Since I am still learning how to color, you guys get the -we have Targs at home - grey/silver hair edition.Also I finished the line art only to realize it didn't have anywhere she was wearing a cloak.
You took the cup carefully. After everything you had been through, you needed sleep. Actual sleep that didn't see you wandering through the castle in the hour of the wolf.
You brought the brew up to your lips, hesitating for a moment as you realized just how odd it smelled. Like a marshy forest somehow. You considered putting it back down, but ultimately your pressed forward and drank. It tasted foul, like dirt and blood and roasted venison with just a hint of some spices. It was full of life, unapologetically so.
As you gulped down the thick potion, you caught a glimpse of Alys out of the corner of your eye and you couldn't help but notice how pleased she seemed. The look left you cold, but you would not get a chance to say anything before the potion took it's hold.
????????
Alys Rivers has learned something about you
"Are you ready?" Ser Harwin Strong asked.
You blinked, your legs bending slightly as you found yourself surprised to be suddenly standing on dirt instead of stone. A quick glance around showed it was late morning, the sun shining despite the clouds. To one side of you there was a crowd gathered, Alicent among them.
Finally your brain processed that you were standing in Harrenhal's training yard, training sword and shield in hand, Harwin Strong standing across from you with an expectant look on his face and a similar training sword in his hands.
Your eyes narrowed in confusion, you did not remember stepping onto the training yard. Indeed, you did not remember anything beyond Alys Rivers offering you a drink. It was as if you had stepped from one moment in time to the next, skipping hours in moments. And yet, you did not feel exhausted. If anything, you felt full of energy and found yourself pacing back and forth to get your bearings.
"Does something trouble you, princess?" Harwin asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Nothing," you waved away his concerns, "it's just my sleep was rather restless."
Harwin nodded in understanding.
"I'm not surprised," he remarked. "This place is cursed and has been known to play tricks on many a person."
He was calm about it, but there was a small look of pain in the warrior's expression. He knew well what this castle was capable of.
"After the night I've had, I can not help but wonder if my family did yours a disservice by granting you this place," you remarked.
Harwin shook his head dismissively.
"The castle is handful," Harwin replied, "but my family has prospered in service to the crown, I can assure you."
"But we did not come here to talk politics," he went on. "We came here to test ourselves against each other."
"I must thank you again for agreeing to this," you said graciously as you readied your blade. "It is not every day I get a chance to test myself against the strongest knight in the seven kingdoms."
"And it is not every day I can challenge someone who defeated one of the Kingsguard," Harwin replied eagerly. "I have been looking forward to your challenge for some months now."
Well. That was a nice surprise. Harwin wasn't just fighting you for the novelty of it. He seemed to legitimately take you seriously as a warrior. Shame the same could not be said for the crowd that had gathered. Alicent was watching intently of course, eager yet nervous over the fight to come, and Ser Tarly was watching you with great intensity. The rest though? They watched you with a mix of lust, bemusement and almost hidden disgust. They did not view this as a proper fight between two skilled warriors, but as a some mummer's show.
Perhaps their attitudes would chance once you had a chance to prove yourself.
"Shall we begin?" you asked.
"Yes, we shall," Harwin nodded as he began to approach.
Harwin swung first, his blade striking yours in a loud clash of metal against metal that was so loud your ears began to ring. The strongest knight in the seven kingdoms had earned his nickname as you found yourself struggling to withstand his blow. It was an almost novel experience for you, having fought swordsmen who were more skilled then you before, but they never matched you in terms of raw strength. And yet Harwin had with ease.
You struck back with broad side swing, your two swords clashing again and somehow the noise was even louder this time. This time, Harwin's blade was almost forced out of his hands as he stumbled back. His eyes grew wide in surprise, as did yours.
You were strong. You had been strong for most of your life. It was how any of this was even possible, but that was a hard blow even for you, especially one handed. Your arm should have been screaming at you for such a strike and yet you felt fine. No. Better than fine. Great.
There was a gasp in the crowd followed by near total silence. It seemed few had expected you to put up any real resistance.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Harwin's clubfooted brother Larys starring intently at you as the wind picked up.
"Kinslayer"
For a moment you could swear you heard a whisper on the wind, the voice almost familar. The momentary distraction was nearly enough for Harwin to knock the sword out of your hand, but you were able to just barely bring your shield to bear as his swung at you.
What followed next was battle of strength, tactics, and sheer will between two people who were more or less evenly matched in all three areas.
While the legends spoke of men like Symeon Star-Eyes and others dueling for hours on end, such things were the stuff of myths for a reason. No one could fight another for that long. Even the toughest and most skilled swordsman would have collapsed long before that point from sheer exhaustion. The average fight was over in a matter of moments, maybe a minute at most. Your duel with Harwin stretched out much longer than that.
Every swing he made, you met. Every strike you tried to land was parried by his blade. Your strength made it so neither one of you could simply overpower the other. Usually such a draw would be a sign of two incompetent swordsmen fighting, but any who saw your footwork and technique would know that was simply not the case here.
The sudden surge of strength and energy you had at the beginning served you well, even kept you in the fight at a few points, but it didn't last forever.
Your muscles burned. Your arms ached to your very bones. Sweat poured down your face in rivers. Your white hair was matted and covered in dirt. You were breathing so hard it was almost all you could feel. And the sword felt so damn heavy in your hands. You were at your limit. Thankfully, so was Harwin.
He swung at you again. This time, it was too hard and he overextended himself in an effort to finally end this fight. You side stepped, causing Harwin to stumble forward for just a moment, giving you the window you needed to knock the shield from his hand with a quick strike before leveling your sword a his neck, pressing the blunted tip against his collar bone.
Your arm was shaking as you did and your knees were on the verge of collapsing beneath you, but that didn't matter. You had won. You had beaten Ser Harwin "Breakbones" Strong, declared by many to be the strongest knight the seven kingdoms had seen in a generation, in a fair fight.
"I yield," Harwin smiled broadly as he dropped his sword. "Good fight, very good fight."
"Thank you," you breathed raggedly. "I have never been challenged so before. You did me a great honor, Ser."
Ser Raylon was the first to begin clapping, followed by a number of others. And few jeers as well. Some were hurling all matter of colorful insults at both you and Harwin, accusing you of cheating, him of throwing the fight, and other, much more vile things. Most kept the silence, too stunned by the results to react.
Alicent was among those clapping. She was subdued compared to Tarly and some of the others, but the light in her eyes was all you needed.
For a second you could have sworn you saw Alys Rivers watching in the distance, but she disappeared after you wiped the sweat from your brow.
You had won, you reminded yourself. You had beaten one of the best knights of your generations in front of dozens of people, many of them minor lords or servants of lords. Many of them were visiting only because of your Progress or to watch the tourney. Those gathered here would spread word of your victory. Not all, and many would likely cast doubt upon your victory, but it didn't matter. Word would spread all the same and maybe, just maybe, people would begin to take you seriously as a warrior.
You were just able to find a stool to sit on before your legs gave out from under you.
It had been a great fight, but it had also been an incredibly exhausting one. If nothing else, Ser Harwin Strong had shown you your limits in a way no other fight until now had. You had won and you had learned. Who could ask for more from a fight?
Your Prowess has Improved
The Realm is beginning to take notice of your Prowess
It took the rest of that day for you to recover from the fight with Harwin. Thankfully, Lord Lyonel was busy making last minute preparations for the tourney, so he didn't mind putting off your meeting until the next day.
You found Lord Strong in the solar of Kingspyre tower. The room was so huge and drafty that you were certain there were Crownlander castles with smaller halls then this solar. Lyonel Strong himself was sitting at one end of a large oaken table, gesturing for you to take a nearby seat, a small plate of fruit and nuts set before the two seats.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me like this," you said as you took your seat.
"Of course princess," Lyonel replied with a slight smile. "You are after all our guest here. And before I forget, I must congratulate you on your victory in the training yards. It is rare to see my son challenged so."
"You honor me, Lord Strong," you nodded. "I hope my victory did not cause any undo strain on my visit."
"It's fine," he replied with a dismissive wave. "I am quite familar with your behavior and Harwin has been eager for a chance to fight you ever since you knocked one of the Kingsguard to the ground. I have been expecting this fight since the moment you said you would be stopping at Harrenhal, though the outcome was a surprise I confess."
You beamed with pride at your victory.
"Now, what did you wish to discuss, Princess?" he asked
You placed your hands in your lap in an effort to appear formal.
"My father named me heir to the Iron Throne over two years ago now and, considering his age, if the gods are good," you added quickly, "odds are, I will likely remain as heir for decades to come. I do not intend to spend those years just fetching cups for my father. I wish to attain a meaningful role on the Small Council, and I was hoping you could help me attain that goal."
Lord Strong's expression visably perked up.
"I am very glad to hear that, Princess," he replied, "a seat on the Small Council would do a lot to weaken any arguments your detractors have and ensure a smooth succession when the time comes. Ideally, you should strive to be named Hand. Let the realm get used to the idea of you as a ruler. If Otto is still serving by that point, we'll have appease him somehow, but that should not be a problem."
"It gladdens me that you say that. Wearing the badge would be quite the honor," you replied eagerly. "But even I know it will be quite a few years before my father considers me ready the position. I am trying to attain a position of note sooner than that."
Lyonel scratched at his short beard for a moment as he considered your words.
"Hmm, I gather you want more than just a seat on the council. You want a title as well," he spoke thoughtfully. "I'm sure Lord Beesbury would be honored to have you take his position, though he'd want you to have some training first of course."
"I was thinking I could one day take my uncle's seat as Commander of the City Watch," you interjected.
Lyonel's pleased expression faltered in an instant.
"After what Daemon did, my father needs someone loyal in charge of protecting the capital," you began your arguements against the rebuttals you knew where coming.
"This would be far simpler if you were just being a heedless contrarian," he sighed wearily. "While your sentiment is correct, I feel you do not understand the full of implications of what you ask."
"I am proven warrior," you pushed. "You know that. You have seen proof for yourself yesterday."
"You are remarkably skilled with a blade. Indeed, you may put Visenya herself to shame," Lyonel admitted. "But there is much more to command than that. You need to be able to lead men. Inspire them. The only thing I've seen you inspire is fear in the heart of every stable boy in King's Landing."
"I could learn," you insisted with ferocious energy. "I am more than willing to learn if someone would just teach me how to command,"
Lyonel sighed again, somehow seemingly to age as he spoke.
"I have no doubt you are willing, but men would resent a woman's command, and resentment carries considerable risks." He was blunt in his words. "And I very much doubt your father would allow you to put yourself in that kind of danger."
"He never stopped Daemon," you argued.
"No one can control prince Daemon, not even your father," Lyonel said with a half smile. "And there is considerable difference between a brother and a daughter, even more so considering what happened to your mother."
That was something you had not given much consideration. Your father was clearly guilt ridden over your mother's death. If something were to happen to you, he would no doubt blame himself to some extent. You couldn't let that stop you from being who you were, but it did give you some amount of pause when it came to your plans of being made commander of the city watch. You could just picture how much your father would worry if you ever attained the position.
"My advice would be, when you eventually marry, encourage your husband to seek the position for himself," Lyonel advised. "That way, when you attain a position of your own, you will have another voice on the council who will be on your side."
You didn't like it, but you did see his reasoning. Getting command of the City Watch would be quite the struggle and one you weren't confident you could win. With a pliable enough husband you could effectively control the position through proxy while holding your own seat. But that was the tactic of powerful wives. You were to be a queen in your own right. Doing something like that felt like you were undermining yourself somehow.
And you knew there were ways of learning how to command soldiers and guards, even as a woman. Lyonel may pretend otherwise but there were ways. There were plenty of books on the subject. Maesters trained in matters of warfare. You could start ordering around the maids or stable boys if needs must. It would not be a simple task, but it wasn't impossible.
"When you return to King's Landing, I would be more than willing to providing tutoring for you. help prepare you to take my seat if you desire," Lyonel offered in a more sympathetic tone. "I would expect a fair deal of your time of course, but you are a bright woman, and dutiful in your own unique way. I'm certain you would make a capable Mistress of Laws given the proper training."
You were rather taken aback by the offer. He was offering to effectively to train you as his successor.
"That is quite the offer, Lord Strong." You were unable to hide your surprise.
"I have a duty to serve your father and the realm," he explained, "and I know your father well enough to know he is very unlikely to replace you as heir, even if he eventually has a son. Thus, I would be failing in my duties if I did not strive to ensure the realm had a capable heir ready to take the throne when the day arrives. I am sure Lord Beesbury would make a similar offer if you asked."
If nothing else you could tell Lord Strong took his role seriously. His tone and choice of words suggested he didn't exactly approve of you as heir, but he still held true to his duties and was even willing to offer to train you to take his position, if only for a time before you, ideally at least, became Hand of the King.
You had mixed feelings about his offer. Law was not an area you held particular interest or strength in, and Lord Lyonel's tutelage would probably take up a considerable amount of your time. Time you were already finding yourself often running out of. But Lord Strong was well respected for good reason and Master of Laws was probably the second most important position on the council next to the Hand. Holding that seat would go a long way towards strengthening your position.
But was it worth the cost?
Relationship with Lord Lyonel Strong Improved. New Status: Neutral
New Actions unlocked
How do you react to Lord Strong's Offer
[] Accept (Will have results when you return to King's Landing)
[] Thank him for the offer but decline
[] Decline and say you're going to ask Lord Beesbury instead upon your return
[] Write-in (Subject to QM's Approval QM's Note: Was originally going to have the tourney as part of this update but I've been in a funk as of late and I didn't have the energy to do it and I feared delaying this update further. I'll have second part with the tourney hopefully soon.
Adhoc vote count started by Teen Spirit on Nov 14, 2024 at 1:39 PM, finished with 68 posts and 39 votes.
[X] Accept and ask for any advice or reading recommendations, as Rhaenarya is going to be acting as a judge and Law-Giver over the course of the Progress, and so she might be doing some studying up on the topic before returning to King's Landing.
[X] Accept and ask for any advice or reading recommendations, as Rhaenyra is going to be acting as a judge and Law-Giver over the course of the Progress, and so she might be doing some studying up on the topic before returning to King's Landing.
You gave Lyonel Strong's offer some deep thought. You had been focused on becoming Commander of the City Watch, but it wasn't like that was the only position you would accept. You had sought it because it was the best use of your talents and it was unfilled. The idea Lord Strong would be willing to train you for his position had not crossed your mind until now. It would mean more work for sure, but it didn't interfere with your martial goals. Plenty of knights had served as Master of Law, such as your great uncle Aemon.
Master of Laws would certainly be a much more prestigious post than commanding the City Watch. Holding that seat would force the realm to take you seriously as a political force a lot sooner than they might have otherwise.
You had come to Strong for advice and you had come away with an offer of mentorship. Really, you had only one choice here.
"That is a very generous offer and I could think of no better tutor," you replied. "I gratefully accept."
Lyonel smiled.
"Excellent," his tone gained a hint of enthusiasm. "I know your father will be most pleased to hear of this once I make my way back to King's Landing. We will make arrangements for your tutoring upon your return."
That wouldn't be for nearly a year, and you would have to weigh in on legal matters before that. You knew you couldn't ask Lord Strong to travel with you, but perhaps you he could provide other assistance.
"I am loathe to ask for another favor after you have been so generous already, my lord," you said diplomatically, "but I was hoping you might be able to provide some assistance for my Royal Progress."
"What sort of assistance?" he questioned.
"My father expects me to bring his justice as I travel the seven kingdoms," you went on, "and while I have prepared myself, I know I am by no means an expert on the law. But you are, so I was wondering if you had any books that may lend me guidance for my travels ahead."
Lyonel scratched his beard.
"Yes, I have heard word of that. I know Lady Jeyne wants you to make a proper example of her cousin and no doubt the Blackwoods and Brackens will drag you into their latest feud," he said with a hint of frustration. "I have a few books I'd be more than willing to let you borrow."
"Thank you again, my lord," you nodded respectfully, "I appreciate the assistance."
"I am simply doing my duty," Lyonel said almost dismissively, "but you are welcome, princess."
Relationship with Lord Lyonel Strong Improved
Royal Progress Actions Modified
The Tourney was a large affair. Not grand, but definitely large. Lord Strong had a wooden arena constructed for the event, with you and some of your retinue being given your box seating separated from the rest of those attending. Considering the relatively small number of lords who greeted you at your arrival, you were somewhat surprised to see quite a few knights from across the realm competing.
"Many knights are making a progress of their own," Raylon explained. "With so many of your stops hosting tourneys, many see this as the best chance in a decade at earning gold and glory."
That pleased you greatly. More knight seeking glory meant that you had a better chance of earning glory for yourself when you decided to enter a tourney. You needed not just a victory, but a grand one against worthy foes.
Your own duel with Harwin Strong was quite the subject of conversation during the tourney, particularly during the first days. Some knights jokingly asked why you hadn't entered the lists yourself and a few of them seemed almost serious. Some knights were stupid enough to mock you to your face, though most saved their scorn for Harwin, chiding him for being defeated by a woman. Most of the mockery faded after Harwin easily won the melee portion of the tourney.
You spent the first couple of days watching the melee and archery portions with Alicent, catching up on old gossip and sharing new bits you had both learned at your time in Harrenhal. But as you talked, you found one subject stuck in your brain, unable to escape. The dream. The things you had seen that night, that woman and what she said, it stuck in your thoughts like thick sap. Simply too real to forget even if you knew none of it physically happened.
You wanted to talk about it with Alicent. Not here, of course. Somewhere private. But you worried about how she would react. You trusted her and cared a great deal about her, but Alicent was a woman who believed strongly in the Faith of the Seven and the Seven Pointed Star did not look kindly on the magic of other gods. You did not think Alicent would be cruel, but she may simply think it was just another dream, though she might try to give you some comfort even if she did.
Maybe you should write to your father. If there was one person in the realm who would take this dream seriously, it would be him. He might even be able to understand it better than you had. But you couldn't help but wonder how he'd react to it. That woman did tell you that you'd find death in God's Eye. You can't imagine that's something any father wanted to hear, let alone a king.
Perhaps you just needed to talk to someone, anyone, about it. Syrax might not be the best conversationalist, but your dragon was a good listener, and maybe that was enough right now.
Who Do You Tell About Your Dream?
[] [Dream] Talk to Alicent
[] [Dream] Write to Viserys
[] [Dream] Do Both
[] [Dream] Talk to Syrax
[] [Dream] Say Nothing
[] [Dream] Write-in (subject to QM Approval)
You decided to put all thoughts of the dream aside as you focused on trying learn from the Tourney. With the knowledge that many of these knights would be following you to other tourneys, you had the rare chance to both improve your own skills and observe the weakness of possible opponents.
There were so many here. Knights of the Vale, men carrying the Bolton colors, Reach knights looking all gallant with feather plumes and flowers on their shields, and a familiar face you had not expected to see again. One Ser Criston Cole.
His armor was better than it had been back in King's Landing. Not fancy, but matching and well fitted. According to Ser Raylon, he had been making something of a name for himself in various minor tourneys ever since he didn't make into the Kingsguard. Cole seemed jovial and in good spirits during the melee and archery contest, though you noticed he never so much as glanced in your direction. Curious. Though, in truth, not that surprising considering how things had ended in your last encounter.
In the Melee you noticed that, while strength and talent with a blade was what sorted the wheat from the chaff, in the latter rounds it was those with good footwork, such as Harwin Strong, Cole, and the Bolton Knight, that won, either by outmanuvering their enemy or in a few cases simply tiring them out.
When it came time for the actual jousts, you realized just how important Ser Tarly's advice about taking a hit was. Not every joust ended with one side being knocked off their horse and more than once you saw someone nearly knocked off their horse only to recover and win.
One thing was quickly becoming apparent in the jousts. Cole was a force to be reckoned with. He had knocked Harwin off his horse with ease and went on to defeat a half dozen Reach knights, few even close to giving him a real challenge. Though you did notice the Bolton knight had nearly won after he sought to continue the fight on foot. In the saddle, few could come close to Cole, but when it came to arms, he was simply a rather talented knight. Though not one to be underestimated as your uncle had learned years ago.
It was the semi-finals now. Through luck and skill, Alicent's brother Gwayne had managed to hold on this long, though he was now facing Criston Cole. Gwayne approached in that tower crowned helmet of his. Naturally he had come to ask for his sister's favor before the joust. For a moment, you saw him glance at you. His helmet did not move. He simply looked just long enough to make sure you noticed before his eyes returned to his sister.
The intent was clear. He wanted to ask for your favor, but he wanted to make sure he had your approval first. As the guest of honor, no one had yet asked for your favor until now. Some out of quiet disdain for your fight against Harwin, but some likely because they realized it was too bold. While a favor between a man and unmarried woman that was not his kin was no declaration of marriage, it certainly had it's implications.
Just what was Gwayne up to? A simple nod or shake of your head was all you needed. If you refused, he would simply not offer and both of you would save face. But perhaps you wanted to accepted. He was proving to be something of an ally after all.
Minor Advantage Gained For Tourney Rolls
Do you give Gwayne your favor?
[] [Gwayne] Give him the favor.
[] [Gwayne] Decline the offer. QM's Note: Yes, the incel returns. In either canon, Cole is kind of a monster when it comes to jousting, so it would be kind of remiss to not use him here.
You gave a small nod to Gwayne, unnoticable to all save the two of you and Alicent. After Alicent played her favor he carried his lance over to you.
"If you would be so kind as to honor me, princess," he said with casual charm.
You tossed your own favor, a small wreath of dark vines and tiny red flowers, onto his lance. Gwayne nodded and made his way to his side of the field.
"What was that about?" you wondered.
"I think my brother was just being polite," Alicent replied, "you did help him secure a command in the City Watch after all."
"Yes but he had to know I would accept," you argued.
Refusing to give one's favor when asked was generally not done unless it was a hedge knight or someone of far lesser station. Alicent had been all but forced to give her favor to Daemon at that fateful tourney in King's Landing, even after Daemon had all but cheated to defeat her brother. So why would Gwayne even bother getting premission first?
"Well you are heir," Alicent observed, "maybe the rules for heir are different."
You nodded, that was a fair point. This was your first tourney since you'd become heir, maybe there were different standards at play.
"I doubt he's doing it as part of some scheme by my father," Alicent assured you, "I know from experince he would not be so indirect if he was."
There was an undeniable truth to that as well, Otto Hightower had thrown Alicent at your father the very night your mother died. Otto was many things, passive was not one of them. If Otto wanted to convince you marry Gwayne you were fairly certainly he would be talking to you a lot more than he had been.
Then again, Otto and Gwayne both had not so subtly pushed for the latter to take part in this progress even though he'd just take his role in the city watch. You'd assumed it was because he was worried about Alicent being effectively being cut off from her family for a whole year, but now you weren't so sure.
Alicent seemed unconcerned by the idea, though you couldn't tell if that was because she didn't believe there was any sort of plan going on between her brother and father, or the idea of there being a plan didn't bother her. The start of the joust left you unable to answer either way.
Gwayne did quite well all things considered, but he was simply outmatched by Cole in the end. The Joust would last for three rounds, with Gwayne hitting the first round and Cole's lance hitting true the next two, with the second strike knocking Gwayne from his horse.
Cole would go on to win the entire jousting competition. crowning the wife of Lord Dondarrion as the Queen of Love and Beauty in an effort to honor his father's liege lord.
As Criston Cole rode past, celebrating his victory, you saw a hungry, yearning look in his eyes. The gold and glory were secondary to him, Cole was in this for something greater, something more, something he had clearly yet to find. You knew right then that you would see him again in the next tourney, and odds were high that when you finally entered a tourney as a mystery knight, Criston Cole would be the biggest challenge to your victory.
Relationship with Ser Gwayne Hightower Improved
You kept your thoughts on your dream bottled up until after you had left Harrenhal and began your trip towards the Eyrie. Then after a few days on the Kingsroad you said Syrax was growing restless and that you should fly the rest of the day's journey. As Syrax was much faster than a wagon train containing hundreds of people, this gave you ample time to find a quiet spot away from prying eyes. You found a clearing on the edge of a forest, the land clearly already well grazed. No hint of smoke or any sign of people nearby so you felt safe enough to talk.
You began recounting what happened that night, the words came slowly at first, it was all you could do not to laugh as you spoke, everything you said sounded so absurd. But eventually you pushed your way through and the words began to flow faster and faster. Syrax did not seem particularly interested at first, leaving you feeling more like you were just reminding yourself what you had been through, but when you mentioned the woman at the heart tree, something stirred within the dragon, she raised her head up and began to stare purposefully as you spoke.
"She was real," you insisted, "I'm not sure if she was actually there in body but she felt far too real to be just a vision."
You played with the rings on your finger as you began to pace back and forth.
"I named her apparently," you muttered, "named her and rejected her, whatever that means."
The only living thing you had named was Syrax. You stared at your dragon intently for a moment, you could never imagine rejecting Syrax in anyway, you were as loyal to her as she was you. More than that though, even if that girl had somehow been a dragon given human form by the dream, she wasn't Syrax. The eyes were not your dragons, and you could never imagine Syrax being so passive about rejection, or so timid in general.
Which left you wondering just who was that woman. A daughter yet born? Why would you ever reject one of your own. The idea seemed absurd even you had somehow caught a glimpse of things yet to be.
"What did it all mean?" you asked, "Was it a dream like Daenys or Aegon's dream? Nothing I saw matched what father spoke of."
The day your father decided to make you his heir he told you that Aegon's Conquest had been motivated by a dream similar to that of Daenys the Dreamer's as much as ambition and circumstance. But your father had spoken of a terrible cold coming from the north. This wasn't cold though, this was dragons, dragons waging war upon each other.
Syrax stood up, standing all four limbs as she stare intently at you. Despite how different they were from any person's, you could read the worry in her eyes.
"I heard you that night," you breathed, fearful of your own words, "I heard you and ever other dragon roar as two dragons and their riders did battle. The song you made was so loud and so terrible."
The dragon let out a soft high pitched noise, her expression one of concern.
"I don't know who they were," You answered as though Syrax had asked something, "It wasn't you or I up there, but I could not say who it was, all saw was a brief glimpse of one of the riders."
Your memories of the vision seemed to taunt you, the riders and their dragons ever shifting like as you tried to focus on them, the only constant being that brief glimpse of white-gold hair you saw on one of the riders. It was almost maddening, if you could just figure out who was fighting, if it was Daemon or someone else, you might somehow be able to stop this terrible dance before it began.
"You cannot stop what's to come," the woman's voice seemed to echo in your mind, "The threads you add are your own, but the weave began long ago."
That strange woman had spoken of the horrors as if they were an undeniable certainity. Written since the Doom of Valyria according to her.
"Written where?" you wondered aloud, causing Syrax to perk up in curosity.
If there had been something written about the terrible dance you saw, and any record of it survived, there was a good chance your family had it somewhere, either on Dragonstone or in the Red Keep. There were many texts that remain untranslated, perhaps you could find something to support what that woman was saying.
And then what?
If you found proof of what that woman was saying, wouldn't that just prove her point that whatever was coming had been put into motion long ago and there was nothing you could do to stop it. That sooner or later you would find death in God's Eye.
You looked back towards Harrenhal and the lake, you couldn't see either by this point but you knew they were somewhere in the distance, carrying with them the promise of death. Either yours or at your hands, that woman had been so frustratingly vague.
"What do we do if can't stop it?" you sighed, "What if we do everything we can to keep the peace and Daemon or Johanna still come for us when my father's gone?"
You were heir by law, that was the truth of things, it was the King's written will that you were princess of Dragonstone. But you knew that people would argue otherwise when Johanna had a son, and Daemon still clearly considered himself the rightful heir. You wanted to believe your father's efforts were enough but you also knew there was a chance they wouldn't be.
And if there was a war, one with dragons on both sides, what you saw at the tree was just a small hint of the horrors of to come.
Syrax stepped forward, looming over you protectively. She out a loud roar that echoed through the nearby forest. It was deeper than the almost trumpet-like roars than you were used to, more gutteral as well, a reminder of her growth over the recent years. The defiance in her was umistakable.
"Yeah, your right," there was a hint of a smile on your face, "we're warriors, if a war is coming, we'll be ready."
Maybe that woman, whoever she was, was right and there was no way of stopping what's to come. Even if that was true, she said herself that the threads you add are our your own, fate was not completely outside your control. No matter what lay ahead, you would weave your own victory.
-2 Stress
Your Bond with Syrax has Increased
Actions Modified
With thoughts of Harrenhal and that first night still lingering in your head, you made your way northwest. The forests, rivers and fields of the Riverlands soon gave way to the jagged snowcapped peaks of the Vale of Arryn. In sharp contrast to the easy travels of the Kingsroad, the highroad would prove step and stoney as it wound it's way between the mountains of the moon. Going was slow at times, particularly after a landslide blocked your path. A few worried that the mountain clans might take advantage and attack, after all you had many carriages and supplies and there were only so many men to defend it all. But the sight of Syrax flying in circles of above kept the mountain clans well away from you.
You were stopped at the Bloody Gate where the Knights guarding it asked their traditional question "Who would pass the Bloody Gate?"
Alicent and you joked about having you get aboard Syrax and answering from the other side, the answer amused you deeply and for a moment you considered entertaining the idea before Alicent convinced you the joke wasn't worth the anger it would cause.
Your progress would then make it's way towards the Eyrie. Lady Jeyne was waiting at the Gates of the Moon at the base of Giant's Lance with a large gathering of Vale nobles and knights who had remained loyal to her. Despite how recently the two of you had seen each other, Jeyne greeted you with warmth and energy, something that seemed to mildly surprise her lords. It seemed Lady Jeyne was not known for her warmth.
Most of your progress would remain at the Gates of the Moon, the Eyrie was small and effectively a summer palace, there was only so many it could handle comfortable, particularly now as Autumn has begun to really set in. Jeyne mentioned on the way up she would be relocating to the Gates of the Moon for the Winter after your visit was over.
You were grateful you came when you did, the Gates of the Moon were a fine castle, strong and stout, but they were also plain and rather dull, while the Eyrie was elegant and beautiful. You couldn't help but feel your visit would be lesser somehow had you been forced to stay in the Gates.
Your cousin was hosting no tourney, most of her knights soon departing for the one set to be held in Gulltown. She has said she hoped she would get a chance to speak to you in private, curiously she also suggested you bring Alicent along if you wish, though she did not explain why, only smirking when asked.
On a more serious note, there was the matter of one of Arnold Arryn, the would be usurper who had tried to take Jeyne's seat. He and the biggest of his co-conspirators were being held in the Eyrie's sky cells. Many among both the lords of the Vale and your own retiune, have said you should put them on trial and deliver the king's justice to them. Jeyne herself was indifferent on the matter, she was content to leave Arnold to spend the rest of his life rotting in cell, but she had no issue with letting you deal with him if you so wished.
Either way, your visit to the Eyrie was looking like it could become a memorable one.
114 AC
Actions during a Royal Progress (Take Three Total)
While taking part in a royal progress, turns are shortened. Instead of three months they now represent one stop on the progress. As a result, you are now limited to three actions per turn. These can be three regular actions or three conversations or any combo of the two. Tourneys, feasts, and judgements will all be important parts of your progress due to the vote and there will be multiple examples of each along the trip though not every location will have every option, nor is it expected of you to take every option when presented. So a couple of judgements for example will be enough to stastify your promises to your father. Also note that some stops will have an interlude, some won't, and a few may even just be covered in an interlude.
Conversations
[] [Conversation] Speak with Alicent Hightower
While your relationship with your lady is new and fresh, it couldn't hurt to talk her and see how she feels about the changes in your personal relationship and how she feels now that you've gone from repressing her feelings to begin to express them more openly. Plus, some quality time with her would be nice.
[] [Conversation] Speak with Gwayne Hightower
If Gwayne doesn't already know about your relationship with Alicent, he probably will learn soon enough. Perhaps you should tell him yourself. He clearly wanted to protect his sister and thus might be willing to help hide your relationship from Otto and others if need be. It wouldn't hurt to also see what he was up to with his odd behavior at the Tourney
-[] Talk to him alone
-[] Bring Alicent with you
[] [Conversation] Speak with Ser Raylon Tarly
You could ask your sworn shield what he makes of your current situation, from his opinions on the Lady of the Vale to Daemon's now clear animosity towards you.
[] [Conversation] Speak with Rhea Royce
Daemon has made clear he now considers you something of a rival and has written far worse to Rhea. You aren't sure if you and Rhea should get together and figure out what this means and how you should prepare for whatever is to come, or celebrate your victory over your uncle, perhaps both.
[] [Conservation] Speak with Lady Jeyne Arryn
Jeyne wants a private audience with you in her Godswood but she has not said why. Curiously she noted her loyal handmaiden Jessamyn Redfort would be there as well. Even more curiously she has invited Alicent along if you wish. Did she simply want to talk about your new relationship or was there something more at play?
-[] Bring Alicent along
-[] Talk to Jeyne alone
[] [Conversation] Write-in
Subject to QM approval, has to have a reasonable chance of being at Harrenhal
Actions
[] [Action] Relax
This is going to be a long trip, perhaps it would be good to get in some rest before you find yourself facing bigger struggles.
[] [Action] Train
The Eyrie itself has little room for training unless you sought to fight in the great hall itself. And the thought of training above the Moon Door was decidely less than appealing to you. Thankfully the Gates of the Moon has a decent sized training yard. Annoyingly none of the knights have said anything about wanting to clash swords with you. Perhaps an open challenge would change that.
-[] Challenge to a Duel: Raylon has suggested dueling others as a way of sharpening yourself against new blades. Have others find flaws in you that he has missed (Pick One)
--[] [Duel] Challenge the Knights of the Vale
--[] [Duel] Ser Gwayne Hightower
[] [Action] Train with Syrax
The jagged and frosty mountains of the Vale were certainly quite the contrast to what you were used to flying over, perhaps a new experince would do a lot to improve Syrax's flying.
[] [Action] Feast
Lady Jeyne hasn't made plans for a particularly large feast. Apparently she had promised Lord Grafton that she would not overshadow the feast he had planned for your arrival in Gulltown. But she is more than willing to arrange a modest sized one if you so desire.
[] [Action] Take Part in a Judgement
Many lords want to see you put Arnold Arryn on trial for his crimes, and many of your advisors think doing so would be an easy way to establishing your authority as your father's proxy. But while Arnold's guilt is clear for all to see, there are many questions over what should be done to the man and his conspirators. Some want them sent out the Moon Door, some say they should be sent to Wall, while others argue for mercy. Jeyne has indicated if you choose not to put them on trial, she'll simply keep her traitorous cousin as a hostage to prevent anyone from using his young son in another rebellion.
[] [Action] Study the Tourney
There are no Tourneys being held near the Eyrie
[] [Action] Take Part in a Hunt
Despite the mountainous terrain, there is plenty of hunting to be done in the Vale. Though between the Shadowcats and the Mountain Clans, such a hunt would carry a small amount of risk.
[] [Action] Study
There is always room to improve your education and the libraries of Eyrie could provide you with a unique learning experience
-[] Study the law books Lord Strong has given you.
[] [Action] Improve your Poetry
Your fair lady thankfully quite enjoyed your first attempts but you know you have much room for improvement.
[] [Action] Study Music
You want to serenade Alicent with music. It's what a proper knight would do after all and she deserves as much. Plus, it just sounds wonderfully romantic. Alicent has been vague about what kind of music she would prefer, saying anything from a Harp to your singing would all be equally wonderful. Regardless, you lack much in the way of training in any sort of music and that had to change. Perhaps Harrenhal would be the perfect place to serenade Alicent.
[] (Action) Write-in
Subject to QM approval
Vote by Plan QM's Notes: The who you talked to decision was kind of one of those decisions where most outcomes (Save not talking about it with anyone, bottling up can be bad) have some benefits, though naturally talking with Syrax has very different benefits then talking with people would have. Also the Judgement will be the last action done at the Eyrie so don't worry about the order of things if you taking that action.
Adhoc vote count started by Teen Spirit on Nov 20, 2024 at 4:28 PM, finished with 68 posts and 35 votes.
[X] Plan: She Who Carries the Sentence Must Swing the Sword
-[X] [Action] Take Part in a Judgement -[X] [Action] Study --[X] Study the law books Lord Strong has given you.
-[X] [Conservation] Speak with Lady Jeyne Arryn --[X] Bring Alicent along
[X] Plan: No Judgement
-[X] [Action] Train with Syrax -[X] [Action] Study --[X] Study the law books Lord Strong has given you.
-[X] [Conservation] Speak with Lady Jeyne Arryn --[X] Bring Alicent along
[X] Plan The Dragon's Authority
-[x] [Action] Train
--[x] [Duel] Challenge the Knights of the Vale
-[X] [Action] Take Part in a Judgement -[X] [Action] Study --[X] Study the law books Lord Strong has given you.
Adhoc vote count started by Teen Spirit on Nov 20, 2024 at 4:28 PM, finished with 68 posts and 35 votes.
[X] Plan: She Who Carries the Sentence Must Swing the Sword
-[X] [Action] Take Part in a Judgement -[X] [Action] Study --[X] Study the law books Lord Strong has given you.
-[X] [Conservation] Speak with Lady Jeyne Arryn --[X] Bring Alicent along
[X] Plan: No Judgement
-[X] [Action] Train with Syrax -[X] [Action] Study --[X] Study the law books Lord Strong has given you.
-[X] [Conservation] Speak with Lady Jeyne Arryn --[X] Bring Alicent along
[X] Plan The Dragon's Authority
-[x] [Action] Train
--[x] [Duel] Challenge the Knights of the Vale
-[X] [Action] Take Part in a Judgement -[X] [Action] Study --[X] Study the law books Lord Strong has given you.
The Eyrie Godswood was a tiny thing by comparison to the one back home. It was effectively just a circle within the Eyrie, surrounded by some of the Eyrie's brillant white towers. The circle was uneven in places, some parts containing moss covered stone, others grass and small blue fllowers, with the various statues scattered through. Thin trees and some flowering shrubs did provide some measure of privacy in parts.
You and Alicent found yourselves strolling through the seculded parts of the godswood. Alicent had suggested you arrive early so you could enjoy the privacy early morning provides, giving the two of you a chance to be alone together without being cramped in a carriage. Thankfully despite the early morning, the towers blocked the mountain wind leaving the godswoods pleasantly cool.
"I'm surprised they are able to grow anything so high up," Alicent remarked as the two of you walked by the shrubs, "even here the ground seems so cold and full of stones."
"The Arryns who built this were stubborn, that's for sure," you agreed.
People always talk of the first Storm King's stubborness in building Storm's End in defiance of the gods but it took a particularly determined man to look at the highest peak of a mountain range and decide to build a summer palace atop it.
"I'm curious," Alicent said with a coyish tone, "has you mother's castle inspired anything poetic in your soul?"
You admit your thoughts had returned to your mother since you arrived here, wondering what her life was like here before she married your father. You had only known King's Landing and Dragonstone, picturing a childhood at another castle, particularly one so different like the Eyrie, was a struggle for you. So high in the mountains, no stables or nearby city, just a palace standing defiant atop a mountain.
"I have some thoughts, but nothing poetic, not yet at least," you admitted.
"That's a shame," Alicent replied, "I know you could do this place justice with your words."
Suddenly you felt her hand grasp yours, fingers interlocking as she did. You turned to see that beatiful face of hers smiling at you, a slight blush on her cheeks, not from the cold.
"Of course I prefer you focus your efforts on your feelings first, among other things" Alicent's tone went low, "I really enjoyed your first poem, and I can't wait to hear you sing."
"I know, and you will," you assured her, "I just haven't had the time yet."
You felt slightly guilty, despite the long carriage rides you haven't been able to give Alicent the kind of attention she deserves since the trip began.
"I know," Alicent smile grew broader, "I am patient, my aspiring knight, it's just your first poem has left me greedy for more."
"Well aren't you two cute?" you flinched in surprise at Lady Jeyne's voice.
You turned to see her standing not far away near a statue of one of your shared ancestors. A red haired woman, Jeyne's handmaiden Jessamyn Redfort, standing close besides her.
Alicent let out a small frightened noise, almost like a mouse, as she quickly withdrew her hand from yours.
"Relax, girl, you are among friends," Jeyne assured her as she pointedly put an arm around Jessamyn's waist, causing the other woman to giggle in response.
Ahh, so Jeyne did have a lady of her own. And now that you thought about it the two did seem rather close at the wedding.
Alicent sighed in relief.
"Glad to see you took my advice about not waiting for them to make the first move, Princess," Jeyne smiled in approval.
"You talked about me?" Alicent questioned.
"Nothing of the sort, Lady Hightower," Jeyne replied, "I simply told her that if she found a woman compelling, she shouldn't wait for them to make the first move."
"Oh," Alicent said in pleasent surprise, "Well I suppose I owe you my thanks then, Lady Jeyne. Without your advice I might have never known that my lovely apsiring knight held such tender feelings for me."
Now it was your turned to blush as Jeyne smiled in amusement.
"Children," Jessamyn muttered as she rolled her eyes.
"Now now, let them have their fun," Jeyne chidded her as patted Redfort's shoulder.
You felt both nervous and almost giddy talking about your relationship with others. Having someone see Alicent's affection and approve got your heart pumping. Ser Tarly almost certainly knew but he didn't seem to care one way or another. This felt nice.
"Sadly, I did not invite you to talk simply to discuss your relationship," Jeyne said, "Though I would like to at another time, the two of you aren't that far away by dragonback, you should visit more often."
"Dragon riding is Rhaenyra's interest," Alicent said timidly, "I much prefer remaining an observer."
"Your lovely aspiring knight has a beatiful dragon, easily big enough to hold both of you, and you refuse to partake?" Jeyne teased, "such a waste."
Jessamyn coughed pointedly.
"Right yes," Jeyne said quickly, her tone growing more seriously, "First I wish to thank you for support against Arnold."
"It was no trouble," You assured her, "And I'm certain you would have managed fine without my assistance."
You knew even Jeyne would probably begin to resent you a bit if she believed you thought you were the only reason she remained in her seat. No vassal wanted to think themselves powerless.
"True," Jeyne nodded, "But your support prevented bloodshed, and few have been bold enough to speak against me now that they know the royal family is active in their support. Your visits have saved me from quite a few headaches."
"Well it gladdens me to hear that," you replied,"is there something you wished to talk about in regards to his trial?"
"No," Jeyne waved dismissively, "Either he will stay my guest or leave here with a black cloak or through the moon door, all suit me fine,"
Good, that meant you effectively had a free hand in the trial to come.
"I've been thinking about what we disccused at the docks, about the advice I gave you" Jeyne went on, "You need people at court who won't just claim to be your friend but actually listen to you."
"It would be nice to have people at the small council who saw me as more than just a cup-bearer," you agreed.
"I don't have anyone for the Small Council I'm afraid," Jeyne was sympathetic, "But I have heard word that King's Landing needs more full time commanders for the city watch."
This was true, finding knights who could serve was easy, finding knights who could serve for more than a few months before having to return home or simply finding themselves overwhelmed by the job was proving a challenge.
"My brother already serves in the city watch," Alicent spoke up.
"Well that's a good first step," Jeyne replied, "But it won't do the princess any good if he's alone in a sea of Lannisters and Reynes."
That was definitely a concern, if Johanna or her allies had control of the city watch that could prove quite the problem for you in the long term.
"Do you have someone in mind?" you asked.
"My half brother, Steffon Redfort," Jessamyn declared, "He's a rather restless fourth son, but I know him well, he's a good listener, he's been loyal to Jeyne and he's strong as stone, he would serve well."
You were certain that Jessamyn's half-brother would be more loyal to her and Jeyne then you but your actions had tied the two of you close together, loyalty to Jeyne was good enough for you in this situation.
"If you could write a letter to your father, I'm certain he'd at least get a chance to prove himself worthy to the king," Jessamyn said.
"I could send a raven to my father as well," Alicent suggested, "He has been worried about the Westerlings gaining too much influence in the city."
"Wonderful," Jeyne nodded.
"I do worry how the Queen will react," you spoke up, "She is not your biggest fan, dear cousin, and she may take offense to someone who's clearly your ally joining the goldcloaks."
You needed to allies who would side with you over the Queen, but having the Queen's ire could also cause you a number of problems in it's own right.
"Oh, has she spoken of me?" Jeyne's curosity was peaked.
"Yes," You eyes focused on a blue flower at your feet, "I do not wish to repeat the vile things she said."
The things that woman said that day still made your blood boil. Jessamyn and Alicent seemed taken aback but Jeyne herself was more bemused then anything.
"Scandalous," Jeyne took the implications well, "I'll be sure to send her a nice gift for her name day."
You considered Jeyne's offer. You needed more friends in King's Landing but what would the Queen and others think of you pushing for someone so close to your cousin? Particularly since you didn't know the man at all.
Action Unlocked
Relationship with Jeyne Arryn Improved
Relationship with Jessamyn Redfort Established
How do you react to Jeyne and Jessamyn's Offer?
[] Accept, promise to send you father a letter and have them send Steffon to King's Landing Immediately
[] Ask to have Steffon join your Progress first so you have a chance to get to know him better.
[] Decline, it's not worth the Risk
[] Write-in (Subject to QM Approval)
With the trial looming over your thoughts, you decided to focus on the law books Lord Strong gave you that focused on sucession. Various Maesters and Justicars had written on the subject over the centuries.
What they wrote was, to put it bluntly, incredibly messy. You could find twenty different ways of handling sucession in two different tomes and even more opinions on the matter. You could tell there were some who would assert that obiviously you were the heir to the throne, while other writers would scream bloody murder at the idea and all but call for your head. The truth of the matter is there was no codified sucession law anywhere in westeros. While this was particularly true with the Iron Throne, even among the Andal Kings before Aegon it was clear that the standards of sucession were more guidelines then firm rules. Even the wills of various lords and kings dedicating their sucession have been ignored in the past
Daughters came before a lord's brother and yet you saw many examples of daughters being ignored entirely in favor of their uncle. Sometimes sucession passed not to the daughter but to the daughter's husband who assumed her family's name. Some cases you saw a lord or king have their throne go to the daughter's son instead of their daughter directly.
And yet, you also saw many examples of daughters inheriting in their own right, almost all the great houses had Queens at some point in their histories before the Targaryen Conquest. Women could inherit, no matter what many claimed, it just seemed to be a matter of the strength of the woman in question and or a matter of luck and cirumstances.
All that said, as descandants of one of the first Andal Kings, the Arryns did stick closely to Andal traditions in this matter most of the time. Sons before daughters, daughters before brothers, trueborn children before bastards.
One volume that Lyonel gave you caught your attention as you studied in the Eyrie's libraries. It was not so much book or tome but more a collection of various resolved legal disputes that Lyonel had gathered for his own study. While most of them were dry matters, or petty affairs from the Riverlands. By the Seven Hells did the Riverlands love to bicker.
You noticed a fair few of them were requests to help resolve matters of disputed inheretiance. House Banefort having a dispute between a legitmazed bastard son and uncle over who was rightful heir, twin sisters of House Ball both claiming to be the first born. When it came to matters of inhertiance, the King was the final arbiter of who was the rightful heir to any lordship if the matter was under question.
Largely most noble houses never took it that far, trying to avoid having matters of their own house dictated to them by an outsider, but it was an option.
And curiously, there was no sign Arnold Arryn ever raised his dispute to the King. This collection had no mention of the Aryyns and it was fairly recent in it's records. You also could not recall such a dispute ever being mentioned in the Small Council, and you knew a dispute over a lord paramountship would be a topic of heavy conversation. Arnold Arryn never tried to claim the Vale through legal means.
This was quite compelling evidence. Not only was Arnold guilty of treason against his liege, one of the blackest of sins, he knew his position was weak enough that the Iron Throne would not have supported his claim had he tried to claim it legitmately.
You didn't need evidence to throw the man out the moon door or send him to the wall, but what you'd discovered would give you a great chance of making him look the utter fool in court.
Stewardship Improved
Learning Improved
The throne room of the Eyrie was beautiful to behold. Polished white stone and sky blue banners complimented each other and even though fall had come, the hearths kept it full of warmth. Today was the day. Technically it was Lady Arryn who was holding court, but it would be on you to lead the proceedings. To hold a trial and judge the fate of over a dozen men.
You shifted uncomfortably on the chair, glancing over to Jeyne on the Arryn's weirwood throne beside you. For all that you had prepared, for all that you wanted to do this, now that the time had come, your were having nerves. Though she did not. When she noticed your look, Jeyne simply smiled and gave you a brief nod. Your gaze wandered to the other side where Ser Raylon, Alicent and Ser Gwayne were standing. Lady Arryn had been right. It was important to have friendly faces around you. For many reasons.
When the servants opened the doors, any doubt was long gone from your mind. Instead, a hundred hours of courtly lessons seemed to snap into effect. You straightened your pose, brushed a few creases out of the long black and red velvet dress your handmaiden had chosen for the ocassion, and schooled your expression in a firm, yet polite mien.
The room filled rapidly, first with courtiers then with guards leading the accused in. They were a peculiar sight. A number of lords had already been pardoned on account of having captured Arnold Arryn and bringing him to the Eyrie, or who had not committed themselves openly enough to put them to trial over it. What was left were mostly minor lordlings and a few knights who either had not known to dip their banners at the right time or who were truly committed to the cause. Most of them had eschewed to wear their house colors or only subtly did so. It was not a good sight for a house to have ones banner seen among the accussed of a treason trial.
But Arnold Arryn himself was quite the opposite. Wearing the falcon crest proudly on a sky blue doublet, he seemed to even now wish to contest Jeynes lordship. Where the others tried to look contrite, he held his head high and proud. So far, you had not met the man. You had heard and read much about him. Talked with many in the Eyrie who knew him too. From what you gathered, he was a decent enough knight with a bit too much pride and ambition for his own good. Seeing him in person though, you had the feeling that you would not find him a very likeable sort.
The doors closed again and the murmurs of the crowed died down as Jeyne rose from her throne and spoke. Her tone was almost unfamiliar as it was the first time you heard her speak as Lord Paramount of the Mountain and Vale. "My court. I have called you today to witness the trial of Ser Arnold Arryn, who stands accussed of having raised banners in defiance of his liege lady, his goal no less than treason and usurpation of my lands and titles."
"It is not treason for the true heir to ask for what is rightfully his," Arnold called out, confirming Jeynes suspicion that he would try to disrupt the proceedings as much as possible.
She did deign to answer him. Instead, she raised her hand towards you. "The accussed will receive a fair trial, for it will not be me to pass judgement. On behalf of King Viserys Targaryen, his daughter and heiress Rhaenyra Targaryen shall pass judgement in the Iron Throne's name."
Then she sat and you rose, striding forward onto the small dais overlooking the Moon Door. Your eyes met those of Arnold. He was judging. Weighing. And within that single moment, you knew that he had already dismissed you. "Ser Arnold Arryn," you called over to him, careful to keep the edge annoyance out of your voice. "The crimes you are accussed off by your liege lady are severe. What do you say to these allegations?"
"That they are false, and so is this trial." The crowd began to murmur once more, surprised by his daring. "That woman sits on the throne that by law and custom should be mine. All I did was to gather allies to restore the rightful order to our lands."
"Then you claim that she is not her fathers daughter and heiress?" You probed carefully, trying to put just the right amount of curiosity into you tone to sound as if you not already knew his opinion.
"No. I say that womanfolk is not fit to sit a throne," he called back with no hesitation. Some of the other accused were nodding at this statement, while the rest tried to seem as small as possible, very aware how poor an argument he had made given his judge. "They should be passed over when there is a hale and healthy man who can inherit."
You were tempted to recite all the reasons for why he was wrong, with dates and names for rulers, events and scholars reporting them. Once this was done with, you would have to write Lord Lyonel to think him for his aid. But Arnold Arryn was unlikely to care and the crowd would not appreciate a droning legal argument either, so you kept it brief. "There have been a great number of women sitting on this throne as queens. Legends of Queen Alyssa Arryn are still well known today and Rowenna Arryn ruled less than two centuries ago."
He had no good response to it, and the sneer on his face told you he knew as much. "Legends and odd circumstances make no rules of succession."
"If you have such rules in writing, would you present them to the court? I have scoured the library of the Eyri and sadly found no such thing."
You could see his fists clench. "It is custom, not written law. Every good and proper Valeman knows." This time a few more men nodded, not just among the accused and Arnold noticed just as you did.
"Then you claim, just as Lady Jeyne, to be heir by the same laws and customs. Why did you not call upon the Iron Throne to judge in this matter?" The was a glint in his eye as you said this that made you wary of what he would respond, but you pressed on. He would not dare to doubt the Kings rights. "That is the way such matters are to be resolved since Aegon the Conquerer forged his throne, not through armies in the field."
"This is a matter of the Vale and not for you to judge," he dared.
There were a few gasps in the crowd and some of his fellow traitors tried to best to have the color of their faces match the marble. But Arnold himself just puffed out his chest, leaving you boggling at the audacity. "You claim the King has no right to judge over a Lord Paramounts succession?" you asked him, not sure if you could trust your ears.
But he went on. "I see no King before me. Just a spoiled girl playing with her father's title." More gasps went through the crowd and from the corner of your eye you saw your sworn shield's hand resting on his blade. Arnold too seemed to notice, suddenly studying Ser Tarly quiet intently.
"Arnold, have you gone mad in the sky cells?" Lady Arryn called incredolously from behind.
"Ser Arnold, dear cousin. That is the one honour you will never take from me," he called back to her, before turning to the crowd. "And it is not I who has gone mad! All Seven fearing men know that a woman is not fit to rule. It his the Father who leads, and the Mother's role is to bear and rear his heirs. So it was always meant to be."
More nods in the crowd and you were not surprised in the slightest. This what you had always feared. What you had always struggled with. Given the slightest reason, so many men were willing to consider Jeyne and you their lesser against all sense and reason. You had to shut this down before he made even more of a farce of this trial. "So, this is the basis of your claim then? That your disdain for women weighs more than even the word of Iron Throne?"
"My cousin will lead the Vale to ruin," he called loudly to be heard over the crowd. "The Seven will send us blight and long winters for letting her sit on the falcon. A fornicator! Who lays with other womanfolk and beasts instead of men! How could they not curse us for this?"
Your chest felt tight and hot. The memories returned of sitting in a chamber of the Red Keep, watching your step-mother petting a cat while calling your friend a vile and unnatural. You remembered the terror you saw in Alicents eyes as she admitted her feelings to you, all but expecting to be struck down on the spot by the gods for her transgression.
There were so many words you wished to hurl back, but before you found the right one, he looked straight into your eyes. "Is that why you help her? Did she bed you too?" Court was being held. But you struggled to focus on anything but this disgusting man. The armsmen moved to restrain him and quiet the crowd, but it was too little, too late.
"Enough!" Arnolds harsh bellow cut through the room, silencing everyone. His gaze was almost wild, like a cornered beast. "I will no longer quietly stand here. My life and honor is not a prop for your mummers farce."
You knew already what his next words would before he said them, just from how he strode forward to the edge of the Moon Gate with his head held high and a glance to your sworn shield. "Your father might indulge your childish whims, but I will not entertain your pretensions. You are not fit to pass judgement on a knights honor. My fate will be decided only by steel and the Sevens grace. Name your champion, girl." He almost spat the last word as if it was the worst insult he ever uttered.
The room was silent. All eyes turned to you as with bated breath. They waited for your reaction. Unbidden, your hand went your belt, finding only the velvet folds of your dress instead of a blade. You could see in the faces of the crowd that Arnolds words had hit their mark. His fellow accused looked defiant and proud all of the sudden, and many others around likewise seemed to approve of his words. You could almost hear the hateful and cruel things they must have thought.
There was a heat in your chest you had never known before. As hot as a dragons breath and just as terrible. Suddenly there was nothing else that mattered. No politics. No carefully wrought plans. All that you could see was the traitor before you. A man who, even with his life in your hands, was still belittleling, taunting and insulting you. You already knew what they would whisper behind your back in the days to come. How they would praise him for standing up for what was right an proper. A hero, in death perhaps even more than in life, who defied two unfit lieges at once.
Unless you shut them up. Once and for all.
What Do You Do?
[] [Defiant] Demand a blade. [] Call for Ser Tarly.
[] Let Jeyne Arryn name a champion.
[] Call for a knight in the room willing to defend Jeyne's and your honor.
QM's Note: First, many thanks to @Azel who wrote the final section of this update, he's done a lot of great working fixing my errors with this quest and I was thrilled that he wanted to contribute his own writing to it.
[X] [Write-in] Duel and kill him with your barehands. A traitorous cur like Arnold doesn't deserve a proper duel, but to be brutally stomped into the ground like the worm that he is.
"Ser Tarly? Lend me your blade. If the traitor wishes for a swift judgement by steel, I shall grant it to him." You called over to your sworn shield while your gaze was still boring into Arnold. Suddenly the failed pretender no longer seemed so certain of himself and you savored his expression of worry far more than you should have. Far away you heard shocked gasps and murmurs from the court, but it did not matter.
"My lady," your sworn shield began, but whatever else he wished to say died in his throat as you rose your hand to him. He knew your choice had been made and that there was little he could do now. The hilt of his sword felt cold as ice in your grip. The longsword seeming light as a feather as you weighed it in your hand to feel it's balance.
As you strode around the Moon Gate, Arnolds hands were unbound and he was given a blade of his own. A few times he seemed to wish to say something to you, but it was clear that words escaped him for the moment. Until he rallied himself, plastering that smug look onto his face once more. "I will not have your father come for my head. I will show you the folly of pretending to be a man and then you will yield. One day, you will be thankful for the lesson I am about to teach you." He spoke as if he truly believed it. As if there was one and only one way this could end.
You did not deign him with an answer, taking a proper stance opposite of him instead. The dress was straining ever so slightly under the movements and you quietly thanked the royal seamstress for having taken you seriously when you asked for clothes that would not constrain you.
Ser Arnold Arryn had been a knight for many years, though not a renowned one, and you could see why. Even when he finally decided to take a proper stance, it was sloppy. His footwork was decent enough, but his balance was lacking. Or was he just not taking this seriously, even now that steel had been drawn?
"Ser Arnold Arryn," the voice of lady Jeyne managed to reach you even through the roaring flames burning in you heart. She spoke with all the gravitas of court, her voice not betraying the slightest hint of what she thought of your actions. "You stand accused to have committed treason by trying to usurp your liege lady's lands and titles. As it is your right, you have been granted a trial by combat. May the Seven guide us today, so that justice may prevail."
"Begin."
He rushed forward, blade extended. Not to the body. A low stab to the thigh. He was still a step out when you knew what he was doing. Half a step to the side and turn, just as the blade passed. Your own sword slashed upwards and caught his swordhand. His blade clattered to the ground from limp fingers. Before he even could register what had happened, the pommel your blade crashed into his face. Dimly you felt the warm wetness on your hand as his nose broke.
Most swordfights were decided in a single exchange, so you had been thought, and no one could doubt if this was a duel, then that it was over. But it was not a duel. As he fell to his knees, you were already standing beside him. The fire burned ever hotter as it demanded you do what you had to do. What you wanted to do.
With a single strike, you cut through Arnold Arryn's neck and sent his head rolling.
The court was so silent that the dull thump of his body sounded like a thunderclap.
And suddenly, the fire was gone. Instead of unbearable heat, you could only feel cold and the blade so heavy all of the sudden. You stared at lifeless head before your feet, blood pooling around it. You had killed him. Just like that. You had spent days pouring over the minutia of this mans life and follies. Talked with people who knew him, called him a friend even, to find the right thing to do with him. And now was gone. Just a body waiting to be burried. No more taunts and sneers. No more insults and grandstanding. And with horror you realized that part of you was proud of having murdered him.
A hand fell on your shoulder, gripping it firmly. "You have fought well." Ser Tarlys voice seemed far away at that moment. It took a moment until you could tear your eyes from the man you killed and to him. Alicent was with him, pale as a ghost and with shaky hands began to dabb at you with a handkerchief. It turned more and more red with every time it touched you.
You sworn shields hand rose and you stared at it. "I hope my blade was of good service," he prompted and you numbly handed it to him. Gently but firmly, he and Alicent guided you to a door behind the Arryn's weirwood throne.
Behind you, Jeyne's voice echoed through the hall. "The Seven have shown us their will and we all should reflect on it. The court is adjourned." Then she too followed you out of the room.
Gained +30 Stress
The sitting room they had guided you to was nice. Probably. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, comfortable couches and beautiful window of Myrish glass letting you look down onto the mountains peeking through the clouds. But there was no joy in the sight and no warmth from the fire reaching you. The strengthening draught Jeyne Arryn had procured from her maester vaguely reminded you of a certain concoction you had in Harrenhal, though it was like comparing plain water to a hearty stew. Still. You cradled the cup between your hands anyway, the hot brew warming your fingers at least.
Alicent was still pacing up and down, a washcloth clutched between her hands being twisted and abused by restless fingers. Once Ser Tarly had suggested to get your dress changed, she had slipped into her familiar role. Without hesitation, she cleaned you up and put you into a warm, wooly winter dress. She even reprimanded you for ripping a seam in the fine dress, as if that was the most important thing that had happened. But now her task was done and she had nothing else to focus on. It hurt to see her like this, yet try as you might, you could not find the words to say or even the strength to utter them.
The door briefly opened, admitting a tired looking Lady Jeyne and Ser Raylon into the room. His expression was hard to place, shifting between worry and thunderous with every moment. "Ser Gwayne volunteered to guard you door in my stead, princess. Unless the king himself demands entrance, you will not be bothered by anyone."
"The court has dispered for now," Lady Arryn began, hesitating for a moment next to the couch before sitting down next to you. "I can play it off as giving the rest of the rebels a chance to reflect on matters for a while, so feel not pressured on my behalf to continue the trials by the morrow."
"What are they saying?" Hearing your voice surprised yourself. You had not meant to say it out loud. Yet you needed to know. Not wanted, but needed.
The way you sworn shield squared his jaw in response was enough for you to know the gist of it. "The court is divided."
"Into sensible men and gallows bait I concur," Alicent all but hissed while she twisted the washcloth as if she was wringing a chickens neck. All of you looked at her in shock at the response, but she was not deterred in the slightest. "Not a single word of remorse. Instead he bragged... bragged about trying to usurp his liege. He insulted Rhaenyra to her face and told the heiress of the Iron Throne that she was unworthy. He all but outright rejected the kings word naming her his proxy!"
With every word, he face was getting redder and her voice harsher. "I have seen duels fought for things not half as crass as what that cur said to her and lady Jeyne. That he had the gall to claim knightly honours. Had the king heard what he had said! A pox upon him and his-" Suddenly her own words caught up with her and Alicent stopped herself, glancing fearfully at Lady Arryn for the curse she had nearly spoken out loud.
She waved her off though. "Desperate men are the greatest of fools, and without Arnold, they only have a boy too young to sit a throne. Let them be my problem."
You took a small sip from your cup as all of them turned back to you. Alicent was still tense, though her outburst seemed to have taken some of it from her. Your shoulders felt ever so slightly lighter upon seeing her feel better. "I..." you began haltingly, trying to gather the loose wool in your head into a proper thought. "It just hit me as I stood there." Your gaze fell into your cup. Looking at the people around you was just too much right now. "I killed a man."
A soft hand gently laid itself on yours. Alicent knelt before you without saying a word, merely holding your hand and waiting for you to find the right words. She was still there. She did not hate you for what you had done. In the jumbled mess of emotions and thoughts right after, there was the jagged fear that she might no longer stand your sight after what she had witnessed. But here she was and in her eyes was only worry for you. Perhaps things would be fine in the end.
"I must admit that I feel I have failed you, princess," Raylon said from behind you. "As your tutor, I should have broached the topic long ago. It is never a kindness to take a life and it weighs heavy on the soul."
You took a deep breath to calm yourself. Mocking voices whispered into your ears. That you were just playing at knighthood. That you had not what it took. But then you felt Alicent thumb gently running circles on the back of your hand, and the whispered bile no longer mattered so much.
"If things had been different, I would have suggested for you to swing the executioners blade. Many squires are blooded first by giving justice to brigands that way." The contrite tones didn't fit your sworn shields voice at all. He had always been the stalwart knight around you, a kingsguard as the bards sung about. "I apologize for having neglected to train you for this."
You could tell he truly felt he had wronged you. "It's fine, ser. You did not push the blade into my hand. I demanded it from you." Silence fell for a while, your emotions slowly turning from a jumble into something you could name again. But was still much. Too much. But it no longer felt so infinite and terrifying.
"Is there something you would suggest now?" you asked him cautiously, almost wishing for a magical draught that would bring you from here to feeling fine again in an instant. Alas, there was no potion brewing witch at hand.
"Some say that drinking dulls it, but I think it only dulls their wits. A knight takes no strength from cups of strongwine." Ser Tarly still sounded worried, though it slowly seemed to sink in that you bore him no ill will. "When it was my time, I had other knights and squires around me. It helped me greatly to talk about it with those who understood."
"Don't you think it is a bit early for that?" Jeyne asked him, clearly out of her depth with the situation. "Maybe you should rest first. Talk with someone about other things. It can wait a day or two for you to gather some strength again." As if in agreement, Alicent squeezed your hand as she said it and a short glance at your sworn shield showed him not opposed to the idea either.
"I know it is not quite your way of things," your beloved lady began carefully, "but in Oldtown, many knights prayed in the Starry Sept for guidance when they struggled with their duties. Maybe...?" She drifted off without finishing the thought, clearly hopeful, but not wishing to push too much.
The Realm Will Take Notice of Your Actions
What do you do?
[] Speak with other knights as Ser Tarly suggests. There are some friendly faces here that you would trust.
[] Spend some time with Alicent and try to rest. Her presence has already helped you so much.
[] Go and see Syrax. A flight around the Giant's Lance might clear your head.
[] If the Seven guided your blade, they might be willing to guide you too. Go to the sept. QM's Note: Thanks again to @Azel who wrote this entire section. Which is also how it's done already because it was written at the same time as the last update. Would have been very awkward if the vote went another direction. Now you may think 30 is a lot of stress for this but uh, Rhaenyra just killed a man, that was always gonna cause massive stress. But it can be managed, I did not trick you.
