Its gonna be harmonius because Aegon backs Edmure as Lord of the Riverlands. If the others revolt they will get smacked down
The Crowned Dragons - A Game of Thrones Mod
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I can't just declare everyone guilty, thirteen of them are dead, that will have to do.
I would do, but as I mentioned above to guillec87, I can't just kill all of them, the main Freys who perpetrated the RW are dead, finding minor accomplices is too difficult a task. Also, yes, Lancel Lannister does hold Darry, giving the new lords of the Westerlands a decent sized chunk of the Riverlands.
As for Stannis, Myrcella had him shipped off to the wall shortly before I took the city. In a very short time, he's risen up to pretty much be third in command, behind Jon Snow and Jaime Lannister. An interesting group, to say the least.
I wanted to return the Riverlands to the Tullys as quickly as possible, to ensure I had a strong ally there. I'm also constantly looking for an ally in the Westerlands, should the Lannisters cause me more problems in the future.
CHAPTER VI - SEVEN KINGDOMS
The landing on the Iron Islands went as expected. With little over four thousand men to defend the islands, the Ironborn retreated to their keeps, providing us an easy landing from sea. I took thirty thousand men to the islands, a force that was a bit excessive, true, but my aim was to show these rebels the futility of their actions. Ser Richard Horpe took ten thousand men and landed on Harlaw, while Ser Franklyn Flowers, a knight of the Golden Company who pledged his sword to me, took another ten and landed on Great Wyk. I took the remaining ten thousand to assault Pyke itself. Should we take the three largest islands, the Ironborn would be left with no choice but to submit.
With so few men, it was not long before the keeps of the Iron Islands began falling to my forces. In a surprise turn, Pyke was the first of the great keeps to fall. The defenders held out for a number of months, but the Ironborn rely too much on trade and pillaging, with an absence of both, their provisions soon ran low. It shocked me to learn that their king was absent from his own great seat however. According to one man, he had slipped out before my forces landed, taking a few thousand men of his own to assault the capital in my absence. Unable to return to King's Landing, I sent word to the capital, calling on my Hand to muster up a force and deal with the invaders, capturing or killing Euron Grejoy if they could.
With Pyke secured, the last few refuges of the Ironborn soon fell. Ser Franklyn secured the island of Harlaw in a matter of months, and with the majority of Great Wyk subjugated, Richard Horpe marched on Saltford- the last bastion of Ironborn resistance- and it too fell shortly thereafter. With Saltford secured, the Ironborn submitted. By all accounts, the war on the islands was over, and it was time to return home. We had not received news about the Crow's Eye however, so we remained vigilant on the voyage back to the capital, should we find it in our enemy's hands.
Though a small part of me was worried that I would return to the capital to find it ablaze, those thoughts were quickly dashed when my vessel docked at the port, to find Lord Jon himself there to greet me. Do you think so little of me, your grace, the Hand said in jest, that you believe I would be unaware of the Crow's Eye's impending invasion? Apparently, Lord Jon's own scouts had foreseen the invasion for some time, and a force was already mustered to greet them, and Euron Greyjoy's landing ended in disaster, his army was scattered and he himself was taken prisoner. He is currently being held in the dungeon, your grace, awaiting your sword.
By the tone of Lord Jon's voice, and the words he spoke, he no doubt intended for me to take the Greyjoy lord's head, as retribution for his treason. However, I had other intentions. Should I kill the head of the Greyjoy house, the Iron Islands would surely fall into chaos, something that I could not suffer. After a week or so, deliberating on the decision, in which I had received a number of other important updates from my Small Council, I had the Crow's Eye brought before the Iron Throne, to bend the knee, as his brother had done all those years ago. Though the Hand still seemed disproving of my decision, I had at least partially convinced him of our need of House Greyjoy. Without them, we could not hope to contain the Ironborn, and to that end at least, we agreed.
Though dealing with Euron Grejoy was the most pressing concern at hand, the other news from my Small Council was by no means unimportant in comparison. The first piece of news I received was not done so with my ears, but with my eyes. When summoning my Small Council, I was shocked to see Princess Arianne Martell at the table, taking the place of her lord father, Prince Doran. When questioned, she informed me of her father's passing, having finally succumbed to his gout, and that she had taken up his place as my new Master of Whisperers. I pulled Lord Jon to one side, to ask him how this had happened, and he informed me that it was his own doing. She is just as talented as her father, your grace, he told me, you will see that in the coming years. Lord Jon had thought it best to grant Princess Arianne the position, to keep the relations with Dorne strong. They had been our staunchest ally in claiming the throne, and their loyalty would not so easily be forgotten.
The other news that reached me was of the passing of another- this time in the form of Myrcella Lannister herself. In my absence, the girl had come of age, and as such, was now legally permitted to request a trial by combat, a matter she was apparently well aware of. With few friends left in the capital, the Lady Myrcella called upon Ser Benedict Broom, her grandfather's old Master-at-Arms. The man was old, granted, but if Tywin Lannister saw him to be a skilled and dutiful warrior, it would have been foolish to take the man lightly. With both myself and Lord Commander Rolly away fighting in the Iron Islands, it fell to another knight of the Kingsguard to stand as my own champion. According to Lord Jon, Balon Swann offered to stand for me.
Ser Balon had served as a member of the Kingsguard to Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella, before he too joined my own Kingsguard. While the majority of the Kingsguard were stripped of their cloaks upon my seizure of the throne, I allowed Ser Balon to remain in service of me- a gesture I extended only to him and my wife's brother, Loras. He was an honorable man, one who took his vows seriously, and above all else an exceptional warrior. To stand against the girl who he had once been sworn to protect must have been difficult for him, but he swore an oath to serve his king, and serve his king he would. According to my Hand, the fight did not last long. Ser Benedict lunged forward from the off, and Ser Balon sidestepped the attack before sending his opponent crashing to the floor with a solid blow to the back. With a swift and strong blow, Ser Balon pierced Ser Benedict's plate, driving his sword through the old man's chest, killing him instantly.
With the fight over in a matter of moments, the verdict was reached, and in the sight of gods and men, Myrcella Lannister was sentenced to death. Not only did Ser Balon stand for me against Lady Myrcella's champion, he too was the one to see to her execution. The man was loyal, be he was not a monster. Rather than having the girl dragged to the block, in the sight of a screaming crowd, the man secured the Essence of Nightshade from Grandmaester Pycelle's stores, an brought it to the girl in her chambers the night before her sentence was to be dealt. With ten drops known to be fatal to a grown man, the knight added the contents of the bottle to Myrcella's meal that night, and allowed the girl to go to sleep as she normally would. She did not wake from that sleep however, and Ser Balon was provided a means of escaping from the thought of lopping of the young girls head.
With that, the last of the Usurper's supposed children were dead, and all Lannister claimants to the throne were gone. The Lannisters were subdued, at least for now, and the Iron Islands was once more brought to heel. For the first time since the War of Five Kings began, the Seven Kingdoms were at peace. Though my coronation was held well over a year ago by this time, it was on the day that Euron Greyjoy knelt before me that I truly felt my reign had began. Before I had reclaimed the Iron Islands, I was not the King of the Seven Kingdoms, but the king of only six. With the Ironborn subjugated once more, the realm was at long last unified. To mark the occasion, I called on my Hand and Master of Coin to make preparations for a grand Tourney. It was to be the largest the realm had seen since the Tourney of Harrenhal, and was sure to end much differently.
The landing on the Iron Islands went as expected. With little over four thousand men to defend the islands, the Ironborn retreated to their keeps, providing us an easy landing from sea. I took thirty thousand men to the islands, a force that was a bit excessive, true, but my aim was to show these rebels the futility of their actions. Ser Richard Horpe took ten thousand men and landed on Harlaw, while Ser Franklyn Flowers, a knight of the Golden Company who pledged his sword to me, took another ten and landed on Great Wyk. I took the remaining ten thousand to assault Pyke itself. Should we take the three largest islands, the Ironborn would be left with no choice but to submit.
With so few men, it was not long before the keeps of the Iron Islands began falling to my forces. In a surprise turn, Pyke was the first of the great keeps to fall. The defenders held out for a number of months, but the Ironborn rely too much on trade and pillaging, with an absence of both, their provisions soon ran low. It shocked me to learn that their king was absent from his own great seat however. According to one man, he had slipped out before my forces landed, taking a few thousand men of his own to assault the capital in my absence. Unable to return to King's Landing, I sent word to the capital, calling on my Hand to muster up a force and deal with the invaders, capturing or killing Euron Grejoy if they could.
With Pyke secured, the last few refuges of the Ironborn soon fell. Ser Franklyn secured the island of Harlaw in a matter of months, and with the majority of Great Wyk subjugated, Richard Horpe marched on Saltford- the last bastion of Ironborn resistance- and it too fell shortly thereafter. With Saltford secured, the Ironborn submitted. By all accounts, the war on the islands was over, and it was time to return home. We had not received news about the Crow's Eye however, so we remained vigilant on the voyage back to the capital, should we find it in our enemy's hands.
Though a small part of me was worried that I would return to the capital to find it ablaze, those thoughts were quickly dashed when my vessel docked at the port, to find Lord Jon himself there to greet me. Do you think so little of me, your grace, the Hand said in jest, that you believe I would be unaware of the Crow's Eye's impending invasion? Apparently, Lord Jon's own scouts had foreseen the invasion for some time, and a force was already mustered to greet them, and Euron Greyjoy's landing ended in disaster, his army was scattered and he himself was taken prisoner. He is currently being held in the dungeon, your grace, awaiting your sword.
By the tone of Lord Jon's voice, and the words he spoke, he no doubt intended for me to take the Greyjoy lord's head, as retribution for his treason. However, I had other intentions. Should I kill the head of the Greyjoy house, the Iron Islands would surely fall into chaos, something that I could not suffer. After a week or so, deliberating on the decision, in which I had received a number of other important updates from my Small Council, I had the Crow's Eye brought before the Iron Throne, to bend the knee, as his brother had done all those years ago. Though the Hand still seemed disproving of my decision, I had at least partially convinced him of our need of House Greyjoy. Without them, we could not hope to contain the Ironborn, and to that end at least, we agreed.
Though dealing with Euron Grejoy was the most pressing concern at hand, the other news from my Small Council was by no means unimportant in comparison. The first piece of news I received was not done so with my ears, but with my eyes. When summoning my Small Council, I was shocked to see Princess Arianne Martell at the table, taking the place of her lord father, Prince Doran. When questioned, she informed me of her father's passing, having finally succumbed to his gout, and that she had taken up his place as my new Master of Whisperers. I pulled Lord Jon to one side, to ask him how this had happened, and he informed me that it was his own doing. She is just as talented as her father, your grace, he told me, you will see that in the coming years. Lord Jon had thought it best to grant Princess Arianne the position, to keep the relations with Dorne strong. They had been our staunchest ally in claiming the throne, and their loyalty would not so easily be forgotten.
The other news that reached me was of the passing of another- this time in the form of Myrcella Lannister herself. In my absence, the girl had come of age, and as such, was now legally permitted to request a trial by combat, a matter she was apparently well aware of. With few friends left in the capital, the Lady Myrcella called upon Ser Benedict Broom, her grandfather's old Master-at-Arms. The man was old, granted, but if Tywin Lannister saw him to be a skilled and dutiful warrior, it would have been foolish to take the man lightly. With both myself and Lord Commander Rolly away fighting in the Iron Islands, it fell to another knight of the Kingsguard to stand as my own champion. According to Lord Jon, Balon Swann offered to stand for me.
Ser Balon had served as a member of the Kingsguard to Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella, before he too joined my own Kingsguard. While the majority of the Kingsguard were stripped of their cloaks upon my seizure of the throne, I allowed Ser Balon to remain in service of me- a gesture I extended only to him and my wife's brother, Loras. He was an honorable man, one who took his vows seriously, and above all else an exceptional warrior. To stand against the girl who he had once been sworn to protect must have been difficult for him, but he swore an oath to serve his king, and serve his king he would. According to my Hand, the fight did not last long. Ser Benedict lunged forward from the off, and Ser Balon sidestepped the attack before sending his opponent crashing to the floor with a solid blow to the back. With a swift and strong blow, Ser Balon pierced Ser Benedict's plate, driving his sword through the old man's chest, killing him instantly.
With the fight over in a matter of moments, the verdict was reached, and in the sight of gods and men, Myrcella Lannister was sentenced to death. Not only did Ser Balon stand for me against Lady Myrcella's champion, he too was the one to see to her execution. The man was loyal, be he was not a monster. Rather than having the girl dragged to the block, in the sight of a screaming crowd, the man secured the Essence of Nightshade from Grandmaester Pycelle's stores, an brought it to the girl in her chambers the night before her sentence was to be dealt. With ten drops known to be fatal to a grown man, the knight added the contents of the bottle to Myrcella's meal that night, and allowed the girl to go to sleep as she normally would. She did not wake from that sleep however, and Ser Balon was provided a means of escaping from the thought of lopping of the young girls head.
With that, the last of the Usurper's supposed children were dead, and all Lannister claimants to the throne were gone. The Lannisters were subdued, at least for now, and the Iron Islands was once more brought to heel. For the first time since the War of Five Kings began, the Seven Kingdoms were at peace. Though my coronation was held well over a year ago by this time, it was on the day that Euron Greyjoy knelt before me that I truly felt my reign had began. Before I had reclaimed the Iron Islands, I was not the King of the Seven Kingdoms, but the king of only six. With the Ironborn subjugated once more, the realm was at long last unified. To mark the occasion, I called on my Hand and Master of Coin to make preparations for a grand Tourney. It was to be the largest the realm had seen since the Tourney of Harrenhal, and was sure to end much differently.
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As for replacing the Lannisters, you could try and convince the Imp to come home. Otherwise you could give the lands of gold mines to old Golden Company pals.
I hope Ser Kevan remains loyal... though I don't like the Lannisters, it is sad to see such a great family gone
I never thought about that. Though unfortunately Harry Strickland died from old age recently, I'll be sure to keep his second in command in mind.
Here's hoping. Even as the king, I don't particularly fancy facing the might of Casterly Rock. As for the Lannisters being extinguished, I highly doubt that will happen. There are so many minor Lannisters, even with the big ones gone, the house will still survive.
Poor Myrcella. In the books, she's kind of an unfortunate and innocent character, never prominent but likeable.
In the books, she's kind of an unfortunate and innocent character, never prominent but likeable.
Poor Myrcella.
As was Tommen. Out of the three bastard children, only one of them truly deserved the fate they got. But, such is the way of war.
Lannisters murdered an innocent prince and princess. They owed a debt of blood, and Lannisters pay their debts...
Well, they didn't quite get the prince in that scenario, did they.
Though the Lannisters deserved to face justice, I stand by my sentiments that Tommen and Myrcella were good, innocent children, they just so happened to be at the very heart of a war, and casualties of it as a result.
CHAPTER VII - A GOLDEN LION AND A GOLDEN ROSE
Following the death of the last Usurper, Myrcella Lannister, the realm saw roughly two years of relative peace, all things considered. It began with the grand tourney of King's Landing- or the Tourney of the Reclaimant as it was know to the smallfolk. It was as grand a spectacle as anyone in the kingdoms had seen for decades, and as I had wished, my lord hand informed me that it rivaled even the Tourney of Harrenhal in extravagance. The tourney was not without mishap however, yet fortunately it was not marred in the same manner as the Tourney of Harrenhal was all those years ago. One contestant ended up dead, yet who the man was remained a mystery. The man was larger than any I'd ever seen, and was surely strong enough to hack a man in two in one fell swoop. How his horse bore the weight of him, I did not know.
The man remained helmed for the duration of the tourney, and did not break words with anyone, even up until the point of his death. Rumor began spreading that it was Ser Gregor Clegane in actuality, a lapdog of Tywin Lannister, and the man responsible for my supposed death during the sack of the city. The smallfolk claimed that after his fight with the viper, Ser Gregor was reanimated and served in Tommen Lannister's Kingsguard under the name of Ser Robert Strong. They said he was dead, and that was why he never showed his for nor uttered a word. The truth of the matter was lost to me, but I did know that whoever the man was, he now lay dead in the dirt before me, a victim of a wayward lance. At the end of the proceedings, Ser Rickard Fell was the single man left undefeated, securing for himself the winner's purse, and the adulation of the people to boot. It was a successful event to say the least, and an excellent way to appeal to the masses of my Kingdom. I could only hope my fortunes would remain the same in the future.
It was not half a year after that the tourney that the fragile peace in my kingdom began to crack. Through the laws of inheritance, the duchy of Cornfield in the Westerlands, had passed on to a lord of the Stormlands, and thus fell under the jurisdiction of my Hand, Lord Jon Connington. Kevan Lannister, the man I had put my faith in to mend the fragile relationship between Houses Lannister and Targaryen by naming him Lord of the Westerlands, repaid my faith in him by declaring war on the Stormlands, in order to claim the land that rightfully belonged to Casterly Rock. Though serving as my Hand, Lord Jon sent word to his vassals in the Stormlands to muster an army and march on the Westerlands, while news reached me that Kevan Lannister was leading his own host towards Cornfield.
It would have been a long, bloody and ultimately pointless war over such a small parcel of land, but luckily it never came to that. Though Lord Jon was prepared for war, he sought council in me, his long time friend and king, to call a stop to the madness that was about to beset the realm. Though in years past, Cornfield would have lawfully fallen under the jurisdiction of House Lannister and Casterly Rock, the laws of inheritance could not be ignored. It was by the lawful passing of titles upon death that Cornfield fell into the hands of the Stormlanders, and that was a fact that I could not ignore. If I was to be a just king, I must uphold my own laws. Before the armies could ever meet, I sent word to Kevan Lannister to lay down his arms and accept my decision as law. Tywin Lannister and his brother had never been foolish men, and luckily that showed when Lord Kevan accepted my terms and returned to Casterly Rock, no doubt feeling scorned, but still remaining in my good books- at least for the time being. I could only hope that Lancel Lannister and the future heirs of Casterly Rock could show as much smarts as their forebears.
That thought would be put to the test shortly thereafter, as news reached me not weeks after the confrontation, that Kevan Lannister had died. It was believed to be brought about by some stress, but mainly due to his advanced age. Taking his place at the the seat of Casterly Rock was his eldest son, Lancel Lannister. According to Lord Varys, the boy had served as a glorified lackey for his more prominent cousins, before turning to the Faith militant during the war. Under the guidance of the High Septon, the boy took a vow of celibacy, and pledges himself to the Warriors Sons. However, upon the death of his father, he returned to the Westerlands to take up his seat as the new Lord of the Westerlands. Though still a young man, his vows of celibacy meant that it was highly unlikely he would father any heirs, and as such, his titles would eventually pass to his brother, Martyn, in time.
Kevan Lannister's death left me without a Master of Coin, and I made the decision to grant the position to my brother-by-marriage, Willas Tyrell. Willas Tyrell had replaced his father as the Lord of Highgarden and the Reach during my war for the throne, and has served me loyally ever since. He led the forces of the Reach gallantly- not to borrow his brother's nickname- even with his crippled leg. Without Lord Willas' aid, it would have been unlikely that the strength of the Golden Company and Dorne would have been enough to secure the throne. The man was skilled with a sword, but more so with a purse. He would make a fine Master of Coin.
I sent word to Highgarden, informing Lord Willas of his appointment to my Small Council, and demanding his presence in the capital as soon as it was viable. However, weeks later I received a counter letter from Highgarden- Lord Willas had an invitation of his own. To his grace King Aegon, I, Lord Willas Tyrell, hereby invite his grace to participate in the Grand Tourney of Highgarden at the coming of the next full moon. Should his grace accept this invitation, I would ask that word be sent in advance of his grace's arrival, in order for the proper preparations to be made. The Tourney of King's Landing had been a joy to behold, but the chance to participate in a tourney was far more appealing. I had been groomed since a young age to be king- trained in the art of diplomacy and warfare- yet never before in my life had I the opportunity to participate in a tourney. Finally, I thought to myself, a chance to prove my worth.
Following the death of the last Usurper, Myrcella Lannister, the realm saw roughly two years of relative peace, all things considered. It began with the grand tourney of King's Landing- or the Tourney of the Reclaimant as it was know to the smallfolk. It was as grand a spectacle as anyone in the kingdoms had seen for decades, and as I had wished, my lord hand informed me that it rivaled even the Tourney of Harrenhal in extravagance. The tourney was not without mishap however, yet fortunately it was not marred in the same manner as the Tourney of Harrenhal was all those years ago. One contestant ended up dead, yet who the man was remained a mystery. The man was larger than any I'd ever seen, and was surely strong enough to hack a man in two in one fell swoop. How his horse bore the weight of him, I did not know.
The man remained helmed for the duration of the tourney, and did not break words with anyone, even up until the point of his death. Rumor began spreading that it was Ser Gregor Clegane in actuality, a lapdog of Tywin Lannister, and the man responsible for my supposed death during the sack of the city. The smallfolk claimed that after his fight with the viper, Ser Gregor was reanimated and served in Tommen Lannister's Kingsguard under the name of Ser Robert Strong. They said he was dead, and that was why he never showed his for nor uttered a word. The truth of the matter was lost to me, but I did know that whoever the man was, he now lay dead in the dirt before me, a victim of a wayward lance. At the end of the proceedings, Ser Rickard Fell was the single man left undefeated, securing for himself the winner's purse, and the adulation of the people to boot. It was a successful event to say the least, and an excellent way to appeal to the masses of my Kingdom. I could only hope my fortunes would remain the same in the future.
It was not half a year after that the tourney that the fragile peace in my kingdom began to crack. Through the laws of inheritance, the duchy of Cornfield in the Westerlands, had passed on to a lord of the Stormlands, and thus fell under the jurisdiction of my Hand, Lord Jon Connington. Kevan Lannister, the man I had put my faith in to mend the fragile relationship between Houses Lannister and Targaryen by naming him Lord of the Westerlands, repaid my faith in him by declaring war on the Stormlands, in order to claim the land that rightfully belonged to Casterly Rock. Though serving as my Hand, Lord Jon sent word to his vassals in the Stormlands to muster an army and march on the Westerlands, while news reached me that Kevan Lannister was leading his own host towards Cornfield.
It would have been a long, bloody and ultimately pointless war over such a small parcel of land, but luckily it never came to that. Though Lord Jon was prepared for war, he sought council in me, his long time friend and king, to call a stop to the madness that was about to beset the realm. Though in years past, Cornfield would have lawfully fallen under the jurisdiction of House Lannister and Casterly Rock, the laws of inheritance could not be ignored. It was by the lawful passing of titles upon death that Cornfield fell into the hands of the Stormlanders, and that was a fact that I could not ignore. If I was to be a just king, I must uphold my own laws. Before the armies could ever meet, I sent word to Kevan Lannister to lay down his arms and accept my decision as law. Tywin Lannister and his brother had never been foolish men, and luckily that showed when Lord Kevan accepted my terms and returned to Casterly Rock, no doubt feeling scorned, but still remaining in my good books- at least for the time being. I could only hope that Lancel Lannister and the future heirs of Casterly Rock could show as much smarts as their forebears.
That thought would be put to the test shortly thereafter, as news reached me not weeks after the confrontation, that Kevan Lannister had died. It was believed to be brought about by some stress, but mainly due to his advanced age. Taking his place at the the seat of Casterly Rock was his eldest son, Lancel Lannister. According to Lord Varys, the boy had served as a glorified lackey for his more prominent cousins, before turning to the Faith militant during the war. Under the guidance of the High Septon, the boy took a vow of celibacy, and pledges himself to the Warriors Sons. However, upon the death of his father, he returned to the Westerlands to take up his seat as the new Lord of the Westerlands. Though still a young man, his vows of celibacy meant that it was highly unlikely he would father any heirs, and as such, his titles would eventually pass to his brother, Martyn, in time.
Kevan Lannister's death left me without a Master of Coin, and I made the decision to grant the position to my brother-by-marriage, Willas Tyrell. Willas Tyrell had replaced his father as the Lord of Highgarden and the Reach during my war for the throne, and has served me loyally ever since. He led the forces of the Reach gallantly- not to borrow his brother's nickname- even with his crippled leg. Without Lord Willas' aid, it would have been unlikely that the strength of the Golden Company and Dorne would have been enough to secure the throne. The man was skilled with a sword, but more so with a purse. He would make a fine Master of Coin.
I sent word to Highgarden, informing Lord Willas of his appointment to my Small Council, and demanding his presence in the capital as soon as it was viable. However, weeks later I received a counter letter from Highgarden- Lord Willas had an invitation of his own. To his grace King Aegon, I, Lord Willas Tyrell, hereby invite his grace to participate in the Grand Tourney of Highgarden at the coming of the next full moon. Should his grace accept this invitation, I would ask that word be sent in advance of his grace's arrival, in order for the proper preparations to be made. The Tourney of King's Landing had been a joy to behold, but the chance to participate in a tourney was far more appealing. I had been groomed since a young age to be king- trained in the art of diplomacy and warfare- yet never before in my life had I the opportunity to participate in a tourney. Finally, I thought to myself, a chance to prove my worth.
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What is dead may die again, it seems. So much for the sayings of the pirates.
You'd think after so many failed attempts at rebelling, the Ironborn would give up on that stupid saying. :laugh:
Absolutely stellar writing so far. Looking forward to reading the rest of Aegon VI's reign, and see what fate might hold in store for young Rhaegar.
Why thank you, kind sir. This AAR is certianly proving that regardless of what happens during the rules of Aegon and Rhaegar, it won't be boring.
CHAPTER VIII - CHANGING RELATIONS
The Tourney of Highgarden was an extravagant spectacle, but could not match the grandeur of my own from the months past. Dozens of highborn lords and knights from across the realm gathered at the seat of House Tyrell, to determine a worthy champion and gain the admiration of the people. Though king, a position that would normally be granted a pass into the later rounds, I refused, instead opting to win my way to the later rounds, and hopefully to the final. Each of the twenty four participating lords drew stones to determine placement and opponent for the coming proceedings. For the first round, I drew Ser Narbert Grandison, a knight of my own Kingsguard. A large man with broad shoulders, and an exceptional warrior with both sword and lance, Ser Narbert would prove a stiff test for my first ever foray into tourneys.
To my utter humiliation, the day- and the tourney- ended quite abruptly, soon after it had began, for me. After a handful of near misses, and a number of broken lances, Ser Narbert's lance eventually found it's mark, crashing into my left shoulder. The hit came to my lance arm, causing enough of an impact to offset my balance, and the momentum did the rest. As I fell to the floor, the crowd rose to their feet, shocked at the sight of their king being thrown on his ass. To their relief and adulation, I quickly rose to my feet and let out a laugh before congratulating Ser Narbert. The laugh was all I could muster to hide my embarrassment. It would truly have been a spectable for a first-timer to win a tourney, your grace Narbert whispered to me, don't be too harsh on yourself. After a number of days, the final two men remaining were Godry the Giantslayer, Lord of Farring Cross, and Lord Harrold Arryn of the Vale. Eventually, the Giantslayer unhorsed Lord Harrold, leaving him to be crowned champion.
With the tourney complete, I returned home to King's Landing, accompanied this time by Lord Willas, who was to serve as my new Master of Coin. Upon my return, I held a meeting of the Small Council, to discuss the current standing and affairs of the realm. My wife- and Master of Laws- Margaery informed me of a number of diplomatic tensions between the crown and the rest of the kingdoms, and offered up some advice as to how best overcome these tensions. With the loyalty of the Reach, the Stormlands and Dorne never in question, and the loyalty of the Riverlands and the North secured after the war, only the loyalty of the Westerlands, the Iron Islands and the Vale remained dubious. A Grejoy rebellion had just been put down, and tension with them was at a high, while there was hope that as the new Lord of Casterly Rock, Lancel Lannister would be a far tamer lion than his father and uncle. That left only the situation of the Eyrie and it's lord, Harrold Arryn, to be examined.
Lord Robert Arryn, the only son of Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully, had been the Lord of the Vale during the war, and was responsible for their siding with the now-ex king and queen. However, the boy was weak and sickly, and did not make it out of his years of youth. Instead, the Vale passed to his cousin, Harrold, a strapping young man and a fine leader in battle. Though he had yet to speak out against the crown in any form, the loyalties of the Arryn lord had not firmly been secured, and relations with the Eyrie needed to be improved, should we ever require their assistance in war. As such, my lady-wife advised that I send word to Lord Harrold, asking that his son and heir Kyle be sent to the capital to serve as my personal ward. As my ward, the boy would be raised alongside my own son, Rhaegar, and hopefully would develop a strong bond with the boy that would serve as a strong alliance in the future. After all, Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon had served as wards to Jon Arryn in their youth, and formed a friendship that was enough to usurp the throne. The young Arryn boy would serve to keep the Vale in check for the time being, while hopefully strengthening the bond between Houses Arryn and Targaryen for the future.
The loyalties of our most prominent vassals aside, the next issue of business to address was one of faith. Years ago, in an attempt to claim the throne, Stannis Baratheon turned to the false god- the Red God or the Lord of Light as he is oft called- and a number of his vassals and other lords in the kingdoms turned their back on the Seven and their forebears. Dragonstone was still heavily under the influence, but in time the Septon that I sent their would surely revert the territory back to the Faith. A few minor lords of the Westerlands had converted to this false religion, but news soon reached the capital that one had converted back to the Faith. Riverspring had renounced their false god, and with that, Lady Margaery suggested that septons should be sent to these blasphemous counties, in an attempt to revert them and improve diplomatic relationships with them as a result. I took her advice and had eight septons sent to various lands, in hopes that they would return promising news shortly.
In the following months, Margaery bore me a third child, and a second son at that. Born in the light of the Seven, we named the boy Maelor, in honor of a Targaryen boy during the Dance that did not live to see out a life that he was so cruelly robbed of. Like my other children, the boy had strong Targaryen characteristics. Silver hair and purple eyes made it clear to all that the seed was strong. Rhaegar and Rhaenys were of similar age, and would one day wed each other as such. However, Maelor was now a number of years young, though hopefully the age gap would not weaken any bonds between him and his siblings. Hopefully my wife Margaery would bear me more children in the future, not only a daughter to wed to Maelor, but perhaps more sons to continue on the Targaryen legacy, and support their brother upon his ascension to the throne.
It was not long after the birth of Maelor that two ravens appeared in the capital, bearing grievous news. The first one had been sent from Casterly Rock. To the dishonorable King Aegon, the letter read,under the pretense of your plans to falsely accuse and banish me from the realm, this is a formal declaration of war. I will see you on the field of battle. The wax seal bore a lion in full-roar- the seal of House Lannister. Yet again proving my foolishness in trusting the Lannisters, Lord Lancel had risen up against me, claiming that I had intents to revoke his lands and banish him to the wall. This was, of course, nonsense, and no doubt the work of one of my vassals seeking to undermine my authority. As to who was behind such a plot, that answer came quickly after the news of the Lannister's uprising.
The second raven had been sent from the Iron Islands, from the Crow's Eye himself more specifically. Aegon Targaryen, we have had enough of your Housee's dominion over the Iron Islands, and so henceforth I shall rule over an independent realm from Pyke. We shall win this right on the battlefield if necessary. And so, three years after the conclusion of his last rebellion, 'King' Euron Greyjoy once again declared war on the Iron Throne, declaring himself the Iron King of the Iron Islands. At the conclusion of the last war, I had allowed the Greyjoy lord to bend the knee, but I would not be so foolish twice. House Grejoy and House Lannister would be brought to heel with fire and blood, and when victory was secured, they would pay the price for their treason, I swear it by all the gods. I've had enough of these petty wars, now it was time to crush my enemies.
The Tourney of Highgarden was an extravagant spectacle, but could not match the grandeur of my own from the months past. Dozens of highborn lords and knights from across the realm gathered at the seat of House Tyrell, to determine a worthy champion and gain the admiration of the people. Though king, a position that would normally be granted a pass into the later rounds, I refused, instead opting to win my way to the later rounds, and hopefully to the final. Each of the twenty four participating lords drew stones to determine placement and opponent for the coming proceedings. For the first round, I drew Ser Narbert Grandison, a knight of my own Kingsguard. A large man with broad shoulders, and an exceptional warrior with both sword and lance, Ser Narbert would prove a stiff test for my first ever foray into tourneys.
To my utter humiliation, the day- and the tourney- ended quite abruptly, soon after it had began, for me. After a handful of near misses, and a number of broken lances, Ser Narbert's lance eventually found it's mark, crashing into my left shoulder. The hit came to my lance arm, causing enough of an impact to offset my balance, and the momentum did the rest. As I fell to the floor, the crowd rose to their feet, shocked at the sight of their king being thrown on his ass. To their relief and adulation, I quickly rose to my feet and let out a laugh before congratulating Ser Narbert. The laugh was all I could muster to hide my embarrassment. It would truly have been a spectable for a first-timer to win a tourney, your grace Narbert whispered to me, don't be too harsh on yourself. After a number of days, the final two men remaining were Godry the Giantslayer, Lord of Farring Cross, and Lord Harrold Arryn of the Vale. Eventually, the Giantslayer unhorsed Lord Harrold, leaving him to be crowned champion.
With the tourney complete, I returned home to King's Landing, accompanied this time by Lord Willas, who was to serve as my new Master of Coin. Upon my return, I held a meeting of the Small Council, to discuss the current standing and affairs of the realm. My wife- and Master of Laws- Margaery informed me of a number of diplomatic tensions between the crown and the rest of the kingdoms, and offered up some advice as to how best overcome these tensions. With the loyalty of the Reach, the Stormlands and Dorne never in question, and the loyalty of the Riverlands and the North secured after the war, only the loyalty of the Westerlands, the Iron Islands and the Vale remained dubious. A Grejoy rebellion had just been put down, and tension with them was at a high, while there was hope that as the new Lord of Casterly Rock, Lancel Lannister would be a far tamer lion than his father and uncle. That left only the situation of the Eyrie and it's lord, Harrold Arryn, to be examined.
Lord Robert Arryn, the only son of Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully, had been the Lord of the Vale during the war, and was responsible for their siding with the now-ex king and queen. However, the boy was weak and sickly, and did not make it out of his years of youth. Instead, the Vale passed to his cousin, Harrold, a strapping young man and a fine leader in battle. Though he had yet to speak out against the crown in any form, the loyalties of the Arryn lord had not firmly been secured, and relations with the Eyrie needed to be improved, should we ever require their assistance in war. As such, my lady-wife advised that I send word to Lord Harrold, asking that his son and heir Kyle be sent to the capital to serve as my personal ward. As my ward, the boy would be raised alongside my own son, Rhaegar, and hopefully would develop a strong bond with the boy that would serve as a strong alliance in the future. After all, Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon had served as wards to Jon Arryn in their youth, and formed a friendship that was enough to usurp the throne. The young Arryn boy would serve to keep the Vale in check for the time being, while hopefully strengthening the bond between Houses Arryn and Targaryen for the future.
The loyalties of our most prominent vassals aside, the next issue of business to address was one of faith. Years ago, in an attempt to claim the throne, Stannis Baratheon turned to the false god- the Red God or the Lord of Light as he is oft called- and a number of his vassals and other lords in the kingdoms turned their back on the Seven and their forebears. Dragonstone was still heavily under the influence, but in time the Septon that I sent their would surely revert the territory back to the Faith. A few minor lords of the Westerlands had converted to this false religion, but news soon reached the capital that one had converted back to the Faith. Riverspring had renounced their false god, and with that, Lady Margaery suggested that septons should be sent to these blasphemous counties, in an attempt to revert them and improve diplomatic relationships with them as a result. I took her advice and had eight septons sent to various lands, in hopes that they would return promising news shortly.
In the following months, Margaery bore me a third child, and a second son at that. Born in the light of the Seven, we named the boy Maelor, in honor of a Targaryen boy during the Dance that did not live to see out a life that he was so cruelly robbed of. Like my other children, the boy had strong Targaryen characteristics. Silver hair and purple eyes made it clear to all that the seed was strong. Rhaegar and Rhaenys were of similar age, and would one day wed each other as such. However, Maelor was now a number of years young, though hopefully the age gap would not weaken any bonds between him and his siblings. Hopefully my wife Margaery would bear me more children in the future, not only a daughter to wed to Maelor, but perhaps more sons to continue on the Targaryen legacy, and support their brother upon his ascension to the throne.
It was not long after the birth of Maelor that two ravens appeared in the capital, bearing grievous news. The first one had been sent from Casterly Rock. To the dishonorable King Aegon, the letter read,under the pretense of your plans to falsely accuse and banish me from the realm, this is a formal declaration of war. I will see you on the field of battle. The wax seal bore a lion in full-roar- the seal of House Lannister. Yet again proving my foolishness in trusting the Lannisters, Lord Lancel had risen up against me, claiming that I had intents to revoke his lands and banish him to the wall. This was, of course, nonsense, and no doubt the work of one of my vassals seeking to undermine my authority. As to who was behind such a plot, that answer came quickly after the news of the Lannister's uprising.
The second raven had been sent from the Iron Islands, from the Crow's Eye himself more specifically. Aegon Targaryen, we have had enough of your Housee's dominion over the Iron Islands, and so henceforth I shall rule over an independent realm from Pyke. We shall win this right on the battlefield if necessary. And so, three years after the conclusion of his last rebellion, 'King' Euron Greyjoy once again declared war on the Iron Throne, declaring himself the Iron King of the Iron Islands. At the conclusion of the last war, I had allowed the Greyjoy lord to bend the knee, but I would not be so foolish twice. House Grejoy and House Lannister would be brought to heel with fire and blood, and when victory was secured, they would pay the price for their treason, I swear it by all the gods. I've had enough of these petty wars, now it was time to crush my enemies.
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The Lion and the Kraken fight the Dragon. Intresting, given the lack of men in the isles you can hopefully sweap them aside with ease. As for the Lannisters, spare no one...
It's only been a few years since I put down about five thousand Ironborn, surely they can't have many more than that.
As for the Lannister's I'll put this here, just in case you are interested, but it does contain a spoilers:
It didn't take long to crush Lancel, but yet again I made the foolish decision to trust the Lannisters. What's that, strike ten? They retained their lordships, but I at least took off Lancel's head, as some recompense for the troubles they've caused me.
The problem with the Lannisters and the Westerlands is that there's no obvious replacement for the Lannisters. Any family that would've had either the wealth, influence or power to supplant the Lannister's influence there has been brought to heel or outright crushed, ala the Reynes. I know in-game terms they'd be easy enough to replace, but for story purposes the Lannisters are as central to power in The Westerlands as The Starks are to The North.
This is something that has been lingering in the back of my mind. I'll deal with Lancel, and then I'll see where to go from there, but you're absolutely correct in thinking that. When this whole thing was kicking off, I began analyzing each region to determine who would make good rulers, should the old lords paramount not cooperate.
I was always going to give the North back to the Starks and the Riverlands back to the Tullys, so those weren't an issue. The Vale has House Royce or House Waynwood; the Conningtons have the Stormlands; the Iron Islands have House Harlaw; Dorne has House Yronwood; and the Reach has House Florent, House Hightower and House Redwyne. However, I could not think of anyone suitable to replace the Lannisters. Perhaps House Westerling could do the job, but that is a big if. I guess that speaks to the legacy of Tywin Lannister.