ASOIAF: Lord of Nature

(Gerold Grafton, Gulltown)

Today's events had reaffirmed in him the idea that he should not, could not, ever attempt to betray his Majesty's trust.

This was something neither easily given and the consequences of betraying it was not something his House could bear.

Recalling the horrifying scenes of mother killing daughter, son slaying father, and friends turning against each other at the drop of a coin, was enough to haunt his nights till his deathbed.

Blood had flowed throughout the dining chambers, and no one was spared—not even the servants. King Erlend's ruthlessness was fully showcased, and it certainly left an impression on him.

The distant Arryns had only but a moment to understand what was happening before giving up resistance and accepting the punishment that befell them. How dare they resist?

Could they even resist?

Gerald had witnessed the immense power his liege held. He was able to travel long distances in the blink of an eye, hide his presence from the most skilled huntsmen, and use magic he could not fathom nor dare to. 

Erlend Mudd was a monster in every sense of the world.

What terrified him further was the fact his liege didn't need to even lift a finger, letting the mercantile Arryns and their guests perish under their own hands.

It had taken a few hours for the truth to sink in. 

His Majesty had used such unfathomable methods, all so that he could avoid the stain of 'Kinslaying', and by the barest of measures Gerold could confirm that the King was true to his word.

Erlend didn't slay his kin, because they did it themselves, and that was far more frightening than anything else he could have done.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, the Valemen felt like he'd aged decades. He needed a strong drink to get over today's events.

He wondered what that fool Belmore was thinking when he decided to cooperate with traitors. Powers aside, his Majesty still retained the most powerful army Westeros had ever seen, loyal vassals who would not hesitate to fall on their blades for him. Seven hells, you only need to look at the Royces and Templetons to realize that.

"My lord, what happened today…" His captain started, interrupting him from his contemplation.

Raising his hand to stop the man, "Don't. Just don't. There's nothing we can do about it, but learn from their mistakes." Gerold stated plainly, his eyes practically screaming at his leal guard to be silent.

Hesitating for a moment, Mark eventually bowed his head, "Understood, my Lord. I'll keep the lads in line."

Shaking his head at his old friend, Gerold knew nothing good would ever come out of questioning their King.

In situations like these transparency and silent acceptance was the way to move forward, there was no need to poke the sleeping dragon. He had traitors to deal with, and owls needed to be sent to Symond and Marwyn. Nestor also needed to be informed, otherwise, Gerold would be facing the fury of the Vale.

As long as he performed well, Gerold would no longer be excluded from His Majesty's power circle. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and it must be grasped.

Pity he didn't have a beautiful daughter or sister to catch the interest of the King. Like many of his fellow lords, the Grafton patriarch envied the Hightowers and Daynes.

A knock was heard on the entrance to his solar, after getting a nod of confirmation from him, Mark opened the door to let his steward in.

Bowing his head in respect, the aged steward conveyed what needed to be said, "His Majesty has left the seat. He has ordered that the events of today are to be spread as soon as possible."

"I see. What are your thoughts on his reasoning?" Gerold asked his trusted steward.

"I dare not presume his Majesty's true thoughts, but perhaps he intends to use this to send a warning to the rest of the noble Houses."

"Would this not arouse their vigilance against him, my Lord?" Mark questioned, unable to understand the King's actions.

Gerold decided to answer his friend, "Their vigilance would amount to nothing. There's nothing you can do against a man, nay a god who could appear in your lands at any time and even control your eyes and ears as he desires."

"Ah… This." His captain looked like he sucked a sour lemon, unhappy with that realization. How could he protect his liege, if he couldn't trust his senses?

Another lord would have the man flogged for his audacity, but within the Castle, there were very few people Gerold trusted as much as he did Mark. This was a knight who'd grown up with him and his thoughts often perfectly portrayed that of the common man.

Giving him a valuable insight to the ongoings within his city.

Giving his captain a stern glare, "Mark. You need not worry, the King values loyalty and skill above all else, we just need to stay in his good graces and nothing shall befall us."

"Well said, my Lord." His aged steward affirmed his words, relieved that Gerold hadn't taken the extreme approach.

"Now then, we'll need to mobilize immediately. Benedar is likely to grow complacent as he likely assumes his involvement is well hidden, we must strike as soon as possible, while he's still confident in his anonymity."

Seeing that they were moving to a topic, Mark gave his input. Leading to the beginning of a discussion between the three on how they would deal with the situation thrust upon them.

Gerold was ecstatic, that House Grafton would rise, there could be no denying that.

…

(Nestor Royce, the Eyrie)

It should have been a quiet evening, nothing too grand.

He had everything well in hand, and there was trouble to be had. So, when the lord regent received word from his King directly and from Grafton a few hours later. He understood that the lull period was over.

Cursing out loud, "Fucking traitors the whole lot of them." Nestor was ready to blow.

Every single time he dealt with one rat, another popped up, not to mention Belmore of all people. How daft could that barrel of a man be, to blatantly betray their King like that and expect to get away with it?

The fool must have been heavy in his cups to prance around like a peacock and even go along with this nonsense.

Nestor had never felt the weight of his position more clearly than today.

Yes, House Royce had risen in status never seen before, comparable to that of the Hightowers at their peak. Yet, it also left them with obligations and duties that were equally daunting.

Granted, he would not deny the fact that he was enjoying this just a little bit.

It would be best to request a Banner to encircle Belmore's lands to ensure the smooth transfer of power between Marywn and Benedar's branches. As for how the Graftons and Templetons planned to divide the spoils, he didn't care.

As Lord Regent, Nestor was well aware of when not to overstep his boundaries, at best he could mediate between them, yet he dared not calm a piece of the pie for himself. Otherwise, he would surely find himself dealing with a lot of disgruntled lords.

There was also the fact that the King had been subtly reducing the rights and privileges of the landed noble Houses. Something he kept mum about as it did benefit him and his family greatly.

Oh, some of the more intelligent lot were aware of what was happening, but none dared reveal it and those that tried had all disappeared quietly.

The Banner's existence was in itself a glaring example of this, with normal levies unable to match them.

Taking his quill at hand, Nestor began to write down instructions for the coming operations, his liege expected this to be done and over with as soon as possible, therefore he would endeavor to make that a reality.

As for Benedar, the man wrought this onto himself. He should have known better.

…

"My lord," The bannermen saluted at him respectfully.

Not batting an eye, "At ease, Sergeant. I take it you have news for me?" Nestor said calmly.

"Strongsong is now secure. No one is getting in or out, without your express permission. A few merchants were disgruntled, but the Commander managed to quell them."

"Are Symond and Gerold in place, or have their men yet to arrive? How did the Belmores react?" 

"Lord Grafton was the first to arrive with his knights and levy. Lord Templeton is expected to arrive in approximately a day. As for the Belmores, while they have discovered our forces, they have not taken any overt action against us."

"I see, continue as normal, you may reinforce the two Houses, only if you see their lines faltering."

Saluting a second time, "Of course, my Lord." The man quickly left the tent.

Yes, Nestor had decided to personally observe the newest operation at hand, while he had full faith in the two Houses, at least in the Templetons. He would not leave anything to chance.

Regardless of their success or failure, Benedar and his branch would fall. This was a certainty in his mind.

…

(Edmund Mudd, ???)

Unknown to all those involved. Their Crown Prince and King were both silently observing their every move. Floating high above the cloud, the two Mudds watched as the two forces prepared to clash.

Both Royals had watched as the Templeton, Graftons and Marywn's branches converge to form a single coherent force, ready to shatter Benedar's loyalists at any moment.

Caught by surprise, the Lord of Strongsong could only mobilize a thousand or so men to defend his lands. No support arrived from either his vassals or marital allies.

"Dad, wouldn't it be easier for the Banners to deal with them directly," Edmund asked his father curiously.

After all, he had already ordered the swift execution and dissolution of several dissidents on his own. Thus he was aware that the Banners were more than capable of quelling this failed rebellion on their own.

"You could say that, but that would leave no room for Grafton to join your brother's inner circle once he's old enough." His father answered. "The valemen like the northerners are incredibly stubborn people, unless Grafton shows enough loyalty and merit, even if I give him a position of power, he'll never truly be accepted."

"Is he that important?" Edmund could agree that Gulltown was no doubt an important city, it was practically the lifeblood of the vale's mercantile sector after all.

Yet, nothing was stopping Jasper from granting a charter to Runestone to build their port city to balance things out.

As if reading his mind, "Yes, the Royces are one of our most reliable allies, that can't be denied, but there must be check-and-balances in place to avoid their descendants getting too ahead of themselves." His father said.

Lamentation would cement their loyalty for sure, but that was only as long as the reigning Royce remained true to duty and honor.

"I thought the Templetons, Hunters, and Egens did that already." Edmund was perplexed in that regard, there was no shortage of powerful vassals in this region.

This was advantageous to his House during the conquest but would hinder the Crown's centralization efforts in the long run No wonder his father resorted to magic.

"You're not wrong, though it doesn't hurt to add another piece to the puzzle."

Gazing downwards, their conversation stalled as they watched both forces finally battle it out. It was a bloody affair, one that the Belmores had no shot at winning.

This was another of his father's ploys, weakening the Belmores just enough that they couldn't threaten Jasper, but leaving them strong enough that none of the other Houses could easily influence them.

No doubt, Ser Marwyn had already drawn up plans to keep his allies from getting too ahead of themselves, evident by his requests that those who willingly surrendered be spared.

It also served as another reminder to those Houses directly under the Crown that House Mudd always needed to resort to using the Banners to deal with traitors. There were more than enough noble Houses around who'd willingly do so on their behalf instead, leaving them on guard against what could have been potential collaborators.

"Remember Ed, while we are powerful. There is no need for us to always take action personally, often more than not you'll find Houses willing to do it on our behalf, and even gladly take up infamy that comes with it."

"I understand, Dad. It just feels like we're giving them too much power, and I don't like what that could lead to."

"Aye. It's a delicate balance we must maintain, if we do everything on our own, then it could lead to disgruntled vassals, as they feel sidelined. Yet, if we allow them too much freedom, then they'll yearn for more than they should have."

"That's where our magic comes in. The benefits encourage them to remain loyal, whereas our strength can keep them in line so as not to demand too much, lest they bite the hands that feed them." Edmund understood where his father was going with this.

Nodding in approval, "Edmund, as wizards, we will inherently live longer than nearly all living beings. This gives us an inherent advantage over our enemies, not only in accumulating strength but also to foil plots like that of the Martells."

Edmund frowned when he remembered the Martells, while he personally liked Uncle Oberyn and Aunty Elia, there was no doubt in his mind that their ancestors were terrible people.

Centuries of planning to get their hands on a throne that they neither forged nor ever contributed to. They nearly caused the collapse of the dynasty they claimed allegiance to when first joining the rest of the kingdoms.

Seeing where his son's mind was going to, "Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. There's nothing too special about their scheme, aside from the fact that they were far more successful when compared to Houses like the Lannisters or Tyrells." His father warned him.

"No House would refuse the crown or seek it, and those that claim that anyone who refuses it are better suited for it than they are foolish idealists who have yet to understand the reality of our world."

Before his father could go on a tirade on how ridiculous idealists were, something happening below caught both their attention.

Ser Marwyn had slain the Commander of the Belmore forces, successfully demoralizing his opponents and leaving them vulnerable against the rest of the allied forces, who took the opportunity presented now that the enemy was headless.

It was a relatively quick battle after that, as those who refused to surrender were killed, whilst those who did were swiftly captured and awaited judgment.

"Well then, this was underwhelming. I thought it would be more fierce." Edmund muttered.

The Belmores were essentially fighting for their continued existence as an autonomous entity. One would not be wrong to think they'd put up more of a fight. Even if they were now under the leadership of someone trusted by the King.

Most other Houses would be leery about associating with any Belmore not directly related to Ser Marwyn.

Chuckling at his reaction, "Those are often the best type of battles Ed, they reduce the number of men lost, and keep our lines steady." His father said.

Glancing at the battle one final time, Edmund shifted to his animagus form, ready to fly off back to Firmridge. His father didn't stop him, choosing to remain above the battlefield to watch the aftermath. 

He hated the feeling of side-along apparition, it always made him nauseous. Until he was able to move through far distances accurately, he would continue to fly. So there were no plans to return with his father if he could help it.

Hmm, maybe he should get the rest of the brood some gifts on the way. It would make his return less chaotic.