The Princess of the Storm
She found her father awaiting her within his solar, a massive sausage of a finger running itself down the length of ledger, the hearth fire smouldering lightly at the side, giving warmth to the room. Seeing him behind a desk, looking every inch a king should, Argella mused that to most who have heard of her lord father, they would think of nothing more than a brute of a man.
It would not be a lie. Her lord father was something of a brute, he had the build of it after all, coupled that with the pride some would find aggravating to the senses, it did not taking much thinking on her part to understand why people thought Argilac arrogant.
But it was that pride and arrogance that drove him to be a beloved ruler of the Kingdom of the Storm. Her lord father spared himself nothing when it came to his duties as king, no matter how tedious he found some of his duties to be.
"Ah, you are here." Her lord father spoke, his voice like rumbling thunder, even as quietly as he had spoke right then and there. "How was your rest, my child?"
She curtsied to her lord father in greeting. "Better than that of the last few days. I don't think camping on the field agrees with me in truth."
Argilac snorted in amusement. "I would have got you a carriage, but no, you wanted to ride a horse and in armour as well. It seems I have pampered you far too much in truth."
She smiled at that. "And you wouldn't have it any other way." In truth, she supposed that sometimes, her king and father wished that she had been born a boy, a suitable heir for him. In truth, it amazed her that he never remarried after the death of her mother when she was still a young babe. "I happened to come across Ser Olyvar Buckler on my way here."
"Ah yes, Bryce's boy." Her father snorted once more. "Bit of a soft one, I think, but a good enough lad. What of it? Has he taken your fancy as of late?" There was a certain glimmer in her father's blue eyes, amusement more like.
She raised a dark eyebrow as she made her way to her father's desk and took the seat opposite of him. "And what of it father? The Bucklers are a noble and storied House. Such a marriage wouldn't be so bad for the kingdom."
"No, not it wouldn't." He shook his head. "But I think it's still too early for any talks of marriage for you yet. It's all about finding the right man. The right House. I won't be selling you off to some lordling that will treat you wrong. I made a promise to your mother and I intend to keep that promise."
As grateful as she was that her lord father wanted to make sure that she was well taken care off in whatever marriage that she found herself in, his procrastination in choosing a husband, let alone in naming a suitable hair to the Storm Throne was nothing more than destabilizing for the kingdom in general.
"Am I to rule as queen by myself then? With no king?" She asked, trying to keep to her patience.
"Oh, you'll have a king alright." Argilac replied, his eyes moving back down to the papers below. "Just a king that knows that House Durrandon is the royal house of the Stormlands."
She slumped back into her seat. "You intend to make me queen? To rule by my own right?" She asked, surprised. "That's never been done before. Only the Dornish could allow for such a thing."
To her knowledge, there has never been a single queen that has ruled in her own right in any of the Seven Kingdoms apart from the Dornish. Argella knew of Sharra Arryn, Queen of the Mountains and Vale, but she was well aware that her power to rule rested from the fact that she had given birth to the too young to rule King Ronnel Arryn.
When Ronnel Arryn came of age, whatever power that Sharra Arryn held over that kingdom would be lost, although as the mother of the king, she would still hold significant influence over the king and thus that particular kingdom.
In other words, Sharra had something that Argella did not have, a male heir to the throne.
"The Stormlords are loyal, they'll follow whatever will I have set when my time has come."
Her father seemed to truly believe in that statement, something that made her heart drop. Her father knew the stormlords, just as much as she did, but even she knew that for many of them, especially the proud Marcher Lords, following a woman would be something of a difficult proposition for many of them.
It wasn't as if she could follow the traditions of many of the Storm Kings of the past and lead her bannermen into combat. She was a woman, and knew what the world demanded of her, even if her father had worked to make her more palatable to his lords.
"There is always our cousins the Bollings and Wensingtons." She suggested. "Surely I could wed one of them, whilst my husband adopting the Durrandon name."
Her father brusquely waved away the suggestion. "Once upon a time, they wielded quite the influence, but at most nowadays, they are of middling influence and importance. Actually, when was the last time we intermarried?"
"Four generations ago." She replied quickly from the top of her head. Learning the history of her family had been a required lesson taught by the maesters. She then frowned. "Although it was a somewhat distant cousin of the main ruling family."
"My point has been made." Her father changed the subject to something that had happened recently. "What did you think of the Boy King?"
She blinked. The boy king? Oh, did he mean Edmyn Tully? "You wish to marry me to Edmyn Tully?"
"Oh by the gods no." Her father said with a laugh, shaking his head and the room as well with his laughter. "The Stormlands deserve better than that. You deserve better than that."
Argella couldn't help raise an eyebrow at the thought of her deserving better than some a self-made king, from a rather notable House as well. "He defeated Harren the Black. A man you were afraid of father. I would think he would have proven himself worthy in your eyes." She said, amidst his loud laughter.
Her father stopped laughing immediately and levelled a gaze in her direction. "I am afraid of no man."
She had seen that gaze before. She had seen her father level that gaze on many a lords and vassals, powerful enough to drive them to remove themselves from his presence if they displeased him. Unfortunately for her father, she had been around it long enough to garner an immunity.
And sometimes, her father forgot, she was of the storm as well.
"You were afraid of him father." She said once more and saw the twitch of her father's eyebrow. She continued onwards. "That's the reason why you took your host to fight in the east. You hoped to garner allies amongst the Free Cities, allies that would help you in defeating Harren and his ironborn when it came to it."
They continued to stare into the other's eyes, father and daughter, each unrelenting in their gaze. Eventually her father broke off as he grumbled and rose up from his seat and moved to the decanter at the side and poured himself a glass of wine and another for her.
"I swear, I should watch what I say in your presence." He said as he rounded about to her and gently held out the glass of wine for her, which she rose to take. "I wasn't afraid of Harren, child. It's the right of a king to be worried for his lands when he has nothing but a river and some hills separating his kingdom from the likes of the ironborn. Yes, I went to Essos to fight for Myrish, the Lysenes and Tyroshi in hopes of them becoming allies. In truth, they have more ships than we do, ships that could also be off hand in keeping the ironborns strength at sea at bay. I also sounded out many of the 'Free Companies' or so they are called, potential allies among many of them and to give many of my men combat experience, the Seven know that to fight someone like the ironborn, it's better to have a man beside you who had fought in a battle before than not."
"So you were scared of him then." Her father cast her an impudent look, one she just smiled softly at. "See father? Was it so difficult to admit? You wouldn't have done all that if you didn't fear him. But why not go to Volantis? Why risk fighting for the losing side?"
"Because Volantis had no reason to accept my help. They had strength at sea and on land. And as you said, they were winning. A winning side would be less interested in making pacts with a late comer to their war. So, I took a gamble and that gamble paid off. It's part of the course for a ruler child, sometimes, you have to make decisions that you don't know the uncertainty off and hope for the best."
"And it seemed you shouldn't have worried."
He chuckled quietly to himself, shoulders moving as he did so. "No, I suppose I shouldn't have bothered about the whole endeavour if I knew what that Tully boy was going to do. I'll give him that though," He said raising his glass in a toast of the red-haired king. "What he did took some courage and a pair of great steel casted bollocks to do. If it failed, his fate wouldn't have been something I would wish on the worst of my enemies." He paused for a moment. "Except for Harren."
Argella could never understand why her father seemed to have such a dislike for Harren. Perhaps the Black Blood had done something in the past? Well, apart from previously conquering land that had previous belonged to the Kingdom of the Storm.
"So why can you not marry me to King Edmyn then? He seems a fine enough lord."
"Because I doubt the stormlords would ever take the notion of bending their knee to a riverlord or whatever he calls himself. Don't forget child, it was only three generations ago that the entirety of the Trident was in the palm of our hands, us stormlords don't forget so easily." He told her, shaking his head. "And many of them wouldn't take for anything else other than a Durrandon in Storm's End, not some Seven damned trout as well." He shook his head at the thought. "A trout, what kind of sigil is that?" He asked, letting out a bark of laughter at the thought. "And in truth, I had someone in mind for a husband for you, someone the stormlords would be hard pressed to even ignore or make a complaint about."
"Who?" She had asked, much to her surprise, much as well to see that she had found herself leaning forward in curiosity at the thought of her father having thought of a husband for her.
Her father was quiet for a moment, gently rocking the glass of wine in his hand. "Aegon Targaryen."
"Aegon Targaryen...?" It took a moment for the full weight of the name to register with her before she backed into her seat, her face draining of colour at the thought. "You would have married me to some sister fucking, Valyrian bastard!?" The entire idea to her was nauseating to think about.
And that wasn't even the thought of what it meant when it came to the Faith. Aegon fucking his sisters would very well be one of the problems the Faith would bring up with such a union.
"A Valyrian bastard with dragons." Her father corrected her easily enough.
"So?" She asked. "Dragons can die. The stories say so and the Doom showed it as well."
Her father snorted. "Not all stories are true child. And you didn't see Aegon atop that beast shower a fleet of hundreds of ships in black fire. For the first time in my life, I saw something I wouldn't want to grab by the neck and throttle it. And anyway, it's pointless now. Aegon has settled for building himself a kingdom in the east."
That was true. She had heard the stories and the reports in her father's councils.
The last she had heard, Myr, Tyrosh and Lys had quickly proclaimed Aegon as their king when he had made his declaration, she didn't have any doubt that his coming to the rescue of those three daughters of Valyria against Volantene Conquest had much to do with them quickly agreeing to him becoming their king.
It was said the Free Companies and armies of those three daughters marched with the three headed dragon of House Targaryen.
"Strange," She mused quietly but enough for her father to hear her. "Volantis offered him a crown as the new king of a new Valryian Freehold and yet he refused it."
"A man can change his mind. Perhaps he wanted to forge a crown from his own strength instead of being given it by others." Her father shrugged his broad shoulders as he finished the last of his wine with one mighty gulp. "It doesn't matter though," he said as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his doublet. "He won't have any easy time of it. I doubt Aegon has many friends or allies in Volantis with his previous actions."
"So, what of a husband for me then?" Argella asked, turning the conversation to the most concerning matter at hand. Although she couldn't help but thankful that she didn't have rest with the knowledge that she was to be married to a Targaryen.
Her father smiled at her. "Rest easy child of mine, when I make my decision, I'm sure you will agree."
***
The Greenhand
"Brother!" Prince Gawen was startled out of his thinking at the shout of his older brother who marched towards him, a smile on his face and arms held wide, ready for an embrace.
"Edmund." Gawen smiled as he returned the hug that his brother had offered him. "How have you been?"
Edmund smiled brightly as they parted from each other. "Oh, nothing interesting has happened. What I want to know is how have you been enjoying the sights and smells of Oldtown? You're a married man now."
"Ah, yes." Gawen smiled sheepishly at the thought of Delilah back in the Hightower of the Hightowers, heavy with their first child. "I think you'll be an uncle in a moon's turn at the very least. If it's a son, I hope to name him in your honour."
"Oh I'd be honoured! To be honest, I thought you would name him after father, I think we have enough Mern's running around at the moment. And let's not forget the Garths. To be honest we need more variety in the naming of our babes and future kings of the Gardeners." His brother said with a laugh as they walked through the white washed walls of Highgarden, vines of the deepest green sometimes growing up the walls.
Yet it all added to the beauty of his childhood home.
"I'm sure with me and you at work, that won't be a problem anymore." Gawen said with good humour.
Edmund smiled. "It might very well be that the Garths and Merns might come down in numbers soon enough." Gawen raised an eyebrow at his older brother who then proceeded to elaborate. "Father thinks it queer that there are Eight Kingdoms instead of Seven in Westeros. He wants to change that."
Gawen near lost his footing at the notion. "The Trident?"
Edmund green eyes looked at him in amusement. "What other kingdom could I be talking about? Yes, father intends to put an end to this Kingdom of the Trident. I think this would be the shortest iteration of the Kingdom of the Trident yet, I don't think it's even been a year."
It had actually been a year, but his brother had the right of it. If father's wishes were granted, this new Kingdom of the Trident was going to be the shortest one yet.
Yet, the notion of going to war for nothing more than father found the number eight queer for Westeros didn't sit well with him. "The Faith has been making some noise about leaving the new kingdom be. At least for a grace period."
"I know," Edmund yawned as they continued to make their way through the interior of Highgarden. "I was there when the High Septon came along and beseeched father to keep men in the field, tending their crops and animals. Father said his words and I think that was enough."
Gawen shook his head. "I doubt it, a Most Devout visited the Hightower some moons ago, and I'm sure every major house has been visted by a Most Devout. They all preached the same thing, that this new kingdom was a sign from the Seven, that this Edmyn Tully was chosen by the Seven to be king for driving out the ironborn."
"Don't tell me you believe in that drivel they had been spouting." Edmund asked, aghast.
"Not as much as the next man, but I'd admit, the notion of going to war doesn't sit well with me. If we march against this new kingdom, the Lannisters might move against us, as well as the Martells and Argilac has returned from across the narrow sea as well." Gawen shook his head. "What's wrong with peace? Garth the Goldenhand had the right of it, nothing is more fit for a king than seeing his subjects grow old and die without holding a weapon in hand." He glanced at his brother and sighed. "Close your mouth brother, it isn't seemly for the Crown Prince to be gaping so."
His brother didn't listen to him. "What of glory? For our family? For Highgarden? For the Reach? To have your name be etched in songs for all eternity. Isn't that worth fighting for?"
"I'd rather have my children know of me personally than through songs and tales of my glory whilst I lay dead in the tombs."
"If only you can die so easily." Edmund shook his head as he clasped his hands behind his back. "It doesn't matter though, Harlen is making a good go of it to convince our father to leave this new kingdom alone and father probably will, just to shut everyone up."
Gawen held back a snort. "That sounds about right."
"Although I have to say this though, when this grace period or whatever the Faith is calling it is over and done with, there will be war."
He couldn't help but let out a defeated sigh at the thought. "I can't say I'm surprised."
***
Faith
"These be Blackwood lands, m'lords."
Their guide told them as they followed a dirt track through the Blackwood Vale. A land of rolling hills, flat lands and many a river and streams. The riverlands were apt named, Luceon decided, never in his life had he seen so many rivers as he had ever since he stepped foot into these lands, to bring the light of the Seven for the people that had been turned away from their gods for so long.
"We are not lords, goodman." Septon Justin said pleasantly, grunting somewhat with the pack on his back that he was carrying. "There are no lords amongst this party, just goodmen like you."
The guide bobbed his head, a straw hat upon his head to protect his balding head from the sun above. "Aye, I understandm m'lo-septons and septas."
Septon Justin laughed. "Suppose that's good enough for now, my goodman." The senior septon turned to face him, eyes filled with wonder and mirth. "Think about it Owen, we'll be the first men of the Faith to enter these lands in near a century."
Owen looked around at the fields around them, the lonely trees standing at attention in mourning for the comrades they had lost years ago and to the quietly rushing stream of water some several paces away from them to their left.
"I'm just glad that there are no ironborn here, septon." He shuddered at the thought of those savages. He had heard tales of what they had done to the septons and septas when they had taken the riverlands all so long ago.
"Wouldn't worry about them, septons." Their guide told them, the long walking they had done, seemingly not having affected him at all. "Lord Blackwood has been making sure that those scum are vanquished from his lands. Good of him to do so, normal folk didn't like 'em ironborn so much. Killed friends as they will, did the same to the womenfolk as well, though they carried away the ones they liked, even if they've been wed underneath the heart tree."
Septon Luceon perked up for a moment. "You are a follower of the old gods then?"
The old gods...Owen had heard of them. They had been the gods of Westeros and the First Men before the Andals came, but after long years of conquest an assimilation, the last bastion of the old gods was in the heathen wastelands of the north.
It honestly surprised him that they were worshippers of the old gods in the south such as that of the Blackwoods and by the looks of it, some of their smallfolk. He clutched the Seven pointed star clasped around his neck and made some quiet prayers, it seemed that they had much work to do, to bring the people back to the true Faith.
The man shook his head. "No, I'm a man of the Faith. My family has been a man of the Faith for as long as my nan can remember."
"Ah, so you were wed in a sept then?" Septon Luceon asked as they continued to walk. "That's good to know. We worried that over the decades, much of the Faith would have been lost or deviated."
Their guide stopped for a moment. "Pardon me for asking, septons, septas, but what is a sept?"
Owen blinked. "You've never heard of a sept?" He shook his head. "I don't understand, I thought you were wed."
"I am wed."
"How were you wed?"
"Underneath a heart tree with the Seven watching the ceremony."
"What?"
Just what sort of blasphemy was this?