(Lyonel Baratheon's Estate, Hill of Rhaenys, King's Landing, Blackwater Bay, The Crownlands, Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, Westeros, Planetos)
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(Lady Margaery Tyrell POV)
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It was the day before the Tourney, after the first night she'd spent at the prince's estate, her Grandmother had insisted on Loras and several guards joining them to prevent any hint of something remotely improper. She understood, even if it was a tad late. Lyonel promised her that none would speak of what had occurred between them.
She wished that she had his certainty. But Reach courtly intrigue had its ways of bypassing any such barriers. No matter how strong they were perceived to be.
One thing she was sure of, was that Crown Prince Lyonel Baratheon had a true monster between her legs. She was grateful for the knowledge he had a paramour for once. However, she would need to direct him away from her eventually.
But for the moment she had a more pressing matter… preparing suitable tokens of her favor for Prince Lyonel during the Tourney. One for each event.
She was well aware of the knightly superstitions regarding tokens of favor for events. One token per event, none before the day of jousting has begun, and so on and on and on.
Besides, providing her betrothed with her favor would reflect well on them both. She was aware that for the most part, in the journeys before this, he'd carried the favor of his mother or sister depending on whether or not his Uncle Jaime was riding in the lists.
It was time to show her presence…
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(POV Shift: Crown Prince Lyonel Baratheon)
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Lyonel Baratheon stood on a small pedestal. Several pages were busy helping the servants arm and armor him. His Mare had been prepared as well. He was wearing armor in the colors of House Baratheon and an antler helm. Aside from showing his pride and his house, the points of the helmets Antlers were sharp and pointed and he could use that as a weapon in the melee.
The first rounds of the jousts were first, followed by the melee, and Archery, before the quarterfinals, semifinals, and final jousts would close out the Tourney.
But there was a matter he'd been considering.
''Send for Tommen and Willem Lannister, and Ser Ronnet Connington.'' He instructed Captain Greer, who dutifully nodded his head and left.
''What are you thinking?'' Asked Aurane.
''That your brother's a prick for calling Daeneria back to Driftmark.'' He japed.
''Ha!'' Aurane barked, before giving him a quizzical look. ''And?'' He pressed.
''That I should take pages and a squire. Tommen and Willem are old enough to be pages. And Ser Ronnet's bastard son is old enough to be a squire.'' Says Lyonel.
''The Conningtons fought against House Baratheon during the rebellion, their own liege lords.'' Aurane reminded him.
''As did your father.'' Lyonel recalls. ''Fact is, Ser Brynden Tully declined the Kingsguard role. Let's leave that spot vacant for now. Figure out where everything stands. I figure in a bit of time, Ronnet's bastard might be worthy of elevation to the Kingsguard and if he declines, maybe a letter of legitimization is in order. Either way, I want the Conningtons to be loyal. And House Grandison will follow their lead.'' Says Lyonel.
''You're father will never agree to that.'' Says Aurane.
''My father is as likely to die from feasting too much as he is from a hunting accident. I love him, but he needs to be removed from power sooner than later. If not by his own pastimes then by an early abdication. We're six million in debt Aurane. Mostly to grandfather, House Tyrell, and worst of all the Iron Bank of Braavos. That can't last. I've ideas of how to pay off those debts, but I can't do them while my father reigns.'' He tells his friend when Ser Mandon enters.
''Ser Ronnet Connington.'' Mandon grunts.
''Send him in.'' Lyonel instructed.
''Crown Prince Lyonel.'' Ser Ronnet bows his head.
''Ser Ronnet. I'll not mince words. I called you here because I wanted to make you you an offer.'' He says, watching as Ronnet pauses slowly. ''Your father inherited a diminished title and estate. From Lord's to Knights. When I ascend to the Iron Throne I offer you a chance to reclaim all that was lost.'' He continued, watching the hope in Red Ronnet's eyes.
''I am at your service, my prince.'' Ronnet promised.
''I find myself lacking a squire. You have a bastard son. One Ronald Storm. I would take him as my Squire, I would also offer you a suitable bride, I'm sure my betrothed has a cousin or two who could use a good husband, whose star is rising.'' The look in Ronnet's eyes is telling.
He's well aware of what a marriage - even to a member of one of the many branches - to a member of House Tyrell would mean for his house, and the debt that would be created between them. The taking of Ronald Storm as the squire of the Crown Prince, on its own, that would be seen as an act of reconciliation and it would also be seen as a turn in the fortunes of House Connington. The marriage of Ronnet to even a minor member of House Tyrell would set a tone, and it would benefit the Conningtons a great deal, particularly given the closeness of the woman he intended to marry Red Ronnet, and his own bride.
''Ronald would serve well your grace, shall I send for him?'' Asks Ronnet, visibly trying not to sound too eager.
''He's here?'' Lyonel asks, knowing full well the boy wasn't.
''Ah, no. He's at Griffin's Roost. But he can be here within a few days.'' Ronnet promised.
''Then send for him, I shall speak to Margaery.'' Says Lyonel, Ronnet bows his head, and departs, just as Willem and Tommen enter.
''Brother!'' Tommen greets happily, and Lyonel ruffles his hair.
''Boys, I had something I wanted to ask you…''
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(POV Shift: Daenerys Targaryen)
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Drogo had commanded that the Khalasar make camp for a few days. Give their horses a chance to rest and graze before making for Vaes Dothrak directly.
She had decided to take advantage of it to learn from Ser Jorah more about Westeros. To her surprise, Drogo had decided to join them.
''The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros have nine regions. The North, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, the Vale of Arryn, the Reach, the Stormlands, the Iron Islands, the Crownlands, and Dorne. The great houses leading those regions are - in order - Houses Stark, Tully, Lannister, Arryn, Tyrell, Baratheon of Storm's End, Greyjoy, Baratheon of King's Landing, and Martell.'' Ser Jorah explained, taking a moment to translate to Drogo he nodded and grunted in understanding.
''King Robert was at one point a peerless warrior, but it's his eldest son we need to be wary of. Prince Lyonel was mentored by his grandfather and trained under the deadliest knight in the Seven Kingdoms. He is liable to be a brilliant, perhaps ruthless tactician.'' Jorah warned, before translating for Drogo.
''Tell me of this grandfather.'' Drogo commanded.
''He helped the Khaleesi's father run his people for over twenty years, before resigning in protest of one of the Khal's decisions. When the Khaleesi's eldest brother was killed by Robert Baratheon, Tywin Lannister joined the rebels and sacked the city of the Royal Family. The man ordered the deaths of the Khaleesi's goodsister, and niece and nephew.'' He said in accented Dothraki.
''Is he great warrior?''' Drogo asked.
''Yes and no. His greatest strength as a warrior is his mind. He personally crushed insurbordinate and lesser Khal's who spat on his father's generosity, and raised rebellion when he demanded they paid their debts, wiped the entire family lines out and wrecked the homes of those fools. He also helped shape the Khalaaka into who he became in the Greyjoy Rebellion. When House Greyjoy rebelled, they first burned the wooden horses of the family at anchor, and led a small force into the city. The Khalaaka slew one of the Khal's who'd sworn allegiance to House Greyjoy, and took his Valyrian Steel sword for his own. When I rode with Khal Eddard Stark, it was the Khalaaka who helped design our strategy.'' Ser Jorah explained.
''The Khalaaka sounds like a Khal already.'' Drogo grunted.
''Perhaps, Khal Drogo. As I said, he was trained by the greatest fighter alive in the Sunset Kingdoms. This same man served the Khaleesi's father once upon a time, and fought against the Khal Robert Baratheon with her brother, Rhaegar Targaryen. He even wounded the great stag, before he was overwhelmed and Baratheon slew the brother.'' Jorah explained.
''A worthy bloodrider?'' Drogo asked.
''Had he been Dothraki - and dare I say it - he would have been one of the few men who could be seen as your equal.'' To that, her husband grinned savagely, apparently pleased by the notion.
The lesson continued for a while, before Drogo called an end to it, he had grown tired of the conversation and wished to ride. She chose to stay, and learn more, with which she could relay to Drogo later.
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(POV Shift: Lord Monford Velaryon)
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He'd taken advantage of the movements of the Usurper King, going North to appoint Eddard Stark as his hand, and taking his heir with him. He'd recalled Daeneria to driftmark. His daughter had played her part well, giving them eyes and ears at court, and someone close to the Crown Prince. The recent arrival of House Tyrell was unexpected, but it too was an opportunity.
Viserys Targaryen was the true King, by right of inheritance, but the boy hadn't stepped foot in Westeros since his exile. Monford would not pin all of his hopes and loyalties to an unknown. He didn't know whether or not the boy had inherited Aerys Madness, or if princess Daenerys had, or if they both had. What he did know was that placing Daeneria near the Crown Prince had been an excellent choice. His daughter becoming the Prince's Paramour was just good fortune, the prince refusing to set her aside despite his betrothal was the real prize.
Monford had called Daeneria back to driftmark to inform her of new priorities. She had to secure her place by his side, whether that meant with a child or through subterfuge mattered little. The Tyrell's had always been overeager, and they had their chance to marry into the royal family, they failed to live up to it. He would not settle for second best or second place. It seemed his daughter needed a reminder of that.
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(POV Shift: Lord Eddard Stark)
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A session of the Small Council had been called, and while Prince Lyonel was unable to attend due to the fact he was taking part in a practice tourney among the various members of his Antlers and Claws regiment, that wasn't an unwelcome thing. Despite his gratitude to the prince for favoring short and expedient meetings that were also productive, it gave him a chance to further analyse the members of the Small Council. Even if he detested these meetings.
Before them this day stood the acting commander of the City Watch, one Ser Addam Marbrand. Despite being the heir to Ashemark and a good friend of the Kingslayer, the man was by all accounts a fine young man and a good replacement for the corrupt Janos Slynt.
''The watch is severely undermanned, my efforts to root out the corruption has been a little too effective, we've lost a little over half our numbers, Slynt it seems was an excellent corruptor. All but five senior officers have been hanged on charges, and many of the rank and file are barely fit to saddle a horse. Crown Prince Lyonel gave me Seven Hundred members of his Antlers and Claws, to help stem the loss a little, but it's a temporary solution. My brothers and sisters are not meant to be a dedicated replacement.'' Ser Addam reported.
''And? What else?'' Stannis pressured the youth. ''My nephew wouldn't hand over such a large number of his finest men because of just that.''
''As a result of the losses, we're barely able to keep order. Dozens of brawls, a handful of murders, multiple stabbings, a brothel fire, and several drunken horse races down the streets of Silk and Sisters and… ah the list goes on and on. Lord Renly has the full report.'' He said tiredly.
''You've done well, all things considered. But this loss of men is a concern.'' Renly notes. ''Why have so many left?'' The King's youngest brother asked.
''I gave them a choice, they could stay, where if they were found engaging in the criminal enterprises started by Slynt or themselves, they'd face another choice of death or the wall, or they could leave and take their chances somewhere else. More than half left. Makes me wonder how many were actually corrupt, or just looking to get out from under the corrupt officers.'' That was a rather telling explanation, and it raised his opinion of the Heir to Ashemark.
If only slightly.
''You'll get fifty. Lord Baelish will see it paid for.'' He says.
''I will?'' Baelish asks, surprised.
''You found money for a champion's purse. You'll find money to keep the peace.'' He says sharply, giving Littlefinger a pointed look. ''I'll also give you twenty five of my household guards until the crowds have left.'' He adds.
''You'll get twenty five of my men as well.'' Lord Stannis added. Ned sent him a nod of gratitude and acknowledgement.
''Thank you, Lord Hand, Lord Stannis. They will be put to good use, you have my word.'' Says Ser Addam, before bowing his head and departing.
''The sooner this is over the better.'' He says once Ser Addam has left, taking a sip from his cup.
''The realm prospers From such great events my Lord, they give the great a chance at glory and the lowly a respite from their woes.'' Says Varys.
''And every inn or tavern in the city is full and all the whores are walking bowlegged.'' Baelish said crudely.
''I'm sure the Tourney puts coins in many pockets.'' He says, to which Littlefinger. Now, if there's nothing else my Lord's…'' He says, standing up, to which the others take as their cue to leave.
When Grand Maester Pycelle pauses. He sees his opportunity for a private conversation.
''Ah, this heat…'' Pycelle began, chafing at his chain and collar. ''On days like this, I envy you northerners and your summer snows. Until tomorrow my Lord.'' Pycelle said.
''I've been hoping to talk to you about Jon Arryn.'' Ned said quickly.
''Lord Arryn? Hmm, his death was a great sadness to all of us. The King and Crown Prince especially. I took personal charge of his care, but I could not save him.'' Pycelle said sadly, before growing thoughtful. ''His sickness struck him very hard, and very fast. He was in agony for over a week. But Lord Arryn was fighting it off well. I saw him in my chambers just before the night he passed. Lord Jon often came to me for counsel.'' He explained to Ned.
''Why?'' He asked simply.
The Grand Maester bristles, before responding.
''I have been the Grand Maester for many years. I have served countless kings. The likes of Aegon the Unlikely, Jaehaerys the Second, to the Mad King, and now King Robert. Kings, Hands and Queens have often come to me for advice.'' Southerners and their easily wounded pride.
''What did Jon Arryn want?'' He clarified.
''Ah. He was inquiring after some book.''
''A book? What Book?'' He asked, slightly surprised. Jon was a learned man who enjoyed reading it was true, but to do so while so ill unless it was of vital importance was quite out of character for him.
''Ah, I feel it would be of little interest to you my lord. A ponderous time.'' Pycelle said, and Ned didn't trust his words. The man was trying and failing to deflect his interest.
''Ah, I'd like to read it all the same.'' Says Ned, hoping to find some Clue as to why Jon Arryn was killed, and why Lysa believed it was done at the order of the Queen.
He couldn't find the truth without a clue to place him on the trail, and only the truth would prove the queen's guilt, or absolve her of any presumed guilt.
Without it, he could end up tearing the realm apart with baseless accusations and he'd be doing himself and Robert a great disservice in that regard.
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(POV Shift: Lady Sansa Stark)
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She'd had a miserable past week. The Crown Prince's delusions suddenly seemed far less delusional.
The attack against her sister notwithstanding, Joffrey up to that point had the perfect prince. Now, he had Been avoiding her, scorning her for her mere presence. She blamed Arya as much as the Crown Prince yet she could not discount Joffrey's role in her misery.
She was so confused. Not knowing whom to blame.
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(POV Shift: Queen Cersei Lannister)
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The duties of a mother were a burden unlike any other. She'd spent years trying to foster a good relationship between Lyonel and Joffrey. Yet it seems the God's saw fit to have the story of Aegon and Rhaenyra play out once more. Except this time it was between both of her Sons.
Right now, it fell to her to soothe Joffrey's foul temper, and get him to repair some of the damage he's done.
Lyonel made no secret of his intentions To disinherit Joffrey. She could hardly blame him… considering how bad things have been between her boys these last few years…
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(Author's Note:)
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Will cover Cersei and Coffee next chapter, and the rest Of Ned and Pycelle. We'll also see Jon and Tyrion at the Wall. I have a lot of problems with shows and books. Primarily, that the timeline isn't consistent early on. Either way I still have a lot of work to still do and not a whole lot of time.
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