Chapter Thirty
….
Sea Dragon Point
The horse of Ned Stark whinnies as it pauses from its canter. The Warden of the North himself but mentally feel his jaw drop as he sees the bustling groups of people below. It has been barely two weeks since the War of the Faith ended. Formally no one wins according to the Crown. It is pathetically obvious however to the dumbest Lord that Delianah Tully won. The Faith literally got a thrashing of a lifetime during the battle with nothing to show for it except six dead High Septons and thousands of men dead.
Eddard shudders as he remembers the young girl back at Pyke. He of course acknowledged her prowess back then especially after she saved their hides from the Ironborn. It was one thing however to fight outnumbered Ironborn and battle. The Battle of the Gods, many of the lords and common folk call it when the might of Rivendell faced off against the strength of the entire Crownlands and part of the Reach. Heavily outnumbered and facing Randyll Tarly himself, Delianah Tully won the day by leading the charge herself. Of course later the reinforcements of House Bolton and the Houses sworn to Dragonstone under Stannis came to her aid, but the point remained that she led her men to battle and won.
Not only that, she also had enough connections to some of the highest people in the land. Connections mind you that was deep enough that they came riding to her aid. Ned had no idea how Tywin Bloody Lannister of all things came riding personally from the Westerlands with his cavalry supported by a healthy Hoster Tully with his entire family and smashing to bits the entire Holy Army assembled from the levies of the Riverlands.
That's not mentioning also the small fact that she called on the Old Gods' and the bloody gods answered which resulted to twelve thousand dead men and an entire new area called the Forest of Death down South. Many of the more devoted Lords of the North had been rather smug to the minority that believed in the Seven till now.
Back at present though.
For the life of him, Eddard wonders if the Tully of Rivendell even sleeps as he looks down below the once empty land of Sea Dragon Point. Whereas the place is once barren wasteland filled with nothing but snow, ice, dirt, mud and barren rock; now it is the complete opposite. Ships of every kind that sailed on the Canal of the Old Gods are now docked on the makeshift harbor. There are the massive ships of Braavos, the sleek elongated ships of Pentos and the harpy of the three cities. Thousands upon thousands of people are also present working as Rivendell longships come and go carrying large amounts of marble of all things and Obsidian. A wooden palisade is surrounding the working area almost three kilometers long as the "Indentured Servants" of the Free Cities work.
"What in the name of the old gods is she building?" Eddard Stark wonders to himself as he sits there confused atop his horse with his guards.
…
Rivendell, Office of the Castellan
The Castellan of Rivendell suffices it to say might also be called the Hand of the King but only in a lesser degree to the Lady of Rivendell . Currently said office is occupied by two people, one the Lady of Rivendell herself and its current Castellan, Amelia.
For Delianah she likes this position lying on the pale soft legs of her former personal guard. Her guard has opted to wear shorts(which Delianah has been introducing to the Guilds for daily use) today in her personal quarters giving Delianah a free for all smell of the young woman. Of course she happily disregarded the thunderous blush that occurs at Amelia's face when she made her long legs her bed pillows.
Currently she is taking a small break resting as she listens to Amelia sort out the thousand and one details that would be needed for the projects of Rivendell but basically leaning currently on the development of Sea Dragon Point and the preparation to the Tourney.
"Seawater?" You ordered barrels of seawater?" Amelia blinks confused at the contents of the paper she is currently holding. It contains the seal of Rivendell to the head craftsman at Sea Dragon Point. The command is to simply clear a dozen fields and fill them with cement, blocking them at the sides and pouring seawater at them.
"Yep," Delianah answers elongating the "P " of the word. "This would be the next source of income for Rivendell, one that would be ingenious, other than the Delianite mines of course that would soon be sprouting up North at Sea Dragon Point once I visit there,"
"My lady, please explain this to me in words that I might understand for I don't get half the things that goes on inside that brain of yours," Amelia finally sighs exasperated making Delianah smile inward with glee. At least her daily harassment of Amelia has finally knocked some sense to her friend into not becoming like the other Green Men who have a penchant of kissing the ground she walks on.
"Oh alright, I'll tell you Amelia," she sighs dramatically making sure to slap soft under parts of Amelia's outer thigh earning her a squawk and a glare from the young woman.
"Other than gold, silver, spices and steel, salt is the next best thing when it comes to commodity as far as I observed. This backwater of a land unfortunately does not yet know its value and thus the houses at the shoreline that does get it from sea rocks at their domains have no idea of the gold mine that it is. Salt is extremely useful dearest Amelia in preserving food. It is ranked up there with spices and ice. It is also a chef's demand once I put some samples of my brilliance in culinary arts later. Most monarchs and nobles find it unacceptable after all to be rather bland. Spices are a hit that's why, before Yi Ti demanded they get all. Thus once I'm done Amelia and this entire backwater of a continent knows of it, it would be of great demand and precious that it's weight would be that of gold," Delianah finishes dramatically.
At the blank stare she gets in return, Delianah grimaces as she sits up facing a confused looking Amelia.
"Too much?" she asks earning her a small nod before indicating at her legs again to make her lie down with a wordless glare that literally shouts: "EXPLAIN!"
She simply mentally groans at that. She really misses Viktor who does not ask questions. Delianah simply looks at the bright side. At least her leg pillow is awesome.
…
South East of Rivendell, Haunted Forest, the Forest of Death
"You're a Potter alright. Only a Potter would dare to stay in a place clouded by the souls of so many dead people recently killed," the voice of Hoster (AKA James) sounds out making Delianah look up from the root she is sitting.
"You are either very brave or very stupid….father for approaching me, especially with you being so unknown to my current companions," true to her word, the dozens upon dozens of Treants, dryads and hamdryads, and even a couple of Ents surrounding the area emerge almost from every rock and stone, hissing and growling at the red tunic clad figure.
"Please son, or should I say…..daughter," the old man smirks fingering the pommel of the sword at his belt. "I've wandered the Haunted Forest with my only companions a Grim and a fully adult Werewolf. I've reined both of them against the creatures of the dark that call that forest home. The last things that I would need to be afraid of are moving trees,"
His words are greeted with many hisses from the denizens of the dark forest though he remained unflinching as he stares at one of the hamdryads.
"The ritual of Hygeia, impressive; druid magic I reckon? You must have needed a lot of power to summon a forest this stretch and big. Blood magic?"
"Soul magic," Delianah corrects waving her hand for the denizens of the forest to stand down before patting the space beside her. "Took me almost a hundred ghosts but it gets the job done,"
"Yes, twelve thousand dead men and another two hundred more litters waters this ground with their blood. I never thought you would have it in you. You are a lot like your grandfather you know,"
Delianah raises an eyebrow at that. "Really?"
"Oh yes," Hoster replies with a chuckle as she leans on the giant tree root that Delianah is also resting. "He participated in the war against Grindelwald and the Second World War. Fierce, Courageous like the very banners that adorn House Gryffindor. He proudly displayed the painting of him and Longbottom hurling the roof of a giant barn at a flying German Zeppelin. Quite a sight mind you for a painting, and definitely not one to be seen by children. I believe that part of the recklessness of my youth was influenced by that overlarge painting at Potter Manor before Old Voldy destroyed it,"
"For the record, he got the justice he deserved, father," Delianah replies.
"Yes, yes he did. Death was quite proud of shouting to the other perpetuals about that you know," Hoster grins. "Many a soul was given gratification when you've thrown to hell the coward,"
"I'm glad,"
The two of them descends into silence only with the sound of the other magical denizens of the Haunted Forest going around their business. Delianah does not fail to see Hoster eyeing the shapely bum of a hamdryad through her dress made of leaves. She mentally sighs at that.
"Listen…..father, I think it's time for the two of us to address the elephant on the room," she pauses as the old man makes a waving motion for her to go on.
"For all my years of life, I have lived without you. Don't take this the wrong way. All my life back then, all I wanted was for you and Mum to be back. But you're dead, simple as that. I loved you, even though I didn't know you. Many of your former friends and colleagues told me enough stories about your bravery and character. Also I've seen and heard your last moments when a Dementor got near me," she explains.
A sad look now fills Hoster's eyes as he places a hand on Delianah's shoulder. "I am truly sorry for not being there for you when you're growing up,"
"It's not your fault father. You protected me and you did what was right in a shitty confrontation. Not even Dumbledore could have stopped the Dark wanker back then. The fact remains though father that I grew up without you around and I…,"
"Don't know how to deal with me now that I'm here," finishes Hoster making Delianah blinkw.
"How did you know?"
A wry grin simply appears on Hoster's face. "I have gotten into terms with it at the afterlife when I agreed with Death's favor to be here for you. You have grown up without me daughter and you have done many great things with your life, half of which I never even expected. Though I am kinda disappointed that you didn't contribute Potters to the next generation,"
A red blush appears at Delianah's cheeks at that. "Hunting Dark Lords is a dangerous occupation Dad,"
"I know, I understand. I'm just messing with you," Hoster replies with a knowing smirk making Delianah scowl at him though the two of them bursts into laughter then for a few minutes before descending into silence.
"You are a grown person Harry or Delia, as you are known now. You have the right to make decisions. I will not strong arm you into mine. My presence here in this world is for you to have family and people you can fully trust that will not backstab you. Death told me enough about this world. Trust here is apparently in short supply. You have loyal people here. But family will always be the first and foremost that will be there for you,"
"Hmm," Delianah finally sighs as she stands up and wraps Hoster in a hug which the older man happily reciprocates. Despite the fierce Auror and Dark Lord Catcher that make up the majority of her. A part of Delianah would always be the little boy craving for her parents. When she first arrived here, some little portion of her soul wished that her father would be a father to her. Alas, she was born a bastard, and a bane of society. Now she got both, the father from her past world and her father in this world.
"Mom won't be here will she?" Delianah asks still feeling the warmth of her father as they release each other from the embrace.
A sad smile simply appears at Hoster's face. "No, she won't be. Death is already bending the rules as it is," he pats the top of her head. "I might not be as brilliant as you my dear daughter but I will try my best to help you in this world,"
"You know my deeds here father?" asks Delianah.
"Yes, of course! Turning your dirt of a home into one that can almost be called fairyland with gold and power raining all over," Hoster smiles brightly before frowning. "I am quite worried about you though. You are taking a lot of risks and you are burning yourself out. I understand your desire to make your territory prosper your daughter but you need to watch over your health. Where do you even get the time micromanaging all this together?"
Delianah simply smiles at her newfound father before pulling out the necklace being hidden at the cleavage of her neckline.
"Oh," Hoster simply says at the small version of a time turner. "That's cheating! No wonder when I asked around at Rivendell, they say you are in a meeting with your Castellan currently,"
"I know right," Delianah grins brightly. "I am a daughter of a Marauder after all,"
In the dark glooms of the Forest of Death, the sound of father and daughter's laughter can be heard by no one but themselves,"
…
Former Lands of Goodbrook, now Outer Territories of Rivendell
Draco overlooks the former lands of Goodbrook as thousands upon thousands of craftsmen from Essos swarms the entire land hauling marble, wood, silver, and stone in rather large amounts. With the lands of the Roote, Darry and Wode declared parts of Inner Rivendell, the rest of the new Houses that fell under his goddess' hands are now Outer Territories of Rivendell.
Longships carrying hundreds upon hundreds of new citizens are arriving in droves to settle the new Outer Territory lands of Rivendell. With the influx of new slaves that will now call Rivendell home, it had come to his goddess' attention that the workload of managing everything would be a little bit much for the Castellan of Rivendell alone to handle. Thus the position of Watcher which was given to Draco due to his exploits before and after the War of Faith.
While the Castellan of Rivendell takes care of the important facets and logistics that keeps Rivendell running along with its finances and projects. The position of Watcher means keeping tabs and taking care of the Inner and Outer Territories of Rivendell. While the Watcher would answer to the Castellan, he has independence on almost everything outside Rivendell castle.
For Draco however, he cared not for the title or the high position it holds. For him it's just another job that his goddess requires from him and Draco would not find himself wanting. After handing his position as Commander of the Black Guard to Pete, he once more dove into his position of managing the Outer Territories into patterns and places that would make his goddess proud. Amelia had already handed to him the rough outlining of her plans, homesteads, forts, farms, trade routes and places. All he had to do was make sure they were all up and running as the Castellan planned it. It still however required a lot of managing expertise at his side.
As to why he is personally here at the former lands of Goldbrook, suffice it to say that according to the Lady Castellan, this part of Rivendell Territory would be the place where the tourney of the King would be held and would also be the place of the largest city of Rivendell. Thus Draco would be calling this his place of office in the long term future.
If not for the rather narrow minded focus provided by Unsullied training, Draco might have questioned where his managerial skills came from.
…..
Rivendell, Gardens
"Grandfather!" despite his rather sullen mood, Tywin lets one of the rare smiles of his appears at his mouth as the now tall figure of Myrcella slams into him.
"You've grown granddaughter," the Lord of Casterly Rock comments as Myrcella lets go of him. Grown in fact would be an understatement. When he last saw the girl, she was barely a small child. Now she looks like a young woman and tall. It actually reminds him of the sight of a younger Joanna. There is a brightness and innocence also in her that Tywin noticed before lacked.
"I see you're fostering is going well," he comments patting the stone chair at his side. For the life of him, Tywin has no idea how a stone slab could feel comfortable. Everything in Rivendell seems designed to give every bit of comfort.
"It is grandfather, I am happy here," his granddaughter replies brightly. "And I learned a lot from Lady Delianah and Lady Amelia,"
"I can see that," Tywin nods simply before accepting the tray of cooled "Ice tea" as the servants at Rivendell call it. Unfortunately it is not for sale yet according to the Castellan. "I hope you have not neglected your lessons granddaughter,"
"Of course not grandfather, though I've learned a lot other than the usual lessons that the dull septas teach back at King's Landing,"
"That is good," Tywin replies. Personally he agrees with her. The septas teach the basic "pump out as much babies as you can" mentality to every noble girl out there. That is why he personally trained and taught Cersei and Jaimie during their younger years. Of course his effort is dully wasted seeing them now waste their talents.
Time for him to get to the point though.
"I might say that some of the things you've learned here are rather detrimental to your health," he comments earning him a confused look from the princess,"
"How so grandfather?"
"I've heard from the servants that you joined the army of Rivendell in incognito no less with no one else but your handmaiden at your side," Tywin says putting a bit of steel in his voice. He doesn't fail the involuntary flinch from his granddaughter.
"Grandfather I-," she begins to say but Tywin cuts her off with a raised hand as he takes a deep breathe. Personally he is both astounded by the stupidity, foolishness , but bravery also of her action.
She still needs to know her role as a princess though and it is high time she gets a personal lesson from him.
"Myrcella Baratheon, listen to me and listen well," he begins the chastisement to the daughter of the royal family.
….
Personal Guest Quarters of Rivendell
Rhaenys Targaryen would be lying to herself if she does not admit that she's afraid. There is good reason to for the man who ordered her to be murdered is only a few floors away. Of course the realistic part of her knows that she is being silly. The Rhaenys Targaryen that got killed before would be on her teens by now. In the minds of all at Westeros, she would be dead already. Here at Rivendell, most (Minus Delianah and the Green Men) knows her simply as Rae-Rae the friend and handmaiden of Myrcella.
The pragmatic part of her that learned under the lessons of Delianah and the teachers at her schools knows that she is perfectly safe. The part of her that died a million horrible deaths however tells her otherwise. Thus she stays here as far away as possible from the monster. Delianah had allowed it though she still needs to help Amelia with the paperwork that the Castellan is swamped with.
As she sits here alone, eyes unreading the book she is holding with the silent spectre of Arthur Dayne guarding her, Rae-Rae slowly comes to the realization that the best friend she cares about is the same blood as the monster that condemned her to die. She should hate Myrcella, the blood that courses through Tywin is the same as the one as that of the Princess. By blood and right Myrcella, the girl that is her best friend is her enemy. Her mother, brother and father would writhe at the grave knowing the bond that she shares with the golden princess.
Rhaenys doesn't understand why she discards all those thoughts as Myrcella enters the room eyes puffy and crying. All she cares about is hugging her and letting her know that her Rae-Rae is holding her.
…..
Author's Note: Hello fellow Westerosi travelers. I've been feeling a little sick lately so sorry if some parts are a little bit off due to the headache. Hope ya like it.
Anyway next chapter I'm time skipping since if I focused on world building it will take a lot of chapters and time. I wanna go on with the story and hopefully push some of the more finer points closer.
I also wanna ask for any hidden bards among you to make a song of Delianah's victories since I suck at making songs or poems. Also that of Myrcella since it would be unwise to make a song for the lady but not for the princess. Just a challenge for all.
Side note though, I need your official opinions. I plan to make an LOTR Inheritance Cycle Harry Potter Crossover. Imagine a mature Harry waking up as Elrond with his sword skills when he is a commander of the Elves during the Last Alliance and he and his legion find themselves during the battle of the Elves and Galbatorix where Evandar, the Elven King fell.
Is it a good idea?