Chapter Thirty-Five
….
The Dome, Osgiliath
Delianah loves parties, period. Back in the day in her tenure as a student member of House Gryfiindor, celebrations are normal. It is practically something unavoidable especially when you have someone like Fred and George Weasley as members of your House. They tend to celebrate on the littlest of things, finding whatever reason to make explosions and loud noises.
Of course when is the Dark Lord Murderer and on his way to being The Great. Parties of fun are extremely rare. It is pretty hard to enjoy life after all when grudging families of the dark tossers are aiming on separating your head form your body. Sure there are party invitations, but those are formal ones and mostly for image and show.
Her work before leaves little time to meet family members and friends. Thus she treasures such little memories of moments when she's home and there's the presence of a celebration to savour. In fact if she's going to be even more brutally honest with herself, she treasures such moments in her previous life.
As Delianah Tilly, celebrations become something that she adjusts herself to. After all she is the Lady of Rivendell, former Harrenhal; the infamous Dame of Westeros leading armies against her people's enemies, slayer of assassins and owner of the world's largest farms (The Reach not included since the majority of their forms are divided to the different Houses that swore allegiant to House Tyrell).
Every single time she visits guilds, homesteads, towns and smaller villages, people do their best to accommodate her. That means good food, a celebration (a holiday if she gives to them free rein), and the best commodities that her hosts can provide. In fact if becomes a small vacation for any area of Rivendell that she tends to plant her feet on.
Parties are a regular for her these days.
This celebration though, this celebration is different. The night before the official start of the tourney for the sake of the royal visitors is grander than anything of Rivendell's usual fair. Food is aplenty with varieties of every kind ranging from the spicy cuisine of the Eastern People's to the more cold but lavish plating of the Northeners. This is particularly planned to avoid grumblings by the visitors due to food preference. Suffice it to say that it is a lot of work for Osgiliath's cooks and small folk, plus it cost a lot. Money however is never an issue personally for Delianah (Seeing that the presence of a Sorcerer's Stone is there).
Currently however Delianah is sipping daintily on a cup of serving tea dressed in her usual "Phoenix armor" (much to her chagrin), leaning on a pillar (to avoid people ogling her bare back)watching the guests mingle around talking with one another or sucking up to the visiting Royal Family minus one at the raised center of the Dome. Robert is already drunk this early from Firewhiskey and is attempting to fondle anyone with an ass (boys not included). Cersei is scowling heavily to that and for good reason. In his inebriated state, Robert after all cannot distinguish women from those who are married to those who are not resulting to many angry mutterings from offended husbands, brothers and sisters of the victimized houses' lady. It is practically political suicide, but Happy Fatty can care less as long as the ass he touches is firm.
Delianah is taking a break from all the talking and "negotiating" that is being subjected to. She has to admit that she is already having a migraine. Her victory against the Faith has literally cemented her reputation and despite their different views about bastardry, many of the minor lords wants a piece of her. Plus there's also the veritable tide of suitors paraded in front of her; from lovestruck knights to more cowardly nobles. Others simply want a touch of her from the dance floor and others are more bold. Delianah happily steps on their toes then. The golden boot of the Phoenix armor is perfectly suited for it.
Delianah has to admit though that she is already having a migraine this early. Speaking with a ll these snakes and liars that play the field of politics is like diving to a water full of sharks and hoping not to get bit which is practically impossible.
So far it has been good though. Delianah manages to secure trade and alliance deals enough with many of the minor houses with some of her new goods since Yi Ti still has a monopoly of the seventy percent of the Rice and Spices of Rivendell. The minor houses are apparently enthralled by her new product which is a big hit, Black Obsidian Mirrors. Freshly created by the craftsmen of Osgiliath from the Obsidian pieces shipped from Dragonstone, they are a wonder. Polished well and with a lot of effort and processing, they are a lot cheaper from the usual glass makers from Essos. The various different tools she also presents from plows, of farming, to stationary nets for fishing to the dozen or so measuring and building tools for crafts and building, salt trade from Sea Dragon Point, the different whiskeys and specialized brews, Delianah manages enough trade and deals that she is sure that Amelia would shout her ears off form the amount of paperwork she is subjecting her to.
Alliances after all are contracts, and contracts mean someone need s to do them which falls to the unhappy Castellan's set of duties. Delianah is not dumb however. Most of the Alliances are simply peace treaties and other than the North and the Tully's, Delianah's position remains neutral. The last thing that Delianah wants is for Rivendell to be involved into the petty disputes of the other Houses of Westeros.
She once more checks Myrcella sitting on a raised dais with her guards around her. She initially thinks that the golden princess would want to sit with her parents, however color her surprised when she vehemently refused, stating that she would not want to be anywhere near them. Delianah of course acquiesces to her demand (the small timid girl is growing, she has to admit).Her current spacing makes the princess afe from being disturbed the gathered Lords and Ladies around. In full view but with hard access, it would be political suicide in doing so (even for a Lord Paramount) since it would be like a flare to everyone that they deem themselves high enough compared to the orders to be so brave or so stupid. So far as Delinah predicts, no one save on Tywin Lannister to congratulate his granddaughter has done so.
As far as the Old Lion of the Rock is concerned, "the Lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the Sheep". He can care less about their muttering behind his back.
Delianah personally designed that Myrcella be seen and not be "talked" after all. Myrcella might have gone far but she is in no way ready to play the Game of Thrones that she would be subjected to if the nobles are given free rein. It is not wrong for the monarch of a country to take such measures to be protected after all. In fact it would be common sense for assassins are always present in this time and age. Delianah can even make the excuse of "Dragon Loyalists" to Robert once she questions Myrcella's distance from them. Everyone here understands that and would not question such actions. Thus it gives Delianah the reasoning she wants and at the same time fulfill the requirements of courtesy for a royal to be present during the feast for the guests/
Delianah's got a nagging feeling though that even though Myrcella is a royal, and one also credited to the preparation and the success of the tourney. The whispers around the room reported to her by an Unseen One indicates that the leaders and representatives hold little to zero regard for the princess and instead discuss Delinah as if she's the Royal and not Myrcella. The last thing that Delianah wants is to grab Myrcella's honor away from her.
"Penny for your thoughts, my lady?" a sharp but wheezing voice snaps Delianah from her musings nearly making her jump in wariness. As it is though, she blinks at the man wearing a red robe filled with ornaments of gold and diamond. She does not miss that also a large part of his "decorations" are Delianite in form. A golden cup is at his hand. Atop his head is a golden crown filled with even more diamonds. It is plenty obvious to know who this is of course since only one nation has a penchant for that amount of bling.
"Emperor Ling Han, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," says Delinah with a slight incline of her head only seeing that the Emperor is not her king.
"And I you, You're much more beautiful than the rumors say even for your young age. I'm glad my gift suits you very well," he chuckles eyeing the gleaming bare back of the Dame who shifts uncomfortable to keep that part of her body out of sight.
"Finally managed to get away from all the riff-raff I see?"
Delianah only blinks before his word registers earning her a chuckle from the Empror of Yi Ti. "You're not the only ones besieged by the representatives and rulers of these small kingdoms. Trust me, I know how tiring it is,"
"I sympathize with your plight Emperor Ling Han," Delianah genially responds making the Emperor in front of her giving her a knowing look.
"You know the game then? Courteous and polite. I'm impressed. I have to admit that I do not expect Rivendell as it is,"
"Straight to the point Emperor?" Delianah asks feeling daring. So far all throughout the night no one has been direct at her since the start of the feast. It is a surprise that the Emperor of Yi Ti out of everyone would act so…non-political.
"I find it more pleasant and less bothersome, plus it won't be a waste of my time if I am direct in my words and opinions. Won't you agree Lady Delianah?"
"I admit, it is refreshing for a change from all the flowery words and snide comments I have been hearing all night,"shrugs the Dame taking a sip on her own cider. "So what can I do for you Emperor Ling Han? I believe that you have not sought me out only for my good looks,"
"Right in that one, may I, " he gestures to the space beside her.
Delianah simply shrugs giving space to the Emperor who leans also on the pillar, his heavy weight sagging a bit. "She does not fail to notice that the other Yi Ti delegates are forming a cordon around them preventing anyone else from approaching or overhearing their conversation.
"I'm going straight to the point Lady Delianah, the main reason as to why I'm here is to see personally how Rivendell fares and of course to satisfy my curiosity about you. It is not everyday after all that you hear that the small House that is providing almost fifteen percent of your food supply is rising to power in such a very short amount of time. I want to meet the person who brought a kingdom with a kingdom to life. Such feats would normally take a decade or so to achieve, yet you. You succeeded in less than a few years. How so?"
"You do not truly expect me to answer that question, do you Emperor?" replies Deliamah with a smirk making the Emperor of Yi Ti to raise his glass to her.
"No I do not. At least though I got the measure of you now by talking to you; I think Yi Ti would benefit having you as a long term ally,"
"I believe there's a catch there?" asks Delianah raising an elegant eyebrow at the man who gives off a mock hurt expression.
"What makes you think there's a catch there my dear lady? We might simply be looking out for you in this great game of ours,"
"I thought we agreed to be forward with one another Emperor Ling Han. So what's the catch? I'm tell you already, if it's a marriage proposal, the answer is simply, no,"
"Interesting," the Emeperor beside her chuckles. "Word of your infamous less than stellar opnion of marriage arrangements are true after all. No, no, I would not propose another marriage proposal to you my lady. I would rather be happy if I can add another concubine to you for-,"
"Well, well, if it isn't old gold bright and shining trying to seduce another country to fall under the great rule and supervision of Yi Ti,"
Delianah blinks as she turns her attention to a tall man built like a whipcord dressed in a battle kimono and a samurai sword at his waist. His head is at a top knot and a small goatee twirls at his chin. He is walking side by side with another Asian looking man, this time wearing a chiton with golden weavings at the side and a blue sash with the pin of a three legged bird of prey at his shoulder. Delianah of course knows who they are immediately seeing that she's the one who addressed their letters to them. Shogun Hanzo Tokigawa of Nihon Ja and King Yin Po of Groguryo, the rivals of Yi Ti and kicking Yi Ti's Navy and army left , right and center. They are the reason why Yi Ti has zero expansion for almost four centuries.
"And if it aren't the brutes from the east," answers Ling Han snidely, his former cool and warm demeanor vanishing faster than ice on fire and replaced by a frosty smile. "Still not used on wearing manly robes I see,"
"The proud citizens of Nihon Ja take great pride in our manner of clothing. No matter the snide comments of barbaric lazy assholes from the West of our sea," answers the Nihon Jan king with a side sneer.
"Now, now we are all friends here in this tourney. The purpose of this tourney after all is to make new friends and alliances, not enemies," Yin Po pacifyingly chides at the two rulers glaring daggers at one another before turning his attention to Delianah. He smirks though seeing that the Lady of Rivendell chooses wisely to step slowly away to avoid the incoming fight. The rivalry between Nihon Ja and Yi Ti are infamous even in this far seas.
"Lady Delianah, your beauty truly humbles me tonight. I am Yin Po of Groguryo, but I am sure you already know that," he says bowing to her.
Delianah admits that if not for her passive skill in the mind arts, she might have been fooled by the kindly demeanor that the ruler of Groguryo is doing. Even the barest of touching of his mind makes her aware of the scheming bastard behind the good natured exterior. She cannot blame him though. The tension between Yi Ti, Nihon Ja and Groguryo has always been tense. The Eastern nations have always been at war with one another one way or another throughout the years. It must be mind numbing to be allied with a traditional enemy while facing a larger one. The threat of being betrayed is always high. The man however is as sly as snakes go and must never be taken at face value.
"Welcome to Rivendell King Yin Po. I do hope that your stay would be accommodating," Delianah replies officially with a nod.
The man simply sighs twirling the wine cup at his hands before looking at her. "It's alright my lady, maybe a little bit too cold for my taste but what can I say, these old bones of mine are not as warm as they used to be,"
"Of course King Yin Po,"
"Speaking of which, I have a proposition that if you won't mind-,"
"YOUUU DAAARE!" the booming voice of Hanzo behind them nearly makes Delianah jump in surprise and Yin Po to sigh tiredly.
"Looks like we have to continue our conversation for later Lady Delianah; I have to control my rather hot tempred friend lest he causes a brawl here inside,"
"Of course your highness," Delianah nods courteously in reply.
"My lady," the King of Groguryo bows before walking towards the Shogun of Nihon Ja who looks only a second away from assaulting the Emperor of Yi Ti with his katana.
Deciding that anymore politicking would give her a headache, Delianah walks towards the dais of Myrcella smiling at the gathered people below, nobles, rulers, and representatives who notices her. Answering with polite tones and gestures, Delianah takes the usual two minute walk which turns out into a full blow twenty minutes as she crosses the wide hall through the throng of well-wishers plus admierers and finally manages to walk up the staircase of the dais to where Myrcella is sitting munching a Happy Burger with ham, pepperoni and cheese.
Delianah rolls her eyes at that.
"Of all the things that you might eat in this feast; you brought along a takeout from one of the tsalls outside," she amusedly comments as she sits on the throne beside Myrcella's,"
"Immfff….likef itf," the Princess Royal answers, her voice muffling thanks to the food inside her mouth.
"Bless you Cella and please do take care of your manners," answers Delianah with a bright smile unlike the fake ones she presents to the guests below.
Finding herself puckish, she leans to the Death Dealer standing ready at the side of Myrcella's throne. "I'll have some like that of the Crown Princess,"
"Yes your holiness," he bows ignoring the rolling of Delianah's eyes at the address.
"Not fair! He's going to put his paws on my stash,"protests Myrcella gulping down her food glaring at Delianah with a small pout.
Delianah can't help but find it adorable.
"I can have some of them delivered at Rivendell if you learn how to share dear Cella," Delianah winks at her receiving the food from the returning Death Dealker with a small word of: "thanks"
"Oh alright but only because I like you," the beautiful blonde replies making Delianah chuckle as she takes a bite out of her own Happy Burger.
"So Lady Delianah, with all the politicking I've seen you doing down below, am I right to assume that everyone here can finally come up for some air and witness the world at peace?" asks Myrcella making Delianah snort through her meal before swallowing.
"We can all agree Cella that we will have a measure of peace for a while after this tourney. Everyone so far wants to make friends with us thanks to our victory. There also trade deals and such, not to mention the countless marriage proposals that I am receiving," she answers.
"Am I right to assume that you have rejected all of said marriage proposals?" asks Myrcella teasingly.
Despite the fun tone and matter of questioning of the Golden Princess, Delinah does not miss the small edge at her voice though.
"Your jealousy is so cute Cella,"
It is not that hard to know that the little princess is worried and afraid that she might have answered: "yes". If not for their public setting, Delianah might have glomped her in their usual casual friendly manner that would make Cella blush and Delianah feel all tingly.
"Hmm….time to reassure miss little jealous that I am not yet off the market,"
"Of course, we have no need for a marriage alliance right now. Rivendell is powerful and wealthy as it is and the last thing we need is someone stepping in our internal affairs and crashing our balance and equilibrium," she says with a reassuring smile.
"Th-that's good Lady Delianah. I'm telling you that the Lady Amelia would not appreciate the paperwork that she would have if you agreed to any marriage proposals. The amount of work she will have without warning? Not worth it my lady," says yrcella with a delicate wave of her hand.
Delianah has to give it to Myrcella's acting skills. If not for the small fact that she's already highly familiar and hyper aware of Myrcella's attitude and quirks, she might have also believed the nonlachant way of talking of the Pirincess Royal. It doesn't need a master of the mind arts to see that Myrcella is relieved thanks to her answer.
For the life of her Delianah does not know why she doesn't turn down the princess this early. In terms of age, she is mentally too old for the Golden Princess. The morality cultivated and grown for many years back home are warring literally with her the current hormones of her new life. Plus there's also the fact that apparently same gender attraction is not as accepted here in this world compared to the more liberated one where she lives as Harry Potter the Great back then. Personally Delianah herself with all her experience has no idea how to deal with this. While the pragmatic part of her is telling her to let go, another (large) part of her relishes the simple fact that the Princess Royal considers her a potential candidate for her affections. There's also the plus side that Myrcella's feelings, Delianah knows are not fake or political either. As said before, even in this new body, Delianah is straight as a board when it comes to her…desires.
It is time to change the topic though to something that both of them are comfortable in discussing without getting awkward.
"I do manage to talk to some interesting people other than the usual nobles and ladies of Westeros," Delianah says.
She can almost feel the relief emanating from Myrcella at the sudden change of subject.
"Really, who?"
"Emperor Ling Han of Yi Ti, Hanzo Tokigawa of Nihon Ja and Yin Po of Groguryo, Cella" answers Delianah taking another bite out of her food.
"Ouch," Myrcella's face winces at her answer. "Together?"
"Together," she nods in affirmation.
"That's not good, those three nations rulers' never agree in anything throughout history together," says the Princess Royal of Westeros with a shake of her head. "The animosity between them at the Eastern part of the world is legendary,"
"That's an understatement Cella," Delianah snorts. "Ling Han and Hanzo look ready to come to blows. In fact the only reason I think that the Nihon Jan Shogun not brain the Emperor of Yi Ti directly is because of the two rather large muscled Eunuch Bodyguards he has at his back,"
"That would not have deterred Hanzo at all," points out Myrcella. "Nihon Jan are quite prickly when it comes to insults in their tradition and honor,"
"And Yin Po is there to keep the peace. At least he has enough sense not to cause an international incident in the case of Nihon Ja's Shogun and Yi Ti's Emperor duking it out on Tourney Feast Ceremony with their fists," Delianah adds with a smirk.
Myrcella chuckles at the image it paints. It is quite known after all that the current Emperor of Groguryo, also known as the more level headed of his predecessors can stop a rampaging bully by simply talking it down.
"You haven't met Yun Sin-Shun?" she asks though after she calms down making Delianah raise an eyebrow at her.
"Yun Sin Shun?" the infamous Groguryo naval commander and adopted brother of Yin Po? No, I do not have the pleasure to meet him yet Cella," she answers.
"I see," Myrcella leans on her comfortable raised chair. "Knowing him, he would be the more diplomatic of Groguryo's retinue and would probably be talking all over the place trying to create connections for his country with the rest of the nations here,"
"Basically everything that Yin Po would be doing if he's not so busy stopping Hanzo from ripping off Ling Han's head off his shoulders," points out Delinah making the two of them giggle. This goes on with both staying silent as they simply enjoy yeach other's presence and company. Myrcella however is the first to break the silence as she looks at Delianah questioningly.
"Other than our friends from the East Delia, who are our more notable guests tonight on this feast?" she asks.
"Well if you compare rivalry of power and riches then I might say in the current political world then Braavos against the Bastard Daughters of Valyria, Cella," answers Delianah remembering the reports that the trading ships from the Iron Bank bring when they pick up Delianite. "Those two groups probably are the most opposite when it comes to the territories of Essos other than the Three Daughters. They have the most wealth after all and backed by other countries or entities. Plus they don't also agree with one another cultural wise,"
"To be clearer it's more of their beliefs," answers Delianah. "Braavos abhors slavery which is basically the center point and the supporting stone to that of the Bastard Daughters of Valyria. Ever since then these two have disagreed with one another. Of course they are stuck in a deadlock ever since. Braavos after all is where the Iron Bank Headquarters can be found and only a fool would dare challenge the might of such an organization. Meanwhile the Bastard Daughters of Valyria while traditional enemies are customers of the Iron Bank and they have the wealth and the support needed to keep themselves afloat that would draw out a war against Braavos in the event that hostilities blow. A drawn out war is bad for the Iron Bank's investments thus. Battles after all cost gold with little to no profit. Thus the deadlock,"
"Aren't the representatives of Braavos and the Free Cities part of the attendees for this tourney. Are they down there below?" Myrcella looks on curiously down at the dais where she and Delianah are sitting.
Fortunately for Delianah, she is saved from pinpointing (among the entirety of the crowd) the reps of the two superpowers in Essos. A booming laugh however comes from below echoing quite rather loudly in the entirety of the Hall. Of course all eye turn towards the man standing at the table deck in green and silver doublet with a sash of blue. Currently however his attire is rather stained with wine and it does not take a genius to see that the younger brother of Robert is rather drunk.
What makes Delianah sweatdrop mentally with a large part of her being concerned is because the rather happy drunk is standing on a chair and shouting at the top of his lungs while holding a cup of whatever he is drinking.
"I SAY THAT MY DEAR KNIGHT OF THE ROSES, SER LORAAS WILL WIN THE JOUST TOMORROW!" he booms loudly earning himself cheers from the rather large amount of Reachers and Stormlanders at the crowd.
It does not take long to find the reason why the Lord of Storm's End is being too out of it. A rather handsome man dressed in yellow and orange silks with gold trimmings and a rather shaved chin stands up wobbling a table away from the groggy man balancing on a chair. Delianah also knows who he is, for only one moron from South of Westeros would dare drink that much in a formal event (minus King Fatty at the throne).
"I disagree," Oberyn Martell drawls, his black hair all over the place, his footsteps uneven even as his hands struggle to repair his hairdo. "I say that our bodyguard dear Areo Hota will win the competition that your flower is participating in!" behind him Delianah can see his older brother seated while covering his face with his hands.
"WANT TO BET ON IT YOU SLIMY SNAKE?! A THOUSAND GOLD DRAGONS SAYING THAT OUR MAN, OR ANY REACHER OR STORMLANDER BEAT THIS DESERT WORM YOU ARESO PROUD OF!"
"A thousand dragons? Preposterous!" Doran Martell finally responds unable to keep his cool any longer. "You can buy an entire fleet with that amount of money,"
"CHICKENING OUT? I SAY THAT ARBOR GOLD IS TOO MUCH FOR DORNISH BELLIES!" the brother of the king's words are encouraged by the hubbub of laughter from the rest of his retinue leaving behind a spluttering Doran Martell who is failing to form words as his face reddens in anger and outrage.
Before he can utter any sort of response however, another Reachman stands up raising his glass to the air. "THE GODS THEMSELVES ARE SUPPORTING THE REACH AYE?!"
"AYE!" everyone else choruses at that.
Apparently that is the most that Oberyn Martell can stomach in insult from their traditional enemies as he slams his hand on the table with a powerful smack sending utensils airborne for a second or two as he points a finger at Renly Baratheon and the Reachman at his side.
"Well the Faith may support the Reach, but the Old gods do not. You're one!" he booms making this time the Dornish side (with a rather large amount of supporters from the Rivendellians and Northeners) cheer as they holler at his words.
"At least they're having fun Lady Delianah," comments Myrcella beside her who apparently succeeded in intertwining their fingers.
"Yes, Cella, yes they are," sighs Delianah not making any effort to remove her touch as she focuses her attention down below. She can't help but wonder how long it will take before someone down there causes an incident by punching someone's light out.
….
Side Hall, Osgiliath
"Father, is that you?" Catelyn can't believe her eyes as she stares in amazement at her parent. Her father, the one who is reported to be ill due to old age and can barely make it down to the Welcoming Halls of Riverrun is looking tall and handsome like a fine wine. In fact despite his aging looks, he pulls off the wise grandpa look.
She of course hears about the wonder and miracle of Hoster Tully managing to regain his health. Personally Catelyn has been extremely worried for him. As a good wife of House Stark though, she keeps it to himself despite the daily correspondence from the Maester at Riverrun about the deteriorating health of her father.
Imagine her surprise when she got the letter that her father is not only well and recovered but spry enough to lead the charge against the Faith soldiers that are besieging the bastard sister of hers. Catelyn does not know whether she'll be relieved or explode in anger at the news. On one hand her father is healthy enough to be able to ride and fight. Opposite however is the simple fact that he saved the bastard from an untimely invasion from the chosen weapons of the gods themselves.
"Hello daughter, I am glad to see you," the familiar smile of her father greets her making Catelyn rush forward to hug him. She is a grown woman now with her own family. As she embraces her father though, she always feels like that little girl always that skip stones at Riverrun.
She notices something missing however
"Father," she begins eyes darting left and right. "Where is Edmure?" her brother is always a happy child. She knows that he would never miss a party for anything, especially something of this big of an importance. Edmure has always liked the joyful side of life.
"Oh, your brother? There he is," his father jots a thumb behind making Catelyn's heart sink faster than lead as he sees her brother decked in what seems to be a simple man-at-arms uniform with a covered helmet whom he raises making her see the face of her brother.
"B-brother, what are you doing?" asks Catelyn both flabbergasted and confused, even more so when Edmure simply gives her a goofy childish grin.
"Self-Discipline, father calls it. Apparently I need to get a better semblance of my impulses and desires. According to him, I need to have more self-control and be more like Delianah in order to become a worthy successor of Riverrun. So here I am in self-control. Tonight I'm a simple bodyguard of father in this feast and not allowed to partake,"
For a split second Catelyn's façade transforms into the thunderous scowl the moment she heard Delianah's, no; the bastard's name before she manages to school it back to normal. Her family is transforming before her very eyes. Her father must be cursed with some kind of evil sorcery from these wooden tree hugging demons and her kind, funny, quite idiotic but loveable brother are talking about duty of all things. He doesn't need to change himself, he just needs to be Edmure and that is enough. It is not his responsibility to adjust to the people, it is the people who should adjust to him as the proper heir.
Now here he is acting as a nobody guard, discarding his identity as heir to be one of the low. That bastard however she sees even from here is at the dais talking with the Princess of the Realm. It is like hers and Edmure's roles are reversed, this is one of her nefarious plans, Catelyn's sure of it.
She's going to put an end to it one way or another. Saying her goodbye's to Edmure, Catelyn turns to her father readying her argument that would remove the bastard sister of hers from the table permanently.
…
Royal Quarters, Osgiliath, After the Feast
The guest rooms here are akin to that of the ones found in Rivendell only a lot less ornate or sculpted, Myrcella notices as she stops before the door. She has already been expecting this meeting ever since her family entered King's Landing. She has fortunately managed to postpone it till now but she always knew it would be inevitable.
The sound of laughter of whores and that of her father at the other room almost makes Myrcella grimace. Other than a small wave with a pleased smile at his face, his father does not even bother on visiting or meeting her, or even sending a letter. As for her brother, the less that Myrcella can say about him the better.
She is here however in behest of the command of her mother inviting (commanding)her to visit the Royal Quarters to be with her family. She eyes the Kingsguard guarding the doors. She mentally frowns as she recognizes none of the faces before shrugging. Her mother must have traded once more the old members of the Kingsguard to more Westerlanders and boot lickers of House Lannister.
She barely manages to knock when the door jolts open nearly catching Myrcella by surprise when she is engulfed by a hug from her mother that literally knocks the air out of her lungs.
"Myrcella! My baby girl! You're here! Look at you, you're all grown up!" she immediately begins fussing over her.
"Your gown is too dull in color. Don't worry Myrcella, the moment you arrive at King's Landing, their will be a new gown waiting for you there,"
"Wait, what?! What do you mean once I arrive at King's Landing?" Myrcella asks disentangling herself from Cersei.
Her mother only bobs her head. "Yes, you will be heading back to King's Landing tomorrow. I've already prepared the necessary preparations. You will be back at Red Keep where Tommen is waiting for you. We will come back once this blasted tourney will finish,"
"Mother, I'm not going home!" Myrcella says loudly making Cersei stop as she stares at her daughter. "This tourney, me and the Lady Delianah has put too much effort in it to-,"
"You love her," the sudden words from her mother stops Myrcella's tirade as she stares in shock at the face of her mother who is looking sternly at her. Sure she knows that she rather likes the Lady Delianah, but love? She is too young to even understand what that is, or even how to handle that.
She flinches hard though as her mother palms her cheek, her touch grazing like a ghost.
"I understand daughter, our line it seems is always doomed to tread forbidden love. Don't worry though Myrcella for I will take care of everything,"
For some reason Myrcella fears these silent words of her mother than any shouting and confrontation she has been expecting to happen in this meeting.
…
Author's Note: Hope ya like it. Sorry for the extra OCs, I need extra characters for this Tourney. Don't worry they won't impact the story other than in this arc.
Yayyyy 6100 words.