Chapter Twenty
….
Petyr Baelish hums to himself as he leans on the plush couch at the private solar of one of his whorehouses. Beside him lying at a stool is the open letter he received from his Cat, trapped up there on that cold North.
"Interesting, so very interesting," he thinks to himself as he contemplates.
Like everyone else, he knows of course of the bastard of Tully, that fool of an ingrate Lord who has given his Cat to the barbarians of the North. He personally has never set his eyes on the girl, due to the fact that she is not important enough in the Great Game to warrant his attention. Sure she makes some waves, successfully studying with the Maesters, developing the bleak lands of Harrenhal, inventing new crops, finding a new mineral that creates a new demand on the market, being the first woman to be knighted officially by a king, and the first from the South to declare for the Old gods as the official faith of her territories.
It is probably the most gossiped the past few weeks by many down below the Neck. Apparently after the grand unrevealing of her new castle, the new lady of Harrenhal officially declared for the Old gods and the gods responded by making giant weirwood trees grow in the matter of minutes. Petyr happily shoves off that piece of information. The gods are not real and whoever shared that information in the first place must have been roaring drunk. They must have planted those weirwoods beforehand. There is no such tree that grows in minutes after all. That is preposterous simply.
Still, despite the reason why the bastard of Tully did not come into the radar of Petyr was the simple reason that she did not show any sign of being interested in playing the Game of Thrones. Other than the fact that the King fostered his daughter to her, the amount of interaction that the girl has with any high lord in referring to the Game is naught but zero. Sure his spies tell him about the trade deal she has with the Old Lion but it is a common occurrence that Lords tend to do.
With his Cat's request though, the girl just sealed his doom with Baelish setting his eyes on her.
"What to do though?" he mulls to himself.
He is too busy to be more hands on dealing with her. His long term plans regarding the draining of the Crown's accounts are way too important and meticulous to entrust with someone else. Still he cannot simply ignore his Cat's request. It is after all none damaging to his long term plans. Better, it can get him into the good graces of his Cat even more. Yes, he needs to get rid of this bastard. Cat simply asks him to shame her, not good enough in his opinion. Why bother shaming her after all when you can simply get rid of her plain and easy?
Now how can he take control of her assets once she's down though?
"Time to move some pieces that will create chaos and opportunities then; at the same time fulfill my Cat's wishes," Baelish smirks to himself, looking outside both in curiosity and expectation.
…
Rivendell, Main Hall.
The light of the sun shines through the open archways and windows giving light to the entire hall. Say what you will about the Builders from Essos but they sure do know their trade. Their craftsmen have etched beautiful opaque carvings with designs of leaves, stems and flowers on every pillar giving each archway a unique but parallel look. Add the crawling vines and plants that entwine themselves to the masonry and the result is a beautiful design that balances both aethestic beauty and fortitude.
The Main Hall of Rivendell is actually a wide open house perched at the walls of the hill connected to the main tower which is the personal quarters of Delianah and her guests. Eight archways are opened on the overlarge house's sides with eerie drops to the ground below on each balcony. The ninth archway is the largest with a large weirwood gate that needs to have at least four men opening it. Carved unto it is the image of Delianah raising her bloodied hand over the distant figure of Rivendell.
Suffice it to say that the next few weeks after her declaration of Rivendell as her primary home and the secession of its controlled lands to the Faith of the Seven have been of much interest. Of course not much has been seen in the primary lands of Harrenhal, now dubbed as Rivendell in honor of her decision. Much of the populace after all is high drunk on nutrition and loyalty potions. The vassal lands however gets the occasional angry peasant protesting quite loudly about her decision. Majority of course do not either because of A.) Westerosi history have a lot of examples of lords cutting off balls and cocks of smallfolk simply because they annoy them. B.) Under Delianah's rule, taxes are at an all time low and the smallfolk no longer experience the usual bouts of huger they are usually subjected to under other lords. In fact they are richer than they have ever been. C.) Nobody wants to risk their feelings of safety provided by forts manned by Unsullied soldiers who patrols non-stop the roads and fields. While many lords after all would vigilantly defend their lands from invasion, their focus are rather on their more personal keeps, not the smallfolk who tends to be the first targets of any invasion force.
Externally of course, the damage is even worse. Being the first Lady that declares openly to the Old gods instead of the Faith for a thousand years here at the South results to bad consequences. The entirety of the Riverlands literally cut off trade from Rivendell and also the same from the Vale and the Reach. Trade on these regions literally halted to zero. Ironically though Heads from these different houses still send their representatives to the monthly auctions when raw Delianite is being sold. There's no issue of trade from the West. No surprises there. Tywin Lannister has an iron grip on the Westerlands and the pragmatic old lion would not let something as trivial as religion affects the day to day events of his lands. The North of course has no issue whatsoever and would still happily buy from her every sack of rice she can produce. In fact the Northmen are mighty pleased with her choice and many of its lords and ladies have sent mementos (fur cloaks mostly with their personal emblems, the occasional Northern forged weapon, and flora and fauna native only to the North) as signs of approval. Dorne still orders its usual large amount of spices, the Dornish despite having the Seven as their faith, are not as high strung as the rest of the kingdoms. The Crownlands also stopped trading altogether but not the Red Keep. Come hell or high water before Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister willingly cut off their booze supply that they order in bulk from Delianah's farms.
In response to this, Viktor has ordered the mass mobilization of the Unsullied to every fort in order to secure the borders. The Death Dealers also have been more active than usual, stamping out unrest in any way or form. Still even with the advent of trade possibilities being cut off from many of the seven kingdoms, the income of Rivendell still rises to epic proportions.
Currently though Delianah is sitting atop the raised twelve step dais on her "chair". Chair is kindly describing it. The bloody thing is more like a throne than a chair. Made of weirwood, it is painted white and gold with a tree like design on its make, a tribute to the faith of the Green Men to the Old gods. Its armrests are made with beaten Delianite inlaid with gold, shaped like a wave on each side.
Compared to the Iron monstrosity that is at King's Landing though, her throne is comfortable to sit and does not have the tendency to poke her in unwanted places Beside the throne is three chairs on each sides, that goes into a U formation on each of the twelve steps. Four animal statues madewith Delianite stand in interval stand parallel to each other, forty-eight in all at the steps towards the throne, a lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle.
"Lord Norelos Hestaar, Lady Yin, welcome to Rivendell," Delianah smiles in greeting at the two entering the hall. The two has arrived only an hour away from each other. Color her surprised when the representative of the Iron Bank and a delegate from Yi Ti arrived on her lands.
"Lady Delianah," both bows in unison to her before heading to the chairs below the raised steps provided by two of the Death Dealers who then returned at the sides, standing in guard.
"Might I say it is very wonderful to put a face on you Lady Delianah," it is Norelos who started the conversation. "Your name has been uttered many times by a lot of our merchants back at Braavos. You are more beautiful than the rumors suggested for your age,"
"Thank you lord Norelos for your kind praise," Delianah replies to the man mentally wondering why he is putting on thickly the adjectives to her.
"Oh I am not a lord my lady. Simply a humble accountant of the institution sent here to negotiate on its behalf," he replies silkily with that fake smile. It almost reminds Delianah of a certain Ice Queen of Slytherin.
"Of course," Delianah replies, hiding the sarcasm from her voice. "Might I ask why the Iron bank sends one of its accountants here personally instead of a letter? It is not the first time that your representatives after all attended my auctions,"
"Business of course my lady; important enough in the eyes of the bank thus why I am here," Delianah watches as he reaches into his satchel and pulls out a shard of Delianite from it, clasped between his forefinger and thumb.
"Such a precious little thing but one of the most wanted by so many in the world. The bank proposes that we be your sole buyer my lady. We would be the one in charge of marketing and selling this mineral to potential buyers. Of course as usual we would pay for it at the highest auction price you have today. Also at every successful business venture of ours, we are willing to give you a fifteen percent share of the income proceedings. In return, we and only we will be able to buy from you directly,"
Delianah keeps an impassive face outside but inside she is leaping with joy. She of course has expected that Delianite would be a high commodity. It is one of the major financial pillars of her land barring the finished Philosopher's Stone. To have the Iron Bank as its sole buyer, not only would the price of Delianite increase due to monopoly but income would also be doubled. After all it would receive double, first from its usual price and next the percentage return. It is frankly a win-win situation. Still…..
"I would agree to the terms of the Iron Bank Accountant Nellos, but only if I raise the auction price to thirty percent," says Delinaha, fingers crossed in front of her.
A (totally) fake pained expression from the representative is the response she gets. "That hurts my feelings my lady. The Iron Bank after all would be responsible for the protection and the transport. Such involves gold and protection. The bank would acquiesce only a ten percent increase,"
Delianah mock scoffs at that as she leans back towards her "chair". "Preposterous, if someone offered me a percentage higher than that, I won't be able to offer it to them due to your monopoly, I say twenty percent,"
"You wound me dear lady. We would be earning so little that all we have been doing is selling without profit. Ten percent,"
"Even the Lannisters can give me a better offer. Seventeen percent," Delianah yawns.
"The Lannisters can cut off trade anytime from you in the event of a conflict between kingdoms which tends to happen every decade at Westeros. The bank's final offer, fifteen percent, my lady,"
Delianah only smiles as she stands up and walks down the dais of her throne to the accountant who is also up now on his feet. "Pleasure doing business with you sir. May there be gold and fortune between the Iron Bank and Rivendell," she says shaking the hand of the man who smiles and bows.
"I will be staying here for a day or two in order to iron out the final parts of the contract my lady. I do expect your courtesy," he says with a flourish.
"You have it," Delianah simply replies nodding wordlessly at one of the Death Dealers guarding her throne who then leads the Accountant out of the hall to the guest quarters.
"Lady Yin," turns her attention to the middle-aged looking lady dressed in an opulent dress of red and gold with that weird golden headdress. The attire reminds her eerily of ancient china back home. "My apologies for keeping you waiting but as you well-know, representatives of the Iron Bank requires immediate attention, always,"
"I take no offense my lady. The bank has its reputation and one must be wise to take into account that reputation always," Lady Yin replies with a demure smile.
"Very well then my lady," Delianah gestures for them to sit down facing each other, this time opting not to sit on her throne but at the empty chair left by Norellos. "I must admit Lady Yin, that I do not expect a representative of the Empire of Yi Ti here at my lands. I am curious as to why you undertake this long journey,"
"For the prosperity of my kingdom of course Lady Delianah," Yin replies before taking a large missive which she unrolls in front of the Lady of Rivendell. Delianah does not fail to notice the royal seal of the Emperor stamped into it.
"By order of the the Divine Emperor, Ling Han, I Yin Re am authorized to carry this message of his holiness. In lieu of my trip here at the kingdom of Westeros and in contact with the Lady Delianah of Harrenhal. It is the will of my Emperor that I, Yin Re deliver his desires of purchasing every gram of spice that is being produced in her land for the benefit of the Empire of Yi Ti. At every single harvest, no matter the quantity, the Empire of Yi Ti would lay claim of them all with a fair and just price from her Lady, Delianah. These orders will be immediate and in effect the moment the seal of this scroll is opened," and with that, the representative of Yin Re closes the scroll looking at a flabbergasted Delianah.
Said lady of Rivendell of course are just confused as she blinks at the expectant look of the woman in front of her.
"Where did all these monopoly buyers come from?" she wonders to herself perplexed. She of course understands that spices are an important additive to Asian Nations back at her old life but here too?
"So Lady Delianah, would you acquiesce to my Emperor's request for trade?" Yin Re asks making Delianah blink as she opens and closes her mouth, brain failing to catch up. "You can name any price you want as an increase of your current prices only that it not exceed a hundred percent increase. The Empire would buy it,"
"I'm going to be bloody rich as the Lannisters with this alone," she sweatdrops knowing already how pricey the spices are at the current market.
"Ahem," She gulps trying her utmost to look dignified. No sense after all on trying on botching this now. She's literally being handed "The Great" title soon if this string of luck of hers keeps up. "Ver well Lady Yin Re, I accept the offer of your Emperor. We will coordinate with the Guilds tomorrow for the price range after you've rest and eaten tonight,"
"I am pleased to hear that my lady," to Delianah's confusion though, she takes another scroll from her robes, this time a tad bit smaller which she does not break but hands over to the Lady of Harrenhal.
"What is this?" Delianah asks the representative as she breaks the seal and slowly unrolls it.
"A sign of a successful agreement my lady, and a token of my Emperor's good will to your,"
"Really? Thank you Lady Yin Re," Delianah replies formally before reading the words on the letter. Her eyes bug out though as she reads every word of the letter.
"By my will, the Holy Emperor of the Empire of Yi Ti, Ling Han; as a sign of my trust, generosity and thankfulness to the Lady of Harrenhall, Delianah Tully. I am giving as a binding trust of this agreement, to assign, my five year old daughter from my concubine Fi, Yasmina to serve as concubine and servant to the Lady of Harrenhal. May good fortune rule over you,"
"WHAT THE F-!"
…..
The Training Grounds, (Unknown Location near the Godseye)
Leomord Rivers fidgets nervously as he sits on the grass with at least a hundred others . The fog makes it near impossible to see the edges of the training grounds and the snow that is still present with the end of the "False Winter" still continue to fall.
He is however like every single soul here present for one thing and one thing only, the future.
Being a bastard at Westeros is bad. It is hard to find honest work, people immediately look down on you in hatred if not in outright disgust. Nobody dare trust you, after all who would trust a blight from the gods and humans born of sin? Thus it is no wonder that so many bastards turn to theft, banditry and other more unsavory means to scrape a living. Hunger is a great motivator.
Imagine their surprise when a month ago, messages come from all Westeros calling all bastards in the name of Delianah Tully, the Lady of the newly dubbed Rivendell now, not Harrenhal. Not only does she offer them a fair pay and a fair job, but she also offers honor and glory to those who answer her call.
Many of course that Leomord knows scoff. Glory and honor is something that bastards like him are too far to aspire. Leomord however chooses to come. He is hungry, cold and tired all the time due to the Winter. He literally has nothing to lose. Thus here he is sitting with a hundred other bastards waiting.
"Get up!" the sudden bark of order makes everyone stand immediately as a fifty year old man with pasty white skin wearing black robes appeared from the fog. Flanking him are two others in black shiny armor.
Leomord gulps. What in the world has he and everyone here have gotten themselves into. The man looks like he can kill you with that blue eyed stare alone.
…..
Author's Note: hope ya enjoy this chapter. I know it's a bit slow but we'll continue building next chap. Guess who's the next antagonists here? And why is Delianah recruiting bastards? Best guess gets a special mention.