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Rhaella Targaryen III
Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Year 284 AC
Her granddaughter Rhaenys ran happily as two of her Dornish cousins, Arianne and Tyene pulled her a little bit above the ground as if she was a kite. Though the intent was nice and joyful, Rhaella was worried they would let her granddaughter fall and hurt herself.
"You could have told me that you brought your daughters and our niece before we saw how poor Lady Lollys ended full of ribbons with their mischievousness!" Rhaella heard Elia scold her brother, Prince Oberyn who had decided to pay them all a surprise by bringing three of his bastard daughters and his niece, the heiress of Dorne, in his party.
"A surprise is a surprise, my dear sister." The Dornish Prince replied with a smirk. "Although they might have exaggerated a bit...especially with that poor woman."
"They sure did!" Elia avowed. "And please tell Tyene and Arianne to watch their steps! I do not want any of the girls hurt because they fell to the floor!"
"Ok, ok. Let me see what I can do."
Besides the little children, Prince Oberyn's party included a few other Dornishmen but the one that Rhaella enjoyed seeing more was of course Emyly Yronwood who she missed dearly after she went to Dorne to, as they had expected, marry. Her husband was also present, Ser Ryon Allyrion...Rhaella heard rumors from her Dornish ladies that he had a bastard son and the child was in the party too, allowing her to take a glance at it, especially since he was often with the Martell girls. He was a young handsome boy with pretty sky blue eyes and sandy brown hair that resembled his father, a Sandy Dornishmen who Rhaella hoped would remain true to his wife. Emyly deserved as much. Any woman deserved that.
"This tourney will be big, will it not, Rhaella?" Licia questioned, while they walked to the Throne Room where Lord Tyrell would announce the Tourney's beginning. "I did not go to Harrenhal and they say it was the largest in history but by the looks of it, this one will be big too."
"Indeed but it seems we will have more children than expected." Rhaella said giggling as she saw the Dornish girls make sad faces upon being told to calm down by Prince Oberyn and Elia.
"True..." Her friend nodded with a shy smile. "I wish my kids were young still..." Licia sighed right after these words, her look distant. "Now that they are adults, they can do whatever they wish and that is the problem. They just fight between them and Francis, being an arse, just incites them further." Felicia's marriage was of course arranged but Rhaella knew she did not dislike it entirely at first. "During the bloody war, my middle son Lyn picked Lady Forlorn, House Corbray's Valyrian Steel sword, and used it to slain many, and as a reward for his feat, my husband gave the sword to him but Lyonel, my eldest, feels the sword should be his and Lucas, my youngest, is just angered at them both for whatever reason..." she sighed once more. "They used to tell me everything, now they only complain and try to force me to pick a side while giving me no information about whatever is happening. I hate it all!"
"Aerys and Rhaegar used to be like that too..." Rhaella recalled bitterly. "They were at each other's throats mostly because of Aerys' paranoia but my son kept everything to himself and generally told me nothing and that got him where he is now..." The thought of her dead son almost brought tears to her eyes but she could not cry anymore, she had to be strong for her remaining children and her grandchildren. "I wish he just confided with more people what was troubling him and heeded their advice when they gave it...things could have ended so much differently if he had done so. I still cannot believe he..."
"Ah! Let us forget these grim thoughts, Sweetooth, we cannot cry and ruin our makeup when we ought to appear before the most important people of the Realm. Especially you." Licia quickly said. "How is your daughter? I do not see her here and I have yet to see her today."
"Daenerys remains at Maegor's because she is too young to attend," Rhaella explained. "Lady Chelsted is with her. The poor girl is so shy and frightened...she told me that she preferred to not attend the party so I left her with my baby."
"I pity the girl...she fears these walls because she lost a father here," Licia said with a sad expression. "But you know what? I think she is quite like you when you were young!"
Rhaella did remember that she was very shy when young and everyone seemed to take advantage of her because of it but the years going by made her wiser and slightly more assertive and now that Aerys was gone, she had room to improve even further. Lady Elinor was quite the same, she was sure of it. She was glad they chose to make her a Lady-in-Waiting. "I do remember it..."
"It was me, Cass, Jo, and Dora who pushed you to do some maddening stuff," Licia said with a smirk. "Remember that time when Cass and I spooked Ser Gerold at Summerhall? Who would have known that a man of his size was afraid of grasshoppers?"
"Yes, I do recall it...Jo and I were not too happy with the grasshoppers either."
"Ah, good times!" Licia laughed loudly, disregarding the eyes set on her.
"Good times, indeed." Rhaella agreed.
Licia turned to her left side, likely understanding that her laugh had been a bit too loud, and noticed Lady Catelyn walking with the King in her hold. Little Aegon enjoyed Lady Catelyn a lot for some reason. "Is the King tired, Lady Catelyn?"
"Seems like so, My Lady." Lady Catelyn replied with a shy smile. "He is two of age. Kids like these get tired quickly do they not?"
"Yes, they do." Licia nodded. "But we cannot have His Grace take advantage of our goodwill."
"He will not." Rhaella avowed as they entered the Throne Room. "Though he might need to retire earlier." Then she looked ahead and called one of the ladies. "Jasline!"
Jasline reduced her pace to match Rhaella's. "My Queen?"
"Once you have time tell Elia that her son will likely need to retire earlier. He is already tired."
The Dornishwoman looked to the King in Lady Catelyn's hold and smile. "Will do." Then she walked in Elia's direction who was still trying to control the Dornish girls who by the looks seemed too wild for her daughter-in-law's taste. There were five of them, Arianne, Obara, Nymeria, Tyene, and Sarella, each wilder than the other.
"Thank you very much, darling." Rhaella said to her friend as she decided to take a good look at the Throne Room to see how much it had changed from earlier. The tables that were used for the Council Meeting were brought to the Great Hall and were joined by a dozen more to accommodate the many attendees. A hundred chairs or more seemed to be there which was what they could expect for a final number of highborn. The dragon skulls on the wall seemed to shine brighter than usual, likely because of the torches placed in their mouths. Numerous tapestries were hung on the ceilings but the one that Rhaella could see more than the three-headed dragon was the golden rose in the green field.
"It is a good thing that I like roses so much or I would be sick," Licia said in a whisper before she turned to one of the servants. "The Royal Family is here, please escort us to our seats."
And so they went, announced by the heralds, almost hugging the walls as the Kingsguard knights walked to their left to protect them but the likelihood that they were to be attacked was low. Once they arrived at their table they were met by Lord Tyrell, his wife, his kids, his cousins, and his mother and they were all very happy to see them. Or so they showed the Realm...Rhaella kissed the ladies and had her hand kissed by the men before she could sit and rest her legs a bit.
Viserys was to her left, a bit overwhelmed with everything but making his best to be a good Prince, one that had learned the etiquette lessons. Then there was a sad Rhaenys, this because her cousins could not sit with her, then her brother, the King, now in his mother's lap, looking at everyone with a big grin despite being sleepy. Finally, the ladies were to Elia's left. Behind them, in the space between Rhaella and Viserys was Ser Arthur, between Viserys and Rhaenys was Ser Barristan and between Rhaenys, her mother and brother was Ser Jaime. Ser Oswell and Ser Gerold were on each side of the host's table.
Next, Rhaella took a good look at the tables and tried to identify a few familiar faces just for the fun of it. She saw Prince Oberyn and the Dornish party occupying half of a table with the other half having Lord Brandon and a couple of Northerns. Lord Edmure and Ser Brynden occupied one of the two tables for the Riverlanders, Lord Arryn, and his nephew occupied one table with a few more Valemen, and another table had the Stormlanders flanking Lord Stannis who seemed like he had enough contact with people for the day. Two or three tables seemed to have Reachners but her mind kept asking if there were any Ironborn present, proving that Ser Jacaerys Velaryon's worries had no fundament...but she either saw none or could not identify them.
A servant ringing a bell called in for silence and the room progressively got silent allowing Lord Tyrell, and his huge grin, to stand up and begin the inauguration speech. "MY LORDS AND LADIES!" he began with a strong pitch. "It is a great honor to be here starting this marvelous tourney in this magnificent castle that is the Red Keep. During the past two years, our Realm has been ravished by war and many here fought for different sides but as we stand here, we are all on the same side. So let us all praise peace and let us pray it holds until the end of days by having some fun and enjoyment as the best knights and warriors in the Realm face each other, not to kill one another but to fraternize and form strong friendships to endure the test of time." Then he turned to Rhaella which immediately left her nervous. "Now I ask our gracious Queen Rhaella for some words on behalf of the Crown?" Oh Gods...I was not expecting this...
Rhaella stood up nervously, gulped and improvised to the best of her ability while trying to restrain her shaking. "Thank you for the magnificent speech Lord Tyrell." And she meant this. "I would like to cement My Lord's hope that peace lasts and we can all mend the wounds of war and form strong friendships that endure the test of time. The Crown and I thank House Tyrell for organizing and bearing the expenses of this tourney and may the best warriors win." Cheers and claps echoed in the Hall and Rhaella sighed internally.
"Marvelous!" Lord Tyrell proclaimed as she sat down, hiding her shaking hands from sight. "Without further ado, I declare the tourney officially open! Long live King Aegon the Sixth of His Name!"
There were more cheers in the room and the minstrels and musicians began playing their songs while the servants began serving food to the attendees. Rhaella hoped everything would go smoothly, without scandals and since they were at it, allow her to eat a big blueberry pie that was calling her already from the servant's hand.
Brandon Stark V
Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Year 284 AC
The dishes had stopped coming a few minutes ago and by the looks of it, it was time for the dances. Brandon took a peek around the room to see if he could spot a Ned staring at this tourney's Ashara Dayne but by the looks of it, the Lord of the North did not find any such individuals though a smile came at the memory. "It is good to have another Northern face here, Mark. This city is full of southrons and sometimes a little bit of the North is always welcome."
"Thank you, Bran. It is good to be here." Mark nodded. "And sorry I took so long to get here."
"Are you going to eat that duck leg, Mark?" Lord Wyman inquired. Now Brandon had eaten quite a bit but Gods be damned Lord Wyman was completely mad when it came to food and it was no wonder that he was almost too fat to ride or wear armor. Perhaps he was seeing if he was the last man-eating...he still had some competition at a few other tables.
"No, My Lord, you can eat it."
"Thank you very much." The larger man said with a big smile on his lips as he picked the duck leg and ate it in an instant. "By the way, Lord Brandon, I have something to report you." he said as he cleaned his mouth.
"About what, My Lord?" Brandon asked concerned.
"One of my men was found dead yesterday by a couple of whores in the Street of Silk. He was stabbed seventeen times and a sheet of paper was left behind..."
"With a spiral made of blood?" Brandon asked, gritting his teeth in anger.
"Yes."
"Fuck! It's the same fucker who killed Daryn!" Brandon concluded without hesitation.
"I am of the same opinion, My Lord." Lord Wyman confessed.
"What exactly is happening, Bran, My Lord?" Mark asked confused which was normal because he did not know about what was plaguing them in the shit-smelling city. "I understand that someone killed household guards but what is it the symbols?"
"Some dumb fuck is killing people and leaving a weird symbol behind made of blood but this city is so large that we cannot find the guy!" Brandon said bitterly. "And last time he seemed to be concealed in a brown robe which makes everything even harder."
"Indeed, it could be any of the half a million individuals that live here." Lord Manderly added.
"But I'm not giving up!" Brandon avowed. "I'm going to find whoever is responsible for this and bring him to justice!"
"Looks like I already have a job to do then." Mark said with a smile.
"We should also bring this to the next Council Meeting, Lord Brandon." Lord Wyman proposed. "It is an offense towards our two Houses and the North."
"We will do that, do not worry My Lord." Brandon nodded. "But we ought to find more leads about this guy and I fear I have no clue where such clues can be found."
"We will find something, My Lord." Lord Wyman assured as he pointed towards Brandon's left side. "Someone seems to wish to speak to you."
Brandon turned his head to his left and saw Edmure coming in his way, slightly shyly which was not normal. "Hey, Brandon..." The lad said, waving to him.
"Edmure what is the matter?" Brandon asked curiously.
"Well...I have a big favor to ask you..." The Tully boy said, averting his gaze from Brandon's own.
"If I can help you, I will." Brandon assured what a smile, trying to ease the lad.
"I wanted some lessons on how to joust..."
He wants what? "Why? You want to enter the lists?"
"Yes."
"You are still a kid, Edmure." Brandon dismissed. Lord Wyman and Mark nodded to his words and if more people heard them they would also agree with him.
"But I need to enter the lists!" Edmure protested.
"Why?"
"It does not matter."
"Yes, it does. Jousts are very dangerous, especially for lads like you. You know you can die, right?"
The mention of his potential death left the Lord of the Riverlands shaken for his eyes bulged a little but he still seemed resolute in his idea because he immediately composed himself. "I shall not die."
Brandon admired his squire's courage but feared for his recklessness. "I'm sure you will not, but now tell me why you want to enter the lists so badly."
"No."
"Then go ask your uncle for lessons." Brandon said, slightly angered with the secrecy.
"I already did and he will not teach me anything because he thinks, like you, that it is dangerous!" Edmure countered. "Plus, I'm still your squire! You ought to teach me how to joust!"
"Tough luck then. If you do not tell me, I will not even consider it." Brandon was very curious about the reason that was making Edmure so secretive and stubborn.
"Fine! I wish to crown someone the Queen of Love and Beauty!" The lad ended up confessing.
Brandon smirked and so did Lord Wyman and Mark. "Oh...a lady is involved...who is the lucky one?"
"It does not matter, Bran!" Edmure barked, his cheeks flushing red. "I told you the reason why I must enter the lists and now you will help me!"
"Sure thing, I just have to find out who she is now."
"I won't tell you!" Edmure immediately said.
"I do not need it." Brandon chuckled much to the boy's irritation. "I can smell it...I'm a wolf or did you forget?"
"What?"
"Bran, stop messing with the lad." Mark scolded.
"Watch this." Brandon urged. Firstly, you pressure them and force them to look at the lady, secondly, you follow their gaze and thirdly you identify the girl and score! Target located. Blonde hair and blue eyes, by her side a man with the same coloring and another with dark brown hair and eyes. "Lynesse Hightower!"
Edmure's already red cheeks became so red he seemed to be close to exploding and his open mouth and bulged eyes said it all, Brandon had just nailed it. "How did you..."
"I can sniff it." Brandon laughed as Mark slapped his own forehead. "I have to say that you have good taste...in a few years when she becomes a woman grown, she will be a beauty. But I cannot in my good conscience allow you to partake in the jousts, not even for such a beauty."
"Why?" The Lord of the Riverlands now sounded desperate. "Please, Brandon..."
"Because I do not want any more friends dead because of me." Brandon said with a serious expression that hushed Edmure and made him look to the floor as if he was almost crying. "But there are other ways to get the girl..."
That made him look back at Brandon. "What other ways?"
Brandon smirked once more. "You wish to know how my brother got the girl of his dreams?"
"How?" Brandon stood up and grabbed Edmure by the shoulders and pushed him towards Lynesse Hightower. "Brandon what are you doing? Stop! Brandon!"
"You will be thanking me in a couple of minutes, lad." Brandon avowed. "Plus you did say you wished to know how my brother got the girl."
"Brandon! You are embarrassing me!" Edmure protested as he struggled but Brandon was much stronger than him, especially now that he was almost back to his full strength. They arrived at the table at which the Hightowers were seated in just a few seconds. Besides them, many Reachners, a lot of which showed some air of superiority that annoyed Brandon to the skull.
Lynesse and her siblings were looking at them with surprised and confused looks too. "Ser Baelor, Ser Garth." Brandon politely started the conversation.
"Lord Stark, Lord Tully." The eldest Hightower acknowledged while the younger nodded when the names were said. "At what should I thank this conversation? I must confess I was not expecting you tonight..."
"We have a rather awkward request to inquire not to you, nor your brother but to your sister Lynesse."
"Me?" The pretty girl said surprised.
"Aye." Brandon nodded as he slapped Edmure in the shoulder. "Edmure here would really appreciate if you could grant him a dance, would you not Edmure?"
The Lord of the Riverlands gulped and inhaled some air before he finally answered, stammering. "Yes...if My Lady would have me and My Lords see no...problem with it...I would...like it very much..."
Ser Baelor smiled and so did Ser Garth. "Well, it is up to Lynesse."
The brothers were no longer a problem but the girl...Brandon did hope she would accept the dance otherwise things could get rough. How was he going to explain the failure to Edmure? Ah! I should have not acted so recklessly! Just because it worked with Ned doesn't mean it will work with everyone! Gods be damned!
"Well...it would seem improper for me to refuse..." Yes! Nailed it! "And you are the first one to ask me, My Lord, so..."
Brandon watched Edmure's deep blue eyes shine as a big smile appeared on his lips. "Thank you, My Lady. I am not an excessively good dancer but I will make sure I do not disappoint you." Then he extended his right hand and she took it.
"As long as my feet are still perfect after the dance, I think it will be just fine." And the duo went to join the other duos in the dancing hall. Mission accomplished.
"Are you going to dance, Garth?" Brandon heard Ser Baelor ask his brother.
"No, I'm fine."
"Then I will ask the Princess and the Queen for a dance then." Ser Baelor said as he stood up. "What about you, Lord Stark? Are you dancing tonight?"
"I might." Brandon admitted as he eyed the room. Like Ser Baelor he had already given some thought to dancing with Princess Elia and the Queen. He had also thought about dancing with little Rhaenys but that was too unbecoming for the Lord Paramount of the North. Then he spotted someone he wished to hold a small conversation with. "Well, Ser Baelor, I will let you start with the Princess and the Queen, and then I will try my luck. I wish you good dances."
"Thank you and likewise, My Lord." Ser Baelor nodded as he left to the Royal Table.
"Ser Garth." Brandon nodded.
"My Lord."
Brandon walked to the other side of the Royal Table where the Ladies-in-Waiting were and he met the golden-haired woman with emerald eyes who immediately snorted at his presence. "You want a dance, My Lord?" she asked with a fake smile.
"I just stopped by to tell you that you have seven days to apologize," Brandon explained. "But sure, we can have a dance and you can apologize in the process..."
Cersei scoffed yet again. "I would not wish to hurt you by stepping on your feet, My Lord...sometimes I misstep..."
"I'm very thankful for your concern, My Lady, and impressed that it is only sometimes you misstep...I was worried it was a recurring thing..."
Her emerald green eyes narrowed and her mask fell, showing that she was very angry. "I will never apologize to a dimwit like you! Mark my words, Stark!"
"I shall, so when you do apologize I can rub it in your face." Brandon countered. "Seriously, why can you not recognize that you are at fault and do what normal human beings do in your situation: apologize?"
"I already told you, My Lord, that it is not my fault you are such a wimpy man so easily offend but not even insults." she lashed out. "But alas, if you are to cry, I might lend you a handkerchief to clean your tears."
"You ought to keep it, My Lady, once the seven days end, I promise you will be weeping far more." Brandon concluded, annoyed, but making his best to show that she would never beat him. He walked away but turned to her one last time, showing her seven fingers before dropping one to show that she only had six days before he spoke with Ser Kevan or perhaps her father, demanding that she was placed in her place. The best thing was that she kept insulting him so he could easily use that in his favor.
As he approached the Queen, he noticed that Cersei stood up and abandoned the Great Hall. You might think yourself a proud lioness, but the direwolf fears you not. Brandon also took notice that Elia was dancing with Ser Baelor in the center of the Hall. "My Queen, I come to request you a dance."
"From me, My Lord? I'm too old for such affairs..." The Queen quickly dismissed but he would have none of that.
"That is nonsense, My Queen," Brandon assured. "And better be prepared because I'm quite sure I will not be the only one asking."
The Queen smiled. "I suppose you are right, My Lord." she inhaled and then exhaled some air and stood up. Despite being as old as his father was when he died, the Queen was still very beautiful, better than every time he saw her when he was a prisoner. Her scarlet red dress improved everything further. "I truly hope I do not step on My Lord's feet...I'm very rusty, I'm afraid."
"Being stepped upon by a Targaryen is not the biggest atrocity your family has done to me." His words immediately made the smile the Queen had dissipate. Good. While I do not wish to harm her or her own, I still need to showcase that I'm not some weak man, I'm a Stark of Winterfell, before the Targaryens even existed, my family was already enduring harsh winters and Winter is Coming.
He waited for her to come to his side and extend her hand to him which he took once given the opportunity, leading the Queen to the dancing floor for a slow and pleasant dance which both of them enjoyed.
Olenna Redwyne II
Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Year 284 AC
The opening feast had ended and Olenna was more than tired and more than annoyed with all of it. Luckily the Ladies-in-Waiting had just ended helping her dress the nightgowns so she was ready to go to sleep. But a knock on the door prevented her from doing it and she scoffed because she knew exactly who it was. "Come in, Mace."
Her son entered her room in the Maidenvault carelessly but luckily there was nothing in front of him to be thrown to the ground or shattered. He knelt in front of her and Olenna recognized the face that people made when she destroyed them with words or deeds. "Mother, why are you so mad with me?" he asked desperately.
Mace had tried to talk with her countless times since she arrived but she merely said the essential and of course her son knew that this meant she was angry. Because his many attempts kept failing, he got more desperate but she had to praise his ability to focus on his duty as the host of this nonsense. "Why am I mad, you ask? I do not know...maybe because you are wasting money on a stupid tourney. Maybe because I have to be in this poop-smelling city once more. Maybe because I am surrounded by dim-wits...shall I continue or is it enough for you to understand the picture?"
"But I thought I was doing a great service for everyone..." Mace said sadly. "Promote peace...promote our House."
"Peace? Mace we are humans and we thrive in conflicts and some of us just need to be glanced the wrong way to decide a war is needed." Olenna explained. "You wasting a fortune in this tourney will not change humanity but will certainly change our purse for the worse."
"I'm sorry..."
Seeing her son so disappointed made the mother in her come forward. "Oh well, surely the Queen and the Princess will appreciate your efforts...maybe the Babe King will appreciate you for showing him the first tourney of his life."
"Do you really think so?" Her son asked with a hopeful look.
No...maybe? "Of course Mace. But for what it is worth, next time, tell me of your plans before you make them happen, especially when it involves a bloody tourney. I do dislike being angry with you but often you give me no other choice."
"I will mother, I promise." Mace avowed as he stood up. "I will send the message by rider, as you instructed me. I will be more careful."
Olenna smiled at that. Something did enter his head besides air and that was good. And such a thing as sending messages by rider was crucial to keep in one's head as no one could trust these Maesters fully. Least of all one born at Lannisport... "Now, I am happy to hear that!" Mace smiled, thankful for her recognition and she somewhat felt good about it too. She meant what she said, she hated to just lash at people for no reason. The problem was they usually gave her a reason but if they did not, she would not lash at them. That was simple reasoning really. "Now, before I go to bed and since you are here...tell me everything about the members of the councils."
"Hum...where should I start...maybe the Small Council?"
"Whatever one is fine by me as long as you do not take too long."
"Well, Lord Stannis works the same as five people, he is usually contesting things but does not press too much. He is to marry Lady Catelyn Tully very soon as he announced a couple of days back." A Tully? That was a good marriage even if House Tully was not exactly at their best as of late, the consequence of plain-sighted over-ambition. They would need to pay more attention to this Stannis as by the looks of it, the Rebel Alliance was still strong and that man had an iron will. Resisting the might of the Reach for a year, granted they were not even trying to take the castle is certainly a feat. "Ser Jacaerys Velaryon raised concern about the Ironborn not sending representatives as he fears they might be preparing to rebel. I do not think they would be so foolish as to rebel when the whole Realm is somewhat united in a Regency."
The Velaryon was astute if not something else, he could think logical things when provided with little to work with...and he was likely loyal to the Crown considering the family in question. "Well, these squids did attack our shores during the Rebellion so I would not put it past them that they are preparing a revolt," Olenna admitted though she was of the same opinion as her son, rebelling now was a foolish affair. "You would do well to tell your cousin, my nephew, to put his ships ready to engage."
"You think they will really revolt, mother?" Mace said aghast. "Seven take me!"
Olenna rolled her eyes. "No, Mace, I hold the same opinion as you but people are stupid and we, or at least I'm not. Better be prepared for everything than regret it later. Now continue, please."
"Ser Kevan seems to do a decent job, and so did the Lyseni and the Grand Maester."
"You have nothing to say about them? Disputes? Grievances? Nothing?" she asked annoyed.
"I could not see anything worth mentioning, mother."
Olenna sighed. "What about Jon Arryn? Does he have problems?"
"Not that I saw any...He seems like a good man and everyone seems to respect him if not like him." Mace explained. "He leads the meetings very well if I must add. Pays attention to everything said and always inquires how my kids are doing." Old Jon Arryn still has it...while he is not the most cunning of individuals, he is knowledgeable and knows how to speak.
That covered the Small Council. She did not get much but it was to be expected, Mace was not good at analyzing people, their intents, and weaknesses. "What about the Regency what can you tell me about them?"
"The Queen and the Dornish Princess work well together and intend on nominating at least a Lady-in-Waiting from every Kingdom." Interesting and somewhat expected...though a Florent? The ugliest of the bunch too? She expected better from these women. "Ser Brynden seems very critical of everything..." Interesting... "Lord Morrigen is weird..."
Weird? "How weird?"
Mace shrugged. "I cannot explain. Sometimes he just comes up with weird exclamations out of nowhere. I do not understand his objective at all." If you are watching him and know not what the man is doing, I have no way of understanding him either. It seems that those Stormlanders need a better watch...The question is: how? Spies? Can any of our spies infiltrate it properly? Perhaps with the famous Robert Baratheon as the ruler, they could but Stannis Baratheon by all accounts will be more problematic. Far more problematic...I do not like this.
"And the others?" she demanded. "Come on Mace, I wish to sleep."
"Then how about we do it in the morrow?"
Ah, Mace! Why did you have to ruin the mood! "How about you just do what I told you to and be quick about it?"
"Ok...hum...Lord Royce seems like Lord Arryn, nothing to say about him. Lord Stark is very talkative and seems a bit rash but so far is not as rash as some talks seemed to portray him."
"Well, he did come here asking Aerys for his bloody son likely ignoring the consequences of such action. Even you are not that reckless." Olenna admitted but her words hurt her son's pride a little. In her mind, even if Mace said the rumors were unfairly portraying the new Lord of the North, that Stark was just too impulsive and reckless to be proper material for a Lord. His late father though...that one was cunning and a renowned fighter as she remembered. He made interesting matches and moves but he no doubt got too bold and paid the price.
If she remembered well, the second son was married to a bloody Dornishwoman of all people. How that happened still made no sense in Olenna's mind as the two Kingdoms were on opposite ends of the continent. "Besides the talks, the smallfolk respect him much, mother. They talk about how he took the brutal whipping without making a sound and they say that he took his revenge upon Aerys the Mad by turning into a wolf and crushing his throat, saving them from a monster who was going to burn them alive."
Olenna could but laugh at that. "These peasants amuse me at times. They all make everything so much more fantastical. So much more interesting."
"But all of it except him becoming a wolf is true, mother."
"You do not say..." Olenna sighed. "These Starks are no pushovers when the time comes. That is a fact. Every time they take their heads off the snow and come south the Realm trembles. Better let them enjoy the snow, far away from us."
"I have seen Lord Stark preoccupied with something though," Mace said with a confused look. "Apparently someone killed one of his guards and he is hunting them for a couple of weeks. Gruesome business, I say. I recall that the killer left a symbol written in blood, at least, my men told me that.
"The wolf can't get the scent then? Perhaps he needs better training." Sometimes, Olenna enjoyed her own japes a bit too much but they were top quality. She could have been a rowdy bard but being rich and having sex was much better than wondering if she had food to eat that day. Now, she still preferred her life of ranting fools.
"This city is colossal in size and they say the assassin was hiding in robes so it will be as if they are searching for a needle in a hay bale." Mace concluded.
"That much is true." But something does not seem right in this...Who would go to such an extent to kill a guard? The only logical conclusion was that it was a message...I can kill your guard and you are next? But who wants to kill a Stark? Some fanatical Aerys loyalist? Some extremely pious holy man? Someone who thinks he is a wolf and is afraid? Oh well, that is not my business. "That is from the Regents is it not?"
"Yes, mother." Mace nodded.
"What about those Advisors or whatever fancy name they have for those attendees? Isn't your brother-in-law in it?"
"Yes, Baelor is there."
"What is doing?" What is Leyton's plan I wonder?
"The Advisors barely participate in the Council. By the time they get to say a word, everything is already settled." Mace explained.
"So you have nothing?" What a bloody disappointment. I did get some interesting threads but I find that me sleeping would have been better time spent.
"Let me see...the Princess's brother is now the Dornish Advisor and Lord Tywin's daughter seems like the most annoyed woman I ever laid my eyes on."
Olenna chuckled. "Like father, like daughter." she pulled the sheets off her bed. "Very well, Mace. I appreciate the information even if there is a little. I will be sure to watch you in the jousts tomorrow. Now go to sleep."
He stood up and made his way to the door. "I promise I will bring you glory, mother." Ah, my poor son...making promises he cannot keep...like a normal human being. Once she was alone in her room, Olenna laid down on her bed and stared at the ceiling for a little bit. It was not a bad bed by any means even if she preferred her own in Highgarden. I still showed that fool who is in charge a couple of times... she smiled at her thoughts. "I wish I was young and not in this shit-smelling city."
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Radomir's Renegades: Greatjon was indeed adamant about not having Targaryens on the throne as many others in the North but the question is, will he revolt against the Starks or just criticize them? The Boltons and Ryswells might be easier to assess...but revolting is a harsh business.
Catelyn is sad because Edmure is still Brandon's squire and spends time with him. Whatever Edmure learned is irrelevant, it's just something to push her jealously and sadness. This chapter tells you exactly with whom Edmure wants to sire 16 children. And I'm not sure if these Westerlings would have such an easy path to victory considering the people that are going to joust in this tourney.
I don't think the Old Gods have any sort clergy, it's a personal cult and the prayers don't need anyone to tell you how to pray, hence why Ashara and Rhaella found it more optimal, more simple, and less bureaucratic. That said, it doesn't mean that religions can't reform, the Faith did in canon, they went from fanatics to more or less happy with the status quo and more tolerant to some extent.
And so it begins. Will Mace impress his mother? Did Rhaella eat the blueberry pie she wanted so much? Will Brandon find the killer? Will Cersei apologize? Did Edmure step on Lynesse's feet? And most importantly, did Lord Manderly succeed in winning the competition for the biggest food eater? (Apologies for trying to fill this section with nonsense.)
Thank you for spending time reading and I hope everyone has a nice day and stays safe.