Not Quite So Many Kingdoms - A Game of Thrones AAR
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Chapter 14: Gwyneth VIII
52-55 AL
The months immediately after the wedding feast passed relatively peacefully. Not to say that they were uneventful; merely, Gwyneth's grasp on her vassals was secure enough to ensure that the most trouble that occurred was transparent plotting and disgruntled grumbling. The Lords Orton of Stonebridge, Leyton of Oldtown, and Loras of Highgarden tried to rally support for the previous Lord of the Reach, but could not sway anyone with their arguments. Gwyneth treated it as a minor annoyance at most, though she did decide to repay Loras for his kindness by maneuvering to incite his wrath and trigger a revolt so she could put it down and claim what could be considered as her ancestral home. One of them, anyway.
The matter of Beony's future husband was also settled in that same period, in that Lucimore Stonetree was promised to her (and not the other way around). He wasn't particularly exceptional, but everyone that knew him praised his great genius anyway.
Gwyneth also received multiple offers to attend small, local tourneys in the Reach; she rejected all of these out of hand, citing reasons of state (but really she just couldn't be bothered to sail over to the Reach, politely socialize for a few weeks, and then sail back).
This small period of idyllic peace was broken when Edmyn Tully, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, decided to press his own matrilineal claim on the North. The young Lord Bernarr, while well liked by his vassals, did not have a wider range of friends, and Edmyn Tully had the pull to bring in Lord Robar Arryn of the Vale and Lord Tyrion Lannister of the Westerlands. While the latter of the two suffered an unfortunate and mysterious death, his younger brother Leo succeeded him and honored the agreement anyway.
Taking advantage of the new, and very unmarried, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Lady Gwyneth sent out an envoy enquiring as to the possibility of a marriage between Leo and her second daughter, Gretchel. Somewhat surprisingly Leo, or possibly his regent, agreed, and while neither Leo nor Gretchel were old enough to marry yet, the date was set.
More time passed, during which the Iron Bank came to collect on its dues for technically lending its support to Gwyneth's assault (she steadfastly insisted it was only a peaceful occupation, which was technically true). While Gwyneth could not pay off the entire loan, a quick look at her books and an advance on the interest mollified the representative enough that he left.
Moreover, the newest regent in charge of the imbecile child Lord Steffon finally managed to muster an army large enough to besiege Highgarden. Gwyneth whistled and looked the other way.
In the early months of the fifty-third year after King Aegon's landing, King Maelon once again showed his interest in converting Gwyneth's sons by, once again, offering Prince Lucerys as a guardian and mentor, though for Wex this time. Given Wex's (and Lucerys') martial inclination, Gwyneth accepted the King's gracious offer.
Unfortunately, Gwyneth's plot to foment rebellion in her own lands (wow, that sounds weird) was foiled by the drunken boasting of Lord Ragnar of Old Wyk. Before any gains could be made by the small coalition, however, Lord Rolfe Orkmont, nephew of the excellent Qarl Orkmont, "found" some leverage on Lord Leyton and convinced him to withdraw his support, effectively neutering the small faction.
A few months later, and roughly fifteen months after the initial agreement between the Ladies Gwyneth and Gwyneth, Beony and Lucimore were married in a small, private ceremony on Pyke.
In more foreign news, the alliance of Lords that had come to claim the North for the Tullys finally clashed with Lord Bernarr's army. The Tully army had crossed the Neck and Moat Cailin and engaged the Stark host, culminating in a long, three day battle that finally saw the Tully army retreat and only half of the Stark host remain. Despite the victory, however, the young lord's fate was sealed, as the equally sizeable hosts of the Vale and the Westerlands were coming up the Neck behind the Tullys. Lord Brennar managed to hold on for nearly another year and a half, however, before he was finally defeated and Lord Edmyn became the second dual Lord Paramount in the Seven Kingdoms.
Curiously enough, during this time Lord Loras committed one error or another and suddenly found himself friendless, penniless, and landless. Facing this newfound predicament, he fled to Essos. In his place, his aunt Jeona became the Lady of Highgarden. Gwyneth accepted it without issue, even though she had had nothing to do with it; it was much harder to rally around a figurehead if the figurehead wasn't even in the same kingdom.
There was also a little side... issue with some imbecile that had decided to blackmail Gwyneth over one thing or another. For whatever reason, Gwyneth decided that rather than approaching her majordomo and having him handle it, she would rather ask Margot for help. Fortunately for the sisters (and very unfortunately for the blackmailer) they proved sufficient, maneuvering various courtiers and vassals until the blackmailer found himself in a small, locked room with an armed Gwyneth. Margot later arranged for a few unscrupulous individuals to dispose of the body, and the matter was finished. Later, when the blackmailer's quarters were searched, a surprisingly large amount of gold was discovered; in fact, it was enough to cover the rest of Gwyneth's debt to the Iron Bank, a debt that was promptly paid in full.
A few months later, Beony's fifteenth nameday came, and she spontaneously dyed her hair from brown to blonde. Why, Gwyneth couldn't quite figure out, though she did agree it looked very pretty on her. (Gretchel also turned out blonde later, and I don't quite know why. Guess there's a Lannister somewhere in my family tree)
In the last month of 54 AL, however, a curious letter arrived from the King, warning her to not engage in any factionalism. The letter itself was strange, as the only "faction" Gwyneth could be considered to be a part of were the Crown Loyalists that had declared their unwavering support for the King. Still, Gwyneth took the King's eccentricity in stride (especially since she was just too lazy to do anything that didn't happen to coincide with her ambitions; opposing the King was most certainly not on that list) and replied with a mollifying letter.
The war between the Tyrells and the Baratheons, which by this point had dragged on long enough, frankly, finally came to a disappointingly inconclusive end as both sides just agreed to a truce. Not that that particularly improved the Tyrell position, of course, as the now-infamous "Tyrell curse" struck again, killing Lady Jeona and leaving her son, Harlen, as the new Lord of Highgarden
The world turned on, Gwyneth found a corru-persuadable septon to knight Urzen (for a few, of course), she found a new, much more capable Master-of-Coin among one of the Reachlords that hated her less (Gwyneth avoided Margot for the next few days), which caused her to consider that, perhaps, the glass is not, in fact, half empty, and the Lord of Winterfell offered his sister's hand in marriage to Wex (though, again, both were too young to marry).
The midpoint of the fifty-fifth year after Aegon's landing, however, saw a remarkably bizarre event: the imprisonment of Prince Lucerys. Gwyneth never got to learn why the King had seen fit to imprison his son and heir, for just a short few months later, King Maelon ordered the public execution of Prince Lucerys Targaryen.
____________________________________
A/N: Dun-dun-duuuun!
But seriously, I have no clue why the AI did that. Also decided to go for a more summary-ish style this part, as the usual "slice of life" thing I do with Gwyneth didn't really seem appropriate here, since they would mostly just be council meetings.
52-55 AL
The months immediately after the wedding feast passed relatively peacefully. Not to say that they were uneventful; merely, Gwyneth's grasp on her vassals was secure enough to ensure that the most trouble that occurred was transparent plotting and disgruntled grumbling. The Lords Orton of Stonebridge, Leyton of Oldtown, and Loras of Highgarden tried to rally support for the previous Lord of the Reach, but could not sway anyone with their arguments. Gwyneth treated it as a minor annoyance at most, though she did decide to repay Loras for his kindness by maneuvering to incite his wrath and trigger a revolt so she could put it down and claim what could be considered as her ancestral home. One of them, anyway.
The matter of Beony's future husband was also settled in that same period, in that Lucimore Stonetree was promised to her (and not the other way around). He wasn't particularly exceptional, but everyone that knew him praised his great genius anyway.
Gwyneth also received multiple offers to attend small, local tourneys in the Reach; she rejected all of these out of hand, citing reasons of state (but really she just couldn't be bothered to sail over to the Reach, politely socialize for a few weeks, and then sail back).
This small period of idyllic peace was broken when Edmyn Tully, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, decided to press his own matrilineal claim on the North. The young Lord Bernarr, while well liked by his vassals, did not have a wider range of friends, and Edmyn Tully had the pull to bring in Lord Robar Arryn of the Vale and Lord Tyrion Lannister of the Westerlands. While the latter of the two suffered an unfortunate and mysterious death, his younger brother Leo succeeded him and honored the agreement anyway.
Taking advantage of the new, and very unmarried, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Lady Gwyneth sent out an envoy enquiring as to the possibility of a marriage between Leo and her second daughter, Gretchel. Somewhat surprisingly Leo, or possibly his regent, agreed, and while neither Leo nor Gretchel were old enough to marry yet, the date was set.
More time passed, during which the Iron Bank came to collect on its dues for technically lending its support to Gwyneth's assault (she steadfastly insisted it was only a peaceful occupation, which was technically true). While Gwyneth could not pay off the entire loan, a quick look at her books and an advance on the interest mollified the representative enough that he left.
Moreover, the newest regent in charge of the imbecile child Lord Steffon finally managed to muster an army large enough to besiege Highgarden. Gwyneth whistled and looked the other way.
In the early months of the fifty-third year after King Aegon's landing, King Maelon once again showed his interest in converting Gwyneth's sons by, once again, offering Prince Lucerys as a guardian and mentor, though for Wex this time. Given Wex's (and Lucerys') martial inclination, Gwyneth accepted the King's gracious offer.
Unfortunately, Gwyneth's plot to foment rebellion in her own lands (wow, that sounds weird) was foiled by the drunken boasting of Lord Ragnar of Old Wyk. Before any gains could be made by the small coalition, however, Lord Rolfe Orkmont, nephew of the excellent Qarl Orkmont, "found" some leverage on Lord Leyton and convinced him to withdraw his support, effectively neutering the small faction.
A few months later, and roughly fifteen months after the initial agreement between the Ladies Gwyneth and Gwyneth, Beony and Lucimore were married in a small, private ceremony on Pyke.
In more foreign news, the alliance of Lords that had come to claim the North for the Tullys finally clashed with Lord Bernarr's army. The Tully army had crossed the Neck and Moat Cailin and engaged the Stark host, culminating in a long, three day battle that finally saw the Tully army retreat and only half of the Stark host remain. Despite the victory, however, the young lord's fate was sealed, as the equally sizeable hosts of the Vale and the Westerlands were coming up the Neck behind the Tullys. Lord Brennar managed to hold on for nearly another year and a half, however, before he was finally defeated and Lord Edmyn became the second dual Lord Paramount in the Seven Kingdoms.
Curiously enough, during this time Lord Loras committed one error or another and suddenly found himself friendless, penniless, and landless. Facing this newfound predicament, he fled to Essos. In his place, his aunt Jeona became the Lady of Highgarden. Gwyneth accepted it without issue, even though she had had nothing to do with it; it was much harder to rally around a figurehead if the figurehead wasn't even in the same kingdom.
There was also a little side... issue with some imbecile that had decided to blackmail Gwyneth over one thing or another. For whatever reason, Gwyneth decided that rather than approaching her majordomo and having him handle it, she would rather ask Margot for help. Fortunately for the sisters (and very unfortunately for the blackmailer) they proved sufficient, maneuvering various courtiers and vassals until the blackmailer found himself in a small, locked room with an armed Gwyneth. Margot later arranged for a few unscrupulous individuals to dispose of the body, and the matter was finished. Later, when the blackmailer's quarters were searched, a surprisingly large amount of gold was discovered; in fact, it was enough to cover the rest of Gwyneth's debt to the Iron Bank, a debt that was promptly paid in full.
A few months later, Beony's fifteenth nameday came, and she spontaneously dyed her hair from brown to blonde. Why, Gwyneth couldn't quite figure out, though she did agree it looked very pretty on her. (Gretchel also turned out blonde later, and I don't quite know why. Guess there's a Lannister somewhere in my family tree)
In the last month of 54 AL, however, a curious letter arrived from the King, warning her to not engage in any factionalism. The letter itself was strange, as the only "faction" Gwyneth could be considered to be a part of were the Crown Loyalists that had declared their unwavering support for the King. Still, Gwyneth took the King's eccentricity in stride (especially since she was just too lazy to do anything that didn't happen to coincide with her ambitions; opposing the King was most certainly not on that list) and replied with a mollifying letter.
The war between the Tyrells and the Baratheons, which by this point had dragged on long enough, frankly, finally came to a disappointingly inconclusive end as both sides just agreed to a truce. Not that that particularly improved the Tyrell position, of course, as the now-infamous "Tyrell curse" struck again, killing Lady Jeona and leaving her son, Harlen, as the new Lord of Highgarden
The world turned on, Gwyneth found a corru-persuadable septon to knight Urzen (for a few, of course), she found a new, much more capable Master-of-Coin among one of the Reachlords that hated her less (Gwyneth avoided Margot for the next few days), which caused her to consider that, perhaps, the glass is not, in fact, half empty, and the Lord of Winterfell offered his sister's hand in marriage to Wex (though, again, both were too young to marry).
The midpoint of the fifty-fifth year after Aegon's landing, however, saw a remarkably bizarre event: the imprisonment of Prince Lucerys. Gwyneth never got to learn why the King had seen fit to imprison his son and heir, for just a short few months later, King Maelon ordered the public execution of Prince Lucerys Targaryen.
____________________________________
A/N: Dun-dun-duuuun!
But seriously, I have no clue why the AI did that. Also decided to go for a more summary-ish style this part, as the usual "slice of life" thing I do with Gwyneth didn't really seem appropriate here, since they would mostly just be council meetings.
Yeah the Tyrells are not getting the Reach back anytime soon. Tried playing the AAR save as Loras, only for him to have terrible prestige be in massive debt and within 10 minutes was thrown out of High-garden. Damn that Tyrell curse, wasn't the joke amongst us that Highgarden was the new Harranhall? 
but at least we have a tyrell still in Highgarden, which only happened after some backroom marriage deals years prior to make sure Jeona had a Tyrell son.
Also seems Maelon has got the wrong side of the coin, executing his son and heir!
but at least we have a tyrell still in Highgarden, which only happened after some backroom marriage deals years prior to make sure Jeona had a Tyrell son. Also seems Maelon has got the wrong side of the coin, executing his son and heir!
At this rate, the 'joke' of Highgarden being this timeline's Harrenhal seems more truth than fiction. Might be best not to inherit it, haha.
Chapter 15: Gwyneth IX
55 - 60 AL
"Not that I'm uninterested in seeing the capitol, mother, but why are we here?" Urzen asked.
"When the King asks you to a feast, you accept. Particularly if that King has just murdered his son and heir a month prior." Gwyneth responded.
Urzen considered the statement before nodding in agreement. Then, he chuckled and pointed in the direction of a heated argument between Rhaenys and two older Targaryen women who looked like the spitting images of each other. "Well, at least Rhaenys is enjoying this."
Gwyneth kept the argument on the edge of her vision. "Those are Ser Aerion's daughters, as I recall?" She wasn't really asking out of any desire to know; instead, her attention was riveted to the rapidly approaching form of the King. She wasn't exactly terrified of him, per se, but there was certainly a great deal of fear (enough that she hadn't even tried to kill Lucerys very young son to better leverage her marriage ties and existing... relationship with Maelon's third son). She lightly nudged her son to get his attention and curtsied once the King stopped in front of them.
"Your Grace." "Your Grace." The King nodded, and the two Greyjoys resumed their previous positions.
"How are you enjoying the feast so far, Lady Gwyneth, Lord Urzen?"
Urzen chuckled. "I'm not a lord, Your Grace, but I have to say the feast is very impressive." The yet was notable by its absence, and Urzen glanced at Gwyneth as he said that. Gwyneth ignored him; they'd already had the discussion, and the deal was simple: produce a child (by Rhaenys; spurning the royal family by taking a mistress is a remarkably terrible idea, regardless of how many dragons were left alive) and Gwyneth would relinquish one of her holdings.
Gwyneth made a show of looking around the positively massive pavilion before turning back to the King. "Yes, very impressive. I have to admit, neither Pyke nor Tyrosh even begin to approach this magnificence." She very pointedly did not mention Highgarden (though, with the way just about every Tyrell who had held it had suffered a very unfortunate fate, Gwyneth wasn't terribly invested in acquiring her mother's home; she was having Qarl work on it more as a way to find some excuse to further marginalize that branch of her continuously expanding family).
The King nodded, the opening pleasantries exchanged. "I am sorry about the disruption to your son's life. I trust little Wex is thriving?"
Gwyneth nodded, a little dumbstruck. She quickly recovered her voice. "Yes, he is." She smiled. "His new tutor tells me that Wex is a prodigy; one of the best he's ever seen." In response to King Maelon's raised eyebrow, Gwyneth elaborated. "His tutor is the lord of Alden Keep."
"Lord Reynard. A formidable warrior."
"Also a very good teacher." Urzen agreed.
Gwyneth's lazily-honed sense of self-preservation was screaming at her to get out. "It's been nice meeting you again, Your Grace. It's been..." she did a quick count in her head, then gave up, "a long time. Unfortunately, we can't stay for long, can we Urzen?"
He shook his head sadly. "No, we can't. We have to leave on the morrow for my sister's wedding. It's been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Your Grace." He turned slightly, indicating to the King that he was free to go. Gwyneth's sudden burst of panic proved unfounded , however, as the King simply took the invitation and wandered on to the still-continuing argument between the three Targaryen women.
"That was dangerous." Gwyneth said after some distance had been created.
Urzen smirked. "It was fun." Then he frowned. "You are aware he hasn't named you Warden of the South?"
Gwyneth shuddered. "At this point, I don't particularly care. I don't want to be in King's Landing any more than necessary; I don't quite think the King has a grip on his sanity anymore."
_________________________________________
The feast at Casterly Rock was, by comparison, far less fraught with tension, even if it wasn't quite as impressive as the massive banquet at King's Landing. The Lannister's wine cellars flowed freely, and there was quite the abundance of fresh and exquisite meat, both of which Gwyneth heavily indulged in.
When it came time for the dancing, Gwyneth accepted her husband Roro's offer and joined him. Their dance looked more like a flowing duel than dance to be honest, but it was still an impressive performance, certainly more-so than the awkward showing between the bride and groom. Gwyneth's relationship with her current husband was vastly different compared to Bryan; Roro made no requests, and did not try to exert his will or supposed power. He wasn't the most loving husband, but Gwyneth lived with it, as it was mostly for the sake of appearances. If she wanted love, well, Tristifer was always available.
The wedding ceremony itself was truly impressive, as the young Lannister had clearly spared no expense: an absurd amount of jewelry covered the bride and groom, and the cloak bearing the arms of House Lannister was a massive thing, made of felt and covered in gold.
The feast itself continued for another few hours after the ceremony, until the sun started to set and the new couple were bundled off to their bedchambers, their clothing stripped piece by piece along the way. Gwyneth had never quite understood that particular aspect of the Southron's customs, but she could certainly see the allure.
She couldn't quite remember what happened after that; while the years had been kind to her in terms of appearance and physical health, her ability to hold her drink had rapidly deteriorated, so it wasn't that surprising to her when she woke up the next morning with a massive hangover and no idea whose bed she was in. At least Roro was there as well; that would've been positively embarrassing.
And then, three weeks later, completely out of the blue...
Yup. The little Ironborn zealot converted within weeks of being married. I suppose marriage, and some level of love, causes strange things.
_____________________________________
The current peace in the realm continued uneventfully, for which Gwyneth was thankful. She had her hands full managing the menagerie that was the Lords of the Reach. Which is why she had found herself attending the tourney that her new Master-of-Coin was hosting. Normally she would have rejected the offer outright, but this was someone in her inner circle, and Gwyneth supposed that she would have to make some showing that endeared her to the Reachlords.
The tourney itself was entirely forgettable; a collection of third-rate hedge knights competing, with some minor noble occasionally stepping in. Gwyneth found herself struggling to stay awake as the remarkably dull sight of two men in patchwork armour charging at each other repeatedly with long wooden sticks repeated itself day after day.
The only mildly interesting event that had happened was when, on the way back to the Mander, some imbeciles had decided to try and stage a kidnapping attempt. Her husband and the Master-of-Arms were able to quickly drive them off, though they didn't particularly try to protect Gwyneth; she'd made it perfectly clear that she was capable of doing that herself, thank you, and that if they tried to stop her from fighting they'd find themselves missing a few fingers.
When she returned to Pyke, she ordered the construction of yet more additions to Pyke's... facilities. For the past few years, the guard stations and garrisons at Pyke had been steadily renovated and improved, and Gwyneth was finally able to arrange for the construction of a new training grounds so that the levies she periodically called from Pyke could be assembled faster, in greater numbers, and that the levies called would be of a higher quality.
At the same time, Gwyneth's prior temperance and proper diet started to give way to gluttony and shameless decadence. While she did not become fat - her constant training regimen, perhaps the one thing Gwyneth did with any regularity or vigor, kept her in good shape - she did start to put on more weight, and the tight-fitting gowns that she'd preferred to wear previously were no longer an option. (Bizarrely, since gluttony affects stewardship, this affected her stewardship enough to lower her demesne limit. Unfortunately for Urzen, he had not yet managed to impregnate his wife, despite his younger sister having already carried a child to term. Not a living child, unfortunately - which was particularly annoying as he was a genius - but still. Get to it.)
Two years after the marriage between Leo and Gretchel, Lady Lyessa Stark reached the age of maturity, and so the youngest of Gwyneth's progeny found himself married.
The feast itself could not be as decadent as Gwyneth preferred; her treasury had not yet completely recovered from the war and subsequent debt, and she was determined to maintain at least a positive balance. In addition, half a dozen High Lords of the Reach declined to attend citing various reasons that were doubtlessly just platitudes; the fact that Harlen Tyrell had been the first to decline was not lost on Gwyneth.
The ceremony and subsequent feast were still rowdy, however, and when Gwyneth suggested that they conduct the same bizarre bedding ceremony as the Southrons, the Ironborn lords took to it immediately. It did, admittedly, have the beginnings of a strange joke, what with a Northerner and an Ironborn participating in a Southron custom and all, but things went relatively well. At least this time Gwyneth didn't black out halfway through the night and wake up somewhere completely mysterious.
But, alas, all things come to an end, including the good...
_____________________________________
A/N: I'll say one thing: The Tyrell curse strikes again. Hard.
55 - 60 AL
"Not that I'm uninterested in seeing the capitol, mother, but why are we here?" Urzen asked.
"When the King asks you to a feast, you accept. Particularly if that King has just murdered his son and heir a month prior." Gwyneth responded.
Urzen considered the statement before nodding in agreement. Then, he chuckled and pointed in the direction of a heated argument between Rhaenys and two older Targaryen women who looked like the spitting images of each other. "Well, at least Rhaenys is enjoying this."
Gwyneth kept the argument on the edge of her vision. "Those are Ser Aerion's daughters, as I recall?" She wasn't really asking out of any desire to know; instead, her attention was riveted to the rapidly approaching form of the King. She wasn't exactly terrified of him, per se, but there was certainly a great deal of fear (enough that she hadn't even tried to kill Lucerys very young son to better leverage her marriage ties and existing... relationship with Maelon's third son). She lightly nudged her son to get his attention and curtsied once the King stopped in front of them.
"Your Grace." "Your Grace." The King nodded, and the two Greyjoys resumed their previous positions.
"How are you enjoying the feast so far, Lady Gwyneth, Lord Urzen?"
Urzen chuckled. "I'm not a lord, Your Grace, but I have to say the feast is very impressive." The yet was notable by its absence, and Urzen glanced at Gwyneth as he said that. Gwyneth ignored him; they'd already had the discussion, and the deal was simple: produce a child (by Rhaenys; spurning the royal family by taking a mistress is a remarkably terrible idea, regardless of how many dragons were left alive) and Gwyneth would relinquish one of her holdings.
Gwyneth made a show of looking around the positively massive pavilion before turning back to the King. "Yes, very impressive. I have to admit, neither Pyke nor Tyrosh even begin to approach this magnificence." She very pointedly did not mention Highgarden (though, with the way just about every Tyrell who had held it had suffered a very unfortunate fate, Gwyneth wasn't terribly invested in acquiring her mother's home; she was having Qarl work on it more as a way to find some excuse to further marginalize that branch of her continuously expanding family).
The King nodded, the opening pleasantries exchanged. "I am sorry about the disruption to your son's life. I trust little Wex is thriving?"
Gwyneth nodded, a little dumbstruck. She quickly recovered her voice. "Yes, he is." She smiled. "His new tutor tells me that Wex is a prodigy; one of the best he's ever seen." In response to King Maelon's raised eyebrow, Gwyneth elaborated. "His tutor is the lord of Alden Keep."
"Lord Reynard. A formidable warrior."
"Also a very good teacher." Urzen agreed.
Gwyneth's lazily-honed sense of self-preservation was screaming at her to get out. "It's been nice meeting you again, Your Grace. It's been..." she did a quick count in her head, then gave up, "a long time. Unfortunately, we can't stay for long, can we Urzen?"
He shook his head sadly. "No, we can't. We have to leave on the morrow for my sister's wedding. It's been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Your Grace." He turned slightly, indicating to the King that he was free to go. Gwyneth's sudden burst of panic proved unfounded , however, as the King simply took the invitation and wandered on to the still-continuing argument between the three Targaryen women.
"That was dangerous." Gwyneth said after some distance had been created.
Urzen smirked. "It was fun." Then he frowned. "You are aware he hasn't named you Warden of the South?"
Gwyneth shuddered. "At this point, I don't particularly care. I don't want to be in King's Landing any more than necessary; I don't quite think the King has a grip on his sanity anymore."
_________________________________________
The feast at Casterly Rock was, by comparison, far less fraught with tension, even if it wasn't quite as impressive as the massive banquet at King's Landing. The Lannister's wine cellars flowed freely, and there was quite the abundance of fresh and exquisite meat, both of which Gwyneth heavily indulged in.
When it came time for the dancing, Gwyneth accepted her husband Roro's offer and joined him. Their dance looked more like a flowing duel than dance to be honest, but it was still an impressive performance, certainly more-so than the awkward showing between the bride and groom. Gwyneth's relationship with her current husband was vastly different compared to Bryan; Roro made no requests, and did not try to exert his will or supposed power. He wasn't the most loving husband, but Gwyneth lived with it, as it was mostly for the sake of appearances. If she wanted love, well, Tristifer was always available.
The wedding ceremony itself was truly impressive, as the young Lannister had clearly spared no expense: an absurd amount of jewelry covered the bride and groom, and the cloak bearing the arms of House Lannister was a massive thing, made of felt and covered in gold.
The feast itself continued for another few hours after the ceremony, until the sun started to set and the new couple were bundled off to their bedchambers, their clothing stripped piece by piece along the way. Gwyneth had never quite understood that particular aspect of the Southron's customs, but she could certainly see the allure.
She couldn't quite remember what happened after that; while the years had been kind to her in terms of appearance and physical health, her ability to hold her drink had rapidly deteriorated, so it wasn't that surprising to her when she woke up the next morning with a massive hangover and no idea whose bed she was in. At least Roro was there as well; that would've been positively embarrassing.
And then, three weeks later, completely out of the blue...
Yup. The little Ironborn zealot converted within weeks of being married. I suppose marriage, and some level of love, causes strange things.
_____________________________________
The current peace in the realm continued uneventfully, for which Gwyneth was thankful. She had her hands full managing the menagerie that was the Lords of the Reach. Which is why she had found herself attending the tourney that her new Master-of-Coin was hosting. Normally she would have rejected the offer outright, but this was someone in her inner circle, and Gwyneth supposed that she would have to make some showing that endeared her to the Reachlords.
The tourney itself was entirely forgettable; a collection of third-rate hedge knights competing, with some minor noble occasionally stepping in. Gwyneth found herself struggling to stay awake as the remarkably dull sight of two men in patchwork armour charging at each other repeatedly with long wooden sticks repeated itself day after day.
The only mildly interesting event that had happened was when, on the way back to the Mander, some imbeciles had decided to try and stage a kidnapping attempt. Her husband and the Master-of-Arms were able to quickly drive them off, though they didn't particularly try to protect Gwyneth; she'd made it perfectly clear that she was capable of doing that herself, thank you, and that if they tried to stop her from fighting they'd find themselves missing a few fingers.
When she returned to Pyke, she ordered the construction of yet more additions to Pyke's... facilities. For the past few years, the guard stations and garrisons at Pyke had been steadily renovated and improved, and Gwyneth was finally able to arrange for the construction of a new training grounds so that the levies she periodically called from Pyke could be assembled faster, in greater numbers, and that the levies called would be of a higher quality.
At the same time, Gwyneth's prior temperance and proper diet started to give way to gluttony and shameless decadence. While she did not become fat - her constant training regimen, perhaps the one thing Gwyneth did with any regularity or vigor, kept her in good shape - she did start to put on more weight, and the tight-fitting gowns that she'd preferred to wear previously were no longer an option. (Bizarrely, since gluttony affects stewardship, this affected her stewardship enough to lower her demesne limit. Unfortunately for Urzen, he had not yet managed to impregnate his wife, despite his younger sister having already carried a child to term. Not a living child, unfortunately - which was particularly annoying as he was a genius - but still. Get to it.)
Two years after the marriage between Leo and Gretchel, Lady Lyessa Stark reached the age of maturity, and so the youngest of Gwyneth's progeny found himself married.
The feast itself could not be as decadent as Gwyneth preferred; her treasury had not yet completely recovered from the war and subsequent debt, and she was determined to maintain at least a positive balance. In addition, half a dozen High Lords of the Reach declined to attend citing various reasons that were doubtlessly just platitudes; the fact that Harlen Tyrell had been the first to decline was not lost on Gwyneth.
The ceremony and subsequent feast were still rowdy, however, and when Gwyneth suggested that they conduct the same bizarre bedding ceremony as the Southrons, the Ironborn lords took to it immediately. It did, admittedly, have the beginnings of a strange joke, what with a Northerner and an Ironborn participating in a Southron custom and all, but things went relatively well. At least this time Gwyneth didn't black out halfway through the night and wake up somewhere completely mysterious.
But, alas, all things come to an end, including the good...
_____________________________________
A/N: I'll say one thing: The Tyrell curse strikes again. Hard.
Chapter 16: Gwyneth X
60 AL
"Greetings, Lord Leo." The young Lord Paramount stood a few paces before Gwyneth, his face ashen. "For what purpose have you come to Pyke."
He took a deep breath. "A plague swept through my lands, Lady Gwyneth. Few were spared. My newborn daughter was not among them."
Gwyneth's heart seized. While she hadn't even been aware that Gretchel was with child, family was one of the few things Gwyneth valued greatly. "Go on."
Leo looked down. "Gretchel did not... take well to it. She locked herself in her rooms, distraught." His voice took on a more distant quality. "We never noticed her own deteriorating health. Not until it was too late." He looked up, his eyes as distant as his voice. "Your daughter - my wife - is dead, Lady Gwyneth. I came to return their bodies. Their place is with you."
A long moment of silence passed. Finally, Qarl spoke. "My lady thanks you for your mercy and thoughts, Lord Leo. Come, let us retrieve them."
Lord Leo nodded, and everyone started slowly, and awkwardly, shuffling out of the main hall. After a minute, Gwyneth was the only one left, sitting alone on her dais.
No one heard her wail of rage and pain.
_________________________________
Gwyneth blinked her eyes at the sudden light that invaded the crypt. She'd been sitting there for... hours? days? she'd lost track.
"Who... who is it?" she croaked.
Tristifer stepped into view, carrying a torch. He was dressed, as ever, in his septon's robes.
"Ah." Gwyneth turned back to Gretchel, stroking her daughter's hair.
"She was your daughter, you know." she said absently.
"Who else?" Tristifer's voice was... strange. Colder than she expected.
Gwyneth turned to face her lover, leaving her hand to rest near Gretchel's face.
"Urzen. I... I never told you. Never told anyone. Because... because as much as I hate that bastard of an Arryn, I could not bring myself to rip that supposed knowledge away from him and my son."
Tristifer nodded slowly. "This has to stop, Gwyn."
She blinked, wiping away the tears that had once again sprung up. "What? What has to stop?"
"This. Us, Gwyn. We can't keep doing this."
She stared at him in shock. "W-what?"
Tristifer exploded. "We can't keep doing this! The kisses in the hallways, the romps all over the castle, everything! It was fun, acceptable, back when we were still young, but it never should've happened! We should've taken the gods' hint after our first two children came out dead and then this would never have happened!"
"Two of our children lived, you idiot!" Gwyneth shrieked.
"AND NOW ANOTHER ONE'S DEAD! Gods, Gwyn, do you not see what's happening?"
"What's happening? What's happening?! What I see is a man of religion blaming the gods for a stroke of blind misfortune at a time when you should be helping me! The gods didn't do this! They're a fancy political reality for the powerful and something to keep the peasants satisfied and happy! THEY DON'T EXIST!"
"That kind of belief is exactly what lead to this in the first place! I mourn for Gretchel, I do, along with our first two daughters, but we have to stop now!"
Gwyneth shrieked, a sound of pure, raw emotion. "GET OUT!" She fumbled for Finger Dancer, throwing it at the retreating form of her "septon." The Valyrian Steel dagger missed, however, and clattered against the stones of the crypt, the sound of ringing metal echoing throughout the now empty darkness.
_________________________________
"Mother, are you sure?" They stood on the docks of Pyke, retainers and armsmen loading the longship that would take Urzen to his new lordship. "I don't think you should be alone right now."
"Yes. You have a son, after all; you did what I asked." Gwyneth's voice was still hollow, even days later.
Urzen put a hand on Gwyneth's shoulder. "Mother, that was a joke, remember? You were extremely drunk at the time."
Gwyneth let out a small, brief chuckle. "I remember. But it wasn't a joke." She took Urzen's hand off her shoulder and clasped it with both hands. "Besides, you shouldn't see me like this. It's... unseemly. And Pyke... whatever joy and happiness once existed in those halls is gone, now." She kissed Urzen on the cheek. "Go. I'll be fine."
Urzen looked unsure, but acquiesced to Gwyneth's request and boarded the ship.
A fortnight later, she was dead.
So ends the life and tale of Lady Paramount Gwyneth Greyjoy, first of her name and title. Her life was long and fruitful, yet also filled with pain and sorrow. She ushered in an new era for the Ironborn, but never lived to see it.
Farewell, she who would have been Queen.
_________________________________
A/N:
60 AL
"Greetings, Lord Leo." The young Lord Paramount stood a few paces before Gwyneth, his face ashen. "For what purpose have you come to Pyke."
He took a deep breath. "A plague swept through my lands, Lady Gwyneth. Few were spared. My newborn daughter was not among them."
Gwyneth's heart seized. While she hadn't even been aware that Gretchel was with child, family was one of the few things Gwyneth valued greatly. "Go on."
Leo looked down. "Gretchel did not... take well to it. She locked herself in her rooms, distraught." His voice took on a more distant quality. "We never noticed her own deteriorating health. Not until it was too late." He looked up, his eyes as distant as his voice. "Your daughter - my wife - is dead, Lady Gwyneth. I came to return their bodies. Their place is with you."
A long moment of silence passed. Finally, Qarl spoke. "My lady thanks you for your mercy and thoughts, Lord Leo. Come, let us retrieve them."
Lord Leo nodded, and everyone started slowly, and awkwardly, shuffling out of the main hall. After a minute, Gwyneth was the only one left, sitting alone on her dais.
No one heard her wail of rage and pain.
_________________________________
Gwyneth blinked her eyes at the sudden light that invaded the crypt. She'd been sitting there for... hours? days? she'd lost track.
"Who... who is it?" she croaked.
Tristifer stepped into view, carrying a torch. He was dressed, as ever, in his septon's robes.
"Ah." Gwyneth turned back to Gretchel, stroking her daughter's hair.
"She was your daughter, you know." she said absently.
"Who else?" Tristifer's voice was... strange. Colder than she expected.
Gwyneth turned to face her lover, leaving her hand to rest near Gretchel's face.
"Urzen. I... I never told you. Never told anyone. Because... because as much as I hate that bastard of an Arryn, I could not bring myself to rip that supposed knowledge away from him and my son."
Tristifer nodded slowly. "This has to stop, Gwyn."
She blinked, wiping away the tears that had once again sprung up. "What? What has to stop?"
"This. Us, Gwyn. We can't keep doing this."
She stared at him in shock. "W-what?"
Tristifer exploded. "We can't keep doing this! The kisses in the hallways, the romps all over the castle, everything! It was fun, acceptable, back when we were still young, but it never should've happened! We should've taken the gods' hint after our first two children came out dead and then this would never have happened!"
"Two of our children lived, you idiot!" Gwyneth shrieked.
"AND NOW ANOTHER ONE'S DEAD! Gods, Gwyn, do you not see what's happening?"
"What's happening? What's happening?! What I see is a man of religion blaming the gods for a stroke of blind misfortune at a time when you should be helping me! The gods didn't do this! They're a fancy political reality for the powerful and something to keep the peasants satisfied and happy! THEY DON'T EXIST!"
"That kind of belief is exactly what lead to this in the first place! I mourn for Gretchel, I do, along with our first two daughters, but we have to stop now!"
Gwyneth shrieked, a sound of pure, raw emotion. "GET OUT!" She fumbled for Finger Dancer, throwing it at the retreating form of her "septon." The Valyrian Steel dagger missed, however, and clattered against the stones of the crypt, the sound of ringing metal echoing throughout the now empty darkness.
_________________________________
"Mother, are you sure?" They stood on the docks of Pyke, retainers and armsmen loading the longship that would take Urzen to his new lordship. "I don't think you should be alone right now."
"Yes. You have a son, after all; you did what I asked." Gwyneth's voice was still hollow, even days later.
Urzen put a hand on Gwyneth's shoulder. "Mother, that was a joke, remember? You were extremely drunk at the time."
Gwyneth let out a small, brief chuckle. "I remember. But it wasn't a joke." She took Urzen's hand off her shoulder and clasped it with both hands. "Besides, you shouldn't see me like this. It's... unseemly. And Pyke... whatever joy and happiness once existed in those halls is gone, now." She kissed Urzen on the cheek. "Go. I'll be fine."
Urzen looked unsure, but acquiesced to Gwyneth's request and boarded the ship.
A fortnight later, she was dead.
So ends the life and tale of Lady Paramount Gwyneth Greyjoy, first of her name and title. Her life was long and fruitful, yet also filled with pain and sorrow. She ushered in an new era for the Ironborn, but never lived to see it.
Farewell, she who would have been Queen.
_________________________________
A/N:
So... yeah. If you're wondering about the weird turn of events with giving Urzen a title and then committing suicide days later, I made a decision shortly before writing this part to have Gwyneth commit suicide. It seemed... appropriate to end on the lowest point of her life. Nearly sixty-one years have passed ingame, and now the dance begins in earnest now that I can FINALLY actually perform diplomacy with 90% of the Seven Kingdoms. Also, she who would have been Queen refers to her ambition. She was never slated to actually be Queen. Though, I guess she could've if she'd murdered the right Targaryens...
Now I'm depressed Fare thee well, Gwyneth Greyjoy, who lived up all too well to the family name.
Fare thee well, Gwyneth Greyjoy, who lived up all too well to the family name.
Poor Gwyneth, first she loses a daughter then her lover breaks up with her. still at least with Urzen you can expand the Inborn dominion since he follows the faith.
still at least with Urzen you can expand the Inborn dominion since he follows the faith.
Chapter 17: Urzen I
60 - 63 AL
(On a totally unrelated note, if Urzen wasn't bald, he'd be blonde. What is it with the new generation of blonde Greyjoys? Seriously...)
Urzen replaced his mother's shroud and laid his hands over hers. I'll be fine, she had said when he last saw her. He wondered if that was the only lie she told him.
Doesn't matter now, does it?
"So, you're back." Wex remarked, and Urzen turned to face him. His younger brother looked like he had swallowed sour and bitter, and was looking at Urzen with barely concealed hatred. He'd never been circumspect about his hatred for Urzen, a sentiment not shared by Urzen. It was probably because Urzen was always slated to be one of the most powerful lords of the realm - his exact position shifted between most, second most, and third most depending on how much favour the Lannisters, Tullys, and Greyjoys currently curried with their vassals - and Wex was married to a scion of a fallen family with no real prospects. Urzen did have plans to change that, but Wex took after their grandfather in terms of his more unpalatable personality traits, and Urzen had no intention of letting his younger brother screw up his plans.
After all, like any real Greyjoy, Urzen had started plotting from the moment he was born.
"Yes, I am," he replied. "Where's our illustrious aunt?"
"Drinking herself into a stupor." Wex raised an eyebrow. "You know she abhors you, right?"
Urzen nodded. "A shame; I quite like her." He snorted. "You know what Mother told me during one of her later drunken bouts?"
Wex shrugged, and Urzen elaborated. "She said that, early on, she was actually considering wedding me to aunt Margot."
Wex laughed. "Well, she would've been better than your current one."
Urzen frowned. While Rhaenys seemed enamored with him, he felt... ambivalent about her; she flew into rages frequently and lied frequently - which was, admittedly, cute, considering her stutter and lack of actual ability. Still, she was his wife, and the mother of his child (funny story, actually; I had a brainfart and for one moment thought Rhaenys' kid wasn't hers. Then I remembered how childbirth actually works)
"Wex..." Urzen warned.
"Fine, fine, brother." He stayed at a distance, watching Urzen stand over their mother. "So, what now?"
Urzen stood up and brushed himself free of dust. "Now, I bind the lords of the realm to me. This calls for a tourney, don't you think?"
__________________________________
It took a month - to the day - to organize the tournament, send out invitations, and wait for the arrival of all the notable individuals.
The early days of the tourney saw the elimination of most of the lesser competitors, including one minor lordling that had shown up drunk and practically naked; he was promptly removed from the field and Pyke in general.
Urzen himself did not participate in the tilts, though he did take advantage of the opportunities they presented, most notably when Prince Maekar Targaryen rather unfortunately ran the Lord of Ashford through with his lance. Urzen was the proper mix of apologetic and sympathetic, offering the Prince and his family a position in his court until the scandal blew over (that Urzen had orchestrated the "accident" in the first place goes without saying).
Moreover, one of Urzen's, and Gwyneth's before him, most strident opponents, Lord Owain Florent of the Brightwater, proved to be a remarkable conversationalist. A bit unrefined around the edges, true, but competent - and ingenious - enough to be truly fascinating.
As to the actual jousters, Urzen paid little attention. Most of the final competitors ended up being minor lordlings, with the sole exception being the Lord of Gulltown, which really only caught Urzen's attention on account of being from the Vale.
Shortly after Urzen's own tourney concluded, he found himself invited to participate in Samwell Tarly's tourney, which he graciously accepted.
Urzen easily fought his way through the early tilts, only really starting to pay attention when he started somewhat recognizing the family names of his opponents. In short order, he defeated Ser Meribald Leygood, Lord Steffon Kidwell, and Ser Arnell Redding.
His final opponent, however, was a giant of a man by the name of Ser Amelryc Hastwyck, renowned to be one of the best of the best. Much to his dismay, Urzen was eliminated in the first charge, and was further annoyed when his post-tourney forays into seeing Ser Amelryc dead proved fruitless. It was an especially bitter fruit, as with Urzen's defeat Ser Amelryc was crowned the victor of the tourney.
While Urzen was busy jousting, Lord Theon Drumm of Old Wyk tried his hand at intrigue and bribery. His transparent attempt failed, and he himself was thrown into Pyke's dungeons.
The scenario repeated itself a month later when Lord Amelryc Chester of Greenfield tried to drudge up some obviously fake claim to the Reach. What he thought he could even do with it is a mystery, but he was thrown into the dungeons all the same. When it was discovered that he had nearly escaped due to a smuggled in rope, the servant in question was tortured and executed and Lord Amelryc himself was thrown into the deepest, darkest cell Urzen had at his disposal (and there were quite a few, dating back from the days of his mother and grandfather).
In the middle of the sixty-second year after Aegon's Landing, another tie between the Targaryens and Greyjoys was forged when Urzen's first cousin, Quellon (son of Margot Greyjoy) was betrothed to Princess Elaena Targaryen, the daughter of Prince Maekar.
The rest of the year passed peacefully, with Urzen commissioning a number of construction projects in Pyke, Blacktyde, and Stonetree aimed at increasing the already prodigious tax revenue he collected (while the Lannisters and Tullys frequently displaced him as most powerful lord in the Realm, Urzen was indisputably the richest, after the king of course).
At the dawn of the sixty-third year, however, Lady Paramount Alleria Arryn of the Vale found herself imprisoned by King Maelon. Evidently, the simmering hatred between the two had boiled over for one reason or another, and the rivalry was escalated. Slightly to Urzen's disappointment, however, Alleria was released unconditionally five months later and he could not discover why.
Urzen's personal peace, however, was only interrupted in the latter half of the year when Lord Amelryc Chester demanded a Trial by Combat and named his brother Holgor as his champion. Urzen accepted, and elected to face Ser Holgor Chester in person.
The fight itself was a disappointment, however, as Ser Holgor was so clearly outmatched. When Urzen went on the offensive with his Valyrian Steel axe and dagger, Holgor could barely react and was slain unceremoniously within seconds. Lord Amelryc himself was sent off to the Wall in a creaking longship shortly after, still bound in chains.
What finally roused the kraken was the death of Lord Leo Lannister. His new marriage had produced no children, and for one reason or another, the Lord Paramountcy of the Westerlands passed not to a Lannister, but to a Tully. Urzen found this a most unacceptable state of affairs, as Lord Edmyn Tully had over fifty thousand men at his direct beck and call and another thirty thousand closely tied to him through marriage to the Arryns. The addition of another fifty thousand to the Tully coalition could not be tolerated, and so Urzen moved quickly.
He invited an aging member of the Lannisters - Lord Reginald, to be precise - and sent a raven to Lord Paramount Creighton Tully of the Westerlands informing the young lord of Urzen's intention to supplant him the moment Reginald Lannister accepted his invitation. Then, he prayed to every god that would listen that Lord Edmyn disliked his cousin more than Urzen and his desire to expand his influence.
___________________________________
A/N: The story is in its final arc. Pieces are moving, alliances are being formed, and Greyjoys are plotting, most notably Urzen the Bald Blonde (I'm still utterly confused where the blondeness comes from. It can't just be Tristifer, as Beony's also blonde. Maybe Bryan Arryn's also a Bald Blonde? Eh, doesn't matter; just a pet peeve of mine that the glorious black locks of the Greyjoys are going out of style). There will be two more parts and an epilogue after this.
60 - 63 AL
(On a totally unrelated note, if Urzen wasn't bald, he'd be blonde. What is it with the new generation of blonde Greyjoys? Seriously...)
Urzen replaced his mother's shroud and laid his hands over hers. I'll be fine, she had said when he last saw her. He wondered if that was the only lie she told him.
Doesn't matter now, does it?
"So, you're back." Wex remarked, and Urzen turned to face him. His younger brother looked like he had swallowed sour and bitter, and was looking at Urzen with barely concealed hatred. He'd never been circumspect about his hatred for Urzen, a sentiment not shared by Urzen. It was probably because Urzen was always slated to be one of the most powerful lords of the realm - his exact position shifted between most, second most, and third most depending on how much favour the Lannisters, Tullys, and Greyjoys currently curried with their vassals - and Wex was married to a scion of a fallen family with no real prospects. Urzen did have plans to change that, but Wex took after their grandfather in terms of his more unpalatable personality traits, and Urzen had no intention of letting his younger brother screw up his plans.
After all, like any real Greyjoy, Urzen had started plotting from the moment he was born.
"Yes, I am," he replied. "Where's our illustrious aunt?"
"Drinking herself into a stupor." Wex raised an eyebrow. "You know she abhors you, right?"
Urzen nodded. "A shame; I quite like her." He snorted. "You know what Mother told me during one of her later drunken bouts?"
Wex shrugged, and Urzen elaborated. "She said that, early on, she was actually considering wedding me to aunt Margot."
Wex laughed. "Well, she would've been better than your current one."
Urzen frowned. While Rhaenys seemed enamored with him, he felt... ambivalent about her; she flew into rages frequently and lied frequently - which was, admittedly, cute, considering her stutter and lack of actual ability. Still, she was his wife, and the mother of his child (funny story, actually; I had a brainfart and for one moment thought Rhaenys' kid wasn't hers. Then I remembered how childbirth actually works)
"Wex..." Urzen warned.
"Fine, fine, brother." He stayed at a distance, watching Urzen stand over their mother. "So, what now?"
Urzen stood up and brushed himself free of dust. "Now, I bind the lords of the realm to me. This calls for a tourney, don't you think?"
__________________________________
It took a month - to the day - to organize the tournament, send out invitations, and wait for the arrival of all the notable individuals.
The early days of the tourney saw the elimination of most of the lesser competitors, including one minor lordling that had shown up drunk and practically naked; he was promptly removed from the field and Pyke in general.
Urzen himself did not participate in the tilts, though he did take advantage of the opportunities they presented, most notably when Prince Maekar Targaryen rather unfortunately ran the Lord of Ashford through with his lance. Urzen was the proper mix of apologetic and sympathetic, offering the Prince and his family a position in his court until the scandal blew over (that Urzen had orchestrated the "accident" in the first place goes without saying).
Moreover, one of Urzen's, and Gwyneth's before him, most strident opponents, Lord Owain Florent of the Brightwater, proved to be a remarkable conversationalist. A bit unrefined around the edges, true, but competent - and ingenious - enough to be truly fascinating.
As to the actual jousters, Urzen paid little attention. Most of the final competitors ended up being minor lordlings, with the sole exception being the Lord of Gulltown, which really only caught Urzen's attention on account of being from the Vale.
Shortly after Urzen's own tourney concluded, he found himself invited to participate in Samwell Tarly's tourney, which he graciously accepted.
Urzen easily fought his way through the early tilts, only really starting to pay attention when he started somewhat recognizing the family names of his opponents. In short order, he defeated Ser Meribald Leygood, Lord Steffon Kidwell, and Ser Arnell Redding.
His final opponent, however, was a giant of a man by the name of Ser Amelryc Hastwyck, renowned to be one of the best of the best. Much to his dismay, Urzen was eliminated in the first charge, and was further annoyed when his post-tourney forays into seeing Ser Amelryc dead proved fruitless. It was an especially bitter fruit, as with Urzen's defeat Ser Amelryc was crowned the victor of the tourney.
While Urzen was busy jousting, Lord Theon Drumm of Old Wyk tried his hand at intrigue and bribery. His transparent attempt failed, and he himself was thrown into Pyke's dungeons.
The scenario repeated itself a month later when Lord Amelryc Chester of Greenfield tried to drudge up some obviously fake claim to the Reach. What he thought he could even do with it is a mystery, but he was thrown into the dungeons all the same. When it was discovered that he had nearly escaped due to a smuggled in rope, the servant in question was tortured and executed and Lord Amelryc himself was thrown into the deepest, darkest cell Urzen had at his disposal (and there were quite a few, dating back from the days of his mother and grandfather).
In the middle of the sixty-second year after Aegon's Landing, another tie between the Targaryens and Greyjoys was forged when Urzen's first cousin, Quellon (son of Margot Greyjoy) was betrothed to Princess Elaena Targaryen, the daughter of Prince Maekar.
The rest of the year passed peacefully, with Urzen commissioning a number of construction projects in Pyke, Blacktyde, and Stonetree aimed at increasing the already prodigious tax revenue he collected (while the Lannisters and Tullys frequently displaced him as most powerful lord in the Realm, Urzen was indisputably the richest, after the king of course).
At the dawn of the sixty-third year, however, Lady Paramount Alleria Arryn of the Vale found herself imprisoned by King Maelon. Evidently, the simmering hatred between the two had boiled over for one reason or another, and the rivalry was escalated. Slightly to Urzen's disappointment, however, Alleria was released unconditionally five months later and he could not discover why.
Urzen's personal peace, however, was only interrupted in the latter half of the year when Lord Amelryc Chester demanded a Trial by Combat and named his brother Holgor as his champion. Urzen accepted, and elected to face Ser Holgor Chester in person.
The fight itself was a disappointment, however, as Ser Holgor was so clearly outmatched. When Urzen went on the offensive with his Valyrian Steel axe and dagger, Holgor could barely react and was slain unceremoniously within seconds. Lord Amelryc himself was sent off to the Wall in a creaking longship shortly after, still bound in chains.
What finally roused the kraken was the death of Lord Leo Lannister. His new marriage had produced no children, and for one reason or another, the Lord Paramountcy of the Westerlands passed not to a Lannister, but to a Tully. Urzen found this a most unacceptable state of affairs, as Lord Edmyn Tully had over fifty thousand men at his direct beck and call and another thirty thousand closely tied to him through marriage to the Arryns. The addition of another fifty thousand to the Tully coalition could not be tolerated, and so Urzen moved quickly.
He invited an aging member of the Lannisters - Lord Reginald, to be precise - and sent a raven to Lord Paramount Creighton Tully of the Westerlands informing the young lord of Urzen's intention to supplant him the moment Reginald Lannister accepted his invitation. Then, he prayed to every god that would listen that Lord Edmyn disliked his cousin more than Urzen and his desire to expand his influence.
___________________________________
A/N: The story is in its final arc. Pieces are moving, alliances are being formed, and Greyjoys are plotting, most notably Urzen the Bald Blonde (I'm still utterly confused where the blondeness comes from. It can't just be Tristifer, as Beony's also blonde. Maybe Bryan Arryn's also a Bald Blonde? Eh, doesn't matter; just a pet peeve of mine that the glorious black locks of the Greyjoys are going out of style). There will be two more parts and an epilogue after this.
Chapter 18: Urzen II
63 - 66 AL
"Interesting letter from your brother, Maekar."
The white-haired "Prince" looked up from the map of Volmark that had been unfurled over the table. "Oh? How's that?" The Targaryen was clad in his heavy plate - an oddity considering they were still at sea, and at least a day away from reaching the "invading" Lannister force. Whether it was force of habit or bizarre eccentricity, Urzen didn't particularly care. Maekar was one of the best commanders he had, and with Wex leading the rest of his top commanders in the Westerlands proper Urzen was quite glad he'd managed to snatch the Prince away from his brother.
"It seems that the King is quite interested in my skills. He's offered me a position as Master-of-Laws." The language of the actual letter was a tad more flowery than that, of course, but there was no point in mentioning that.
"A great honor, my Lord Urzen." The slightly raspy voice belonged to his newest - acquisition? partner? ally? whatever - Ser Reginald Lannister, the last commander that Urzen had requested. While he didn't particularly like risking his pawn in this way, it sent an important message to the Lords of the Realm that Ser Reginald would "fight for what is his." Politics.
"Certainly, Ser Reginald. But please, there is no need to call me that; I am not your lord."
Reginald fractionally inclined his head. "I am your man, Lord Urzen, until we take back Casterly Rock from the Tully's, and then even after."
Urzen nodded. "The Tully's" was a bit of an exaggeration - Lord Edmyn had not responded to his relative's call for help, and so most of the men they were going to kill on the morrow were formerly Lannister bannermen, and a small fraction of that too.
"Be that as it may, how are we to deal with the host besieging Volmark?" Maekar tapped the map again for emphasis.
Urzen shrugged. "We don't need any fancy tactics or maneuvers; we have sixteen thousand trained men-at-arms, which is six thousand more than the Tully's have of men in general, and then another eight thousand assorted lighter troops." He moved over to the map. "The plan will be simple: I pin down half of the enemy host with a third of our own while the two of you smash the other half. Then, we will turn on the other half, and wipe out whoever is left." He sat down in a chair and leaned back. "I am more concerned with the fleet we saw mustering on our way back north. Another host, coming to land on the Isles?"
Reginald nodded. "Most likely. They would have done better to hold the Westerlands proper, however; Lannisport cannot call upon a navy nearly as large or fearsome as the Iron Fleet (which would be a lot more fearsome if there was NAVAL COMBAT!), and so have to make do with ferrying their forces over a piece at a time." He shook his head. "It is madness, I tell you."
"Perhaps whoever is commanding the Tully host does not agree with his new lord and is seeking to sabotage them." Maekar ventured.
Reginald shook his head. "Then why not surrender? If such a 'loyalist' did exist, why would he send men to their deaths pointlessly?"
"Politics." Urzen answered.
________________________________________
The siege of Volmark was ended without issue. The Ironborn host crashed into the Tully host and broke it, slaughtering over seven thousand men for the loss of only a thousand. The surviving quarter of the army fled to Hangmyre, but they were bereft of their fleet and were swiftly surrounded and annihilated. On the mainland, Wex Greyjoy led his host against the thirteen thousand men that had been left in the Westerlands and destroyed them as well, killing almost ten thousand for the loss of just over three thousand. When the eight-thousand-six-hundred strong second "invasion" host finally landed in the Iron Isles, they were the last Tully host in the field. They were cornered in Nettebank and destroyed, the survivors living only a scant few days before they were hunted down right outside Downdelving and put to the sword.
The final nail in the Tully boy's coffin was the storming of Lannisport's Southgate. While the city proper was too heavily fortified, the loss of Southgate signaled the end of the war, as the Tully forces had been completely annihilated and the Ironborn were now turning to the castles and countryside. Lord Creighton Tully soon surrendered his position to Lord Reginald, and all was right with the world.
(Or it would've been, if Reginald hadn't married his heir to a Tully girl a few months later and reinstated the alliance I had JUST broken. REGINALD!)
With the war wrapped up, Urzen arranged for his affairs at home to be handled by his Castellan and Master-of-Laws, ordering the construction of multiple additions to his array of holdings designed to increase his income.
Shortly into his tenure as Master-of-Laws of the Iron Throne, Urzen received news from his wife as to her recent pregnancy, along with the near-simultaneous pregnancy of his sister Beony. Were he a slightly more suspicious man he would be, well, suspicious, but he highly doubted that Lucimore Stonetree had it in him to begin with.
In slightly more relevant news, the Queen on the Iron Throne, Elaena Targaryen, long time Master-of-Coin and mother of the royal children (two of which were dead as a product of kinslaying and the rest were currently residing in the court of Urzen Greyjoy) had finally passed away at the respectable and venerable age of sixty-three. The maesters ruled it a natural death.
At the close of the sixty-fourth year after Aegon's Landing, the Greyjoy children were born. Urzen and Rhaenys' own daughter was, tragically, stillborn. His niece was born in better health, however, and with the properly dark Greyjoy hair (bad blondes!). Beony and Lucimore named her Roelle.
Most of the sixty-fifth year passed peacefully and relatively uneventfully. Urzen's stepfather, Roro, decided to leave the Iron Islands for Asshai (and take nearly seven hundred gold with him, the insensitive jerk). Edmyn Tully put down a small rebellion, Urzen's old maester died and was replaced with a properly competent one this time, albeit it with an unfortunate clubfoot that made it painful for him to get around, the High Septon passed away - not that Urzen particularly cared; in his case, his choice of religion was politically motivated rather than a result of belief or faith - and oh yes, the King on the Iron Throne passed away a little over a year after his wife's death.
Interestingly enough, rather than any Targaryens claiming the now riderless Balerion or Morghon (not that there were any Targaryens old enough to do so anywhere near King's Landing), two old lowborn High Valyrian women became their riders. The elder was a woman named Aelinor who was likely the bastard descendent of King Aegon - not that anyone could reliably establish the parentage of either woman, except for the mother of the latter - while the younger, by a margin of seven years, was, appropriately, a Silent Sister. Not a model example of one, but, well, beggars can't be choosers.
Vaera was of the proper Old Valyrian faith, and had fallen out of favour with the Good King Maelon. Bizarrely, she still spent most of her time at White Sword Tower, but that was irrelevant to Urzen. The interesting part, you see, was that Aelinor positively despised the young King Lucerys, and as such it was child's play for Urzen to entice her - and her new, enormous, fiery lizard of war, death, and destruction over to Pyke. For the first time in centuries, the Targaryens were left without dragons.
Urzen attended Lucerys' coronation, of course; there was no reason to rock the boat as of yet. While the Greyjoy's further bred out the Targaryens - Urzen's first cousin Quellon and his wife "Princess" Elaena had brought a new Greyjoy into the world, a girl named Arwyn - and Urzen left King's Landing while politely declining a repeat appointment as the Lucerys' Master-of-Laws, he sent a letter to the Iron Bank of Braavos inquiring as to the possibility of taking out a rather impressive loan. With this new influx of funds, along with his own sizeable treasury, Urzen reached out with extravagant gifts to the other proponents of the alliance that Edmyn headed (him and Lady Alleria Arryn, to be precise; Lord Reginald needed no further "encouragement").
_________________________________
Urzen and his wife danced slowly amid the bustling feast-guests. He had spared no expense preparing this occasion and, fortunately for him, the only important lord that declined to attend was his very distant cousin Harlen Tyrell of Highgarden. An annoyance, especially since Qarl had not managed to find any way for him or his mother to legally seize part of their ancestral homelands. Honestly, the man could manage a document "proving" their right to Tyrosh but he couldn't manage something as simple as justifying recent and existing ancestral lines? How?
Rhaenys interrupted his reverie by leaning in and whispering in his ear. "N-not that I d-don't a-a-appreciate this, h-husband, but w-why are you h-hosting this? I-It's not q-q-quite the g-grand oc-occasion that I ex-expected when I heard th-that you had b-b-borrowed from the I-Iron Bank."
Urzen frowned slightly. It was little things like this that made it hard for him to truly love his wife, as she was quite slow on the uptake. "You've met the lady I brought with me from King's Landing, I presume?"
He felt more than saw Rhaenys nod her head. "A-A-Aelinor. D-D-Dreadful woman, st-stares at me s-so."
He pursed his lips. "Yes. Well. She has something very important to the realm at large."
"B-B-Balerion, I kn-know. W-Why did y-you b-bring her though?"
Urzen laughed lightly. "Oh, that one's rather simple really. She's a dragonrider that is remarkably loyal to me, and it's nice to have contingencies in case things do not go as planned."
"W-what things?"
Urzen chuckled. "Merely making the most beautiful woman in the world Queen on the Iron Throne." he lied masterfully. Well, he was going to make her queen, but there were definitely more attractive women around, and it's not like he wouldn't rule the Seven Kingdoms through her and Aelinor.
To her credit, however, Rhaenys understood that one very quickly. "Oh. Oh." She snorted, then started giggling, before finally descending into full blown hysterical laughter. To those that knew Rhaenys, they recognized it as the start of one of her fits. Urzen didn't particularly care, however; finally, the Iron Islands would get revenge for Harrenhall (Urzen didn't care about that either, it was just a way to easily sell the war to his more traditional vassals. The real reason was, wholly and entirely, the acquisition of more power).
_____________________________________
A/N: And so it begins.
63 - 66 AL
"Interesting letter from your brother, Maekar."
The white-haired "Prince" looked up from the map of Volmark that had been unfurled over the table. "Oh? How's that?" The Targaryen was clad in his heavy plate - an oddity considering they were still at sea, and at least a day away from reaching the "invading" Lannister force. Whether it was force of habit or bizarre eccentricity, Urzen didn't particularly care. Maekar was one of the best commanders he had, and with Wex leading the rest of his top commanders in the Westerlands proper Urzen was quite glad he'd managed to snatch the Prince away from his brother.
"It seems that the King is quite interested in my skills. He's offered me a position as Master-of-Laws." The language of the actual letter was a tad more flowery than that, of course, but there was no point in mentioning that.
"A great honor, my Lord Urzen." The slightly raspy voice belonged to his newest - acquisition? partner? ally? whatever - Ser Reginald Lannister, the last commander that Urzen had requested. While he didn't particularly like risking his pawn in this way, it sent an important message to the Lords of the Realm that Ser Reginald would "fight for what is his." Politics.
"Certainly, Ser Reginald. But please, there is no need to call me that; I am not your lord."
Reginald fractionally inclined his head. "I am your man, Lord Urzen, until we take back Casterly Rock from the Tully's, and then even after."
Urzen nodded. "The Tully's" was a bit of an exaggeration - Lord Edmyn had not responded to his relative's call for help, and so most of the men they were going to kill on the morrow were formerly Lannister bannermen, and a small fraction of that too.
"Be that as it may, how are we to deal with the host besieging Volmark?" Maekar tapped the map again for emphasis.
Urzen shrugged. "We don't need any fancy tactics or maneuvers; we have sixteen thousand trained men-at-arms, which is six thousand more than the Tully's have of men in general, and then another eight thousand assorted lighter troops." He moved over to the map. "The plan will be simple: I pin down half of the enemy host with a third of our own while the two of you smash the other half. Then, we will turn on the other half, and wipe out whoever is left." He sat down in a chair and leaned back. "I am more concerned with the fleet we saw mustering on our way back north. Another host, coming to land on the Isles?"
Reginald nodded. "Most likely. They would have done better to hold the Westerlands proper, however; Lannisport cannot call upon a navy nearly as large or fearsome as the Iron Fleet (which would be a lot more fearsome if there was NAVAL COMBAT!), and so have to make do with ferrying their forces over a piece at a time." He shook his head. "It is madness, I tell you."
"Perhaps whoever is commanding the Tully host does not agree with his new lord and is seeking to sabotage them." Maekar ventured.
Reginald shook his head. "Then why not surrender? If such a 'loyalist' did exist, why would he send men to their deaths pointlessly?"
"Politics." Urzen answered.
________________________________________
The siege of Volmark was ended without issue. The Ironborn host crashed into the Tully host and broke it, slaughtering over seven thousand men for the loss of only a thousand. The surviving quarter of the army fled to Hangmyre, but they were bereft of their fleet and were swiftly surrounded and annihilated. On the mainland, Wex Greyjoy led his host against the thirteen thousand men that had been left in the Westerlands and destroyed them as well, killing almost ten thousand for the loss of just over three thousand. When the eight-thousand-six-hundred strong second "invasion" host finally landed in the Iron Isles, they were the last Tully host in the field. They were cornered in Nettebank and destroyed, the survivors living only a scant few days before they were hunted down right outside Downdelving and put to the sword.
The final nail in the Tully boy's coffin was the storming of Lannisport's Southgate. While the city proper was too heavily fortified, the loss of Southgate signaled the end of the war, as the Tully forces had been completely annihilated and the Ironborn were now turning to the castles and countryside. Lord Creighton Tully soon surrendered his position to Lord Reginald, and all was right with the world.
(Or it would've been, if Reginald hadn't married his heir to a Tully girl a few months later and reinstated the alliance I had JUST broken. REGINALD!)
With the war wrapped up, Urzen arranged for his affairs at home to be handled by his Castellan and Master-of-Laws, ordering the construction of multiple additions to his array of holdings designed to increase his income.
Shortly into his tenure as Master-of-Laws of the Iron Throne, Urzen received news from his wife as to her recent pregnancy, along with the near-simultaneous pregnancy of his sister Beony. Were he a slightly more suspicious man he would be, well, suspicious, but he highly doubted that Lucimore Stonetree had it in him to begin with.
In slightly more relevant news, the Queen on the Iron Throne, Elaena Targaryen, long time Master-of-Coin and mother of the royal children (two of which were dead as a product of kinslaying and the rest were currently residing in the court of Urzen Greyjoy) had finally passed away at the respectable and venerable age of sixty-three. The maesters ruled it a natural death.
At the close of the sixty-fourth year after Aegon's Landing, the Greyjoy children were born. Urzen and Rhaenys' own daughter was, tragically, stillborn. His niece was born in better health, however, and with the properly dark Greyjoy hair (bad blondes!). Beony and Lucimore named her Roelle.
Most of the sixty-fifth year passed peacefully and relatively uneventfully. Urzen's stepfather, Roro, decided to leave the Iron Islands for Asshai (and take nearly seven hundred gold with him, the insensitive jerk). Edmyn Tully put down a small rebellion, Urzen's old maester died and was replaced with a properly competent one this time, albeit it with an unfortunate clubfoot that made it painful for him to get around, the High Septon passed away - not that Urzen particularly cared; in his case, his choice of religion was politically motivated rather than a result of belief or faith - and oh yes, the King on the Iron Throne passed away a little over a year after his wife's death.
Interestingly enough, rather than any Targaryens claiming the now riderless Balerion or Morghon (not that there were any Targaryens old enough to do so anywhere near King's Landing), two old lowborn High Valyrian women became their riders. The elder was a woman named Aelinor who was likely the bastard descendent of King Aegon - not that anyone could reliably establish the parentage of either woman, except for the mother of the latter - while the younger, by a margin of seven years, was, appropriately, a Silent Sister. Not a model example of one, but, well, beggars can't be choosers.
Vaera was of the proper Old Valyrian faith, and had fallen out of favour with the Good King Maelon. Bizarrely, she still spent most of her time at White Sword Tower, but that was irrelevant to Urzen. The interesting part, you see, was that Aelinor positively despised the young King Lucerys, and as such it was child's play for Urzen to entice her - and her new, enormous, fiery lizard of war, death, and destruction over to Pyke. For the first time in centuries, the Targaryens were left without dragons.
Urzen attended Lucerys' coronation, of course; there was no reason to rock the boat as of yet. While the Greyjoy's further bred out the Targaryens - Urzen's first cousin Quellon and his wife "Princess" Elaena had brought a new Greyjoy into the world, a girl named Arwyn - and Urzen left King's Landing while politely declining a repeat appointment as the Lucerys' Master-of-Laws, he sent a letter to the Iron Bank of Braavos inquiring as to the possibility of taking out a rather impressive loan. With this new influx of funds, along with his own sizeable treasury, Urzen reached out with extravagant gifts to the other proponents of the alliance that Edmyn headed (him and Lady Alleria Arryn, to be precise; Lord Reginald needed no further "encouragement").
_________________________________
Urzen and his wife danced slowly amid the bustling feast-guests. He had spared no expense preparing this occasion and, fortunately for him, the only important lord that declined to attend was his very distant cousin Harlen Tyrell of Highgarden. An annoyance, especially since Qarl had not managed to find any way for him or his mother to legally seize part of their ancestral homelands. Honestly, the man could manage a document "proving" their right to Tyrosh but he couldn't manage something as simple as justifying recent and existing ancestral lines? How?
Rhaenys interrupted his reverie by leaning in and whispering in his ear. "N-not that I d-don't a-a-appreciate this, h-husband, but w-why are you h-hosting this? I-It's not q-q-quite the g-grand oc-occasion that I ex-expected when I heard th-that you had b-b-borrowed from the I-Iron Bank."
Urzen frowned slightly. It was little things like this that made it hard for him to truly love his wife, as she was quite slow on the uptake. "You've met the lady I brought with me from King's Landing, I presume?"
He felt more than saw Rhaenys nod her head. "A-A-Aelinor. D-D-Dreadful woman, st-stares at me s-so."
He pursed his lips. "Yes. Well. She has something very important to the realm at large."
"B-B-Balerion, I kn-know. W-Why did y-you b-bring her though?"
Urzen laughed lightly. "Oh, that one's rather simple really. She's a dragonrider that is remarkably loyal to me, and it's nice to have contingencies in case things do not go as planned."
"W-what things?"
Urzen chuckled. "Merely making the most beautiful woman in the world Queen on the Iron Throne." he lied masterfully. Well, he was going to make her queen, but there were definitely more attractive women around, and it's not like he wouldn't rule the Seven Kingdoms through her and Aelinor.
To her credit, however, Rhaenys understood that one very quickly. "Oh. Oh." She snorted, then started giggling, before finally descending into full blown hysterical laughter. To those that knew Rhaenys, they recognized it as the start of one of her fits. Urzen didn't particularly care, however; finally, the Iron Islands would get revenge for Harrenhall (Urzen didn't care about that either, it was just a way to easily sell the war to his more traditional vassals. The real reason was, wholly and entirely, the acquisition of more power).
_____________________________________
A/N: And so it begins.
