Chapter Forty-Nine
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Author's Note: Alright Ive read some of the Reviews again before I started writing.
First of all Im sorry about the "Silvannah, Delianah" confusion in one of the chapters. I've finished writing my Frozen OC that time so my mind is there. That's why the confusion.
Secondly, I'd like to address the Salt issue. I do know that Salt is present at Westeros due to the Salt and Bread tradition. It is never said however (at least in the series) of how did Westeros get its salt? Thus I'd assumed here that Salt is not common as it is right now in the present day. If we check history, Salt and spices are worth their weight in gold during ancient times and that is where I am basing that reasoning. Salt is present at Westeros but it is not cheap. So if Rivendell produces it via modern salt making ways, they can earn themselves a pretty penny.
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Great Dome Library of Osgiliath
Edmure can feel beads of sweat falling down the back of his neck. Never in his entire life has he been so stressed as he rights now eye angrily the rather offending black pieces facing his white ones. Chess has become a popular sport for many of the generals of the Westeros, an invention of the ever brilliant Lady of Rivendell herself. Many famous warriors, knights and even foreigners tend to make the long journey to Osgiliath every once in a while if only to meet and learn Chess players from many veterans. Chess after all is almost a simulation of an orderly war.
The reason however that Edmue is here sweating his butt off voluntarily is due to one reason and one reason only, Amelia. The Castellan of Rivendell is proud, strong and extremely skilled. Edmure simply is head over heels for her. Every time she beats him on the training yard or mock him during drills, sometimes literally drumming his ass with a sword before kicking him in the mud only increases his attraction for her.
Is Edmure masochistic? Only he knows the answer to that, but the truth however remains that he would do his best and utmost to win the Lady Amelia's heart.
He already knows that puffing out his chest and trying to impress her with his title as heir of Riverrun would not work. She is after all the Castellan of Rivendell and though many of the other kingdoms would never admit it, the wealth and prestige of Rivendell alone can challenge even some of the kingdoms. Edmure has to count his lucky stars that her sister is the Lady of Rivendell and deeply respected by the Lady Amelia. He's got a feeling that if not for that, she would not even glance at his general direction.
Thus the reason why he has literally strong armed his father into letting him train at Rivendell. Hoster is only to pleased with the suggestion. Edmure of course benefits three ways for this. First of all, despite the general consensus that he is quite dumb, he is not. He can see the precarious position that the Riverlands is being put in. The love and hate relationship of Rivendell against the entirety of Westeros is a balance due to need of its unique resources, alliances and its proving of might and tenacity by not backing down one inch During the War of the Faith. In shorter terms, the rest of the kingdoms only back off due to the tenacity of the Central Kingdom's bite. With his presence here, the familial alliance of him and Delianah will always be present. After all she is his blood.
Secondly, with relations to Rivendell close, the Riverlands or specifically Riverrun can have first dibs on the goods that come out of the economic powerhouse that is Rivendell and its territories. Cheaply to compared to the rest. Edmure still feels that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest as he remembers the sourpuss look of Old Walder Frey as the slimy imbecile attempts to buy the same "premium price" from the merchants of Rivendell privileged only for Riverrun.
Thirdly and most importantly (for Edmure at least), this gives him the perfect excuse of winning over the Lady Amelia without being brushed off like a speck of dirt, due to his status as the brother of her Lady. One way or another he will have plenty of tries of impressing her. Unfortunately it seems he has to cross off chess soon; he has played thirty games and lost all after all with little bit of effort from his opponents.
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Rivendell Private Quarters
The bright lights of the morning ushered in by the morning sun gleefully kiss the silky soft sheets of the Lady of Rivendell. For her guest, it is a signal to start to wake up already. Bleary eyed, Myrcella opens her eyelids to the sight of a golden sunrise drifting through the beautiful arches of the open-aired balcony.
She groans as she can feel the soreness all over her body making itself known. She's not surprised, the things it has been subjected to last night has been more than enough to wear her down. Both her arse and her maidenhood has been thoroughly used. Delianah is an awesome lover and Myrcella is happy to let herself be subjected to seventh heaven in twelve different ways.
"Speaking of which, where is she?" Myrcella wonders to herself as she now notice the empty space which she has been clinging to last night.
"Glad you are awake Cella, I would hate it if I eat all of this in my own," the musical voice of Delianah Tully makes Myrcella turn her head at the small side door where Delianah's private kitchen can be found.
Her voice however clamps on her throat at the sight of a very naked Lady of Rivendell approaching her with a tray of bacon and fries which she places at the side of the bed. After seeing (and ravishing) her body last night, Myrcella is still dumbstruck about how beautiful Delianah is. Toned stomach, curvaceous body, perky breasts and a tight arse, she can still recall how each of that feels, and it is taking all of her self-control not to jump her right now.
"While I would want nothing more than us to take another tumble on the sheets Cella, I suggest that you eat something first. We have gone kind of overboard last night after all," says Delianah with a grin taking one of the fries into her lips. Once more Myrcella is entranced as she observes the fries disappears into her mouth's depth. Those lips have been more than wonderful last night.
She "eeps" though as Delianah pokes a couple of fries into her mouth making her cough and glare at the good-natured look that the Lady of Rivendell is giving her.
"After this Myrcella, we can continue with our fun activities. For now, eat,"
Pouting, Myrcella acquiesces as she eats the fries. As usual the natural blend of cooking mastery that the Lady of Rivendell exhibits is perfect and she counts her lucky stars of being one of the most privileged at that. She is totally caught by surprise however as without warning Delianah claims her lips once more, her tongue brushing that of Myrcella's. Whatsoever thought of food promptly disappears after that, as the two of them continues their dance of passion from last night.
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Rivendell Training Yards
The sounds of blades clashing against one another are a common sound to be heard in this place. The training yard of the Last Homely House is reserved for only one group only, the Death Dealers, the Royal Bodyguards of the Lady Delianah herself. Each soldier specializing on a weapon of his own choice, these warriors are the best that Westeros has ever seen, their mettle proven many times during the War of the Faith and the Greyjoy Rebellion.
Only five people are an exception to this rule. The Lady Delianah herself, the Lady Castellan, Amelia, the Princess Myrcella, Yasmina the Concubine, and Rhaenys upcoming Champion of Rivendell. Though out of the five of them only three regularly comes here to hone their skills.
Right now however the usually training Death Dealers are cheering as the Lady Amelia and Rhaenys is duking it out against one another in training leathers. Rhaenys is a master of dual wielding while Amelia uses the rare combination of crossbow and sword fighting at the same time.
Rhaenys simply smirks as she is once more forced to jump sidewards as the short bolts of Amelia rushes past her. Experience not her own from Ser Arthur Dayne tells her that trying to "bat" away crossbow bolts with her sword is a last measure. The risk is too great and though possible, she should never bank her life on chances. It takes one mistake on her part for such a maneuver and she'll end up dead. Thus the focus on dodging which is the lesser evil.
Right now though she snakes forward like a viper jumping right and left as more practice bolts from Amelia zip past her. At sixteen years old, Rhaenys like Myrcella looks a lot like nineteen, coming early fully into her own body. Lithe frame and built like a whipcord with strong muscles, her fighting stance is that of speed and agility.
Her opponent on the other hand and former teacher hast the most unique fighting style. She utilizes a hand held retractable crossbow which she straps to her thighs. Able to accommodate in rapid fire ten bolts, she incorporates her technique into fighting with it and using her sword to parry and block before jumping off. The hand held crossbow is powerful and Amelia's way of reloading it via pre-prepared bolts strapped all over her form means that in battle, it only takes one shot to kill or at worst disable an enemy.
The sudden pain in her ribs makes Rhaenys groan followed by the same sound coming from the rest of the observing Death Dealers. Money changes hands and soon the watching crowd returns back to their training and duties leaving her and Amelia alone.
Grinning, the pale-colored beauty approaches her with a hand held forward which Rhaenys poutingly accepts as she helps her up.
"Good job Rhaenys. Give it a decade or two and you might even be able to touch me with your blade," smirks Amelia at the pouting girl.
"One of these days Amelia, I will be able to get you,"
Her response only earns her a laugh from Amelia who pats her arm affectionately. "Keep on dreaming Rhaenys. Now come, I still have some duties left and you can take your rest before trying to help the Princess Amelia once more find her own Gryphon,"
"Alright, alright, and I know you only make these excuses about duties because you want to see Edmure!" Rhaenys calls out at the retreating Amelia who only giggles before disappearing at a corner.
A soft coo along with a gentle bump at her shoulder makes Rhaenys turn to pat the massive head of her Gryphon who closes its eyes in pleasure. Colored black and silver, the giant bird preens at the attention.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry I lost Ser Arthur," sighs Rhaenys stroking the underchin of the massive avian.
If Gryphons can laugh, this one just does as it makes choking sounds. Laying down on his side, Rhaenys accepts the invitation on leaning at the warm feathers of her friend and partner. She's not surprised that she keeps losing to Amelia, it is one of the reasons why she keeps sparring with her in the first place.
Rhaenys is not blind, the more she gets instinctive learning on wielding her swords, the more she sees less of the ghost of Ser Arthur before he finally disappears from her life. She's not stupid, she manages to put two and two together with the realization that everything that he is, is now on her. Of course she's saddened. Ser Arthur has been a major present in her life. She surprises herself by being able to get over it easily. The constant presence of her sisters-in-heart at Rivendell assuages the pain of losing her eternal guard and strength.
Now with the parting gifts of the deceased Dragon Kingsguard at her disposal, Rhaenys finds herself to be the best sword-mistress at Rivendell with no one able to match her. Thus she opts to challenge Amelia every now and then. The unique fighting style of the Castellan always ends up with Rhaenys losing. In a way she wants this since it grounds her and prevents her from being arrogant. Plus this also gives her the right incentive not to be hit with a bow.
She is promptly brought out of her musings as a hand grabs her wrist without warning pulling her to her feet.
"What the-,"Rhaenys squawks at the same time as her surprised Gryphon who also reacts before recognizing who it is holding its mistress before going back to its passive lazy state.
"Let me guess, you slept with her?" asks Rhaenys at the grinning princess who looks like she's hyped up on sugar.
At her nod, Rhaenys finds herself in the dilemma of either congratulating her friend from her life long desire or groaning at the future can of worms that this new dilemma will create.
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Rivendell Topmost Tower House
Delianah stands alone as she stands above. In this raised height, the entirety of the lands of Rivendell and its territories can be laid out down below. This is probably her most favorite section on the entirety of Rivendell. It is a constant reminder of how far she has gone ever since when she first arrived here, a bastard of the Lord Tull, slated for a life of misery ever since her birth with no future.
Now she stands here, Lady of the most powerful kingdom of Westeros (in her opinion at least), commanding millions of citizens with her reach from one end of Planetos to the other. She makes a mental note to make something commemorate her name to the ages.
Now one might think that she is here because she's worried for the future due to her tryst with the Princess of the Realm, unfortunately that is the farthest from the truth. Delianah is not worried that Myrcella creeps her way to her bed. In fact Delianah has zero notions on stopping the continuation of that. She means who would stop her?
The King despite being a bad father truly loves his daughter and seeing how Myrcella is so happy around her presence, plus her rather successful growth mentally and physically, it would be not take that much of a push for jolly king Robert to roll over for their union. The king after all is not blind to how poorly he has done for a father and this would be giving her daughter the happiness she desires.
The queen is a hurdle but not that big as far as Delianah is concerned. Delainah already knows that there is no way in Seven Hells Cersei Lannister would approve of their union. Seriously, Delianah believes that said queen is rather off in the head. She fucks her own brother, cuckold her own husband and rather does not want any of her children to slip from her grasp. Yet as powerful as the she-lion's position is, Delianah knows that she won't be able to do much against her or Myrcella. The true king of House Lannister after all have good relations with Rivendell, much trade being its current pillar for the House's success. For all his cold cruelty and pragmatism, never let it be said that Tywin Lannister is a bad businessman.
As to the real reason as to why Delianah is here standing at the top of Rivendell contemplating, is for one simple reason. She can feel it, the foul magic that brings the icy cold up North. One way or another she knows that this upcoming winter would be unlike any other,
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Riverrun, Riverlands
Hoster Tully sighs tiredly as the Maester places a wet cloth on his forehead in an effort to alleviate the rising fever that is slowly eating from the inside. Groaning, he wordlessly tries to pull the covers to his body even more in an attempt to lessen the cold currently seeping over his bones. These chills have been a constant in the past year or so.
James Potter has always known that one way or another, his life here would not be long especially since he chose the body of Hoster Tully to inhabit in order to be close to his daughter. He does not regret one second of it, his life here with Delianah has been one that he would not trade for anything else, except maybe his time with Lily.
Despite not having grand ambitions as his daughter, Hoster would rather like to believe that he accomplished many good things during his stint here. For starters, after dosing (and not regretting it one bit) Edmure and turning him to a confident young man with high resolve, he also manages to reconnect with his brother, the Blackfish, Ser Brynden. James never has a brother in his life. Thus to have a younger one now is fascinating, with some help from Delianah, Hoster also finally manages to unite the Riverlands in some way that would at least make them fight with one another instead of against each other if another kingdom attacs. Suffice it to say that when he sent a letter to the Knight of the Bloody Gate stating how proud he is of him and how much he loves him, Ser Brynden pops on his door a week later wondering if his older brother got poisoned that made him brain addled.
Hoster as far as James notices has the issues of pride and ambition. It would not be a problem if he is someone like Delianah who has the cheat code of magic and the enlightenment of the Twenty-First Century. Hoster however is born at probably one of the weakest kingdoms of Westeros with no strong foundation and rivals seeking to supplant him. Instead of strengthening his position, the man's pride causes more problems than solutions. The only thing that previous Hoster has successfully going for him is his success in marrying off his two daughters to future Lord Paramounts (though secret messages from Delianah tells that right now, the Lady of Eyrie is plain bonkers).
Right now however despite the slowly ailing body of his, Hoster Tully grips the note delivered to him by one of the Hidden Ones from Rivendell. As he reads it, he mentally groans knowing then and there that despite being ill, he would need to drag his sorry ass up and take this warning from his daughter seriously.
"Father, cold winds are rising from the North, magic, foul and powerful I can feel there. Prepare your people father for Necromancy seems to be at work here in a large scale. Winter is coming and the dead comes with it,"
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Author's Note: Hello so I will try to continue this story once again and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will try to update more constantly now if I can. Please look over Songs of Red Hair and Magic for it is my focus before deciding to continue here. Anyway love ya all readers. Thank you for the support as always.
This chapter is kinda more of a filler and a preparatory before we jump over plot parts all over again.
If you have any more questions or clarifications, please leave a a review and Ill try to answer it.