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Post by Politburo Barry on Jun 23, 2020 14:10:41 GMT -5
"I don't think anyone short of that red witch can convince Stannis of anything." Tris replied with a smirk, which quickly faded to make way for a scowl as he noticed the other Ironborn had fixed their attention to him. "I'm fine, by the way. Just, uh, saw a fly on the edge of my cup." He pointed a finger at Fingers and added, "You'd better win, by the way. I've put coin down on you, Fingers - don't disappoint me or my silver now."
"Well, anyway," Botley resumed once he was reasonably sure that the other Ironborn had gone back to their own business, "I wasn't thinking anything that was going to get you or the others killed, honest." Just myself, maybe. "Just that no man, whether a greenlander like Massey or one of your uncle's lickspittles, would be able to even think about trying to wed you if you were already wed. In a proper ceremony, that is, not that farce with the Ironmaker and his pet seal, and to someone whose house honor or loyalty to you they could never doubt - someone who nobody could claim tricked or forced you into the match. It'd be a match that we could trust even Stannis, no matter how much he might want to, couldn't nullify with a word so that he could foist you off on one of his lieutenants instead, not if he really respects laws and justice even half as much as he claims."
Tristifer finished his last cup, and had to momentarily stop to hold his head with one hand while his elbow remained propped up against the edge of the desk. Gods, that booze was really too strong...if Asha were to punch him for what he was about to say next, she'd probably knock him out instantly. "You know, someone like myself." Despite his uncertainty and the feeling that a leviathan pod was thrashing about in his skull, he managed a weak grin.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 23, 2020 14:33:00 GMT -5
Ser Justin Massey is summoned to attend on the King, as quickly as he is able.
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Post by Politburo Barry on Jun 23, 2020 14:54:35 GMT -5
Massey appears as instructed, cheeks still red from the Northern chill. He wears some of the garb he picked up in Essos now, Braavosi black and silver of a finer make than most Westerosi spinsters and weavers can produce, though the triple spiral design on his woollen cloak made it impossible for him to be mistaken for an actual Braavosi any time soon.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 23, 2020 15:00:48 GMT -5
She had expected that suggestion for a long time. The last time Tris had asked to wed her had been before the ill-fated kingsmoot. Back then she refused his advances, reprimanding him for his childishness. It was almost impressive that he still had not given up the notion. She did not hit him, but she shot him an evil eye.
"You've got some balls, Lordsport boy, for proposing to me within throwing distance of my ax. But I'm in a good mood today, so I'll humor you. Why should I marry you, when one of the Goodbrother triplets, or Sunderly or Tawney would bring me allies able to support my claim to Pyke?"
Asha had enjoyed the innocence of childhood, when the wonder of the world seemed endless. Tris had had a place in her heart back then. But with age and knowledge, that had all faded.
"Marriage is not a lovers' game, Tris, never has been. Allies and enemies, that's all you make with a wedding. And I need allies to retake my birthright. And so do you, if you want Lordsport back from your uncle. The only thing you got going is that you're the Ironborn in closest proximity, and by that logic I could just as well marry Fingers."
Asha's remark made the Ironborn flinch for a split second, enough to take his focus off the finger dance... enough for him to lose a finger. He grunted in pain as his right pinky fell to the ground. Cromm hollered his victory cry, joined by the other ironmen that had bet on him. Asha roared with laughter.
"HA! That's what you get for thinking with your cock, Fingers! Alright, next round's on me with all your money!"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 23, 2020 15:21:40 GMT -5
Massey appears as instructed, cheeks still red from the Northern chill. He wears some of the garb he picked up in Essos now, Braavosi black and silver of a finer make than most Westerosi spinsters and weavers can produce, though the triple spiral design on his woollen cloak made it impossible for him to be mistaken for an actual Braavosi any time soon.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 23, 2020 17:12:05 GMT -5
Davos came knocking, he guessed he could give a hand to Templeton and spare everyone much trouble.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 23, 2020 17:14:15 GMT -5
"Lord Davos."
The King was with Justin Massey, the Hand's entrance breaking up their discussion.
"I could use your counsel. I had a messenger from Littlefinger, a Templeton of Ninestars."
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Post by oznerol on Jun 23, 2020 17:16:41 GMT -5
"Lord Davos."The King was with Justin Massey, the Hand's entrance breaking up their discussion. "I could use your counsel. I had a messenger from Littlefinger, a Templeton of Ninestars."
Said Davos, crossing the threshold, he passes a hand through the thinning hair. "He's... reasonable. Quite so. And glib of tongue, despite his bluntness"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 23, 2020 17:54:11 GMT -5
"He's also a bloody mercenary. I can think of no other reason why a man would serve one such as Baelish."
Stannis withdrew, and folded his arms. The king's visage had contorted into a menacing grimace.
"So he sent you to talk me into something. Speak your mind."
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Post by Politburo Barry on Jun 23, 2020 18:17:54 GMT -5
She had expected that suggestion for a long time. The last time Tris had asked to wed her had been before the ill-fated kingsmoot. Back then she refused his advances, reprimanding him for his childishness. It was almost impressive that he still had not given up the notion. She did not hit him, but she shot him an evil eye."You've got some balls, Lordsport boy, for proposing to me within throwing distance of my ax. But I'm in a good mood today, so I'll humor you. Why should I marry you, when one of the Goodbrother triplets, or Sunderly or Tawney would bring me allies able to support my claim to Pyke?"Asha had enjoyed the innocence of childhood, when the wonder of the world seemed endless. Tris had had a place in her heart back then. But with age and knowledge, that had all faded."Marriage is not a lovers' game, Tris, never has been. Allies and enemies, that's all you make with a wedding. And I need allies to retake my birthright. And so do you, if you want Lordsport back from your uncle. The only thing you got going is that you're the Ironborn in closest proximity, and by that logic I could just as well marry Fingers."Asha's remark made the Ironborn flinch for a split second, enough to take his focus off the finger dance... enough for him to lose a finger. He grunted in pain as his right pinky fell to the ground. Cromm hollered his victory cry, joined by the other ironmen that had bet on him. Asha roared with laughter."HA! That's what you get for thinking with your cock, Fingers! Alright, next round's on me with all your money!" Tris scratched at his thick, messy hair. "But what good's a disloyal and false ally? Goodbrother, Sunderly, Tawney - all these and the rest have elected Euron, or fallen in line behind him. They did that because they think he offers them so much more than you do. And they've all seen what he does to his enemies." Not that Asha was any slouch, nor were the Ironborn kindly bunnies in general, but Euron was a whole other level of brutal. He'd had Baelor Blacktyde hacked to pieces for not kneeling before him. "I'm sure they respect your father's legacy and yours, but drowned and dismembered corpses are damn memorable in their own way. We saw how almost all the Northmen who actually fought for Bolton stuck by him until he was crushed, save the Mermen who came over to Stannis' side, and how those Karstarks risked getting - and actually did get - roasted on a spit to aid Bolton as false defectors besides." The way those treacherous Northmen had died was unforgettable, just like the cannibals before them, and not something Tristifer would have wished on anyone even for treason. "You wouldn't be able to trust that any of Euron's who goes over to you aren't still secretly working for him, waiting to stab you in the back when they can, until and unless he actually dies.""Now me, on the other hand..." Botley seemed to think twice about taking another drink, setting his cup down before he passed out. He'd need all the sober parts of his brain left to make his pitch, anyway. "Well, I came all the way out here with you, and you know how I, uh, feel about you. You don't have to second-guess my loyalties. But more than that, I doubt I'm totally without friends at home to bring to your side. I can't imagine every single one of my father's men and kin by marriage approved of Euron drowning him for his belief that your brother was the rightful King." He tightened his fist. "Nor Blacktyde's. I knew quite a few of his guards and servants by name, while I was fostered in his hall. They liked their lord well enough - they must have, to continue working for him despite his embrace of the Seven Gods of the greenlands. And why wouldn't they rise for you, if they not only know you could avenge their murdered lords, but that I - their rightful lord and their last rightful lord's friend, respectively - would stand at your side as your husband? And those who don't share these feelings, well - I also happen to be familiar with Lordsport and Blacktyde Castle, obviously, and I don't think my father or Lord Baelor changed where all the entryways were before their untimely demise."Botley loosened his hand now. "Fingers over there, I'm sure he has his uses, but unless he's a secret descendant of the Greyirons I don't think digging up connections to prominent houses is one of them. Give me a chance to reach out to my old connections, and I may be able to start your rightful reconquest of the Iron Isles with a stout castle and the only real town in the Isles when we get there. Better places than most to start, right?""Oh. And uh," Botley tugged at his collar, reddening even further, "One last thing. Some affection never hurts a marriage, right? I mean...I really can't imagine you'd find much of that with old Ironmaker in your current bind." His sheepish smile dissolved amid a groan as he saw Fingers defeated, one of his fingers falling to the floor. He placed the stag he owed on the table and pushed it over to Asha, shaking his head in shared defeat with the man he'd bet on. "I have a task for you, Massey. A chance for you to prove your worth to me again."The King was dressed in plain linens and furs, grey and black. He was leaning over a sheaf of parchments. "We sail for the Riverlands soon. You will go to the Vale, and seek out this Harrold Hardyng, the supposed heir to the Vale."Stannis rolled up a document and stamped it with his seal. He handed it to Massey."This is my writ. It names this Harrold Lord of the Vale in his own right, if he bends the knee and recognises me as his king, and raises his banners to support me." Davos came knocking, he guessed he could give a hand to Templeton and spare everyone much trouble. "Lord Davos."The King was with Justin Massey, the Hand's entrance breaking up their discussion. "I could use your counsel. I had a messenger from Littlefinger, a Templeton of Ninestars." The rest of Massey's declaration was interrupted by the entry of Ser Davos, the King's right hand. Lower born than he, of course, and oft looked down on by the rest of the peers marching with Stannis for that reason, but he was a man who Massey couldn't help but respect for his forthright nature and zealous dedication to the Baratheon cause. To have lost sons, ship and lands in service to the King and keep fighting for him anyway was something the knight of spirals found admirable. He looked on with silent curiosity as the Onion Knight approached to tell Stannis of his own chat with this Templeton from the Vale.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jun 24, 2020 2:44:16 GMT -5
"Allies. Yes." Tris scratched at his thick, messy hair. "But what good's a disloyal and false ally? Goodbrother, Sunderly, Tawney - all these and the rest have elected Euron, or fallen in line behind him. They did that because they think he offers them so much more than you do. And they've all seen what he does to his enemies." Not that Asha was any slouch, nor were the Ironborn kindly bunnies in general, but Euron was a whole other level of brutal. He'd had Baelor Blacktyde hacked to pieces for not kneeling before him. "I'm sure they respect your father's legacy and yours, but drowned and dismembered corpses are damn memorable in their own way. We saw how almost all the Northmen who actually fought for Bolton stuck by him until he was crushed, save the Mermen who came over to Stannis' side, and how those Karstarks risked getting - and actually did get - roasted on a spit to aid Bolton as false defectors besides." The way those treacherous Northmen had died was unforgettable, just like the cannibals before them, and not something Tristifer would have wished on anyone even for treason. "You wouldn't be able to trust that any of Euron's who goes over to you aren't still secretly working for him, waiting to stab you in the back when they can, until and unless he actually dies.""Now me, on the other hand..." Botley seemed to think twice about taking another drink, setting his cup down before he passed out. He'd need all the sober parts of his brain left to make his pitch, anyway. "Well, I came all the way out here with you, and you know how I, uh, feel about you. You don't have to second-guess my loyalties. But more than that, I doubt I'm totally without friends at home to bring to your side. I can't imagine every single one of my father's men and kin by marriage approved of Euron drowning him for his belief that your brother was the rightful King." He tightened his fist. "Nor Blacktyde's. I knew quite a few of his guards and servants by name, while I was fostered in his hall. They liked their lord well enough - they must have, to continue working for him despite his embrace of the Seven Gods of the greenlands. And why wouldn't they rise for you, if they not only know you could avenge their murdered lords, but that I - their rightful lord and their last rightful lord's friend, respectively - would stand at your side as your husband? And those who don't share these feelings, well - I also happen to be familiar with Lordsport and Blacktyde Castle, obviously, and I don't think my father or Lord Baelor changed where all the entryways were before their untimely demise."Botley loosened his hand now. "Fingers over there, I'm sure he has his uses, but unless he's a secret descendant of the Greyirons I don't think digging up connections to prominent houses is one of them. Give me a chance to reach out to my old connections, and I may be able to start your rightful reconquest of the Iron Isles with a stout castle and the only real town in the Isles when we get there. Better places than most to start, right?""Oh. And uh," Botley tugged at his collar, reddening even further, "One last thing. Some affection never hurts a marriage, right? I mean...I really can't imagine you'd find much of that with old Ironmaker in your current bind." His sheepish smile dissolved amid a groan as he saw Fingers defeated, one of his fingers falling to the floor. He placed the stag he owed on the table and pushed it over to Asha, shaking his head in shared defeat with the man he'd bet on.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 24, 2020 15:24:02 GMT -5
"He's also a bloody mercenary. I can think of no other reason why a man would serve one such as Baelish."Stannis withdrew, and folded his arms. The king's visage had contorted into a menacing grimace. "So he sent you to talk me into something. Speak your mind." 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"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 24, 2020 16:45:23 GMT -5
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.”
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Post by oznerol on Jun 24, 2020 17:06:41 GMT -5
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.”Said Davos. He silently thanked the Father for letting Stannis see reason in his words. "I will fetch him here"He added, with a short nod and left to bring Templeton back to the Baratheon.
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Post by Politburo Barry on Jun 24, 2020 17:16:01 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?"
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