Chapitre 38: Maiden's Love
After meeting with Oberyn and Dorian, Edric called for a Small Council meeting to get himself up to speed.
"It has been confirmed that Daenerys does, in truth, possess three dragons." Varys stated, glancing at Edric, who then swept his gaze across the small council as if to say, 'I told you so'. "And they are growing larger every day."
"Three dragons..."
A nervous air swept the Small Council chamber. The last time three dragons from Essos invaded Westeros, all but one of its kingdoms had been conquered. Should these dragons be like those who came before and grow into adulthood, the same could very likely happen.
"The last dragon's skull was the size of an apple, my lords." Gormon Tyrell, the Grand Maester, informed. "The magic related to the dragons has died out over the ages. I doubt these dragons will grow all that large."
"Oh, they will." Edric sat back, the only one except Oberyn, with a calm expression. His lips curled into a slight grin. "Don't you see, the magic of the world is returning? I know the Citadel would dispute that truth even if it were in their face. Alas, those dragons will continue to grow either way."
"..." Gormon furrowed his brows for a moment.
"You seem quite laid back, Edric," Renly remarked, smiling slightly. "Do you truly believe that Ser Barristan alone would be enough to convince her to return without any grudges?"
"Not at all."
"... Then, the most likely scenario is that she will one day invade the Seven Kingdoms with three fully grown dragons." Renly's expression turned more serious. "What will be done, then? She will no doubt seek the heads of all the supposed 'rebels'-"
"You're forgetting something, uncle."
"Enlighten me."
Edric sat up and gave Renly a confident smile;
"You have me."
Edric swept his gaze across the Small Council, giving everyone a momentary sense of confidence that washed away the unease.
"Should Daenerys wish to tyrannise the Seven Kingdoms and refuse to act with reason, I will serve as the Lord Protector of the Realm and put down her dragons - whether by bow or storm. Dragons are creatures of land and sky, both of which the Seven reign over. Should they contest their chosen King, these dragons will not fly for long."
"His Grace does not lack for inspiring confidence." Alester Florent stated with a smile, taking pride in his royal nephew.
"Aye, the Gods would be with us... and not that horselord's widow." Mace Tyrell added with a puff of his round chest.
"A fully-grown dragon would be too large and fast for a few arrows, even if they were fired by you, Your Grace... but lightning is a different matter," Stannis spoke, recalling the times he had witnessed Edric's storm.
"Speaking of which... while I fought against the mountain clans in the Vale, I found a way to combine both." Edric proudly announced. "Three good shots in the eye, and all three will fall with scorched eyes and shattered skulls."
"Well, aren't you a wizard?" Renly chuckled. "Mayhaps Daenerys ought to fear you more than we fear her dragons."
"She should." Edric nodded with a slight smile.
"I am curious about this ability of yours," Oberyn remarked, turning to Edric. "Is it magic or a blessing from the Gods? How do you do it?"
"I'd say it's a bit of both." Edric smiled. "I'll display it for you later if you wish."
"Hm." Oberyn nodded. "Certainly."
"What of the North?" Edric turned to Varys.
"Ser Jaime Lannister has begun his Night's Watch training in earnest, I am told," Varys replied, nodding. "Lord Tyrion has also sent several knights and man at arms from the Westerlands to join him with the reward of gold."
"To protect his treasonous brother, no doubt." Randyll Tarly scoffed. "I doubt the Northerners have much love for him."
"He should be dead to begin with," Stannis remarked, glancing at Edric.
"The Wall needs more than common thieves, murderers and rapists guarding it," Edric replied, facing Stannis without wavering a single inch. "If anything, having more able-bodied men join the Night's Watch is quite a benefit, regardless of the underlying intention. It might make more men inclined to join it, seeing as it has more than just a place for criminals to be forgiven."
"... Besides, I doubt he's having all that much of a good time up there. I believe a swift death would've been a mercy - if anything. The Black is a punishment that will last a lifetime for him."
Hearing that, Stannis pondered for a moment and reluctantly agreed.
They discussed the Iron Islands, which were taking a more peaceful turn under their new Lord Paramount Rodrik Harlaw. The Iron Fleet, while intentionally crippled to boost the royal navy, still boasted quite a number of ships. These ships had been turned into merchant ships used to trade with the Reach, Westerlands, North and even further beyond to Dorne and the Free Cities.
They had begun to develop a culture of trading, benefitting greatly from it, which encouraged that culture to grow even more. Whenever they were attacked by pirates, the Ironborn didn't forget who they were, either... and fought back fiercely. The Narrow Sea had grown a good bit safer because of this.
As for the Westerlands, they were recovering from the rebellion. Many of House Lannister's strongest supporters had lost sizeable plots of land in favour of loyalists across the Realm. Also, due to Edric's headhunting during the Dance of Lions and Stags, a few houses were crippled, if not extinct, in terms of highborn. A number of new faces had risen to power.
Despite this and his infamy as the Imp, Lord Tyrion proved to be a capable Lord Paramount akin to his father. With his uncle Kevan's assistance, the Westerlands boasted growing stability and was on its way to regaining its title as one of the mightier kingdoms.
As for the Riverlands, its lands were recovering swifter than usual thanks to Lannister reparations and the aid of the Iron Throne. The Reach, Dorne, Vale, Stormlands and Crownlands were all doing well without any major issues.
Edric would send a raven informing Winterfell of Mance Rayder's future invasion alongside an offer of assistance should Robb Stark require it.
"There is one more thing... multiple, in truth." Edric suddenly spoke after catching up with all the latest news. "There are several large deposits of Dragonglass on Dragonstone. I want every bit of obsidian mined and turned into various weapons; daggers, spears, arrowheads and swords. Mainly spears."
"Hm... what for?" Renly raised an eyebrow.
"These weapons will prove crucial for Winter." Edric smiled mysteriously. "It is one of the few things that can put a walking dead man to rest."
"It will be done." Stannis nodded without much hesitation, putting more trust in Edric's decisions and the threat of Winter. After all, he had predicted the three dragons when no one knew anything about it.
"Also, I want thousands of barrels of oil and as many pots of wildfire as possible," Edric added. "Put the pyromancers of King's Landing to work and pay them well. Once there is a substantial amount, I want both to be sent to the Wall, Castle Black, and various castles close to the Wall. Fire will play a crucial part in Realm's defence, and the more we have of it at our disposal, the better."
"None of that will be cheap, Your Grace." Alester Florent remarked, trying to do the rough estimates in his head.
"The millions of lives at stake are more precious than any number of gold dragons."
To that, Alester couldn't counter with anything except a nod.
Renly and Stannis agreed to take this matter seriously, fully supporting Edric's plan to arm the Realm with fire and obsidian. The rest of the Small Council followed, with Mace Tyrell going so far as offering a substantial amount of gold in the effort.
...
After the rather lengthy Small Council meeting that stretched into the night, Edric recognised that he felt weary. He was immediately faced with an impatient-looking Arya Stark, who was waiting outside of the Small Council chamber.
"Did you forget your promise already?"
"No." Edric shook his head, raising an eyebrow. "Which one are you talking about, exactly?"
"Joffrey." Arya frowned slightly.
"Ah..." Edric stroked his chin. "Isn't it rather late for that? I said all day long, not all night long."
"... I've been waiting for the entire day." Arya crossed her arms, pouting slightly.
"... We got home to King's Landing today. I know you're excited, but give it a rest." Edric chuckled. "Tomorrow, you'll have plenty of time."
"... Fine."
"Besides, you need to get your sleep." Edric stepped closer, barely raising his hand and flicking her forehead. "You're tiny as it is... Gods know you need all the growth you can get, little wolf girl that you are."
A flash of irritation emerged on her face as she raised her leg and aimed to kick him in that very painful place... but he side-stepped and dodged her completely.
"How will I produce any heirs if you kick me there?" Edric raised an eyebrow.
"You won't!"
She answered simply, turning away with puffed cheeks full of air.
Edric turned back to Ser Loras and Ser Mandon. One wore a slight expression of amusement, while the other looked as dead as usual.
"Ser Mandon, learn to smile more often."
"Is that an order, Your Grace?" He questioned with a monotone voice.
"... Sure." Edric shrugged.
Ser Mandon forced a smile that looked akin to that of a deranged and sadistic murderer. It reminded Edric a little bit of the creepypasta of Jeff the Killer. He glanced at Loras, who also looked at him as they shared similar thoughts.
"Never mind that." Edric smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Just... smile when you're happy."
"As you command."
He returned to his expressionless expression.
Edric went on to grab his heavy armour and headed out to the largest yard in the Red Keep. He proceeded to push himself through a strenuous workout session where he kept the armour on throughout. It was growing particularly tight around his entire body to the point that he felt like he was being actively squeezed.
Afterwards, he had another bath, changed into some clothes and had two armour stands placed in his bedchamber where he decorated the armours that had served him so well. He had the set of armour that won the melee of the Hand's Tourney and crushed two rebelling Kingdoms alongside the one he had used to combat the Mountain Clans of the Vale.
Observing the cut antler on his most prestigious armour set, he smiled.
'Goofy single-horned demon.'
Despite intentionally draining himself... he felt strangely invigorated and couldn't quite bring himself to sleep. Instead, he decided to grab a book about siege engines from the library and went off to the Godswood of the Red Keep.
It was almost always a serene, empty, place... almost always.
~
[Edric's POV, 1st]
Sansa Stark sat against the Godswood, seemingly knitting a... Baratheon banner. It was the royal one, a black stag crowned with gold at its neck on a golden field. There seemed to be more to it, however. Upon closer inspection, I saw strands of purple depicting lightning striking down.
Despite taking on the Serpent discipline, my heavy feet weren't exactly stealthy. She noticed me and immediately stood up, straightening herself.
"Your Grace... am I-"
"It's no trouble." I smiled, stepping forward. "Sorry if I disturbed your needlework. It looks quite good."
"Uhm..." Sansa flushed red like an embarrassed young lady would. "I meant it as a gift for you, Your Grace... but it's not finished-"
"I appreciate it." I stepped next to the Godswood and sat down beside it. "Don't stand on ceremony, my lady. I'm just here to read a little."
"..." She nodded, sitting a good bit away and picking up the sigil she was working on.
'Scorpions, catapults, trebuchets... I should expand my warband and gather a sizeable number of men to undertake these projects. Engineering could prove vital against the Others.'
I thought to myself as I read through the book.
"So... how was the Vale?" Sansa suddenly asked, breaking the ice.
I drew my attention away from the book and turned to her.
"It was quite the adventure, from all the fighting and travelling to helping some villagers improve their village. In my opinion, the Vale has far better scenery than King's Landing. Though... I am a person who naturally prefers the wilderness, so you can take that with a grain of salt."
"You helped improve a village?" Sansa blinked.
"Yeah... in the grand picture, it does seem like a waste of time, but I felt like I learned a great deal from the experience." I gave her a hint of a smile. "You could say I was living my life as a knight."
"I see... no one ever talks about that part," Sansa remarked. "All they say is how you overcame the Mountain Clans with only a band of brave knights and your Kingsguard."
"Actually... I led a few Mountain Clans for a time. Though, they were destroyed in the final battle."
"You did?" She blinked with surprise. Apparently, no one mentioned that part. "But the King working with outlaws-"
"They were my swords." I shrugged. "Were... because I never intended to keep them around. Merely, I was using them to fight each other. Not the most honourable thing, though, is it?"
"... Well..." Sansa lowered her head slightly. "You defeated them all in the end, didn't you?"
"Mhm. The number of good, lawful, men who died during that campaign was minimal. I consider that outcome more honourable than the act of using Mountain Clans is dishonourable."
"You're right." She agreed.
"Speaking of... I gained a few things along my campaign." I stood up, whistling to my falcon. It flew in rather swiftly, decelerating when it neared and landed on my hand. "This falcon is one of them."
"Oh..." Sansa's deep blue eyes lit up as she observed its white feathers. She stood up and took a closer look. "It's beautiful."
"Freedom, I call her. She likes to fly off from time to time." I smiled, rubbing its back. The falcon held its head high as it stood still and seemingly enjoyed my hand.
"Can I touch it?"
"You could try."
She slowly raised her hand to touch her head, but the bird instantly flapped its wings. Sansa retreated while I chuckled.
"Hum... I've never met a single person Freedom liked other than me." I scratched my hair. "My apologies, Sansa."
"It's alright..." Though she didn't sound upset, she did look quite disappointed.
"Naughty bird." I frowned disapprovingly, raising my hand and forcing her to fly away. "Anyway... I have a gift for you."
"You do?" The look of disappointment in her eyes faded.
No, it's not a marriage proposal...
"Close your eyes, my lady. No peeking." I instructed with a stern-ish expression, and she obeyed. "Also step forward a bit."
Afterwards, I turned my back and planted my hand into my chest - opening the Plane of Euthymia. It was getting loaded with a bunch of trash that needed cleaning. I wasn't the most organised of people, clearly... my hoarding tendencies were catching up to me.
I found what I was looking for after a few seconds and dragged it right out.
I wrapped it around Sansa and observed how well it fitted her.
'Not too shabby.'
"You can open your eyes now."
She slowly opened them, looking down on her new cloak. Her deep blue eyes slowly widened with amazement.
"This... it's shadowskin." She recognised it, blushing slightly. "Did you hunt a shadowcat for it?"
"Heh... I'd be lying if I made up some story about me heroically charging into a shadowcat's lair and fighting it in single combat." I chuckled, shaking my head. "No, it belonged to one of the chieftains. A large and strong fellow... though, I must say, it looks far prettier on you than it did him."
"..." She chuckled and smiled. "Then you fought heroically all the same."
"Mhm..." I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. "I thought it would be rude if I went on such a long journey and didn't bring anything back to my future sister."
"Sister..." Sansa muttered under her breath, almost as quiet as a mouse. I could see the slightest of frowns. "Since you were away, Margaery and I had become good friends."
"Is that so?" I smiled.
"Mn... she spoke much of Highgarden and how beautiful it was." Sansa nodded, her eyes turning away from me. "She said that once I saw it, I'd never want to leave."
Oh... the Tyrells are plotting.
"Heh, even I want to go there." I nodded.
"... She also spoke about her brother, Willas Tyrell, an educated, gentle and intelligent lord with a good heart."
"Aye... that he is." I stroked my chin. "So, they want you to marry him, do they?"
"..." She nodded, smiling slightly. However, it didn't seem like a genuine smile; rather, it was one that took effort to put on. "Since you're the King and I was left in your care, I thought it best to ask you first."
"Is this... something you want?" I asked, looking into her eyes.
She raised her eyes to look back at me before replying;
"Is it... something you'd want?"
Her look turned into a long gaze, an absent-minded one. The wind swayed, and my shoulder-length black hair followed gently. The moonlight dramatically shined over us and the heart tree.
Is it something I'd want...? Well, it could be good for the Realm in terms of unity, though it would also increase House Tyrell's influence, which comes with its own benefits and thorns. It's-
She tugged on her shadowskin cloak before stepping closer.
My eyes widened as she did something I hadn't expected at all...
She tiptoed up and grabbed my face - pressing her lips against mine.
I froze for a moment, blinking with a bewildered expression. Sansa had closed her eyes and engrossed herself in the act for several seconds before realising just what she had done.
She opened her eyes and observed my expression, withdrawing a step.
"I'm... sorry... I shouldn't have-"
She turned away in embarrassment and sped away before I could process what happened. I was left alone as Sansa's kiss remained fresh on my lips. Raiden Shogun didn't do so well in hiding her distaste. She didn't say anything about it, however.
That... was my first kiss with a girl. (The one with the blonde doesn't count. Drunk me is different.)
I had never thought it would happen today, nor was I particularly seeking it out. Nor did I ever think it would be Sansa, of all people... but it was. It was sudden, strangely sweet. When she stood up to me, it felt as if I had seen a glimpse into her heart and realised the feelings that she harboured for me.
I don't know what I had done to charm her so much... but I knew those feelings wouldn't wash away easily. Perhaps never.
Ultimately, I instinctively wiped my mouth with my sleeve as I used to when my mother would kiss me on the cheek.
'What do I even do about this...'
I sighed, shaking my head.
I had plenty to think about as I called it a night and headed to bed.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone