No more strings

in case anyone is interested, I decided to write a story to distract me from the research I do for some chapters of this fanfic, it's called Industrial Baron in Caesar's Legion, it's more violent because there is no need to keep up appearances.

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-Pov of Tywin lannister tenth moon 288 AC

If that damned Arryn, with his absurd obsession with honor, had acted quickly against the Prussians, we wouldn't be enduring this humiliation now. Hohenzollern held all the cards to establish his dominance here in the Seven Kingdoms, and now, with his roots deeply embedded, expelling him is almost impossible.

He has instilled in his people, as insignificant as they are, those Prussian ideals of war and diligence. All of them, their minds poisoned by his rhetoric, follow his will blindly. And so, Hohenzollern does with them as he pleases.

And because we acted too late, we are paying the highest price. Moving thousands of soldiers into the field, with foolish bannermen who, without any authorization, decided to attack Prussian lands... for what? To take a few minor castles for a couple of days, only to then be crushed by the inevitable Prussian counteroffensive.

Hoster Tully, that useless fool, was unable to defend his own lands. The Prussians entered as if they owned the place, burning everything in their path. And seeing Hoster's weak response, they didn't just stop at his lands—they crossed into mine. They burned a large portion of the eastern crops and captured several castles, taking advantage of my vassals' incompetence.

And what did Lord Lefford do? Nothing. The Golden Tooth, a place from which any incursion can be seen from kilometers away, was completely useless under his command. If the Prussians passed through unnoticed, it's clear there were no guards at their posts, or Lord Lefford is more incompetent than I thought. Either way, he has failed, and that negligence has cost us dearly.

But while that was happening at sea, the Ironborn ravaged Lannisport, the most important city in my lands. For three days, they plundered the city at will, stripping the inhabitants of everything they could carry, while I tried to gather a large enough force to expel them. And meanwhile, the rest of the great lords fell one by one, tactically defeated by the Prussians, who with each victory consolidated their control over the Seven Kingdoms.

It all ended with the Prussian being handed the best conditions any traitor could have dreamed of on a silver platter. Instead of receiving the punishment he deserved or being expelled from our lands, he was granted a tax reduction and the annulment of all treaties that limited his power, something that should have been unthinkable. And all that with barely any bloodshed. The benefits he gained, thanks to Arryn's ineptitude, were immense.

If I had been Hand of the King, the Prussians would have been expelled in their first year here. But now, thanks to the cowardice and lack of vision of those who should have defended the realm, they have become a problem that is here to stay. An enemy with roots that will be difficult to uproot, and all because of the incompetence of those who failed to act in time.

And here we are again, forced to cooperate with the Prussians, because Arryn fears that a total war with them would be what finally breaks the realm. What should have been a controlled alliance has turned into submission disguised as cooperation. Arryn, with his fear of the consequences, doesn't understand that by allowing the Prussians to gain so much ground, he is weakening the authority of the crown.

But the worst part is that even the North, that land so proud of its honor and of never breaking an oath, has fallen. The Starks, those who glorify themselves with their unbreakable loyalty, have broken an oath under their own kingdom. And if the Starks, the supposed guardians of honor, have bent the knee, what can we expect from the rest? The realm is already showing cracks, and with the Prussians cementing their position...

"Recruit all the sailors you can find. We must gather a fleet strong enough to challenge the Ironborn soon. There's still no news of where the Prussian fleet is!" said Lord Arryn, his face flushed with frustration as he shouted at Pycelle.

"You may ask the Prussian personally, Lord Hand. The Prussians crossed into my territories two days ago, and we must decide what we will do to ensure that Prussian lord destroys the Iron Fleet of those pirates," I said, seated in my chair, watching the gathering of the great lords.

"Let's hope he contributes a good number of men, as most have returned to their lands and their levies before the war against the Ironborn even ended," said Lord Arryn, visibly annoyed by my comment.

"The fields of my lands are completely devastated, Lord Hand. Most of my lords' castles have turned into massive refugee camps, as nearly all the villages burned. Maintaining security in our lands is a priority, or we will once again face bandit problems, especially with the food shortages we are suffering," said Lord Hoster, attempting to excuse his obvious incompetence.

Lord Arryn seemed barely able to tolerate Lord Hoster's presence, especially after the pathetic performance he had displayed during the war. We all knew that, in the end, it was my men who hunted down the Prussian Wolfheads, while Hoster made excuses and his lands burned.

Tensions continued to rise among the gathered lords, with verbal skirmishes breaking out here and there, until the eunuch entered the room. His silent steps interrupted the arguments as he carried a bundle of papers, which he carefully placed on the table.

"Lord Hand, I'm afraid I am once again the bearer of bad news. Security in Prussia has returned to normal, and the songs of my little birds have stopped coming. I won't be able to deliver as precise information as in recent days," said Varys, his voice soft but laden with gravity. He paused briefly before continuing.

"However, I do have news from Wilhelmshaven. The Prussian fleet has gathered in the area and has confiscated local ships to bolster their numbers. But while this was happening, and nearly all the old nobility of The Reach was concentrated in that city, there were numerous accidents, deaths, and murders. These events culminated in the destruction of several noble houses, eliminating every last scion of those dynasties," he added, his tone serious, his eyes sweeping across the room as if gauging our reactions to the revelation.

The room fell silent, and the air grew thick with tension.

"Is this Lord Hohenzollern's doing?" Lord Arryn asked, his face as serious as stone upon hearing the news.

"There's nothing that directly ties him to the deaths," Varys replied in his usual cautious tone, "but they all occurred suddenly, and supposedly many of those nobles had pledged to rise in arms against the Prussians. It's too much of a coincidence, especially when the Protestant Inquisition was in the area, burning those they deemed false converts."

"Inquisition?" Pycelle said, making quite a bit of noise with his chains.

"As I understand it," Varys began, his tone calm, "this Inquisition is a branch of the Teutonic Order, tasked with maintaining the purity of the Protestant faith and eliminating any heresy, all under the direct orders of the Prussian kings. For five days, pyres were raised in Wilhelmshaven, where they burned around two thousand people, accused of being false converts. Meanwhile, murders and accidents ran rampant in the city."

He paused, letting his words sink into the room. "It seems that Lord Hohenzollern has purged any possibility of rebellion in The Reach. If my information is correct, it will only be a matter of time before the Inquisition spreads to other regions, bringing with it its hunt for heretics and ensuring complete submission to its order."

"Just what we needed, Protestant fanatics," Lord Arryn muttered, rubbing his temples.

"My Lord Hand, this is a direct attack on…" Pycelle tried to say.

"Shut up, Pycelle! I've got a war on my hands, and I want to destroy that damned Greyjoy before you start talking about launching another pointless one," Robert roared, wiping his mouth with his hand after devouring a leg of pork. His voice resonated with as much force as his frustration, cutting off any further attempts at a response from Pycelle.

And before anyone could speak, Kevan burst into the room, where nearly all the great lords were already gathered.

"Brother, Lord Hohenzollern has arrived. His army is camped outside Lannisport," Kevan announced gravely. "It seems the Prussians have brought their entire army."

The atmosphere in the room changed immediately.

"Tell him he is invited into my home," I said through clenched teeth, trying to contain my irritation.

Kevan hesitated for a moment before responding: "Uh… he said he prefers to camp outside. Any meeting requiring his presence will have to take place outside the castle."

I took a deep breath, controlling my frustration. It was obvious. He didn't want to be surrounded by so many nobles who would wish him dead at the first opportunity. A prudent move on his part, but one that made it clear he didn't trust any of us.

"I suppose we'll have to indulge the Prussian," I muttered as I stood up from my chair, a mix of resignation and frustration washing over me.

I immediately ordered a tent to be set up for our meeting with him, ensuring that most of the lords were present. I had no intention of allowing the Prussian to dictate the terms of this meeting, but we couldn't ignore him either.

We had to leave Casterly Rock and wait in the hastily prepared tent. The atmosphere was tense, with murmurs among the lords. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Prussian lord made his entrance.

Dressed in full black armor that seemed to absorb the light, Hohenzollern appeared with an imposing escort of seven tall, burly knights.

"We meet again, King Robert, Lord Hand, Lord Lannister, Lord Hoster. I've heard your lands are in a deplorable state… and what about the Martells?" the Prussian said in a clearly provocative tone, slowly lifting the visor of his helmet to reveal a barely contained smile.

Lord Arryn, maintaining his composure, responded seriously: "Prince Doran will not be joining us. His coast has been devastated by Karl von Rugen's raids on his lands."

The Prussian smiled, a cold gesture. "Oh, a real shame... But indeed, several fishing villages and coastal castles were burned to ashes by Admiral Karl's fleet." He calmly sat in his chair, his guards standing around him with menacing stares.

Lord Arryn went straight to the point. "Where is your fleet, Lord Hohenzollern? We must put an end to the Ironborn attacks as soon as possible."

The Prussian kept his sarcastic tone, eyeing each of us. "In preparation, of course. There was a small delay... some 'terrible accidents' in Wilhelmshaven. Most likely caused by those vile fanatics of the Faith of the Seven, who murdered many nobles in the city. But don't worry, I've ensured the culprits have been hanged to prevent anything like that from happening again." His gaze shifted between us.

Arryn just grimaced.

"But it will be ready soon. However, what happened to your armies? I only see Arryn and Lannister soldiers, and a few thousand Baratheons," asked the Prussian, though he surely already knew the situation perfectly well.

"Eddard has been delayed for some reason, though he confirmed his presence. Many men were left guarding the coasts and trying to retake the castles the Ironborn occupied," Lord Arryn replied, keeping calm.

The Prussian, with his calculated smile, replied: "I see, we'll be camping for several days, it seems. In the meantime, I'll quarter most of my men in Lannisport."

I couldn't let such a statement pass. "With whose authorization?" I asked, fixing my gaze on him.

"With the authorization that we're in a damned war," the Prussian replied, his words dripping with contempt. "My men can use the ruins of your city while we wait to dominate the seas. I doubt the raped women, the orphans, and the cowards who hid will make much use of what's left of the city," he added, with a smirk that only fueled my anger.

"The answer is no, Lord Hohenzollern," I responded firmly, without breaking eye contact.

He didn't hesitate to counter. "Are you against the war? Refusing to support your king? That sounds like treason," he said, in a cold, threatening tone.

Before I could respond, Lord Hoster exploded. "But look who's talking! Just days ago, you were burning all my lands," he shouted, his face red with fury.

The Prussian turned to him, the ferocity in his eyes palpable. "Don't ever address me if I haven't spoken to you, or I'll have your tongue cut out. Is that clear, Tully?" he said with a look that made Hoster, frightened, merely nod in silence.

Without taking his eyes off me, the Prussian continued: "And I'm not asking for permission, Lord Lannister. I'm informing you of what's going to happen. My men will quarter in Lannisport. End of discussion."

Before I could reply, Lord Arryn tried to intervene. "Lord Hohenzollern..."

The Prussian interrupted him immediately, with absolute coldness. "Lord Arryn, I remind you that my title is another. There is no agreement that forces me to endure being called by a lesser title. I am the king in Prussia, the king of the Prussians, and from now on, you will address me by my title, or we will have serious problems," his voice was a direct warning.

Robert, who had been watching with growing irritation until that moment, finally stood up from his chair, unable to contain himself. "Wilhelm, what the hell is wrong with you?" the king growled, his tone thick with irritation.

The Prussian shot him a glare. "Don't call me by one of my names. We are not friends," he replied, his tone sharp as a dagger. "I've tolerated you because I wanted good relations with the Seven Kingdoms, but I can barely stand to look at you. You're nothing but a degenerate, a drunkard, a womanizer, and good for one thing: fighting. The only thing that binds me to the Seven Kingdoms is coexistence, but I no longer need to pretend to like you," he said, with such deep disdain that even Robert was momentarily silent.

"Lord Hohenzollern, mind your..." Lord Arryn tried to intervene again, seeking to calm the waters.

The Prussian interrupted once more, fixing his gaze on him with dangerous intensity. "What did you call me?" he asked, and his knights placed their hands on the hilts of their swords, ready to act.

Arryn, knowing he had no choice, corrected himself in a faint voice: "King in Prussia, Wilhelm..."

"Exactly," the Prussian replied, with a satisfied smile. "Well said. Now, anyone who wants to recommend how I should run the war is welcome to speak with me," he added before standing up and leaving the tent, surrounded by his escort.

My blood boiled, and it wasn't just me. Everyone in the room was incredibly furious, but the only one who seemed to remain calm was Robert, who stood there, deep in thought, his jaw clenched. Arryn, on the other hand, looked visibly worried, likely already imagining how he would beg the Prussian for forgiveness to restore his favor.

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I'm trying another writing format, please let me know if this is worse or better

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Give me your power stones

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Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

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I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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