Chapter Eighty-Two

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Rivendell,One Year Since the Coronation of Myrcella Baratheon to the Throne

Myrcella sighs as she reads one of the reports at her desk submitted to her by the Council. It is nothing of really great import, just a request for a minor house needing her signature for one of its bastards to name as his heir. It is one of the many the fair few that get past the Courts and reach her. Even though she's queen, the majority of the things she does these days are signing things and reviewing stuff that needs her attention.

"Leave it to Delianah to make a system that would give me the most comfort as possible," Myrcella internally muses, fondly remembering her wife and partner as she presses her seal at the bottom of the paper before shifting to the next one.

Being Queen of the Seven Kingdoms is not as hard as Myrcella expects it to be due to Delianah's new policies. She can still vividly remember the long winded sessions that Jon Arryn, her surrogate grandfather had before when dealing with the matters of the real. She also remembered the insanely large amount of requests and paperwork littering her table every night as he tried his damnest to pull the realm together. Now here she is, only dealing with things to sign instead of the insane amount of judgements and petitions that once belonged to the Crown. The Council and the Courts deal with most of the running of the day to day of the realm, only throwing the ones that need her seal or the most important ones to her.

A couple of cries make turn Myrcella's attention away from her work as she stands up and walk to where beside her working table is a large crib. Out of all the blessings that come with her new position in life is this, two blessings of great note. The Prince Harrison Baratheon and the Princess Alya Baratheon, her twin children. Harrison has brown hair with blue eyes while Alya has midnight black hair and emerald eyes. They are both absolutely beautiful and Myrcella adore them.

Just as Delianah promises, she does not need to lay with Loras to get her children. The young man is very well…. loving the more handsome sex and he happily agrees for any alternative that would make him fulfill his promise to his family and at the same time still pursue his preferences. It leads to a visit on the Green Isle where a ritual is made under Delianah's supervision with her and Loras. The two of them have gone into the world of dreams when it started and wake up only once it's done. Next thing the two of them know, Myrcella is pregnant with twins. Loras at first is skeptical when they told him that biologically, it would be his children also. Only when Myrcella has given birth and the young man lays eyes on the children does he fully acknowledge it's his. Both after all have the classic Tyrell face and good genes.

"Pretty sure that Delianah adds her own coin in my children though," Myrcella thinks looking at her fussing daughter who has wet her nappies again. The trademark black hair is proof enough of that. Her wife can be a bit selfish that way.

Making sure that her two angels are asleep and comfy as possible, Myrcella stands up before returning to her table to continue and catch up with her paperwork. The Seven, no, Eight Kingdoms are enjoying a time of recovery and prosperity right now. The series of wars and the War of Kings have taken a lot out of Westeros. With Myrcella now crowned officially as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the warring houses and their factions retired to their own places, every man to his own home.

What baffles Myrcella however is how easily the people accept the Constitution as the main law of the land and her marriage with Delianah seems to lack the protest that she has been dreading. The Lords and Ladies of Westeros after all are well known for their rather great disapproval of people like her or Loras. She would bet her crown however that Delianah has a hand on it again. Her lover has the uncanny tendency to be the cause of the majority of the good things happening in her life.

Stamping with her seal and signet the latest of the requests, she creaks her back enjoying the pops that come out of it. It seems that she would be done early for today. This means more time for her to pursue her interests

Pulling the small rope that rings a bell outside her quarters, she isn't surprised to see Yasmina enter with a curtsy at her. Myrcella simply places a finger on her lips making her friend nod in affirmation at her signal that the children are sleeping. Tippy toeing, she whispers a small "Thanks" to her close friend and concubine for not ever protesting about taking care of the kids giving Myrcella the free time she wants to pursue her own interests.

Walking down to her more private study, she acknowledges the Death Dealers guarding the hallway before once more finding herself in the solitude of hers and Delianah's private room. It is rare not to see Delianah present in this room of theirs since the Lady of Rivendell does love staying in her own House. However Delianah right now is supervising another of her pet projects down South. Apparently the empty "accursed" land where King's Landing was before is a prime opportunity that her wife is going to take full advantage of. This of course gives Myrcella prime opportunity to commandeer the room for her own, or to be more accurate, commandeer the pensieve of Delianah.

Humming to herself, she places the correct vial into the waters before dunking her face inside in order to watch the Lord of the Rings.

Delianah might have her side projects and Myrcella has her own. In the past year or so, she's been trying her hand in novelizing the series that she's lucky enough to watch in her wife's pensieve.

….

Water Gardens, Dorne

The sound of a plunger being pulled out is almost the same as Arianne's lips separates from that of Rhaenys. Sighing, Rhaenys wipes her lips from the drool connecting to the lips of the buxom beauty that is the princess currently draped over her side.

Officially, Rhaenys is here as the diplomatic ambassador of Rivendell to Dorne as proof of the friendship between the two kingdoms. Unofficially she is here for vacation with permission from Delianah and Cella. The reason however why she has to take said vacation is because of Arianne.(Another Unofficial reason is for Doran to be dosed by a loyalty draught lacing the crates of cold Butterbeer, a gift from Rivendell to the Prince of Dorne. The man has failed to show up at the coronation due to his gout and Delianah is not taking any chances). The Dornish Princess has been nagging her non-stop ever since she has accidentally slip that she has never been to Dorne(after her death). Thus in an effort to finally shut up the newest members of their little group, Rhaenys agrees to her proposal that she visits the land of her mother.

Now here she is, officially a visitor from Rivendell. Her uncle Doran almost faints as if he has seen a ghost when he first meets her. He manages to compose himself however and welcomes her to Dorne as a visitor. He repeats the same pale visage when she introduces herself as Rhaenys, before collecting his expression once again. That is two months ago and he has been keeping watchers on her.

At first she has been wary of it, her training as a Death Dealer and the instincts of a fighter inherited from Ser Arthur Dayne kicking in. With a private discussion however to Delianah through the two way mirrors, the Lady of Rivendell rests her fear after telling her that Doran is a man of logic believing fervently in things supported with hard evidences before making a decision. Rhaenys' revival into this world however is a gift of the Old gods (magic and sorcery), and one that would not fit into Doran's little reasonable world.

Dorne is a harsh place full of deserts and mountain ranges. It's sand is full of things that would be more than happy to make a meal of you if they can. The air is hot and dry with few plants able to grow, and the Dornish like the Northmen learn to deal with it as best as they can, improvising and adapting with the world around them. Yet here the Dornish flourish, proud and strong. She has to admit that it is impressive.

Her time at the Water Gardens is she has to admit…..interesting. When Arianne described the wonderful things that she would see her, she has certainly left out her cousins, Nymeria and Tyene. Let's just say that the three are rather…..very interested in one of the women that catche their Princess and cousin's attention. Long story short, she believes she would be walking bowlegged by the time she returns to Rivendell…..and sore.

…..

Ashes of King's Landing

Accursed, that is what many of the people in Westeros calls the ashes of King's Landing. In the hindsight they have a fair point for calling it that. The wildfire works well, perhaps too well in its intended use. There is literally nothing left standing after it burns itself out. Everything that makes King's Landing, King's Landing is gone from the Dragonpit, to the giant slums and even the infamous Red Keep. Nothing remains standing, even the stench got burned away. The only proof that a city once stands here is the blackened stone that seems to stretch on for miles, an empty desolate wasteland where nothing grows.

No one in their right mind would dare even lay claim to the giant empty space, and for good reason. Millions of ghosts have been created from the rather impromptu firestorm. No one in their right mind, unless her name is Delianah Tully of course.

Whereas others see a place that should be avoided like the plague, Delianah sees opportunity. Aegon the Conqueror is no fool. She can see that very well. The setting of King's Landing as capital of Westeros has not been chosen poorly by the first Targaryen King. No, he chose King's Landing by its strategic place being almost at the center of the Continent. It is situated to be the beating heart of Westeros on which the Seven Kingdoms can have easy access to. War may start and create kingdoms but it is trade, income and resource that keeps it together. King's Landing is that, a place where merchants, smallfolk and traders of every kind can congregate bringing with them the things that the Seven Kingdoms as a whole has to offer. It has access to water and perfectly suited bays where ships can drop anchor, a focal point for international trade.

Delianah plans to raise something like that, though it's more akin to Rome where all roads will meet., a place of industry, trade and commerce. Personally while she does enjoy the fact that Rivendell is now the royal seat of the Seven Kingdoms, it gets quite irritating when the merchants, smallfolk and many other people that would usually come to the capital looking for work or practice their trade start camping out outside the borders of Rivendell. The number of reports she receive from a very not happy border guards are staggering and frankly, she does not enjoy the squatters poking even near her slice of paradise.

Thus this would be her solution. Of course unsaid is the little fact that this would be an opportunity for her to create again something that would monumentalize her name. Don't get her wrong, she adores Myrcella and their little children, but this is probably the first time in Delianah's life where everything is quiet. Ever since she has gotten here, she has always striven for a goal to reach. It is a new thing for her to sit simply this long without nothing to really aim at. Thus this would be her pet project.

Already hundreds of nervous looking surveyors are now worriedly checking the land for accurate measurements. Each of them are making the warding against evil as they work and some of the more superstitious ones even brought talismans of protection. Delianah wants to snort at that. They obviously feel the former presence of the ghosts that once resided here. For everyone else they might be a problem, but for Delianah, they are a perfect fuel source after she infuses them on her phylactery back at Rivendell for future batteries of runes. Yes, there are no ghosts anymore here. She personally takes great pleasure on dissolving Joffrey's squealing ghost to a rune that would get rid of smell.

Now one might ask as to why she is focusing here when there's an obviously big bad necromancer with this world's version of Zombie Apocalypse behind it's back slowly looming down South to eat their brains? Shouldn't she be preparing like mad for their upcoming arrival?

The answer for that is simple. She is already prepared, or rather preparing as best as she could ever since her cute butt sits on the throne beside Myrcella's.

She already begins the rearming of Westeros after the war and made them aware of the threat coming their way. She is not like Dumbledore after all who would prefer that the people bury their heads like ostriches unaware of the threats to their lives, no. Teams of Night Watch Rangers have gone out and captured two wights to serve as proof to the lords and ladies of the realm about the threat above. Now said wights are being paraded around the Seven Kingdoms to every castle and holdfast as a proof to everyone that their lives are about to get more interesting once winter sets in.

Of course despite the truth trying to claw them in the face right off, there are always some lords who refuse to believe. That is why Delianah has dispatched Grandmaster Leomord of the Silver Knights Order alongside Ser Alliser Thorne who looks like something large has tried to maul his face off with the caravan escorting the wight. The presence of such people is enough to ensure that even the most simple and dumbest of lords would not be able to play dumb and plead ignorance.

Thus with overwhelming support in fear of self-preservation, caravan trains by the hundreds head north bearing supplies, weapons and repair crews to the Wall. The news that the only thing standing between them and the Army of the Dead is the Wall with its castles broken and dilapidated is enough to galvanize everyone to at least contribute.

The richer houses take it another step by hiring mercenaries from Essos and sending them to the Wall to the aid of the Night's Watchmen. The poorer houses on the other hand made the easy way of forced conscription of the local thugs and bandits. Let's just say that by the time the War of the Dawn as it later would be known would be over, Westeros has never seen a more peaceful period with the amount of bad apples in the populace trimmed to the root.

Delianah does not lay down all her trust in the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms of course, no. This war would be one of the largest Westeros will ever see and it would be against Undeath. Trusted Death Dealers travel the skies with the wings of Gryphons to every corner of the world to the allies of Rivendell calling them to arms. Now she waits for their reply. Only one so far has answered and rather quickly too.

The Red Priets of Essos come in force. Delianah has to put them up in a more secluded area at Dol Amroth where they can all congregate to avoid infighting with the populace of the North who mistrust strangers (for good reason). They do not come alone however, nearly every temple of the Lord of Light arrive in droves. Each of them has something to offer from mercenary groups they hired to fight the War of the Dawn to famous pit fighters of the arena of Mereen or supplies. All of them answers the fateful call of their Lord of Light.

That would have been the end of it if not for one day Jon, who is delivering the large amounts of pig fat oil to the Blacksmiths for the never ending work dropped his sword on the coals. The moron of course in a panic tried to pull it out and one of the pig fat bags splashes on it making him run as fast out as the workplace combusts. His sword is aflame, he tries to push it to a large sea dune. With still large amounts of oil however still on it, the water does not quench the fire, thus it is still ablaze when he pulls it out. Coincidentally a troop of Red Priests are taking their penance walk in the morning when they witnessed only the part of him covered in salt water pulling out a sword of fire from the dune.

Thus Jon Stark adds another epitaph in his name, Azor Ahai, the Prince who was Promised.

Delianah is still amused as he reads the reports of the Hidden Ones there. The Red Priests are fawning and following the Castellan of Dol Amroth like little puppies much to the amusement of his wife. Either way, as long as he does becomes a little uppity, Delianah would let it be for the meantime.

She turns her eyes eastward. It is common knowledge now that Dragonglass and Valyrian Swords will be able to kill Wights and White Walkers. That is however man to man. In large droves however the best thing that would be able to challenge Wights is fire, and there is nothing else that breathes and lives fire than dragons.

…

The Wall, Castle Black

Normally, Jeor Mormont would be glad of fresh supplies coming from South to support the Wall. The Night's Watch decline at least would be slowed down that way. The last thing that it needs is to be lacking supplies when there are already a severe low quality about the Men being recruited to its ranks.

The past year however ever since the coronation of the Lady Myrcella Baratheon, things have turned rather different. Of course he sends out Benjen down South to ask for aid for the Watch and at the same time to raise the alarm of the Kingdoms of Men about the Dead coming their way. He has expected little of course except a fresh group of conscripts from them. "Grumpkins and Snarks" as the late Tyrion Lannister would say when it comes to the Southern opinion about the Wall and the men guarding it.

Imagine his surprise when wagons arrive carrying fresh timber, stone and building materials alongside new fresh recruits. These are not your usual band of ill-tempered prisoners and no-gooders, no. These are second, third and fourth sons from knighty and noble houses answering the call. An excited Benjen arrives with them bringing the good news that the new Queen Consort and de facto ruler of Rivendell, the new capital of Westeros are raising hell about their plight. He also carries direct orders from the queen for them to capture two wights as proof to everyone below.

It cost the Night's Watch fifty men, but they are successful with it. Now with Ser Alliser Thorne in tow, the proud Knights of the Silver Wing Order arrive to pick up their cargo and go off with it. Then comes another caravan, and another, and another, and another. It seems almost a never ending supply train that arrive, each carrying sigils of different Houses. It is like a dream come true for Jeor Mormont.

Each of the caravans carry a lot from , food supplies, building supplies alongside that miracle sand called Cement from Rivendell, oil, wood, tar, Iron, Steel, Stone, everything that the Night's Watch has been desperately needing. Stonemasons, Woodmasons, Blacksmiths, Fletchers, armorers, all arrive with the caravans to help. Small hills of rice arrive also alongside copious amounts of turkey meat. For a time, the Night's Watch food ration would usually only have meat in the most special of occasions. Recruits also, and volunteers willing to man and repair the wall comes in thousands that it makes Jeor's head spin.

He's supposed to be happy, but now he's not. Organizing and planning all these is making his head hurt. If he's lucky, he'll get four hours sleep in the day and two at worst. Everything at Castle Black is being replaced, even his office. Now it looks more like a Lord's proper Office with a comfy warmplace and fur covered seats with a study and open windows. It certainly beats its previous design which looks more akin to a sergeant's resting place.

All the castles at the Wall is being restored, all nineteen of them. If one might have told generations of Lord Commanders' that one day the castles of the entirety of the Wall would be repaired and manned, they might have laughed. Now Jeor is seeing it, the massive workforce that is still growing by the day working like an entire beehive transforming everything that they can the old defenses of the Watch, it almost makes him want to weep seeing the massive trebuchets and ballistas of the Wall taken down and replaced by new siege engines with the latest doodads of engineering.

He might have been more happy if not for the fact that the Army of the Dead is approaching them slowly as each day passes.

….

Ashes of King's Landing

Catelyn flinches once more as she hears it. A mad cackling laugh which always ends with "Burn them all!" . She has been personally assigned by her bastard queen sister (the thought of her title almost makes her froth at the mouth) as the senior "recorder" of the Surveyors of the Ashes of King's Landing. It is supposed to be a noble job, a work personally assigned by a member of the Royal Family.

There are two problems though.

First is the fact that the job is more akin to that of a glorified secretary writing down everything that the Surveyors bring to her in painstaking detail which is beneath her as a lady of a noble house. More than once she has been forced to swallow her pride as she has to ask the surveyors, common born smallfolk to explain to her what they meant much to her ire.

The second is the fact that she believes this place to be accursed and she is being haunted. Every now and then she can feel a chill as if something passes her followed by that insane cackling. She has already brought with her the Seven Talismans of the Seven to ward off evil. So why is she still being haunted? She shivers once more as something cold brushes against her followed by the sound of that cackle.

"Gods I want to get out of this place," she murmurs inside while at the same time cursing her new position where Catelyn has no choice but to be polite to her.

At her vantage point, Delianah Tully giggles as the released ghost of Aerys Targaryen from her phylactery follows her half-sister around. Who said that vengeance isn't sweet?

….

Author's Note: And this is the end of the Filler Chapter. Next up is the Start of the End. The War of the Dawn. Guess which character is about to end up dead? Hope ya like this little filler before we go to our main course of action.