Chapter Forty-Four
….
Tiredness, that is something that Robert Baratheon has been contending with these past two years. Apparently due to the almost civil war caused by the assassination of Delianah Tully during the Grand Tourney, the faith of the Lords of the realm on the Crown to restore order has been shaking badly. Long story short, it has taken its toll on the entirety of the King's Small Council, more specifically to his ever loyal Hand. Lords going after each other, missing heirs and daughters, bethrothals ambushed by unseen attackers, it is a disaster.
Jon Arryn bless his soul has been trying his utmost to resolve through diplomacy to bring the power base of the King back in order and prevent the realm from splintering. In a way it has made the already old frail man even frailer and it is no big shock and surprise for Robert to hear one day that his surrogate father fell ill at one Council Meeting.
Robert may be a waste, but if there's one good thing he is good at, it is caring for the people he holds dear to him. Thus after much self-determination (and against his better nature), he reluctantly takes his seat on the Iron Throne and takes over a lot of Jon's responsibilities which is supposed to be his responsibilities in the first place. While motivated by affection for the Arryn Lord, another reason is that Robert knows that without his big lard sitting his arse on the throne, it would be his wife in charge and in extension, Tywin's wrinkly ass on the throne. Now he can't have that for whatever reason. Sure Jon has served once again once he's up and about but Robert has seen his deterioration and he swears to himself that he would do his best to at least not disappoint the old man.
Two years, two fucking years of mending together a broken realm before they finally manage to once more regain a tenuous peace after strong arming many of the lords of the realm to accept the King's Peace and Protection. Thank the gods for those Silver Knights of Rivendell. Without them on call and payroll to deal with the hardliners it might have taken them an entire decade to put the realm in order.
Looking at the empty smaller chair beside his, Robert refuses to let a frown appear on his face due to him holding court. The chair is supposed to be for the Crown Prince where he could take his place in his father's presence when he takes court. Instead it is empty and thinking about it makes Robert want to have a headache. His idiot sadistic son for an heir seems to inherit the worst traits of both his and Cersei's. Lack of responsibility, cruelty, sadism and Robert is pragmatic enough to see a trace of something wrong on the child. His younger son on the other hand is the exact opposite of Joffrey. While the Crown prince is a bloody lion, his brother is a timid cat for gods' sake.
Robert groans as he tries to tune off the Lords below accusing one another for apparently sleeping with each other's wife. It is simply another day in court. He turns his thoughts to happier things though like his dear daughter successfully ruling a town in Rivendell with great success.
…..
Rivendell, Training Yard
The sound of steel smacking steel can be heard throughout the yard of the training grounds of where the Death Dealers usually practice their sword arts. Currently though, the grounds are empty of the usual black armored people bashing each other or new aspiring Death Dealers. Instead there are cheers going on as Death Dealer guards and trainees cheer at the two lithe figures swatting at each other in the middle while exchanging money hands. There is after all no happier seen for boys than see pretty girls duke it out.
"Giving up Cella? No chance after this, I'll make you eat dirt," mocks Delianah to the panting Princess of the Realm wearing the form fitting leather bodysuit common to Death Dealers.
"Give up?" the princess spits at the side waving off her golden French braid off her face. "I don't even know the meaning of the word anymore Delia," Myrcella replies with a smirk preparing herself in a loose defensive stance.
As she expected, her mentor and admiration rushes at her, the extra whip at her left hand lashing like a snake at her unguarded side. Delianah after all is more of an attacker than a defender. Instead of backing away or trying to parry with her sword like any amateurs might do, Amelia instead blocks it with her left hand letting the string wrap around her greaves. Delianah is a master at the usage of the whip, if she lets herself flow with her expectations, she'll be playing straight to the Lady of Rivendell's domain.
As it is, she yanks hard at the older woman making her yelp. she might never have been able to do this on their spars before. With her almost thirteen years old now though and fueled by the aging potion, she looks and stands near sixteen now, almost the same height and weight as her mentor.
The sudden unconventional move obviously catches Delianah by surprise as she stumbles forward straight towards Myrcella. The golden princess of the realm simply grins victoriously. This is her chance. She raises her sword anticipating the neck of Delianah where then she could force her to yield only to feel a stinging pain at the front of her face, specifically her nose. Arms flapping wildly like a bird, Myrcella lost balance and crashes back first in the ground.
Groaning and literally seeing stars, she glares at the grinning figure looking down at her.
"That's cheating. You punched me," she exclaims in accusation at the Lady of Rivendell whose amusement seems to increase.
"If you're not cheating you're not winning Cella, now get up," she orders holding a hand to her.
"You punched me," Myrcella simply repeats in a grumbling tone but she takes the hand offered to her nevertheless. With a grunt, she finds herself back to her feet though she winces at the damaged nose she is currently sporting. The sound of someone approaching makes Myrcella turn at the sight of Rhaenys however approaching the two of them. Like Myrcella she is also wearing the bodysuit undergarment with two swords strapped at her waist.
"My lady, Princess," she greets before wincing the moment she lays eyes on her. "What the hell happened to your nose Princess?"
"Delianah cheats during sparring," Myrcella simply replies trying not to butter the words into making them unrecognizable due to the blood from her nose.
"Ahh, did you win?" she turns this time however to Delianah who simply replies with a mischievous grin at Myrcella who scowls.
"Yes, I did. Only two moves this time I believe,"
Myrcella simply rolls her eyes at the shared smiles the two are sporting. Apparently Myrcella does not inherit the famed skill in the art of swordsmanship from her uncle. Sure she's competent with practice and training to be able to defend herself but she'll never be a prodigy like Rhaenys in the blade. Delianah is okay with the sword she notices, but her true skill is with the use of that fiery whip of hers or the spear. Despite the skill differences though they still find it a reason to batter her black and blue. Apparently "experience is a great teacher". Myrcella doesn't know whether the one who founds that saying is either a masochist or simply making excuses for his failures.
"Bring Essence of Dittany two bowls here, and make it quick," orders Rhaenys to one of the observing Death Dealers who is collecting their winnings from their poor fellows. Myrcella mentally scowls that the bet is not that she would win but rather how many moves it would take before she hit the dirt.
"Two bowls Rhaenys? Who's the other bowl for?" asks Delianah.
Myrcella watches as Rhaenys rolls here eyes before pointing at her back where a completely battered Edmure Tully in leather training armor lies almost lifeless on the dirt looking like someone have kidnapped him and used him as a punching bag. Of course the culprit is not hiding herself as she stands there looking like the Queen of Westeros in all her smugness looming over Edmure. Noticing them staring, she waves at them cheerfully before kicking Edmure on the side as the Essence of Dittany Rhaenys has ordered is delivered to her. If not for the extremely unhappy groan coming from Edmure, Myrcella might have thought that the heir to Riverrun might have somehow died.
"Here's yours princess," bows the soldier as she hands the bowl of green goo stuff to her which she haphazardly presses to her nose. She has been with the Death Dealers enough to know that despite the disgusting look the Essence of Dittany has, it would heal her quite nicely. As it is she breathes a sigh of relieve at the cold feeling overlapping her broken nose.
"He still hasn't given up?" asks Delianah leading her and Rhaenys to the side-benches where they watch Amelia give Edmure the thrashing of a lifetime as the poor young man tries his utmost to defend as if his life depends on it (judging by his pulpefied look it probably does) before sending him flying by a judo kick at the face.
"No," answers Rhaenys with a wince as the heir of Riverrun lands on a boneless heap at the ground. "He is still trying. I would give up if I am him though, it seems like an impossible goal,"
Myrcella wordlessly agrees. Long story short, Edmure Tully apparently manages to bonk his head in one of the shields during training and manages to glean a truth from the dented metal. Apparently some sort of madness descends on him for he starts to declare his adorations of love to the one who gives him a giant bump in the head. Unfortunately that said someone is no one else but the current Castellan of Rivendell, Amelia. Suffice it to say that said Castellan does not make it easy for the current heir of Riverrun. Apparently according to rumors, she would not give her affections to someone…..lacking. That is currently why Edmure is being thrashed for the twentieth day without stopping. Myrcella has to give it to the heir of Riverrun, he is persistent.
As he gets walloped again much to the extreme amusement of the bystanders, Myrcella sneaks a glance at Delianah. Like her, her mentor has also grown. Already much of the baby fat and the childish appearances are disappearing from her. She is turning into the extremely beautiful woman that Myrcella has always expected her to be. That is maybe why she is becoming worried. She knows that being single makes Delianah a tempting target for lords and their heirs. Rich, powerful, beautiful with large ties to many nations, it is a dream bride of many. That is why Myrcella knows that she also has to up her game.
She has long decided after Delianah recovered from that two week long recovery period(she has no idea of the ploy employed by Delianah and her excursion far North) after that horrible assassination attempt that she would win the heart of the Dame. When she heard that Delianah has been assassinated, Myrcella almost lost it. She knows in her heart of hearts of course who truly is responsible for the deed. She almost becomes a kinslayer at that point as she meets with her family after that deed and her mother gives her the "sad" news and how they are "praying" for Delianah's recovery. Suffice it to say that she has stormed out after that and used the fallout of said event as an excuse to stay at Rivendell by her own volition.
Come hell or high water, she would not be dragged down again to that cesspool of a city in King's Landing no matter what happens.
….
Rivendell Private Solar
"And here's the ribs my lady,"
"Thank you Peter, that would be all," Delianah smiles at the server who bows to her.
"It is a pleasure to serve you my lady. Have a happy meal,"
"I will Peter," she simply replies before closing the door.
Now all alone in her lonesome, Delianah inhales the sweet and spicy scent of Baby Back Ribs once more in her plate making her stomach gurgle in anticipation at the sweet heavenly goodness that it would soon crave. Placing the plate at her study table, Delianah takes a bite of the soft meat making her moan in blissful joy. If there is one thing that is good at all this ruling business is the simple fact that her servants are doing their utmost best to be of service to her. That includes the food menu.
The Auroch business she has to admit is a tremendous success. Her return trip from the frozen tundra of the North has allowed her to bring at least four hundred of the native animals who certainly appreciates the nice change of weather. Now after two years, Rivendell has a stable Auroch population that they can compete with the Reach in terms of beef business. Unlike the damned Reachers though, their menus are more diverse, courtesy of Western Cuisine. Delianah might not be an expert in cooking but her concubine, Yasmina is more than happy to take over. The now young woman after all is trained from her birth to serve as a good wife. A few dips in the Pensieve for cooking tutorials via Youtube that she watches in frequeny in her previous life and voila; five star chef in the making for Rivendell.
Said chef is currently asleep on Delianah's private bed in the solar. Suffice it to say that two years has hit Delianah pretty hard. Thus to stave off her rather raging hormones, she has taken to making Yasmina as a pillow and a bolster. No one can blame her, it becomes rather cold at her room and her concubine is warm and soft. Plus she gives really nice massages.
Currently though Delianah sets her attention on the stacked envelopes at her table. She counts at least eight with different seals from the Seven Corners of Westeros. Delianah of course has been trying to up her safeguards these past two years since the realm recovered from the War of the Faith Version 2.0.
One thing she has been trying to solve is the issue of her enemies being able to gather themselves together before striking directly at Rivendell. While a strong defense is a good thing, Delianah is more of an offensive type of gal and she hates the fact that she cannot strike out while her enemies gathered their strength.
Thus to address this issue, Delianah has adopted the strategy of the United States back home. Forward bases attached to trade centers are established outside of her land. While not as lavish as the fortresses that now guard her river entrances which are armed to the teeth. These fortified forts can serve as deterrents and also a harbor for her people doing business outside of Rivendell. Not only would these forts be threats to any enemies soon, but majority of their men are trained as skirmishers, light infantry able to move fast, strike hard and true before retreating. Against the peasant bulky levy tactics employed by the Westerosi, these would be good advantages.
Normally she would never be able to succeed on allowing any of the Lord Paramounts to agree to this. However many of the minor lords are freaking out during the War of Faith Part Two that they are willing to secede rights to a trade center via fort in exchange for steady supply of food and protection. By the moment that the King's tenuous peace settles back at Westeros, these forts are now fully built, manned and supplied much to the ire of the Lord Paramounts. After almost a month of complains and threats, they finally leave it be. While the Lord Paramounts after all control the lords in their domain, they cannot specifically tell a Lord what and what not to do. It would simply be bad press and would alienate what would be a possible ally instead.
Finishing her Back Ribs, Delianah places it outside her room at a table before ringing the bell for a steward to get it. She then returns to her solar watching Myrcella below sparring with Rhaenys. She smiles at the sight. The princess is no longer the sweet innocent girl that has arrived at her doorstep. Sure she's still gentle but there is no way that she is a pushover any longer. Delianah has given the large tract of land which she oddly dubbed "Bree" due to it being a stop for many highways at Rivendell territory for her to learn how to manage and rule. Suffice it to say that Delianah is pleased. The once empty land are now filled with inns, breweries and even a hotel or two for upper class citizens. It also hosts an inn for the Adventurer's Guild and an active Black Guard Outpost. All in all, it is a working town that brings nice tax back to her.
As she watches her golden haired friend below, Delianah wonders if she should say yes or no to the inevitable that would come between her and Myrcella. It would be an uphill battle with little to no benefit. Yet part of her really believes that things would work well between the two of them. Myrcella is literally after all living side by side with her. What would be the change other than the fact that they would be joined at the hip literally?
She sighs as she averts her eyes, she needs to think more about it. There is still the project after all up North at Sea Dragon Point that she would need to put her attention at soon once it hits the stride in almost done.
Currently though, Delianah removes her outer robes leaving her in her shift before joining Yasmina under the sheets who cozies up to her. For now though, she would just relax a little and enjoy the warmth of another holding her.
There is always time for politics once the ships of the Iron Bank arrive soon at the Shore Blue City of Dol Amroth up North.
…..
Author's Note:
Hello, fellow Westerosi. Hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I'm gonna be rushing it a bit since I have a lot of plans for other stories in my head. Anyway hope you like this.