Of Wars Past and Peace Yet to Come
Twenty-Fourth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
"Above all else, I've always valued competence and ambition in all those I associate with. I will not divide up the land to hand it out to those who are the best at groveling before me or the loudest at professing their undying loyalty, but to those who have proven themselves worthy of such rewards and capable of fulfilling the duties that come with them, if that is what you fear," you begin. For proof he could just take a look around the table, or ask some of the more oily Tyroshi magisters how they have been dealing with your rule.
Alas Randyll's nod seems rather ambivalent, as though he had expected you to say the words but not necessarily believe them.
Perhaps if you make it clear that the door is open both ways...
"I will see about raising those who prove themselves skilled administrators, ready to take on the challenges of the new age that dawns upon us. Loyal Westerosi wherever it is possible, though where no one with the right abilities and temperament can be found, I will also instate Essosi lords, just as I award keeps in Essos to second sons."
"So Dickon could have a keep, too, when he is of age," Samwell offers, the tone of forced good cheer matching a wan smile.
The Lord of Horn Hill merely snorts: "Do not speak of things you know nothing of. You shouldn't buy or sell the skin of the bear when the beast is the one wearing it through the woods still."
"I'd say darkenbeasts and dragons have claws sharp enough to skin every bear in Westeros, all the foxes and rabbits too for that matter." Maelor makes the boast that would be crass upon your lips.
After allowing the silence to linger for but a moment you continue with your explanation, the implicit offer: "There will be quite a few spots to fill. Too many traitor houses need to be lessened, nearly all the Lord Paramounts guilty to one degree or another. And this isn't even counting those lords that might fall in battle during the war."
Randyll throws Tyene a dirty look, likely guessing who the exception was. To her credit your friend does not even glance over much less gloat, merely continuing her conversation with Horas and Asha about the uses of Whispering Braziers to selling trade futures and trade in general.
Your next words certainly have a gift for distracting Lord Tarly from his minor indulgence in old feuds however. "To make a long story short, the kingdoms will be split up and the former Lords Paramount lessened in accordance to their deeds. The peace and unity in the Reach will not outlive the Queen of Thorns who brokered it, and I will not wait to see it devolve back into a mirror of the Riverlands. Next time Mace Tyrell decides to siege a castle and feast away a dull matter like a war instead of marching beneath the Targaryen banner, he will have a more appropriately sized force for that task."
"If he had taken Storm's End then Baratheon's banners might well have deserted him or at least forced him to march home to fight a battle on our terms," Lord Tarly defends his overlord in a carefully neutral tone.
"Which would have only left the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands banners to deal with," Ser Richard speaks up for the first time. "It would have been no less a poor plan even if it had succeeded. The royal host had need of the Reach's banners at the Trident, not camped around Storm's End trying to starve out the most stubborn man in all the Stormlands."
"All of Westeros at least," you counter, silently amused at the grudging admiration with which even your sworn sword with his disdain of rebels says the words. Turning back to the Lord of Horn Hill and to the matter at hand you continue: "The Riverlands are a complete failure as a political entity, torn apart by feuds and war since time immemorial. The Tullys couldn't unite it, the Hoares couldn't, the Justmans, the Mudds, the Teagues... I'm sure there is a maester in the Citadel who can expand that list by another few thousand years of failure. I will not waste my time on trying myself when I can just divide it along the lines of contention. Hoster Tully sold his loyalty for two marriages to the Baratheon regime, so his opinion on this is of no particular concern."
Samwell opens his mouth as though about to try to give that very account of failed Riverlander kings, only to stop at a whispered word from Maelor.
"The Stormlands
will have to cede territory and the Vale will be divided to make room for settlers in the desolate northern half. Magic can turn those cracked mountains and barren hills into fertile lands. If Ned Stark bends knee he will retain some measure of power and influence, but the days where all the North answered to Winterfell will be over."
Somewhat to your surprise Lord Tarly pays no mind to the matter of the North, having not heard or perhaps not cared about the rumors Paxter Redwyne mentioned. Instead he asks: "What do you mean make the land fertile? How much more fertile, and at what cost?"
"There are ways to improve all crop yields, yes," you reply, guessing his mind turned to his own lands. As you recount the costs and benefits of the field rituals he shows himself a competent if not very imaginative land manager. Though it would be suspicious to hand him the rituals, you explain that they will 'likely' spread. After all, one can hardly keep such things secret when every field hand has to go through the motions. Explaining the dangers of creating a glut of grain takes considerably longer, but you do convince him in the end.
Thus at last he asks you of the Lannisters' proposed fate should victory be yours.
"I'm not a man willing to slay babes in their cribs for their names alone, but I certainly will settle that particular score with Tywin Lannister," you pronounce with grim finality. "His
house will be no more. Those who bend knee will have to cast it off and take a new one. Maybe House Reyne and House Tarbeck will have someone to carry their legacy after all. Casterly Rock will be given to the Legion as a base in the west, and as for Lannisport..." Here you glance at Theon with a smile. "I do like the ring of
Greyport."
Surprise flashes over his features only briefly to be replaced with a wide smile of gratitude, though he does not say anything aloud, likely not wishing to reveal to Lord Tarly that this is the first he had heard of the notion.
"A clever thought... It would crush their pride." Randyll downs his brandy in one quick motion, obviously impatient to get to those other answers you had promised him, unlike his son who seems to be enjoying the chocolate cake and your mother's account about the Summer Islands from which it ultimately comes in equal measure.
How do you deal with Samwell?
[] Have Dany surreptitiously ward him against fear and take him to the Hall of Horrors alongside his father
-[] Write in
[] Leave him in peace
-[] Write in
OOC: The write in is about the wider suggestions regarding Sam since it is clear just being around his father is not only bad for him but for House Tarly in general since he is the heir and having a nervous wreck in charge of one of the major houses of the Reach is not a desirable outcome.