Lord Plaskett, you need an advisor!"
"Doesn't matter how many times you say it, Bertrum, doesn't make it true."
The portly bald man with a salt and pepper beard let out a loud harrumph as his sage advice was once again ignored. "My Lord, I must beg that you cease this stubborn foolishness! I admit my shame that I cannot advise you properly in these endeavours but to bull ahead without proper knowledge of these matters would be the height of stupidity!"
"... Do you want the opportunity to rephrase that, Bertrum?" Bradley asked lowly, dangerously.
The keep seneschal took a half step backward. Few are the men who would stand strong when eight feet of pure muscle takes a threatening tone. But to his credit, Bertrum did not falter any further than that. "The sea trade is a difficult, complicated and dangerous avenue to take for those experienced in it, my lord! No place for a novice! I will beg if I must, but you need an advisor who can speak with authority on such matters! A Maester from the Citadel–"
"Ugh, enough about these damned Maesters!" Bradley growled, throwing his hands up in the air.
It was an old argument at this point. One first brought up by Lyanna, not Bertrum. She had laid out her reasons, good ones, for why one would be beneficial. Not least was the assumed prestige of a Lord who commands the loyalty of a Maester. A Lord without one is often considered an unimportant Lord by Westeros at large. Most of her other reasons centred around their sage council in all matters. The first point had weight. Prestige is useful, Bradley knew that. But... The thought of keeping one around just for that felt like a hell of an insult for one of this land's most learned men. And to Bradley's mind, that was what the case would be if they were to take one on. How could a dark ages scholar compare to the vault's databanks?
Well... They might know a thing or two about dark ages maritime shipping. A subject with which the digital library of the vault was unsurprisingly unhelpful.
"Perhaps a compromise is in order?" a new voice joined the conversation, Lyanna sashaying into the room in just a robe looking very satisfied and relaxed. "Getting a Maester just for an expert in seafaring trade might be a bit much." She internalised rolling her eyes for Bradley's sake. Her husband held so much pride in his 'superior modern knowledge' he would never seek counsel from someone who believed themselves smarter. It was why he and Bertrum clashed so often. "So perhaps instead we strengthen connections with another seafaring lord? Seagard is just on the other side of the Neck and Lord Mallister was friendly enough at my brother's wedding, wasn't he?"
Bradley rolled the idea around his head. He hadn't interacted with Jason Mallister much at the wedding. Trying to place a face to the name, the skinny brown-haired guy? Yeah, he seemed nice enough, especially considering Bradley wasn't a Lord at the time. "That could work."
Lyanna, not tall enough to kiss her husband on the cheek, pulled up his hand and kissed him on the knuckles. "Here to help, love," she winked saucily before sauntering away towards their bedchambers.
"Right... Okay. Bertrum, if you could send a raven to Lord Mallister, tell him I'll be making my way out in... A couple weeks?" Bradley requested. "Hmmm, I'll need a gift..." he murmured only to notice Bertrum seemed to be studying the walls quite intently. "Bertrum?"
"Not proper... The lady of the house dressing so..." the man muttered awkwardly, adjusting himself quite conspicuously.
Bradley's eyes narrowed. "Bertrum."
"Ah... Yes, my Lord. I'll send a raven," he said hurriedly, heading for anywhere that wasn't in the same room as the husband of the woman he had been mentally undressing.
Yet another reason to hate Bertrum, as if Bradley needed more. Thankfully, Lyanna could snap his neck if he tried anything. Still, best tell the bots to keep an eye out just in case.
-(-)-
One more place to go before he left for his trip. Down into the vault into what had been adapted as a classroom. Farnsworth hovered at the front of the room giving lessons on simple math.
The little girl with dark braided hair and brown eyes squealed in excitement when she saw him. "Daddy!"
"Good morning, sir!" Farnsworth greeted.
But Bradley paid him no mind, eyes only for his adorable baby girl who had leapt out of her chair and sprinted over to him on her tiny legs. "Up!" Jocelyn cried with arms raised, demanding a piggyback ride.
He took a knee to get a little closer to her level. "Jocelyn, what does Mummy say about manners–?"
"UP!" she demanded again, louder, her cheeks puffing out in warning of what could easily turn into a tantrum.
Well, considering what he came here to do, he decided to indulge her just this once. She giggled in glee as he picked her up, dancing with her in the air before putting her on his shoulders. "Yay! Onwards!" she called with a determined point of her chubby arm towards the door.
Bradley had a sneaking suspicion this might have all been a ploy to get herself out of lessons. "Don't go anywhere, Farnsworth, she'll be back in a bit."
"Certainly, sir!"
"Watch your head, sweetie!" he warns his daughter as he dips extra low to get through the door, then another, to get into a bigger room where they can play for just a little bit. His daughter's squeals of delight bring him a joy he hadn't known existed before having her. He let her direct him like a rider would a mighty steed, playing the simple game for a while. Learning to ride. She'll love that. He'll need to get her a pony for her to learn with in a few years.
Before long, Jocelyn's excess of energy seemed to run low. He brought her down from on his shoulders and sat with her in his lap, holding her securely as she seemed to slump in his arms. "Jocelyn, Daddy has to tell you something important, okay?" Her eyelids were drooping but he had her attention. "Daddy has to go away for a little while. I'll come back as soon as I can, but I need you to be a good girl and listen to Mummy and the bots while I'm gone, okay?"
"Kay..." She murmured, her head drooping as she snuggled into him.
… She just fell asleep, didn't she. Seems she got out of lessons after all. Carefully picking her up to not wake her, he carried her back to the classroom, letting Farnsworth know she'd be taking a nap.
Setting his daughter down in her own bed, he pulled up the covers and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Jocelyn."
She let out a cute little mumble as her lips curled up into a smile,
Quiet as he could, he left her to her dreams.
-(-)-
Just as Lyanna said, it was only a short journey across the neck to Seagard. Granted he had to cross the Green Fork but for him that was hardly an issue. Didn't even have to deal with the rotten bridge troll Walder Frey. Bradley simply walked into the river and kept walking until he was on the other side. Power armour. The solution to all of life's problems! Well, that and a super sledge. And a body to wield them. And a repair facility for when they break.
Okay, there were admittedly a lot of moving parts but when they were all put together they were the solution to life's problems!
Anyway. Fuck Walder Frey. Zombie-looking asshole.
When Bradley finally reached Seagard he was met by... No one. Not particularly a surprise. Bradley had grown used to how his habits didn't meet the expectations of Lords. He didn't arrive with a large retinue, his banner flying high over a carriage where he would sit bored for hours on end. No, he preferred to travel light. In this case as it was just a social call he arrived alone. Just him, his armour and his hammer. Seagard offered him a familiar and welcome experience. He had never been to see the ocean in his own world. What with living right near the coast himself and some adventures with Lyanna, he found he had developed a taste for it. Taking off his helmet to get an unfiltered lungful of the salty sea air, he decided to play tourist a little bit before going to see Lord Mallister.
The first port of call (heh) had to be the docks. Looking into the distance he could see some of the ships of the Seagard fleet. He couldn't name the type to save his life but they were very... wooden. Yes. Very wooden ships indeed.
… Yeah, maybe bending the ear of an expert wasn't a bad idea after all Bradley admitted to himself. Even still, he could make some observations that would benefit him. Seagard was the closest trade port to the Iron Islands. They doubtless did considerable business with the viking-like people nowadays but even so they didn't allow themselves to grow complacent.
Hm. It was about time for him to go see the castle, Bradley decided. Before the sun would begin to set.
A brief discussion with the guard at the castle gate had someone sent to inform Lord Mallister that Lord Plaskett had arrived. Even inconveniences like that were still far preferred to the major inconvenience of dealing with an army of hangers on as far as Bradley was concerned.
In the time he had before someone came to fetch him he took the chance to look over the castle. It was an old structure. That isn't to say it looked decrepit. Far from it. No, the reason it was clearly old was from how much it had been expanded over the many years of its existence. Even for the money Bradley had to spend on it from his tournament winnings and his payment in service of Ned, Strongjaw Keep was a ramshackle thing compared to Castle Seagard. The building seemed to be made up of three main structures, the castle he stood in front of with its high tower, another a little further out sitting on a plateau, and a final tall tower on a rock spire connected to the others via a bridge. The logistics of building such with at best middle ages understanding of architecture impressed him.
And once again showed the vigilance of House Mallister. Tens of thousands of gold dragons, maybe even hundreds of thousands, invested into building something specifically to watch the coast.
The guard returned with a servant of some high rank based on his clothing and cleanliness. "Lord Plaskett, his Lordship Jason Mallister has bid me welcome you to Castle Seagard. If you would follow me, Lord Mallister shall attend you in the great hall."
"That'd be great, thank you," Bradley agreed cheerfully, letting the reedy man lead him into the castle. Great hall. According to Lyanna's etiquette lessons that meant he was being greeted politely but distantly. That was fair enough, half the reason Bradley was there was to establish better relations with the house.
The first thing that struck him as he was led through the halls was the décor. The Mallister family seemed to have something of a collection of shields. Round shields, they lined the walls, floor to ceiling. No specific pattern or theme. Many were plain leather or wood, often with iron struts or studs, some painted, most not.
The castellan seemed to have noticed where Bradley's eyes were drawn. "Souvenirs of the long history between Seagard and the Iron Islands. I'm sure you know of the blood-soaked past of the Ironborn, how they would rape and slaughter their way up and down the coastline. As the nearest settlement, Seagard suffered them more than most and therefore learned to make them suffer in turn. Each shield was taken from the corpse of an Ironborn reaver. Each a reminder to never trust an Ironborn."
"But isn't a lot of your sea trade with the Iron Islands?" Bradley wondered aloud.
The castellan scoffed. "And so the ones we see at Seagard are both cutthroats and merchants. That would make them doubly untrustworthy, I'd say." The duo reached the great hall, the castellan entering first to announce to Lord Mallister that his guest had arrived, prompting Bradley to follow and greet the man himself.
"Lord Plaskett!" Jason Mallister greeted pleasantly enough. He was tall, slim. With brown hair just starting to be streaked with grey. In the face he actually looked rather like Bradley had pre-transformation. Though Jason wore the look better. "It's been... Five years?"
"Six," Bradley corrected. "At the Tully weddings."
"Ah, yes, those were dangerous times," the elder lord reminisced, "Say what you will about King Robert, at least he isn't setting people on fire. That's certainly an improvement." Shaking his head to clear it of high level politics that honestly didn't really matter for men of their station beyond seeing which way the wind blows, he beckoned his guest in to greet him properly. "But enough about that, it's good to see you again. What business brings you to the opposite side of Westeros, hm?"
Opposite...? Oh, Bradley hummed an almost-laugh. Lord Mallister apparently had a very dry sense of humour. Bradley had come all the way from the east coast to the west coast, even if that was only about fifty miles and a river crossing. "Well, part of it is to perhaps bring our houses closer together. We do watch over opposite sides of the Neck after all. It would be advantageous to both our houses if we can work together. For the sake of pursuing that goal, I brought you a gift." At Lord Jason's expectant raised eyebrows, he unslung the bundle from his back and removed the cloth covering it.
"Oh my..." Lord Mallister murmured. "This is quite a gift."
Inside the bundle was a kite shield. Mallister colours a silver eagle on a purple field. However, the silver wasn't just colour, the raised emblem was made of pure silver. No smith could have forged the design so intricately. It was done using the vault's manufacturing. "It may be a show piece, but it hasn't lost any structural integrity from the detail work. You could carry it into battle if you wanted to," Bradley explained, admitting, "I've always liked eagles, myself." Like any good American boy.
"Carry it into battle?" the Seagard Lord echoed, shaking his head. "I could never do that. It's too beautiful to use. Trever!" he called, the castellan's head peeking back in through the door. "Make sure this gets mounted on the wall. Right there, above my seat."
"Yes, my Lord."
"So Lord Bradley!" he said, suddenly on a first name basis and with a friendly pat to the much taller man's armoured shoulder. "Trever will show you to a room for you to take off that heavy armour and we'll continue this conversation in my solar. I have some arbor wine I think you might appreciate."
"That sounds great, thank you."
-(-)-
Bradley stayed at Seagard for a good few days, bending the coastal lord's ear on a variety of topics.
On the sea trade, Lord Mallister warned that such a thing could not be done overnight. Ships that could make such journeys, reliable men to crew them, an understanding of the routes they would be travelling, not to mention any hostile elements in the way. Piracy off the east coast still remains a problem compared to the west. Sticking near Westeros would be comparably safe but if he wanted to make inroads in Braavos or the Free Cities he would need to keep security in mind.
On bringing their houses closer they spoke at length about the details of possible trade agreements. There were certainly possibilities with having Plaskett silver shipped by his own house in the east and by the Mallisters in the west. Of course, there was the problem of the cretinous Frey right in the middle. A problem that would take extensive negotiation to get around. Or to ignore him entirely and work around him, but that would bring in other problems. The Freys were a stubbornly proud house despite how little respect they received. Snubbing them so brazenly would see them deliberately working against the endeavour.
One oddity Bradley noticed was despite how well talks were going, Lord Jason never once, even indirectly, brought up any 'traditional arrangement' for such an agreement. Lyanna had warned him in advance what Mallister might angle for, he having a son while they had a daughter. Bradley had met the boy and he was certainly... A boy. Patrek was five, it was hard to get a good character assessment of the lad beyond 'likes to play with toy swords'.
Even so, not a single word about it. Not even asking after his daughter, not even mentioning her at all. He would have to ask Lyanna about that when he got home.
Finally they spoke on the subject of landed defense. Bradley had noticed the warships near the coast, the watchtowers. He asked how necessary such things were. Jason's answer amounted to something along the lines of better to have it and not need it. A trade port means not only is it a target for being richer than most places, it also offers would be thieves and smugglers an extra avenue of escape. City walls are watched. And so the coast must be watched just the same.
Even framed as a potential necessity they'd rather be with than without, Bradley got the impression Jason didn't see the 'potential' part. To him, it seemed an attack from the Ironborn was an inevitability. The longstanding grudge Seagard held for the Ironborn was quite clear at this point and Bradley did his best not to pick at it.
Just as well. As when their talks were interrupted by the sounding of a great bell that seemed to shake the very air around them, Lord Jason's expectations were proven quite correct. "What was that?" Bradley asked.
"The great bronze bell of the booming tower," Mallister explained shortly, already rising and storming towards the door. "It sounds for Ironborn longships approaching. The day has finally come again." He stopped suddenly. "I can't ask you to aid in the city's defense–" Technically speaking, no, he couldn't. This was not Bradley's seat, he was not obligated to defend it without the command of the King or his own Lord Paramount, Jon Arryn.
But even so. "Of course I will, though!" Bradley answered, following Lord Mallister out and into battle.