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Post by Pinkerton on Jun 24, 2020 22:18:30 GMT -5
Templeton appeared once again before Stannis, this time escorted by the Onion Knight.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 25, 2020 2:38:39 GMT -5
Asha cheerfully took the stag and pocketed it. She looked at Botley, eyeing him up and down. Despite how boring he had become, she could not deny that there was wisdom in his words. He had connections to both Lordsport and Blacktyde, and would know better than to try and push her around if they were wed. Nor to chastise her if she found other men to warm her bed from time to time. Maybe it was the several cups of ale, but the thought of marrying her childhood friend was becoming less unappealing. She grabbed another cup of ale and downed it, seeking wisdom in the alcohol. By the Storm God, what was she thinking?"Alright, Tris, I'll not deny that you're making a good argument. So how about I give you a challenge to prove yourself? If we are to marry, we'll need a drowned priest and access to the sea to make it official, and Stannis won't be able to annul it so easily. Find a priest and we can elope right under Stannis' nose. Good luck, Botley boy." Tris queried with a tired smile as he massaged his temple, more of it from the drink and last night's half-over hangover than the mental calculations he was firing off in his mind now. Access to the sea and a Drowned Priest...well, there was no way he'd find either here in Winterfell, smack-dab in the heart of the North and surrounded by Stannis' fire priests or the treehuggers native to this land. Unfortunately, no Drowned Priests had come with their crew to the North either, certainly not Asha's now-missing other uncle Aeron. Returning to the Iron Isles to fetch one was also suicidal as long as Euron still lived, and even if he wanted to he didn't know if they had any longships left after the disaster at Deepwood Motte - at the very least, the Mormonts had burnt the ones Asha had beached. Unless...perhaps some of the Ironborn might still be scattered near the Neck, whether leftovers from Theon's daring but ill-fated attack or dispersed foragers and remnants of the army with which Victarion Greyjoy had taken Moat Cailin. The odds that they still survived so long after the collapse of the Ironborn positions in the North, much less that a priest could be among them, were infinitesmal, but Botley judged them to be more likely than his ability to sail to the Iron Isles, not die, and return with a Drowned Priest before the King had married Asha off to Massey or another one of his knights. As he concluded these calculations, he sure hoped that the alcohol hadn't tampered with his already mediocre skill at numbers. "You're on." Botley finally said. In his eyes, Asha could recognize the boy taking up her more dangerous dares in their childhood. "I'll need that luck and more, but once we march south, I'll get this done. Just you watch..." "Aye"
He said, bowing his head.
"Templeton said that if we don't interfere in the Vale, not mingling with Littlefinger's protectorship -just leaving it alone- and let Baelish keep his castle they will dip their banners and join the war on our side without hesitation"
Davos scratches his head.
"He says that much bloodshed could be avoided and many lives shall be saved if... you simply let Littlefinger do whatever he currently does at the Vale and keep Harrenhall as his. He's right, sire. You know I would not tell you as much if I didn't think he wasn't"
He looks at Stannis.
"Consider it... sire, just a small concesion and we would not even need rick going into the Bay of Crabs and into the Narrow Sea, we could go the Vale, add their strenght to ours and claim the Riverlands from the protection of their mountains. Gaining a kingdom without need to force Baelish's hand or provoking an inner conflict or, worse, leading him into that foul pretender's hands"
Seaworth passes a hand through his hair.
"We don't know what in the Seven is happening beyond those mountains, we don't know which kid of support Baelish has or could had. We risk diminishing a kingdom's strenght and shedding much blood that else would be behind us on the march to instate you in your throne, king Stannis. Littlefinger is a duvious character, probably most foul, but the war makes weird bed companions and... maybe for the time being we could contemporize with him" Massey didn't interrupt Seaworth as he spoke - service had taught him that Stannis was not, as a rule, a King disposed to letting just any bannerman interrupt another in his presence. He did cross his arms and narrow his eyes as the older Onion Knight related this Templeton's offer for him, though. What kind of emissary employed another emissary to deliver his message? Must not be a confident or persuasive one, Justin surmised. He sure wasn't going to hire some Valeman to deliver Stannis' message to Hardyng for him, personally. The King let the words stew for a moment, skin tightening across his jaw as he churned his teeth in deliberation. His eyes shone menacingly like burning sapphires, the shadow from the hearth looming in the corner of the room. Melisandre emerged, almost from nowhere, like a fiery wraith, towering over all save Stannis Baratheon. ”War does make strange bedfellows. I must stomach the bitter wine of making common cause with Baelish if I am to win my throne, you say.”Davos spoke true, they could not afford the Vale declaring for the pretender in the south. The Red Woman’s voice cut through the King’s thoughts. ”Lord Davos is right. The Vale has a part to play in the wars to come. I have seen it.”She eyed Seaworth with a dispassionate gaze, the corners of her lips suggesting the beginnings of a smile. ”Very well. The matter of Baelish can rest until the war is done, or at least until I am certain of what we shall find there.”Stannis waved his hand. ”Bring Templeton to me and I shall accept the vows on his behalf until we reach the Vale. Our fleet will sail for Gulltown.”He set the writ aside, staring at the fires momentarily as he did so. ”Ser Massey, I still have need of you. Instead of the Vale, you will travel to the Westerlands as my envoy. You are given the authority to treat with the lords there in my name.”Perhaps with the demise of Cersei and the disappearance of Tommen, they might see sense. ”I have no stomach to treat with them myself, but you are more glib than even Renly ever was.”Or maybe he would not be delivering any message to the Vale, after all. "The Westerlands? I'll certainly try, my King." Massey scratched at the back of his head, thinking. "But I don't suppose you have any lord in particular to start with in mind?" If not a lord amenable to deserting House Lannister in this turbulence, then preferably at least one who probably won't lock him in irons and pack him off to King's Landing with or without his head, the knight hoped. It would be rather difficult to serve Stannis and claim Maidenpool and Stonedance if he were dead or in a dungeon. He shot a glance at Seaworth. "Lord Davos, when was the last time you were at Lannisport?" Said Davos, trying to remember. He had been several times at the town, but it had been at least four years since he went there the last time.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 25, 2020 3:19:40 GMT -5
Asha gave Tris a genuine smile. If there was one thing she could not fault him for, it was his tenacity and stubborness, as annoying as it could be sometimes.
"To the victor the spoils. I look forward to what you can conjure up. And good luck, truly."
Perhaps it was the drink again, but the Greyjoy princess felt cheeky. She grabbed Botley by the collar and gave him a big kiss.
"Now shut up and get back to drinking."
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 25, 2020 8:53:03 GMT -5
”Ser Templeton. My Hand spoke on your behalf. Against my better judgement, he has swayed me to agree to your offer, should you swear fealty on the Vale’s behalf.”
The King tightened his jaw reflexively, as if the whole situation irked him. Baelish was one of the many wrongs he would have to right once the fighting was done, it seemed.
—-
”I know not, Massey. But with the Lannisters all but extinct you may find purchase among the houses there that have no love for the Tyrells or this fake dragon.”
Or a Lannister to occupy the Rock, even. There was enough of them around that they could surely find one amenable enough to his claim, now that their regime had been utterly broken.
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Post by Politburo Barry on Jun 25, 2020 10:47:49 GMT -5
Asha gave Tris a genuine smile. If there was one thing she could not fault him for, it was his tenacity and stubborness, as annoying as it could be sometimes."To the victor the spoils. I look forward to what you can conjure up. And good luck, truly."Perhaps it was the drink again, but the Greyjoy princess felt cheeky. She grabbed Botley by the collar and gave him a big kiss."Now shut up and get back to drinking." At first, Botley's eyes looked as if they could pop out of his head. His surprise gave way to a warm smile soon enough though, followed by his cheeks reddening well beyond what alcohol could achieve on its own as he leaned back. There would definitely be no backing out on his part now. "I don't remember... probably few years ago, during Robert's reign"Said Davos, trying to remember. He had been several times at the town, but it had been at least four years since he went there the last time. ”I know not, Massey. But with the Lannisters all but extinct you may find purchase among the houses there that have no love for the Tyrells or this fake dragon.”Or a Lannister to occupy the Rock, even. There was enough of them around that they could surely find one amenable enough to his claim, now that their regime had been utterly broken. The time when King Robert was still alive and well felt like a lifetime ago: when the realm had yet to bleed, Stannis was still just Lord of Dragonstone, and in particular Robb Stark hadn't torn the Westerlands a new arsehole or fifty yet. "Well then, Lord Davos, did you hear of any Westerman lords with a reputation for honorable and forthright conduct the last time you were in Lannisport?" Surely they couldn't all have died in the War of the Five Kings. Or so Massey hoped, anyway.
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Post by Pinkerton on Jun 25, 2020 12:07:19 GMT -5
”Ser Templeton. My Hand spoke on your behalf. Against my better judgement, he has swayed me to agree to your offer, should you swear fealty on the Vale’s behalf.”The King tightened his jaw reflexively, as if the whole situation irked him. Baelish was one of the many wrongs he would have to right once the fighting was done, it seemed. Templeton fought the urge to smile. He had been right; the way to Stannis' ear was through Seaworth. "Of course, your majesty."He knelt and waited for Stannis to speak the oath
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Post by oznerol on Jun 25, 2020 12:14:51 GMT -5
"I... I'm not privy to the highborn's affairs, I'm afraid. Never welcomed into their tables to share their wine"
Said Davos, repying to Massey.
"I never knew any Westman by anything than name, I can't counsel you. I know the inns in Lannisport where one doesn't get robbed at night and which don't have watered ale, but nothing else that could be of use to you"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 25, 2020 13:53:34 GMT -5
Stannis drew Lightbringer, the sword gleaming even in the dim halls of the Starks. On the supposed Red Sword of Heroes Templeton swore vows of fealty, honour, and loyalty, on behalf of himself as well as Lord Baelish, protector of the Vale of Arryn. In the eyes of the Seven and the Lord of Light, the Vale now held Stannis Baratheon as its king.
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Post by Pinkerton on Jun 25, 2020 16:41:53 GMT -5
And thus Templeton rose as a subject of King Stannis Baratheon, the first of his name.
"I'll send the news to Lord Baelish by raven and I'll leave for White Harbour tomorrow, your majesty."
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Post by Politburo Barry on Jun 25, 2020 23:32:37 GMT -5
"I... I'm not privy to the highborn's affairs, I'm afraid. Never welcomed into their tables to share their wine"Said Davos, repying to Massey.
"I never knew any Westman by anything than name, I can't counsel you. I know the inns in Lannisport where one doesn't get robbed at night and which don't have watered ale, but nothing else that could be of use to you"
Massey resisted the urge to sigh and instead gave a nod, though he couldn't hide his disappointment. He'd feared as much, but his expectations in no way prevented him from hoping not to head into the Westerlands completely blind. "Well, thanks regardless, Lord Davos. If you've no other commands for me, Your Grace," He turned his attention back to Stannis, "I shall take my leave and make preparations to depart for the Westerlands."
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 8, 2020 15:41:47 GMT -5
A troupe of Northmen arrived before the gates of Winterfell, thick furs shielding them from the inclement weather. At their head rode their Lord, distinguished by a sable cloak patterned with white sunbursts pinned at his breast by a Weirwood brooch. At his side rode a more slender figure, a young woman with a heart-shaped face and hair the colour of raven’s feathers. They had come up the road from White Harbour, and stayed in the city for a few days before following the White Knife up towards the ancient home of the Starks.
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Post by oznerol on Aug 9, 2020 3:57:25 GMT -5
A troupe of Northmen arrived before the gates of Winterfell, thick furs shielding them from the inclement weather. At their head rode their Lord, distinguished by a sable cloak patterned with white sunbursts pinned at his breast by a Weirwood brooch. At his side rode a more slender figure, a young woman with a heart-shaped face and hair the colour of raven’s feathers. They had come up the road from White Harbour, and stayed in the city for a few days before following the White Knife up towards the ancient home of the Starks. They were welcomed by a woman in white, clad with a furry cloak. She was tall and willowy and fair to behold, few women could compare to the wild and pure beauty of the wildling princess, Val of the Free Folk. She was heavy with child. The lady held the hand of a kid with red hair and bright blue eyes. "In the name of Rickon Stark, I welcome you"She said, while the lord looked half-curious and half-bored. "I hear you're my cousin. But da' had no brothers... and his sister is also death. I saw her tomb, below-below"
He asked as salute.
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 9, 2020 14:37:04 GMT -5
”We are kin after a fashion, my Lord. The same blood runs in our veins.”
Harrion looked more like a Stark than even Rickon did, with a long stern face and a hint of fire behind the pebble coloured eyes. Wild and cold like the wolf lords of old, descended in a line unbroken from the ancient Kings of Winter that ruled the North before southern notions of honour and nobility infected their sensibilities. His Blackwood wife was a pretty thing, tall like her brothers with high cheekbones and an easy smile. She was still half a girl compared to Val, a woman grown in every sense, and the Lord of Karhold’s young bride was awestruck by the regal beauty of Winterfell’s Wildling Queen. Bethany could barely meet her gaze, those sparkling stars that pierced a man’s very soul. Karstark could see why Ned’s bastard had forsaken his vows for her hand.
”For better or for worse, we are still bound to our kinsmen in Winterfell. No matter our previous bad blood.”
Both his father and the Young Wolf were dead, and the Kingslayer too. None left to avenge himself on.
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Post by oznerol on Aug 9, 2020 15:34:28 GMT -5
”We are kin after a fashion, my Lord. The same blood runs in our veins.”Harrion looked more like a Stark than even Rickon did, with a long stern face and a hint of fire behind the pebble coloured eyes. Wild and cold like the wolf lords of old, descended in a line unbroken from the ancient Kings of Winter that ruled the North before southern notions of honour and nobility infected their sensibilities. His Blackwood wife was a pretty thing, tall like her brothers with high cheekbones and an easy smile. She was still half a girl compared to Val, a woman grown in every sense, and the Lord of Karhold’s young bride was awestruck by the regal beauty of Winterfell’s Wildling Queen. Bethany could barely meet her gaze, those sparkling stars that pierced a man’s very soul. Karstark could see why Ned’s bastard had forsaken his vows for her hand. ”For better or for worse, we are still bound to our kinsmen in Winterfell. No matter our previous bad blood.”Both his father and the Young Wolf were dead, and the Kingslayer too. None left to avenge himself on. Said Rickon, trying to find a sense behind Karstark's words. The lords of the sunburst were noble and prideful, they were of the North. "My husband would be glad to hear that, Lord Karstark. Alas, he's gone, beyond the Wall, fighting for us all"Replied Val. The man looked like Alys, albeit much older. Val had met and known that girl, married now to a man of the Free Folk. "You and your men may take the bread and the salt and enjoy Winterfell's hearth"
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 9, 2020 16:23:48 GMT -5
”To fight the White Walkers, and whatever else is left Beyond the Wall. We live in strange times, with Wildlings now living among us.” Gruffly replied the Lord of Karhold, apparently with little malice. Harrion had made his bones killing those wildlings that dared threaten Karstark lands, having spent more than one summer hunting raiders in the Gift with the Umbers. The first man he killed had been a deserter that came back across the Bridge of Skulls with a few new friends. Now it seemed one reigned in Winterfell, the fairest woman he had ever laid eyes on to be sure, but he had no doubt she was still a savage at heart. Nonetheless they eagerly followed her inside Winterfell’s halls to partake in the guest right, a custom the Northmen held ever more dear since Lord Walder’s betrayal at the Twins.
”If it is my lords command, I will follow him to fight, whatever the enemy is. Dead or alive.” Harrion said, between mouthfuls of bread. He washed it down with a horn of black ale. ”But we should trust in the Wall and the Watch. Neither have fallen for a thousand years, not even to your King Mance and his giants.” Even in Maidenpool, Harrion had heard the stories of the vast army that had laid siege to the Wall, of giants riding mammoths and wargs leading birds and beasts into the fray. To his surprise, most of it appeared to be true.
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