Queen of the Storm

1st Moon, 141AD (29AC) 

The stormswood

"The stormlords are loyal, they will follow whatever will I have set when my time comes." 

Those had been Argilac's words to her in that fateful day in her father's solar. He had been sure of it as he spoke of those very same lords who had abandoned her. Of the lords that had not heeded her commands for she was a woman.  

Things would have just been simpler if father had just accepted Tully for my husband. 

Although he would never admit it, Argella knew her late father better than most. No, she knew her father better than anyone in the realm and the entirety of the world. To the world, he jested and japed about the Tully to his lords, sharing in their merriment at one grand feast or another. 

In private, he sat alone and brooded about the lost chance that had come willingly to him, but he had spurred himself.  

"They call me the arrogant," father had said as he lay ill in bed, his life naturally coming to an end. "Heh. I think no better moniker is ever deserved for I am arrogance. Arrogance personified, for why should I not be? I have led the greatest realm in this world for decades, never losing a single battle. Not even one quarrelsome lord has risen up to test me. I am only arrogant because I know I am good at what I do."  

"Father..." She had wiped away some sweat from his brow. "Please rest. There is no need for you to spend your energy like this." 

He had ignored her and continued his rambling. "Perhaps...I became too...arrogant. A bright star appeared in...front of me...but in my blazing glory, I did not see...it. I just did not see it..."  

He had been talking about Edmyn, that enough was easy to deduce. Every time she chided him about the trout, he would defend himself, never truly admitting that he may have been wrong.  

Father could never admit that he was wrong. That had been the closest thing to an admission of wrong before he came to pass from this world to the next. 

After that point, everything devolved to become the sorry state of affairs the Stormlands was in now. All because of the pride of men and perhaps, the pride of a woman herself. Seeing the kingdom of her ancestors' crumble before her had been more than enough to awaken her eyes that fault in this state also rested with her. 

No matter how much she cursed Olyvar's name to the seven hells and back. 

"I suppose I should be glad of the Dornish."  

"Your grace?" Ser Raymond Tarth asked as he rode beside her.  

She shook her head. "It's nothing." 

The years had been kind to Argella. Her lusty dark hair might have lost some of its life, but it was still as dark as midnight, the same as her eyes that anybody could lose themselves into. As the years past, she had become less beautiful and more handsome, with her body still more than enough to entice men and women alike if she dared to. 

The path they followed was a well-travelled upon one. For thousands of years, raiders from the north and south had used it to pass through the great woods that laid beyond the Blackwater. The shadows cast by the elms, sentinel trees and oaks, twisted and knotted kept the light of the sun away. 

It was silent save for the sounds of the horses and the talk amongst the knights and lordlings that made for her armed companions on this journey. A journey that would see her give up her crown.  

She wondered how many of them cursed her like the Massey's and Bar Emmons did? Did they also blame her for the legacy she was about to leave behind?  

Perhaps it was for the best. It was a legacy stained in foolishness on both the part of the father and the daughter. Her ancestors could curse and rage at her for all eternity or even deny her as one of their own. She would gladly accept it all. 

If it meant it could save the remnants of her kingdom from being taken by the greenhands and dornish. 

For that was even worse as far as she was concerned. 

The sounds of the Blackwater soon attracted brought her out the depths of her mind as the path led into the exit from the beast that were the stormwoods. So blinding was the exit, it almost felt like she had just entered into a different world and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the new demands that the light put upon her. 

"Your grace," Ser Raymond pointed north to the bay were the three hills claimed by their northern neighbour laid. "It's the Blackwater." 

For a moment, she had thought it was the Mander.  

"Thank you, good ser." She smiled gently at him. She had to remember her courtesies. Her mother had taught her all about the courtesies afforded to a lady.  

Seeing the rushing waters of the river brought a wave of nostalgia upon her. Her mind brought back memories of that day so many years ago. Of the young red kid who seemed a little too small for the armour he wore, who tried so hard to hold himself well in the presence of her father. 

Truthfully, his earnest in trying to make her father respect him had been somewhat endearing, if a little amusing. 

Argella did most certainly not think to see the boy from back then go on to rule a kingdom that had gone from strength to strength. Even now, it was whispered he had been able to bend the northern savages and the men of the Vale to his will.  

That was truly a feat for the songs. For the histories.  

Where once bare hills laid unclaimed, battles once having been fought for them, atop them, three large castles had been built atop them. The castles held within their confines the subject army of the Trident that protected this approach into their kingdom from the south. 

Around the castles, as with all such settlements, a town had developed. A town of well-ordered buildings with red rooftop tiles and bricks the colour of pale bone ringed by well-built circuit walls. The town itself was called Blackwater Bay and the castles that protected it, the Red Keeps. 

Ser Herbert Cole, a household knight squinted in the direction of the town. "Look at that place. In times past, that town would have been sacked to the seven hells and then sacked some more." 

Manfred Wendwater scoffed. "Do you see them walls? Good luck trying to take it or assault it. I doubt the rivermen would just let you take their walls without a fight. Any party that tries to take that town would bleed something nasty. I'd wager no party would even bother." 

"Then I suppose it's a good thing that we are not here to raid then." She said, then dug her spurs into her horse's side to continue their journey. 

For just like last time, Edmyn had arrived first and this time, he was standing on their side of the border. 

He has most certainly become bold.  

Someone as powerful as he was, was allowed that little concession.  

A great pavilion had been erected, an act which caused some of her company to bristle. "Too bold," Ser Raymond muttered angrily at the seven-coloured pavilion. "Far too bold."  

The Tarth lordling's thoughts were shared by that of her companions as well. "I understand our circumstances, but this? This is too much." Ser Herbert angrily shook his head. "We might not have much now, but we still have our pride."  

"That we do, my lords." She admitted as she led them towards the pavilion guarded by men in armour of a dark coloured grey that at a distant, it could be mistaken for black. "Pride that has clouded my judgement and has seen to it that I nearly lost our kingdom."  

"The fault of the consort, your grace." Ser Raymond asserted with nothing but honesty and pure belief. "He overstepped himself." 

Ser Herbert scoffed loudly. "He more than overstepped himself. He went against King Argillac's wishes! Even after swearing not too! He deserved his fate."  

The men that had followed her. That had supported her over the years had been men that had followed her father for years and had come to know her from since she was a little girl. Men of good repute and fame that them just siding with her had more than given her more influence than she would have ever thought possible.  

But it was nowhere near enough. 

They soon entered the camp, her knights and lordlings eyeing the men in the near black plate suspiciously. If their opposites did the same, they made a good show of hiding it for their expressions was as near as impassive and aloof as to be unreadable. 

Ser Raymond helped her unhorse herself outside the seven-coloured pavilion.  

Inside the pavilion, a desk and chairs had been set out for them to sit upon. The other chair already taken by her opposite, who rose at her entering. "Queen Argella! It's been too long since we last saw each other!" Edmyn I Tully greeted her as if they were old friends. His tone full of cheer and the smile on his lips, looking honest enough. 

I come to him a beggar. Offering my kingdom on a plate. Of course, he would be happy. Anyone would. 

"King Edmyn," her greeting was of a more cooler tone, but still more than amicable enough. "It has been some years since we last saw each other last."  

And Edmyn had changed then. Gone was the young boy, instead, the boy had become a man. His red hair had dulled some, with sprinklings of grey here and there, but he most certainly did not spot the massive beard that he wore on his chin. 

A beard that he was rubbing in thought. "I think it's been more than two decades, no? Some twenty something years. I was young then, amazed by your beauty and still very much am so. Have you found yourself some sort of elixir of youth? I would not mind basking in its delight as well."  

The flattery was empty, but it was nice enough to know that he aimed to make her more comfortable for the coming talks. 

"I'm afraid not your grace." She smiled then, a genuine smile. He was trying, wasn't he? "Maesters from the Citadel have concluded such a thing does not exist."  

Edmyn shrugged and pulled out the seat for her to take for which she did. "Then it must be in the blood then." He replied before he went back round the table and took his own seat. "I admit my lady, what you ask is something that has never been heard off. Even my maester was taken aback and he's one of the most knowledgeable people in my realm."  

Argella nodded, understanding it all too well. Her aged maester had something of a similar reaction as well though he understood the reasons for her doing so. Though the septon had been of a different mind strangely enough. 

"The situation at present is quite desperate for us." She wrung her hands together. "If Edmund is able to turn back the Dornish at Blackhaven, he can swing back around and march for the rest of the stormlands. A situation that I and many of the remaining lords do not want. A situation that your kingdom would also not like." She finished, her dark eyes staring into his blue. 

She might have been a woman but matters of war and strategy were not knew to her. Her father had often shared with him his councils of war and the nature of the kingdoms with any great event happening. Argella was more than aware enough to know that a Reach that controlled most of the south would be something unpalatable to the rest of the kings, the Trident in particular, especially considering their recent history. 

Edmyn's expression was difficult to discern as he thought over her words. When he spoke, he surprised her. "To be truthful, Edmund can take the stormlands for all I care. It would be quite good for us really. In fact, I would wish him good luck in trying to hold these wild lands of yours. I hear you stormlanders are quite the unruly folk."  

Her surprise quickly faded away as she worked at his words. Was he worried that his rule would be contested by the stormlords that would kneel to him? It was not an unfounded...worry really. It held some truths to it. 

Just like the storms that came over her homeland, they were fierce, wild and unbending. 

"They follow me." She said. "If I follow you, then they will do so as well."  

"You say that, but your late husband, my condolences for that, aimed to usurp your power." He paused for a moment. "him and many of his followers or others who did not recognise you." 

"They did that because I am a woman. For the weaknesses I supposedly hold in my sex." She looked at him unflinchingly. "You first met me dressed in men's plate. That did not surprise you. In fact, you welcomed it. 'Another day at the office for me' where the words you used if I remember correctly. You looked past the fact that I was a woman and saw me for me, so, once again, see me for me, without my sex in thought."  

He retreated for a moment, letting a quiet come over them before he rose up and offered her a drink. She accepted. 

"I'm not so much worried about you and yours accepting the orders of House Tully really." He said. "I'm more interested in whether Edmund can truly hold the stormlands he has now. Your people are an unruly lot. They would rebel and rebel and rebel and rebel." 

Argella blinked as she began to understand. "You are willing to let Edmund take my kingdom for he would bleed dearly for it." But so would her people. 

Edmyn snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Exactly! Accepting the current remnant of your kingdom as it is now over-stretches my kingdom. Then taking into account the modernisation among other things... basically, it's a lot of effort on my part." He sighed as he retook his seat. "You see, my advisors, learned men who know what they are doing and what they speak off are in separate heads about this. Some advice me to accept your fealty, others against. They bring a varied list of arguments for and against. Mostly economics and militarily. It's all enough that some just say let the Reach take your kingdom and let them bleed putting down rebellion after rebellion. Sure, the Reach would gain strength and prestige, but that can be counter-balanced with an alliance between us and Dorne." 

She grimaced as she thought of it. The Reach would be stuck between two kingdoms, having to defend two fronts. Two fronts... 

"The Gardeners could call upon their allies the Lannisters." She argued. 

"We pledged some decade of peace between us." The King of the Trident waved the threat away. "And anyway, the Deep Den and Golden Tooth are so fortified, it would be foolishness to assault their positions."  

"They could still come from the south." 

He shrugged then. "True, but our only border with the Reach has also been fortified quite well. You forget, your grace, I command the best men in all of Westeros. I turned the lions and greenhands once, I can do so again." 

This was not how she had expected this to be going. She had expected Edmyn to accept. To accept more land for his kingdom.  

Opportunities like this did not just happen and kings did not just turn them down. It was so surreal as it was difficult to believe that it was actually happening. She had to do something. Anything to save the rest of her kingdom from the greenhands.  

Or even worse, the Dornish. 

"You say the stormlanders would bleed the greenhands if they take my kingdom," she began, getting his attention. "but you are wrong, your grace." 

The red king rose an eyebrow. "Oh? How am I wrong?" 

"The stormlords would be the ones to rise up in rebellion." 

"I fail to see the distinction. They are stormlanders, no?" 

She smiled then. "Stormlander is a term that can apply to any men from my home. From the lowest of smallfolk to the highest of highborn. It is the stormlordswho would not care to greenhand rule, the smallfolk of the stormlands though? They care not for what game the high lords play as long as they are left in peace to live their lives and bring in the next harvest." 

That had been a piece of wisdom that her father had given her.  

He had told her that the lives and goals of the highborn and the smallfolk were as different as the moon and the sun.  

When Edmyn Tully laughed, Argella couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake somewhere.  

"You know," he began to say as he collected himself. "you are probably the first highborn I have ever met to accept that truth. I would be more than happy to let Edmund take your lands, but unfortunately, he happens to be killing the stormlords in the male line and giving the resulting lands to his own lords. Lords that I had taken land away from decades past. Do you know, when I inserted my own lords, not the bastards of the previous ones, barely any of the smallfolk even noticed the difference? Not even one. Oh, I'm sure some, the more affluent ones must have noticed the different heraldry the guardsmen wore when they made their rounds, but I doubt many of them even cared. 

"That's what I fear if I let Edmund take your realm. It's true me and Dorne can sandwich him between our two kingdoms, but he has an ally to the west who has more considerable strength than me at sea. Even if I can hold them to the Western Mountain passes, an invasion by sea would do me nothing. And if recent history has shown me anything, we are rather susceptible to invasions by sea, I'm still working on that." 

She blinked at all he had to say. "So, is that a yes?" 

He seemed deflated for a moment as he gave her a look. "I suppose it is then. House Durrandon shall continue to rule whatever is left of your realm, but with certain rights given over House Tully." 

"Rights?" She asked. 

He nodded. "Your remaining holdings shall become a tributary state of the Trident. Basically, I shall leave internal autonomy to you. Though you shall have no jurisdiction when it comes to matters of war or foreign relations. That's firmly in my rights." 

She nodded. She had expected this. "Is there anything else?" 

"A whole lot more." He grinned at her. "I do believe we are just getting started, your grace."  

Edmyn was correct in that regard. They were just beginning to get started. He talked to her of what he expected for her to do, the 'minimal basics' he had called it. Roads that linked the settlements of the stormlands together and when Argella had told him of the costs in such a massive body of work, enough to like ruin her house. 

He had introduced her to a man of teak coloured skin and hazel eyes. "This is Lysan Orlin." The king had introduced the man dressed in tan finery. His looks had reminded her of a dornishman that had made her worry but when he spoke, the accent had told her of a man from the east. 

"Your grace," he said in the accent of his homeland, wherever that was. "It is a pleasure to meet you."  

She had returned the pleasantries and greetings until Edmyn had told her who the man was. He was a banker, but not of the Braavosi or the Lyseni or any other such banks, but that of the Trident. For the works that were expected of her, the bank would loan her the coin needed for her to meet the 'basics' as Edmyn had called it. 

That was not all that Edmyn had demanded of her. He had also demanded rights to the stormswoods, something that she was sure the Wendwaters would not mind. She was more than aware of the overtures they had made to his kingdom through their agents.  

They also spoke of the potential threat Massey's Hook posed now that it was aligned with Dragonstone and thus, the Targaryen Freehold. Though he spoke of his dislike of the freehold and its practice of slavery. Argella found it strange that he was cool to her voice of striking at her former vassals for their betrayal of everything that was good and proper.  

He had given her a look then, as if she was made before quickly denying that course of action any legitimacy.  

"Those are the finer points, your grace." Edmyn had said, looking past her. "But it's getting late as of now. I think it's time we rested for the night and we shall go over the rest come the morrow. You are welcome to stay in Blackwater." 

She had accepted the offer and soon, her company joined his in crossing the Blackwater and travelling towards the castle town. All the while, she prayed that her forebears would at least understand the course of action she had been forced to take.