Maester Bonifer rubbed his eyes violently, he felt as if he was in some kind of dream, pinching himself but not waking up. Bonifer smashed his door open and sprinted across the blue veined marble halls of The Eyrie.
The godswood of The Eyrie was an insult to any other in the Seven Kingdoms. Mountain grasses rose, scattered through the stoney soil, and the only trees in the godswood were small and warped. In the centre of the garden sat Lord Harrold Arryn. In front of him was a table with two piles of small intricately carved wooden pieces stacked roughly on top of each other. Opposite of Lord Arryn sat a young boy, no older than six years. They began to put the wooden pieces in the centre of the table, stacking them quickly on top of each other. Suddenly the boy shouted out a cry of victory. Smiling, they took back their wood pieces and started to mix around their piles once again. As the boy put down his first piece, Harrold noticed the young Maester bound into the garden. Panting heavily, Bonifer almost tripped over a rock as he reached the table where Harrold sat. Harrold looked at him with a furrowed brow and then reached down to take the letter which the Maester had dropped in his stumble, the letter landing near Harrold’s chair leg. Harrold snorted and chuckled, turning to Bonifer.
“Josten really does have a bad sense of humour. Why has he even bothered Lord Redfort with sending such nonsensical drivel?”
Bonifer took another letter from his robe, this time with the broken runic seal of House Royce. When he read this, his smile transformed. Harrold clenched his right hand into a fist and his teeth grinded together.
“Robert, please go and see your Grandmother.”
The boy got out of his seat and made his way out of the garden. Harrold waited for him to be clear of the garden until he released his wrath. Lord Arryn’s fist slammed down onto the table, scattering the wooden pieces across the rocky floor. He shouted with such fervour that Bonifer had never seen of him before.
“How could that dirty whore do this!? My own niece, releasing her monsters upon her own kinsmen. I was to help her claim that damned throne, and this is how she repays me? Fire and blood….. that wench is more concerned with fire. The Whore of Dragonstone, a worthy title for an oath breaker, kinslayer, usurper, and dishonourable churl.”
Bonifer was beginning to catch his breath and said to Lord Arryn.
“My lord, what are we to do? Joffrey and his forces are to the west, it will be some time until they can come back and aid us...”
Harrold’s head was in his hands, before he rose back up, anger still clear across his entire body.
“I am just as naïve as her fat and jovial father. My forces go west to aid her, and she sends her forces to the east, killing the men who would have won her the damned crown. Her blood led me to have a distorted view of her. I see what the fat cow truly is now, a traitorous whore. She betrayed Laenor Velaryon, giving him the horns and spawning those disgusting bastards of hers. There is no doubt that the three of them are Ser Harwin Strong’s sons, I merely ignored this fact, a man is not supposed to doubt his own family. Then she betrayed the law of the realm when she decided to try and usurp Aegon and his rightful place as King, a right supported by hundreds of years of inheritance backed by Firstmen, Andals and the Valyrians. She'd see tradition dragged through the street like a criminal and taken straight to the gallows. Bonifer, sit down, we must send news of this betrayal to the realm.”
Bonifer moved over to the table, putting a number of paper and writing implements down upon it before taking a seat. When Bonifer was ready to write, Harrold spoke.
“First, I would like you to send a letter to the true ruler of Westeros, King Aegon, second of his name. The Vale of Arryn shall swear fealty to him and fight for his rightful place on the throne.”
Harrold waited for this letter to be finished and then continued speaking.
“The news of The Whore of Dragonstone’s foul betrayal must be sent across the realm. We cannot allow anyone else to fall into this trap. If she cares not for even blood ties, then why would she care for a Lord unrelated to her? She even bears our falcon upon her banner, so she will step on wolves, lions, flowers, fish and stags without a thought. Any man of honour would see this betrayal and declare the false Queen his enemy. I beseech them to challenge Rhaenyra and her lackeys wherever in the realm they may be hiding. Declaring for Rhaenyra will only lead to death and betrayal. I swore an oath and intended to keep it, yet she attacked me without provocation.”
Bonifer wrote down Harrold’s words, adding some of his own for flavour. When he had finished the first copy of Lord Arryn’s letter, he looked up from the letter and onto his Lord.
“I shall have these copied up and sent across the realm shortly.”
Harrold smiled for a short moment, before his face turned back to anger.
“Good. We shall be leaving The Eyrie soon, there is a war to fight and I shall not sit idly by whilst my people are attacked by the whore and her servants.” |