We have plenty of time, Laena is likely to die before the dance since I feel we've not really made it less likely her Marriage with Daemon will occur. Thus Vhaegar will be available hopefully to one of our children that failed to hatch an egg, or a half-sibling. (I'd like to try and have a good relationship with our half-siblings regardless of if one of them gets Vhaegar or not)
I'm not at all sure that Laena dying in childbirth is something we should plan on, as opposed to being a fluke. Also, if Laena doesn't die in childbirth and maybe even if she does, the Laena-Daemon marriage is actively quite dangerous to Rhaenyra's chances of succession in this timeline if there is no corresponding Laenor-Rhaenyra marriage.
The canonical Dance of the Dragons was a contest between Rhaenyra and her half-siblings, with the Velaryons having very little incentive to side with the latter. With Daemon probably hostile and no Laenor-Rhaenyra marriage, the Velaryons become an independent faction in their own right. They'd have a lot riding on Daemon's kids with Laena, especially if, as you point out, Laenor is not so likely to ever sire children of his own to be Velaryon heirs otherwise. And Daemon has big ambition, and his kids with Laena would have a fairly good shot at the Iron Throne if they play their cards right.
Back to seriousness, both the other main contenders of Harwin and Gwayne also have advantages that seem to being discounted simply because "this other group has dragons."
Laenor / Gwayne / Harwin
- Harwin / Laenor seem to be very caring parents.
- Gwayne at least in show world likely had some influence on the raising of Daeron and as such is likely not horrid as a father figure.
- All three of them are accomplished knights in their own right some (Harwin) notably significant.
- All are connected to members of the High Council
- Generally seem to be pretty reasonable individuals (Gwayne perhaps has put up more of an act given whom his father is but I think he tends towards fine even if its partially an act)
Harwin / Gwayne
- Are able to aid in the act of producing offspring
- Are not known for their preference towards men
- Have in story already interacted with us generally positively (in show Laenor had childhood connections with Rhaynera but seems not so in this quest)
- Clearly respectful of our martial prowess (I do not think Laenor would be against it)
- Both come from houses that are respected in their Kingdoms, and much like how the Lannisters of the Westerlands are very excited to have a noble of their bannerman next to the Iron Throne for their interests, the same can be said for both the Riverlands and Reach respectively
Gwayne
- Otto become an instant major supporter of us, because we are fulfilling his wish.
- Otto's least favorite people are specifically Daemon and Corlys and that is something I think most of us can agree with.
- This is predicted to be the best cover for our relationship with Alicent. (there isn't perfect proof of that)
- This gives us potentially the most connection to positively interact with Maestors whom are in general less likely to be into Dragons and Us given the way the wrote the canon history and likely aided in the removal of the Dragons.
Harwin
- Harrenhall is the best place to amass an army if we do not maintain control of King's Landing.
- Two potential Master of Whispers candidates stem from here. (Not giving Gwayne Mysaria through Otto because Otto will ruin that relationship at some point)
- Lyonel strong is just, good, and loyal.
- Is someone actually on the Romance List, thus certainly physically and emotionally interested in at least Rhaynera.
- The buffest babies.
- I expect is much less likely to die if Wed to us than if he becomes our "sperm donor" under a Laenor marriage.
Don't get me wrong, there are respectable reasons to marry Harwin and maybe Gwayne if it turns out that he'd be basically okay with being the beard for our relationship with his own sister which admittedly he very well might think is weird.
It's just that if we don't find some assurance of stabilizing things with the Velaryons, we have a problem and it's hard to foresee a way to solve it. Especially if we don't settle down and have dragonriding kids really fast who can help balance out the numbers in a future Dance of the Dragons.
Then no matter what we choose we are going to have a Dance and I'd rather have it with our half-siblings on our side against the weaker claim of Daemon / House Velaryon than with some part of them against our half-siblings, or a horrid 3+ way dance.
I really don't think we're going to be able to keep our half-siblings on-side. Either we're stuck with a three-way Dance of the Dragons, or we find some way to bind the Velaryons to us...
Or we pray that sheer happenstance neutralizes one or both factions (i.e. both Velaryon kids die before the Dance happens as in canon despite all the butterflies, or that all of Johanna's kids are daughters who can't plausibly be presented as having a better claim to the throne than we do, or that in some other way "the horse learns to sing."
Well, as with the pope, the answer is "actually probably more than you expect, if he wanted to call for them."
It's dragons where Hightower is lacking.
On the other hand, it's worth remembering that there are actually two major threats to our rule that are likely to arise:
Dragons, and intrigue.
Dragon superiority tends to decide conventional warfare- if we are a lone dragonrider opposed by 3-4 enemy dragonriders, the odds approach unity that we will be brought down by that factor alone. But intrigue can prevent things from ever coming to a conventional battle in the first place.
Someone like Otto Hightower is a pretty good Intrigue ally.
It's probably worth noting at this point that Otto canonically meets his death when he utterly fails to predict Daemon's coup, is taken captive by the conspirators and is then brought in chains before Rhaenyra, where he is promptly beheaded. Contrast with Larys Clubfoot, who at least managed to sneak himself, Aegon and Aegon's children away from the city during the coup while then proceeding to undermine Rhaenyra's rule by helping to orchestrate the riots in Kingslanding.
Otto seems to actually be pretty mid in intrigue when you compare him to some of the greats of the time like Larys and Daemon. Daemon literally managed to get Otto killed via out intriguing him.
You know, something that has been bothering me about the Laenor marriage - why is it so difficult to conceive children with him? It's not like he needs to actually bed his wife, the only requirement is "substance A goes into slot B", which is somewhat more challenging for a gay man but by no means unachievable. Is it a pride thing? A Westerosi sensibilities thing? Is it OOC for one or both of the people involved to think of this or agree to it?
Laenor's capable of getting erections, he has a sex life with Joffrey, so it's probable that when Rhaenyra thinks about how their attempts failed it's not because he was incapable of having sex with her at all. It's entirely possible that the guy's just shooting blanks.
Laenor's capable of getting erections, he has a sex life with Joffrey, so it's probable that when Rhaenyra thinks about how their attempts failed it's not because he was incapable of having sex with her at all. It's entirely possible that the guy's just shooting blanks.
IIRC Teen Spirit weighed in on the matter that his opinion of what happened is that copulation between Rhaenyra and Laenor proved to be such a miserable affair for both that they swiftly ceased to even try to have a child with each other, and that while it would be possible for us to have children with Laenor, it is necessarily going to involve us getting a ton of stress.
It's not gonna be that challenging just absolutely miserable. Cause in the Show Laenor and Rhaenyra agreed to do their duties and then have their own fun, then they tried a couple of times, and apparently the experince was so bad for both of them that they both agreed to just pass off Harwin's kids as Laenors and never try again.
IIRC Teen Spirit weighed in on the matter that his opinion of what happened is that copulation between Rhaenyra and Laenor proved to be such a miserable affair for both that they swiftly ceased to even try to have a child with each other, and that while it would be possible for us to have children with Laenor, it is necessarily going to involve us getting a ton of stress.
It should be noted that Laenor and Rhaenyra's relationship, while flawed, was functional and even friendly. So it wasn't that they couldn't stand each other's company, they functioned solidly as a married couple. It's just that actually trying was apparently miserable enough that both decided almost immediately that having bastards was easier than trying again.
Under a CK2 system Diplomacy would definitely be Viserys' best attribute. Guy won his throne by words rather then swords in the great council, and while he was alive both Greens and Blacks were not willing to go to war with each other, in large part because how much they cared for the man, given he had no personal dragon of his own to compel them with to act nicely. Even after his death Rhaenyra was unwilling to kill Alicent simply for the sake of Viserys' memory. All that together combines to make him eligible to be ones of greats, if just barely, hence a round 20. Viserys seems to be pretty uninterested in military affairs of any kind and we don't see him really putting any effort into commanding or raising an army, but he doesn't have an achievement under his belt that would make him come across as outright terrible, hence a 7. Stewardship, the realm seems to be prospering rather well under Viserys' rule, but a big part of that seems to be him delegating much of his work to Otto, hence I'm only giving him partial credit for it with a 13. Intrigue 0 is self explanatory. Guy is totally uninterested in the subject to the point of not even bothering to have a spymaster and a massive conspiracy develops under his nose for decades with him being none the wiser to it. As to learning, Viserys does seem to be pretty well educated and knowledgable, given his detailed miniature of Old Valyria, but doesn't seem to show any outright exceptional achievement in that regard, making a 15 seem appropriate.
It should be noted that Laenor and Rhaenyra's relationship, while flawed, was functional and even friendly. So it wasn't that they couldn't stand each other's company, they functioned solidly as a married couple. It's just that actually trying was apparently miserable enough that both decided almost immediately that having bastards was easier than trying again.
In show canon it's could also be due to stress from the murdered lover in their own wedding. The stress probably became associated with being intimate with Rhaenyra as they wed on the not-even-wiped bloody floor where Joffrey die.
If Criston does not make Joffrey marinara of the wedding, Laenor & Rhaenyra would probably more successful.
It should be noted that Laenor and Rhaenyra's relationship, while flawed, was functional and even friendly. So it wasn't that they couldn't stand each other's company, they functioned solidly as a married couple. It's just that actually trying was apparently miserable enough that both decided almost immediately that having bastards was easier than trying again.
In show canon it's could also be due to stress from the murdered lover in their own wedding. The stress probably became associated with being intimate with Rhaenyra as they wed on the not-even-wiped bloody floor where Joffrey die.
If Criston does not make Joffrey marinara of the wedding, Laenor & Rhaenyra would probably more successful.
That's a valid point. Butterfly that and maybe it wouldn't be quite so bad... though still, ah, awkward. With Laenor probably not enjoying himself at all.
Daemon: I am the rightful heir, not you!
Rhaenyra: Bitch please. I'm the better ruler, the better diplomat, the better fighter, the better dragon rider....
Rhea: ...And the better lover too prick!
Daemon: I am the rightful heir, not you!
Rhaenyra: Bitch please. I'm the better ruler, the better diplomat, the better fighter, the better dragon rider....
Rhea: ...And the better lover too prick!
I wonder, how do we compare to Daemon as a dragonrider at this point. We've been practicing a lot, but in that regards he has both age and more live combat experience on us due to taking part in the war on the Stepstones.
Daemon: I am the rightful heir, not you!
Rhaenyra: Bitch please. I'm the better ruler, the better diplomat, the better fighter, the better dragon rider....
Rhea: ...And the better lover too prick!
I wonder, how do we compare to Daemon as a dragonrider at this point. We've been practicing a lot, but in that regards he has both age and more live combat experience on us due to taking part in the war on the Stepstones.
To be fair even the experience of attacking land armies on dragonback is not without use. Nobody wants to end up like Rhaenys or Rhaegal by having themself or their dragon meet their end from a landbound missile such as an arrow or a scorpion bolt. That said experience fighting a dragon would probably be more helpful in other fights with dragons and their riders, yeah.
As I alluded, I don't think that's a concern. The Small Council does not have authority of its own. All its authority is derived from the king. Of course what SC members can and usually do have is political connections, expertise, etc, but well, they won't be able to change our status one way or the other as Council members. What matters far more is that if there is a military confrontation, we are drawing as many landed lords to our sides as possible. Whereas officials are... ehhh.
I mean, you say this but the Small-council named a king and started the dance, the small coucil technically exists by borrowing power from the throne, but expecting us or viserys to just, get rid of it with no blowback would be crazy, so councillors definitely have power,ad while they are appointed, theyre difficult to displace when entrenched
I mean, you say this but the Small-council named a king and started the dance, the small coucil technically exists by borrowing power from the throne, but expecting us or viserys to just, get rid of it with no blowback would be crazy, so councillors definitely have power,ad while they are appointed, theyre difficult to displace when entrenched
Hell, look at how Tyland spirited away Kingslandings treasury, making it so that Rhaenyra had to establish ruinous taxation upon its populace when she took the city, or how Larys used his spy network in the city to help instigate the riots that drove Rhaenyra out of kingslanding and into dragonstone, resulting in her death.
Small council members may be appointed by monarchial fiat, but capable ones who use their tenure to establish roots can become very powerful indeed.
"Your first marriage was arranged by the queen herself, a great political win for your house that should have brought your family so much prestige and influence at court, and look how that turned out," you argued pointedly. "What happens if you find another great political match for your family and it turns out just as bad as your first marriage? I think you should follow what your heart tells you, not what's best for your houses standing and connections."
Rhea starred at you for a long while, shadows from the crackling fire dancing across her face as she looking at you with increasing bewilderment, choking back laughter.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Rhea shook her head. "You have to know how marriages actually work, right? I refuse to believe the crown princess is this naive on something so simple."
"I come from three generations of loving relations," you folded your arms. "Politics doesn't always have to come first."
Rhea stared at you like a second head had suddenly sprouted from your neck.
"I can speak freely, right?" Rhea asked, clearly having something daring in her thoughts.
"Who would know what was said besides me?" you replied. "Say what you want, Rhea. I don't mind."
"Alright," Rhea stared at you intently. "Considering most of your family line is brothers marrying sisters, saying you come from three generations of loving relationships is legitimately one of the most disturbing things I have heard in my life."
"Ahh," you said, suddenly remembering how that detail might look to most non-Targaryens. "I had not considered that."
"But, you may have a point," Rhea said after some consideration. "I was married to the king's brother and that brought my family nothing but trouble. What if I marry a Stark and it turns out the same? Or would I have Bennard Stark trying to rule Runestone through his oaf of a son?"
Rhea stared thoughtfully at the fire for a long moment.
"I need a husband I can depend on more than I need a husband with a good name," she decided. "When we're done, I'm going to write to my father. Tell him I want him to invite any suitors to Runestone when I return. Give me a chance to get to know them first. See how they hunt. See how they react to my hunting. Make sure they're suitable."
That was prehaps more pragmatic than you had intended, but it seemed to work for Rhea.
You left Winterfell a few days after the Hunt. As you climbed on Syrax' back, you were wearing a new cloak, made from the pelt of the shadowcat you'd slain. It was secured by two dragon's head clasps, an additional Lady Whitehill had provided as a thank you gift.
Your Style Has Significantly Improved
Rhea was calmer this time than she had been before, but more did not mean she was actually at ease. She still held onto you tightly for much of the trip, though her awe at being so high in the air still remained.
Part of you couldn't help but wonder if you would be able to tell when you passed into the New Gift, where you'd finally exit your father's kingdom. It seemed a foolish notion. You knew well that lines on a map weren't something on could see on dragonback. Only you discovered, much to your surprise, that you could.
The North was largely sparse of people, most of it little more than rolling hills, grasslands or thick forests. The farms and villages you saw were small, though for the most part they seemed well off. Fields full of people gathering their last harvests of the season, guarded by nearby holdfasts and keeps. Towns filled with people preparing for the winter ahead.
That was very much not what you saw in the Gift. You passed over fields that had grown wild or been left to rot, villages that showed little signs of life, and crumbling holdfasts that even from the air you could see plants beginning to take root. There were signs of life here and there, villages, farms and such, but it was clear the Lands belonging to the Night's Watch were struggling in comparison to the North.
Then finally you saw, distant in the horizon, the Wall. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment as you found yourself almost awe struck by the sight. It was a massive wall of blue ice that completely dominated the horizon. Even from this distance, it looked larger than any castle or any man made thing you had ever seen. Somehow, in times more ancient then you could imagine, men had build a mountain out of ice.
As soon as you caught sight of the Wall, something began to change in Syrax. You felt tension growing within her, even as she remained calm on the exterior. You stared at her, searching for an answer but she seemed fine. No wounds, no unexpected passengers, no signs of anything or anyone approaching you unexpectedly.
And yet the tension remained, growing as the Wall loomed larger and larger in the horizon. Then Syrax let out a frustrated snarl.
"What was that?" Rhea asked, all the fear from the beginning of her first flight suddenly returning all at once.
"Something about the Wall bothers her," you called out over the wind. "It's fine though."
"Iykirī!" you urged the dragon to calm down.
Syrax did not disobey, but you could tell she would rather be anywhere else right now.
You had planned on landing on top of the Wall, a nice dramatic entrance sure to impress the Night's Watch and Rhea alike. It was rapidly becoming clear that simply wouldn't be viable. You could try, but you were not going to subject your dragon to even more distress, nor did you want to terrify Rhea needlessly. Instead, you decided to land at Castle Black.
Although no words were said, your change in plans seemed to ease Syrax somewhat, though the tension never fully faded. She would let out a low snarl anytime the wind so much as shifted. The whole experience left you bewildered.
If you didn't know any better, you would say Syrax was afraid. But that simply couldn't be. The only thing that could scare dragons were bigger dragons. But there was something here that had Syrax, your loyal partner and friend, clearly shaken. Was it the Wall itself that terrified her, or what the Wall stood against? You weren't sure which thought unsettled you more.
You pushed your concerns aside as best you could and focused on the present. You were now soaring near Castle Black. It wasn't really a castle in a true sense since it's only wall was the Wall itself. In reality it was a series of stone towers, keeps made of timber, and other various wooden buildings all gathered near the Wall. The Wall itself seemed nothing short of insanity up close. Taller than the Red Keeps highest towers and so long you could not see either end even from way up here. How did men build such a thing?
You spotted a courtyard filled with men and what appeared to be the slain form of a massive woolly beast. It had huge tusks jutting from it's mouth and the most absurd nose you'd ever seen. That had to be where you were expected to land.
Landing near the fallen beast, Syrax let out a defiant howl towards the Wall that sent dozens of men in black feather cloaks running for the nearest building before her attention.
"My brave warrior," you said lovingly in Valyrian as you stroked her scales.
The two of you dismounted and stepped away from Syrax, though she seemed reluctant to leave your side. It wasn't hard to see why. Dozens of men were now starring at the three of you. Dozens of rangers, stewards and builders of the Night's Watch, honorable men of the North, standing alongside rapists and murderers from Lannisport and Blackhaven. And the three of you were probably the only women around for half a league at least.
"Stop gawking and get back to your duties!" A commanding voice called out, sending those who had not scattered at sight of Syrax scuttering away.
You turned to see two men standing in the doorway of one of the nearby keeps. The first was a big burly man with a red beard that reached down to his chest, his eyes like two chips of flint, and a brutal looking axe at his side. For a moment you thought this must be the Lord Commander, but you realized despite the man's heavy armor, there was not a hint of black on him, and his cloak was fur lined, not feathered at all.
The man next to him cut a strikingly different figure. He was thin, though still had clear strength to him. His skin was of an olive complexion and his black hair was cut short. His face was older, but far from ravaged by time, and he wore an easy smile, along with a black cloak trimmed with raven feathers.
"Princess Rhaenyra, I am First Ranger Ulrick Fowler," the man bowed as he introduced himself. "Lord Umber and I welcome you to Castle Black. feel free to make yourselves at home during you visit. We hope your Dragon enjoys the feast we've prepared for it."
A young man in black rushed out with a bowl of salt and some bread.
"First Ranger?" you questioned as you took the offering. "I was supposed to be meeting Lord Commander Slate."
"Regretfully, the Lord Commander has taken quite ill," there was a sadden expression on the First Ranger's face. "He cannot even leave his bed, let alone greet visitors. Please let your father know we apologize for situation and hope you understand no insult was meant."
"Fowler?" Rhea questioned. "Didn't realize the Night's Watch had Dornish in their ranks."
"There are many in Dorne who understand the importance of duty just as well as those who bend to the Dragon," Fowler replied was a broad smile. "Again. No offense, Princess."
"None taken," you replied.
You realized you found yourself in a rather novel situation. You were standing in a castle that had never once been sworn to your family, talking with someone who had never swore loyalty to your father and in fact had violently resisted Aegon the Conqueror and his Sister-Wives. The Iron Throne didn't interact with Dorne much for so many reasons so this was quite unusual.
You were more than grateful Ser Tarly wasn't here. Things would no doubt be a lot tenser than they were right now had you forced him to come along.
Syrax let out a sudden jet of flames, roasting the great beast prepared for her before beginning to tear into it. The sight caught everyone's attention save yours. Dragons needed cooked meat after all. You noticed that Umber and Rhea both looked visibly afraid of the sudden jet of intense flames while Fowler, though certainly surprised, kept his calm.
"Now," he said calmly, "I do believe the princess and her guest are due a tour of our fair castle."
Fowler, along with Lord Umber, who you learned was there to help organize supplies for the coming winter, gave you a tour of Castle Black, showing you everything from the forges to the Kingstower and your quarters for your visit. In sharp contrast to the Gift, Castle Black seemed to be in great shape. The castle was filled with men, it's armory was well stocked, their food stores were more than decent and everything seemed to be running smoothly. Of course, you couldn't help but notice that the builders seemed to be out in force, repairing or fortifying nearly every building you saw. It seemed the Night's Watch wasn't just battling the Wildlings, but the very elements themselves were taking a constant toll.
Of course, the highlight of the tour would be the Wall itself. The First Ranger took you and Rhea into a massive metal cage that was then raised, rather quickly, by a winch to the top. The ride was a bit unnerving, the cage groaning and occasionally shifting as it rose, but it was quite efficient. Certainly better than the massive switchback stairs that had been built onto the wall. Part of you wished Meagor had installed a similar system when building the Red Keep. Would have made getting to and from your apartments a lot easier.
The cold was harsh at the top, even now in mid-autumn. You were quite grateful to have your new cloak as you made you way across the icy ramparts. Then you saw it. The lands beyond the Wall. You were so high up you felt as though you were almost on dragonback again, able to see for miles around. You saw what seemed like endless snow and forests that stretched to the horizon. Here and there you could spot smoke from campfires and stoves. Fires made by men who had never knelt to any lord or king in Westeros. Part of you had wished you could meet a Wildling for yourself, but apparently your father had written to the Lord Commander months ago with strict advisement to not allow such a thing.
"So, I'm curious," you said as the four of you left the cage and made your way towards the rookery. "Do you hear much from home, First Ranger?"
You had been given a rare chance here with the Dornish First Ranger and you were not gonna miss it.
"Some," he admitted. "My sister and I write each other when we can, when she's not busy ruling and I'm actually here at the Wall."
"What do the people of Dorne think of me and my status as heir?" you asked.
Dorne was an unusual land, full of harsh sands and intense heat, yet able to defy your family and cause havoc along your border. A land where the eldest child inherited, no matter their gender, and a land where men and women could love almost freely with whoever they wanted if rumor was to be believed. As a Targaryen, you naturally resented their defiance and their killing of Queen Rhaenys during the Conquest, but you couldn't deny you were rather curious about them as well.
"Bemusement mostly," Fowler smiled. "All these years and the Iron Throne has finally realized what we've understood since Nymeria landed, that one's ability to rule has no relation to if they wear pants or a dress."
"I think the Princess is more comfortable in pants anyways," Rhea interjected with a smirk.
"I can wear dresses just fine," you retorted.
"Though I admit from half of the rumors I've heard of you, I almost expected you to be seven feet tall and able to kill a horse with a punch," Fowler remarked. "Though, still, you cut quite the warrior's figure for someone your age."
You would cut quite the terrifying figure indeed if you were that tall. People would think you were more giant than woman. Part of you couldn't help but wonder how much more Alicent would blush if she was being courted by a giant version of you.
As you walked through the castle, you spotted Syrax just finishing her meal under the wary gaze of a few gawking watchmen. From the great beast, a mammoth from what the First Ranger told you, only a few cracked and blackened bones were left. The dragon briefly looked at you as if hoping you'd be departing already, but then flared her wings for a short flight.
Syrax landed just a few hundred paces from the castle near a stone outcropping that was covered in moss and lichen. A few bursts of dragon flame burned them off, and then the dragon settled on the searing hot rock for a nap. Though you could tell she was still rather restless from how she shifted and occasionally opened an eye to peek at the Wall, as if it would try to ambush her.
The First Ranger and you moved on, making your way to the maester's quarters, where you got introduced to maester Theon, a bald man and the first person you'd seen at Castle Black with a notable gut. Surrounding him were numerous tomes and books, most of which were chained to their alcoves.
"Now, I know you did not come here just for a tour," the First Ranger's smile disappeared. "Tours are serious affairs after all. You wish to better understand the state of the Night's Watch."
"Yes," you nodded. "Part of my duties is to see how my father's subjects and allies are fairing, particularly with winter approaching"
With a nod from Fowler, Theon pulled a number of books down.
"With the North providing 1 in 10 every winter, our numbers are holding steady, and our expenses have gone down considerably since the Nightfort was abandoned," Fowler explained. "But we are simply slowing our decay and haven't stopped it. Here. Take a look at this."
Fowler opened one of the books and pointed to it. It was a record of the yields provided by numerous villages in the New Gift since it was given to the Night's Watch over half a century ago. A lot of the terms confused you, but even a moron could understand what this account was saying. Every year the yields were decreasing, from nearly every village. Year by year there was a decline until some stopped sending things entirely. The crops, timber and manpower the New Gift provided were barely a quarter of what they should have been.
This matched exactly with the sights you had seen coming in.
"I don't understand. This land was given to you by the crown to provide you with the resources you needed," you couldn't hide your confusion. "And the North provides you with plenty of men. How is the New Gift struggling so much?"
"The Night's Watch is not an easy life," Fowler explained. "We lose a great many men every year to the cold, to the Wildings, to the elements, to treason and worse. What the North gives us is enough to keep most of the Wall manned, but we don't have enough men or resources to provide much assistance for the New Gift.
"So what exactly are you asking my father for?" That was after all, clearly what this was all about. The Night's Watch was using a rare royal visit to beg your father for some kind of aid.
"The New Gift needs better protection from the Wildlings and general oversight," Fowler replied. "That means new holdfasts, and the skilled labor to build and man them. We need money and skilled stone masons for starters, ideally Maesters and more intelligent lords willing to volunteer as well. The First Builder has a list prepared of what we need. I'll have it sent to your quarters."
"That won't work," Lord Umber declared. "Don't get me wrong, Princess, the First Ranger here understands the problem. The Night's Watch has allowed the New Gift to rot away. But nothing Fowler or his brothers will do can fix the problem. Any holdfast they build on your coin will inevitably be abandoned the next time some Wildling declares himself King Beyond the Wall. And the New Gift simply is too far from the wall to be ruled over effectively."
"Those lands were given to us by Queen Alysanne herself," Fowler replied with sudden anger. "You cannot be thinking to dare ask the princess here to undo here Great-Grandmother's work."
"Look. The Queen's intentions were good," Umber argued as the two men exchanged weary glares. "But it's not working. Even you know that, Fowler."
"A well intentioned effort by Queen Alysane backfiring? No, I've never heard of such a thing before!" Rhea's voice all but dripped with snark as she spoke, earning bewildered looks from both men.
"She was married to my uncle Daemon," you explained.
"Ah," Fowler nodded. "I have heard tales of the Prince from my sister. You have my sympathies."
Rhea's interjection seemed to have calmed both men down somewhat. Umber turned towards you.
"Princess, I don't deny that the Watch needs what the New Gift provides, but Last Hearth is closer to all of those lands than any castle on the Wall," he explained. "It would be best if you had your father restore these lands to my house and the Mountain Clans, but have their tithes go to the Watch. That way, we can provide the men of the Night's Watch with what they need without any additional gold coming from the Iron Throne."
"And while I have no doubt Lord Umber would do that, he is a true friend of the Watch," Fowler explained, the respect between the two is clear despite their disagreements, "there is no assuring that his grandsons or their grandsons will prove as true. And if we lose the New Gift, we are never getting it back."
In truth, there was little you could do. This was well beyond anything you had any real power to influence until you were ruling in your own right. The most you could do was promise you give one or both proposals to your father. He was one of the few people alive who understood the Night's Watch was guarding against more than just Wildlings. Though you had no idea what he would do with either suggestion or if he would do anything at all. You couldn't deny you were wary about getting involved at all. This seemed like a Northern matter perhaps best left to Lord Stark.
How Do You handle the Night's Watch?
[] Promise to Take Lord Umber's Ideas to Your Father.
[] Promise to Take the First Ranger's Proposal to Your Father.
[] Promise to Take Both Proposals to Your Father
[] Stay Out, Suggest they take this up with Lord Stark.
[] Write-in (Subject to QM Approval)
A knock came at the door in the early morning the following day, jarring you awake as sunlight was just starting to light up your room. For a brief moment you considered reaching for your sword, fearful of another vision like Harrenhal, only for a voice to call out.
"Princess," a younger sounding man spoke, "a Raven has arrived for you."
You hurried to the door, took the letter from the boyish looking courier, sleepily muttering a thanks before you spotted something that shook you wide awake.
The letter had Dragon sigil on it's seal. Your father's sigil to be exact. Your father had finally written to you again.
Your heart began to quicken, fearing the worst as you cracked the wax.
Rhaenyra,
I hope this letter finds you well at Castle Black. The Seven know you are a stronger soul than I for braving so much ice and snow. It is with deep regret I must inform you that your progress has encounter heavy storms on it's way to the Twins. The Maesters tell me that the Riverlands in general are expected to experience heavy storms in general for weeks to come. Autumns can prove harsh for the area. Between this, Johanna's twins being expected any day now and other matters, I have decided to suspend your Royal Progress until spring arrives. I have already sent ships to collect your retinue and they should be arriving shortly. I must also ask of you to return with all haste. Leave Castle Black as soon as you are able. There is a great deal to we need to discuss upon your return. Your actions have caused a great deal of frustration at court.
I know this sudden change must come as an unexpected disappointment, but it is for the best. And I must confess I am greatly looking forward to your return.
With Love Always,
Your Father
That was not quite what you expected. There was no anger. In fact, he seemed quite glad to have you return home. But it was also unmistakable that he was ordering you home immediately and that the two of you were definitely going to be talking about the tourney, even if he only vaguely alluded to it.
Maybe this was a good sign. Maybe he wasn't as angry as you feared. Maybe he was even willing to consider granting you what you had so long sought, a knighthood.
Even if he wasn't, there was nothing you could do now. The letter was clear. Your progress was over, for the time being at least.
The Royal Progress Has Been Suspended Until Spring QM's Note: Okay before anyone gets upset over the Progress being suspended, I was very clear the tourney would have massive repercussions and narratively this was fundmentally unavoidable. There's no way Viserys would let the Tourney pass without a direct conversation with Rhaenyra, if only to figure out WTF. This, plus Johanna being very near the end of her pregnancy, the bad weather and the lords of the Seven Kingdoms having some opinions on the tourney, all made it far simpler for Viserys to just suspend the Progress all together rather than just briefly recall Rhaenyra to the capital and send her back on her way. Again, the Tourney was not a trap route.
And I do note that the Progress is suspended, not canceled.
There's not anything we can decide or finnagle here. This is up to dad, Lord Stark and the Lord Commander when he's either feeling better or got replaced.
Wonder if we can push the volunteer Lords being sent to the Wall into being the administration of the New Gift.
Would have much less grumblings if the noble-born volunteers are still "Taking the Black" but also functionally becoming Stewards of the New Gift. To the point that the tradition might stand for generations to come.
