*000000*

(Braavos)

In a reasonably sizable room, sat a group of very worried and influential individuals, discussing the recent events that had occurred within the Sunset Kingdoms.

The Iron Islands had fallen and their attacks provoked a swift and devastating response from the mainland. If word from their spies were to be believed then more than half of the noble houses that ruled the Isles were now rendered extinct.

Now the infamous Isles were under Mudd's control and they were no closer to being secure.

It was a gamble giving so many resources to the Ironmen. A failed one at that, since they would not be getting any of it back, not to mention there was still the risk of their involvement being leaked to the Mudd King.

No doubt, he'd be after their heads soon enough.

"Those savages couldn't even do one job right." Someone said.

"They were foolish to go against a united Realm." Another pointed out.

"It shouldn't have been united in the first place. Why haven't any of those pissants rebelled? What the hell is the Waynwood whore doing?" Was the response from the first.

"Indeed, I'm afraid we erred a bit on that. The Ironborn attack merely reinforced his rule, not weakened it." Agreed one of the attendees.

"Why haven't the Targaryen loyalists done anything? They could've stirred something up, this was their best opportunity to do so."

"There was no need, eventually the Dragon Princess would marry the heir. They probably saw no reason to cause problems that would put them at risk for little gain. She would become Queen either way." Explained one.

"Forget the Targaryen, did the horn work?"

"No, my men have also mentioned that it might have the unintended effect of turning its user mad."

"Euron Greyjoy was already mad, he merely became worse once his plans fell apart before his eyes."

"What were you idiots thinking giving that lunatic a means to control Dragons?"

"It didn't work, so it doesn't matter."

"And if it did? You expect us to ignore the fact that you allowed the trade of what could have brought disaster upon us by a madman."

"I merely facilitated a trade. No more, no less."

"You shouldn't have given the horn, you should have brought it to us instead. Not like the Cheesemonger would be able to do anything about it."

"As I previously said, it did not work, so there would be no point in bringing it here."

"That's enough!" The head of the table silenced those arguing. "Giving them the horn was a mistake. The Ironmen relied on it too much, making it so that the damage they did to the Sunset Kingdom was smaller in scale than it should have been."

"What do you mean minor? Sunspear and Lannisport were devastated. It will take years before I can recover from that."

"I agree, who told them to attack those two in particular? They were the best hope we had at inciting a rebellion, instead, they were weakened, it's doubtful if they'll make a move now."

"I believe it was the mad Kraken who our friend is very acquainted with."

"..."

"It doesn't help that both are ruled by Great lords whose loyalty in Erlend was quite loose."

"So we helped weaken potential allies, is what I'm understanding."

"Exactly."

An audible sigh escaped the Heads mouth. His annoyance with the whole situation comes out. "It will take a long while before both cities recover. We can expect a decrease in trade then."

"We can afford it. Profits can still be made"

"That's if the Triarchy doesn't start forcing their tolls on us again." One voice pointed out.

"Whose Idea was it to support its existence?"

All eyes turned toward the same man who facilitated the trade of the Dragonhorn. The man looked nervous at their stares, well aware of the mess he'd caused by helping push for the recreation of the Triarchy.

It had seemed a brilliant idea in his mind initially. Only after its completion did he realize the mistake he made by doing so. Braavos now had to deal not only with Mudd and Volantis but also a fledgling powerhouse in the form of a united three daughters.

What was worse was that he'd lost a lot of wealth by doing so. Convincing the right people hadn't been easy, and now he also had to deal with the anger of his fellows who didn't appreciate having to deal with even more problems on top of their existing ones.

The Triarchy had been an infamous powerhouse in its heyday, one that posed a genuine threat to their interests. Instead of calling on the Mudds to do something about them, the Sealord had foolishly sought out Corlys Velaryon to weaken the Three Daughters.

The Mudds had warned the Sealord that no moves had to be made and that the Three Daughters would eventually tear itself apart from the inside; his refusal to heed their warning backfired on him.

That was a mistake that still haunts the late Sealords family to this day, their reputation and prestige having been brought low by it and their wealth rendered non-existent, it also ended up costing Braavos greatly in the process and achieving nothing it sought aside from wasting precious resources and gold.

"What about Volantis, it should be making a move soon?" Someone asked.

"They're dealing with another slave riot." one answered him.

"That's the 4th one this year. Shouldn't they be cracking down on them?" An annoyed voice stated.

"They did. It didn't work."

"Inbred fools, can't even do the one thing they're good at right."

"Indeed."

The lack of sympathy for the slaves on their part displeased some of those attending, though they chose to remain silent. It was no secret among the upper echelons that more than a few of the Braavosi merchant princes here benefited greatly from the slave trade.

While many publicly championed the cause of freeing the slaves within this continent, quite a few of those who did so, secretly profited from it. It wasn't something many dared talk openly about, the last person to do so had been disposed of and their family sold into slavery.

The Mudds were well aware of this and had worked hard to stomp it out. Their failure in doing so lay in the fact that they didn't have enough power, with so many powerful figures working against them both inside and outside Braavos, it was a near-impossible task.

Erlend Mudd presented the greatest threat to them since Aryan the 'Dragonslayer'. The former had gathered more than enough power and influence to take control of Braavos, while the latter had the wealth, popularity, and a sizable armed force to back him.

Both had intended to take direct control of Braavos, one had died before he could put his plans into motion thankfully, whereas the other was distracted by his Westerosi ambitions.

It was why they had plotted with Aerys to launch an attack on the Twilight Isles. With Tywin out of the way, it was nearly guaranteed that they would be able to convince the paranoid king to do so.

Unfortunately, they did not count on the son being just as mad as the father.

(A/N: A little bit of background for you, showing why they're so persistent in wanting Erlend gone since he originally intended to take Braavos first.)

"We could use Pentos to take down the Triarchy." One suggested.

"How exactly do you propose that?"

"They're being pressured to bring back the slave trade at the moment." He explained.

"If they do so, it would cut into our profits."

With slavery officially being banned in Pentos, the Pentoshi merchants had been forced to turn to Braavos for different trades that could make them profit, something that greatly benefited those in the room.

"You don't understand…"

"Then explain it to me you fool."

"If Pentos is to reinstate the slave trade within its territory, it would earn the ire of the Mudd."

"Once he deals with them, he'll go after the Triarchy who caused the issue in the first place."

"..."

Those gathered frowned, though it would deal with the Triarchy without them having to lift a finger.

The problem was that it would also end up bringing the Mudd's attention back to Essos, something they also did not want.

"We'll vote on the matter at a later date." The head finally spoke, turning his attention to a specific person. "Now we have to deal with the fool in our presence who nearly cost us greatly," he said.

All eyes shifted to the man who facilitated the trade of the Dragonhorn and the rise of the Triarchy. Judging on just how much they could gain from him.

…

(???)

Tears dripped down her face.

Afraid and lost, she looked around her, seeking her brother who came and went as he pleased.

Once their caretaker passed away, he'd become more and more angry, taking what little coin they could scrounge up and blowing them away at pleasure houses in an attempt to escape their situation.

She cried for the lost days, for the home that brought her comfort and safety. The home was stolen from them by the servants, who took all they could from them before sending them off to the streets.

Away from the house with the red door.

Her caretaker's death had sent them wandering throughout Essos. Guests to powerful people who showcased them to their friends and family before kicking them out once again.

Sometimes it was because of her brother, fear of the usurper, or they simply got bored of them. They never stayed in one place for long, Braavos had only been safe at the beginning. The three daughters were where they fled next, followed by Valyria's first daughter.

Each city would welcome them and each city would see them lose a possession once their patrons got tired of them. Still, they persisted, her brother taught her what he could of their original home, the lands they held, the titles they bore, and the legacy they boasted.

He taught her to take pride in their heritage.

Yet, here he was, only days after selling their mother's crown, whoring and gambling on what they had gotten from it. It was frustrating, infuriating even, yet she feared awakening the dragon, so she spoke not against his actions.

Keeping quiet just as he taught her to.

Once the money ran out, she knew the insults would come, the violent beating, the rage he showed as he blamed her for it all.

She took it quietly, for there was nothing she could do. She didn't know if he even loved her anymore. The kind and loving brother she remembered was gone, just like her caretaker.

He would often remind her of Rhaenyra and Aegon, how if he had a dragon, she would meet the same fate as their ancestor.

A shuddering breath escaped her lips, as she did her best to stem off the tears running down her face. She had to stay strong, not for her brother who hated her, but for her caretaker who sacrificed everything just to ensure their safety.

The blood of the dragon ran through her veins, it was not time yet.

…

A loud gasp escaped Daenerys lips as she awoke suddenly. Memories of times that shouldn't exist came unbidden.

Laying there she contemplated all that had occurred, past struggles rearing up only to be squashed away by the feeling of love she felt for her mother and him.

This world was so different, yet so alike at the same time. People who should be dead were alive and those who lived were dead.

She had gone through all the tomes she could about the history of this mysterious world she found herself in. The change that truly stood out could be traced back to the Andal Conquests, one House that shouldn't have survived… did, and it changed everything.

Her advisors might have thought themselves clever, that she would trust their every word and take their words for granted. But she didn't, she learned all she could when she first landed in her ancestral home.

The atrocities her father committed, the actions of her brother, and the way Westeros viewed their family.

She was thankful that the middle Baratheon brother or Lord Durrandon as he was known in this world had been granted Dragonstone in her previous world, at least he ensured that the library was filled with tomes that narrated the truth, or as close as one could get to it.

Her reaction to it all, she didn't care. It changed nothing, it only convinced her even more that the chains that clasped Westeros had to be broken.

Change that he was slowly forcing down the throats of these bastards. There were no foolish advisors around him as there had been around her.

He did what she should have done, consolidated his power within this continent before making any rash moves, looking at the bigger picture as he so often liked to say.

Yes, her conquest of Westeros had gone well initially, but the cracks hadn't taken long to show. The treachery and the foolishness of her advisors, the distrust and even blind hatred the northerners showed her, and the incompetence of those around her.

Was it a wonder she snapped and decided to just burn it all?

Even now she could see his plans in motion, the Riverlands so different from what she had seen and read about in her previous world. Already she could see signs of it becoming a fortress kingdom in its own right. Even without Dragons, the Riverlands was now one of the most secure Regions in all of Westeros.

"So what if we don't have natural barriers against invasion like the North or the Vale, We'll just make our own." His words ran through her mind once more.

She admired him truthfully, he was everything she had aspired to be and more. Was it wrong to want him, maybe, but she had stopped caring for the opinions of others a long time ago?

There was one small issue, he was married and in a relationship with several other women, her mother included.

Of course, there was also the fact that she was physically far younger than him, but that could be taken care of in time, a minor detail.

Speaking of her mother, Rhalla was someone she both loved and hated in equal proportions. This was the woman who gave birth to her in this world just as in the last and showered her with love since she came into this world.

Yet she was also the woman who Viserys used to justify abusing her, blaming her for her death. Making her first childhood as miserable as it could be.

That was only a small part of why she hated her mother. No, truthfully she hated the fact that her mother was in a relationship with the man she loved, the man she cared for more than anyone in her past life.

The man who she wanted to emulate but also be treasured by.

Was it wrong… She didn't care. She was a dragon. If she could, she would kill them all. Be the only woman in his life.

There wasn't anything wrong with that. He deserved far better than some washed-up old hags. Ditzy women who didn't know the harshness of the world.

She should be his Queen, not some redheaded hag who cowered in her family's keep, while Westeros burnt itself to the ground.

At least her imbecile of a brother was useful this time around and made it easier for her King to conquer this wretched Kingdom.

'The Last Dragon they call him, as if.' She snorted in disgust.

A warm feeling encompassed her as she remembered the times Erlend would hug her to sleep. When he would sing short lullabies to her so she could sleep better, it was like the nightmares would vanish in his presence.

Granting her peace that she never knew in her old life.

So engrossed she was, that she completely ignored the fact that both Rhaenys and Edmund were also being sung to.

When he would comfort her every time she got hurt, it was near euphoric. She wanted to keep that, she wanted to keep him.

A vicious and mad smile was on her face when the thought of him holding her came to mind. Perhaps she would burn them all to ensure she would never lose him.

The moment anyone stepped out of line she would strike, any who dared defy her Erlend would suffer.

Daenerys Stormborn for once felt truly happy, and she refused to fail again.

(Anya Waynwood, Ironoaks)

An exhausted Anya Waynwood sat within her solar.

Irritation was visible on her face, her eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep. Ever since that fucking King had declared that his bastard by Lysa would inherit the Vale, she had been both furious and ecstatic.

More the former rather than the latter truth be told.

She had hoped that she would be able to use the subsequent outrage coming from that decision to rally support for Harrold's claim.

That came undone once she realized that a significant portion of those she hoped to rely on were either dead, too young, or too loyal to the blasted King. Not to mention the significant amount of bastards that now ruled amongst her fellow lords.

'Bastards surround me from all sides.' The thought constantly runs through her mind much

Frustration bubbled within her, as she tried to come to terms with the changed reality she now lived in. It felt like everything was coming undone since that miserly old man betrayed the rebels.

She had hoped that Harrold would show some signs of being a true Arryn, he had the looks and pride at least, but unfortunately, her cousin had somehow managed to fuck that up.

She knew Arryns tended to be too proud, as one of the purest Andal lines in Westeros, it was to be expected. Jon Arryn had been just as proud, if not more so during his younger years, though that had been tempered by marriage and age.

Losing his wives and kin one after the other had shattered any pride or arrogance left within the old falcon.

Harrold had managed to offend quite a few Valemen when he loudly complained about the looks of a lord in comparison to his wife.

"How can that horse-faced drunk be wed to such a dainty flower?" Those were his exact words. The Hunter heir was not pleased with the reckless fool.

This was only days after she had gotten news that her son Donnel was killed in a tragic hunting accident. It was during the funeral that Harrold had managed to offend the Hunter heir, who had been passing by and wanted to pay his condolences when he had gotten word of the incident.

He and his posse had swiftly left shortly after, not before punching the young falcon to unconsciousness. The apologies she sent him did nothing to soothe his rage.

It was a complete mess. An unavoidable one at that.

Ever since Erlend had completed his projects within the Riverlands and secured his borders, he had been focusing his attention on the rest of Westeros, particularly the Vale, which he declared that his bastard son would inherit.

Predictably, there was some outrage at that. Which she then used to elevate Harrold's position, but it was far smaller than she had expected.

The combination of the loyalty many Vale lords held to Erlend, Royce's support, and the several legitimized bastards who owed their positions to him, gave the King more than enough leverage to secure his natural-born's position as heir.

There were also those blasted 'Gentry' who couldn't be ignored. 'Military' Men are what they called themselves, those who gained much power from marrying into landed widows and heiresses.

Thankfully Essos had been causing quite a fuss, turning the King's attention from the mountains. Something she took immediate advantage of as Erlend shifted his focus to the free cities.

She had gotten an interesting offer from both Pentos and Braavos. They promised gold, gold which she could use to bribe the greedier lords to her side, and promises of martial support should she raise an army against Erlend.

Of course, she wasn't stupid enough to take it, she didn't want Ironoaks to follow Pyke. Instead, the offer changed from open rebellion to quietly destabilizing Mudd's position in the Vale.

They hoped that Erlend could be dissuaded from making a decisive move in the short term.

Using the heir's status as a former bastard had provided her with a somewhat valid cause to rally the lords to her side, but the Royces blocked her at every turn. Both Nestor and Yohn refused to budge an inch on the matter. It didn't help that the brat's mother Lysa had been shoring up support for her son.

With that failing, she decided to use the Mountain Clans instead, bringing up the fact that Erlend had been too late to suppress the rebellion and that it was his Uncle Lorimas who had done most of the job.

Attempting to cause a divide between the two Mudds. That hadn't gone over very well, Lorimas himself killing the man she set up to take the blame for spreading the news.

It was a bloody affair, one which allegedly earned Erlend's amusement if rumors were to be true. So she jumped on that, painting him as the second coming of Maegor, who took pleasure in the suffering of his subjects.

There was some support for that, the man had not bothered to hide away the fact that he single-handedly wiped out several noble lines in the Greyjoy Incursions after all.

Unfortunately, she expected too much from her fellow lords, who beyond complaining and muttering, were unwilling to voice their opposition loudly. The cowardice they showed was ridiculous.

Still, she persisted, she wanted an Arryn with Waynwood blood reigning over the Eyrie… No, rather she wanted Waynwood blood to reign over the Vale.

It wasn't easy for a woman to rule, at least not before the rebellion. If it wasn't for the support of her Uncle Elys, her distant cousins would likely have forced her to wed one of them and cede control over Ironoaks.

She wanted to repay the man for his support, and what better way than to have his blood ruling the Vale?

…

Going over the last parchments, she raised her head as a polite knock could be heard on the solar's Door.

"My Lady, Ser Wallace requests entry." One of the guardsmen said.

"Allow him in." She responded.

The door opened suddenly, letting in her youngest son.

"'What is it, Wallace? Is Harrold acting up again?" She asked.

In a deadpan voice, "I merely wanted to talk Mother." Wallace said quietly.

Raising her eyebrow at his tone, she turned to look at her son. His usually stern eyes looked vacant, almost absent. As if he wasn't truly there with her.

"Are you alright Wallace?" Unease filled her. She had already lost a son, fearing that her youngest might have caught something or that he was in danger.

"I'm perfectly fine, mother." His voice remained impassive.

Genuinely worried for her son, She rose and moved towards him. "No… You are not fine, we should take you to the Maester." Anya insisted.

"We are pushing to put Harrold on the High Seat when King Erlend made clear his natural-born son was to be the next Lord." Wallace suddenly pointed out, taking her by surprise and stopping her midstep.

Flustered by the sudden statement, "A bastard cannot reign over us." Anya said, she had already made this clear to her children before, there was no reason to bring it up again.

"Yet, Harrold would not make for a good Lord."

"His blood is purer."

"His blood is as red as everyone else."

"That's enough Wallace. You're a grown man, start to act like it."

"I'm sorry mother, but I must insist on your true reasoning."

Letting out a loud sign, Anya stared at her still vacant-eyed son. "Power… Wallace. That's the true reason." She said, exasperated with whatever had come over her child.

"I see." He responded.

"Now, will you go see the Maester?" She demanded, only a foot away from her oddly behaving son.

"I'm perfectly fine mother, I already told you."

Anya frowned at her son's words, he did nothing as she placed her hands on his face, trying to perceive what was wrong with him.

"I'm perfectly fine, mother." He repeated.

Before stepping forward and grabbing the dagger by his side. Faster than she could react, Wallace stabbed her straight to her heart, as she looked at him in shock and horror.

"Standing firm." were his words to her as she crumbled into his arms.

Confused and terrified at the implications of her son's words. The words of House Mudd.

How? When? Why?

His stony eyes remained on hers as he held her close to him, holding her closely in his arms, unflinching as she looked at him with confusion.

She wanted to understand what was happening. Why did her son betray her? Had he also killed Wallace?

Would her eldest follow her next? What did this all mean?

He stayed there watching her, her eyes beginning to fade while he held her close, the dagger still in his arms, as banging could be heard from the entrance of her solar.

'It wasn't supposed to be like this.'

…

(Tyrion Lannister, Casterly Rock)

"I see you're hard at work again, Nephew." Uncle Gerion voiced as he entered the solar.

"Uncle, It's good to see you back. How was your trip?" Tyrion looked surprised that Gerion had returned so soon.

"As well as could be expected lad," Gerion responded.

With so many eyes focused on the Iron Islands and its future, Tyrion has asked his Uncle to discreetly travel through the Riverlands and find out what exactly their 'King' was up to.

They had heard tales of the massive projects the King had been undertaking and rumors of its completion shortly before the attacks; he wanted to know if any of it could be useful for House Lannister.

Now that his Uncle was back, he hoped to get a better understanding of what exactly the Royal Family sought to achieve with these changes of theirs.

"It's best we wait for Genna and Kevan to arrive. I'm afraid we'll need their thoughts on this matter." Gerion said.

"Is it that important?" Tyrion asked.

Looking uncharacteristically grave, "Unfortunately Yes." Gerion said.

Tyrion frowned, his Uncle was by far the most cheerful of the family and to see him so grave, felt off. Whatever he found, it didn't bode well for their family. At the least it meant trouble was brewing.

Aunt Genna was the first to enter, giving her brother a firm hug before kissing his cheek and seating herself on one of the seats.

Directly contrasting her previous actions and before either of the pair could react, she smacked her brother in the head, "Honestly, what were you thinking sneaking like that, into the Royal Domain no less." She scolded her brother as if he was an errant child and not the grown man he actually was.

His Uncle Kevan was next, followed by Tygett and Stafford who was the only one to greet Gerion warmly.

Whilst Kevan and Tygett glared at their brother almost immediately. Tygett expressed his opinion more clearly by punching his brother in the chest, sending the most carefree of the lions onto the ground.

"Yeah… I deserved that." He groaned in pain.

"What in seven hells were you thinking Gerion," Tygett exclaimed.

Stafford looked on, baffled by the actions of his kin. The man was unaware of what exactly Gerion had been up to, which was intentional on Tyrion's part. His Uncle couldn't exactly keep a secret if his life depended on it.

"That's enough." Kevan stopped Tygett before the two could get into a brawl. "While it was incredibly foolish of you and Tyrion to make such a daring move. I'm just glad you're safe."

"I can feel the love brother," Gerion said jokingly only to receive a sharp look from his eldest brother.

"I take it that you have some information for us."

Gerion nodded at them, "Indeed I do."

"Than out with it." Genna prodded impatiently, not one for dramatics.

"When I first entered the Riverlands, the most obvious change I noticed was the paved roads, linking all the major holds within the Kingdom."

"Paved roads? That hardly seems all that troublesome." Stafford pointed out.

"Quite the opposite Stafford. Paved roads allow for better trade and swifter movement of an army. Why do you think Tywin was so insistent on maintaining our roads?" Tygett answered his cousin.

"Still, that doesn't seem that problematic." The man still looked skeptical.

"During peacetime, it allows for smoother trade and travel. Which would be attractive to merchants, that means a lot of gold passes through the Riverlands just for that trait alone." Kevan said.

Tyrion agreed with that, merchants would no doubt insist on routes that go through the Riverlands when traveling through Westeros just for the security it provided. When passing through they're more likely to spend their coin there, which would earn the Riverlands a reasonable profit, and that's if they didn't simply insist on setting up trade there.

"In war, they could also be better able to move their armies from one location to another. Allowing them to quickly respond to any potential enemy in a matter of weeks rather than months as is the norm." Tygett added.

"The Royal Banners are already the most powerful army in Westeros. This just made them more dangerous." Gerion sighed. "There's another issue too."

Kevan motioned for his brother to continue, "The five fortresses project." Gerion said.

"The What?"

"Five fortresses have been built around the Riverlands. Guarding key entry points into the Kingdom. The Twins, Blackwater (King's Landing), Stoney Sept, Stoneyhead, and Fieldstone"

"By the seven he's preparing for a potential rebellion," Genna exclaimed.

"Not necessarily, I doubt anyone is stupid enough to do so in the King's lifetime," Tygett said assuredly.

"With fools like Mace Tyrell in power, you never know." Genna deadpanned.

"I don't get it, he has Dragons, why would he need fortresses?" Tyrion questioned his Uncle curiously.

"The Targaryens lost their dragons due to their foolishness, who's to say the Mudds won't do the same?"

"Gerion makes a good point." Kevan agreed with his brother.

The Dance proved to Westeros that having those monsters as your mounts didn't mean you couldn't be vulnerable. Especially from your own people.

"That would make the Mudds their own worst enemies." Tygett looked thoughtful.

"It will be decades before any cracks show, the same happened during Viserys' reign and Jaehaerys before him," Kevan said. "What about the Royal Banners?"

"Even when a significant portion of them were sent to the Iron Islands, they still had more than enough men to man the Five Fortresses," Gerion spoke. "The only weakness I could make of it was that there was a certain lack of patrols that you would expect during peacetime."

"So bandits can still prove troublesome to them during War."

"I wouldn't recommend it though. They were pretty ruthless with those brave enough to commit banditry."

"It's still something we can use. There's bound to be someone foolish enough to do so, given the right price." Tyrion said.

No one disagreed, Gold could make even the most sensible man lose their wits. Gold and Woman.

Gerion proceeded to give everything he had gathered about the five fortresses, having visited them all. He had been unable to get too close, but what he provided gave them a general view of the significance of the forts to whatever their King planned.

"So… the King effectively turned the Riverlands into a man-made fortress," Tyrion said.

"Can't blame him, it has always been the most vulnerable of the Kingdoms," Gerion replied. "I'm sure you've also heard about the Tourney he plans to hold."

"Why didn't he hold one after the Greyjoy Incursions?" Stafford finally asked.

"Lands and titles had to be redistributed, borders altered and many people had to be returned to their homes or given new ones." Kevan sighed. "Short as it may have been, the attacks by the Ironmen all but devastated Westeros."

"It has also made the situation worse, as more bastards had to be raised up, to keep some Houses from going extinct. Hence, no one had time for a Tourney… Now that everything has been largely dealt with, there's no reason for him to hold it off any longer." Genna continued.

"I take it we'll be attending then," Tyrion said.

"Not doing so might be seen as an insult and our enemies won't hesitate to use it against us."

"Even the northerners are going to attend it. This is by far the biggest Tourney Westeros has seen since Harrenhal."

"Speaking of Harrenhal, who's going to tell Cersei that Lyanna and Elia will both be there," Tyrion smirked at his kin.

The solar was plunged into silence as everyone dreaded the Golden lionesses' reaction to that particular tidbit.

"Can't we just leave her here?" Gerion whined.

"And let her cause more damage than usual, are you mad?" Genna looked incredulously at her brother's words.

Tyrion merely shook his head at his family's antics. Not that he planned to be the one to inform his sister. No, thank you, only a fool would take such a thankless task.

(Olenna Tyrell, Highgarden)

Olenna Tyrell was annoyed, something that was becoming more common as the days passed. Much to her displeasure.

Ever since the rise of House Mudd, she had been gaining wrinkles faster than what should be considered normal. She hadn't truly felt her age till the day they sent Margaery and Janna to Firmridge.

Her favorite grandchild was in the hands of someone who had little reason to look favorably upon the Tyrells.

The only reassurances they had of their safety came from that mad maid Malora, someone not even Alerie had the utmost confidence in, which was rich, considering how the dainty thing tended to act.

While Janna did send ravens every moon turn, there was no doubt whatever was written inside of it was being reported. It was only after Alerie was allowed to visit the Mudd's seat that they gained some reassurance that the two were treated well by the Royal House.

It had taken quite a toll on her, but she held on. House Tyrell still maintained a strong position and had done its best to avoid earning the ire of the new King.

Olenna had done her best to keep watch over his movements. Trying to anticipate his every move in order to see if she could make a corresponding one that might earn the Tyrells his favor.

While not necessarily the best course of action, it would have to do at the moment.

She had gotten reports of the completion of his projects. Ones that had turned the previously unenviable position of the Riverlands into its most prominent feature. A man-made fortress that had the potential to take control of the trade flow of nearly the entire continent.

Olenna sought to exploit that potential.

She could perhaps use that to enrich House Tyrell even further. With increased security, they'd be able to sell more grain and crops to the other kingdoms more easily. Even with the destruction of the Ironborn, the threat of pirates still existed after all.

Where there was money to be made, there would always be someone there looking to steal it. That was a truth no one would be able to deny, there was also the issue of House Tyrell's regional rivals, who she knew for a fact targeted its ships and caravans that carried grain and crops.

Unfortunately, they were never able to gain enough evidence to use against them.

Olenna wasn't an idiot, she knew that it would be difficult to trace back anything of note to their enemies. Only a fool would leave behind a rope for them to hang themselves with

The Iron Islands fiasco had proved to Olenna the importance of being careful when it came to the young King. With no hesitation, the man ended entire lines that could trace their lineage further back than some of the most prideful fops that came from the reach.

Adding salt to their already grievous wounds, he had his beasts destroy the squid's ancestral home in front of its last remaining members. Seven knows what happened to Asha Greyjoy.

Apparently, it was enough to turn one mad, well more than he already was, and drove him to kill his own brother. A gruesome event that benefited the Mudd King quite significantly.

If there were any thoughts about rebellion after his crowning, this war more than likely ended it.

House Tyrell on the other hand could do better. Ever since Mace first insulted Randyll Tarly, she was wary of any retaliation from him. The man was more than popular enough to rally the quarrelsome lords of the Reach against her House.

With House Florent greatly weakened, Tarly had become their greatest worry. Sure there were the Hightowers, but those fools had set their sights on more than just the Reach as they tended to do, so she didn't care enough to worry about them.

Sure she was suspicious and weary of what exactly they were plotting with the Crown, her spies doing their best to uncover what exactly was going on. Those spies largely failed, with Leyton keeping everything close to his chest.

The only thing she gained from it was a headache.

At least her grandson Willas, the heir to the Reach, had Hightower blood in him. That should be more than enough to dissuade them from doing anything drastic.

Her grandson was truly all she could hope for. The boy had grown quite well, both physically and mentally. He had a charisma about him that both his father and grandfather lacked.

Many of the younger heirs and heiresses of the reach flocked to his side. Giving him a solid support base that could be relied on, once he ascended as Lord Paramount.

She had contemplated sending him to ward with Tarly, hoping to mend relations with the war hawk, but decided not to. It was far too risky and the man still held a grudge.

Instead, with the help of Paxter, negotiations had begun in the hopes of betrothing Willas to Talla Tarly. This staved off the stubborn resistance that the Tarly lord had been presenting since the end of the conquest.

Added was the unspoken promise that Paxter would make sure nothing happened to his nephew during the negotiations. It would be disastrous if something were to happen to the boy.

Garlan, the sweet musclehead, did his best to support his brother, the young fool proving himself quite the warrior which worked to impress the more martial inclined. The same could be said about Loras, though that boy was developing rather odd tastes that offended the sensibilities of the more conservative among the nobility.

An annoyingly familiar whine could be heard coming her way and breaking her from her thoughts.

'Mace', she sighed with irritation.

Olenna seated herself properly as the voices of her son and good daughter came close.

Alerie's irritated voice could be made out, "Mace, you cannot tell me, you just realized that now." She said with displeasure.

"But… But… Who are we going to sell our crops and grain to if not the savages." Mace whined petulantly.

"The northerners are hardly the only ones we've been trading with and it's not like they have stopped buying from us." Alerie retorted.

"Still, think of the gold we've lost. I bet those bastards are just laughing at us behind our backs."

Olenna could practically picture her good daughter Rolling her eyes at his words, "Those 'bastards' as you call them also sell to the northerners like us and are losing just as much gold."

"You don't understand dear… though it's not your fault, it can hardly be expected of a woman to know the trade," Mace spoke to her in that familiar condescending tone of his.

Silence filled the gardens at his words before a loud crack could be heard and hurried footsteps followed after. Olenna closed her eyes, as she despaired at the thought of having to fix yet another of her son's messes.

Hesitant footsteps came close, as a red-faced Mace came into view.

There was a deadpan on her face as she observed the marks of a slap on his face. Her son to his credit did his best to avoid looking at her as he sat himself down.

One of the maids quietly poured him a cup of wine, before bowing and excusing herself. Olenna merely stayed silent as she waited for the oaf to speak.

"Word has been sent that the talks were a success. The wedding has been scheduled once she's flowered." Mace prompted eagerly.

Olenna stayed silent as she stared tiredly at her son.

"The girl was quite taken with Willas. Paxter says that if all goes well, this marriage could prove fruitful." He continued.

Again, Olenna said nothing.

She had expected the talks to succeed. As angry as Tarly was, the stuck-up cunt would never forgive himself if he didn't agree to such a beneficial opportunity.

No one wanted to marry a dwarf, not when it would damage their pride. The Durrandon heir was out for anyone from the Reach. The same could be said about the Dornish snake, who had a female heir and Tarly was certainly not going to accept anything from that scorched desert.

She could imagine the succession crisis that would pop out, not to mention the unrest it would cause in both kingdoms.

The Vale's heir was of royal blood despite his birth status, but he was already engaged to a Royce. The crown prince was tied to the Dragon heiress and the North was too far and brought little immediate benefit.

Willas was Tarly's best option at being tied with a Great House that didn't see House Tarly paying too heavy a price in the process. It helped that the King seemed oddly optimistic about such a marriage, if anything she reckoned that was likely what convinced the old hawk to accept the proposal.

"At least Willas's marriage would be happier than yours." That silenced whatever Mace was going to say next. He looked pained at that reminder. "Oh get over yourself child, who told you to bring that whore to your marriage bed of all things. You could have at least have the decency to fuck the whore somewhere discreet."

The man had the sense to look ashamed at that.

Ever since Margaery and Janna had been sent to Firmridge, the relationship between Alerie and Mace had turned tense. Sure, it had mended after Erlend permitted Alerie to visit whenever she could.

Unfortunately, Mace had to make a mess of it by bringing his mistress onto their marriage bed, and by the Seven was that a surprise to her.

She knew her son wasn't a complete Oaf, at least not all the time, otherwise their lands and status as Lord Paramounts would have been in jeopardy. It must be the Tyrell blood in him, and naturally her own brilliance somehow passed on to him.

Then again to be able to hide a mistress of all things from her, certainly came as a shock. It caused quite a scandal and had undone whatever mending their relationship had been going through.

His words just now hammered in the broken nature of their marriage. Reminding her of the last few years of her own.

"I assume I won't be getting another grandchild from you then."

"MOTHER!"

…

(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)

Erlend watched on as his Grandmaester excitedly spouted off new information coming from the Citadel. The well-traveled Maester nearly gushed about all the improvements that had been introduced to their organization.

Getting the so-called 'mage' as his Grandmaester hadn't been particularly hard, Leyton had been quite excited to get the man out citadel before he could cause any more accidents with his experiments. Accidents that tended to prove costly to repair.

It was a shame the Hightower had rejected the position of Lord Paramount, Erlend trusted him far more than he did the fat oaf and his grasping mother. His House's reputation had been somewhat tainted by Dance and therefore was leery of looking overly ambitious to the rest of the Realm.

There was a bit of protest against Marwyn's appointment from the more conservative elements, but when the 'Protector of the Citadel' and the Sovereign of the continent both insisted on it, there wasn't much that could be done.

The title of Grandmaester wasn't the only thing he kept from the old regime, having decided to form his own small council, both named and modeled after its predecessor.

Small Council

Hand of the King - Yohn Royce

Grandmaester - Marwyn the Mage

Master of Laws - Eldon Estermont

Master of Coin - Wyman Manderly

Master of Provisions - Horton Redfort

Master of Whisperers - Ellar Feld

Grand Admiral (Master of Ships) - Monford Velaryon

Lord Marshal (Master of War) - Lorimas Mudd

Lord Commander of the Royal Guard - Raymond Feld

​Many of the small council members served as their predecessors had. Though there were some changes made, the Master of Whisperers for one is only known to the King. Added was the clause that no noble scion could be granted that role for the sole fact that their loyalties could be divided between their own family's interests and the king's interest.

Master of Ships still largely retained their position and duties with only a name change. The Lord Marshal was their equivalent on the ground, being able to command and direct Banner-Generals and Lieutenant Generals in times of war.

They would be in charge of making sure the Banner was properly maintained in times of peace. However, Erlend and his successors would still retain actual control over the Banners, the role of Captain-General assimilating with his title as Lord Protector.

The Lord Commander of the Royal Guard served just as his Kingsguard equivalent had done, though obviously since he had control over a much larger force, his duties were far more complex.

There was also the fact that Erlend had woven several runes and enchantments that gradually built up loyalty to the current 'King/Queen', more precisely that 'King/Queen' had to be of his bloodline. While there were many ways to get around it, that was where the Potterverse magic came into play, allowing his enchantments to be more attuned to his needs and expanding upon the initial basic premise.

Finally, the newest role would be the Master of Provisions, their duty was to ensure the maintenance of the roads, towns, and fortresses. They worked in tandem with the other Masters to ensure the security of the Kingdoms, especially from banditry and raiding.

It was by far the vaguest of roles, and that was done on purpose as Erlend intended for them to work closely with the Hand. More often than not, they had a good chance of becoming Hand, after the previous ones either died or retired.

The small council meetings were held in a specially constructed chamber, surrounded by members of the Royal Guard at all times, keeping distractions out of the area.

…

Lorimas sent an annoyed look towards the excited Marwyn, not understanding what he seemed all that worked up about.

"They're just bloody numbers." He said.

"You don't understand Lord Mudd, this is phenomenal, this could change everything we know." Marwyn did his best to explain.

"That's enough Marwyn. We have more important matters at hand." Yohn interrupted the mage before he could annoy his fellows any longer.

He was just glad that Pycelle was no longer alive, that doddering old fool wasn't the least bit trustworthy. In fact since the 'Burning' many suspected him of being a spy for Tywin, having been the one to convince the mad king to open the gates.

The spider for all his scheming was wise enough not to trust the vengeful lion.

Marwyn was a whole lot better and far more trustworthy as far as the rest of the council were concerned, though he tended to give them a headache every time he went on a tangent about some discovery or something.

"The Golden Company has been contracted to the Triarchy," Yohn announced.

"Yes, I heard that a woman calling herself Visenya is leading that particular band of mercenaries," Eldon added. "A Blackfyre perhaps?"

"There hasn't been a Blackfyre since Maelys seized the Stepstones."

"The male lines yes. The Female line not so." Marwyn stated.

"He has a point, for all we know a Blackfyre daughter must have produced her own line." Horton agreeing with Marwyn.

"How exactly was it that a woman was able to raise herself as Captain-General of the company?" Eldon asked.

"There was some opposition to her rise, mainly from that coward Strickland. Last I heard his body was in a ditch somewhere." Raymond spoke up for the first time.

"You're familiar with her I take it?"

Raising his hand, Erlend silenced the chambers, "A proud and arrogant woman, yet few were able to match her both in skill and battle. Her position is well-earned you can be sure of that." Erlend said.

"Your Majesty, surely we should be cautious of her. A Blackfyre is no small matter."

"She presents no threat to us. Her kin on the other hand are the ones you should truly be worried about."

"Kin? There are more?" Yohn looked worried.

Erlend nodded towards his hand before Lorimas spoke. "The dickless bald bastard was a Blackfyre pretender."

"Varys?" There were exclamations of shock by most of those present with only Feld looking unbothered by that tidbit, as one of Erlend's closest confidants, he was aware of many things most knew little about.

The most disbelieving was Monford, who had served the mad king alongside Varys.

His appointment as Grand Admiral had been mostly political in nature since Erlend had no other candidate who was either trustworthy or capable enough to head the Royal Fleet. That didn't mean the Admirals below didn't watch him clearly and report any movement on his part to Erlend.

It was a decision made mainly out of practicality and would tie the narrow lords close to him. It helped that Rhalla wholeheartedly backed Erlend, hence why House Velaryon and their fellow Crownlanders remained docile despite their initial resistance.

"Did he not perish during the 'Burning'?" Yohn looked surprised.

"Come on Yohn, do you believe someone like that would have no way to escape?" Lorimas rolled his eyes.

"It makes sense I suppose. The mad king only got worse once he arrived." Horton frowned, "What was his plan anyway?"

"Destabilise the Kingdoms as much as possible to make it easier for his nephew to invade," Erlend explained.

"There's another?"

"Yes, the son of his youngest sister, the last three Blackfyres."

"I'll tell you this, your Majesty. This spymaster of yours must be good for him to get all of this." Wyman jested. This earned a nervous chuckle from the rest of the lords present, who were somewhat leery of this unknown Master of Whisperers.

"Surely we should deal with this Visenya then, she seems to be the biggest threat at the moment," Eldon suggested.

"I disagree, Varys is the bigger threat. For all we know he might be somewhere in Westeros causing trouble." Yohn said.

"Like I said previously, Visenya is not a threat to us, so let her be. Varys is the true threat, despite still recuperating from the mess that was Kings Landing."

"Can't we send someone after him?"

Erlend shook his head, "He never stays in one place too long, making it difficult to get his precise whereabouts."

"What about this nephew of his?" Lorimas asked.

"His father is keeping him even better hidden than Varys."

"The father is still alive then?"

"Yes, you may know him better as a Magister of Pentos. The Cheesemonger to be more precise."

A look of disgust came over Lorimas's face at that reveal, clearly recalling the times he met the man. "We should've killed that bastard when we had the chance."

"So we can't do anything about them at the moment…" Eldon said.

"Aye, we should focus on the Tourney. The Blackfyres can't pose too much of a threat anyway. There's no Iron Throne left for them to claim, they're standing on shaky ground if they want to take the realm." Lorimas responded.

"The Triarchy should keep them busy for the time being. They have been showing a lot of interest in Pentos lately." Horton said.

Looking towards his Masters of Coin and Provisions "How's preparation for the Tourney going?" Erlend enquired.

"As well as it could be your Majesty. Making sure everything is in place is proving quite troublesome." Wyman answered.

"There's also the matter of relocating and helping the displaced smallfolk. It's diverting resources from the Tourney. That's the main reason why it's taking longer than expected." Eldon continued.

"50,000 Golden Crowns have been set aside for the joust winner. 30,000 for the Melee Champion and 15,000 for the Archery contest as specified."

"The Tourney grounds are already near completion, we should be done soon enough."

"That's fine, as long as the Tourney does well, I care not for how much resources we use. This has to go well, it will be the first major tourney the realm has seen since Harrenhal." Erlend said. "As for the displaced Smallfolk, continue as before. We can't just let them be left to their own devices, otherwise they might become desperate and resort to banditry."

"Of course your Majesty." They replied simultaneously.

"The Invitations have all been sent I take it?"

"Yes your Majesty, all the Great Houses and members of the Major Houses have been sent invitations and the heralds have also spread the word throughout the realm."

"It wouldn't do to unintentionally insult any of them," Eldon said.

"Them prickly lot need to grow some balls and take it like real men," Lorimas grumbled.

Ignoring his friend's antics, "Will you be competing your Majesty?" Yohn asked.

"As the host, it would be rude of me to do so, Seven knows they'll protest it heavily if I try," Erlend answered.

"Only a fool would choose to do so openly," Raymond said, getting murmurs of agreement from the rest of the council.

It was necessary to hold a tourney, as it played an important role in Westerosi culture and hopefully would convey the strength of the Crown to the rest of the Realm. The Tourney was also meant to show off Firmridge's development and the wealth his House boasted.

With that over with, Erlend motioned for Yohn to move on to the next topic.

Note: Initially, I was gonna do a similar reaction to the lannisters, but that would just be repetition. I decided to dive into the current situation in the Reach and see how the Tyrells were doing. The Reach isn't completely reliant on the North, while they do make a significant chunk of the sales, they can be replaced, there will always be a high demand for food after all, and it would just be more tro