11th Moon, 63 AC
Plains outside Dalston Keep, South of King's Landing
The Iron Throne loomed above her in the dark hall, the faint beginnings of the morning light shining through the high paned windows of the throne room in the Red Keep.
She made her way towards the throne as she had dozens of times, feeling the cold marble on her bare feet as she ascended the proud steps to the conqueror's throne.
She reached out to the throne slowly, her fingers softly touching the cold metal steel of the blades that adorned the throne, pulling herself towards it.
Suddenly a force was at her feet, pulling her, dragging her down the cold steps, she shouted as she fell down to the floor, a ringing in her head and the taste of blood in her mouth.
With horror she raised her arm and saw blood, her blood flowing from her arm and hands, dark red crimson onto the smooth marble floor, pooling and congealing in front of her eyes.
She felt eyes upon her and looked up, a vague figure ascended the stairs to the throne, her throne, his silver hair shining in the pale morning rays.
There were others beside her, though they paid her no mind. A lion bowed its head as the man ascended the stairs to the throne slowly, while another figure of shadow knelt and extended a flaming spear towards the throne.
A crown for a King said another figure armored in green and gold as the man sat upon the throne, a crown of rubies upon his head, with others in the hall taking up the chant.
She forced herself to look up to the throne, to this thief, the usurper who dared sit upon her throne, but he wasn't alone.
A pair of dark eyes emerged from the shadow and a dragon as purple as the blackest night emerged from behind the throne, roaring.
Laena awoke with a start, her heart pounding, drenched in sweat.
A dream….nothing more…a nightmare Laena thought, sitting up from the bed and steadying herself, the smell of morning dew heavy on the air as she opened the tent entrance, hoping the cold air would steady her nerves.
''Is aught amiss your Grace?'' One of her servants asked, no doubt seeing the expression on the Queen's face, to which Laena nodded her head and waved her off to prepare her breakfast.
Even though her heart had ceased its rapid beating, the dream perturbed her more than she would have cared to admit. The figure that had ascended her throne had been vague as if made of shadow…but one thing had been clear, the usurper had been a man and a Targaryen one at that.
She had not been able to get a good look at the figure, though she had a good idea of who it had represented….she did however get a good look at the dragon. There was only one dragon alive with the distinct dark purple coloring….her brother Vaekars dragon Andalax.
Andalax is no threat Laena thought, further confirming that it was just a dream rather than prophecy, according to latest reports Andalax was still less than 10 feet in length,little more than a sparrow compared to Vhagar….not to mention her husbands dragon Oathwing and her daughter Vaellas dragon Narrah, all fully grown and bound to her cause.
Pushing the nightmare from her mind she broke her fast with a light meal of a single hard boiled egg, a flagon of cold water and an oatmeal of chopped apples and sugar. Despite her rather slothful nature, Laena had never been an indulgent woman and credited her temperance for her health, even after birthing six children and the fast approaching of her 40th name day.
As she broke her fast her mind once again wandered back to the dream.A woman of Laena's intelligence of course knew that some with the blood of the dragon were blessed….or cursed with prophetic dreams….Daenys the Dreamer, her ancestor had foresaw the coming doom of Valyria, prompting the Targaryens to abandon their home in Valyria and take shelter on Dragonstone. At the forefront of those with the gift was her own mother.
She knew her mother Nyel had been afflicted with such prophetic dreams even from childhood, and her mother had told her many times of the dream she had shortly before her father, Aegon the Conqueror, had been lost at sea. Laena had never before had a prophetic dream however and she thought it unlikely she would have one so late in life. Furthermore the images in her dream further convinced her this was a dream born of stress rather than prophecy. The lion no doubt represented the Lannisters and the flaming spear was the sigil of the Martells. The Lannister boy was merely 8 years of age however, and the Martells would soon be bound by marriage by her daughter Larrisa and her hand of the king's son Rhodry.
A dream….nothing more Laena told herself once more confidently, she was simply stressed after those incompetent thugs had failed to capture her brother on Dragonstone, she put the thoughts of the matter aside once again, resolving to give the matter no more thought.
She would have liked to enjoy the quiet of the morning for a while longer, but a busy day meant a busy morning.
Lianna was the first to come right as she was finishing her breakfast. As Master of Laws the upcoming peace council had been largely planned by her, something Laena was content to let her daughter handle….she had her own plans that needed her overseeing.
From the beginning there had been conflict relating to the location of the peace council. Aumary Tyrell had of course suggested Highgarden, while Raymont Baratheon had all but demanded it be held at Storm's End, stating the only circumstance that he would find himself under the walls of Highgarden was with an army at his back and the only peace offer he would bring with him would be delivered by trebuchet.
Lianna had found a compromise in this, suggesting the peace council be held on neutral territory in the Crownlands, but not so close to Kings Landing that suggested the threat of royal interference. As Queen, it was within Laenas authority to command her vassals to the negotiating table if she was overseeing it, being akin to a royal summons, but the terms of the negotiation and potential peace could only be agreed upon by the Lords Paramount.
In the end the area around Dalston Keep had been agreed upon due to its proximity to the front lines, though due to the small size of the castle, Lianna had decided to hold the council on the grassy plains some miles away from the castle as to not strain the resources of House Gaunt, with the crown paying for all expenses of the council as a gesture of good faith, a foolish expense in Laenas mind, but she acquiesced, the benefits of this council were worth a few gold dragons.
Her daughter spent the better part of an hour briefing her on what was to come, and not with much subtlety requesting her mother simply remain silent and leave the talking to her, which Laena agreed to, more to end her daughters audience than anything else, she had much to attend to before the meeting the next morning.
Lianna as was her nature had clearly been somewhat suspicious of all of her mothers concessions and had even gone so far as to ask Laena if she was planning anything which the Queen had denied of course, stating she was content to let Lianna handle the finer points of the council.
Before leaving her daughter did inform her that Cymella had arrived that morning with a small escort from Storms End, to which Laena commanded her daughter to summon her to her tent, there was much to discuss.
Half an hour later her sister arrived, wearing a loose fitting black dress with splendid silver stitching, though it was not lost on Laena that her sister had gained weight since the birth of her daughter Marena.
''I am pleased to hear your birth went well….the girl is healthy?'' Laena questioned to Cymella, who was still standing in the entrance of the tent.
Her sister said nothing but gave a short stiff nod.
The Queen gestured to an open chair at her table facing her to which Cymella quietly made her way to and sat down.
''Shall I have them bring in the first course…..buttered bread and clay baked salmon….you must be famished after your journe….'' Laena began but her sister cut her off.
''Did you kill him?'' Cymella demanded coldly.
Laena was silent at that….the familial smile slowly disappearing from her face.
''I do not appreciate such accusations Cymella….'' Laena said, taking a sip of cold water.
''Dont play the fool with me….did you kill him….I will have an answer.'' Cymella said sternly.
Laena found herself growing annoyed with her younger sister's insolence, but given the delicate manner of the situation she forced her annoyance back.
She shook her head after a moment.
''I did not kill your bard Cymella.'' She said curtly.
''Then who did?'' Cymella asked, the coldness still heavy in her tone.
''I am sure you have heard the circumstances of his death…..I have little else to offer on the matter….the Black Bard reports that your Blue Bard was involved in an amorous relationship with the wife of a wealthy tradesman in Stags Den…..the man found out….you know the rest….he was slain after leaving a tavern.'' Laena replied.
Cymella snorted ''I know the story….I have heard the tale being bandied about in the winesinks….the truth on the other hand…..''
''I see you still have your doubts.'' Laena said.
''Of course I do….I know you.'' Cymella said venomously.
Laena was silent at that for a moment before responding, holding her temper in check ''I will not say I had any love for the man…especially not after I learned about your pregnancy in the days following his death….if the man had returned I would have gelded him….but I did not kill him.''
Cymella was silent at that.
''Tell me sweet sister…..he was slain in Stags Den, just outside the gates of Storms End where you had retired to the birthing bed….did he send a raven to you…informing you of his coming….as any lover would do?''
Cymella was silent once again but he saw a flash of doubt pass through her eyes.
Laena went in for the kill ''He grew tired of you Cymella….don't act as if you didn't know the man's reputation….he was well known amongst the ladies of the realm…adorned in silks and scents and oils, you were not the first noblewoman to be used by him….''
Her sister said nothing, staring at the table.
Laena gently placed her hand on her sisters.
''Look at me.'' She commanded, and Cymella did as she was bid.
''I did not kill your bard…..you have my word.'' Laena said.
Her sister studied her blankly with her purple eyes, not a trace of what she was thinking betrayed in her expression.
At last her sister simply nodded.
''Your dalliance with the bard was foolish Cymella….but as a gesture of good faith and forgiveness that I do not bear you any ill will….I have a proposal for you.'' Laena said, happy to have the matter of the bard behind her.
''What proposal?'' Cymella asked, slowly pouring herself a cup of wine.
''I wish to offer a betrothal…..one between my daughter Daeoril and your boy Boros…they are both young but in time…..just as we are bonded, so too must our children be…let our alliance continue.'' Laena said.
She saw that had piqued her sisters interest, a betrothal with one of Laenas daughters was the best match she could have hoped for her son Boros, especially with the rumors that would no doubt circulate throughout the realm regarding the circumstances of Cymellas illegitimate daughter Marena would likely surround the young Boros Baratheon.
''I am….interested in such a match….but my loutish husband will never agree to the match….he loves you not after failing to command Lord Tyrell to step down at the beginning of the war…and outside of this….when he sees my daughter….he will know Laena…he knows now..'' Cymella said, and Laena detected hints of fear in her voice, she still bore a token of Raymont Baratheons ''affection'' as evidenced by her still crooked nose which he had broken years earlier.
''You needn't fear Cymella….for yourself…or your daughter.'' Laena said softly.
Cymella snorted ''And why is that''
''Because'' Laena began slowly ''Your Lord Husband will not live forever.''
A silence hung over the tent as a look of understanding passed through her sister's face.
''What is your answer?'' Laena asked once again, breaking the silence.
''I….accept.'' Cymella said finally.
Laena raised her cup above the table towards her sister, and after a moment's hesitation Cymella raised hers.
''To the House of the Dragon.'' Laena said with a soft smile as they toasted.
It was dusk by the time her sister left, and as loathe as she was, Laena had to attend to one more piece of business before the following day.
She summoned Alaric, the Black Bard, her spymaster who arrived shortly after.
''Well?'' Laena asked immediately as he entered the tent.
''It has been seen to your Grace…..we have more than enough…..everything is arranged'' The bard answered.
''Who?'' Laena demanded
''Lord Tarly and his brother Ser Grance, Lord Peake, Lord Florent….Lord Osgrey as well, but he is not aware of the entirety of it…..Lord Hightower has given us some assurances as well.'' The Bard stated.
Laena nodded her approval ''Good…good, that should be more than enough….''
A servant discreetly entered the tent and told something to the Black Bard, whose face grew rather pale.
''Your Grace…'' The man began, and Laena understood at once.
''Send him in….and get the chests.'' She commanded.
The Bard nodded and rather hastily made his exit as a hooded figure entered the tent from the darkness outside.
The very air within the tent seemed to grow colder with the figure's entrance, and Laena was not entirely sure it was because of the briefly opened tent flap. She gave a glance at the hooded figure but could see little beneath the hood which was shrouded in darkness, seeing so little it might have been as if he had no face at all.
''Do you have what was agreed upon?'' The figure said in a soft voice, neither harsh or gentle, masculine or feminine, or kind or cruel.
Laena nodded ''A significant price…but one which has been paid…..such a price means I am expecting guaranteed success.''
The figure said nothing to that, but slowly walked towards her, the light from the torches flickering as he walked by, in spite of herself, Laena took a step backwards, it was clear she was in the presence of sorcery.
''The god of death shall have his due…that is certain….the many faced god shall have his due and a man must have a name.''
Ignoring the goosebumps shivering down her spine she leaned close to the man, feeling cold emanating from the man's hood, a cold which set the very hairs on her neck standing up.
She whispered a name.
The figure nodded and stepped back.
''Valar Morghulis.'' The figure said simply, turning to leave.
Laena watched the hooded man walk towards the exit, his footfalls making no noise.
''Wait.'' Laena commanded, her voice surprising even herself.
The hooded man turned.
''Who are you…I would look upon your face.'' Laena commanded, doing her best to ignore the onset of goosebumps once again, she needed to know who she was dealing with….what she was dealing with.
The hooded man removed his hood wordlessly.
If Laena had been expecting a demon, she was disappointed. The man was utterly and completely unassuming,young with short brown curls, the hint of a mustache and brown eyes, plain in a peasant sort of way.
''A man is no one.'' The figure said simply before disappearing into the night as the birds and crickets of the night sang their song, heavy with the promise of death.
The Next Morning
Princess Lianna made another round past the pavilions, breathing in the cold frosty morning air to calm her nerves.
She had been up since before dawn, making preparations and ensuring that was all in order for the upcoming negotiations between Raymont Baratheon and Aumary Tyrell that would be held later that morning under her oversight. It was to be the Princesses first real test as Master-of-Laws and she had resolved to spare no effort to ensure that things went smoothly.
As one might expect a good deal of stress came about with organizing such an important event. From the get go she had experienced difficulty, first with establishing the location of the negotiations, and then with convincing both men to stand down their armies temporarily and withdraw them to their own territory away from the frontlines to ensure the fighting ceased during negotiations, with the Tyrell levies withdrawing to Roseford and the Baratheons to Nightsong, if she failed to broker a peace they would soon be at eachothers throats once again and the death would continue.
The temperament of Lords Tyrell and Lords Baratheon were also of concern. Lord Tyrell was by far the more reasonable of the two, possessing a good sense of humor and an easy going smile, he would no doubt keep to his courtesies during the course of the negotiations. That was not to say he would not pose any problems, as any good master-of-laws would, Lianna had diligently studied and inquired about the men she was to bring to the negotiating table and had learned much about both of them. Lord Tyrell, while polite and easy going was a deceitful man whos word could not be fully trusted, and furthermore possessed a ruthless spirit, as evidenced by his sacking of the Harvest Town in the Dornish Marches, he was greedy as well, and would likely be loathe to part with any concessions to end the war. What's more it was common knowledge the man was rallying support to the cause and claim of his wife Alyssane Targaryen.
I must not underestimate him Lianna reminded herself, Lord Tyrell would no doubt put on an amiable and friendly air in an attempt to gain favor against the boorish Raymont Baratheon but she must keep it in the back of her mind that the man was plotting treason against the Throne…he was no friend of hers.
Raymont Baratheon, her husband's brother, posed a different sort of problem. While the man could be possessing of a sense of humor and was well liked amongst his Stormlords and retainers, this social competency only extended to his friends. Raymont was known for having a fearsome temper and Lianna had prepared herself to be the target of it, there was little love between Baratheon and the crown since her mother ignored his request at the war's beginning to order Lord Tyrell to stand down. Lianna knew the extent of the man's temper, one only had to look at the nose of her aunt Cymella to gauge that….. she would need to do her best to keep the man calm, she had no wish to endure a shouting match between two powerful lords. She hoped the fact that she was the man's own sister-by-law by her husband Ronnal Baratheon would count for something, but when she had spoken with her husband on the best way to deal with her brother, he had stated that his brother was not one who could be ''dealt'' with or tempered, and the only advice he could offer was to not get him angry and speak honestly and to the point, flowery language would not work in her favor.
Even with these two powerful lords in mind, they were the least of Liannas worries….her greatest worry had to do with her own mother. Lianna, unlike many of her sisters had not spent her childhood on Dragonstone with her mother and instead in the capitol with her grandparents and sister Jaehaera, and this meant that Lianna could not read her mother quite as well as her other sisters, but there was something about her demeanor that aroused her suspicion. Her mother, normally obstinate and angry at any and everything had proved to be surprisingly reasonable during the preparations for the council, being content to leave her to deal with the specifics and scarcely challenging any of her decisions, Lianna knew her mother well enough to know how odd this was and it filled her with no small amount of anxiety, if peace was to be brought to the realm she needed her mother to cooperate….which meant simply keeping her mouth shut.
Not for the first time Laena found herself missing her late sister Syaella, her sister had been growing into a reasonable young woman, gifted with words, and unlike Lianna, her mother had actually listened and heeded her advice, she had been the only one that had been able to make Laena listen to reason…except for Vaella, but Lianna would never be able to trust her younger sisters judgement…not after her role in that barbarous and unjust slaughter they called a trade war in the Summer Isles….no, she was alone, left alone to face whatever her mother was planning.
She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand and looked down, seeing her younger 12 year old sister and ward Larrisa taking her hand in her own.
''You always squint your eyes when you're nervous.'' Larissa said gently.
Lianna had to smile at that before nodding slowly ''I am nervous…..'' She admitted.
''You shouldnt be….youve worked so hard for months….it will all work out.'' Her sister replied fiercely.
Lianna said nothing to that, simply smiling and running a hand through her sister's silver hair, her confidence restored.
''Come….they will be arriving soon.'' Lianna said before the two of them made their way towards the place where the negotiations were to take place.
Her aides had suggested separate pavilions be built for each of the great lords, but Lianna found it impractical to have them all shouting across to a different pavilion, settling instead on a large table, with herself, her mother, Larissa, and her husband and commander of the Dragoncloaks Ronnal Baratheon sitting at the head of the table while Lords Tyrell and Baratheon each would take opposite sides. Behind each area of the table a large banner blew in the wind, rich gold and black stags for the Baratheons, green and gold roses for the Tyrells and a red and black dragon for her own house.
It had been agreed upon that Lord Tyrell and Lord Baratheon would each only bring some 30 trusted retainers and household knights with them, Lianna did not want to turn the negotiations into an armed camp. Beside the main table was a larger one with space for all the retainers and household knights, so that they might break bread together, which Lianna hoped would serve to bring about a spirit of peace and begin to mend the hostilities that would no doubt linger on between the Stormlands and the Reach even if a peace was agreed upon.
To her surprise she found her mother was the first of the notables to arrive, already seated at the head of the table when she returned,all her her Kingsguard save Ser Wyllis Wells, who had remained in the capitol with Daeoril and Jaehara, standing behind her, their white cloaks blowing in the wind, in stark contrast to the nearby black and red Targaryen banner,
''Mother…..if this is to have any chance of working you must leave the talking to m..'' Lianna began.
''Ive heard you the first dozen times Lianna….I shall be as silent as the grave.'' Her mother said hotly and Lianna nodded her head, hoping her mother was sincere.
Her mother then seemed to notice Larrisa standing beside her for the first time and shook her head.
''No…I won't have her here.'' Her mother said sternly.
Larissa took offense at that, recoiling as if slapped and stepped forward as if to shout at her mother, Lianna quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and gently pulled her back, no good could come of that.
''How is she to learn if she does not watch.'' Lianna questioned.
Laena snorted at that ''She is a child….these negotiations are between two grown men….one a traitor and the other a violent wifebeater, no place for a girl of 12, I won't take the risk of her saying something…furthermore there will be talk of war no doubt…..your sister has a gentle heart…hearing such things would no doubt upset her.''
''They would not upset me.'' yelled Larrisa, quite upset.
''I have made my decision….that is final….Ser Androw, see my daughter safely back to her tent '' Her mother commanded and Ser Androw Hollard of the Kingsguard nodded.
''I will tell you all about it when it's done.'' Lianna said gently, but her sister had already stormed off.
Lianna studied her mother, her suspicions rekindled, but before she could question her mother, the herald announced the coming of Lord Tyrell and his retinue.
Lord Aumary Tyrell was dressed in a simple brown jerkin and a heavy cloak of green velvet, the rose of his house stitched in golden thread, though most noticeably he wore an amiable smile, just as Lianna suspected he would.
''Your Grace….Princess.'' The man said, approaching the head of the table, bowing his head.
''Lord Tyrell.'' Lianna responded in greeting.
''How good of you to call this council….far too often one is not given the chance to meet with one's foe in the midst of a war, I am of course glad that the Crown has presented us with this opportunity.'' The man lied.
''How fares my lady sister?'' Her mother asked matter-of-factly.
Lord Tyrell smiled ''How good of you to ask…..truly….she is well, I received word just days ago that she has taken to the birthing bed…from the way she is carrying the Maester believes it to be a boy.''
Lianna could not bring herself to lie and congratulate the man, she was not blind to the fact that the only thing Lord Tyrell was missing in pressing his wife Alyssanes claim was an heir apparent, should her aunt give birth to a son that would further draw the lords of the realm to her cause. With all these things in mind, Lianna simply smiled faintly, deception was not her strong suit.
''That is good to hear…truly…I do hope it is not another stillborn.'' Her mother said, a thin smile on her own face.
She saw something pass through Lord Tyrell's eyes, briefly but the man managed to keep his smile ''I thank you for your well wishes….I had best see myself seated, I see Lord Raymont is finally arrived.''
''That was poorly done.'' Lianna chastised her mother as the man left but her mother did not deign to respond, simply sipping on a glass of ice water.
Lord Raymont was next to approach. As most Baratheons, the man was tall and broad shouldered, but none would ever call him comely. Unlike Lord Tyrell who hid his emotions behind a smile, there was clearly anger written on the man's sullen and unsmiling face.
He gave a nod to his brother Ronnel, Liannas husband and commander of the Dragon Cloaks, Lianna stepped forward to greet him but the man completely ignored her, walking past, right in front of the Queen.
''Your Grace.'' The man said, giving the stiffest of head bows, angered or not Lord Raymont was familiar with the expected courtesies.
''Lord Raymont.'' Her mother replied.
''It is good of you to finally take an interest in this war….though it has come far too late in my opinion…it would have been better served at the beginning of the conflict…not when thousands of my people are dead and wounded….my lands have paid a heavy price for your indecision…your Grace'' He said with thinly veiled contempt.
She saw a look of anger pass through her mothers eyes but thankfully she kept her cool ''My daughter is master-of-laws and will be overseeing these negotiations….if you have something to say you will address her…I am merely here to observe.''
He turned to her, seemingly noticing her for the first time, towering over the rather diminutive princess.
She cleared her throat ''Lord Baratheon…it is true that this conflict was handled poorly….for that you have my sincere regrets….I cannot return life to your dead, but I give you my word that I will do all I can to see this war ended and the return of the Queen's peace.''
Lord Baratheon glared at her for a moment before nodding slightly and turning to leave.
Rather suddenly he turned back to her.
''Tell me Princess…..as Master-of-Laws I am sure you are familiar with the law of six, established by your own ancestor….the Princess Rhaenys.'' He said.
''I am my Lord'' Princess Lianna said hesitantly.
''Then remind me if you will how many times a man is entitled to bear the rod against an unfaithful wife…as a form of chastisement.''He said.
''I….six times my Lord.'' Princess Lianna said meekly, in spite of herself stumbling over her words.
The Lord of Storm's End nodded slowly at that and gave a not so subtle look towards the tent of Princess Cymella upon the hill and wordlessly turned and made his way to the section of the table under the Baratheon banner.
Lord Tyrell was the first to speak ''If we are ready to begin….Princess…my Lord, I would like to present these documents….in them you will find adequate evidence…proofs that the lords of the Dornish Marches traditionally swore fealty to the Lords of the Reach…those lands and all their incomes are mine by right….and my House is entitled to them.''
''What you are entitled to is my fist to your teeth…'' Raymont Baratheon scoffed angrily.
''Lord Baratheon…enough….Lord Tyrell, while these documents do show that the Marcher lords did once swear their fealty to the Gardener Kings of the Reach for a time…that time has passed, not only are you not a Gardener, but upon my great grandsires conquest of the Kingdoms he considered the borders of each Kingdom to be fixed and settled….the Dornish Marches are the rightful territory of the Kingdom of the Stormlands, along with all its incomes and vassalage.'' Lianna said, careful to keep her tone polite.
Lord Tyrell nodded slowly ''I find the crowns position to be regrettable Princess…but I shall respect your decision…I would be willing to explore other possible solutions and bring an end to this war, providing the terms of such an agreement are fair.''
Lianna had been anticipating this, Lord Tyrell was intelligent enough to know he had no true leverage to demand the Marches, the war was not necessarily in his favor despite his victory at Blackhaven and his occupation of Nightsong and Harvest Hall. A settlement of gold and silver was likely the best outcome he could hope for, as it would allow him to save face and replenish his armies to focus on Alyssanes claim, ending a war that had clearly been more difficult than he had been anticipating.
Lianna, not for the first time felt a stab of doubt, this outcome was no doubt exactly what Aumary Tyrell wanted, and she was going to offer it to him on a silver platter, giving him gold to win lords to his cause and the opportunity for him to replenish his weakened armies.
The fighting and death must end Lianna reminded herself, she would find a way to deal with Lord Tyrell and her aunt at a later date, but it was her duty to end the bloodletting that was afflicting the kingdoms, no matter the consequences.
''And what kind of terms would these be?'' Lord Baratheon said, squinting.
''A significant payment of gold and silver…the amount to be determined…I for one would consider a payment of….'' Lord Tyrell began but Raymont Baratheon was already shaking his head.
''You have some nerve…some nerve to make demands….it was you WHO STARTED THIS DAMNED WAR IN THE FIRST PLACE.'' he said, his voice rising to a shout at the end.
Lianna quickly intervened before things got any uglier ''Lord Baratheon, it is true that while Lord Tyrell was flawed in his reasoning in beginning this war, you hold no small amount of responsibility in the devastation and bloodshed that this war has brought the realm, your sack of the city of Ashford was above anything the forces of the Reach engaged in even when considering their assault of the Harvest Town, Lord Tyrell sieged Nightsong into submission with little bloodshed, while you ordered the storming of the castles Peakes Bridge and Holly Hall, leading to the deaths of hundreds on both sides, the Stormlands are not the only region that has suffered in the fighting.''
''I have more men in the field than Tyrell….I have captured more of his castles….if you believe a tribute of gold and silver is the fairest way to put an end to this war…Lord Tyrell will be the one paying it…or I will be taking my own recompense from the vaults of Highgarden.'' Raymont said hotly.
Before Lianna could respond to that, Lord Tyrell was the one to speak, raising his arms slowly.
''I see this is a point of contention between us my Lord.'' He began before yelling to one of his servants, just another face among the crowd ''Get Lord Raymont a cup of the finest Arbor Gold, from my own cask.''
The Lord of the Stormlands watched Lord Tyrell suspiciously ''If you think I will be appeased with a cup of wine….''
''I simply wish to make something clear my Lord….all good negotiations involve a drink.'' Aumary Tyrell said as the servant poured Lord Baratheon a cup.
Raymont Baratheon gave Lord Tyrell another suspicious glance but drank deep from the cup.
''Did you enjoy it my Lord….how was the taste?'' Lord Tyrell asked with a smile.
Raymont Baratheon grunted ''For all your flaws you Reachmen know your wines…..its your one redeeming quality.''
Lord Tyrell laughed lightly before the smile slowly faded from his face ''I am glad you enjoyed it my Lord….now allow me to clarify something…in the spirit of honest negotiation….that is the only tribute you shall be receiving from me….I do hope you enjoyed it.''
Raymont Baratheon rose to his feet in an instant, his muscled hands gripping the table until they turned red ''You would make a mockery of me….I will not stand to be insulted…. I WILL NOT STAND IT.''
''Then sit.'' Lord Tyrell quipped, eliciting a laugh from his retainers.
Lianna was about to interject, things were going poorly and if she did not calm the situation soon then things could spiral out of control.
Lord Baratheon was about to say something, his face red with anger but as he opened his mouth to no doubt roar some obscenity at the Lord of Highgarden, all that came out was a thunderdome cough.
He coughed again, louder this time, attempting to clear his throat.
''Lord Baratheon….are you alright….Lord Raymont'' Lianna asked, slowly rising to her feet as the Baratheon retinue began rising from their chairs with concern.
Raymont Baratheon tried to answer, but all that came out was a croak as he gripped the table even harder, trying to open his mouth but all that came out was a wine colored trail of spittle as he continued hacking, his face as dark and purple as a grape.
Her husband Ronnel ran to his brother, pounding him hard on the back, but that only served to make the man cough louder, at this point Lianna could scarcely hear anything over the screams and shouts.
Her husband delivered another hard hit to his brothers back, hoping to dislodge whatever was caught in his throat, but Raymonts strength was fast leaving him and his legs gave out just as his brother hit him in the back, the tall man collapsed to the ground, his head slamming against the table hard with a thud.
He fell to the ground with a coughing groan and began convulsing, a frothy red spittle on his face like a beard.
After a long shuddering gasp the Lord of Storm's End grew still.
A terrible silence followed immediately as all those involved looked around, unsure of what was to come next, Lord Aumary Tyrell was still sitting, dumbfounded with his mouth slightly open, looking at the body.
It was the Queen who broke the silence.
She slowly rose to her feet and extended a hand, pointing at something…at someone.
''SEIZE HIM.'' She shouted, pointing a finger at the still sitting Lord Aumary Tyrell.
Her mothers Kingsguard had their swords drawn in an instant, as Raymont Baratheons men joined them as the Reachman, many of them still sitting in shock fumbled for their weapons. Lianna saw her husband Ronnel, still leaning over the corpse of his brother slowly close Raymonts Baratheons eyes, touch his amulet to the father and draw his sword, his Dragoncloaks close behind him.
Some of the Reachman drew their swords and attempted to fight their way to their Lord, while others realizing the hopelessness of the situation quickly threw theirs down.
As the clash of swords and steel rang out, Lianna tried to open her mouth to say something…anything to stop the fighting, but nothing came out.
Her husband advanced towards Aumary Tyrell, who was still sitting bewildered and roughly pulled him from his chair, the Lord of Highgarden still too stunned to speak, his face pale.
Lianna, her blood cold and hands slightly shaking from what she had just witnessed, slowly turned towards her mother who had returned to her seat, and for a single moment Lianna thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile on her mothers face.