Chapter Seventy-Five

….

Castle Riverrun, Riverlands

Hoster Tully (with James' Potter soul inside it) has always known that the long peace set by the King ever since the end of the Second War of the Faith would not be stable for long. Long and bitter history of Earth has taught James enough that Feudalism type of society is not one for long periods of time. Even back home when there is a pope during the Feudal Ages to unite the scattering kingdoms to a single goal of a crusade, the peace never lasts long enough. The only reason why the Targs managed to bring their long peace to Westeros is because they have the fire breathing lizards who has no qualms scorching to dust anyone who doesn't agree with them.

Now here they all are in a continental wide slugfest of trouble with almost every kingdom to itself. All in all, it is a large disaster in the making.

Hoster of course has not been idle simply eating, shitting and sleeping during his final tenures in life. Other than making sure that Edmure is sufficiently dosed by potions of Courage and Fortitude that repaired the setup of the Tully family, he has also done his best to reining in many of the Riverlords to his point of view about letting go of their hostile view to Delianah and Rivendell.

Hoster's argument after all is simple and basically can be boiled down to: "Our nearest neighbor is the Westerlands which is stronger in every way compared to us. Now in our current state, do you really want an enemy also on the East or a strong ally that we can call upon in our time of need?"

Thus begrudgingly, the Riverlords acquiesce. Though however Hoster would bet that it's more of the fact that they are slowly going poor due to the rather bad business of selling their produce to the rest of Westeros. The North after all (before the rather bad blood caused by Catelyn) relied heavily on the shipments of Rice from Rivendell while buying sparsely from the Riverlands. The Reach has turned their eyes on feeding everyone else that's left. This left the Riverlands in a tricky position. Hoster has graciously "negotiated" with his daughter that they be able to rent out her ships and sell them at Essos where food is always in demand. As a result, the Main House of Tully earns a fair bit of coin at each transport of food.

As for the Westerlands, Hoster has not been negligent of them.

When Tywin was alive, he had little cause of worry due to the understanding between the Old Lion and his daughter. He still however made measures for the worst, and it would serve them well now. The Riverlands after all cannot stand up to the might of the West even before it's sundering. Now with it barely able to muster fifteen thousand men (levies included), they were in a pickle. They can still do some damage however and Hoster had entrusted that preparation they had to the more capable and young Edmure. He was old after all and was now dying as this body slowly recognized that its time had come.

…

Tully Secret Camp Somewhere Near the Golden Tooth

Edmure walks to the gathering which is situated in a secret of caves where a large area opens up with a large crack from above letting the sunlight inside the clearing underground. Here nearly three hundred trappers, hunters, and slingers have been forcefully recruited under the fifty or so experienced Hunters trained by Hoster Tully. If there is one thing that the Riverlands has in abundance is wildlife and small game exactly. This results to a fair amount of its populace to be hunters by trade, knowing instinctively to creep in silence instinctively. Most importantly however, any self-respecting hunter knows the value of patience which is what Edmure and his father has been aiming for.

They have already gotten word after all about the falling out of King's Landing and the marshal of the Westerlands with their main army swiftly assembling on the outskirts of the Golden Tooth. There is no hope for the Riverlords to beat an army composed of nearly thirty thousand swords thanks to the large numbers of mercenaries in tow with the local levies of the West.

Not all is bad news of course. Owls from Rivendell already brought the message that the Crown Princess Myrcella herself is leading the van with the entirety of the Black Guard legions of Rivendell and that also of Osgiliath. That is at least fifteen thousand men, something that Edmure is looking forward to. They have after all a reputation of beating armies larger than them. Better news however is that the Castellan of Rivendell, Amelia would also be with the Crown Princess and boy does it makes his heart soar.

Right now however, Edmure has a duty to do, and that means delaying the Lannister shits as best as he can and allow the Legions of Rivendell to arrive without the fucking Kingslayer rampaging on his home.

"In any battle! When you have the larger force, you attack! Straight forward! You stab him in front!" Edmure shouts in instruction as every eye of the three hundred and fifty focus at him. "When you are the one with the lesser force however, you strike! From the side! From the back! You attack the vein that supplies the heart! Either way, the heart ends up dead the same way,"

"What do you mean Lord Edmure? We steal their food?" asks one of the hunters.

"Somewhere close, we attack the army supply lines, their comfort, their food, their water. In any ways, we plan for them to stop and advance no more. NO MORE!"

"NO MORE!"

"NO MORE?"

"NO MORE!"

Edmure just smiles at the enthusiasm that his men are showing. "Good! Then we begin tomorrow. The fuckers sail their small ships on our rivers as if they own them. Let us remind them who truly owns this land eh?"

…..

Dol Amroth, the North

Beautiful flags and banners of the Blue Swan flying in a white field flutters over the ships of Dol Amroth. Currently in its entirety, a fleet of almost a hundred Longships alongside twenty massive Galleons repurposed for war are ready to take the host of almost five thousand men to war.

At the head of the first longship with the swan banner wearing a circlet stands tall and proud in his ornate silver armor gleaming in the sunlight, the Custodian of Dol Amroth, Jon Stark. At his back flutters a cape of pure sky blue like the very waters of the seas while his head is covered with a helmet with a wing design to it on its sides hiding everything but the slits of his eyes.

It is a good thing for Jon that his helmet covers all else everyone would see his expression that is caught between fear and confidence.

It has been a fortnight since the letter arrived from Rivendell calling them all to war in support for Princess Myrcella as Crown Princess of Westeros. Jon has been updated of course about the going ons in King's Landing. Dol Amroth is a hub in the North for trade and mercantile which results to a lot of visitors from the other kingdoms and countries. With them of course is the news. Thus it is no shock to him about the war that is to come.

As for Jon, he is filled with righteous zeal and hatred about going to war against the fop currently sitting his pretty ass on the throne. Joffrey has his father killed alongside the jolly King Robert, Jon would want nothing more than to impale him on the throne he is sitting on. In fact Jon almost picks up his sword and would have joined Robb and the North's march down South if not for Yggrite literally slapping the sense into him to remind Jon that he has duties as Custodian of Dol Amroth and he cannot just up and leave like the bastard he used to be. It stung, but Jon acquiesced.

Then the orders from South came and Jon is only too happy to comply.

Nearly every fighting man of Dol Amroth has been called to arms with many of the fairer gender coming also. Four Thousand in all, a mix of Westerosi, Essosi and Yi Ti descent board the ships in preparation for the war down South. Their orders after all are simple, they are to engage Stannis Baratheon and basically be a nuisance to the fanatic dour Stag at the moment before heading off to cut Joffrey's head.

Jon would be lying he says that he is not afraid. He is almost quaking in his boots despite his rather confident pose and positioning at the helm of the fleet. This is the first time he is going to war after all. He clamps down hard on his negative feelings though and thought of his father killed down South so unjustly, replacing the fear with anger and desire for revenge.

He would kill them all. Robb would have to forgive him if he plunges his sword on Joffrey's heart first.

…

Rivendell, Hamlet's Town

The sound of thousands of boots marching in perfect unison is the very epitome of the Black Guard legions. Well trained, disciplined and knowledgeable in the art of war. Now line upon line of black clad legionnaires in their circular shields parade down as the roll call is being called. Company upon company, squad upon squad officers do the final checks for the march down South.

Myrcella cannot fathom how such large numbers would be willing to fight and die for her alone. Back then during the War of the Faith, they are fighting for Delianah and it is understandable. However right now, they are fighting for her, a princess for the crown and not for their lady whom they are fanatical about. She can't help but wonder if her time here at Rivendell has endeared her to them. Either way it is a fascinating sight that makes her rather proud and confident of herself.

"Twenty thousand men, good work Lord Marcus," comments Delianah to the Elder making Myrcella hold back the snigger that threatens to come out of her mouth even as the Elder of the Green Men almost kow tows in thanks of the admiring words that the Lady of Rivendell has given him.

Apparently by some inane miracle, Lord Marcus has successfully managed to hide the operation of training another ten thousand reserves that could be added to the Black Guard legions in a heartbeat. In short they are auxiliaries, more brawlers than fighters trained from the very lands controlled by Rivendell. They all in all adds very well to a grand total of twenty thousand men in the Legions alone.

Delianah might maintain a poker face, but Myrcella can see that beneath the veneer of a smile and pride, the Lady of Rivendell is irritated for being kept in the dark for a mere surprise. Myrcella makes a note to tease her relentlessly once things have settled down and Delianah has put all her enemies into the ground.

A powerful screech makes itself known and Myrcella smiles at the sight of their Gryphons landing on the open space within their area. There are four of them all in all, each as majestic as the rest though the golden one immediately bounds towards her nearly barreling Myrcella in its enthusiasm.

"Hey girl," Myrcella greets her steed as it rubs its forehead with her armor covered chest for a pat. Myrcella only pets it before turning to look at her other friends also greeting their own It feels surreal for her. She has always known that the main purpose of the Gryphons would be the edge that they need for the wars that would ever threaten Rivendell. Yet last time they are doing this, it is in a time of peace, and Myrcella never thought that she would face another war. Twice are enough, thank you very much.

"Hey," the familiar scent of Delianah once more wafts over her senses calming the majority of her thoughts as she smiles at her lover and fiancé. "Are you alright Cella?" she asks.

Myrcella simply nods. "Just nervous, is all. I am leading everyone after all," Myrcella admits with a nervous smile at her lover.

"Hey, hey, none of that mopey crap," Delianah chides lifting her chin up. "You will do great. Remember, the qualities of a good leader is not only about how good or charismatic one is, but also knows when to recognize her failings and listen to the advice of those who do. Listen to Draco and the rest of the Lords for the plans but at the end of the day, it is your decision that would be the final one Cella, understand?"

"I understand," Myrcella just nods.

"Good, now smile. We have a speech to say," she grins making Myrcella blink as her brain tries to comprehend what she just heard….too late.

"What-,"

It is too late though as without warning, Delianah pushes her to the forefront of the open arch where she can see the entirety of everyong from the regular citizen of Rivendell to the proud members of the Silver Knights' Order cheering at her presence.

"Citizens of the free territories of Rivendell, I present to you our future monarch to be, the Princess Myrcella Baratheon!" booms Delianah as everyone rigorously cheers at the presence of their liege also at the open arch.

"You planned this didn't you?" Myrcella hisses in accusation at her lover who only grins cheekily at her.

"I aim to please Cella, I aim to please," Delianah simply cheerily replies much to Myrcella's annoyance as she is nudged even forward where everyone can now see her,"

Gulping Myrcella smiles brightly (and confidently she hopes) as she raises a hand in "Hello" to the gathered citizens. Once maybe she might have been embarrassed at being put in display in front of all these people. Under Delianah's tutelage however, she has become confident enough at being forced into such crowds. The life of a high lord or royalty in her case after all involves being associated with crowd interaction like this one today.

"They're going to be the one fighting for your name Cella. Make sure that you make the speech good and inspiring," whispers Delianah at her back.

Myrcella resists the urge to scowl at her lover's teasing. "Way to put on the pressure, Deliah," she replies through the corner of her mouth before focusing once more on the crowds below.

"Soldiers of Rivendell! Today we march to war! Tomorrow we claim our victory! I cannot think of much better people that I would trust my life unto for the future ahead. I would not speak of defeat for we do not march to defeat. Rather we go to and claim the future that awaits us. So all I can say my brave men and women, is thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting my claim. Glory awaits us, so we march, through dust, rain and mud we march, unto victory we march! WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS?!"

"WE PREVAIL!" the shouts of thousands of voices respond loudly that it seems the very air vibrates.

Now confident of her performance, Myrcella turns to Delianah who is standing at the side of Rhaenys and Amelia, both wearing their personalized touch of armor.

"Shall we?" Myrcella asks looking at Delianah.

"Fine, and good speech by the way," replies the Dame with a shrug marching past Myrcella but not after planting a solid kiss at her lips first…..in public.

"Better let everyone know you are mine before we go our separate ways Cella," the confident woman says licking her lips even as everyone down below murmurs at the rather public…..spectacle.

"Delia, should we really be doing this where everyone can see?" Myrcella can't help but ask nervously. She and Delianah after all have undertaken pains to make sure that their relationship would not become public.

"We should. Remember, you are going to be the queen Cella, and the number one rule of being queen is that you can do whatever you want to do and damn those who say otherwise. Now come, our armies are waiting,"

Without further ado, the Lady of Rivendell jumps from the arc followed immediately by the whooping sounds of Amelia and Rhaenys also following suit a second behind her.

"Show-offs," Myrcella simply shakes her head before also leaping off the arc into open air giving off a whoop of her own. The first time she has done this, she almost pissed herself in fear. Right now though….

A loud screech emanates from the air followed by a Golden Gryphon flying below her which Myrcella lands on gracefully. The saddles are specially made to absorb impact else her thigh bones might have cracked upon contact. As it is, she easily recovers as she flies with her three other friends, each with a Gryphon of their own.

Whatever happens for tomorrow, Myrcella would not exchange it for moments like this one.

…

Sky, On the Road to the Bloody Gate

Delianah happily leans on her Gryphon in leisure as an annoyed Godric flies slowly in order for the cantering Knights of the Silver Order and the Death Dealers below not to be left behind. One would think that in this time of slugfest again of the Seven Kingdoms, she would be a tad bit concerned and stressed. The former might be right a bit, war is something that one should always not take lightly, but she already has plans in motion. A better reason is that the slugfest would not be aimed at her directly and the people she cared about.

It is such a shame that Ned Stark and Bobby B had to die though. She liked both of them despite the former having the humor of an ice cube and the latter being grissly sometimes to look at. It is a blunder of the Hidden Ones and they are already doing overtime to compensate for such mistake by being extremely accurate to the letter on their reports to her. No point crying over spilled milk however and even Delianah would admit that she underestimated Jaime's reaction to Joffrey's displacement as heir. He after all not only murdered his father, but also the King, the Hand and an assortment of lords and ladies of the realm that day thus kickstarting the new slugfest that they are being caught on.

"King Stannis" after all would be gunning for Joffrey's head at King's Landing. "King Renly" would be dead within this week. She can literally feel the foul magic of that Red Woman already starting to take shape with an inherent desire to murder the dandy fop in five different ways. "King Balon" would be sending his reavers North where the Knights of Rivendell would tear them to pieces. The Iron Born are powerful on their ships. In the land? Not so much unfortunately. "King Joffrey" is no threat as he still dwells in his delusion that he is the King of the Seven Kingdoms already and he can do as he pleases. The moron is still unable to grasp it in his head that only the Crownlands and the Westerlands would be supporting his bid for the throne.

Delianah of course is not worried about Myrcella facing off against Jaimie Lannister and the forces of the Westerlands. She has Amelia and Rhaenys with her alongside Elder Marcus and Draco. They would not lead her astray. The entirety of the Black Guard Legions also are better than your average Westerosi. Add the might of the Riverlands and the North that she heard just marched past the Two Towers, she would have reinforcements and backup for the battle she is about to face. No, Myrcella would be able to win this fight, of that she is sure. With her victory, it would cement her reputation as the correct contender for the throne.

This allows Delianah of course to pursue her own interests. With a force of nearly of Three Thousand Five Hundred Silver Knights from the Order alongside a Thousand Death Dealers and another Two Thousand Skirmishers, she would be facing the Knights of the Vale in their entirety of Twenty Thousand Men at the open plains near the Bloody Gate. One would think that it is madness to face knights out in the open with a severe disadvantage on numbers. Normally it is, but Delianah has magic which is a great CHEAT in all caps. Yes, Myrcella might have her victory, but Delianah would not be Delianah if she at least does not achieve something that tops even that of her fiance's . Once she deals with the Vale, she can then turn her eyes down South to Stannis and the Reach. She already has plans on each, and what she just needs is for all of it to come beautifully together.

The real war after all would not be fought here but up there in the North where that army of Necromancers is amassing their forces. Only when they are all down and under will then Delianah be satisfied that her legacy of Greatness would be secure.

…..

Author's Note: Next Few Chapters will be the War of Four Kings and One Queen.

Hello Sorry for the late update. Been busy with life and trying to find the will to write this story. You ever get that feeling that you want to stop because you're slowly losing interest? That's what I'm feeling and thus the slow updates.