Chapter Seven
…..
Hoster Tully sits tiredly on the River Chair, the official seat of the Lord of the Riverlands located at the center of the dining hall of Riverrun. It is a simple chair designed to accommodate to the comforts of the current Lord unlike that monstrosity of a chair that is called the Iron Throne. There is even spacing pre-prepared by its original makers where cushions can be placed to accommodate the back and the ass. A footstool is also glued on it in order for its occupant to place their legs into and reduce the stress on the knees.
Despite the comforts of the River Chair however, it does little to lessen the tiredness of Hoster Tully. As usual the pain of his old wounds weighs him down. Add that to his already advancing age and it is all he can do sometimes to walk down from his solar. Already he is using a room on the main floor in order to have access to the Welcome Hall where matters of the Riverlands are being discussed.
Normally it should have been Edmure's purpose and responsibility running the Riverlands for this Harvest Feast. However once more, the boy proved incompetent as he overpriced almost everything of the food, insulted a lot of the servants by wrong wages, made mistakes on the delivery and alienated the guards by the rather unfair scheduling of their duties. Worse, he worded the names of the Lords of Riverrun wrongly nearly causing a cascade of angry lords marching to Riverrun in protest wondering if the current heir is making fun of them.
Thankfully, Maester Olga managed to get wind of it and informed him of the rather large amount of blunders. This prompted Hoster to rise from his bed and kicked out his incompetent son while he did damage repair to his work before managing the affairs of the Harvest Feast himself despite his ailing body.
Currently his son is once more gone with the other young boys hunting making Hoster scowl on his morning porridge. He should be here with him greeting the other lords and learning. Instead he is once more wasting the opportunities being provided for him.
"It might have been different if Delianah is here. That girl may be a bastard but never let it be said that she is incompetent," the girl had run the Riverlands properly and at a very young age at that. However she was a bastard and a threat to Edmure's future as long as she was here. Until now Hoster can't fully remember the reason why he gave her the Tully name.
"Pity that she is born a bastard else she might have earned Riverrun by competence alone. Still, she is my daughter and I've heard good things about her work being as heir of Harrenhal" Hoster thinks to himself watching the first of the arriving Lords enter the hall and approaching the high table to greet him. He sighs once more as he straightens his rickety back. Once more the dance of pleasantries must start and he is once more devoid of his rest.
"Where is Edmure when you need him?" He mentally moans as Lord Mallister approaches him with that ever mocking smile of his that never fails to remind Hoster of how much a rival to his House the damned sea loving fools are.
…
"…..and the prices for this upcoming order of wine barrels. Seriously Robert, why in the world did you order this much wine for your personal use? Robert! Robert are you listening to me?"
Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, grunted in automatic agreement to Jon Arryn's tirade like an annoyed bear in his wine hazed mind in his bedroom.
"Gods at least bears have more interesting lives than I do," he groans inwardly as he nods and grunts to the chastisement that the Lord of the Vale is giving him. As usual, Jon is giving him the usual run down about his vices and why he should stop them.
Robert grunts at that. It's as if he has anything better to do than his vices. Stuck in a castle and unable to roam far without the entire realm squawking about his whereabouts. Married to a shrew of a woman who's more viper than lioness. She guards her cunt so strongly that it never fails to amaze Robert (if he's not in a drunken stupor) how he sired three children with the damn woman. Worst of all, it is always responsibility, responsibility that he is nearly going deaf hearing it. It is more Ned's thing, duty and responsibility; not his. All he'd ever wanted in this world was to be free. Married to Lyanna, riding with her, giving her that freedom that she'd always wanted; maybe sail the world with her. They'll have marvelous children, stag and wolf blood bound together as fierce and wild as both.
Now all he has for children is one spoiled brat, one spare whom he barely knows and his beautiful princess. Golden haired and beautiful as their mother, Lannister shits. At least this way stuck in his vices, he can still dream bashing Rhaegar's chest for ruining not only his intended, but also his life.
"Your Grace, a letter arrived by Raven from the Crownlands," Jon's voice cut through his foggy brain like a knife. "It says that Pricess Myrcella's escort have passed on towards Riverrun. They'll be on time for the Harvest Feast there your Grace,"
"Whut? Good, good, that's very good," Robert murmurs more to himself as he crashes on the bedsheets feeling sleepy.
He'll be the first to admit that he failed as a father to his children. Joffrey is a little shit that needs a good beating; Tommen needs to man up and be aware of his responsibilities as a prince instead of hiding behind his father's skirts and Myrcella needs to be protected. He loves them, he really do, however for some reason he can't put the effort on showing them.
The reason Myrcella is off to the Riverlands though is a rare moment of Robert in a moment of clarity putting his fatherly responsibility on the works. Cersei might have gotten her claws on Joffrey and Tommen, but Myrcella, the princess who seems to have a spine out of his three children despite hiding it from her mother is still her very own person. Thus after Joffrey's Name day where as usual she brings her precious golden lion to Casterly Rock for the festivities and leaving behind her two other children, Robert acted.
Tommen of course would be tutored by Jaimie Lannister since the young kid is likely to be the next Lord of Casterly Rock. Tywin Lannister would not have it that anyone else be the kid's protector and teacher. This left Myrcella alone usually.
Robert of course like anyone else heard about the infamous bastard daughter of Hoster Tully who went to Oldtown and literally put the smack down on the Maesters there. Then she went to Riverlands and for a time acted as Regent of Hoster Tully as Lord Paramount due to his illness. Rumors were the Lords of the Riverlands preferred the bastard over the enthusiastic fool that is Edmure Tully. Then she goes off to live on the ruins of Harrenhal and became its future Lady. Not only did she manage to gain the loyalty of the smallfolk of the castle but even improve their lives; and she did that while six name days old.
As far as Robert was concerned, anyone that not only survive Harrenhal but even improve it, was good in his book.
Thus the reason why he sent his only daughter there. As a warrior, Robert had seen the horrors of war. He can personally attest to the fact that the prayers and courtesy of women not work on the real world. They need to be strong, to be able to use their minds and hands in anyway possible if only to survive. He had fought alongside the Mormonts of the North and he respected their warrior women. He had considered sending his daughter there but constant raiding from pirates and the occasional "willful" Ironborn made him reconsider.
In the end he chose to send her to Hoster Tully's legitimized bastard daughter. Her reputation after all spoke volumes of her. Myrcella can learn a lot there from her despite his personal dislike for Hoster Tully for not allowing Ned and Jon through the Riverlands if not for them marrying her daughters first. It would be safe enough and the young legitimized bastard was not aligned personally with the other schemes of the Great Houses due to her status. Robert personally had a soft spot for bastards since he had so many. In any way he hoped that other than learning, she might gain a friend there. Goodness only knows how lonely she might be here under the suffocating care of her mother.
Robert can attest to that experience personally.
"Robert are you listening to me?! We need to talk about the payment for your order of liquors! Robert Listen!"
Robert groans as he tries to bury his head and block Jon's voice off. Where's the wine when you need it?
….
Before you read. I changed the age of Myrcella Baratheon. Instead of the tender age he is at the show and the books. Here I increased her age at six. She is also the first born of Robert and Cersei though her paternal father is still Jaimie Lannister. She will play a large part in this story that's why I changed her age a bit.
Myrcella Baratheon nervously fidgets on her chair as she watches the proceedings below. The six year old is glad that she has the reassuring presence of Sir Arys Oakheart at her side. The stern but silent Kingsguard is a silent shadow that has glued to her hip the moment they stepped out of the capital.
Myrcella actually never expected to be going on this trip. All her life she had been cooped on the Red Keep due to her status as a princess. It might have been a comfortable life if not for Joffrey Despite being a year older than him, the heir to the throne is a monster in human's clothing as far as Myrcella is concerned. He takes great pleasure in bullying her and Tommen especially. More than enough of Tommen's cats were killed due to his cruelty resulting to her younger sibling being heartbroken more than once. He would also fire crossbow bolts at her head if he's feeling particularly vindictive or at her skirt grazing more than once her skin and scalp. Sure he never fires to hit her but he takes pleasure seeing her run away holding her bleeding wounds.
Before she had hoped that her father and mother might intervene. That hoped dashed away in her early years when she realized that her mother despite professing fair undying love to the three of them, doted and cared for Joffrey compared to her and Tommen. She's got a feeling that anything short of murder in front of an entire crowd would make her mother believe. Even then she will try to cover it up. Her father on the other hand….the less said about her father's vices, the better.
Still she's thankful. He sent her here in an effort to learn more about the kingdoms he is ruling. Sure she might not be the crown heiress but she would be a lady of a Great House soon. Princesses are usually wed to heirs. Myrcella would try her best not to shame the royal court or her family.
Now here she is, sitting at the High Table together with the aging Lord Tully at his right while his heir, Edmure at his left is busy flirting with the maid. Down below the River Lords, a combination of men in silk and robes that made up the ruling of the Riverlands are laughing and talking as they partake in the feast. The loudest of them all and who seems to be trying to make the others listen to him is an old man with a weasel-like face. With him are almost a dozen other younger looking weasel look alikes.
Ser Arys must have seen her eyes' attention for he leads towards the side of her head: "That's Walder Frey, Lord of the Twins. His house alongside the Mallisters continue to be a challenge for the Tullys as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. Nasty sort of people your highness,"
Myrcella simply hums in response. An hour before, all these Lords had been approaching her, welcoming her to the Riverlands and repeating how such of an honor it is to host her. Nothing made her skin crawl than old Walder Frey as he did a mock representation of a kiss at her palm. She had deftly washed it immediately the moment no one was looking.
All in all it is a pretty good day for Myrcella. She maintained her composure despite being jittery at first. It's her first time to be dealing with Lords of the Realm after all. Sery Arys had tutored her however all the way here making her more than ready. All she had done is being polite to them and they returned the favor in kind. Of course she knew that normally visiting princesses will be sought out by eligible young heirs and bachelors. However at her tender age, there seems to be none that is interested at the moment. Suffice it to say in her opinion, this surely beats staying at the Red Keep alone. However there is one thing that she has been missing to see. What her father specifically told her to look for during her time here.
"Pardon my disturbance my lord," she says to the eating Hoster Tully who looks at her direction. "I have heard that you have another daughter at your old age. I have been expecting to meet her. Is she not present?"
"My apologies your highness; last I heard my daughter is also on the way here. The muddy roads might have held her up. It is not unusual for an attending dignitary to be sometimes late in a Harvest Feast," he replies a bit nervously looking at the door as if willing his daughter to appear.
"Of course, my apologies for disturbing your meal my lord," Myrcella politely replies. It is not surprising. Her visit to the Feast is a bit of an impromptu decision that no one expects. If they had known, she knows that they would be here hours early to greet her.
Still, she is both curious to meet Lord Tully's daughter. Her father told her about the former bastard's deeds before she left. She is both enthralled and amazed at the story of her father. A beautiful bastard that climbed her way from the stigma that is her name and became a lady of her own right. Not only is she the future lady of her own castle, she became the first woman to enter the Citadel and beat the Maesters of their own game.
What she has, is freedom, something that Myrcella does not have. She can make her own choices with her taking full account of the consequences. Compared to her, Myrcella is a pretty doll; stuck at the Red Keep as an ornament and later as a present for any of her suitors who is deemed right by her family.
She can still remember clear as day the words of her father though when he informed her of his decision to send her here: "Find this Lady Tully Myrcella. Learn from her. Take as much time as you want. Ser Arys will protect you. The world is not a nice comfortable place my beautiful daughter. As a woman you will not have the strengths that men have. That means you must use the only thing that you can. Your mind. As loath as I am to admit, it is the same strength your grandfather Lannister has, and see what he is now. Learn from this Tully Myrcella. Learn from her and I expect good changes when you return,"
Myrcella has no idea what these changes, her father meant, but she is determined that she would not disappoint him. Besides she has every excuse to stay away from the Red Keep, and especially from Joffrey. Poor Tommen must endure him alone now though. Myrcella however is already tired being fired at by a crossbow.
The sound of the hallway doors opening however brings her out of her musings. It is not her alone however. Every eye inside the hall stop whatever they are doing as they turn their attention to the slender figure wearing a form fitting leather outfit that hugs her curves and leaves nothing to the imagination. Pale pink hair with large streaks of red fell to her butt like a long mane. A pair of "spectacles" only colored brown cover her eyes and when she removed them, shows the greenest eyes that Myrcella has ever seen. High chinned and elfin features, she is the most beautiful woman Myrcella has ever seen and the most daring and confident. A short sword is strapped at the small of her back above her butt designed in the most elaborate sheathe of gold and black. She has seen a lot of different ladies at court, but no one come close to the one she is seeing right now. Her high heeled black boots makes a clacking sound as she marches towards the high Table of Riverrun towards the shocked expressions of Hoster and Edmure Tully. She looks like a young woman fourteen name days despite originally being six years old. Myrcella knows exactly who she is. Only one family after all has that signature Red hair that is well-known in the seven kingdoms.
"Hello father," her melodic voice is both proud and strong as she stops a few steps before the stunned two Tully's. "Sorry I'm late. I have to bring wagon fulls of gifts for everyone after all," the Cheshire grin with those red lips that greets the two is both mesmerizing and daunting.
Myrcella decided there and then about her opionion to Delianah Tully.
"I want to be the same as her!"
…..
Castle of Harrenhal
Matthew yawns lazily on his tent as he fans himself to get rid of some of the mosquitoes that seem to be present at the swamps that surround Harrenhal. His workload has lessened tremendously ever since he niched his young second in command to be the one in charge of the creation of the "hill" that his employer is demanding. Of course he still handles the logistics but other than that, Ellie does the rest and he is left to lounge lazily inside his personal tent.
"Sir!" the familiar voice of his second in command brings him out of his stupor as he enters the tent where Matthew is sitting behind his desk.
"What can I do for you Ellie?" he asks the young man who regained his breathe before talking.
"The personal gardeners of Lady Delianah is asking for the make of several long ladders sir. They plan to plant something on the finishsed hill sides,"
"Fine, fine but do not forget to foot the bill of materials and labor to them,"
"Yes sir," Ellie bows before walking off.
Matthew yawns again as he returns to his beauty sleep. A hill with flowers as far as he is concerned is still an ugly hill after all.
…..
Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. Been feeling lazy lately.