Chapter 50: Court
Myrcella took a breath and rubbed at her eyes. The hour was late, and they'd been talking about things for a few hours now. Myrcella didn't mind though, for over the weeks that her husband had been away, she'd missed him terribly. And whether it was the pregnancy or simply the fact that she'd missed him, she didn't want to spend too much time away from him.
Robb ran a hand through his hair, it was glinting in the fading sunlight, and then said. "I think we've got the Rock and Storm's End sorted then."
Myrcella hummed in agreement; they'd been discussing what to do about both places for some time. Grandfather was adamant that he'd not accept Tyrion as his heir-despite the law being very clear on that-and had instead insisted that Tommen-who was still recovering from what Joffrey had done to him-be made his heir. As such the letters patent had been drawn up and their seals attached to them. Robb would make the announcement at court tomorrow.
"Where exactly is Renly?" Myrcella asked, deciding to take her mind away from the storm that they were going to release when Uncle Tyrion learned that he wasn't to inherit the Rock.
Robb sighed. "Somewhere near Bitterbridge. It seems he's been spending most of his time feasting and drinking. His men are holding tourneys."
"He thinks this is a game." Myrcella said, in response to Robb's unasked question. "He thinks with his army and the fact he hasn't actually waged war yet, he can win the common people over."
"Well, he won't succeed." Robb said. "Food from the Riverlands and the Westerlands is making its way to the Crownlands as we speak. And of course, once we've dealt with Stannis, we'll have access to the seas proper again."
Myrcella nodded but noted a glaring issue. "Is Stannis making any move to leave Dragonstone, or are you going to have send someone to take the island?"
"Well, Varys," Robb replied, Myrcella grimaced, she knew why they'd pardoned the eunuch, but that didn't mean she had to like him. "Claims that Stannis has managed to get the wind he needs to set sail. That he has only five thousand men does not seem to have dissuaded him."
"Probably because of that red priestess he has with him." Myrcella pointed out. "Uncle Tyrion mentioned that she had a hold over him, and she did apparently perform some form of magic whilst he was there."
Myrcella doubted that though, given that Uncle Tyrion had been kept in a cell for most of his stay on Dragonstone.
Robb grunted. "Well, we'll find out when he appears. But for now, we need a proper Master of Ships and Small Council. Just having Lord Tywin and Varys isn't enough."
Myrcella smiled. "Who did you have in mind?"
"I was thinking Ser Wylis Manderly. Before the war broke out the man captained a ship or two, and he was the one who pushed for Lord Wyman to start shipbuilding the moment things got heated. I think he'd be a good candidate." Robb replied.
"I agree." Myrcella said, Ser Wylis was a jovial man, but she knew underneath that exterior was a man of iron and salt.
"What about Master of Laws?" She asked then.
"I had considered Roose Bolton, just to keep him here and away from the north, but I worry that that might be considered overt favouritism to the North." Robb said.
Myrcella considered this. Roose Bolton was a cold man, he'd said nothing when Robb had told him that his bastard son Ramsay had been executed for crimes against the north. He'd also said nothing when he'd learned his wife Walda was pregnant. He was also a dangerous foe to have. And she had no doubt that if he was allowed back north, he'd start scheming.
"I think Lord Bolton is the right choice. Keeps him here and keeps him loyal." Myrcella eventually said.
Robb nodded.
"I think Master of Coin should be Jason Mallister. The man has turned Seagard from a pit to a wealthy citadel due to trade both with the rest of Westeros and with Essos." Myrcella said, plus he was the one Riverlord that she actually trusted.
"Agreed." Robb said. "Plus, it means Edmure can't moan." Myrcella snorted; her husband's uncle had a habit of moaning about things. Indeed, he had started moaning after Robb had told him he was to return to Riverrun.
"Pycelle is Grand Maester, until he dies of course." Myrcella said. She would need to see if she could make that old goat hers rather than her grandfather's.
"Indeed. Ser Barristan is Lord Commander." Robb added.
"What about the Captain of the Gold Cloaks?" Myrcella asked. "You're planning on having Slynt executed alongside Joffrey, so, they will need a replacement."
She agreed with Robb's decision to have Joffrey executed alongside a low life like Slynt. It would be the greatest humiliation for the boy.
"What about Massey?" Robb asked.
"I could see it. Man has some experience and is from the Crownlands. Would play well." Myrcella said.
Robb smiled. "I guess we're done here then."
Myrcella smiled in return and sat on her husband's lap. "I think we are."
"Their Graces, the King and Queen." The herald announced, silencing the court.
Tyrion, stood near the walls, where the banners-a direwolf and a stag facing one another-hung watched as the King and Queen entered from behind the throne. They walked up the steps together, and then the King sat on the Iron Throne whilst the Queen sat on a throne directly to his right. One which had been specially forged. This one was light where the Iron Throne was dark.
Another thing that Tyrion noticed was that both the King and Queen wore coronets, neither of them wore crowns. That was unusual, especially as he knew that their crowns had already been forged and were waiting. He was surprised that his father-who was stood at the foot of the steps-had not pestered them about it. It seemed they had a hold over Lord Tywin that nobody had ever had.
Indeed, such was their apparent hold, that unlike Robert who would've announced his business himself, the King waved a hand and Lord Tywin unrolled a scroll of paper and began to speak.
"My lords and ladies, gentlemen and gentlewomen of the court, it is our pleasure, to announce that the following have been named to our Small Council."
Tyrion waited, wondering who would get the prime spots.
"As Hand of the King, we are delighted to name our grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West."
That was to be expected, the man was providing the money and food needed to keep the Crownlands satiated.
"As Master of Whispers, we confirm Lord Varys." Tyrion glanced to the side of the thrones where the eunuch stood. The eunuch had a cut under his right eye, curious that.
"We name Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort as Master of Laws." That got a stir, Tyrion saw Bolton smile and he nearly had a heart attack at the sight.
"We name Ser Wylis Manderly as Master of Ships." Two northmen on the Council, an interesting choice.
"We name Jason Mallister, Lord of Seagard as Master of Coin." Another good choice.
"We also confirm Grand Maester Pycelle and Ser Barristan Selmy in their positions of Grand Maester and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard respectively."
"Finally, we name Ser Justin Massey as Captain of the Gold Cloaks."
Tyrion frowned, that was an interesting choice. House Massey were a middling house from the Crownlands and hadn't done anything for Joffrey during his reign, or indeed for Robert during his. And yet one of their sons now wielded immense power.
Tyrion half expected the announcements to be done there and then, but even as his father rolled up one scroll and handed it to a servant, he took another scroll and continued to speak.
"We move now to the attainders and executions."
How joyful.
"Joffrey Baratheon, the pretender to the throne and the usurper, shall be executed in two days' time. As will the traitor Janos Slynt."
Nobody said anything, this had been expected.
"As for the pretenders Stannis Baratheon and Renly Baratheon, their continued refusal to bend the knee means that they have been formally attainted, and their lands and titles declared forfeit to the Crown."
Did this mean that Tommen would get Storm's End, Tyrion found himself wondering.
He got his answer when his father handed that scroll to a servant and unrolled a third scroll.
"We are aware that there is some concern over inheritances, and therefore we wish to resolve this matter. Dragonstone and Storm's End alongside their associated lands and income shall remain property of the Crown until otherwise noted. However, we could not leave our beloved brother Prince Tommen without land or income."
Tyrion felt something sting him then, he suspected he knew what was coming.
"Therefore, with Lord Tywin's agreement, we have given leave for our brother to adopt the surname Lannister, and to become Lord Tywin's hair."
His father stopped reading and the look on the man's face was one of, was glee the right word? All Tyrion knew was that his world had ended. He turned and stormed out of the throne room, seething.
"Ser Wendel Manderly, my lady." Maester Luwin said as he stepped aside.
They were in the Great Hall of Winterfell, Bran was feeling unwell-why she didn't know and that worried her-therefore she was sat in what had once been Ned's chair. The Lord's chair, some of the retainers were present, but it was largely empty today, what with many having gone to fight at Deepwood Motte and at Moat Cailin.
Catelyn felt her eyes widen when she saw who Ser Wendel had brought with him. Chained and bloody, it was Theon Greyjoy, Robb's friend and his greatest betrayer.
Ser Wendel bowed low. "My lady, I bring you the spoils of victory."
"Where did you find him?" Catelyn asked.
"Hiding in Deepwood Motte with his sister." Ser Wendel replied.
"And the Motte?" Catelyn asked, if Ser Wendel was here and he'd brought Theon that must mean that Deepwood Motte was free surely?
"Freed from the grip of Ironborn savagery. Not a single one of the Ironborn who were there were left alive. Apart from the traitor of course." Ser Wendel said.
"And the Glovers?" Catelyn asked. How the entire Ironborn contingent could've been killed she did not know, but she was willing to take the man's word for it.
"They are safe and well, my lady. I did ask them whether they wanted to come with me to let you know or send a raven, but they insisted that I bring the news in person." Ser Wendel replied.
Catelyn nodded, then she looked at two of the guards who were in the room and spoke. "Take the prisoner to the cells." They obliged and Theon was marched out. She would send a raven to Robb to let him know that everything had been sorted-or almost everything. Moat Cailin remained under Ironborn control for now.
She turned her attention back to Ser Wendel and spoke. "We thank you for your help in this, Ser Wendel, I know that the King and Queen are grateful."
Ser Wendel bowed his head. "I am only doing my duty, my lady."
"Well, I have one small favour to ask of you." Catelyn said, Ser Wendel looked up intrigued. "Head to Moat Cailin and assist Ser Rodrik in removing the Ironborn from there."
The man smiled. "Of course, it would be my honour, my lady."