Chapter Text
Court ends on a sour note, especially given that Renly had started his reign with a great deal of bloodshed. While most of the casualties within the city were the consequence of the late Queen Cersei’s foolish ploy with the wildfyre, the blood of Lannister men that stained the hall reminded many a lord of the reign of Robert.
Robert had begun his reign with the slaughter of remaining Targaryens. Renly begins his with the death of the Lannisters.
She’s careful to make sure Renly takes note of this when they retire to their newly furnished rooms that evening.
“Robert was a terrible king.”
“What?”
“He was a great leader but a terrible king. He started off by killing children, proceeded to father bastards and put the realm in terrible debt to both the Iron Bank and the Lannisters, then refused to have or listen to good counsel.”
“You’re saying –“
“After massacring the Lannisters you’ve really got to make sure they know you’re not Robert. A bit of mercy here and there and a bit more seriousness when it comes to throne-sitting.” She pauses to think. “More like Stannis than Robert when it comes to matters of state but please do stay your charming self.”
“Stannis…” He rolls over to look at her. “I should have stopped Brienne from killing him. Despite everything he was still my brother. And he did have the better claim, though he would have been a terrible king.”
She sighs into his shoulder.
“We live with our regrets. I could have brought my father with me, you know, when I escaped King’s Landing. But I left him there. Taking him with us would have made escaping harder, true, but he might still be alive. But if I took him with us Joffrey might have taken Sansa’s head instead.” She lets out another sigh. “If Brienne hadn’t killed him, he might have sent another shadow after you. I might not have been there. And then you’d be dead and the realm would still be in pieces.”
There’s a silence that follows. Brooding, perhaps. Or just the silence that follows a statement that’s both reassuring and condemning at the same time. But for the first time in a few years, she feels she can breathe again.
“I’ll need a new Hand.”
“Not Mace Tyrell. An Estermont?” He looked affronted.
“After everything the Tyrells have given us, not naming him hand would be a grave insult.”
“And you would have Olenna speaking through Mace as your Hand.” She breathes out. “I suppose Mace will do, for the time being.”
“Why?”
“The Tyrells are ambitious. And they work better as a family than the Lannisters do. I-“ she breaks off. “I’m afraid the throne poisons all our minds.”
“Mace Tyrell laid siege to Storm’s End during the rebellion,” Renly says suddenly.
“They were following orders. So long as their liege has power, they will remain loyal, I think.”
“Who for the small council? I suppose you’re going to insist on keeping Varys.”
“Until he teaches me how to spin his web, I suppose so.”
He groans and pulls the sheets up.
“Let’s talk again on the morrow.”
In the morn she breaks her fast with her kingly husband.
“You’ve still got to decide who for your Kingsguard. And your Wardens. A Redwyne or a Stormlord for Master of Ships. Have you got a maester you can appoint?”
“And we’ve got to put someone Dornish on the council. And decide when your coronation is going to be. A tourney to select the Kingsguard?” He laughs at her disgusted expression.
That day, they appoint their small council. And their Wardens.
Tyrion Lannister is named Warden of the West, with Myrcella his heir. A woman and a dwarf is to be Lord Tywin’s legacy, and she smiles though she had planned it.
Mace Tyrell remains the Warden of the South, and people are relieved that there won’t be radical change outside the capital, at least for the time being.
The Arryn boy remains Warden of the East. She’d love to transfer the warden-ship to another House but there weren’t any other houses significant enough in the Vale.
Roose Bolton’s bastard is named Warden of the North. Arya had argued against it vehemently (he killed my brothers, she’d yelled at Renly) but there were no other Starks. Jon was bastard-born too, but Arya knew he would stay on the Wall, vows or no.
Against her wishes as well, Renly had announced a tourney “as soon as rebuilding is complete” to select his Kingsguard. She begrudgingly admits it isn’t a terrible idea – at the end of a war, people are eager to be cheered by some frivolity, and it would encourage lords or sons of lords who wanted to be a part of the Kingsguard to contribute to rebuilding.
She stands behind his seat on the small council later that day. The assembled lords had taken one look at her face and the two swords at her belt and they’d remained silent on the matter. They hadn’t forgotten who the King’s Justice was.
When the king goes hunting, several moons later, she sits at last on the Iron Throne.
The first thing she notices is that it’s cold.
The second thing she notices is the people staring up at her, some with hunger, others with distaste, and others with concealed curiosity. With the iron circlet heavy on her brow, Arya understands the poison of the throne at last. Who among the assembled is conspiring to take her crown, her throne? Robert died on a hunting trip. Would an opportunist take this chance to kill their king?
She shakes the paranoia and resumes holding court. When the petitioners have filed away, she lets herself breathe again. Alone, but for the little birds and mayhap Varys as well, Arya wonders why she wanted to keep the crown. She took the throne to avenge her parents and brothers by killing the Lannisters and stripping them of power. She took the crown as her duty and a chance to change the realm. (They sang songs of warrior-queen Nymeria. Would they sing songs of warrior-queen Arya? Sansa might.)
Walder Frey
The Bolton Bastard
Littlefinger
Aegon Targaryen, the Pretender
Daenerys Targaryen
Valar morghulis
There are fewer names now. She’d deal with Baelish once she found him. The Bolton bastard would die as soon as she had the chance to go north. On the way, mayhap Lord Frey would get his due. Or she could invite the Freys to King’s Landing.
She watches Varys out of the corner of her eye as she breathes in, letting her mouth twitch into a small smile.
She would cleanse the realm of them. For her family.
For her unborn child.