Hello everyone, sorry for taking a while to update but I was busy with Father's Day and all of that. I had to visit family, and so... in anycase, I do hope all of you are having a great week and, let me tell you, the next update is going to be a Dragon Age fic!
So, to those who liked that niche fanfic, you'll rejoice!
-Dragon Age: The Demonic Age.
-Original Work!
-Harriet Potter: The Demon Empress
-Overlord: The Demon Who Lived? (Smut fanfiction)
See you all soon! And have a great time!
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Chapter 34
Galadriel couldn't believe her eyes as she gazed at the multitude of letters scattered on her desk. The audacity of certain nobles to promote their sons, hoping to captivate her, left her in a state of disbelief. She realised she shouldn't have been taken aback by this, as it was to be expected. In truth, Galadriel blamed herself for diverting too much attention towards other matters. Nevertheless, the entire affair of finding an heir and arranging a marriage was undeniably vexing to her.
How annoying this can be.
Galadriel thought as she simply tossed some of the letters to the side while scoffing. "Ridiculous," muttered angrily. Some of the queensguard stared at her, a bit amused.
"Something bothering, your grace?" Brienne asked as she stared at the queen standing up and throwing some of the letters to the fireplace nearby.
"The heir of Bywater appears to have a fixation with me and my rather large… wings, among other things. He called me his muse and wished to put around eight children in my womb," Galadriel stated as she scoffed. "Then there is a random lord of the Reach who wished to seek the delicious apple in the tree between my legs. I don't even know where to begin with that one."
Galadriel found it hard to fathom the overwhelming lust that permeated throughout Westeros. The sheer number of individuals who desired to seduce her in various manners was truly astonishing. Initially, she found it somewhat amusing, without a doubt. However, the constant stream of twelve consecutive letters, each describing a different part of her body in an excessively imaginative way, began to grow tiresome and exasperating.
"And I have to choose one as my husband," Galadriel mocked loudly. "The horror."
Why do I even bother with all of this? I must be a masochist of some kind.
Galadriel paused, her thoughts interrupted by a dry chuckle. To her surprise, it was Loras Tyrell, his smile barely contained. It was the first time she had seen him smile since her uncle Renly's death, now almost months ago. It clearly still weighed heavily on his mind.
"Something funny in particular, Ser Loras?" Galadriel asked.
"Not at all, your grace," he replied. "I mean, it cannot be that bad, right?"
Galadriel snorted as she then gave him one of the letters. "This is from one of the sons of Lord Bushy. I bet you know him," she said, and Loras simply began to read the letter before his face began to twist in amusement or disgust.
"Charming, isn't he?" Galadriel asked in a disgusted manner.
"Lord Bushy has a reputation… and it appears his sons are following it quite well," Loras mumbled, a bit embarrassed that this was one of his father's Bannerman.
"Nevertheless, I am thankful that I'll have a few days with more pressing matters in my mind than this… party that my mother and grandfather, and whoever else, are planning for me."
Galadriel, sitting on her chair with a sigh, contemplated the upcoming busy days. The truth was, tomorrow, the royal army would arrive in the Stormlands, and the ambitious dreams of the Blackfyre pretender would soon crumble in the face of destruction and chaos of fire and blood; at least, that's what the Targaryens said. Galadriel couldn't help but wonder if the boy truly comprehended the magnitude of the conflict he had thrown himself into. Perhaps he was so deluded, so blinded by his own beliefs, that he genuinely believed victory was within his grasp.
In anycase, on the other hand, she has not heard much from the Iron Island if her estimation were correct. Her uncle Stannis should be burning many of Ironborn for the so-called Lord of Light, or whatever his name was.
I just hope Shalltear doesn't get too excited.
Galadriel found herself contemplating what lay ahead. Once she successfully defended her throne, defeating the Blackfyre bastard and eliminating the troublesome Ironborn, she would finally have the power to establish a constitution of sorts. It was time to push Westeros to a new age. But also, an empire would be born out of this to establish something far better than seven separate kingdoms.
How could I bring this up to the lords of Westeros? Galadriel debated with herself, but she realised she wouldn't even need to tell them.
"I need to speak with my dear grandfather."
Galadriel stood up and spoke, announcing her plans. Outside her office, the Hound and a group of loyal soldiers awaited her. Mya, Gendry, Ser Barristan, and Jaime had already departed for the Stormlands. Soon, the remaining members would join them, just as Galadriel planned to do. However, that was a task for tomorrow. Today, she had a grand surprise in store for the Golden Lion.
Galadriel walked towards the tower where Tywin had his own office and was surprised to see his granddaughter there.
"Your grace?" Tywin called as he put the quill down.
"Leave us," Galadriel stated, and soon, only he and her remain in the room. "Grandfather, I hope I am not interrupting anything crucial."
Tywin leaned on his chair but simply shook his head. "Not at all. I am just helping you rule Westeros, your grace. But that could wait."
Galadriel rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. She gracefully walked over to a nearby table, deftly picking up a jar to serve him some wine. Noticing her actions, Tywin's attention was caught as she also poured herself a glass.
"Why do you serve yourself wine? You don't drink," Tywin said as Galadriel chuckled.
"I know, but I sort of like having a cup of wine in my hand. It makes me feel like a true schemer," Galadriel replied, which earned a snort from Tywin.
"And here I thought you did not need such a thing," Tywin said as he took a sip of wine. "The love of the common folk was enough, you said."
"True, but what I need for the future is not the love of the common folk but something else."
Tywin glanced at her and could notice in her golden eyes something more than just plain words.
"What do you want, your grace?"
Galadriel leaned forward and stared at him right into his eyes. "You want a legacy that would outshine the Targaryen and for it to thrive for over a thousand years, and as the current state of things is, that would not be possible if we don't take some crucial decisions."
Tywin's eyes were not even blinking anymore. He could see on his granddaughter's face something he sees from time to time when speaking about the realm. A little trace of mischievousness not many see often.
"What sort of decisions you speak of?" Tywin asked.
"Once these petty conflicts end, I plan to integrate the Seven Kingdoms into one empire," Galadriel stated without missing a beat.
Tywin would have laughed had anyone else uttered those words. However, his granddaughter's icy, calculated tone made him realise that she was genuine and deadly serious.
"An empire?" Tywin whispered.
"Yes," Galadriel said.
"How exactly do you propose to accomplish that? Are you aware of the implications?" Tywin asked, his words deliberately measured. "An empire has never existed in Westeros, and what you're suggesting would require the Great Houses of Westeros, the Seven Kingdoms, to relinquish their power. Because that's what you're doing, isn't it? Centralising power, with the bank doing the heavy lifting."
Galadriel chuckled upon hearing those words, confident that her grandfather would solve the puzzle sooner or later. Yet, she couldn't help but confess that Littlefinger and Varys were also likely piecing things together, along with a few others. Nevertheless, by the time they caught on, it would already be too late for them.
"Yes, took you long enough," Galadriel replied with a smile as she began to play with the cup of wine in her hand. Whoa, this is actually fun to do. It makes me feel all villainous!
"When did you figure it out?" Galadriel asked.
"The loans you force the Tyrell to take, along with many other families following suit, are all beginning to depend on what the bank gives them. But there's more to it, I suppose."
Galadriel nodded with a hum. "You sound a bit surprised," she said.
"I am surprised that my granddaughter is playing a game of her own, and that it took me so long to figure it out. Still, I feel that you're hiding more."
Oh, you have no idea! Galadriel chuckled internally.
"I am doing what I think is the best for my family," Galadriel replied, trying to put up the loving and innocent card she always had.
"And an empire would help us?" Tywin asked, his green eyes staring at her.
"More than you realised," she stated, and Tywin only stared at her for a few seconds.
"How would you go about doing this?" That was the only question he posed. Tywin did not underestimate her or suggest abandoning such an idea. He seemed genuinely intrigued by it.
"First, the Lannister family is in a position that no other family has ever been. Not since the heyday of the Targaryen rule. However, we face the same demise if we don't consolidate our power now."
"The Targaryen tried that," Tywin said.
"And failed because, at the end of the day, they weren't Westerosi. The houses gave their crowns and swords, sure. But never their power," Galadriel replied. "The great lords still had their power, and their armies, of course, dragons, kept them in check most of the time, but that only lasted... what? A few decades, a hundred years before the Targaryen cannibalise themselves in petty civil wars?"
"And you're asking them to give that," Tywin now said. "I am a lord of a great house, your grace. You're telling me to give my rights, my lands, my army. Why would I want that?"
"Because you have no other choice," Galadriel replied, her voice seemingly mocking Tywin in some way. "I didn't establish a bank solely to exert control over the great houses. My intention was also to invest in the common people, as they are the ones who hold the key to the future. The welfare of the common folk is my primary concern, not the interests of the great houses."
Tywin rested his weight against his chair, fixing his gaze upon his granddaughter. His face remained devoid of any emotion, an expressionless mask.
"I understand that, given your authority willingly, is not an idea you're looking forward to. Nor should any other lord for that manner. Slowly, however, I am moving the common folk to stop thinking about the kingdoms as separate identities. It will take time, a few decades perhaps, for them to stop calling themselves as Reachmen, Northerner, or Westerlanders, instead, they will call themselves… Westerosi. That's the identity I want for them."
Galadriel then took a sip of wine before making a disgusted face and spat it out. "Ew, why do people like this?" she mumbled before putting the cup of wine on the desk.
"The wars have been giving me more authority. The new laws have been passed and agreed upon, which give me more authority over small parts of the seven kingdoms, but that's not enough. I will write a constitution that will bind the Seven Kingdoms as one identity, as one empire, with me, the empress, as the ultimate authority, and I want you, grandfather, to help write it."
Tywin sat there, hearing that statement, and could not even react properly.
"That's quite the ambition, your grace," Tywin only replied.
"Grandfather, in the eyes of the common folk, I represent divine intervention, the closest semblance to a living deity. With my dragons, my wings, and my very being... can you sincerely believe that the people of Westeros will heed their lord's words instead of mine?"
Tywin remains silent for a few minutes. He was not a fervent believer—he stopped being one a long time ago—but everything that his granddaughter has accomplished has been almost divine. Tywin was afraid, even though he won't admit it, let alone show it. He was afraid of what his granddaughter could become.
Is this the gods' answer? When I asked for someone to bring the Lannister name to a height never seen before? Tywin thought deeply.
"What about the Lannister family?" Tywin asked her, going directly to the point, and noticed a smile on her face.
"My family, our family, will become the royal family, the Lannisters, of course. The Baratheon's name will continue as it is, but I believe we can devise something new. How about 'Lannister of King's Landing'? What are your thoughts on that?" Galadriel said as she pointed at the area on the map lying on Tywin's desk.
"I am already thinking of creating a palace near… here… it's going to be a palace that will put Summerhall to shame. And I want my future lions to be born there, as well, to be the seat of the Lannister's seat in the Crowlands."
Tywin nodded slowly. However, his green eyes still looked unconvinced. "What about the Westerlands? And Casterly Rock?" He asked.
"The Westerlands are always going to be under Lannister's control, grandfather. Don't worry about that. Casterly Rock will always be our ancestral home. But now, once the empire is established, the Lannisters will be known as the Lannisters of Westeros. With Tommen marrying into the Baratheon, both houses will be under Lannister's control... and soon, later on, I plan on united them into one. The House of the Lion and Stag."
"And Myrcella, control of Dorne, albeit dubious," Tywin added. "And Tyrion's marriage to Sansa will ensure the Stark support for an entire generation to come."
"Still, what you want to do will require a lot of political moves, and a constitution is only as powerful as the people endorsing it and making it law. Without fail, the great Houses need to accept it and recognise you as the ultimate sovereign of Westeros. And that's quite a hard thing to do."
"I know, and I am going to make compromises with them. But at the end of the day, they will accept it."
Tywin scoffed at her, but he was a bit surprised. "Alright, tell me… how will you do this?"
Galadriel smiled as she realised that at least her grandfather was willing to listen to her. She won't need to do Plan B with him.
The piercing sound of a man's screams filled the air as he was stabbed and cut down, resonating amidst the ongoing battle on the sea near Pyke, the Iron Islands. Stannis Baratheon observed the vast expanse of ships engulfed in flames and couldn't help but acknowledge the impressive resistance put up by the Ironborn. However, it became apparent that once the element of surprise had dissipated, their lack of discipline became their downfall.
"Savages, just like before," Stannis hissed.
"My lord!" Davos exclaimed as he looked battered and tired.
"Ser Davos, have our man landed on Pyke?"
"Yes, my lord, they have, but the Iron-born fleet has targeted the ships with siege equipment," Ser Davos replied.
Stannis observed the ongoing battle at sea, as well as the one unfolding on the shores of Pyke. He knew that once the Iron Born lost their ships, the rest of the island would fall.
"They are doing their best to hold us here, is in the sea where they can defend themselves better," Stannis stated. Before soon, between the smoke and fire, a large ship charged Stannis's flagship. Stannis's face became rigid, as he soon saw on top of the ship a man with an eye patch.
"Stannis Baratheon, brother of past king Robert Baratheon," the man said with a twisted smile.
"Lord," Stannis replied stoically. "Lord Stannis Baratheon. If you are to speak to me, you will speak accordingly."
Ser Davos stood up after being knocked down by the impact of the black ship. He could only feel dread and a strong feeling of something wrong with that man: that eye, the blue colour of his lips, the madness of it all. Ser Davos could only feel as if this man was something else entirely.
"Well, spoke like a true Baratheon," the man replied with a chuckle. "Then, you should know me as Euron Greyjoy, King of Salt and Rock, son of the Sea wind, King of the Iron Islands and the North."
Euron proclaimed, but it wasn't a loud one, but more of a chilly one, almost a whisper, that was barely audible. Yet, Stannis recognised that name.
"You're one of Balons's brothers," Stannis looked at him, and Euron could only chuckle.
"If you came here to kill my brother, then it is too late," Euron replied.
"Having the pleasure of his death may be disappointing, but I am here to end the Greyjoy line," Stannis declared loudly, as in the distance, what's left of the Ironborn's fleet began to slowly be overwhelmed by the royal navy. However, Euron did not appear to be troubled at all because so many of his countrymen were dying all around him. In fact, the surrounding chaos thrilled Euron.
"A god doesn't need an heir," Euron stated loudly. "Neither mortal title, and that's what I am… a god."
Stannis stared at him, realising he was speaking with a madman.
"You're not a god… you'll never be a god," Melissandre stated as she walked behind Stannis. "There is only one, and he has already his chosen one."
"Ah, a Red priestess… how much would you like to bet that your Lord of Light will fail to convey his message to this world once I ascend?" Euron teased.
"You will not," Melissandre replied.
"I am not going to find it out by fighting you," Euron smiled before his eyes glared at the sea below his ships. The red colour was tainting it all, just like he wanted. A great battle, a glorious death. He could even smell it in the air.
"No, no, no, I am not here to fight you, Lord Stannis," Euron mocked. "I am not here to even stop the destruction of Pyke of the Iron Island. Take them! Destroy them! Kill everyone! Let the blood rush down to the sea!"
Euron's smile widened as a powerful rush of wind crashed against the sails of every ship. There was a palpable sense of something momentous unfolding around them, something big approaching the bay. And it brought a smile to Euron's face.
"You will rejoice! You should rejoice!"
Euron exclaimed, not knowing how true that statement was.
High above in the sky, Shalltear stared down. And now she was wearing her full battle armour, and she was utterly excited about what was about to happen.
"{My lady,}" Shalltear called through [Message].
"{Shalltear, what's happening?}"
"{I found a possible god from this world.}" Shalltear said, and soon, Galadriel's voice seemed to change fast.
"{I'll bring Pandora's Actor with me. Stay put and use only defensive skills. Call for [Gate], we are going.}"
"{Understood, my lady.}"
Shalltear hummed softly as she glanced down at the vast sea below. She could feel a surge of anger emanating from the unknown creature, or whatever it may be. However, its significance was lost in Shalltear. Her sole purpose was to eliminate it and present the victory to her esteemed lady.
"I do hope you are as strong as you look," Shalltear teased as she smirked widely. Then, she looked at one of the ships far below, where a crazy man was exclaiming things that did not make sense to her.
"What a weird fellow," Shalltear mumbled, a bit amused, before focusing on the upcoming task at hand.
