Note: A bit of an Info dump in this chapter, since I'll be explaining the roles of the small council
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(Olenna Tyrell, Highgarden)
Olenna Tyrell was annoyed, something that was becoming more common as the days passed. Much to her displeasure.
Ever since the rise of House Mudd, she had been gaining wrinkles faster than what should be considered normal. She hadn't truly felt her age till the day they sent Margaery and Janna to Firmridge.
Her favorite grandchild was in the hands of someone who had little reason to look favorably upon the Tyrells.
The only reassurances they had of their safety came from that mad maid Malora, someone not even Alerie had the utmost confidence in, which was rich, considering how the dainty thing tended to act.
While Janna did send ravens every moon turn, there was no doubt whatever was written inside of it was being reported. It was only after Alerie was allowed to visit the Mudd's seat that they gained some reassurance that the two were treated well by the Royal House.
It had taken quite a toll on her, but she held on. House Tyrell still maintained a strong position and had done its best to avoid earning the ire of the new King.
Olenna had done her best to keep watch over his movements. Trying to anticipate his every move in order to see if she could make a corresponding one that might earn the Tyrells his favor.
While not necessarily the best course of action, it would have to do at the moment.
She had gotten reports of the completion of his projects. Ones that had turned the previously unenviable position of the Riverlands into its most prominent feature. A man-made fortress that had the potential to take control of the trade flow of nearly the entire continent.
Olenna sought to exploit that potential.
She could perhaps use that to enrich House Tyrell even further. With increased security, they'd be able to sell more grain and crops to the other kingdoms more easily. Even with the destruction of the Ironborn, the threat of pirates still existed after all.
Where there was money to be made, there would always be someone there looking to steal it. That was a truth no one would be able to deny, there was also the issue of House Tyrell's regional rivals, who she knew for a fact targeted its ships and caravans that carried grain and crops.
Unfortunately, they were never able to gain enough evidence to use against them.
Olenna wasn't an idiot, she knew that it would be difficult to trace back anything of note to their enemies. Only a fool would leave behind a rope for them to hang themselves with
The Iron Islands fiasco had proved to Olenna the importance of being careful when it came to the young King. With no hesitation, the man ended entire lines that could trace their lineage further back than some of the most prideful fops that came from the reach.
Adding salt to their already grievous wounds, he had his beasts destroy the squid's ancestral home in front of its last remaining members. Seven knows what happened to Asha Greyjoy.
Apparently, it was enough to turn one mad, well more than he already was, and drove him to kill his own brother. A gruesome event that benefited the Mudd King quite significantly.
If there were any thoughts about rebellion after his crowning, this war more than likely ended it.
House Tyrell on the other hand could do better. Ever since Mace first insulted Randyll Tarly, she was wary of any retaliation from him. The man was more than popular enough to rally the quarrelsome lords of the Reach against her House.
With House Florent greatly weakened, Tarly had become their greatest worry. Sure there were the Hightowers, but those fools had set their sights on more than just the Reach as they tended to do, so she didn't care enough to worry about them.
Sure she was suspicious and weary of what exactly they were plotting with the Crown, her spies doing their best to uncover what exactly was going on. Those spies largely failed, with Leyton keeping everything close to chest.
The only thing she gained from it was a headache.
At least her grandson Willas, the heir to the Reach, had Hightower blood in him. That should be more than enough to dissuade them from doing anything drastic.
Her grandson was truly all she could hope for. The boy had grown quite well, both physically and mentally. He had a charisma about him that both his father and grandfather lacked.
Many of the younger heirs and heiresses of the reach flocked to his side. Giving him a solid support base that could be relied on, once he ascended as Lord Paramount.
She had contemplated sending him to ward with Tarly, hoping to mend relations with the war hawk, but decided not to. It was far too risky and the man still held a grudge.
Instead, with the help of Paxter, negotiations had begun in the hopes of betrothing Willas to Talla Tarly. This staved off the stubborn resistance that the Tarly lord had been presenting since the end of the conquest.
Added was the unspoken promise that Paxter would make sure nothing happened to his nephew during the negotiations. It would be disastrous if something were to happen to the boy.
Garlan, the sweet musclehead, did his best to support his brother, the young fool proving himself quite the warrior which worked to impress the more martial inclined. The same could be said about Loras, though that boy was developing rather odd tastes that offended the sensibilities of the more conservative among the nobility.
An annoyingly familiar whine could be heard coming her way and breaking her from her thoughts.
'Mace', she sighed with irritation.
Olenna seated herself properly as the voices of her son and good daughter came close.
Alerie's irritated voice could be made out, "Mace, you cannot tell me, you just realized that now." She said with displeasure.
"But… But… Who are we going to sell our crops and grain to if not the savages." Mace whined petulantly.
"The northerners are hardly the only ones we've been trading with and it's not like they have stopped buying from us." Alerie retorted.
"Still, think of the gold we've lost. I bet those bastards are just laughing at us behind our backs."
Olenna could practically picture her good daughter Rolling her eyes at his words, "Those 'bastards' as you call them also sell to the northerners like us and are losing just as much gold."
"You don't understand dear… though it's not your fault, it can hardly be expected of a woman to know the trade," Mace spoke to her in that familiar condescending tone of his.
Silence filled the gardens at his words before a loud crack could be heard and hurried footsteps followed after. Olenna closed her eyes, as she despaired at the thought of having to fix yet another of her son's messes.
Hesitant footsteps came close, as a red-faced Mace came into view.
There was a deadpan on her face as she observed the marks of a slap on his face. Her son to his credit did his best to avoid looking at her as he sat himself down.
One of the maids quietly poured him a cup of wine, before bowing and excusing herself. Olenna merely stayed silent as she waited for the oaf to speak.
"Word has been sent that the talks were a success. The wedding has been scheduled once she's flowered." Mace prompted eagerly.
Olenna stayed silent as she stared tiredly at her son.
"The girl was quite taken with Willas. Paxter says that if all goes well, this marriage could prove fruitful." He continued.
Again, Olenna said nothing.
She had expected the talks to succeed. As angry as Tarly was, the stuck-up cunt would never forgive himself if he didn't agree to such a beneficial opportunity.
No one wanted to marry a dwarf, not when it would damage their pride. The Durrandon heir was out for anyone from the Reach. The same could be said about the Dornish snake, who had a female heir and Tarly was certainly not going to accept anything from that scorched desert.
She could imagine the succession crisis that would pop out, not to mention the unrest it would cause in both kingdoms.
The Vale's heir was of royal blood despite his birth status, but he was already engaged to a Royce. The crown prince was tied to the Dragon heiress and the North was too far and brought little immediate benefit.
Willas was Tarly's best option at being tied with a Great House that didn't see House Tarly paying too heavy a price in the process. It helped that the King seemed oddly optimistic about such a marriage, if anything she reckoned that was likely what convinced the old hawk to accept the proposal.
"At least Willas's marriage would be happier than yours." That silenced whatever Mace was going to say next. He looked pained at that reminder. "Oh get over yourself child, who told you to bring that whore to your marriage bed of all things. You could have at least have the decency to fuck the whore somewhere discreet."
The man had the sense to look ashamed at that.
Ever since Margaery and Janna had been sent to Firmridge, the relationship between Alerie and Mace had turned tense. Sure, it had mended after Erlend permitted Alerie to visit whenever she could.
Unfortunately, Mace had to make a mess of it by bringing his mistress onto their marriage bed, and by the seven was that a surprise to her.
She knew her son wasn't a complete Oaf, at least not all the time, otherwise their lands and status as Lord Paramounts would have been in jeopardy. It must be the Tyrell blood in him, and naturally her own brilliance somehow passing on to him.
Then again to be able to hide a mistress of all things from her, certainly came as a shock. It caused quite a scandal and had undone whatever mending their relationship had been going through.
His words just now hammered in the broken nature of their marriage. Reminding her of the last few years of her own.
"I assume I won't be getting another grandchild from you then."
"MOTHER!"
…
(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)
Erlend watched on as his Grandmaester excitedly spouted off new information coming from the Citadel. The well-traveled Maester nearly gushing about all the improvements that had been introduced to their organisation.
Getting the so-called 'mage' as his Grandmaester hadn't been particularly hard, Leyton had been quite excited to get the man out citadel before he could cause any more accidents with his experiments. Accidents that tended to prove costly to repair.
It was a shame the Hightower had rejected the position of Lord Paramount, Erlend trusted him far more than he did the fat oaf and his grasping mother. His House's reputation had been somewhat tainted by Dance and therefore was leery of looking overly ambitious to the rest of the Realm.
There was a bit of protest against Marwyn's appointment from the more conservative elements, but when the 'Protector of the Citadel' and the Sovereign of the continent both insisted on it, there wasn't much that could be done.
The title of Grandmaester wasn't the only thing he kept from the old regime, having decided to form his own small council, both named and modeled after its predecessor.
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[Small Council]
Hand of the King - Yohn Royce
Grandmaester - Marwyn the Mage
Master of Laws - Eldon Estermont
Master of Coin - Wyman Manderly
Master of Provisions - Horton Redfort
Master of Whisperers - Ellar Feld
Grand Admiral (Master of Ships) - Monford Velaryon
Lord Marshal (Master of War) - Lorimas Mudd
Lord Commander of the Royal Guard - Raymond Feld
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Many of the small council served as their predecessors had. Though there were some changes made, the Master of Whisperers for one is only known to the King. Added was the clause that no noble scion could be granted that role for the sole fact that their loyalties could be divided between their own family's interests and the king's interest.
Master of Ships still largely retained their position and duties with only a name change. The Lord Marshal was their equivalent on the ground, being able to command and direct Banner-Generals and Lieutenant Generals in times of war.
They would be in charge of making sure the Banner was properly maintained in times of peace. However, Erlend and his successors would still retain actual control over the Banners, the role of Captain-General assmilating with his title as Lord Protector.
The Lord Commander of the Royal Guard served just as his Kingsguard equivalent had done, though obviously since he had control over a much larger force, his duties were far more complex.
There was also the fact that Erlend had woven several runes and enchantments that gradually built up loyalty to the current 'King/Queen', more precisely that 'King/Queen' had to be of his bloodline. While there was obviously many ways to get around it, that what was where the Potterverse magic really came in to play, allowing his enchantments to be more attuned to his needs and expanding upon the intial basic premise.
Finally, the newest role would be the Master of Provisions, their duty was to ensure the maintenance of the roads, towns, and fortresses. They worked in tandem with the other Masters to ensure the security of the Kingdoms, especially from banditry and raiding.
It was by far the vaguest of roles, and that was done on purpose as Erlend intended for them to work closely with the Hand. More often than not, they had a good chance of becoming Hand, after the previous ones either died or retired.
The small council meetings were held in a specially constructed chamber, surrounded by members of the Royal Guard at all times, keeping distractions out of the area.
…
Lorimas sent an annoyed look towards the excited Marwyn, not understanding what he seemed all that worked up about.
"They're just bloody numbers." He said.
"You don't understand Lord Mudd, this is phenomenal, this could change everything we know." Marwyn did his best to explain.
"That's enough Marwyn. We have more important matters at hand." Yohn interrupted the mage before he could annoy his fellows any longer.
He was just glad that Pycelle was no longer alive, that doddering old fool wasn't the least bit trustworthy. In fact since the 'Burning' many suspected him of being a spy for Tywin, having been the one to convince the mad king to open the gates.
The spider for all his scheming was wise enough not to trust the vengeful lion.
Marwyn was a whole lot better and far more trustworthy as far as the rest of the council were concerned, though he tended to give them a headache every time he went on a tangent about some discovery or something.
"The Golden Company has been contracted to the Triarchy," Yohn announced.
"Yes, I heard that a woman calling herself Visenya is leading that particular band of mercenaries," Eldon added. "A Blackfyre perhaps?"
"There hasn't been a Blackfyre since Maely's seizure of the Stepstones."
"The male lines yes. The Female line not so." Marwyn stated..
"He has a point, for all we know a Blackfyre daughter must have produced her own line." Horton agreeing with Marwyn.
"How exactly was it that a woman was able to raise herself as Captain-General of the company?" Eldon asked.
"There was some opposition to her rise, mainly from that coward Strickland. Last I heard his body was in a ditch somewhere." Raymond spoke up for the first time.
"You're familiar with her I take it?"
Raising his hand, Erlend silenced the chambers, "A proud and arrogant woman, yet few were able to match her both in skill and battle. Her position is well-earned you can be sure of that." Erlend said.
"Your Majesty, surely we should be cautious of her. A Blackfyre is no small matter."
"She presents no threat to us. Her kin on the other hand are the one's you should truly be worried about."
"Kin? There are more?" Yohn looked worried.
Erlend nodded towards his hand before Lorimas spoke. "The dickless bald bastard was a Blackfyre pretender."
"Varys?" There were exclamations of shock by most of those present with only Feld looking unbothered by that tidbit, as one of Erlend closest confidants, he was aware of many things most knew little about.
The most disbelieving was Monford, who had served the mad king alongside Varys.
His appointment as Grand Admiral had been mostly political in nature, since Erlend had no other candidate who was either trustworthy or capable enough to head the Royal Fleet. That didn't mean the Admirals below didn't watch him clearly and report any movement on his part to Erlend.
It was a decision made mainly out of practicality and would tie the narrow lords close to him. It helped that Rhalla wholeheartedly backed Erlend, hence why House Velaryon and their fellow Crownlanders remained docile despite their intial resistance.
"Did he not perish during the 'Burning'?" Yohn looked surprised.
"Come on Yohn, do you believe someone like that would have no way to escape?" Lorimas rolled his eyes.
"It makes sense I suppose. The mad king only got worse once he arrived." Horton frowned, "What was his plan anyway?"
"Destabilise the Kingdoms as much as possible to make it easier for his nephew to invade." Erlend explained.
"There's another?"
"Yes, the son of his youngest sister, the last three Blackfyres."
"I'll tell you this, your Majesty. This spymaster of yours must be good for him to get all of this." Wyman jested. This earned a nervous chuckle from the rest of the lords present, who were somewhat leery of this unknown Master of Whisperers.
"Surely we should deal with this Visenya then, she seems to be the biggest threat at the moment," Eldon suggested.
"I disagree, Varys is the bigger threat. For all we know he might be somewhere in Westeros causing trouble." Yohn said.
"Like I said previously, Visenya is not a threat to us, so let her be. Varys is the true threat, despite still recuperating from the mess that was Kings Landing."
"Can't we send someone after him?"
Erlend shook his head, "He never stays in one place too long, making it difficult to get his precise whereabouts."
"What about this nephew of his?" Lorimas asked.
"His father is keeping him even better hidden than Varys."
"The father is still alive then?"
"Yes, you may know him better as a Magister of Pentos. The Cheesemonger to be more precise."
A look of disgust came over Lorimas's face at that reveal, clearly recalling the times he met the man. "We should've killed that bastard when we had the chance."
"So we can't do anything about them at the moment…" Eldon said.
"Aye, we should focus on the Tourney. The Blackfyres can't pose too much of a threat anyways. There's no Iron Throne left for them to claim, they're standing on shaky ground if they want to take the realm." Lorimas responded.
"The Triarchy should keep them busy for the time being. They have been showing a lot of interest in Pentos lately." Horton said.
Looking towards his Masters of Coin and Provisions "How's preparation for the Tourney going?" Erlend enquired.
"As well as it could be your Majesty. Making sure everything is in place is proving quite troublesome." Wyman answered.
"There's also the matter of relocating and helping the displaced smallfolk. It's diverting resources from the Tourney. That's the main reason why it's taking longer than expected." Eldon continued.
"50,000 Golden Crowns have been set aside for the joust winner. 30,000 for the Melee Champion and 15,000 for the Archery contest as specified."
"The Tourney grounds are already near completion, we should be done soon enough."
"That's fine, as long as the Tourney does well, I care not for how much resources we use. This has to go well, it will be the first major tourney the realm has seen since Harrenhal." Erlend said. "As for the displaced Smallfolk, continue as before. We can't just let them be left to their own devices, otherwise they might become desperate and resort to banditry."
"Of course your Majesty." They replied simultaneously.
"The Invitations have all been sent I take it?"
"Yes your Majesty, all the Great Houses and members of the Major Houses have been sent invitations and the heralds have also spread the word throughout the realm."
"It wouldn't do to unintentionally insult any of them," Eldon said.
"Them prickly lot need to grow some balls and take it like real men," Lorimas grumbled.
Ignoring his friend's antics, "Will you be competing your Majesty?" Yohn asked.
"As the host, it would be rude of me to do so, Seven knows they'll protest it heavily if I try," Erlend answered.
"Only a fool would choose to do so openly," Raymond said, getting murmurs of agreement from the rest of the council.
It was necessary to hold a tourney, as it played an important role in Westerosi culture and hopefully would convey the strength of the Crown to the rest of the Realm. The Tourney was also meant to show off Firmridge's development and the wealth his House boasted.
With that over with, Erlend motioned for Yohn to move on to the next topic.
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Note: Initially, I was gonna do a similar reaction to Ch67, but that would just be repeating the same thoughts the Lannisters already gave. Instead, I decided to dive into the current situation in the Reach and see how the Tyrells were doing. The Reach isn't completely reliant on the North, while they do make a significant chunk of the sales, they can be replaced, there will always be a high demand for food after all, it would just be more troublesome to change things.