Chapter Eighty-One
Five Months after the End of The War of Kings
….
Life ever since the rather anti-climatic end of the war slowly gains a vestige of normalcy to Westeros. With Joffrey "The Mad" Baratheon unexpectedly getting a fiery death via immolation with Wildfire, the Kingdoms finally have rest.
The North consolidates its strength and power with the return of its lords and ladies. Though out of all those that support the Lady Myrcella's bid to power, they suffer the most with the deaths of at least two Starks during the War of Kings. The Lady Sansa got taken out during the unexpected explosion of King's Landing and of course the betrayal of Robb Stark by Ramsay Snow. In the end, the new kingdom fell to the hands of Brandon Stark as the next in line. With how young he is, the Greatjon and a large number of Karstarks and Bear Islanders flood Winterfell to make sure that their next lord would grow up a Northener. Catelyn Tully is pointedly shipped out back to Riverrun screaming and kicking.
The East under the Vale barely clumps it together to avoid a civil war. Their rather large defeat in a humiliating manner humbles a lot of the Vale Lords. However with the sickly Sweet Robin motherless and a suckling whelp, leadership remains ostentatious in the crags of the Kingdoms. Ironically only their shared fear of the Mountain Clans moving over their strongholds remains knitting the Vale together, especially with no Lord Paramount leading them.
The West is literally devastated in all aspects. Strip mined to a T almost by Jaimie Lannister during his campaign against his niece, in his brief tenure as Lord Paramount, the problems that Tywin hold back about mines of Casterly Rock drying becomes public information. Without the support of the business partnerships set up by the Old Lion with Rivendell, it descends into chaos as Lords realize that they are buggered seven ways to Sunday. Rebellions sprout all over and Tommen who ascends as the new Lord of the Rock as Tywin's will reads is inexperienced in dealing with it. Myrcella however with the patronship of Lady Delianah sends the Silver Wings' Knight Order to bring peace to the region, stabilizing it.
The Riverlands on the other hand enjoys a new bout of prosperity under finally the rule of Lord Edmure Tully. The man has proven himself to his people very well during the war. The harsh and disciplined teaching of his father also turns him to a man that can be respected by both lords and common folk. His engagement to the Castellan of Rivendell, the Lady Amelia is the highlight of his rule so far attended by both halves of the splintered kingdom for the first time.
The Southlands on the other hand is another matter.
The Crownlands are much simpler to deal with. As always, they pledge themselves to whomever it is that won the Iron Throne, sadly there is no Iron Throne anymore and surveyors from Rivendell are currently checking out the burnt land of King's Landing to be reclaimed by Rivendell and its territories.
The Stormlands on the other hand is an interesting point. After being pulled this way and that in allegiance to both Renly and Stannis, the lack of a Baratheon to inherit it puts it into civil war with powerful lords vying for the absent position of Lord Paramount. It might have gone on for years if not for an unexpected hero.
Looking like a miniature Robert Baratheon without the locks, Gendry, the blacksmith, bastard son of the late king Robert appears with a bunch of followers of his own and surprisingly, a young girl with a Direwolf with her. Wielding a warhammer he scours the Stormlands putting down bands of lords and fights earning allegiance after allegiance of the scattered Stormlords. He claimed the name of Baratheon by right of conquest after he puts down the castellan of Storm's End who announces himself as Lord of the Castle. There and then it is know that his companion is Arya Stark whom he wastes no time announcing as his lady.
Dorne is much simpler. Due to the good terms it has with Rivendell, Prince Oberyn Martell and the current heir, Princess Arianne Martell establishes the relationship between the two kingdoms. It is widely spoken however that the Princess of Dorne has intimate relationships with the Princess Myrcella and the Lady of Rivendell. It is an open secret but no one actually says it out loud for reasons of common sense.
The Reach on the other hand reorganizes itself and prospered after the wake of the wars. With Westeros proverbially half-starved with kings taking the provender provided for Winter with their armies, the bread basket of the realm makes a killing filling the empty larders and granaries. Winter after all is fast approaching. Loras Tyrell also with a large number of his knights move to Rivendell where he would be inducted as Prince Consort of the Realm.
The Iron Islands ironically gets the worst end of the deal after The War of Kings. Balon Greyjoy in his stupidity has ordered his Iron Born to reave and pirate the entirety of Westerosi shores while everyone is fighting one another. Now that the war ends and the Lord Paramounts take stock of the lands they rule, everyone is angry at the bitter old man at Pyke.
Thus with direct orders from Myrcella (and Delianah), Jon Stark with his wife sailed the Swan Ships of Dol Amroth with the entirety of the Redwyne Fleet and many other skiffs and ships, once more lay siege to Pyke, turning it to rubble. Balon Greyjoy bears witness of having his son and heir Theon, castrated before he is put into a catapult and launched to a nearby cliff. The cockles wonder is now Lord of all Ironborn. Surprisingly, as the fleet is on their way home, they encounter the small armada of a returning Euron Greyjoy whom they then decimated in good order before throwing him to the sharks.
Rivendell on the other hand (the unofficial Eighth Kingdom of Westeros) publicly rests. It would after all be the new capital of Westeros where the Princess Myrcella would be crowned. It catches the attention after all of everyone from Westeros to Essos when the Princess of the Realm announces that she would be marrying the Dame of Rivendell. Such a public match and unexpected match, of course causes a lot of ire, especially with the remnants of the Faith and many lords who decry it as unnatural. Seeing however that they cannot be united with the Sept of Baelor a pile of ashes at King's Landing, all they can do is bark and wag their tongues around. There is also the added fact that it is not wise to badmouth the victor of the War of the Kings, thus the protests are rather few.
The Reach of course protests at first. They after all have expected that Loras Tyrell would be King Consort to Myrcella. Delianah Tully makes it clear that in the agreement, Loras would be Prince Consort, so that means he would be responsible in providing heirs with the Queen but Myrcella would still marry Delianah Tully. At first they are ready to protest but with a little admonishing from the Queen of Thorns unwilling to give up the possibility that the future heirs of Westeros would have Tyrell blood on them, majority of their banner lords acquiesce their protests. They after all realize that any powerful push on their part might force a change in decision.
Right now however, Rivendell is planning for the upcoming promotion of the Princess' Myrcella from Princess to Queen.
…
Rivendell, Delianah's Outside Quarters
At one of the arches connecting to that of Delianah's common room quarters, sits the circular inside pool that is a reminisce of Roman bath houses with beautiful statues holding jars that serve as faucets for the circular pool at the middle of the open archway. Pink and blue transparent curtains cover the opening of the arches giving the sunlight streaking in a color. Plants in beautifully crafted jars sits at the sides specifically designed to give off sweet aromas that waft the entire area.
Delianah has her own private space for bathing in her rooms but this area has been frequented a lot either by her and those closest to her throughout the years. Like right now, all of them are present due to the upcoming coronation and nupitals of Myrcella and Delianah. They have however a plus one that for some reason successfully worms herself to their little group.
"Ah, this is life. How I survived without this all my years is beyond me," bubbles Arianne Martell with a towel atop her head.
Delianah smirks as she stares at the dusky-skinned young woman. Arianne Martell is crafty as a viper when she first introduces herself to her and Myrcella as one of Dorne's delegation. She has to admit that she is cunning in her own right. A spiked food and drink however with loyalty potions and the future heiress of Dorne has no qualms pledging her kingdom's loyalty and friendship to that of hers. It however has an unintended effect as the curiosity of the princess turned to downward attraction for her specifically.
Now here she is joining their little merry band of female group. Amelia is present with them right now due to Edmure and Hoster arriving early for this week's coronation and marriage. Rhaenys of course as usual is present. Despite being reluctant at most of the times, the young woman takes little effort into being dragged with them into bed. Yasmina is as demure as ever though she's reach her beauty's peak already with full hips and an hourglass body with a pretty face framed on a ponytail. She has to admit that the genetics carefully maintained for the concubines of Yi Ti are impeccable. Then there's Myrcella of course, as beautifully glowing as the first day they met.
All of them are rather skeptical of Arianne till the Dornish Princess starts trying to go under their pants unashamedly either alone or in a grouo. The things that vixen can do with her body is unreal. Thus after reluctant assurance of hers truly, the rest of her friends finally acquiesce that yes, they can trust the Dornish woman (as long as she's regularly dosed with the loyalty potions till her mind changes).
"This is the genius of my beautiful betrothed of course Arianne, did you know that she's the one who planned out all this along with the architects?" points out Myrcella leaning at Delianah's side, her warmth palpable despite the steam of the bath.
"Please Cella, all I did was to add a little something here and a little something there. The architect and the builders did all the rest,"
"As if," Amelia snorts floating on her back at the bath, her pale skin gleaming under the water. "I seem to recall the architect completely confused when you asked him to design an empty hill. He completely gave up on it till you start yammering about where goes where,"
"They're none too happy about it though. Making a castle for a bastard. Being uppity they call it-oh!" Rhaenys pants out her last word as Yasmina is nibbling the side of her neck.
"Do you really have to do it here Rae-Rae?" asks Myrcella with a frown looking at Delianah's concubine coaxing her best friend to get in the mood for a lay.
"I seem to recall you and Delianah here letting her do the same last two days before. Our Yasmina is very talented after all," replies Rhaenys with a smirk.
"Yes, you are not wrong about that. Especially the thing she does with her tongue that- OW!" Myrcella glares at Delianah who has pinched her side.
"Cella, enough about bed talk," she chides before looking at Rhaenys and Yasmina. "And you two, behave. You can fuck each other's brains out after we all have a bath. I don't want Arianne to be tempted to take it to another level," she throws an eye look at the Dornish Princess who has a predatory looking on her face observing Yasmina and Rhaenys.
"Aww, you ruin all my fun," she pouts.
"You can join them later," sighs Delianah
"Hey! I didn't invite her. I want some personal time with Yasmina here," protests Rhaenys.
"I didn't recall you protesting when I joined in last time. In fact you seem to enjoy it if you calling my name to the high heavens is any proof,"
"Arianne! Do you have to say that out loud?" squeaks a red faced Rhaenys who is now the subject of mischievous grins from the rest.
"Purrlease, it's not as if everyone here doesn't have a taste of you already. You don't have to be shy about it," the Dornish woman flicks her long hair to the side.
"Alright! Alright! You can join in, just stop talking about it please!" Delianah laughs alongside everyone else at the embarrassed face of their secret Targaryen friend.
Making sure the world knows about her name as Delianah the Great might be her main goal, but this today? This might not be so bad at the moment.
….
The Wall, Castle Black
"Benjen, it's good to see you…..alive. I am sorry about Duncan Frostmerry and Leynwood, they're good men," declares Jeor Mormont as the grim Stark sits beside the fireplace. In the firelight, Jeor can see he looks like he has aged twenty years since the last two months of ranging.
"That bad?" he asks after the man takes a deep draught of water.
He simply nods. "I thought Ser Alliser would be joining us," he rasps out.
"He would, he's currently straightening some of the boys who ganged up on the Lannister,"
"Again?"
"Again," sighs Jeor Mormont.
Suffice it to say that since the War of Five Kings ended, floods of prisoners are sent to the Watch after being captured by their foes. Majority of them of course are those belonging to House Lannister, Vale and the bloody Iron Lands. Most infamous of their new recruits however is Jaimie Lannister himself, the proud lion of the West and probably the reason why the War of Five Kings kicked off. Long story short, a lot of people aren't happy with him. With him missing his right hand, they tend to whack him around due to their new phase in life as members of the Night Watch.
The sound of a door creaking is enough to signify the arrival of Ser Alliser Thorne, the dour and bitter man nodding his head at the two of them.
"Lord Commander, First Ranger. I am sorry I am late," he greets taking a chair beside Benjen.
Three months ago and the former Targaryen loyalist would rather have chopped his own dick than be cordial to the First Ranger. The Great Ranging however changed all that. Jeor had led almost two hundred of his brothers to find out what the hell is happening up North that wildling villages, both peaceful and violent ones are disappearing. They got more than what they bargained for.
The Battle at the Fist of the First Men happened when the entire camp got invaded by dead men walking. The group had been pushed back with great loss reducing their numbers of two hundred to forty-men before they managed to break through and escape with their lives. Alliser and Stark are one of those men.
"So what news of our King Beyond the Wall Benjen. Are they still gathering at Hardhome?" Ser Alliser asks.
"Hardhome…is gone Ser Benjen and at least eighty thousand wildlings are dead. The Night King got to them. It is a massacre,"
The declaration of Benjen sends a chill down Jeor's old heart. They have been banking on the gathered numbers of the Wildlings to deal a fatal blow to the Army of the Dead. To say that they have been defeated is terrible news. The Night's Watch has been gathering weapons and dragonglass from a small cave nearby where they can mine the thing. They have been meaning to drop them off to the wildlings and give them a chance to reduce the dead's numbers.
It seems that they are too late.
"Is Mance also dead?" he asks as Stark shakes his head.
"No, twenty thousand escaped the massacre mostly the old, women and children. They fled as the rest hold off the Army of the Dead. They are heading here. I believe that they plan to ask for succor for us to open the gates,"
"We need to open it for them Lord Commander," an ashen faced Ser Alliser speaks out taking also a gulp of water. "Eighty thousand already joined the Army of the Night King. We cannot add another twenty-thousand to that,"
Despite knowing the change of the bitter knight's outlook on things, Jeor can't help but raise an eyebrow at his words. He never thought he would hear those words coming from Ser fucking Alliser Thorne.
…
Prince Consort's Table
Loras has no idea about the "Table" at first when he is first given it. Nothing about his lordly education after all mentioned anything about it. In fact everything about Rivendell is new to him, the architecture, the way people talk and walk, it seems as if for Loras, he has entered into a new world seen only in books.
The people that is under Rivendell is different from the rest of Westeros as far as he can tell. The divide between smallfolk and those at the upper echelons is narrow. The Reach might boast about being the granary of Westeros but at the expense of their smallfolk. Lords and ladies would usually take the majority of the grain and leave only enough for their poor underlings to survive. At Rivendell it is different. The Smallfolk are called "citizens" and they are divided into towns and homesteads with each homestead having their own specialization and guard. There is also the fact that the citizens can keep majority of their produce to sell to merchants, lords and knights, earning money while paying the tithe demanded by Rivendell and the due tax. It is so different from everywhere else where smallfok are obligated to give off their produce to their lords lest they be punished and their produce seized anyway by force.
The Table position assigned to Loras he has to admit suits perfectly to his gifts. Basically he would be bridge and show of the Royal Family to the people. He would be mingling with them, listening to their woes, make friends of them and in the worst case, help them on their troubles. It suits perfectly to his extremely likeable persona. There is also the fact that he would be able to act out the Knight that he is.
Like all young boys, Loras dreamed of being a knight, a gallant warrior riding with people looking at him in awe while he serves justice and righteousness. Bitter truth snaps it however and he realizes too late that majority of the Knights of Westeros are simply telltale legends with no sense of honor.
Here at Rivendell he would be able to realize that boyhood dream of his with no one to bark at him for doing it right.
This truly is the land of dreams as far as he is concerned.
…
Rivendell, Delianah's Private Quarters
Myrcella awakes in the middle of the night missing the familiar warmth that usually hugs her from the side of the bed. Sighing, she wraps the blanket to cover her naked form before getting up from the bed and walking to the open veranda where she can see her betrothed sitting naked as the day she is born, her long violet hair unraveled floating in the wind. As always, Myrcella wonders how lucky she is to be able to love someone like her Delia and be loved in return.
"Thinking again?" she asks walking to stand beside where Delianah is sitting. Down below she can see the entire lights of Rivendell's territories shining in the distance.
"Did I wake you Cella?" asks Delianah waving, her feet dangling into open air of the veranda. For the life of her, Myrcella cannot understand how Delianah has zero fear of heights.
"A little Delia. I miss your warmth in the bed," says Myrcella leaning to her side.
"I am sorry. I'm just….,"
"Thinking, I know," finishes Myrcella. "I can't blame you Delia. Our lives are about to change, both of us in the next few days. For what it's worth, I am sorry for dragging you with me on this twisting life of mine," she says. More than anyone Myrcella knows that despite the honor, prestige and wealth that comes with royalty, it totally cancels off the possibility of a quiet and simple life. Something that they have here in Rivendell before the death of her father.
"You have nothing to be sorry for Cella. It has been fun despite the dangers," waves off Delianah. "Plus there's also the sex which is-,"
"Hush you,"Myrcella pats her lover's side. "I have enough talk about sex ever since Arianne arrives,"
"Sure, what do you want to talk about then Cella?" asks Delianah.
Myrcella sighs plucking her courage to sit beside Delianah in the verandah despite her legs dangling in open air. The past few months Delianah has been preparing for her coming ascendancy to Queenhood. With King's Landing gone, Rivendell would be the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Delianah also has taken great pains to make sure that her rule would be quiet, just and as easy as possible. A lot of things has been changed.
First of all is the creation of the Judicial Body. A Supreme Court only to be overruled by the monarch to deal with justice throughout the land under a set of rules that Delianah names the Constitution. As far as Myrcella can tell, it contains all the major laws of Westeros that a judge can use to dispense justice. Each Kingdom of Westeros has its own provincial judge and below that, the city or town judges. The more serious the crime, the higher you go till you reach the Supreme Court. Gone are the days where lords would be the judges of the Crown's justice. All would be below the constitution, even the lords and ladies of the realm.
Secondly is the formation of the Royal Inquisition. Unlike before where a king relies on a Master of Whisperers in his council, trusting fervently that said Council Member is loyal and true, the High Inquisitor would take its place. Like the Knights of the Silver Wings, the Inquisition is an Order. They are basically the eyes and the ears of the crown. For the Royal Inquisitors, no door would be closed to them during their investigations except for that of the Lord Paramounts where only the Royal Inquisitor and his retinue can. Punishment for those who dare to hurt an Inquisitor is an automatic death sentence.
Court would also be limited to five days only per week and only the important tasks not solved by the Supreme Court would be brought before the Queen. Other stuff like naming bastards and issues of title, inheritance or land of course would still remain the Crown's responsibility. Other than that, a system has been included where she can be free and able to pursue her own interests while being fair.
"Do you think I would be a good queen Delia?" Myrcella asks looking down. She knows deep down of course that when it comes to push and shove, she would break. She's not as strong willed, dutiful or wise as either Rae-Rae, Amelia or Delianah. Either of them three would make a good queen than her.
"Of course you won't Cella," the curt answer of Delianah makes the beautiful blonde stare at her fiancé in disbelief.
"You'll be the best one that Westeros will ever see," she adds with a confident look, those green eyes piercing at Myrcella eroding the self-doubt within her.
"You know why Cella?"
"Why?"
A cheshire grin appears at her face like a cat having its canary. "You will be married to me. Please Cella, what can you do without me?" she pompously says.
Despite herself Myrcella can't help but laugh out loud with tears in her eyes. She promptly forgets that humility is not in her beloved's dictionary of character.
"What can I do indeed without you my beloved Delianah," she recognizes the truth there without shame or worry even as she continues laughing.
….
Author's Note:
Hope ya like this Chapter. Enjoy. Pushing the Start of the Last Arc after this filler Chapter.
PS: Guys if you enjoy powerful OCs and gaming come to life. Go to A Helping Hand Story of mine. It contains famous video games at the Ready Player One universe. It also takes account massive battles and a colorful Player One fanfic is not famous so a lot are missing it.