Chapter Thirty-Two
…
Two Days Before The Start of the Tourney
Riverrun, Riverlands.
The sound of clashing swords echo at the once personal training grounds of the Lords of Riverrun. During the days of Hoster Tully when he's young, it had been a place of training, learning, practice. When Hoster however aged and Edmure became the new heir of Riverrun, the once lively training grounds were left unattended and barely used thanks to the lack of interest shown by Edmure. With Hoster being old and frail, the private grounds became empty and unattended with weeds growing on it.
Right now however it is restored and even improved. The once dirt filled place are redecorated and cemented, courtesy of the artisans of Rivendell. Instead of rickety chairs are now marble seats with the insignia of the fish of Riverrun. The empty training racks are filled with practice swords with Delianite engravings and the empty bins used by archers are filled with dummy arrows and real ones for practice.
The fields however have the greatest change. It's once lonely places are now full of people. Old and new master-at-arms are running around drilling recruits for the River Guard, the permanent garrison of Riverrun. Apparently Hoster after reviewing how Edmure was strong armed by his lords via parking the "holy army" outside Riverrun's walls was not the least pleased. Thus he sought to rectify that by making the River Guard. A five hundred strong garrison that would be a permanent fixture at Riverrun.
The castle is nigh impregnable and would be very hard to siege due to the natural river defenses that cover it and its five gates. Even a force that small can hold off an attack five times its size with little effort. Thus the rather brutish training.
It is Edmure however that had the biggest change. Right now he bashed with wild abandon at the shield of his opponent, making up with enthusiasm and raw power instead of skill. His opponent of course is Master Flourn, the castle's man-at-arms responsible for training him. It doesn't take long for the man to parry Edmure's attack and slash him with his own sword nicking the heir at the collarbone.
"That's dead! Try again! This time don't just bash the shield. Attack from different angles," teaches the man twirling his sword and getting ready in position.
The old Edmure Tully might have hissed and spluttered before throwing his sword at the ground protesting that he had more "fun" things to do. This new Edmure is different. He gets into ready position, preparing his sword before charging in once again.
If somebody asked Edmure what changed him, he would not himself know. All he remembers is that one moment, he is lounging at the chair of Riverrun debating inside his head whether he made the right choice of letting the Holy Army run off to finish of his sister when his father came running down the stairs looking ten years younger and healthier than anything Edmure had seen before. He remembered drinking wine after the rather harsh dressing down for his idiocy. After that, courage, and a thirst for being respected and desiring the admiration of his family and people stoking his very being.
For the life of him, Edmure had no idea why he was so content on simply lounging around neglecting his duties, left, right and center. He was the future Lord of Riverrun and his entire family would be depending on his skill as a lord. He knows of course how great a responsibility he would have as Lord of Riverrun one day, and the fate of his entire family hangs in the balance. He swore then and there that he would be someone that his father and family would be proud of.
That's why he marched readily to war despite being half-assed with a sword. That's why he accepted Delianah as a sister despite her status. She was a bastard, but she's a very successful bastard to boot and one that he can proudly add to the annals of their family's history. That's also why he trained every day despite being brow beaten at the ground every time.
The new energy drink his father had given him is making him full of fire and strength. He will earn his place and his title. First and foremost though he has to get past this Master-at-arms and avoid eating dirt at every round.
…..
Riverrun, Side Benches, Private Training Yard.
"Would you want some pizza Lady Delianah?"
"Oh that would be wonderful, thank you Cella," replies Delianah with a smile trying her damnest not to stare too much at the rather bare neck and shoulders of the Princess of the realm as she bents down to give the plate to her.
"If you have time later my lady, would you like a game of the generals with me? I'm afraid no one would fancy a match with me with Rae-Rae down at Osgiliath," she once more smiles that beautiful smile that seems to reflect the sun's radiance.
"O-of course Cella, I will be visiting you at the gardens soon. I hope you are ready to lose," replies Delianah in a challenging tone despite the butterflies gurgling at her stomach.
"Oh but my lady, I only play to win," the princess responds on something akin to a lioness purring making Delianah blush as she once more leans to her face that their nose are inches to one another.
The sudden choking sound followed by coughing breaks the rather near-close contact between the two as Hoster Tully at the side smacks his chest with the palm of his hand repeatedly.
"Uhmm, is he okay?" Myrcella blinks backing away from Delianah. "Should I call the Maester?"
"No, no, he's alright princess," Delianah quickly answers seeing the opening that her father is giving her. "I'll be right with you once we finish up here. Thank you for the pizza,"
"Pleasure, Delia," Myrcella replies with a faint smile looking once more at the coughing Tully before walking off. She's nearly at the stairs though before she turns back looking at Delianah. "And it's Cella Lady Delianah, okay?" she eye smiles before walking off with a rather not so innocent sway of her hips that Delianah's eyes remain focused on for a second or two.
The shoulder bump from Hoster snaps Delianah back to reality as she turns to glare at the rather knowing smirk being directed to her by her father.
"That girl likes you, a lot," said Lord of the Riverlands with an eye waggle making Delianah turn beet red at the teasing. Unlike the rest the
"We are just friends," she replies but she knows that it is at best a weak excuse. Delianah after all is no slouch when it comes to bedding women, left, right and centre before when she's Harry the Great.
Even though she has refrained from taking a peek into Cella's and Rhaenys' minds due to the simple fact that she cares for them. She doesn't need mind reading though to see the telltale signs of Cella "throwing the moves" at her. The young girl these past few days have been wearing more revealing dresses in her presence that she would have been caught dead on wearing before. She has been a little bit more touchy also, letting her usual touch linger every time she can get away with it. There's also the huskiness in her voice every time she teases Delianah.
"Keep telling yourself that," snorts Hoster earning him an unhappy glare from Delianah. "She's beautiful, a princess, rich and come from a rich family. Any pureblood back home would be running each other over for the opportunity you are being thrown at your face.
Delianah is the one to snort this time happily neglecting to mention that it would be in her best interests to stay far away from the politics of Myrcella's family. While she has a good working relationship with Tywin due to mutual respect, same cannot be for her father's side. As far as Delianah's opinion is concerned, the farther she is with being associated with the drunkard and professional whoremonger at the throne and his bitch of a queen who doesn't seem to understand that her relationship with her husband is the key into maintaining her power, the happier she'll be. Myrcella has shared enough facts for her to know that even she doesn't like her own family.
"She's too young," Delianah simply answers thanks to her father's rather inquisitive gaze. "And there would be no need for betrothal for me. I'm rich, I'm powerful and I have allies. What would be the purpose of my betrothal?"
"Love of course," the simple answer from Hoster catches Delianah off guard as she looks at the face of her father looking at her with a soft expression, the care lines of his face disappearing. "When I first married your mother, many of the Potter family allies disapproved," he chuckles as he looks forward to Edmure eating dirt again. "They have no issues with me marrying a half-blood, but a muggle born? Let's just say that Augusta Longbottom who is my godmother can talk for hours if she gets into a hissy fit," he sighs.
"Our family, well as you might already be aware, the Potter family is well off and light sided or not. It causes stir if the current heir marries one that is a muggle," he explains. "Long story short, I married your mother out of love not out of politics by the families or by any sort of gain,"
"But you did gain something though father," replies Delianah earning her a raised eyebrow from Hoster.
"Oh and what is it?"
Delianah simply smirks at him in victory. "Common sense, I doubt you successfully transformed yourself without some outside help. Especially with Sirius as your best friend,"
"True true, I admit she did "tame" us. The king of the forest, the dog of death and one well-behaved student suffering from his little furry problem every month," he laughs before they return watching Edmure being brained by the Master-at-Arms.
Delianah sighs before saying. "Look at it this way father. You might not have the chance to raise me as your son but you will have the chance right here, right now," she gestures to Edmure who rises up with an unnecessary battle cry before charging again.
"He's already old," Hoster simply replies.
"Yes, and you will have your work cut out for you father," Delianah stands dusting off her dress. "After all you might never have started him on this path without dosing him with a high amount of confidence enhancing potions mixed with a bad batch of liquid luck,"
Hoster winced at that. "I'm never the best at potions,"
"I know," Delianah replies. "Thankfully your overdosage makes those added traits a permanent fixture of his character. Personally I prefer this new Edmure rather than the old one,"
"SISTER I GOT HIM!" Edmure cheerfully shouts at her with a wave of his sword pointing to the small welt at the gloves of the Master-at-arms.
"YES YOU DO! GOOD JOB EDMURE!" Delianah shouts back before looking down at her still sitting father. "Good luck on trying to raise a younger version of a hyperactive Sirius Black father,"
She only laughs as Hoster groans before leaving to find Myrcella. Hopefully she'll be wearing something decent and not something tempting that would cause the hormones of Delianah to dance around.
…..
Red Keep, Private Solar of Queen Cersei
"Are you sure they will work?" Cersei asks looking at the red gem sitting innocently at her hand. It is the size of an egg but its inside looks like it contains a moving fire.
"Of course your grace," the red priest, Llaro replies with a bow. "It would prevent those with magic from doing anything to your mind. It can also protect you from curses of the heathen gods that rule this world. Any kind of magic and sorcery would dissipate when touched by this,"
"What about creatures?"
"Uhm, creatures your grace?" Llaro blinks in confusion making Cersei eye roll.
"Dimwitted priest,"
"Yes, creatures, animals made from foul magic and sorcery," she repeats heatedly.
"Of course your grace, any foul being made from magic would be scorched if they touch you while you are wearing this,"
"Good," Cersei simply replies before pinning the gem on her corset.
"Uhmm, your grace the payment," the priest reminds nervously earning him a disapproving look from Cersei.
"I have forwarded the gold to your temple priest. Now leave me be!" the man cannot be out faster as he almost trips on his own feet.
"Simpleton," Cersei hisses beneath her breathe before checking herself out in the mirror again with her new ornament.
"Yes, this would do nicely," she thinks to herself before turning back to her preparation on leaving the Red Keep. There is no way in Seven Hells that she is going to the land of the tree huggers and mud worshippers without some healthy divine protection of her own.
Unlike some after all, Cersei has a healthy dose of respect for the supernatural.
…
Docks of Former House Mooton, Yi Ti Fleet
"Mah, mah. I'm not impressed. Surely a lady as famous as the Lady Delianah would have better harbors for her territory right Bao Ka?" the chubby Emperor of Yi Ti comments as he looks disapprovingly at the ramshackle territory of a town that is House Mooton.
"She just won a war Your Majesty and this land is newly annexed territory. Word is majority of her construction efforts both in manpower and wealth are directed at the White City of Osgiliath where the tourney would be held," his prime minister replies with a bow.
"Now that just won't do Bao Ka," Ling Han unhappily replies before sniffing in disgust as he can smell shit in the ground. "The Lady Delianah is a well-known friend of our Empire. Essentially our relationship with her here will reflect in all of Yi Ti. What would people say about us if we do not take care of our friends?"
"That would be a poor taste for the rumors your majesty," his Prime Minister replies with a bow.
"It's decided. Send word to my regent back home through one of the ships. Get at least a million, no too little, three million peasants from the provinces and send them here. They would serve as serfs for the Lady Delianah. Let it be known that the Emperor of Yi Ti, me Ling Han does not look after his friends,"
"T-three million your majesty?" asks the blinking Prime Minister.
"Yes," Ling Han replies with a nod sending his heavy jowls jiggling. "Feed them and nourish them well along the way here. I would not want the Lady to be thinking we are giving him beggars and dying animals,"
"That would take a lot of work your majesty," points out the Prime Minister.
"Then they better get moving. I want the peasants ready to be transported the moment I get back home,"
"O-of course your majesty," the man bows before scurrying off to obey his orders.
Ling Han is only thirty-three years old but he looks more like fifty due to his obesity. He has a double chin and the Emperor's red robes of Yi Ti are personally tailored to fit his body. His hair is balding and only has a small tuft remaining at the top. All in all, he is terribly lacking when it comes to the looks department.
Like his father before him, Ling Han is born into station as the next ruler of Yi Ti. While his body and face leaves much to be desired; his mind however is another matter. With the Kingdom of Goseon only a mile away, and the Empire of Han Zo with their skillful Arashis, the threat to Yi Ti is high. This is why he established the long route trade with Westeros to Delianah's small kingdom. Yi Ti is always in dire need of food to support its large armies. It is a fine balance to cater to the desires of both the peasantry and the nobles of his Empire while continuing the centuries' old war. That's why rice and spices is always in high demand. It is also in his best interest to keep Delianah happy lest she bail from their agreement. Rice after all is becoming a known commodity that very few has an inkling to grow. He has to give props to the Dame of Rivendell at that. She guards her secrets well.
He is here however to celebrate a "tourney" whatever that is. It is apparently to commemorate the victory of Delianah against the Faith, a religion of Westeros that earned her new lands and territories. Now he personally doesn't care about which religion of Westeros fight with whom. What he cares however is the Lady's viewpoint of him as a friend and an ally. Of course
As the hundred ships of Yi Ti makes port on the docks of Mooton, Emperor Ling Han wonders if his gift of worth a kingdom that he brought with him would be enough to make Delianah more inclined to the partnership of their nations.
….
The Twins, Riverrun
"They're letting us stay…..for free?" asks a very confused Eddard Stark to Domeric Bolton who simply nods.
"Yes Lord Stark. By order of the King all from the North who would be attending the Tourney would have free passage at the Twins," replies the young lad.
"That is wonderful Ned!" booms the Greatjon overenthusiastic Umber. "That must have grilled the old Frey,"
"Yes, yes it does Lord Umber," replies the young Bolton with a wry smirk.
"Alright, we move out. We pay our respects to Lord Frey before we head South!" Ned calls out loudly making the rest of the Northern Lords with him to cheer at the good news. All of them after all brought extra coin to pay for Lord Frey's toll as usual.
As far As Ned can see, this is probably the first time that so many Northern Lords are heading South. Thanks to the trade deals with Rivendell that had kept them fed last winter, many of the Northern Lords are rather more accepting of the Bastard Tully. It helps that she is a worshipper of the Old Gods also. Don't get him wrong, many of the Northeners still despite anything related to the South. They are just rather accepting of the Bastard Tully since she's different than the rest of the pricks as far as they are concerned.
This tourney of hers is also a thing of interest to many. Not only are the prizes big, it is different than any tourney anyone has ever seen according to rumors. There's also Osgiliath, the White City, the miracle city finished in barely three months and (according to rumors again), the grandest city of Westeros. Suffice it to say that despite the distrust of the Northeners, a fair number are curious enough to come with him down South for one or so reasons.
There are the Umbers, Karstarks, Manderlys, Glovers, Forresters, Whitehills, and of course the Starks. Eddard does not fail also on noticing that many of said families also have brought their sons with them. They are really subtle on being unsubtle. Now that the Bastard of Tully has achievement after achievement to her name, the Lords are considering that she would be a worthy bride after all. Beautiful, rich, powerful, and most importantly…..single.
Eddard is not stupid though. He might be the second son but he recognizes enough from the political climate that short of a Royal Wedding or (if miraculously) a son of a Lord Paramount with a lot of things and promises attached; it would be next to impossible to propose a betrothal to the Lady of Rivendell.
That's why he brought the entirety of his family minus little Bran and Arya who have to be left behind at Winterfell since they are so small. The rest of them however are coming including Jon and Catelyn this time. Suffice it to say that the reason why he brought Jon even though his worries about Robert recognizing him as the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, is because of the simple fact that he needs someone to keep an eye on Robb with so many Lords gathering. Jon is a good lad after all with a level head and could accompany Robb when he's not around. Last time an heir of the North got lost in a tourney, well, it ended with a pregnant Ashara Dayne.
As for Catelyn, Ned brought her with him since she wants to see her family. Apparently news have trickled into Winterfell that Edmure and Hoster alongside her uncle Brynden have reconciled with Delianah. She is less than pleased of course and have insisted on coming to "set things straight" within the family of hers.
Ned wants to sigh at that. Normally he would try to stop Catelyn from doing something that she might regret but she's almost frothing at the mouth in anger when she received the news that Ned left her be. Let Hoster deal with her this time while he keeps an eye on Jon. With Catelyn so focused on hating her bastard sister, her usual attentions to Jon have been close to non-existent and the lad has a few weeks of peace without being insulted.
Ned while tired with all the drama in his family personally wonders though in no small amount of interest the things he would discover at the tourney.
…
Reach, King's Road
"You should stop frowning brother, it would make you look unfavorable for the ladies," Garlan Tyrell teases at his older brother who scowls inside his wheelhouse.
"I'm trapped in this damned wheelhouse. I would look ridiculous and unmanly compared to everyone else who is riding a horse," hisses Willas Tyrell not for the last time cursing his bad leg that prevents him from riding a stallion.
"Look at the bright side brother. There is a reason why grandmother dressed you with enough bling and Delianite to blind all ladies' eyes," teases Loras. "Imagine how unseeing they will be when you stepped down from the wheelhouse of-OKAY! OKAY! Stop throwing peanuts at me you damned sensitive idiot!" laughs Loras as he pulls away with his horse the peanut coverings that serve as Loras' ammunition.
Willas Tyrell grumbles to himself as he lies down on the comfortable cushions of the wheelhouse he is in. The Reach of course supported the Faith due to the simple fact that other than any refusal would anger a lot of their bannermen, it is unwise to support the losing side. Who in the world would expect that a single House, a Riverlander at that would not only survive but even win with the entirety of the Faith against her.
That's why Willas is here. He needs to see this Lady Delianah personally and make sure that she would hold no animosity with House Tyrell. He has been researching things about her after she got his attention by standing against the Faith. Willas has to admit that he's impressed. Founder of Delianite, Builder of Rivendell, Brightest woman in the land, Pragmatic and courageous, the only female knight in existence. She would have made a good wife.
The only hiccup is she's a former bastard.
…
Narrow Sea
Oberyn admits that he loves the longboats of Rivendell. While a lot smaller compared to the longboats used by the Ironborn, they are sturdier and helluva lot faster. It also contrasts well with his wanderlust.
While the rest of Dorne's party have taken the long Kingsroad in order to attend the Great Tourney, Oberyn has taken a longboat that they bought before with great price from a merchant that purchased it from Rivendell instead to go via the waves with his brother's son, Quentyn Martell to give the lad some "worldly experience"
Said worldly experience of course is the young man's first time facing a squall at the Narrow Sea.
"Hold your oars up! Heave!" Captain Hota's voice carries even through the thunder of the skies as the longboat rides through the giant waves.
"Can we see the coast?! Can we see the Hightower's guiding fire?!" asks a terribly panicky Quentyn Martell looking like a drowned rat.
"I see nothing but the wind and the rain!" booms Oberyn as anther lightning bolt pierces the sky.
"No fire, no stars by which to navigate! We are lost uncle! Lost to the sea!" his young nephew wails.
Oberyn simply grins as he stands at the prow remembering the words of a sailor he met once before in his journeys. Perfect time to imitate.
"The sea's my mother nephew! She'll never take me back to her murky womb!"
"WhAT THE FUCK!? YOU'RE INSANE UNCCCCCLLLLLLLLEEE!" Quentyn's panicked cry echoes as the boat takes a steep nose dive through the back of a large wave before cresting again to another wave thanks to the efforts of the row men.
"The storm has no end Uncle! " he cries out once more. "I don't wanna die yet!"
Oberyn can't help the mad cackle that leaves his lips. "This is no earthly storm nephew! That's for sure. Yet this Demon's Tempest would not hold us out! For we are UNBOWED! UNBENT! UNBROKEN!"
"OBERYN! OBERYN! OBERYN!" the forty-eight rowers cheer in response to his call.
"Who wants to live?!"
"WE DO!"
"Then pull your oars men! Pull like your very lives depend on it! For Dorne! For glory! For gold!" Oberyn's mad cackle could be heard followed by the thread of curses from Quentyn as the boat sails through another giant wave.
…..
Author's Note: thanks for the support fellow travelers of Westeros. Hope ya like this chapter.
….
Omake: Delianah's Scathach Outfit (Refer to "Scathach by jacky5493 at DeviantArt" as source)
"Hmm this will do," Delianah comments more to herself quite pleased with her outfit. "Good job Master Halys," she smiles at the tailor who bows before excusing herself with her ladies.
Delianah personally hates dresses. She does not approve of them. After all she can't fight or move freely and it goes against her mental state thanks to her previous life about wearing dresses. Thus this outfit. She has no idea what prompted her to make this. All she knows is that its design came from when she's dreaming and thus she has it made by her tailors from Rivendell.
It is basically a transparent violet silk body glove that covers everything neck down. A darker violet lingerie night gown is worn outside the body glove bound together by silken dark violet lines. It covers her breasts but totally shows the entirety of everything else as it stretches to her arms and to her hips. An outer violet underwear is also worn to hide her privates. Atop her head is a tiara of black that circles on her hair.
"Time to show this then to the girls," she happily says to herself before walking unto the Guest Solar where she knows Rhaenys, Amelia, Yasmina and Myrcella would be lounging since it's their break time.
With a bang, she pushes the door open.
"Surprise!" she shouts out loud posing with a hand at her hips as she looks at the four pairs of eyes. "What do you think of my outfit?"
The result is immediate. Amelia drooled spilling the ink pot which she is refilling as she became still like a statue. A fountain of blood erupts from Myrcella's nose before crashing on the ground in a dead faint. Rhaenys' eyes opened as wide as dinner plates her mouthing pausing in an O formation. The ghost of Ser Arthur Dayne throws itself from nearest window to hide his ghostly raging boner. Yasmina however simply blinks before casually also taking off her clothes.
"What are you doing?!" asks a terrible confused Delianah who is totally caught by surprise of the reactions of her friends and confidants.
Her concubine simply cocks her head to the side as if not understanding her. "You planning to bed us all right Lady Delianah? That's why you're wearing that"
Delianah is struck dumb by her words as she opens and closes her mouth totally not understanding her. She is however surprised when someone yanks her off balance sending her crashing to the sofa back first.
"Mine! Mine! You are mine!" Myrcella's voice is half-crazed as she crawls all over Delianah's form, her eyes bugging out of her skull drooling before it looks at her underwear.
"Wait! Wait! Cella! Cella! CELLLAAAAA!"
With a gasp Delianah wakes up from her sleep realizing that she is still at her bed in Rivendell alone at her room.
With a sigh she magically pulls to her the pitcher of Butterbeer at her dresser.
"That is one weird dream," she thinks to herself taking a sip of the heavenly brew.
Inside her dresser, the Resurrection Stone finally got the template for the Cloak of Invisibility which is its pair. Slowly the attire from her dreams start to slowly appear inside her dresser.
…..
Hehehehehe Cause I'm Evil XD
Next Chapter Guys is the opening of the Tourney. Still waiting for someone to take on the Challenge for the lyrics or words of a Song for Delianah and Rivendell.