Life was funny sometimes he mused, taking a sip from his goblet of
ale, a fancy gold and jewel encrusted one, lavish, gaudy,
ostentatious, and thoroughly un-northern to his mind. Much like the
inhabitants of the Red Keep he mused as he took another sip, the
ale inside the goblet was quite good, and he was sworn off wine, at
his new bride's insistence, for Alysanne had warned him not to get
so drunk as to not be able to perform!
His new bride, that, that made something warm settle in his chest at
that thought, and he turned slightly to spy Alysanne, who was deep
in conversation with Prince Hugh, who was doing his best to not look
morose and serious.
He had wanted to marry Alysanne back in Winterfell, before the
Weirwood in the great Godswood of his ancestral seat, but the girl
was, well, insistent on getting married, claiming that she would not
be able to wait until then. Not that they had fucked, no, but the
tension between them was something palpable, agonising even, and
if he was honest with himself, he was happy that they had been
married.
And even before a Heart Tree, for the Godswood1 in the Red Keep
had one at its centre, just as a Godswood should. A small one mind
you, barely adequate for the purpose, but a weirwood nonetheless.
He had even asked the King to give away his bride, which the lad
had accepted and had been happy to do so, beaming as he recited
the words and gave Alysanne over to his protection as he named her
a Stark.
And their wedding feast was in full swing, wine and ale were flowing
in abundance, the food was much more elaborate and well, exotic
than would have been provided in Winterfell, but Alysanne was
happy, and so he was happy.
His banner men were happy also, all of his army had arrived in Kings
Landing after a few weeks, and preparations were underway to ship
all of them north to White Harbor as opposed to having to traipse
through a devastated Riverlands in the depths of winter. Not that the
winter was bad here in the south, at least compared to the North, but
there was no food to be had along the way, and famine was already
stalking some parts of the Riverlands. Other parts of the Riverlands
were empty of life, everything having been burned away during the
so recent conflict, so returning home by sea was really the only
option.
Which meant staying longer in Kings Landing and the south than he
wanted to, but to gather the necessary shipping would take time,
which was not helped by the fact that the ships full of grain for the
North had been sent first, they would return to Kings Landing and
pick up the men of the North and bring them back home.
Not that a journey by ship in winter would be easy, winter storms
were apparently raging off The Fingers and The Paps, and he
wondered how many of them would not see the North again and
instead find a watery grave?
He shook his head to clear these maudlin thoughts, he had been left
with time to kill in Kings Landing, and as Lord Regent Corlys had
quipped when he had informed him of his marriage 'what better way
to kill boredom than to get married!'
He had taken a rather visceral dislike to the Lord Regent on first
meeting the man, despite his reputation, despite him having been
loyal all along, something did not feel right about Lord Corlys to him.
There was something far too….assured, too arrogant about the man
for his liking.
He and his cavalry had arrived in Kings Landing a few days after the
battle that had scoured the city and the Red Keep, to find the place
in uproar and chaos, the city streets lawless and the Red Keep
wrapped in the oddest of atmospheres, like everyone was watching
everyone else so see who would blink first.
And from that moment onwards his feeling of disquiet had only
intensified, the tales told of the battles within the Red Keep between
the defenders and the invaders were not matching up to his mind.
Invaders who had apparently used secret passageways to enter at
will, the same secret passageways that nobody seemed to be able to
find now. The timings of certain events also did not make sense to
his mind, especially the murders of Queen Alicent and her family, the
surviving Princess, though only a lass, had told him her tale of how
she survived, by hiding in a wardrobe, under a mass of bedsheets
and blankets. And the Princess had been insistent that the killers of
her family had descended upon them before the dragons' roars had
been heard over Kings Landing.
But the story of the men who had supposedly 'saved' Princess
Jaehaera, and who had cut down all the murders of the family of
Queen Alicent, were all adamant that they had surprised the cut
throats in their act after the dragons had fallen from the sky to
destroy the Sept that once sat atop Visenya's Hill.
And strangely the same could be said of the story of the two
surviving sons of Daemon Targaryen, both of whom had secreted
themselves in a privy for safety when they had heard the clash of
steel outside their chambers. He had gone and seen the privy for
himself, underneath and tucked away out of sight down the shaft
was a hidey hole, with steps and handholds invisible from above.
The Princes had told him that many of the privies in the Red Keep
were so designed, or so their father had claimed.
The Princes had claimed that the fighting had commenced shortly
after they had first heard the roars of dragons, noting for him that
there had been a brief series of dragon roars first before a much
louder series of dragon roars. And it was the later set of dragon roars
that they were referring to. Whereas the men who had claimed to
have rescued the Princes, again slaying the men set on murdering
the Princes, claimed to have rescued the Princes before any dragon
roars had been heard.
On top of all of this there was the rape and murder of Princess
Rhaena, the wife of Prince Hugh, and here again the story being told
to him by different parties was not adding up, and he was getting
increasingly frustrated with what he was discovering of the events of
that day.
And the commonality here? Lord Corlys, for the men who were
telling the tales that did not match were in all cases his, sworn
knights, men at arms and his banner men were telling tales that did
not add up.
It was a conundrum that he was determined to get to the bottom of,
as murders had taken place, and murders had to always be
punished. No matter that Lord Corlys had produced documents
showing that Queen Rhaenyra herself had ordered the deaths of
Queen Alicent and her family, what had happened were not
executions, but murders. If Queen Alicent and her family had
survived and had to be put to death, he would have had no problem
with it, but what had happened smacked of something darker,
something akin to the sort of politics and games that honest
Northmen had no time for.
He and his countrymen might have no time for this sort of carry on,
but that did not mean they were fools either, and could not see what
was obvious before their faces, and which everyone else seemed to
be studiously ignoring.
No, foul deeds had been perpetrated here, a former King and two
Queens had been murdered to pave the way for ambitious men to
gain power, of that he was certain. And he was duty bound to do
something about it, he could not in good conscience return to
Winterfell without first putting things to right.
But he had only a limited span of a few weeks at most to get to the
bottom of all of this, oh he knew who his main suspect was, the
smugly sitting Lord Regent, who stood to increase his power and
rule the realm for nigh on the next decade. And whose house had
been confirmed in a plethora of tax exemptions, licenses, and
patents to trade, which were already causing comment and outrage
at the size of the largesse that the Iron Throne was dolling out to
House Velaryon.
The question was finding evidence enough on Lord Corlys to bring
him down, and he fretted that he might not be able to do so.
And there was also the rather thorny issues of Prince Hugh, who
rode the largest surviving dragon in the realm and who was being
effectively snubbed by all and sundry. Add to this that many accounts
varied about the battle above the city that had seen Caraxes and
Vhagar crash to earth and destroy the Great Sept. A battle which
according to some accounts, had carried the whiff of foul treachery.
For some were whispering the Prince Hugh had bathed both Vhagar
and Caraxes indiscriminately in dragonfire, causing both great
beasts to fall from the sky, their wings burned to ash like parchment
cast into a forge.
When asked about this very matter Prince Hugh had simply replied
"the shot was there, so I took the shot", as if that explained anything
at all.
Was the Prince, a man he had come to regard as something of a
friend, involved in what seemed to be dark, and sinister deeds. Did
the Prince kill his own father deliberately or in accident? And if the
first, to what end as he seemed to have received no reward for his
actions. And if the later was that why he was being ignored and
pushed to one side in the affairs of the Iron Throne?
"Stop" he hear the word breathed into his ear, followed by the tiniest
of licks.
"My lady, sorry, I was…."
"You were being 'Lord Stark', stop and be my husband instead and
enjoy our wedding feast!"
"Very well, I am sorry."
"Oh, you will be" winked Alysanne, the smirk on her lips promising all
sorts of things.
To take his fevered mind off just exactly what 'all sorts of things'
would entail he asked, "how is Prince Hugh?"
At this Alysanne's face fell a little, sorrow chasing anger across her
features "as well as can be expected….he still grieves for his wife, I
fear his heart is broken…."
"Hopefully it will mend soon…"
"It will, but not with those dammed stupid bannermen of yours
offering him every daughter they have, from babes still at the teat to
crones to him!" Alysanne snapped, genuine anger in her voice.
His bannermen were an incorrigible lot at best, and they always
needed watching, especially if they thought they could, as his father
had said 'pull a fast one'. And trying to snare a Prince of the Realm
and his dragon was definitely 'a fast one' as far as he was
concerned.
As he was thinking he got a sharp poke in the ribs, which hurt him,
he turned to Alysanne, the source of this sudden pain to remonstrate
with her, catching sight simultaneously of her ironically raised
eyebrow and Lord Mors Umber behind her.
The Lord of Last Heart was propped up at the High Table, a flagon of
wine in one hand, the other being used alternately to hold himself up
and gesture wildly at Prince Hugh.
"I'll tell you lad, I have just the lass for the likes of you, my daughter
Tess! Ten and seven and tits the size of these here pumpkin things!"
here he gestured to the display of fruits and vegetables that
decorated the high table. "Great big teats! Yes, and wide,
childbearing hips, sure to keep you warm at night and birth you many
strong sons!" Lord Mors let out a thunderous belch and continued on
"she's a pretty thing too, long raven hair, eyes a blue as a summer
sky, cute dimples" another belch punctuating his proposal "image of
her mother at that age, as beautiful a maid as any you would find in
the seven kingdoms!" that last bit being said with all the confidence
of a proud parent and the challenge of a father who was also willing
to come to blows to enforce his boast.
As he was just about to stand up and defuse the situation Hugh beat
him to it "Lord Umber, your offer is very kind, but what of my dragon?
I am afraid he would not do well so far north, unless Last Hearth has
a big enough hall for him to make his winter lair in?"
"Erh, ummm, well, no lad, I…." replied Lord Umber, the likely vast
amount of drink he had consumed stunting his ability to continue and
threatening to topple him over he noted wryly.
"Ser Hugh is still in mourning for his wife, my granddaughter" came
the cutting reply from the Lord Regent. "A year and a moon have not
yet passed; Ser Hugh will not be entertaining any marriage
proposals until then."
Lord Umbar swayed and stumbled for a minute or so, burped several
times, looking dangerously like he was going to be sick, until he
finally said, "suite yourself" and half tumbled, half fell down off the
dais that the high table was mounted on.
He did not even bother to return the look Alysanne was giving him,
"I'll speak to them again."
I know the 'modern' Red Keep Godswood does not have a weirwood
but my head canon on this is that it originally did have one, but
Baelor the Befuddled had it cut down, hence why there is an oak
there in ASOIAF instead of a weirwood.