Chapter 31: Ha Ha, Now You’re In Charge
Flightless Man
Versed in the lewd.
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Chapter 31: Ha Ha, Now You're In Charge
284 AC: Mace Tyrell
284 AC: Mace Tyrell
I saw Mother's expression when I left Highgarden and it was worse than usual. She doesn't think I can save our house, but have I ever really shown otherwise? I have no one left to hide behind, anyone with the power to stand beside the Tyrells will just take everything for themselves.
As my men raise sails and our fleet prepares to return to the Reach, I realize exactly how much surplus food I have right now. An idea forms in my mind slowly and I whistle for the Captain.
"Bring us to Duskendale, I hear they are beset with hungry rioters." The Crownlands are in open revolt with only Crackclaw Point, Massey's Hook, and the three largest islands still sworn to Queen Rhaella. "As the King of the Reach, it is my duty to see our lands grow."
Mother will be so proud when I bring the western part of the region under our banner. "Once we empty our food stores I want the fleet sent back for more. If we feed the people through winter, the Kingdoms that wait for spring will be too late to buy their allegiance."
If one in five died during the Dragon's Pyre, that leaves over four hundred thousand hungry mouths swarming the Crownlands. Scowling at the situation the Lannisters have forced on me, I consider what can actually still be salvaged.
Only half the capital is habitable and it was mostly the richer areas and the slums that burned. "Have twelve thousand rearmed and sent here to garrison the Crownlands against incursion from the North or West." With the poor forced to seek food in the countryside, it's a shame so much went to the royal army… good thing for me though.
"What about the Stormlands?" Ser Shermer is nearly as surprised as I am at this sudden surge of forethought… he doesn't hide it though.
"With all those bandits in the Kingswood, King Stannis will be unable to bring his forces to bear without us being aware." I smirk when his mouth forms an O in silent understanding.
…
As my men raise sails and our fleet prepares to return to the Reach, I realize exactly how much surplus food I have right now. An idea forms in my mind slowly and I whistle for the Captain.
"Bring us to Duskendale, I hear they are beset with hungry rioters." The Crownlands are in open revolt with only Crackclaw Point, Massey's Hook, and the three largest islands still sworn to Queen Rhaella. "As the King of the Reach, it is my duty to see our lands grow."
Mother will be so proud when I bring the western part of the region under our banner. "Once we empty our food stores I want the fleet sent back for more. If we feed the people through winter, the Kingdoms that wait for spring will be too late to buy their allegiance."
If one in five died during the Dragon's Pyre, that leaves over four hundred thousand hungry mouths swarming the Crownlands. Scowling at the situation the Lannisters have forced on me, I consider what can actually still be salvaged.
Only half the capital is habitable and it was mostly the richer areas and the slums that burned. "Have twelve thousand rearmed and sent here to garrison the Crownlands against incursion from the North or West." With the poor forced to seek food in the countryside, it's a shame so much went to the royal army… good thing for me though.
"What about the Stormlands?" Ser Shermer is nearly as surprised as I am at this sudden surge of forethought… he doesn't hide it though.
"With all those bandits in the Kingswood, King Stannis will be unable to bring his forces to bear without us being aware." I smirk when his mouth forms an O in silent understanding.
…
Davos Seaworth
When Lord Stark and his entourage return to White Harbor, he has the look of a man unsure of his most recent choice but committed to it anyway. His brother who has been overseeing construction of the transport fleet with Wendel Manderly and I notices the look and sighs heavily when we four are alone.
"What did you do?" Benjen is a young man of only five and ten, but Osha has toughened him up enough that he doesn't balk at his older brother's tired growl. "I know that look. It's the same one Brandon always had… when he had lain with someone he knew he shouldn't have."
"Now Prince Benjen, is that any way to address your King?" My eyes go wide when I assume this means he was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms somehow and I drop to my knees immediately. "The Realm is divided and I believe we will be known as 'the Kings who crowned themselves' in the years that follow."
The newly declared Prince gasps at the news. "We're independent?"
"Everyone is now, with most of the Crownlands undeclared and in open revolt."
"Which means the Ironborn will be striking our western shores soon." Ser Wendel realizes with an agitated hiss, his plump face going a bright puce as he grows angrier. "We don't have enough ships to defend to coastlines."
The King of Winter grins at the Manderly knight warmly and even I can hear the offer being made. "It's a good thing you have so many men learning how to build ships, my sister Princess Lyanna will need someone of your dedication to aid her at Sea Dragon Point."
"You and Osha will be moving to Moat Cailin come spring, we will need it restored to keep ourselves truly secure from the South."
Benjen considers the order and shrugs. "Better than you sticking us on the Stony Shore. Wun Wun doesn't really seem interested in all the plans for fighting so I think we'll bring him with us, will really cut down on the rebuild time for the walls and towers."
"I will be needing to speak with your father and the Dustins about giving my brother enough lands that he can establish a tower on each each shore." King Stark speaks to the burly knight with a thick blonde mustache. "The North will be coming to rely on your family much in these coming years Ser Wendel."
The man who resembles an armored walrus kneels and swears himself to King Eddard. "Don't worry Your Grace, my house will not fail the Starks and I will not fail the Princess. My honor and very life are hers."
"What about the refugees from King's Landing?" The King's eyes shift to me now and I feel the weight of his evaluation crash against me.
"Yer Grace, the thousand who joined the Watch have had no deserters yet." Word of the city burning has reached them and suddenly being chilly isn't so bad. "Most families do wish to go South again with the Duke's fleet, but nearly two thousand will stay to work the fields."
He's happily surpprised and turns back to Prince Benjen. "And the Wildlings, how many problems are they causing? Are the food stores suffering too badly?"
"They haven't really put much of a dent in our food supplies, in fact most castles hosting them have reported a surplus." Benjen smirks at his brother's shocked face. "They taught the Mormonts how to collect and boil tree sap into a delicious syrup. We've also been shown that pine needles can turned into a tea."
"The thousand or so from the Frozen Shore we have helping out at the docks, they say this is still just a balmy fall." Wendel snorts at the sight of snow falling outside the window. "They have no problem taking a boat out in the weather none of our fishermen will dare. I bet it's much the same with the harvesting of winter crops and hunting in waist deep snow not slowing them down at all."
"We got some 'skates' from the Mormonts to." Adds Benjen with an excited grin. "It looks like they strapped them to strange curved knives sharpened only on the bottom side, but Lyanna is already gliding across the frozen pond in Wintertown. The Smallfolk thought it was fun to watch us all fall at first, but now they just cheer for our sister's dancing."
"I like this 'sport' they came up with and am looking forward to bringing my knights to Winterfell." Grabbing one of the wooden shafts as long as a spear but with a curved wooden head shaped kind of like a scythe, Ser Wendel hands it to his King with a grin. "We've been training for the battle since we received instructions for our smiths."
Caught up in the competitive spirit Benjen fires back with a grin of his own. "Oh the White Harbor Mermen will lose against my Winterfell Dire Wolves."
"Well if you win I'll convince my brother to just give you the lands needed for your eastern watchtower." Ser Wendel has a calculating grin on his face. "But if I win… you convince your brother here to permit me to court the Princess."
"It's that easy?" Mutters King Eddard, his brow crinkled in deep thought. "No one dies and both sides honor the bargain?"
"Of course, our families honor and pride is on the line and the battle is seen by any who wish to be present." Agrees the Manderly knight with a firm nod. "Not even a Bolton would be able to renege on such a public set of terms, with defeat being treated as one on the field of battle."
"It keeps the men fit for the winter and too tired to cause trouble in Wintertown." Benjen adds with a chuckle. "The men have only had a handful of fights to break up and we're even more crowded than last winter."
"And what do you call this 'Miracle on Ice'?"
Ser Wendel puffs his chest up and confidently declares the name. "Hockey."
…
"What did you do?" Benjen is a young man of only five and ten, but Osha has toughened him up enough that he doesn't balk at his older brother's tired growl. "I know that look. It's the same one Brandon always had… when he had lain with someone he knew he shouldn't have."
"Now Prince Benjen, is that any way to address your King?" My eyes go wide when I assume this means he was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms somehow and I drop to my knees immediately. "The Realm is divided and I believe we will be known as 'the Kings who crowned themselves' in the years that follow."
The newly declared Prince gasps at the news. "We're independent?"
"Everyone is now, with most of the Crownlands undeclared and in open revolt."
"Which means the Ironborn will be striking our western shores soon." Ser Wendel realizes with an agitated hiss, his plump face going a bright puce as he grows angrier. "We don't have enough ships to defend to coastlines."
The King of Winter grins at the Manderly knight warmly and even I can hear the offer being made. "It's a good thing you have so many men learning how to build ships, my sister Princess Lyanna will need someone of your dedication to aid her at Sea Dragon Point."
"You and Osha will be moving to Moat Cailin come spring, we will need it restored to keep ourselves truly secure from the South."
Benjen considers the order and shrugs. "Better than you sticking us on the Stony Shore. Wun Wun doesn't really seem interested in all the plans for fighting so I think we'll bring him with us, will really cut down on the rebuild time for the walls and towers."
"I will be needing to speak with your father and the Dustins about giving my brother enough lands that he can establish a tower on each each shore." King Stark speaks to the burly knight with a thick blonde mustache. "The North will be coming to rely on your family much in these coming years Ser Wendel."
The man who resembles an armored walrus kneels and swears himself to King Eddard. "Don't worry Your Grace, my house will not fail the Starks and I will not fail the Princess. My honor and very life are hers."
"What about the refugees from King's Landing?" The King's eyes shift to me now and I feel the weight of his evaluation crash against me.
"Yer Grace, the thousand who joined the Watch have had no deserters yet." Word of the city burning has reached them and suddenly being chilly isn't so bad. "Most families do wish to go South again with the Duke's fleet, but nearly two thousand will stay to work the fields."
He's happily surpprised and turns back to Prince Benjen. "And the Wildlings, how many problems are they causing? Are the food stores suffering too badly?"
"They haven't really put much of a dent in our food supplies, in fact most castles hosting them have reported a surplus." Benjen smirks at his brother's shocked face. "They taught the Mormonts how to collect and boil tree sap into a delicious syrup. We've also been shown that pine needles can turned into a tea."
"The thousand or so from the Frozen Shore we have helping out at the docks, they say this is still just a balmy fall." Wendel snorts at the sight of snow falling outside the window. "They have no problem taking a boat out in the weather none of our fishermen will dare. I bet it's much the same with the harvesting of winter crops and hunting in waist deep snow not slowing them down at all."
"We got some 'skates' from the Mormonts to." Adds Benjen with an excited grin. "It looks like they strapped them to strange curved knives sharpened only on the bottom side, but Lyanna is already gliding across the frozen pond in Wintertown. The Smallfolk thought it was fun to watch us all fall at first, but now they just cheer for our sister's dancing."
"I like this 'sport' they came up with and am looking forward to bringing my knights to Winterfell." Grabbing one of the wooden shafts as long as a spear but with a curved wooden head shaped kind of like a scythe, Ser Wendel hands it to his King with a grin. "We've been training for the battle since we received instructions for our smiths."
Caught up in the competitive spirit Benjen fires back with a grin of his own. "Oh the White Harbor Mermen will lose against my Winterfell Dire Wolves."
"Well if you win I'll convince my brother to just give you the lands needed for your eastern watchtower." Ser Wendel has a calculating grin on his face. "But if I win… you convince your brother here to permit me to court the Princess."
"It's that easy?" Mutters King Eddard, his brow crinkled in deep thought. "No one dies and both sides honor the bargain?"
"Of course, our families honor and pride is on the line and the battle is seen by any who wish to be present." Agrees the Manderly knight with a firm nod. "Not even a Bolton would be able to renege on such a public set of terms, with defeat being treated as one on the field of battle."
"It keeps the men fit for the winter and too tired to cause trouble in Wintertown." Benjen adds with a chuckle. "The men have only had a handful of fights to break up and we're even more crowded than last winter."
"And what do you call this 'Miracle on Ice'?"
Ser Wendel puffs his chest up and confidently declares the name. "Hockey."
…
Dok Tur
The village of Whitetree contains a few dozen buildings, but all are shaded by the massive Weirwood tree in it's center. The bone white trunk is seven or eight feet thick at the base and only narrows to six before the sprawling branches begin.
Crimson leaves make the sunlight that filters through has an eerie shade, with the carved face large enough to swallow a reindeer whole. I have no idea how to even start looking for the Children of the Forest and after our last encounter… they'll probably make it even harder. Knowing this, I kneel before the face weeping blood red sap.
I place my hands on the trunk and let sap seep in between my fingers. It's warm and tingles my skin, soothing my worries as I feel them shared by countless others. Closing my eyes I embrace the conclave and listen.
Dozens of languages with hundreds of distinct regional dialects flood my mind all at once, but slowly I find myself understanding. The first voice I can decipher is female and snarkier than Tyrion, as she lists all of my flaws to the beings listening now, before, and even after.
"He lies to any who listen, why should we even make the offer?"
"Because the future we face is extinction and he has changed that fate for his kind." This speaker seems to be on my side, but his mental voice is filled with bitterness. "I would like to know my own children will live through the Forty Night Flood."
I interrupt before anyone else has a chance to badmouth me. "Would it help if I take full blame and apologize?"
"Will you reveal the truth of your words?" The third voice is calm and serene like a grandmother monk.
"No." If I do, a whole lot of religious people have a reason to hate each other again. I'd kind of like the Faith on my side… they can really rile up the smallfolk fast and I'd prefer it be for me. "Will you send me back home?" I turn it around on them with a smug feeling inside me.
"We can't…" A fourth voice sounds familiar and quite young, though I can't quite place my memory on it. "All we could do was stop the Others from claiming you for themselves."
Wait a second… "Bloodraven didn't bring me here for some crazy scheme?"
"I barely noticed your arrival at all," An old man's voice answers with the sound of cawing creating an echo in my mind. "Only had just enough time to shove you in the nearest body and none of the children offered themselves. Had to give you the one Giant I normally use to go for a walk, Mister Big hasn't had a thought of his own since the tree fell on his head."
"So I'm definitely sorry about the whole squishing you thing." My mental wince is plainly felt by all in the conclave.
"I should have died a long time ago, but I couldn't rest until my replacement had come for training." Brynden Rivers hisses with sardonic laughter that the boy from earlier joins. "Thought I had a few more years in me though, that was the first surprise I've had in decades… was kind of nice actually."
"Which means it will be your job to find and teach me one day, or this conversation will have been impossible."
Bloodraven adds a final comment as the voices begin to go back to a cacophony of unknown languages. "At least my blade is being wielded by a bastard Targaryen again, I must thank you for that."
"Who?" The only ones I know of are babies… so does that mean Tywin gave Darksister to Jaime? Are the Lannister twins actually Waters, or does that make them Hills?
Notes: Don't worry I'm not revealing or talking to anyone alive/smarter than an animal about being a SI. I just thought it would be funny if Bloodraven wasn't actually a creepy evil old guy behind everything and only a creepy looking old guy. He's no angel in this fic, but I wanted to try something different.
Same thing with Cersei/Jaime being Aerys' kids. I don't necessarily think it's true in canon, but I'm grabbing a lot of the theories that at least seem plausible.
Crimson leaves make the sunlight that filters through has an eerie shade, with the carved face large enough to swallow a reindeer whole. I have no idea how to even start looking for the Children of the Forest and after our last encounter… they'll probably make it even harder. Knowing this, I kneel before the face weeping blood red sap.
I place my hands on the trunk and let sap seep in between my fingers. It's warm and tingles my skin, soothing my worries as I feel them shared by countless others. Closing my eyes I embrace the conclave and listen.
Dozens of languages with hundreds of distinct regional dialects flood my mind all at once, but slowly I find myself understanding. The first voice I can decipher is female and snarkier than Tyrion, as she lists all of my flaws to the beings listening now, before, and even after.
"He lies to any who listen, why should we even make the offer?"
"Because the future we face is extinction and he has changed that fate for his kind." This speaker seems to be on my side, but his mental voice is filled with bitterness. "I would like to know my own children will live through the Forty Night Flood."
I interrupt before anyone else has a chance to badmouth me. "Would it help if I take full blame and apologize?"
"Will you reveal the truth of your words?" The third voice is calm and serene like a grandmother monk.
"No." If I do, a whole lot of religious people have a reason to hate each other again. I'd kind of like the Faith on my side… they can really rile up the smallfolk fast and I'd prefer it be for me. "Will you send me back home?" I turn it around on them with a smug feeling inside me.
"We can't…" A fourth voice sounds familiar and quite young, though I can't quite place my memory on it. "All we could do was stop the Others from claiming you for themselves."
Wait a second… "Bloodraven didn't bring me here for some crazy scheme?"
"I barely noticed your arrival at all," An old man's voice answers with the sound of cawing creating an echo in my mind. "Only had just enough time to shove you in the nearest body and none of the children offered themselves. Had to give you the one Giant I normally use to go for a walk, Mister Big hasn't had a thought of his own since the tree fell on his head."
"So I'm definitely sorry about the whole squishing you thing." My mental wince is plainly felt by all in the conclave.
"I should have died a long time ago, but I couldn't rest until my replacement had come for training." Brynden Rivers hisses with sardonic laughter that the boy from earlier joins. "Thought I had a few more years in me though, that was the first surprise I've had in decades… was kind of nice actually."
"Which means it will be your job to find and teach me one day, or this conversation will have been impossible."
Bloodraven adds a final comment as the voices begin to go back to a cacophony of unknown languages. "At least my blade is being wielded by a bastard Targaryen again, I must thank you for that."
"Who?" The only ones I know of are babies… so does that mean Tywin gave Darksister to Jaime? Are the Lannister twins actually Waters, or does that make them Hills?
Notes: Don't worry I'm not revealing or talking to anyone alive/smarter than an animal about being a SI. I just thought it would be funny if Bloodraven wasn't actually a creepy evil old guy behind everything and only a creepy looking old guy. He's no angel in this fic, but I wanted to try something different.
Same thing with Cersei/Jaime being Aerys' kids. I don't necessarily think it's true in canon, but I'm grabbing a lot of the theories that at least seem plausible.