This war of ours

Edmure POV

Thousands of tents were built outside King's Landing. The situation has finally calmed down. With the execution of Stannis and Joffrey, people have seen their new king and what he is capable of. It will still take much time to rebuild the city, but at least we can start the work now.

"My lord, I came to report to you," A young man came to me when I was walking around the outside of the city. He was nothing more than a blacksmith's apprentice, and he looked like one. "His lowly servant, have heard of the Septons gathering people, telling them that the King has no right to the throne."

"Continue with your observations," I told him.

He was one of my spies. At times like this, the information is most valuable. Merchants were good at grasping the situation in certain regions, and knowing what kind of products a lord bought would show what they were planning, what they were lacking, and so on. But when it comes to ordinary people, the merchants can't give valuable information.

To know what small folk is thinking, I need to rely on the small folk to tell me. I have taken in orphans from villages and towns for the past ten years and given them training. Now dozens of them are scattered in cities working as bakers, blacksmiths, scribes, tailors, and so on.

It took ten years to lay the foundation for this kind of organization. Still, it was a small organization that didn't have an ear for any lord. But in the next ten years, I will have blacksmiths and cooks working in their castles. When that time comes, House Tully will have to fear nothing.

Now that I am the Hand of the King, it is time to further my plans. This disaster shouldn't have happened, but it allowed getting more talented children without a home or family to work for House Tully. Even if it left a bad taste in my mouth, I must secure my house's power for the following centuries.

I don't want to rely on the merchants for too long. I have to watch them not betray me, and they ask for a price too high every so often. It is becoming troublesome to control them. Still, they work well as distractions for other forces.

Varys still is somewhere in the world, scheming and planning his following action. I can't trust the Tyrells not to seek more power for themselves. Now I have to watch small folk and ensure they aren't manipulated to do something stupid.

"My Lord, who was that?" Edmund, my faithful squire, asked.

"The blacksmith apprentice, he came to report about my armor. It will be fixed soon."

"Your armor?"

"Yes, it had too many dents and scratches. The war has not ended, young man. There are still many battles to be fought."

What I have said was true, most of Stormalands and Crownlands had surrendered to Jaehaerys, but it doesn't mean that it was everyone. The Westerlands became lands brimming with chaos, where lords fought each other, bandits roamed all the roads, and the leadership was unclear.

"Lord Edmure, his highness has requested for you," A messenger came just as I was done with my walk.

"Lead the way."

…

Soon enough, I returned to the Red Keep. Walking up to the throne room, I saw the King sitting on the Iron Throne, waiting for me. I knelt before him, and he motioned for everyone to leave us alone. Once we were alone, I stood up.

"Lord Edmure Tully, I have a task for you."

"I am ready to receive your commands, your Grace."

"The situation in the city has become stable at long last, but we can't let down our guard. It is time we finish this war of ours."

"What do you wish for me to do?"

"I want you to gather the Riverlands army and march to the Westerlands. It is time we put them down," The King commanded. "Those who surrender only will need to pay for their mistakes, and those who don't, you don't need to show mercy to them and take everything they have."

"I would like to ask why me? Why not send Tyrells? After all, I am your Hand. I have much work here."

"Because people are afraid of you," That was the first I heard. "I know that some Septons are causing trouble. I want them to show their heads so I can take them."

So that is how it is. The King wasn't sitting on the Throne all day long without listening to people. He has grown; still, I don't wish for him to become a cold king. What people need to see isn't more bloodshed but kindness. With the execution of Stannis and Joffrey, he showed his strength. Now it is time for him to reveal his heart.

"Your Grace, as the Hand of the King, I would counsel you not to kill any men of religion. No matter their actions, you can't turn faith into your enemy. In these trying times, many will turn to religion. They will not be pleased."

"What would you suggest I should do?"

"Use Tyrells, make them put Septons into their place, and then show mercy to them."

"You want to make Tyrells into the enemy of the faith?"

"Yes, we rely too much on them. It is time they rely on you, your Grace."

"Listening to your words makes me wonder if I am suited to be the King."

"No one is suited, you Grace. At some point, I thought I was the only one suited, if only I had the blood," I confessed. "But I was too arrogant, I failed you and myself, and I will fail many more times. You will do so too, but as long as we can work together, we will be able to cover our backs and fix our mistakes."

"Very well, then I will put all my trust in you."

"And I will put my trust in you, your Grace."

There were no lies in our words. It is time we thoroughly worked together to put this realm to peace. Part of me felt relieved. I should have relied on others more. It is time we end this war of ours.

…

The dungeons were damp and dark as always. Weaker minds would go insane in no time in these black cells. Yet Sandor Clegane seemed fine. Looking at the flame from my torch, he showed no fear of darkness. No, he feared the fire more.

"Have you come for my head?"

"No, I came to tell you how I killed your brother. Would you like to hear it?"

"Was it painful?"

"He burned alive in wildfire and then drowned in the river. His body probably won't be found, ever."

"Burned alive? Heh, so there is some justice in the world."

"Yes, even if it is not much."

"You have said what you wanted. You can leave me be."

"I can, or I can take you out of this cell."

"There is no place for me outside. I was just a dog to Lannisters."

"Yes, their hound. Still, do you want to die here?"

"Here or another place, what is the difference? I lived as a dog. I will die as one, by your hand or another's."

"What if I gave you another chance?"

"Be your dog? I don't see much difference."

"I don't need a dog. I need a sword. A Sword that would kill my enemies."

"It is said you are the best swordsman in the known world. Better than the Kingslayer, at least. You could kill anyone with me or without me."

"Yes, I could, but you see, I have many enemies, and their number will only increase. Come with me, forget your past and carve a future for yourself as my sword."

"Heh, it would be at least better than rot in there."

I would never have imagined wanting someone like him to be on my side. Yet ser Alyn, if it was his actual name, made me realize again that I can't fight alone. I needed someone to watch my back, but there weren't many skilled and, at the same time, trustworthy to do so.

…

Finding Patrek wasn't easy. No, maybe I didn't want to find him in the first place. Seeing him in this state, it was no wonder that Lord Jason Mallister didn't want to see his son. Seeing him like this made me only mad at myself because it was my fault for him to become like this.

Taking a bucket of cold water, I poured it on him. He woke up with deep grasps of air. His eyes were still hazy and horrified. I understood why. I never stopped hearing their screams, either. I still see the burning bodies when I close my eyes. It is no different with Patrek.

"Where? Who?"

"Get up, Patrek."

"Edmure, what in the seven hells what this for?"

"I only wanted to help you wash up, so you wouldn't need to waste time," I said and poured another bucket of cold water over him. "Look, now you're all clean."

"Fuck, do you want to fight me?"

"It is time to end this drinking, Patrek."

"Never."

"Patrek, I am asking nicely."

"Edmure, Edmure, you sure grew, have you not?" Patrek put his hand over my shoulder and then punched me. "But I am still older. You should show some respect to your elders,"

Good thing I knew he wouldn't just listen to me, so when he tried to push me out of his way and run past me, my new sword grabbed him. The Hound was not only big but strong enough to lift Patrek into the air and hold him there.

"Let me go, Edmure. Was it my father who told you to stop me?"

"No, your father doesn't want to see you like this. It is time we leave, Patrek."

"Leave where?"

"Don't you think those bastards living in the Westerlands so peacefully should taste some iron for what they have done?"

"So that's how it is," Patrek calmed down, and the Hound let him go. "You are right. I already can't taste wine anymore. Maybe their blood would be as sweet."

"Then let's prepare. It is time to show them that this war of ours has not yet ended."

A.N. Thanks for reading. If you want more, up to five advance chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852