Chapter 33 (Revamped)
(Varys, Pentos)
Varys went over the reports and messages sent by his little bird.
The Ironborn were about to launch an all-out attack on Westeros, targeting major ports such as Lannisport, Seagard, and even Sunspear.
It was clear to anyone who studied their history that the reduction in raids recently, the sighting of Ironborn in forested areas, including the lands beyond the wall, and reports of ships slinking throughout the northern coast, searching for wood to be cut. All pointed towards them building up their fleet in preparation for an attack.
He was aware of this plan of theirs since Quellon's death, the man apparently having fallen from one of the bridges. Suspicions ran through his mind. Who could've orchestrated such an event? Baelon and Victarion, despite their differences, would never plot such a thing against their father, and Aeron was too carefree and had been reportedly in the Great Hall at the time.
This left the most mysterious of the Greyjoys, Euron… a man who was unpredictable by nature and even Varys dared not send his little bird down his way. They never came back, not in one piece at least.
Since becoming the Master of Whisperers to Aerys, his role had been to weaken the Red Dragons and their hold over their Kingdoms. Fanning the flames of the mad king's paranoia, ruining the plans of Rhaegar and his cronies, and driving a wedge between the mad dragon and the old lion.
It was unfortunate that Daemon had been too young to walk, let alone lead an army.
Even he hadn't expected everything to end up as it did. He'd always felt something off about the prince, but starting a war over a mad prophecy… truly how far had the red dragon fallen.
Weakening Westeros had been a remarkably easy task, whispering false information here and there, making Aerys suspicious of his son, of his most powerful ally, and of his court.
Varys had contemplated marrying his sister off to Rhaeger, but that had been shelved after his fat friend had claimed her for himself. No doubt Aerys would never allow his son to wed a tarnished bride.
Oh, how Vary's seethed when he found out that the Baratheon Lord had been so close to his late sister's locations, only for it to be ruined because of the cheesemonger's lust.
Everything could have been solved so seamlessly, then and there…
Perhaps the gods themselves were enraged, for Steffon Baratheon and his wife met their demise soon after, in front of their sons he would later find out.
Tragic, but immensely beneficial as it sent Aerys into a spiral of madness and unpredictability. Spurning Tywin again, he wed his daughter to the 'weakest' Kingdom, further infuriating his own lords who remained distrustful of the Martells.
For good reason too, the Martells had always intended to put their blood on the Iron Throne, since their treachery of the Young Dragon.
Everything had been in place, the Targayens having lost a significant portion of their hold over Westeros, its heirs 'tainted' by the blood of the Martells and the continuous insults and distrust levied on its most powerful lords. A few decades and Westeros was ripe for the taking.
Only for Rhaegar to upend everything by 'abducting' Robert's betrothed, and for Aerys to be Aerys in his response to it all.
Her stupid mutt of a brother who should've just stayed in the fucking Riverlands and wed the fish. Instead, he had to be impulsive in his reaction. If it had happened during Daemon's majority, then it would have made the perfect time to invade. Alas, it had not.
The recent changes in Riverlands had concerned him. These 'projects' Erlend had implemented were nearing completion. The once-divided Riverlands had become a genuine powerhouse all on its own, supported by the stalwart Valemen who near-worshipped the ground that the Mudd walked on.
It frustrated him that what little he could get from there, was 'how good lord Erlend looked' or 'how wise he was'... he didn't want news of them sucking him off, he wanted concrete information about the ongoing projects.
Even now, he still didn't have an accurate report of how many men the Banners had under their command. Previously it had been assumed to be about 20,000 - 25,000 men, but now rumors ranged from 30,000 to 50,000.
An absurd number, considering how costly it would be for any other realm. So he had little faith in the accuracy of it all.
The game was now different, more dangerous than before.
Olenna and Kevan were predictable, anticipating their moves was easy. Doran was obsessed with seeing his ancestor's mission of subverting Westeros to be completed. Stannis and Benjen were loyal as long as it did not infringe on the safety of their family.
Every single one of them had a weakness he could exploit, their moves lay bare for him to see. Erlend Mudd though was a different type of person, he was unpredictable and ambitious. A very dangerous combination that was only matched by Euron Grejoy.
These new players were proving to be troublesome, something that kept him up late at night, trying to counter them. A slight fear niggled him at the back of his mind. Worry and doubt crept onto him, but he shrugged them off. He was confident he could come out victorious, he'd done so before.
His agent was poised in a good position to take advantage of the coming chaos.
…
(Visenya Blackfyre, GC Encampment)
Visenya Targaryen… no it was Blackfyre now, often struggled with the thought of her rebirth.
One minute she was ranting at the sheer stupidity of her sister's descendants, as she watched her idiot of a great how many times grand nephew stab his even-stupider aunt. The next she finds herself being held by a weak woman, while a wretched fat fool watches over them.
She had reacted as one normally would, when finding themselves reborn back to the world they thought they'd never return to, she cried her ass off. Which was quite embarrassing, she had to admit, at least she was a child at the time, so it was to be expected.
Thankfully, Visenya retained most of her memories, including those of what occurred after her death, having watched her House destroy itself.
It was a shame she didn't get her beloved longsword back, but at least she knew where to find it.
Sure she complained about the suddenness of the situation, but at least she had a new shot at life. Without having to deal with Aegon's nonsense or Rhaenys frivolity.
Aegon 'Broods a lot' was a cunt. Granted she wasn't all that better, but the man had barely cared for her, even as a sibling. Apparently, he'd been jealous of her during their childhood, a deep sense of inferiority or something as Rhaenys put it.
It didn't help how obvious it was to everyone how he favored their younger sister and actually loved her, something that he withheld from her.
When Rhaenys died, whatever love they held for each other, as small as it was, had disintegrated into nothingness. Perhaps that was why she had spoiled Maegor so much, considering Aegon continued to be a disappointment as a father, just as he had been as a husband.
Too bad the brat became just as much of a disappointment as his father had been after her death. His successor was better but the fool ruined everything just before his death.
Aegon wasn't there for her when she needed him the most, so was it a wonder they barely spoke to each other after Rhaenys death?
You'd think things would get better in the afterlife, once they were all reunited. Yeah No… The bastard followed Rhaenys like a lost puppy, wherever she went, he would be there beside her. It was frankly sickening.
"Oh, I'm going to spend time with Rhaenys, or I can't spend time with you… Rhaenys needs me to do this." Visenya mocked her former husband out loud. "Fucking limp-dicked bastard."
Both in life and death she had been loyal to Aegon, but did he appreciate her efforts, no. She was too cruel, she was too proud, and she was being too much of a bitch. Complain. Complain. Complain. That's all the fucker ever did when he wasn't pining over their sister.
Then again her older sister in this timeline had effectively done the same till she croaked in the birthing bed.
'So how do I get the smug brown-eyed incubus back into my bed once again.' Ah yes Erlend Mudd, the only man to ever beat her, the only one who caught her eyes in both lifetimes.
"Why shouldn't I? Rhaenys and Aegon had each other, so why can't I have my own man?" Visenya reasoned to herself.
She wanted to have that anomaly for herself, unfortunately, he was married now, though that didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.
She had gotten to him first, his heart would always be dominated by her no matter what those bimbos did, something Visenya was confident in. She didn't need to pop out a brat or a fancy title to confirm that.
Speaking of anomalies, this world was vastly different from hers, although events in Westeros largely went the same, Essos had both changed and at the same time remained the same.
It was a very confusing mess of things.
The Mudds surviving had such a profound effect, that even the usually recluse Yi Ti was somewhat dragged into this shitfest. Hell, they somehow became the driving force behind Braavos's existence, which was certainly mind-boggling, especially with how much power that gave them or more precisely 'him'.
She wanted Erlend, she wanted him the moment she had laid eyes on him and even more so when they tasted each other for the first time. It had only gotten worse the more they went at it, like rabbits in heat.
Unfortunately, he fucked off to Westeros, the kingdom she barely wanted anything to do with. It was something they both agreed on early on, seeing that he was saving their arses, the least those fuckers in the west could do was bow their sniveling heads to him.
Regardless of her personal feelings on that continent, This was a second chance at life and she would be damned if she didn't pursue the man she had fallen in love with.
Fuck Her Brother, Fuck Her Sister, and if they were somehow watching her then, "You can fuck right off you silver-haired cunts." She said out loud, conveniently ignoring her own hair.
She observed as smoke rose in the distance. The familiar sounds of despair and wailing could be heard.
'Oh… I forgot I was in the middle of a battle.'
…
(Elia Martell, Firmridge)
Elia walked through the spacious streets of the settlement that had been growing around Firmridge. With her was her daughter and little Edmund.
They were on their weekly walk around the settlement.
Major Mya, the woman who had saved her and Rhaenys, followed closely behind. A team of royal guardsmen was stationed around them.
She and her contingent had been promoted after their task was done. Mya and a few had chosen to 'come out of the shadows' as Erlend called it and 'embrace the light.'
She was now one the highest ranking Officers within the Royal Guard, formerly known as the Household Guard, which had swelled in numbers from five hundred to about fifteen hundred.
Her lover had his peculiarities, tending to be melodramatic when the occasion struck. Not the worst oddity to have by any means.
It felt pleasant being able to see this settlement expand and grow, lacking the chaotic feel that King's Landing had, there was also a distinct lack of shit to be smelt. According to the city planners, it would be a decade or more before it would become a full-fledged city.
The residential districts were situated in their areas, kept away from the hustle and bustle that filled shops and markets. Giving them a quieter feel. Of course, they were all separated in their zones, such as one for the nobility and another for the growing 'gentry' class as Erlend called them.
This new class, though unofficial, largely consisted of officers and wardens who had proven themselves in the Conquest and had become more influential over the years, especially around the Riverlands.
There was some fuss raised by the nobility, but it was quieted down over the fact that a lot of them were marrying into the Houses of widowed ladies and heiresses who sought natural deterrents for the snakes that sought to snatch their inheritance.
Making them pseudo-nobility, since most of the power remained with the Lady, instead of being transferred over.
Erlend explained that the reason they were more accepting of this was the fact that a lot of these gentry fellows came from well-to-do families in the Twilight Isles. A significant portion of which could trace back their lineage to second and third sons of Westerosi nobility.
That wasn't always the case, since quite a few of the smallfolk who had been part of the levies during the war had shown merit and were also regarded as being part of the gentry.
Elia assumed the main reason most lords and ladies were accepting of this was because the gentry class mainly stemmed from those who earned martial glory in battle and marriage candidates were needed as a lot of lords and noblemen had died in the wars.
If it had been copper counters or merchants, she did not doubt that they would have resisted more harshly.
Erlend had commissioned the building of public toilets around the settlement, where strict 'health codes' had to be followed. Most didn't mind, since the baths were extremely cheap, and were considered a communal area where many friends gathered.
'Better Clean than Drunk' was a common saying among the womenfolk.
Unlike King's Landing which had been directly governed by the Small Council, Erlend had appointed a trusted steward to administrate the city with the occasional input from himself.
Officially this steward was known as a 'Mayor', the position being by appointment, like the Realm Council, Erlend's version of the Small Council. Their job was to settle disputes among residents, collect taxes, and settle the day-to-day running of the settlement. However, the more significant decisions had to be passed through Erlend before they could be implemented.
"So anything you two want to see." She asked.
"What about the new sept? I heard Dad say it was almost finished." Edmund said.
"Why would you want to see that boring old place," Rhaenys snorted at his suggestion. "Let's go visit the market, I heard they brought new things from Essos."
The two began arguing about which place would be better to visit, their bickering wasn't all that uncommon, thankfully it was more good-natured rather than malicious for the most part.
Mya interrupted the two kids, "It would be more prudent to visit the Market, your Highness." She spoke, gaining their attention.
"Why?" Questioned the Little Prince.
"The Sept, while finished outwards, is still filled with hazards, primarily the construction equipment." She explained.
Edmund sighed in annoyance at that but ultimately agreed to visit the market instead.
As they moved towards Market, the residents bowed in respect towards them. She knew that many felt indebted to Erlend for taking them in. Yes, they had to work for him for a set amount of time, yet not only were they getting paid for it… they were also provided with homes, food, and shelter.
A far cry from the lives they led before the war.
Edmund and Rhaenys waved back at them, with the smallfolk smiling in response. Elia wondered how many had cursed the Targaryens for the war, now they were smiling and cheering for Rhaenys, completely forgetting about her valyrian heritage.
She just hoped it would last.
…
(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)
Erlend turned towards his most trusted subordinates, the Feld brothers. "I take it that the Reavers have made their moves."
One was the Lord Commander of the Royal Guard and the other was the Commander of the Shadow Wardens.
The older one nodded and said, "Aye, as we've suspected, they launched attacks all over the Seven Kingdoms."
"Lannisport, Seagard, and Sunspear were all attacked as expected," Raymond spoke up next.
"Any attacks we were unaware of?" He asked.
Turning towards each other, the brothers looked annoyed at that tidbit, raising his interest. "They also tried to attack Twilight Isles, the Arbor, and Bear Island." Ellar finally said.
"That is troubling…" Erlend poured himself a cup of wine, motioning for the two to do the same.
Seating himself down he stared at the map laid out on his desk. "Who led the attacks?"
"Euron on Lannisport, Victarion on the Arbor, Aeron on Twilight, Rodrik on Seagard, Maron on Bear Island, and reportedly Balon attacked Sunspear himself," Raymond reported.
"The Ironborn are only capable of raising 20,000 men… the squids must have stripped their Islands bare to launch these attacks."
Confirming his assumption, "Holding them and keeping the Thralls in check is a skeleton army. Frankly, it's only the mental horrors they inflicted on their thralls that are keeping them in line." Raymond said.
"So far, only Sunspear and Lannisport have been remotely successful, and it was mostly limited to the burning of the fleets there and the sacking of its settlements."
"The arbor resulted in losses on both sides, but no clear victor. Bear Island had repelled them with the help of Lord Benjen who had been visiting the Island at the time. Twilight Isles resulted in the death of Aeron and the annihilation of the Ironborn fleet sent there."
A draw wasn't all that bad, it weakened the Redwynes for him enough that it would somewhat reduce their and Olenna's influence, but not to the point that his Royal Fleet would have to pick up the slack for them. He was surprised that they skipped over the Shield Isles, then again those lot were more akin to turtles than anything else.
Benjen probably sought to ward his child in Bear Island, it wouldn't be the first time a Stark was warded there.
He knew that Aeron was supposed to become a drowned priest or something, looks like he won't become a fanatic this time around.
Raymond spoke up next. "Lord Jason successfully held off Rodrik and his men long enough for our ships to trap them. None of the Reavers escaped alive, including Balon's son."
"I assume the fleet admiral gave a sufficient reason for his presence?" Erlend queried.
Ellar allowed a smirk to show on his usually apathetic face at that, "As far as everyone is concerned, it was a mere stroke of luck that our ships were there to deal the killing blow, having been sailing towards the North for Wood and other such goods."
He didn't want the nobility to realize he was aware of the ironborn's plans. It would destroy whatever goodwill he'd accumulated if they knew he'd allowed the ironborn to get away with their attacks.
His Dragons might keep them at bay for a while if they found out, but it would guarantee a rebellion in the future. Thankfully that was unlikely to be revealed.
Only those he trusted knew, and Erlend intended for it to be kept that way.
…
Alongside the initial large-scale attacks were various skirmishes launched in its aftermath. Where longships sailed it wouldn't be long before villages found themselves plundered.
The Riverlands remained safe, as the Banners were directed to securing the Western coast. The Vale and the eastern shores were guarded by the Royal Fleet.
Aeron's death and his fleet's devastating defeat had apparently been enough to keep them away.
Stannis, Mace, and Benjen had immediately raised their men when he called for them. Tyrion aka Kevin and Doran were far slower in response but had to cave in if only to repay the humiliation of their defeats at the hands of Balon and Victarion.
Oberyn as usual would be leading the Dornish forces and would meet up with Mace, Stannis, and Kevan at Lannisport. His Royal Fleet, Redwyne Fleet, and the combined ships of the Western Shore should be more than enough to ferry them over to the Islands.
Their goal was to take Great Wyk, Old Wyk, and Saltcliffe.
His Banners, Riverlands, Vale, and the Northern forces would meet up at Seagard where they would be transported by his now Western Fleet towards Harlaw.
Their goal is Harlaw, Blacktyde, and Orkmont.
Since he could read the tomes found within the Summerswind Manors library, Erlend had sought the extinction of this culture.
The sheer destruction they had wrought upon Westeros over their entire existence showed that they were a plague, one that somehow remained persistent despite all odds.
Westeros had always been too divided to properly deal with them and when they finally had enough unity to do so. Their King was either unwilling to do so, or unable to do anything, restrained by political factors.
Erlend intended to take things into his own hands and if anyone had a problem with it, then they could talk to Ardent.
Truthfully, he had initially been alarmed by their disregard for his Dragons. There were even some suspicions in his mind that Euron might have gotten his hands on a Dragon horn somehow.
Perhaps that was the reason they were so confident in their rebellion, regardless it didn't matter if they did, thanks to Visenya, Erlend was well aware of their limitations.
He held no mercy for a culture that glorified rape and enslavement.
'You reap what you sow.' The Ironborn may not sow, but their actions would certainly come to haunt them.
That is if there are any of them left.
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