Chapter Fifty-Five
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Author's Note: First of all people, I wanna address this issue. Delianah's hair is black with a streak of red. I want to remain in that color since she looks like Scathatch from Fate. Unfortunately I kinda forgot which chapter is the pink one I originally posted. Can someone point it out to me so I might edit it out?
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Kingsroad Heading North
Draco watches through the slits of his helmet as the so-called Crown Prince of the Realm wobbles out of his tent, his arm on a sling. Cheers immediately greet him from the crowd of onlookers as he raises his damage free arm like some conquering hero able to survive a one on one duel with a dragon.
"What a bunch of boot lickers," he growls into himself as they congregate towards him, shaking his hand and congratulating him for being so brave.
Draco and his personal Citadel Guard have made a forced march towards here the moment a letter from an owl arrives from Rivendell informing him of the Lady's decision to accompany the king heading North. He has personally made this decision to ensure their Lady's protection. While he is confident about her skills, he can sleep better knowing that she is protected, especially with Amelia staying behind as Castellan. There is no way that he would let herself be present without some protection, especially with the Queen and her spawn. Those two have more lose screws than the entirety of Westeros combined according to the reports of the Hidden Ones.
Suffice it to say that the moment he gets here, he is totally surprised by the whispers and the rumors running around. It seems that the Crown Prince have tried attempting The Trial of Feathers, to get himself a Gryphon. He wants to shake his head at the report from the Death Dealers. Apparently the moron insulted his Gryphon, have the rest attack him, got his guard retinue torn to shreds, barely survived by being dragged around by his uncle, pissed and shat himself in fear. Braver men have attempted the Trial of Feathers and failed. There is no way in hell that the sadistic coward would be able to succeed.
The Royal Family of course both to hide the shame and the failure spins it in a way that would benefit them(at least Cersei did. All Robert does after Joffrey's shameful performance is too drink and get himself to a stupor).
According to the narrative set by the Queen, her son has personally challenged the Gryphon one on one before the rest of its ilk joined the fray. He has led his men into battle fighting back one step at a time till he is the only one that remains. He is found, bloodied and with a damaged right arm using a stick to fend off the giant birds. His uncle dragged him away after the Gryphons back off in recognition of his bravery. Unfortunately none of the Gryphons has apparently chosen him since they are just hungry and want a taste of what Royalty tastes like. That is why he is not a rider.
Draco resists the urge to vomit at the elaborate story-making spread by the Royal Family. One look at the arrogant little prick and the bullshit is pathetically obvious for anyone with half a brain. For some reason though, Draco can't help but compare the blonde little shit to another blonde little shit from another world who somehow looks extremely vaguely familiar.
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Royalty Tent
"I WANT THEM DEAD! ROBERT THOSE BEASTS HAVE DAMAGED MY LITTLE BOY! YOUR SON! TTHEY ShOULD BE PUT TO DEATH AND THEI HEADS BE MOUNTED ON THE WALLS! ROBERT GET YOUR FAT LARD UP! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?! ROBERT!"
Robert not for the last time resists the urge to grapple the head of his own wife and burst it like a melon, if only to shut her the hell up. Alas, her father has got Robert literally by the balls since half the kingdom owes a debt to the man. The only saving grace that he has right now is that he is deep in his cups already and thus the shouting and screaming of Cersei are nothing more than a background haze in his foggy mind. Thank god for Delianah Tully's strong whiskey. He's got a feeling that ale would not be up to the job of tuning out Cersei for long.
Unfortunately he is king and that means making sure that he responds lest the screeching harpy might do something that might backfire spectacularly on him. Why did he agree to Jon talking him to marrying the bitch anyway?
"ENOUGH!" Robert roars cutting whatever tirade that the woman is making.
Taking deep breaths, Robert tries to clear his fuzzy head and pull his thoughts together. "Listen here wife. We have a contract signed by ME that puts Rivendell into not being responsible or its constituents for Joffrey's inability, damage and injuries for the Trial. He willingly goes to get one of the bloody beasts, well he fucks up, he failed! Got it?!Rivendell is in no way liable for the hurts that our boy suffered during the test,"
"NO WAY LIABLE?! NO WAY LIABLE?!" Cersei seems to swell like a bullfrog. "YOU ARE THE KING ROBERT! CONTRACTS AND AGREEMENTS WOULD MEAN NOTHING SO IF YOU DECREE IT!"
Robert only blinks. More than anyone eh would agree that he is a bad king. He never expects that Cersei would be worse however. Breaking a safety contract of agreement with no liable cause or reason would set a bad precedent. No one would ever take him seriously much less trust him. As a Lord it would be disastrous, as a king it is like signing your own warrant to abdicate the throne.
"NO WAY AM I AGREEING THAT I BREAK THE CONTRACT I SIGNED BY MY OWN NAME WOMAN!" roars Robert finally fed up with this argument. "I AM THE KING AND I SHALL DO AS I PLEASE AND WHAT I SEEM RIGHT!"
"WELL IF YOU WON'T DO SOMETHING THEN I WILL! I WILL NOT HAVE OUR PRECIOUS SON CARRY THAT UGLY SCAR FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITHOUT SOME KIND OF RETRIBUTION. I WANT TO SEE SOME PUNISHMENT!"
"YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING WOMAN! UNLESS I SAY SO THERE WOULD BE NO MOVEMENT FROM YOU OR YOUR DAMNED FATHER-,"and thus the argument continues into the rest of the early morn much to the annoyance of the Kingsguard assigned outside who are forced to listen to every single word that the obviously mismatched couple has to throw at each other.
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Casterly Rock, Westerlands
The Lion's Mouth is the only highway in public knowledge at least that leads to the top of Casterly Rock. Most of the traffic that comes and goes of the Westerlands usually pass through here and it has borne witness to many mighty caravans that ever grace its pavements.
Right now however is a rare sight. Red Cloaks are present in great numbers and not just the usual random by the mill guards either that are commonplace at the Westerlands. These are Red Cloaks bearing the golden lion sigil at their left shoulder pauldrons, that signifies that they belong to the personal guard garrison of Tywin Lannister himself, the best of the best that can be found at the Westerlands. Their armor is the best that money can buy and same goes with their weapons. They are all trained knights, each one having deeds and tales of their own, the elite of what the Westerlands can muster. Riding on lean powerful horses of brown and grey, they are rarely seen outside of Casterly Rock's walls. It is the man however at the front of the column that makes their small procession so impressive.
There at the front of the column of riders sitting at the top of his white palomino horse, balding hair shining under the sunlight and armor beautifully polished and looking extremely expensive with a blood red sash is no one else but Tywin Lannister himself. The Lord of the Westerlands rarely leave his den but when he does, it is always with a purpose. Judging from the amount of spare horses, he bears, this trek would not be near like the capital but somewhere else.
"Are you sure that you are going to do this brother?" asks Kevan standing at the side of his brother's horse. There are few times that Kevan has seen Tywin Lannister looks ready to blow but this is one of those few rare times.
"I am. I've got a daughter to educate, a son-in-law that needs a long overdue conversation, a grandson that needs to be disciplined and a good talking, and finally a daughter-in-law who might be a new source of shame and trouble for our family, or the greatest asset that the Lannister name would have," sighs Tywin handing Kevan three letters.
The younger Lannister stares at them before frowning as he notices the crests. "Are these from….,"
"Yes," nods Tywin. "One is from my spies bearing news from the Capital, specifically Robert's procession heading North. The second one is from the Lady Delianah Tully herself detailing to me about the events that just recently happened there, specifically the actions of folly that Cersei sets in motion. Apparently the Lady Tully is worried that my daughter would not honor the contract of agreement and asks for my intervention before she causes irreparable damage. Finally the last one is from my granddaughter, Myrcella. She apparently proposed to someone without anyone's consent,"
Kevan almost choked at his own spit at that. "P-Proposed, what do you mean proposed brother? Like betrothal?" he asks unable to believe his own ears. Myrcella is a princess, she shouldn't have gone without the approval of her father, mother, and specifically her grandfather. He can't help but wonder if Myrcella has fallen to the oldest trap in their world which is romance and committed the same mistakes that Rhaegard does to Lyanna Stark.
"Yes, and this decision will either contribute to the breaking of our house, or gain us a powerful ally," answers Tywin darkly.
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Skies Above the Twins
Below Delianah can see the wide pavilions of the Royal Party haphazardly stretched out all over the Kingsroad while the more ordered tents set up by the Black Guard for Rivendell's retinue standing out like a sore thumb on the parades of tents. Not for the very first time, Delianah hates the environment of Westeros. The people here are so backwards, somewhat stuck somewhere between the Late Medieval Ages and the early start of the Renaissance. It seems also that they are so backwards in thinking. No great innovation has been made in centuries with little to no progress in this world.
While it is a loss for them, it is a golden opportunity that Delianah will not let pass on her fingers.
Currently though she is flying over the tents of the Royal Company. The Riverlands despite her generosity and aid is still the same stinking, country of mud, plant, dirt and animal smell. Her father despite her best efforts on egging him to put up the same measures as she seems to put little focus on her suggestions. Sure the agriculture and the castles of the Riverlands are full with the lords of the Riverlands somehow rather united in a way now compared to before. The castles and borders are also strengthened with trained soldiers now manning them instead of the ramshackle garrisons that they have before.
There is a reason why Delianah is here after all flying alone atop Godric alone. First of all Myrcella at her own behest elected to remain behind with the rest of the retinue of Rivendell down below to help them organize their camp tonight. Delianah wants to scoff at her flimsy reasoning. Setting up Camp in proper order is something that the Black Guard can do even with their eyes closed, add the rather small contingent of Knights of the Silver Order led by Ser Hector, a knighted bastard of the Riverlands who eschewed his own last name, sent by Grandmaster Leomord to accompany them North and the Rivendell Camp is already standing before their Westerosi counterparts can even finish hammering their pegs to the ground.
Somehow Delianah simply has a feeling that it is rather because Myrcella wants some private time with Yasmina down below. The princess after all despite her rather demure attitude and characteristic are rather voracious when it comes to bedroom activities. Delianah would not deprive her of her choice of partner, especially since said choice has grown into a great beauty also. She herself has partaken the joys of such beauty every now and then after all.
As for Delianah, this gives her the proper time to at least pursue her own personal interests without being bothered or burdened by the weight of responsibilities. Despite the comforts that Rivenell provide, the fact remains there however that she is queen of her own domain there. There are very rare occasions where she has her free time to herself. Such is the burden of leadership.
Fortunately though right now she has a golden opportunity that she doesn't want to waste, and one that might profit her in the long run.
Up ahead the tents of the king stands The Twins, the Seat of House Frey, the most unlikeable and untrustworthy of all the Houses of the Riverlands due to the actions of its current reigning Lord, Walder "The Late" Frey. While Delianah might suspect that original Lord Frey who has The Twins built is a brilliant man who sees the opportunity of making an investment in making a bridge through the Green Fork and putting two keeps that can fight off pushy upstart Lords and also serve as homes for the rest of his House, she doesn't believe that the current Frey there has the same brilliance.
Again this is an opportunity for Delianah. The Freys are one of the stronger Houses of the Riverlands and probably leads the last Houses who refuse to bow to the authority of her father. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for them, no one would really mourn them, much less miss them if let's say, someone assassinated the ruling family.
This also fulfills one of her most secret desires, or rather a lot of Hogwarts' students' secret desires that remain unfulfilled, the opportunity to get back at Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts. The Squib back home is a menace; grumpy, angry, and completely willing to take out his frustrations in life to many of the students. Personally Harry knows that he's willing to chain them with their ankles upside down if he is given the permission (Umbridge era (cough2x)). Unfortunately Filch passed away before any of the Hogwarts graduates' manage to find the courage to pull their revenge against the Squib.
Thus for the good of all Hogwartians, today Delianah would dish out the long awaited retribution. Filch might be dead but currently there sitting on two castles are a bunch-load of Frey look-alikes with a green pass for a free to all slaughter for anyone with the capability. Best thing is, no one in this world will even suspect her.
With a mighty CRACK! Delianah disappears leaving only her Gryphon flying on the air.
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Inside the Twins
Old Walder munches on his chicken greedily, wiping the gravy that comes down the mouth of his chin with the sleeves of his tunic. Around him as usual, his brood are dining with him, the opportunistic bastards. He knows that the moment he reels over they would start infighting before his body has even gone cold. Well, they would have to wait for a long time, Old Walder is not planning on dying anytime soon, no sir. He's still got a lot of women to fuck, and lords to swindle in this lifetime of his.
Down below he can see Black Walder fondling the tits out of a whore looking (and failing) to look like the Lady of Rivendell. The bastard of Hoster is a catalyst of great change apparently on the Riverlands. Ever since her victory over the War of Faith, she has laid climb to almost half of Riverlands. Nearly all of the territories East heading to the Vale are claimed by her. What's worse, she claimed them by right of victory through the war and thus no one can argue. She also commands one of the strongest military might currently at Westeros, and no one at the Riverlands are dumb enough to challenge her head-on.
Bastards, trouble they always are. Bad blood, always leads to bad things as the old saying goes. He himself might have a bastard or two of his own but Old Walder would never recognize them, much less legitimize them, no. That's just asking for trouble in the long run. Either way, the bastard however is a looker and has been a popular source for many whores at Westeros. Many lords apparently dig her looks and thus copycats of hers are easy to sell.
His musings however is rudely interrupted when out of nowhere, the roof of his keep exploded sending wood and shrapnel everywhere. Out of the hole created by the explosion, an extremely large figure comes crashing down at the middle of his hall landing heavily on the stoneworks. Everyone who has been blown off by the rather unexpected visitor's entrance immediately stands up on their feet drawing whatever weapons that they have on their person froms words to knives. The fall is so hard that it literally creates web cracks at the impact and more than one window has b. Old Walder nearly falls off his throne-like chair as he stares in no small amount of trepidation at the figure. Around him more guards of House Frey are appearing with spears, swords and bows all aimed at the figure.
What he sees in front of him nearly makes Old Walder wet his pants. There in front of him is an extremely large tall, bulk figure towering over them all. Dressed in all black, it is dressed weirdly with things that Walder can't even make a sense of. Black shining armor covered his entire bulk and a full cover on his head are seen, hiding even the eyes. No shade of flesh are seen. Behind him, a billowing cape of pure darkness flows.
"Wh-who are you?" Old Walder squeaks out in no small amount of fear of what seems to be the Stranger come to life to bring judgement. Judging from the rather nervous and terrified expression of his men, they share the same reservations as he does about this thing.
The only answer he gets is the sudden sound of mechanical breathing that sends the hairs from the back of his head to the tip of his butt to stand in attention in fear. As the giant black figure stands, ominously over them, a curtain of smoke bellows behind it.
Followed by the appearance out of nowhere by a red shining blade that lights up the entire fog behind it.
Death ahem….The Dark Lord of the Sith has come to bring judgement.
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Author's NoteL Thanks for the Reviews as always guys. It gives me happy tingles to read your Reviews and inspires me to update more.
PS: For those of you who loves this story, and enjoys stories and games like Call of Duty, Halo, Star wars, warhammer 40K, Mass Effect, warcraft, TRON, fantasy, sci-fi and the idea of dive gaming. I advise you to read my story "A HELPING HAND". Trust me you'll love it. It's one my more unique creations and I posted it at Ready Player One fanfic page thus it gets little notice unfortunately.