1st Moon, 116AD
"I think it all worked for the better, your grace." Ryon Darry chuckled some, hands resting on his middle. In truth, I couldn't help but think of a jolly fat man whenever the man laughed. The image just sort of came to me. "King Torrhen has agreed to the majority of the trade agreements and if I do say so myself, he'll surely accept to give us permission to prospect the northern mountains."
So, it was within my solar that me, Willem Darklyn, Samwell Mooton and Lyam Mallister learned that we had a prophet on our hands in Ryon Darry. I suppose having someone who could see the future was bound to be useful at some point.
"Now it's all left to that young Kevan Paege to not cock it all up." Kevan was more competent than you, but I'll let that slide. "Shouldn't be too difficult, my charm and wit did most of the work, so he won't have much to do."
Really, I have been sitting here for the past hour listening to you kiss your own arse for what was starting to seem like eternity. At the very least, try to give some credit to some of the people that had been with you.
"But I'm glad to be back though, your grace. The north is a savage land, barren, but I persevered and did what was asked of me by your royal self." At the moment, I was living vicariously through Willem, after all, he was the only one that could do the sort of expressions that I wanted to do without seeming like a dick and insulting the poor man and right now, Willem made me proud by rolling his eyes as the man continued inflating his ego. "Truly I worked wonders with the cold and taciturn King in the north. He'll surely agree to all our demands!"
I was more than willing to thank every god on Planetos when Ryon Darry finally decided to leave me to my peace. None of us dared to speak, even when the door slammed shut quietly behind the lord's wake.
Well, until Willem that is. "Lovely man. Has quite the charming personality. The sort of man people would like to drive a dagger into the back off."
I was a king and thus had to have some sort of dignity and thus held back a snort of amusement. "In the back? Please, I'd drive it whilst staring right into his eyes."
"Perhaps you'll be more pleased to stab him in the back when his heir comes of age." Lord Mooton spoke up, having being quietly going through the final letters of our trade agreement that Lord Darry had brought with him from the north. "Some might say there is nothing worse in the world than boy lords."
I don't think my goodfather knew that he might as well be describing more than half of the lordlings of the Riverlands or any other lordling from all across Westeros. Some of them seemed to act like nothing more than overgrown boys that never got past that moment in childhood.
"Well?" I asked, indicating towards the sheafs of paper he held in his hands.
My goodfather was quiet for a moment as he flicked over another page of paper before nodding his head. "I would need to have a better look into it with some of my secretaries and the Grand Maester might be of use as well, but I think everything is quite in order."
I leaned into the back of my chair and released a sigh. "Good."
It felt as if the weight of the world was lifted of my shoulders. At first, they had been caught off guard with the report from Kevan, apologetic as it was, reporting that he had all but given their hand away before the start of negotiations.
I suspect the brothers Stark, even if one of them was a Snow, had played good cop/bad cop on poor Kevan with the way he recalled what had happened in the first meeting and he had crumbled to the routine. I couldn't really blame him, Kevan was more of an administrator than a warrior and doubly, it wouldn't surprise me if they intimidated him some.
What a strange way to go about with negotiations, the northerners had and it sort of left us in a position of weakness, despite this, my opposite in the north didn't lean on this and was quite amiable throughout the whole thing, asking for concessions here and there, whilst putting up a fight on this subject and another.
Unfortunately, he wasn't so willing to include ironwood into the mix, well for now, anyway. It was still early days. There was still time for the north-Trident relationship to grow, so I instructed Lyam to have Kevan continue to make friends in the north and petition King Torrhen for the right of the Trident to have access to their vast stock of ironwood.
Something he was eager about, by the looks of things. "It's said ironwood is the Valyrian steel of woods. Lighter than other woods, yet stronger as well. Think of the ships we could build with something like that." He said wistfully before he had left to have a raven sent for the north.
"There's something that should also come to your attention, your grace." My goodfather said when he rose to his feet. "The shipment you asked me to notify you off has arrived in the Maidenpool ports."
I smiled and nodded my head. "Thank you." I honestly replied as my goodfather left to go about and do his job, leaving me and Willem alone in my solar.
"Is there anything you require off me, your grace or will that be all for the day?" Willem asked.
"Why so eager to leave Willie?" I saw the twitch of the eyebrow and I enjoyed myself at the young man's suffering. He was nearly a man grown, but gods be good, I was going to enjoy this for all it's worth. There was a reason Alys was my favourite. "I thought me and you had come to be the best of friends over the years."
The heir to Duskendale shifted on his feet some. "As good as any, your grace. You have been kind to both me and my sister. We have learned much during our time here in Riverrun."
"I'm sure you have." I don't think getting one's ass periodically kicked by Ser Garrett involved much learning in truth. "Remind me again, Duskendale is across Pentos, is it not?"
"I wouldn't say across, your grace," a beat passed. "There happens to be some water between the two cities."
"Yes, some, not a lot though, right?"
"Just enough to fill a sea."
I see over the years, Willie had come to be comfortable with my presence enough that he was now throwing snark at me the first chance he got. Was this the teenage rebellion phase? Well, it wouldn't be very kingly of me to take this abuse.
"I think you shall be spending some more time with Ser Garrett for the nonce." I enjoyed the slight dropping of his face, but he held himself well. I continued to smirk as I brought back the conversation to talk about Pentos. "So, Pentos?"
He nodded as he talked about the city. "If you brought up a map, it's not directly across Duskendale, just being some ways south. I think that castle that's being built on the mouth of the Blackwater is a more accurate position to say directly across."
"But one might say they are directly across, yes?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose, it would be wrong, but one can say that. Why?"
"Well, the Pentosi grow cotton in the flatlands they control. And according to Lord Mooton, we have just received a shipment of cotton seeds."
Willem was a bright boy and he didn't disappoint me when I saw the light in his eyes. "You plan on planting those seeds?"
"Yes." I confirmed for him. "Cotton isn't native to Westeros, so we have to import it in from across the narrow sea. Problem is, it's quite expensive to do that, so I figure, why not introduce it here? If it works out well enough, the cotton gin might actually be of use."
Willem cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Cotton...gin?"
Oh right, because the cotton gin had been something of an embarrassment at the time when it came to me realising I didn't have enough cotton to make it somewhat relevant, I didn't bother introducing it like the seed drill. So, no doubt that he had no idea what it was.
I waved his confusion off. "Since it might probably turn up in the southern lands, you might eventually come to see one."
Willem nodded his head slowly but unsurely. "As you say, your grace."
I was taking a risk here. There was probably a reason why cotton wasn't a native plant to Westeros and I was hoping it was because it had never come to develop on the continent and not on something more along the lines that the continent was inhospitable to the plant.
I could remember some things that I think could be attributed to cotton. One of those vague probably not facts was that it was a subtropical plant, I think and something about latitudes. Pentos had its own plantations to grow cotton and it was sort of across Duskendale, so that meant they shared the same latitude and thus probably had a subtropical climate if Planetos was remotely earth-like, right?
This was all guesswork and I really hoped this guesswork would come through for me. I really should have paid more attention when it came to Geography back home.
I was also hoping that the introduction of the plant to our little kingdom would be enough to tempt some lords to switch to growing cotton when they realise how lucrative the plant is. The seed drill had worked out a little too well when it came to the whole helping the farmers out a little.
I had definitely not seen that happening and the lordlings coming to me to complain about it was becoming rather annoying, if somewhat worrying. The last thing I want is for them to start throwing the smallfolk off their farms.
We really didn't need an exodus to the towns here, though I don't think their grasp of economics was solid enough to try anything remotely similar to enclosure. I hope.
"That will be all for now, Willem." I told my assistant. I supposed when he turned sixteen, I might have to send him back home. "You can have the rest of the day off."
Willem clasped his heels together and bowed. "Thank you, your grace."
You know what? I think I had done quite a good job in raising myself a half decent lordling. So, point one to me.
***
4th Moon, 116AD
I was greeted with a rather familiar face as I reached my solar. A weathered man who had seemly become more weathered over the years, dressed in cloth-of-silver vestments and crystal coronals. I smiled as I hid back the wariness I felt at seeing his presence.
"Most Devout." I inclined my head in a polite manner to the man of the Faith. "What a pleasure to see you here."
The Most Devout chuckled as he was helped remain standing by a firm, white oak cane. "Please your grace, the pleasure is all mine." I half-heartedly ignored the presence of a knight of the Warrior's Sons standing in the Most Devout's shadow, but gave him a polite acknowledgement of his presence, one he returned.
I wasn't at all pleased with the knowledge that the Most Devout felt he had to walk with an armed guard in Riverrun. I mean, surely, he had to know that this could very well be construed as an insult by the multitude of lordlings that had come to Riverrun for the Fair?
I was positive that the Most Devout wasn't as politically inept as he tried to play himself. I'm sure he didn't rise to become Most Devout by being politically inept. Or maybe he had a patron. That was possible.
Or maybe he was just going senile. That was possible. The man was coming along in the age department.
"You have come a long way from the young man I met so long ago." The man of the gods said as he was led into my solar. He spared an elderly chuckle. "Your fields are full to bursting, there's more food that the smallfolk know not what to do with it all! Gods child, you have done well. The gods surely chose the right man to lead the Riverlands into prosperity."
Well, my fields happened to be filled a little too much for my liking and that was being worked at. Lords were complaining to me about how the price of grain was sinking quicker than the Titanic. I mean, it was still nice what he said, but he was certainly missing some of the more underlying issues that had been plaguing the start of my reign.
"The gods have merely been kind to me, that is all." I replied, giving the empty platitude with as much honesty I could muster.
The gods were cunts and more than likely eldritch abominations just waiting to break into this world, drive you mad or eat your soul, or more than likely both. And to make it even better, shit was going to hit a whole new kind of bullshit in three hundred or so years, if I'm lucky.
It was bad enough dealing with the threat of ice demons and their army of 28 Days Later zombies, but in this new and very un-united (ha!) Westeros? Might as well bend over and kiss your ass good bye.
Most Devout Willis gave me the genial smile again. I found myself wondering whether anyone fell for the whole grandfather thing he had going on for him. "The gods bless those they find worthy. They have certainly found you worthy."
I'd hope they had found me more than worthy. Or maybe not worthy. I don't think I would appreciate the attention given to me by forces unknown to men.
Until proven otherwise, I had decided to go the route that every god, every supernatural force was real. The Seven in canon might have the least amount of manifestations of their power compared to the old gods, R'hllor, but they could still very much be real.
Hell, for all I know, they could be ridiculously powerful eldritch abominations barred from interacting with the mortals of Planetos for one reason or another. I know my fantasy as much as the next guy and I know gods being barred from the mortal plane was very much possible.
"It pleases me for you to say that, your excellency. I hope you'll enjoy the forth coming festivities as much as I will."
"Oh, I definitely think I will," He chuckled some, old bones more than likely creaking from all that moving. "I don't think anything like that has ever been held in Westeros at all. Great tourneys? Of course, but something of this manner? How did you come up with it, I must ask."
"It just came to me whilst I was thinking about life in general." I had other reasons for holding this fair, but the political side of it will turn up after the fun and festivities. "I figured it would be an excellent place for all my vassals to come and mingle."
That head that was probably thinking of ways to drain me of my money bobbed its head up and down all innocently. Like he was innocent. "Good, good. A king must always keep up to date with his vassals. The bonds of fealty become much stronger as he does so."
Thank you, I'm pretty sure I just did not say that.
"But, I come here not to just enjoy your coming fair, your grace, but also of matters of state and Faith." Really? It's not like that was obvious at all, but please, do continue. "These are troubled times your grace. The Faith knows that during the reign of the Hoares, no anointed septon or septa set foot in your lands. Any who were found, quickly found themselves sacrificed to the heathen god of the ironborn."
That sounded about right with the recent history that I had come to learn. During the age of the Hoares, it wasn't so good to be going around wearing a seven-pointed star round your neck, but where was the old man going with this?
Also, I'd have liked to point out to the man that the heathen god was more probably real than the Seven. For all we knew, the Drowned God might be a ridiculously over-sized kraken of some kind. Cos krakens were an actual thing.
Like this place didn't suck any more than it already did.
"It's good that the men and women of the Faith can return and tend to this lost flock, your excellency." I replied with a smile.
"And the Faith thanks you for all that you have done, truly we do. The donation of the Seven-Pointed Star, the gifting of lands for us to build septries and motherhouses."
From what little I could understand about churches holding lands during the middle ages, it was that most rulers found them to be leeches of a kind that drained them of valuable taxes. I was slowly coming to that line of thinking, but I always reminded myself that at least, doing it this way gave me people who would be able to teach impart their knowledge, mostly reading, writing and basic numeracy, to anyone who was willing in the land.
That was the deal that I had come to negotiate with Willis.
Actually, it was less a deal and more simply suggesting a course of action that would be most profitable for everyone for all those books I gave him and his somewhat useful leeches, cos gods forbid, you don't negotiate with the Faith when your kingdom's survival is dependent on them, for now anyway.
Most Devout Willis paused for a moment in pensive thought. "Alas, there is some matters of concern."
I did everything in my power to not sigh. I should have seen this coming. There had to be a reason as to why he was here. He had been content enough to stay well enough away from me in Stoney Sept, but I suppose that had to come to an end.
"Please, tell me what ails you so I can do my utmost to help." I swear, I deserve an Oscar with all this mummery.
"It is just, some of your lords are less willing to impart lands for places of worship to be built." I blinked in surprise. Who would be stupid enough to do that? Why would they do that? Most Devout Willis continued speaking, ignorant of the questions going through my head. "Then we have found some troubling...behaviour among some of the smallfolk and even among the lords as well. Of course, we understand this to be natural after being left so long without shepherds to guide you correctly, but many have proven to be resistant to our teachings."
I needed to look into this first chance I get. It might all fun and games to go DEUS VEULT on the Internet, but not when it actually involved real people with real lives. And religious warfare tended to bring out the worst of humanity.
"How can I help?" And this time, I was actually sincere with my words.
The Most Devout smiled sagely. "It is still early days, your grace, there is nothing that we can't do that would require your overt influence. There is still much that we can, but it could help if you could decree that lords allow us to build septries and motherhouses in the more recalcitrant fiefs."
Ooh, now why did it have to be that kind of help? I don't particularly like telling the riverlords what to do even though part of my job involved telling them what to do. In truth, I haven't actually demanded much of them at the moment, apart from the whole scutage thing.
The same could also be said about the city charters, but they needed that more than me...okay, that was a lie, but that was how I sold it and they bought the argument that I was largely doing them a favour by giving them said charters. Even if they didn't like some of the finer blueprints involved in the charters.
"I was under the impression that the Faith could build their holy places in agreement with the respective lords of those fiefs." As it turns out, the Blackwoods aren't the only old gods worshippers.
It wasn't really that surprising. What was surprising was that not all of them were bannermen of the Blackwoods. There happened to be a bunch of old gods worshippers scattered all over the Riverlands, with a noticeable concentration around the God's Eye.
Considering the history of the God's Eye, that really shouldn't have come as a surprise.
"True," the old man nodded along. "But a little word here and there can never hurt, surely?"
I was of the mind that Thomas Becket could very well disagree with that.
"I will see what I can do." Which is code for not much, but I doubt you will understand that.
Willis smiled some and I noticed that he had some fine teeth for a man as old as he is and in a place where dental hygiene was surprisingly advanced. "I knew that you are a man truly worthy of the Faith, your grace."
***
A soft hand came to rest on top of my fist. "If you tense so much, some among your lords will bound to notice." Zhoe whispered softly to me, across the dim of music, wine and merriment. "Isn't this supposed to be a merry affair?"
"I'm not tense." I argued back.
Her brown eyes glided down to the ball that my hand was making. "You've been holding a fist for a while now."
I blinked and looked down at my fist that quickly unclenched to become something a little more normal. "Huh, didn't even notice that. My apologies, I just have a lot on my mind." I replied as softly as I can amongst the surrounding sounds. "I'll try to be a little bit happier."
She glanced at me, her other hand resting on her showing growth in her middle. "Good. Though you shall have to tell me of your troubles at a more private time. I would be a poor wife if I couldn't help with my husband's woes."
You know what? I don't think I made a bad choice at all when it came to a wife, her wealth being notwithstanding. It could very much have been worse.
Zhoe did have a point though, I should be a bit more joyous, this was the start of the Fair, a grand feast to be sure. The Great Hall of Riverrun was filled to besting with all of the who's who of the Riverlands in attendance, drinking and singing and talking amongst themselves.
There were even more lordlings and their parties in the hundreds of grand pavilions that had been set up in the surrounding fields for the other lords who happened to not be important enough to get a seat inside the Great Hall itself. I planned to make the rounds among those lesser lordlings at some point, I mean, it wouldn't hurt to somewhat pretend I cared about them now would it?
"Nephew, I can't help but say you have out done yourself with this event." My uncle, Lord Forrest remarked as he held up a mug of black beer. The Mallisters being the only family that I had left of blood relations were seated to the left of me, whilst my wife's family were seated to the right in the place of honour on the raised dais. "All the chilvary of the Riverlands must be here! Nicely done indeed!"
I smiled graciously at my uncle. "Please uncle, all the thanks should go to my lovely queen, she is the one that had organised all of this." I wasn't even lying. Organising parties was something I had failed drastically with back in my old life.
And it seemed that skill had come with me into my new one. Thankfully, Zhoe knew how to hold a party and thus, I had left her in charge of all that nonsense.
Hell, she had even been the one to sort out the schedule of the coming days, from the horse racing, to the tourneys to everything else. She had a gift for this.
Lord Mallister gave an acknowledging nod to my Mooton queen. "Then I shall do so and say you have splendidly out done yourself, your grace."
"Outdone?" She smiled somewhat at the statement. "My lord, I have yet begun."
The dais broke out in laughter, Lyam chuckling quietly to himself. "Then I can't fathom help but wait in anticipation for when you do."
His wife, Ellyn Mallister smiled beside him. "Oh husband, your mind shall be amazed, truly."
"Lady Ellyn, I'm disappointed that your mother couldn't join us this evening. She would have made pleasant company." I said to my goodcousin.
She smiled daintily. "I fear that she is making sure that many of the horse farms are up to standard. She intends to make sure that us Bracken's live to our reputation as premier horse breeders and that only the highest standard of horses are available to the king."
I smiled. "She is too kind."
The Brackens had a rep for being really good with breeding horses. Kinda like the Dustins of the Riverlands. So it was something of a none brainer of me to give them a charter and eventually, a subsidy to churn out as many horses of high quality as possible. Ranging from draft horses and eventually, all the way to warhorses.
"No, she is just merely thorough. In fact, she aims to acquire a Dornish sand horse in the future." Ellyn said. "It's said to be the swiftest of all the horses in Westeros and perhaps the world. It will be some time before House Bracken has anything to offer the Crown, but my mother will not disappoint."
After that, I let my eyes roam across the great hall, giving nods of acknowledgement every single time I made eye contact with lords, from the long-suffering Myles Darry next to his brother Ryon Darry who was busy stuffing his mouth fool of anything he could get his hands on, and by the looks of it, it included the serving wenches as well.
Ah, it was amazing how much I had come to be desensitized to casual sexism like that. Hopefully, everything would stay above board, even though the dark voice inside my head snorted at such a thought. I was in Westeros and over the week, a countless bastards are bound to be concepted.
Ser Franklin raised a glass in my direction and I raised my own to him, Lord Jason was busy armwrestling Lord Marq Vance of Wayfarer's Rest to notice me, I passed Pipers, Rootes, Buckwells, Thornes, Stokeworths and every other lord of note. It was a surprise that we had been able to fit everyone into this place.
And everyone seemed to be getting along well enough.
Well, everyone seemed to be having fun until my eyes came to rest on Lord Wyl Blackwood. Surprisingly, he didn't have the sour expression I had come to recognise him with as he talked with some lordlings that were seated beside him, in fact, some had seemingly dragged their chairs to sit around him.
I was genuinely curious about what kind of conversation he would be having that would entice so many men to someone I thought was rather, sour in personality. I mean, the guy had certainly made an expression on me all so many years ago.
"I wonder what they are talking about."
"Hm, who?" Zhoe asked, and to my surprise, it seemed I have mused out loud my thoughts. She followed my sight and it came to rest on the gathering of lords. "Hm nothing strange no doubt. It's a rare time as any for many of the Houses that worship the old gods to be in one place at the same time. Perhaps they talk of making a faction of some sort to advance their own course in court." She finished with a laugh.
I nearly choked on my drink. I did not need religious factions setting up shop! No! No way! That road led to nothing but trouble!
Lyam chimed in. "It wouldn't be surprising really. Some say the happened during the time of the Teagues and the Justmans. They are probably banding together to counteract the influence of the Faith before it takes too much of a hold in the kingdom. The memories of Humfrey Teague must still be recent in many of their minds."
"I'm sure that was centuries ago." I said, aghast as I began to figure out which lords where probably resisting the encroachment of the Faith. I didn't blame them to be honest for reacting the way they were doing. The Faith was trying to bring back a system of worship back to the Riverlands.
And they probably didn't like the old gods judging by the fact that the north was always referred to as a home of savages, godless men or heathens.
Also, I was quite surprised that they would blatantly conspire so openly, but then again, I suppose the best place to hide is in plain sight? I think that was how that particular saying went.
Lord Mooton smiled some as he spoke. "There is a common saying that is said to be of the northmen, 'the north remembers.' The very same could be said of us riverlanders. You said so yourself, your grace, five years back, in that tent in the shadow of Harrenhal, us riverlords are our own west enemies, do you remember?"
The memories were hazy but I do remember saying something like that. I nodded my head with the air of a defeated man. "I really hope nothing stupid happens."
"Lord Blackwood is many things," Ellyn said, her voice icy as she glared in the direction of the Lord of Raventree Hall. "But a fool he is not."
I would think for playing with the whole Bracken-Blackwood feud after so long was rather foolish, but I don't think she wanted to hear me say that. Lyam rather liked her, so did Zhoe and I really didn't want to piss anyone off.
I was trying to be a good guy here.
To be honest, I was wondering when the intrigue and all that bullshit was going to start. At the very least, I had already noted one faction down, a faction that I was going to need to get as much information as I could about their potential goals.
I leaned in towards Zhoe slightly and whispered. "Do you think you would be able to remember those lords for me? I fear at some point, my lords are going to ply me with too much drink for me to remember the night correctly."
She blinked at me but nodded nonetheless. "Of course, my king."
Also, I needed to co-op some of those bards and mummers I have been sending round the Riverlands into something of a spy service. Actually, I should check with the heads of my burdgeoning silver service as well. I'm sure they would be able to insert people into positions that would allow them to learn quite a few things.
It was the least the Scribes could do for me, I had given them a livelihood and one more prestigious than the last one they had.
I gave her a quick peck on the cheek, much to the amusement, hooting and whistles to the lords who had seen that particular action. I changed the subject to something that had been rather recent. "Aegon has declared the Freehold once more."
"It's not the Valyrian Freehold of old though is it? Last time I checked, they had hundreds upon hundreds of dragons. The Targaryens only have three." Ellyn mused with good humour.
Zhoe was delighted as she spoke next. "But there's something romantic about their whole endeavour isn't it? Outcasts of a long ancient civilisation coming back to rebuild it."
Lord Mallister snorted. "A bit arrogant, I say. What are they calling it? The Targaryen Freehold?"
"I suspect they are calling it a Freehold when in truth, it's an empire in all but name, to harken back to the times of the actual Freehold. Perhaps to hold some sort of legitimacy over the Free Cities." I pondered. I mean, it wasn't a bad enough move.
Calling it the Freehold come once again would be sort of like the mostly German kingdoms banding together to call themselves the Holy Roman Empire, the successor to the Western Roman Empire when in truth, the actual successor state of Rome would have been the Byzantine Empire.
But hey, who was I to judge with my barely passable knowledge of middle ages history and politics?
Ellyn Mallister pursed her lips in thought. "But was the Freehold not governed by a senate of landholders? I sincerely doubt after going through so much to bring the former daughters of Valyrian to heel, they would just handover power like that."
"Probably a constitutional monarchy of some sort?" I said with a shrug and by the looks I was getting they more than likely did not have an idea what I was talking about. "Well, it doesn't really matter really, what matters is that they have dragons. Enough of them and people are going to be jumping when they say jump."
If they last that long. Aegon was inept and I was honestly sad to not going to be around long enough to see what kind of mess he makes of his new...Freehold, like the sort of mess he made with Westeros when canon still meant something.
Lord Mallister took a large swill of his drink. "Bah, dragons! The Essosi have always been a bunch of chinless cunts, if this Aegon boy had tried to conquer Westeros, he would have found himself and his whores and dragons and all falling to true Westerosi steel."
He says that, but I'm sure in canon he had quickly followed suit to bowing down to Aegon, but then again, Aegon had just baked Harren alive, so there was that.
"As you say, my lord." I said, reaching for my own mug of beverage.
It was nice to talk about Aegon fucking things up in Essos. It sort of made me try to forget about the coming cluster fuck that was surely coming my way and I could already see the barrels of powder set ready to explode.
It was all a question of trying to find what the fuse is going to be and see if I can defuse it before it all blows up in our faces, particularly mine.
But who was I kidding, this was Westeros. If shit was going to go bad, it was going to go bad as bad as it could.