he set his men out to dally with some of Riverrun's servants to gather information, gold dragons in their pockets to set tongues loose, ale flowing and beds rocking. A forced abortion and a low-rank ward dispelled from the Tully household. Coin well spent.
Rickard did not have to fake the hint of anger he let seep into his words as he spoke on.
"The man should be spited. Hoster Tully insulted my house, and now he deserves to be taught a lesson in propriety. I ask you, my queen, please arrange for the funds for Moat Cailin to be shipped north unannounced and do not publicize the creation of Brandon's cadet branch. I want Hoster Tully to squirm like the fish he is until I deign to tell him personally that his daughter will be the lady of a great castle still.
I believe we can help each other this way, my queen, as I am sure you would welcome the chance of not having to tell the realm that you are funding the rebuilding of the Moat to compensate for that highly irregular trial today."
The queen agreed, it seemed a proper response to the insult given by House Tully and held its benefits for both the Targaryens and the Starks. How little she would expect Hoster's reaction. But Rickard knew the greedy cunt that was Hoster Tully.
First, the man would again try to bind his daughter to Rickard's younger son. As if Rickard would allow a spawn of that fish to rule the greatest castle in the North. Then Hoster would try to pressure Rickard into resolving the marriage contract. But Rickard knew the wording. For the firstborn daughter of the fish to marry the firstborn son of the wolf. For Catelyn Tully to marry Brandon Stark.
Why would anyone write matters of inheritance of the betrothed pair into the marriage contract? They were the starting points of the discussion, not the principal matter at hand. At the end Hoster would marry his daughter to Rickard's son if he was smart. But no, Hoster would be greedy. He would break the betrothal and suffer the price of breaking their contract in order to secure Catelyn a better marriage than a disinherited son.
With a broken betrothal to House Stark to her name, Catelyn Tully would never be able to marry the heir to a lord paramount. Rickard would see to that. Nor as well would she wed the heir to a great castle, just like Moat Cailin. Rickard could see it already, the way that fucking fish would rage in his river after Rickard was through with him. He would not even have to bend the truth. It was, after all, a most powerful weapon.
Rickard turned to Jaime Lannister at the door for a second to address him.
"Boy, you know what probably the only good thing is that came from you joining the Kingsguard? You are spared from marrying the second Tully girl. Never have I seen a more vapid twat than Lysa Tully, let me tell you."
He shared a carefully controlled conspiratory chuckle with the young knight before adopting a slightly solemn expression and addressing Princess Elia. A little misogynistic mummery often helped cloud a smart woman's eyes.
"Actually, my princess, I fear I might be judging the girl wrong. True, she seemed almost catatonic in Riverrun, but the talk of the servants was atrocious and rumors in the Riverlands abound. Apparently, Lady Lysa was in love with a young lordling and found herself pregnant. Her father forced moon tea on her and send the boy, his own ward, away. I wish Lysa Tully the best, and some liberty from her father.
"Gods know, at the end Hoster will end up making Lysa Tully the next Lady Frey. That man was not born to be father. Princess, seeing as she will soon be family to me and I will take care of your daughter soon, can you help me care for the sister of my future daughter-in-law? I would be thankful if you could take her on as a lady-in-waiting."
Princess Elia seemed unsure for a second, not entirely convinced by his intentions. She was not wrong in that. There also were no rumors about Lysa Tully's abortion in the Riverlands, at least not yet. There soon would be aplenty, as Rickard would pass through to attend a wedding that would come not be.
Still the princess had no reason to refuse, it was a harmless request. By the end of the week Rickard would have taken care of the fact that Lysa Tully would be all but unmarriageable to important heirs in all of the Seven Kingdoms. But the ladies in discussion with him right now did not need to know that either.
Rickard grew a little concerned, however, as the face of the Dornish princess turned from inquisitive to pondering to slightly malignant before finishing in a grin seeped with schadenfreude.
"Of course, Lord Stark. For the help you are providing me with my daughter, I would do anything in my power for you. Lucky for you my principle handmaiden has recently left for Gulltown on private business and I hope to need a replacement for her soon. You might have heard of her, of Lady Ashara Dayne."
The grin across the princess face was now definitely back in the realm of the malignant. Rickard was only confused. Yes, he heard rumors of Lady Dayne's beauty, but little else. Why would Princess Elia display indignation on her behalf, towards him? Elia Martell must have recognized his confusion, for the anger slipped from her face to be replaced only by hollow emptiness as she continued.
"You truly don't know, do you, Lord Stark? Lady Ashara is like a little sister to me. At the tourney of Harrenhal she fell in love with your second son, and he looked enamored with her as well. You know, she's a Stony Dornishwoman, hailing from the third most powerful house in Dorne. On the last day before the joust finished, however, she stumbled out of your eldest son's tent, reeking of wine and her clothes disheveled.
"Eddard Stark saw this and went inside, falling over his brother and punching him almost bloody all over his body. Brandon was screaming for the whole camp to hear how he fucked my darling Ashara, singing 'The Dornishman's Wife' in his drunken state. He dishonored her before the all the nobles in attendance. My Ashara was trembling in my arms, decrying Brandon Stark a liar, saying she escaped before they became intimate. But who would believe a Dornishwoman?"
The last were hissed with the poison of Dornish vipers dropping out of Elia's mouth.
Rickard sat still for a second, processing these news. His idiot son. The Stony Dornish were the only ones in the southernmost kingdom to care for matters of marital purity. The rest of Dorne respected and loved them still and they were amongst the fiercest of the Dornish Spears. All these revelations of his former heir's inadequacy were too much for Rickard. He dropped his head into his hands and let a low groan escape before sitting straight again and fixing his posture before addressing the princess.
"My princess, be assured I knew nothing of what had transpired. All the news that raged in the North were of the crowning of my daughter. I will get my son to tell me everything, and when he has, I will make him scream and shout the truth out to the world and every keep we pass. I would like to offer my condolences to Lady Ashara in person, please write to her that I would be happy to meet her at the Crossroads Inn and I'll be happy to let her have her revenge on Brandon in a way that she deems fitting."
Princess Elia was gifting him a beaming smile, even Queen Rhaella was looking on kindly. Lady Ashara must have made many a friend at court. The princess voice was sugary sweet as she answered, her answer saccharine enough to make a stout Northman think he drowned in honey.
"Why, I believe you already shall, Lord Rickard. You see, Lord Eddard and Lady Ashara did not have a chance to speak before the last joust, and well, that's where the crowning happened. Before he left, your second son gave a letter to a runner in my employ to pass on to Lady Ashara. It was the sweetest thing, truly.
"Eddard wrote how he did not believe his brother and that he did not care even if he told the truth. It was a love letter, a penned confession. Beautiful words, and such passion. Ashara cried again reading the letter, tears of happiness this time. Who would ever believe the Quiet Wolf to hide such flowery language?
"Your son invited Ashara to join him at the Eyrie and be his companion for the wedding of his brother, and to ask you for permission to wed her. I've never seen her happier than the day I saw her off on the pier, sailing to meet the man she loves and to spite the man that taunted her together with her beloved."
The princess, and even the queen, had a dreamy look to them at that moment. What, by the gods, did Ned write in those damn letters? These were veteran players and his son had turned them into simpering fools from the memory of a letter!
Rickard vaguely recalled that they had planned to speak more on the happenings in the Reach at the advent of war, but Rickard could not muster up an ounce of care. He only felt the urgent desire to go and educate his eldest son. Rickard cleared his throat and as the two ladies regained their wits he rose and started speaking
"My princess, my queen, I feel the need for a long conversation between the back of my hand and my son's cheek. I ask that you please excuse me."
The queen offered him a smile and a nod while the princess had to suppress a giggle, an action Rickard did not expect from the regal person he had come to know these hours. Oddly enough, it fit her just as well without detracting from her imposing air. The bubbly sound stopped after a few seconds and all that remained was a smile of pearly white teeth. She bade him farewell with a Dornish kiss to the brow as he inclined his head to meet her.
"Rickard, as the last kind words between us before I hand Rhaenys over to you when you leave, know this: I am not just happy that Rhaenys is safe in the North, I am happy she is with you. I had my apprehensions from what I knew of Brandon, but it was balanced with my knowledge of Eddard. Meeting you now, my last fears were put to rest with the firm stance you've shown on your son's actions.
"Your care and love for your children, your political cunning and your skill at the game give me a peace of mind should it come to it that I cannot see my daughter grow up. Please teach her to be kind, to be free, and even to be able to defend herself should she wish it."
The princess and him had agreed to feign disdain for each other for the rest of their visit. It would convince Aerys to send Rhaenys with Rickard more easily. Jeffory Mallister and Elbert Arryn would join him at the banquet today now, instead of guarding Brandon. Two companions would suffice to meet propriety, and there was a game to be played at the feast. Rickard grasped the princess hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He left the royal wing and went to return to his chambers.
Brandon needed to be questioned. Rickard's son had behaved like a dog. Now he would be slapped like a bitch.