Chapter Sixty-Eight
…..
Rivendell Outskirts
"Home sweet home!" Myrcella happily exclaims as they finally reach the last stretch heading towards Rivendell. Delianah just smiles at the antics of the princess. While indeed she enjoyed running around North with all that politics and intrigue, she has to admit that there is a certain warm feeling when coming home.
Far ahead the glittering tall rise that is Rivendell stands bright and welcoming. Unlike the rest of the palaces here at Westeros, it is designed not to be intimidating but rather warm and dazzling like a warm bed at the end of the day. Beautiful white archways and pillars that gleams under the sun and the color of green standing out due to the countless trees and plants perch on the cliffs and its sides.
"You really missed Rivendell that much?" she simply asks her fiancé who grins brightly at her urging her horse forward. The two of them have elected to ride with the rest of their entourage on this last stretch home. While Gryphon travel would be easier and faster, it is always wise to honor those whom you rule with your presence every now and then.
"I do, and also my comfy bed. No offense, but the beds of the North have enough bed bugs that I have to burn my dress to make sure I got them all; and don't get me started on the one at the Crossroads Inn,"
"Can't argue with you on that one," answers Delianah. She has to admit that Myrcella has a point. The rest of the Westeros outside Rivendell is not as hygiene free thanks to the standards that Delianah is admant that her people keep.
A large piercing cry makes the two turn and smile as the familiar gold feathered Gryphon of Rhaenys soar above, circling twice before landing with a graceful thud in front of them, flexing its strong muscles.
"Hey there!" the Dornish beauty now jumps off smiling toothily at the two of them. "Am I late?" as usual she is wearing the familiar attires of the leather clad black guards which rather hugs her athletic figure perfectly. Unlike Myrcella, Rhaenys is a sword mistress and no part of her is demure or soft. Thanks to her training she is lean, strong, and beautiful like a rapier.
"Not quite, and that reminds me Cella, you owe me five Dragons for losing the bet. Rhaenys here after all is not late," chides Delianah making the princess pout before she acquiesces fishing five golden coins which she flicks at Delianah's open palm.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Delianah says smugly much to the annoyance of their subject.
"You bet on me being late?" she asks incredulously at the smug looking of the two women.
"What can I say, Myrcella here got bored on the road and asked for it. Of course she's regretting it now fully," points out Delianah making the princess scowl playfully before turning to Rhaenys, her countenance immediately brightending.
"Hi Rae-Rae! How's the North?"
…..
Rivendell, The White Tower
The White Tower of Rivendell is the highest point of the entire structure. At its tallest point is an open gazebo with large spaces. At its center is a circular table made of alabaster and marble of purest white. Only twice in its entire career has it been used. Once when Delianah summoned the entire forest full of magical creatures to rip apart the army of the Reach and Secondly when she opened that canal of the North. Only two ways can it be entered, one is through the winding stairs and secondly by Gryphon. Seeing four different colored Gryphons now slumbering on the wide spaces around the table, it is plenty obvious what the current method of entrance its participants have used.
"Does it hurt, come on Amelia you have to tell us-,"
"Where did you say that sword hit you again?"
"I can't thank you enough for your-,"
"Come on! I'm the one who asked first, wait your own turn!"
"She's still hurt don't prod and poke too much,"
"Delianah says that you fought against-,"
"That can wait Rae-Rae-,"
"But I'm interested in the fight between…..,"
Delianah simply stares fondly at the participants currently catching up. Amelia is finally up and about, finally received by the healers from the Houses of Healing. Normally any person who suffered the same catastrophic damage as she did being stabbed, slashed and nearly burnt to a crisp might look anything but mummified in the event that they survive. With the skill and the obvious hack that is magic, the Healers of the Houses of Healing have successfully restored Amelia to her previous health though she still looks cherry red on the outside, courtesy of skin growing potions.
This of course makes her the fuss of nearly all the other girls. Delianah simply stares in amusement as they dog pile her out of concern much to the awkwardness of the usually stern and serious soldier. Delianah tends to forget that Amelia is the first of her companions and family of Lord Viktor who is a no-nonsense over achiever type of guy.
She can't help but look at her girls. Each and every one of them is as different to each other as one could ever be; yet for some reason they fit each other perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. She observes them silently now. Amelia in her Death Dealer attire beautiful and orderly as always despite still being peaky, Rhaenys in her form fitting Black Guard outfit completely different from the gloomy depressed girl she is before, Myrcella as radiant as the sunshine dresses she likes having a positive outlook on things always, and finally Yasmina in her traditional Yi Ti red outfit as alluring as ever.
"Alright that's it," Delianah calls out to the rest who are almost glomping the full Death Dealer with womanly concern, only to be ignored.
Frowning, she puts a little bit of magic in her throat before loudly exclaiming: "THAT'S ENOUGH!" stopping whatever activity that is going on as all stares at her before blushing abashed and slowly returning to their places in the table.
"Alright, sorry about that but there are some things that we need to discuss here ladies of great importance," Delianah says officially earning her a snort from Myrcella at her side.
"Something so funny in what I am saying Cella?" she asks raising an eyebrow at her fiancé who is trying not to laugh.
"Do you really have to sound like that Delia?" she asks chokingly making Delianah deflate like a kicked puppy.
"Do you really have to ruin my fun Cella? Look at Amelia and Rae-Rae who is sitting ramrod in attention and all," Delianah points out at the two who is indeed sitting in attention, their training at the Black Guard and Death Dealers kicking in. Delianah might not say it but she approves of their reactions. The time and effort she invested on them has not been in vain.
"Relax the two of you, Delia is just being uppity and all due to us being overbearing at Amelia," waves off Myrcella to the blushing of the two at their reactions as they went back to their relaxed postures.
Delianah clears her throat however as indication that she wants to talk. "First of all, while we are here, let us celebrate our dear Amelia's full recovery," Delianah pauses as everyone claps and cheers much to the embarrassment of their subject who bows her head in silent thanks to her.
"We are glad to have you back Amelia so please, do refrain from running headlong to a fire again while naked will you?" adds Delianah making everyone laugh as Amelia merely takes the jab in good humor.
"Secondly, let us say that I am glad that we are all here back together again, each and every one of us," Delianah says in seriousness. She's rather glad as each of her friends look at each other fondly before returning to her their attention.
"Unfortunately while it is tempting that we stay here in comfort while the world goes around us on its own. I fear that we would not be afforded that leisure I'm afraid. Things are in motion that cannot be undone and I'm afraid that it revolves around you Cella dear,"
"Me?" blinks the golden haired princess in confusion. "I thought that my grandfather already agreed to our betrothal,"
The sound of someone spitting makes every eye turn towards Rhaenys who has spit out the wine she has been drinking.
"Betrothal, the two of you?" the Dornish beauty asks in confusion making Amelia roll her eyes at her.
"If you spend more time being observant than beating men black and blue on the field then you might also noticed these two making calf eyes at one another,"
"We've progressed from that, we are sleeping with one another now Rae-Rae!" declares Myrcella unabashedly ignoring the jaw drop that her friend is making. "Oh and we also tend to bring Yasmina along if she is feeling rather jealous,"
"What?!"
"It's true," answers the Asian beauty sagely as she sips her tea from her cup. "Lady Delianah is a passionate lover,"
"I-I-I-, am I the only one who doesn't know?" blinks Rhaenys in confusion looking at her friends who is giving her smug looks.
"Don't worry Rae-Rae. It's not your fault that you are unattentive….
"Quite dumb sometimes,"
"Thick,"
"Lacking a sexual life,"
"Yasmina that's not fair for Rae-Rae!"
"Being a virgin,"
"Alright! Alright! Alright! Enough from all of you," Rhaenys waves her arms off up and down before sitting down pouting with all the victorious looks from her friends.
Delianah just grins at the interaction before deciding to go back to the point. "As I am saying before. No, Cella, it is not because of the betrothal though I would bet that it would rain hell and high water once word gets out to the rest of the kingdom. Your grandfather, and in comparison House Lannister however would stand with us on that,"
"If it is not the Westerosi being prude due to the teachings of the Faith then I don't what other reason there is that would cause an uproar that revolves around our dear Cella here," mutters Amelia.
"Maybe it's because our dear old jolly King Robert plans to announce that our dear Cella here would be queen of Westeros after his passing,"
"Yeah right that would be….," Amelia's words drift off as the words seem to register finally to her brain making her turn to stare at Delianah who is looking victoriously at the rather disbelieving faces aimed at her.
"Please don't make jokes like that luv," says Myrcella with a small smile (that is obviously forced).
"Oh but I am not," answers Delianah folding her hands beneath her chest as she leans backward. "My sources are rather trustworthy and let me be the first to say: Hail Princess Myrcella heiress to the Iron Throne, future queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may she reign!"
"Hail!" three other voices repeats much to the chagrin of a certain princess whose face seems to go into a dozen emotions in a scant few seconds before standing up and slamming her palms down hard on the table.
"NO! This is…This is wrong Delia, I- I don't…Please tell me it's not true," her eyes are literally begging as it is aimed at Delianah.
Delianah sighs as she pinches the bridge of her nose. This is why she doesn't like getting attached to political figures. Emotions tend to skew the pragmatic decisions that she tends to use. She has expected this of course, Myrcella's reaction. The young royal simply has no desire to sit on the ghastly Iron Throne. Delianah on the other hand views this as the perfect opportunity where she can finally put some of her major plans in order.
What Divination skills she has in her previous life (Can't blame his rather lack of skill due to Trelawney's lackluster skill on the subject back at Hogwarts) all points to a coming shatter point at the North and none of it are good. Delianah would bet all the Valyrian weapons she is hoarding right now that those bloody ice tosser zombies are involved.
While he acknowledges that she is all around awesome, Delianah is not stupid to admit that she's not all-powerful. While a good application of Fiendfyres she is sure would take down many of the bloody tosssers, no magical core is powerful enough to channel Fiendfyre that can take down a few thousand lest one merge with a ley line. Last time a wizard tried that at the Stonehenge with protective runes, he turned himself to dust and blasted half the continent with enough confundus spells that resulted to the Fall of the Roman Empire due to drastically changed attitudes of their politicians and generals for the next generation or so.
There is just no way that Delianah would allow that incest born mad psycho of a kid to sit on the Iron Throne. Not with such a shatterpoint event coming so soon for this world, no. Normally a well-placed slashing curse on the throat would solve the problem, however that would be opening a can of worms that would be simply too much of a hassle to clean up. No, other than going the direct route and throwing Joffrey off the nearest tower, Delianah would use this opportunity presented to her to take out the other "ambitious contenders" coming for the throne. It would be killing two birds with one stone. One is making sure that Myrcella's starting transition would be clean and orderly, and secondly get revenge against the incestuous bastard. She would never forgive him, not after all that he has put Myrcella through. Delianah is rather protective of what she claims as hers, and she rather liked the princess.
"I'm afraid it is no joke Cella. Your father plans to give the announcement that you will be his heir once the tourney for Lord Stark is finished,"
"B-but I am not fit to be queen! I'm just me," insists Myrcella who seems to be in a verge of a panic attack. "The Lords, would they even support my father's decision? A woman had never sat on the Iron Throne,"
"The reason you're you is why you are the perfect candidate for the throne Cella. You are a good administrator and you know how to care for other people. Besides it's not as if you will be alone in this stand that you are going to make. The might of Rivendell and all it's allies will be with you Cella. Leave the matters of politics and problems to us all. You just focus on what you do best and win everyone's hearts," declares Delianah internally anime cheering at the confidence that is slowly being returned to the face of the golden princess.
"Besides, it's not as if the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms will work out with the other options Cella. Can you really imagine what would happen if your younger brother, Joffrey took the throne or Tommen? One is a wildfire just waiting to blow up causing damage to everyone around it while the other is a weakling, no offense of course," points out Rhaenys making everyone wince, Myrcella most of all at the imagination of Joffrey being king. One can almost see the entirety of the Seven kingdoms toppling down like a deck of cards.
"You'll do as a fine queen Cella, I know it," smiles Yasmina demurely finally sealing the deal as the beautiful blonde sighs tiredly before nodding.
"Fine, I'm doing it. I am not however taking my seat on that cesspit of a city. If I am going to be queen, I am staying here," she insists.
"We will go into that later Cella," waves off Delianah quite amused and proud that Myrcella prefers Rivendell than King's Landing (for good reason)
"For now though, I would declare Rivendell to be in a state of readiness, as to the reason why…," Delianah raises a hand to stave off the round of questions that appear immediately on everyone's lips.
"Tensions have never been high in Westeros. No offense Myrcella bust as likeable as your father is, he simply is a bad ruler, period. The Seven Kingdoms are heavy with debt, alliances are almost non-existent and the Great Houses deeply mistrust each other No matter who is named as the next king or queen would face immediate opposition. The two Baratheon brothers, Stannis and Renly would vie for the throne once Robert kicks the bucket which would not be far due to his current vices. The Reach unfortunately would support Renly,"
"No surprises there, the Reach plays Queen Maker for many a generation and they never truly have gotten over the fact that the Lannisters dominate the court. There's also the relationship between Loras and Renly," points out Amelia.
"Which would give Renly command over the largest kingdom of Westeros and almost a hundred thousand levies and knights. Untested but numbers always have their worth on the battlefield," adds Rhaenys.
"Wait, I thought Renly is the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Won't they also support him?" asks Myrcella.
"The Stormlords don't give five shits about Renly, Cella," snorts Yasmina. "Your uncle is a buffoon and the Storm Lords respect strength and leadership. No, if they would support someone, it would be Stannis. The man is a military leader and has a good reputation that was renewed during the Greyjoy Rebellion and the War of the Faith. Your other uncle unfortunately has evidence of a rumor that apparently you and your siblings are children of incest and would make a try on the throne himself,"
"Wait, what but that's-,"
"A matter that I would discuss with you later Cella," Delianah cuts off sternly pushing down the guilty feeling at the expression on Myrcella's face. "I promise, you and I will talk,"
"Fine, but you will tell me about this," she glares (cutely in Delianah's opinion).
"Of course, your majesty," Delianah chuckles simply at the annoyed pout at her expression. "We are not all without allies of course. Dorne can care less. They have hated the Baratheons and the Lannisters for so long and we can count little on their support. The Vale would be unable to act, not with that mad-woman of a sister of Catelyn sitting as interim. The Westerlands, the Riverlands and the North however would support and that would be more than enough. It is still a vexing matter however with half the Kingdoms duking it out with one another, it would not be pretty,"
"Please tell me that you have a plan for this Delia. The last thing that I want is to inherit a kingdom torn by war," whispers Myrcella.
Delianah just smiles confidently as she stands up. "Did you forget Cella? I am the woman who makes the impossible, possible,"
…..
Red Keep
Joffrey walks back and forth in his royal apartments fuming with anger. One of his eyes are red and swollen due to the cup that his father flung at him when he walked on him during his "Happy time". He wants to vent out and rage, a true lion as his mother tends to call it but he can't. It is his father after all.
With his mother gone, Joffrey has rather found himself alone. It is his mother after all who makes the plans usually and Joffrey just struts along doing his thing. Now with his mother gone, Joffrey rather finds himself in a precarious position of not knowing what to do.
The sudden knock at his door however nearly makes Joffrey jump.
"Who is it?" he barks out loud.
"It's the Master of the Coin your highness, Petyr Baelish," the guard replies.
"What is he here for? He never visited before," Joffrey wonders before clearing his throat. "Let him in,"
Not two seconds later, the door opens with the man entering with a sweeping bow. "Greetings your highness. My apologies for the surprise visit but I have heard of your injury from your visitation of the king and have come to inquire of your health,"
"I am fine Master Baelish, but I thank you for your worry," sniffs Joffrey proudly.
"As expected of the Crown Prince of course your highness but I am relieved to hear of your good health. As a loyal servant of the Crown, I am here to offer my services to you your highness. in any way capable. After all I heard some rumor that your sister would be appointed as next heir of the Iron Throne by your father one of these days,"
As Joffrey sees red in anger and outrage, he never sees the sly smirk that appears on Baelish's face beneath his bow.
…..
Author's Note:
Hallo soo sorry for the long updates. Hope ya like this chapter. Busy roaming around in Red Dead Redemption 2 World soooo sorry for the long waiting.