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Wow. He managed to kill both his dad and his brother. That's harsh. Of course, if anyone realizes this, it would make excellent blackmail - assuming that they took precautions to prevent their own assassination, of course.
I wonder which side of the Dance the Clubfoot will take. Speaking of which, how's the Dance looking to unfold?
I wonder which side of the Dance the Clubfoot will take. Speaking of which, how's the Dance looking to unfold?
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We've got a Rhaenys and Daemon team-up in the Stepstones (both dragon-riders and IT claimants), we've got a dragon-riding Viserys I in King's Landing, and a daughter of him and Alicent Hightower, a non-dragon riding infant. Rhaenyra is already dead by this point. Of course if Viserys has a son this might change, but nothing so far...
So yeah, not looking good from the perspective of a stable succession. But in chaos the Clubfoot thrives
And he might well start creating a little more himself now he's lord of Harrenhal.- 1
Loving the narrative!
I'm excited to see what sort of civil war will appear with Daemon and Viserys' heirs.
As for Larys...his particular talents were going to lead to unfortunate accidents around Harrenhal, now to see how his relationship with the queen develops!
I'm excited to see what sort of civil war will appear with Daemon and Viserys' heirs.
As for Larys...his particular talents were going to lead to unfortunate accidents around Harrenhal, now to see how his relationship with the queen develops!
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Lord Larys ‘Clubfoot’ ascended to the Lordship of Harrenhal beneath a black and smoking cloud emerging from the ruination of the lord’s tower. The murders of his father and brother occupied him it was said, as he sent outriders far and wide in an attempt to hunt any traces of the culprits of the fire. Some even formulated the view that the Clubfoot himself had done it, that his twisted foot was the curse of the gods that reflected the twisted soul within him… but if anybody among the men-at-arms or staff at Harrenhal castle formed that opinion, they did not dare say so openly, for the Clubfoot stalked the halls, limping and dragging along his decrepit appendage behind him, with his walking stick always aiding his gait, the Clubfoot spoke to nobody, issued no orders for days on end as he wandered the ruined halls and paced the rooms blackened with soot and smelling of acrid smoke.
The summons came barely a week after his return from Harrenhal, Lord Grover Tully had sent for Lord Larys, to come to Riverrun at the request of his liege lord. Betraying no emotion, the Clubfoot gave orders that his sedan chair, which he used for travelling over such vast distances, ought to be readied, and summoned several of his body servants who would raise the chair upon their shoulders and carry him as he moved. What Lord Grover wanted to discuss he did not say, though Lord Larys was not fool enough that he had not guessed.
“My condolences, Lord Strong, on the loss of your father and brother.”
The Clubfoot’s head bowed. “My thanks Lord Grover,” he said quietly, “their loss is truly a… tragedy.”
Those silent eyes flickered upwards, and Lord Grover Tully felt a cold shiver in spite of himself. It was said that Larys Clubfoot never slept, and that he could see right through a man to his darkest secrets. He had a special talent for intrigue, and the sudden deaths of his closest kin had only enhanced his sinister reputation.
“I do hope those responsible shall be found and punished in accordance with the King’s peace.” Grover continued, “It would be the for betterment of us all if the murder of high lords did not go unpunished.”
“If the murder of the meanest smallfolk did not either, it would be a better world my lord,” The Clubfoot gave a small, twisted grin, “But alas, rest assured I have outriders scouring the country for those who set the fire that took my poor father and brother from me. We shall not rest until they have been punished for their treachery.”
But did someone put them up to it, and was that someone Lord Clubfoot himself? Lord Grover did not vocalise the thought, but he thought he glimpsed a shadow of it reflecting back at him in Larys Strong’s enigmatic face. He shivered involuntarily again. He did not know, but he would be a fool if he did not suspect, and the Clubfoot was not so foolish as to believe he didn’t suspect it…
“Well I do hope they are found soon,” was all he said aloud, “However, I do find myself in need of your services, Lord of Harrenhal, for the realm’s troubles grow darker by the day, akin apparently to your own personal troubles.”
“Prince Daemon, yes, I’m aware of the Rogue Prince’s latest dealings.”
“Then you know well that the dark cloud that hangs over the succession still lingers. Princess Rhaenys still has supporters for her claim, even with The Sea Snake exiled to the Wall, and an alliance between her and Prince Daemon threatens the peace King Viserys has worked to maintain.”
“Has he not deigned to name his daughter as his successor?” Larys asked. “He did so for Princess Rhaenyra. Why not for Jaehaera?”
“No doubt Otto Hightower pushes that option, as does the Queen,” Lord Grover acknowledged, curling his lips at the mere mention of the Hightowers. “But the King’s mood is still darkened by his daughter’s death and what he regards as his brother’s continued slights. He will not bend to name a successor outright, for fear that it will spark civil war as soon as he does.”
“Then we must pray Queen Alicent succeeds where the late Queen Aemma fails and grants the King a son.”
Grover glared at the Clubfoot sharply. “Prayer is not our best weapon, information is, and information, Lord Clubfoot, is what I hear you can provide. If you are to be Lord of Harrenhal, then I intend for you to make use of yourself to your liege lord, should you be willing.”
Larys bowed stiffly. “I am your servant in all things, my lord.”
“Then I shall need information at court as pertains to House Tully’s position. What is the King thinking? How are the factions lining up? To survive the war that I fear is coming we must always know who plots against whom and who takes measures to survive.” He glanced again at Larys. “If we survive, Lord Clubfoot, then so shall you, working with us is to your benefit.”
“I can see the benefits of that arrangement.” Larys conceded. “I accept, the ears and eyes I own shall be at your service, Lord Tully.”
“In these days of danger for the realm, I am grateful for it,” Lord Grover replied, ushering the Clubfoot out of the room with a wave of his hand, signifying the audience was over. “We need all the eyes we can get.”
And indeed the Clubfoot’s eyes did their work well. As their master sat in Harrenhal like a spider perched in the centre of a deadly web, Larys’s bees collected their honey. King Viserys had grown increasingly fearful and agitated, his acquisition of a dragon had not made his power feel more secure. His daughter Jaehaera, a sweet, dainty thing, still lived, but her frail nature made some question how long she would even survive beyond her second name day, especially with Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenys alike possibly angling for her throne.
It was in this tinderbox that the Clubfoot saw the opportunity to spark yet another flame. The tree of power had many branches, and if some could be burned away, the new growth could rise…
OOC: Now he's Lord Grover's spymaster. Gee, what could possibly go wrong with an ambitious kinslayer being the guy who you trust to warn you of conspiracies? I can't imagine!
The summons came barely a week after his return from Harrenhal, Lord Grover Tully had sent for Lord Larys, to come to Riverrun at the request of his liege lord. Betraying no emotion, the Clubfoot gave orders that his sedan chair, which he used for travelling over such vast distances, ought to be readied, and summoned several of his body servants who would raise the chair upon their shoulders and carry him as he moved. What Lord Grover wanted to discuss he did not say, though Lord Larys was not fool enough that he had not guessed.
“My condolences, Lord Strong, on the loss of your father and brother.”
The Clubfoot’s head bowed. “My thanks Lord Grover,” he said quietly, “their loss is truly a… tragedy.”
Those silent eyes flickered upwards, and Lord Grover Tully felt a cold shiver in spite of himself. It was said that Larys Clubfoot never slept, and that he could see right through a man to his darkest secrets. He had a special talent for intrigue, and the sudden deaths of his closest kin had only enhanced his sinister reputation.
“I do hope those responsible shall be found and punished in accordance with the King’s peace.” Grover continued, “It would be the for betterment of us all if the murder of high lords did not go unpunished.”
“If the murder of the meanest smallfolk did not either, it would be a better world my lord,” The Clubfoot gave a small, twisted grin, “But alas, rest assured I have outriders scouring the country for those who set the fire that took my poor father and brother from me. We shall not rest until they have been punished for their treachery.”
But did someone put them up to it, and was that someone Lord Clubfoot himself? Lord Grover did not vocalise the thought, but he thought he glimpsed a shadow of it reflecting back at him in Larys Strong’s enigmatic face. He shivered involuntarily again. He did not know, but he would be a fool if he did not suspect, and the Clubfoot was not so foolish as to believe he didn’t suspect it…
“Well I do hope they are found soon,” was all he said aloud, “However, I do find myself in need of your services, Lord of Harrenhal, for the realm’s troubles grow darker by the day, akin apparently to your own personal troubles.”
“Prince Daemon, yes, I’m aware of the Rogue Prince’s latest dealings.”
“Then you know well that the dark cloud that hangs over the succession still lingers. Princess Rhaenys still has supporters for her claim, even with The Sea Snake exiled to the Wall, and an alliance between her and Prince Daemon threatens the peace King Viserys has worked to maintain.”
“Has he not deigned to name his daughter as his successor?” Larys asked. “He did so for Princess Rhaenyra. Why not for Jaehaera?”
“No doubt Otto Hightower pushes that option, as does the Queen,” Lord Grover acknowledged, curling his lips at the mere mention of the Hightowers. “But the King’s mood is still darkened by his daughter’s death and what he regards as his brother’s continued slights. He will not bend to name a successor outright, for fear that it will spark civil war as soon as he does.”
“Then we must pray Queen Alicent succeeds where the late Queen Aemma fails and grants the King a son.”
Grover glared at the Clubfoot sharply. “Prayer is not our best weapon, information is, and information, Lord Clubfoot, is what I hear you can provide. If you are to be Lord of Harrenhal, then I intend for you to make use of yourself to your liege lord, should you be willing.”
Larys bowed stiffly. “I am your servant in all things, my lord.”
“Then I shall need information at court as pertains to House Tully’s position. What is the King thinking? How are the factions lining up? To survive the war that I fear is coming we must always know who plots against whom and who takes measures to survive.” He glanced again at Larys. “If we survive, Lord Clubfoot, then so shall you, working with us is to your benefit.”
“I can see the benefits of that arrangement.” Larys conceded. “I accept, the ears and eyes I own shall be at your service, Lord Tully.”
“In these days of danger for the realm, I am grateful for it,” Lord Grover replied, ushering the Clubfoot out of the room with a wave of his hand, signifying the audience was over. “We need all the eyes we can get.”
And indeed the Clubfoot’s eyes did their work well. As their master sat in Harrenhal like a spider perched in the centre of a deadly web, Larys’s bees collected their honey. King Viserys had grown increasingly fearful and agitated, his acquisition of a dragon had not made his power feel more secure. His daughter Jaehaera, a sweet, dainty thing, still lived, but her frail nature made some question how long she would even survive beyond her second name day, especially with Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenys alike possibly angling for her throne.
It was in this tinderbox that the Clubfoot saw the opportunity to spark yet another flame. The tree of power had many branches, and if some could be burned away, the new growth could rise…
OOC: Now he's Lord Grover's spymaster. Gee, what could possibly go wrong with an ambitious kinslayer being the guy who you trust to warn you of conspiracies? I can't imagine!
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It is not what Clubfoot does, but rather what others believe Clubfoot is capable of doing. Thank you for updating.
It looks like the Dance of the Dragons is occurring anyway.
Also, I read this AAR a bit differently since I finally saw that
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Also, I read this AAR a bit differently since I finally saw that
episode where Larys kills his family there - apparently because Queen Alicent implied that she wanted it done. The rant about children being a weakness there was chilling. Does this Larys share that view, by the way?
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Yes, good episode! Matt Needham does an incredible job!
This Larys definitely does feel the pain and humiliation of the degradation heaped upon him by his affliction, and the way people have treated him on account of it. I doubt he's ever going to spell out his... philosophy, for want of a better word, in the way the show version of the character did. Book Larys is a mysterious character with ambiguous motives, so there's room to explore things in more depth later on in terms of what he thinks about the world in my view. But I doubt he holds much to conventional ideas of honour and morality in the world that the other characters do. I mean, nobody's ever treated HIM with chivalry, so it's not hard to see why he'd regard it as a bit of a sick joke, and he's not a good enough fighter to overturn the social order with swords, so deception and intrigue it must be.
Even the show character might get more depth added to him later, but I try to hew closer to my interpretation of what the book character in Fire and Blood might be like for this AAR, if that helps.
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Oh my, this is quite the lucrative position for Larys. I wonder if he can scheme his way all the way to king's landing or if he has some ambitions closer to home
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“I am afraid King Viserys has begun his move to strip you of your titles and perogatives. The Lordship of Riverrun, the Lord Paramountcy. He means to take it all.”
Lord Grover shook his head in bewilderment, “But why? I have committed no treachery, no falseness that would justify this!”
Larys sighed theatrically. “I am afraid His Grace has become more unforgiving of perceived slights of late. My lord’s… vacillations in the matter of Princess Rhaenyra’s death and the squabble with The Sea Snake were noticed by the crown.”
Lord Grover glared at Larys, but the Clubfoot did not quail, even in the face of Lord Tully’s anger at the implicit slight on his courage for his actions. “But non-action is not treason.” He protested, “The King cannot do this!”
“The King can, if his councillors and bannermen say he can,” Lord Larys replied, and his lips curved into a harsh smile. “Your lordship has few friends beyond these walls, as you know, and some will see opportunity in House Tully’s downfall, were you to be removed.”
“He means to take my son’s inheritance from them too?” Lord Grover blanched. His own treason was one thing, but the downfall of his whole house?
“I fear so, my lord.” Larys replied gravely.
“Then we must prepare to defend ourselves against these charges.”
“That… may be unwise.” Larys ventured, “I feel there may be a better way to affix a solution to these matters, if you will permit me to pursue it.”
Lord Grover subsided, glowering at him.
“What do you suggest?”
“I do have a certain… rapport with Queen Alicent. Her influence over his Grace’s mind is considerable these days, as the mother of his only living child…” Larys paused, steepled his fingers upon his cane. “I could… perhaps… persuade her to attempt to remonstrate with the King on your behalf?”
Grover Tully caught his breath. “You believe she would be amenable to such a request?”
“Coming from me, perhaps.” Larys replied, smiling slyly.
Grover leaned back in his chair, thinking hard. Despite not being the quickest or most imaginative thinker, he was far from stupid. He knew he stood little chance in open confrontation with King Viserys, and if what Larys said was true, then it was vital he head off any possible arrest before it was made. He had his sons futures to see to, after all.
“Alright. Mislike it though I might to rely on a Hightower to intercede for my behalf, I consent to you writing the letter. Do allow me to see a copy before you send it though.”
Larys bowed. “Most certainly, my lord.”
Two weeks later, back in Harrenhal, the Lord of the castle shut himself away and did not emerge for several days, taking meals in his study and speaking to nobody. When he finally emerged, he called for two ravens, and attached two separate letters to the birds, one of which flew for Riverrun, and the other for King’s Landing. Nobody had seen their contents, not even the Maester. Lord Larys Clubfoot had insisted the messages were of such import that he needed to compose them himself.
“Words heard by others may be mislaid in the telling.” Was all the Clubfoot said in response to his servant’s enquiries. “These must come from me and me alone.”
And so Lord Grover Tully received the Clubfoot’s letter, and was pleased, for it contained the contents of his plea to Queen Alicent on behalf of Lord Grover.
But in King’s Landing, the Clubfoot’s letter meant a very different reception.
King’s Landing
“Lord Grover means to rebel?” King Viserys was surprised. “I am surprised he would have the stomach for it. He has always been treacherous… but…”
“Lord Larys’s information is good husband,” Queen Alicent insisted. “He is perhaps the finest spymaster in the Kingdoms from all accounts, and I have no cause to doubt his loyalty to the crown.”
“Quite.” King Viserys replied, brow furrowed and face stony. There had been a change in the King since the death of his daughter and his acquisition of a dragon. He was harder now, more cold, more ruthless, and his willingness to tolerate the shortcomings of others, or to tolerate his brother Daemon, were far less then they had been before.
“Best then, that we move to arrest Lord Grover first,” King Viserys continued. I shall need my Kingsguard.” He beckoned to a servant, “Fetch me the Lord Commander, and Ser Otto Hightower.”
Both the Hand and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard arrived promptly, and Viserys gave the Kingsguard instructions, he would take a contingent of the City Watch, and a small section of Ser Otto’s household guard, to Riverrun to secure the arrest of Lord Tully.”
“Arresting a Lord Paramount is no easy matter Your Grace,” Ser Otto cautioned. “He might choose to throw caution to the winds, and summon his bannermen.”
“How many of whom will join him in open rebellion?” King Viserys asked, “Few, I suspect, knowing full well that Lord Grover is a man little loved for how… fluid, his allegiances can be. No, I suspect it shall be Lord Grover alone for the most part.”
“Then we must move quickly.” The Hand replied,
“We shall,” The Lord Commander affirmed, and swept from the room in a flash of white.
Riverrun,
“You assured me it would be dealt with…”
The anger in Lord Grover’s voice was palpable, but the Clubfoot did not quail under his gaze.
“It seems King Viserys has been sway to some… other influences, who have been convinced of your apparent treachery. My fireflies report plainly that the King has ordered your arrest already.”
“Then I have no choice,” Grover Tully’s face was deathly pale-white. “If I don’t call my banners, then whatever forces are compelling the Crown against me shall ensure my arrest and execution.”
“I fear so, my lord. Though I doubt the loyalty of many in the Riverlands extends so far as to hold to you against the crown.”
“Then I must make do with what I have,” Lord Grover replied, shrugging, “For my son’s sake if not my own.” He paused, glaring at the Clubfoot once more. “And you Lord Larys? Do I have your loyalty, as Lord of Harrenhal?”
The Clubfoot bowed. “You do, my lord.”
“Then I ask that you return to Harrenhal and summon your own banners, once I have gathered my forces, mine shall link with yours upon the Trident. No doubt the King will have his own forces marching north to meet us by then.”
“Most certainly my lord. Have no fear, you can be assured my loyalty never wavers.”
In the midst of the chaotic events that presaged Lord Grover’s uprising, it never occurred to him that it may have been possible that Larys’s letter to King Viserys might have been rather less glowing than he painted it as to Lord Grover. Thus the Clubfoot’s manipulations had their desired effect, and the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands was pushed into an open, though ill-fated rebellion against the Iron Throne…
OOC: Larys has manipulated Lord Grover and the King against each other now, but which way will he openly jump when the war breaks out?
Lord Grover shook his head in bewilderment, “But why? I have committed no treachery, no falseness that would justify this!”
Larys sighed theatrically. “I am afraid His Grace has become more unforgiving of perceived slights of late. My lord’s… vacillations in the matter of Princess Rhaenyra’s death and the squabble with The Sea Snake were noticed by the crown.”
Lord Grover glared at Larys, but the Clubfoot did not quail, even in the face of Lord Tully’s anger at the implicit slight on his courage for his actions. “But non-action is not treason.” He protested, “The King cannot do this!”
“The King can, if his councillors and bannermen say he can,” Lord Larys replied, and his lips curved into a harsh smile. “Your lordship has few friends beyond these walls, as you know, and some will see opportunity in House Tully’s downfall, were you to be removed.”
“He means to take my son’s inheritance from them too?” Lord Grover blanched. His own treason was one thing, but the downfall of his whole house?
“I fear so, my lord.” Larys replied gravely.
“Then we must prepare to defend ourselves against these charges.”
“That… may be unwise.” Larys ventured, “I feel there may be a better way to affix a solution to these matters, if you will permit me to pursue it.”
Lord Grover subsided, glowering at him.
“What do you suggest?”
“I do have a certain… rapport with Queen Alicent. Her influence over his Grace’s mind is considerable these days, as the mother of his only living child…” Larys paused, steepled his fingers upon his cane. “I could… perhaps… persuade her to attempt to remonstrate with the King on your behalf?”
Grover Tully caught his breath. “You believe she would be amenable to such a request?”
“Coming from me, perhaps.” Larys replied, smiling slyly.
Grover leaned back in his chair, thinking hard. Despite not being the quickest or most imaginative thinker, he was far from stupid. He knew he stood little chance in open confrontation with King Viserys, and if what Larys said was true, then it was vital he head off any possible arrest before it was made. He had his sons futures to see to, after all.
“Alright. Mislike it though I might to rely on a Hightower to intercede for my behalf, I consent to you writing the letter. Do allow me to see a copy before you send it though.”
Larys bowed. “Most certainly, my lord.”
Two weeks later, back in Harrenhal, the Lord of the castle shut himself away and did not emerge for several days, taking meals in his study and speaking to nobody. When he finally emerged, he called for two ravens, and attached two separate letters to the birds, one of which flew for Riverrun, and the other for King’s Landing. Nobody had seen their contents, not even the Maester. Lord Larys Clubfoot had insisted the messages were of such import that he needed to compose them himself.
“Words heard by others may be mislaid in the telling.” Was all the Clubfoot said in response to his servant’s enquiries. “These must come from me and me alone.”
And so Lord Grover Tully received the Clubfoot’s letter, and was pleased, for it contained the contents of his plea to Queen Alicent on behalf of Lord Grover.
But in King’s Landing, the Clubfoot’s letter meant a very different reception.
King’s Landing
“Lord Grover means to rebel?” King Viserys was surprised. “I am surprised he would have the stomach for it. He has always been treacherous… but…”
“Lord Larys’s information is good husband,” Queen Alicent insisted. “He is perhaps the finest spymaster in the Kingdoms from all accounts, and I have no cause to doubt his loyalty to the crown.”
“Quite.” King Viserys replied, brow furrowed and face stony. There had been a change in the King since the death of his daughter and his acquisition of a dragon. He was harder now, more cold, more ruthless, and his willingness to tolerate the shortcomings of others, or to tolerate his brother Daemon, were far less then they had been before.
“Best then, that we move to arrest Lord Grover first,” King Viserys continued. I shall need my Kingsguard.” He beckoned to a servant, “Fetch me the Lord Commander, and Ser Otto Hightower.”
Both the Hand and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard arrived promptly, and Viserys gave the Kingsguard instructions, he would take a contingent of the City Watch, and a small section of Ser Otto’s household guard, to Riverrun to secure the arrest of Lord Tully.”
“Arresting a Lord Paramount is no easy matter Your Grace,” Ser Otto cautioned. “He might choose to throw caution to the winds, and summon his bannermen.”
“How many of whom will join him in open rebellion?” King Viserys asked, “Few, I suspect, knowing full well that Lord Grover is a man little loved for how… fluid, his allegiances can be. No, I suspect it shall be Lord Grover alone for the most part.”
“Then we must move quickly.” The Hand replied,
“We shall,” The Lord Commander affirmed, and swept from the room in a flash of white.
Riverrun,
“You assured me it would be dealt with…”
The anger in Lord Grover’s voice was palpable, but the Clubfoot did not quail under his gaze.
“It seems King Viserys has been sway to some… other influences, who have been convinced of your apparent treachery. My fireflies report plainly that the King has ordered your arrest already.”
“Then I have no choice,” Grover Tully’s face was deathly pale-white. “If I don’t call my banners, then whatever forces are compelling the Crown against me shall ensure my arrest and execution.”
“I fear so, my lord. Though I doubt the loyalty of many in the Riverlands extends so far as to hold to you against the crown.”
“Then I must make do with what I have,” Lord Grover replied, shrugging, “For my son’s sake if not my own.” He paused, glaring at the Clubfoot once more. “And you Lord Larys? Do I have your loyalty, as Lord of Harrenhal?”
The Clubfoot bowed. “You do, my lord.”
“Then I ask that you return to Harrenhal and summon your own banners, once I have gathered my forces, mine shall link with yours upon the Trident. No doubt the King will have his own forces marching north to meet us by then.”
“Most certainly my lord. Have no fear, you can be assured my loyalty never wavers.”
In the midst of the chaotic events that presaged Lord Grover’s uprising, it never occurred to him that it may have been possible that Larys’s letter to King Viserys might have been rather less glowing than he painted it as to Lord Grover. Thus the Clubfoot’s manipulations had their desired effect, and the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands was pushed into an open, though ill-fated rebellion against the Iron Throne…
OOC: Larys has manipulated Lord Grover and the King against each other now, but which way will he openly jump when the war breaks out?
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Well, Larys is very much a serpent. The Lord Paramount of the Riverlands should never have trusted him...
Does Larys want the Riverlands for himself?
Does Larys want the Riverlands for himself?
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Oh dear, we might soon see the Tullys gone entirely! And after this? Does Larys have designs on a rather more uncomfortable throne?
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Seventh Moon, 109AC
The rebellion, when it came, proved far shorter and less significant a conflict than many had anticipated. A great house rising in open rebellion against the Targaryens was not a common occurrence, but Lord Tully, as it turned out, did not have a great deal of support among many of his river lords, a great many of whom ignored his summons of their levies, sealed themselves and their men inside their halls and awaited the response of the Iron Throne to Lord Grover’s treachery.
But Lord Tully had been assured of the Lord of Harrenhal’s support, and so what men he could gather he mustered to march to the God’s Eye.
The men were restless when they arrived on the shoreline, before the blackened and ruined towers of Harrenhal. Harren’s curse had seeped into the earth they said, and all who dwelt there were victims of it.
Lord Grover was not naturally a superstitious man though, and he intended to meet with Lord Larys, one of the few riverlords who had firmly indicated his desire to support Lord Grover’s position against the Iron Throne. Thus, he was heartened to see the Tully banner flying alongside House Strong from Harrenhal’s high towers.
“I shall give orders to the rest of the army once my meet with Lord Larys is complete,” the Lord Tully told his captains. Remain encamped upon the Godseye shore until you hear otherwise from me.”
So it was that the Lord Tully walked cleanly into his trap, and his army to it’s doom. For as the day lengthened and the shadows of the afternoon began to appear, a great host appeared on the far horizon from the south, far larger than Lord Tully’s men. And at their head, a great dragon, Tessarion had come, ridden by King Viserys Targaryen I.
The shouts of dismay turned to jeers as the banner of House Tully fell from Harrenhal’s towers, and the Red dragon banner of House Targaryen rose in it’s place. Some believed Lord Larys had intended to yield the castle, while a select few who had heard tales of the Clubfoot’s nature realised that they, and their lord, had been betrayed.
There was no battle worthy of the name upon the Godseye that day. Those who attempted to resist the royal host were slaughtered, which few did. King Viserys rode into Harrenhal to find Lord Grover already in a cage, his retainers slain and his household a hostage, which the Clubfoot presented with the appropriate level of supplication to one of royal authority.
“I am surprised that Lord Tully fell so easily into your clutches, Lord Larys,” King Viserys spoke to the Clubfoot afterwards. “I would’ve expected his caution and his prudence to prevail, for once.”
“I may have given Lord Tully… false assurances that he might be supported against the crown.”
“Assurances you would’ve doubtless meant, had you thought I might lose.”
Larys glanced at the King sharply. This was a different King Viserys to the one that had assumed the throne after King Jaehaerys’s death. This one had been hardened by the loss of his wife and son, and enraged by the death of Rhaenyra, his only daughter and chosen heir prior to his marriage to Alicent. He was a harder man, stronger in his convictions, and less tolerant of dissent and disagreement then in his old days. The Clubfoot cursed himself inwardly. He had to be more cautious with this man now than in days of yore.
“You wound me, Lord Tully had no chances of success, and my deceptions against him, such as they were, were purely designed to bring a quick end to the conflict. The Riverlands ablaze from dragonfire and subject to plundering armies would’ve been the result of any prolonged war. I sought merely to avoid that, to keep the king’s peace and the king’s laws, as is my requirement. Surely you could understand Your Grace, if I felt a minor deception of an attainted traitor to be worth the price, for such a prize?”
Viserys squinted in suspicion at Larys, unsure whether he could discern a certain oily cynicism beneath the fine words. But he said nothing on the subject for several long moments.
“Irregardless, I shall be needing a new Lord Paramount for the Riverlands. Queen Alicent has informed me that your friendship with the crown has been steadfast, Lord Strong.” The King’s face assumed a pained expression, “My condolences on your losses. Your father was a dear friend to the Crown, and to myself.”
“Your condolences are appreciated, your Grace.” The bent Clubfoot took an awkward bow. “I seek only to serve as my father did.” A small smile crossed his thin lips as he gestured towards his limp foot, “If not quite in the manner of his service.”
“Hmm.” King Viserys was silent again. “The Hand and the Queen both speak well of your service, my lord, and you have delivered the rebel Grover Tully into my clutches without the bloodshed that full-scale rebellion would’ve required. House Strong has kept faith with House Targaryen, and such service ought to be rewarded. Thus I name you, Lord Paramount of the Trident.”
“I-“ the Clubfoot’s face appeared shocked for a moment, but he quickly concealed it. “I thank you, Your Grace, for the honour. I shall serve you and your House as well as my ancestors have always done.”
“And keep any further rebellions from rising up among the riverlords?” the King asked, with a raised brow.
“Naturally” the Clubfoot replied, suppressing a small smile.
It broke out fully across his face only when the King departed. His loyalty had indeed been rewarded. Larys’s startling rise to power had been as quick as it had been meteoric. From a second son to Lord of Harrenhal to Lord Paramount within a few short years. Though he suspected many of the riverlords would bear him little love, and there were descendants of Lord Grover who would doubtless in future petition for the return of the title that House Tully had held since the Conquest, Larys in this moment cared little. He was on his way…
OOC: It's a real bugger for the rebels when you trick them into launching an uprising, then join the other side and kidnap the rebel lord leading them! Regardless, Larys got the title of Lord Paramount in the aftermath, so all the schmoozing the King and Queen he did earlier is paying off. Now he's a Lord Paramount, and can deal with the Iron Throne directly for a change...
The rebellion, when it came, proved far shorter and less significant a conflict than many had anticipated. A great house rising in open rebellion against the Targaryens was not a common occurrence, but Lord Tully, as it turned out, did not have a great deal of support among many of his river lords, a great many of whom ignored his summons of their levies, sealed themselves and their men inside their halls and awaited the response of the Iron Throne to Lord Grover’s treachery.
But Lord Tully had been assured of the Lord of Harrenhal’s support, and so what men he could gather he mustered to march to the God’s Eye.
The men were restless when they arrived on the shoreline, before the blackened and ruined towers of Harrenhal. Harren’s curse had seeped into the earth they said, and all who dwelt there were victims of it.
Lord Grover was not naturally a superstitious man though, and he intended to meet with Lord Larys, one of the few riverlords who had firmly indicated his desire to support Lord Grover’s position against the Iron Throne. Thus, he was heartened to see the Tully banner flying alongside House Strong from Harrenhal’s high towers.
“I shall give orders to the rest of the army once my meet with Lord Larys is complete,” the Lord Tully told his captains. Remain encamped upon the Godseye shore until you hear otherwise from me.”
So it was that the Lord Tully walked cleanly into his trap, and his army to it’s doom. For as the day lengthened and the shadows of the afternoon began to appear, a great host appeared on the far horizon from the south, far larger than Lord Tully’s men. And at their head, a great dragon, Tessarion had come, ridden by King Viserys Targaryen I.
The shouts of dismay turned to jeers as the banner of House Tully fell from Harrenhal’s towers, and the Red dragon banner of House Targaryen rose in it’s place. Some believed Lord Larys had intended to yield the castle, while a select few who had heard tales of the Clubfoot’s nature realised that they, and their lord, had been betrayed.
There was no battle worthy of the name upon the Godseye that day. Those who attempted to resist the royal host were slaughtered, which few did. King Viserys rode into Harrenhal to find Lord Grover already in a cage, his retainers slain and his household a hostage, which the Clubfoot presented with the appropriate level of supplication to one of royal authority.
“I am surprised that Lord Tully fell so easily into your clutches, Lord Larys,” King Viserys spoke to the Clubfoot afterwards. “I would’ve expected his caution and his prudence to prevail, for once.”
“I may have given Lord Tully… false assurances that he might be supported against the crown.”
“Assurances you would’ve doubtless meant, had you thought I might lose.”
Larys glanced at the King sharply. This was a different King Viserys to the one that had assumed the throne after King Jaehaerys’s death. This one had been hardened by the loss of his wife and son, and enraged by the death of Rhaenyra, his only daughter and chosen heir prior to his marriage to Alicent. He was a harder man, stronger in his convictions, and less tolerant of dissent and disagreement then in his old days. The Clubfoot cursed himself inwardly. He had to be more cautious with this man now than in days of yore.
“You wound me, Lord Tully had no chances of success, and my deceptions against him, such as they were, were purely designed to bring a quick end to the conflict. The Riverlands ablaze from dragonfire and subject to plundering armies would’ve been the result of any prolonged war. I sought merely to avoid that, to keep the king’s peace and the king’s laws, as is my requirement. Surely you could understand Your Grace, if I felt a minor deception of an attainted traitor to be worth the price, for such a prize?”
Viserys squinted in suspicion at Larys, unsure whether he could discern a certain oily cynicism beneath the fine words. But he said nothing on the subject for several long moments.
“Irregardless, I shall be needing a new Lord Paramount for the Riverlands. Queen Alicent has informed me that your friendship with the crown has been steadfast, Lord Strong.” The King’s face assumed a pained expression, “My condolences on your losses. Your father was a dear friend to the Crown, and to myself.”
“Your condolences are appreciated, your Grace.” The bent Clubfoot took an awkward bow. “I seek only to serve as my father did.” A small smile crossed his thin lips as he gestured towards his limp foot, “If not quite in the manner of his service.”
“Hmm.” King Viserys was silent again. “The Hand and the Queen both speak well of your service, my lord, and you have delivered the rebel Grover Tully into my clutches without the bloodshed that full-scale rebellion would’ve required. House Strong has kept faith with House Targaryen, and such service ought to be rewarded. Thus I name you, Lord Paramount of the Trident.”
“I-“ the Clubfoot’s face appeared shocked for a moment, but he quickly concealed it. “I thank you, Your Grace, for the honour. I shall serve you and your House as well as my ancestors have always done.”
“And keep any further rebellions from rising up among the riverlords?” the King asked, with a raised brow.
“Naturally” the Clubfoot replied, suppressing a small smile.
It broke out fully across his face only when the King departed. His loyalty had indeed been rewarded. Larys’s startling rise to power had been as quick as it had been meteoric. From a second son to Lord of Harrenhal to Lord Paramount within a few short years. Though he suspected many of the riverlords would bear him little love, and there were descendants of Lord Grover who would doubtless in future petition for the return of the title that House Tully had held since the Conquest, Larys in this moment cared little. He was on his way…
OOC: It's a real bugger for the rebels when you trick them into launching an uprising, then join the other side and kidnap the rebel lord leading them! Regardless, Larys got the title of Lord Paramount in the aftermath, so all the schmoozing the King and Queen he did earlier is paying off. Now he's a Lord Paramount, and can deal with the Iron Throne directly for a change...
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Lord Larys here vaguely reminds me of Littlefinger. That is a very bad thing... but he has the Riverlands now, so that makes him hard to deal with... except, perhaps, by knives in the dark.
If some of Lord Tully's soldiers knew of Larys's true nature, why didn't they attempt to warn him about the inevitable betrayal? Did they expect that Lord Tully would go forward with his rebellion no matter what?
If some of Lord Tully's soldiers knew of Larys's true nature, why didn't they attempt to warn him about the inevitable betrayal? Did they expect that Lord Tully would go forward with his rebellion no matter what?
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They didn't know. Some had "heard tales", (dad and brother dying and conveniently benefitting you is the sort of thing that might get noticed), and they were the ones who realised when the royal army showed up that Larys had sold them out, but his actual betrayal wasn't something they saw coming. They realised it only when it had already occurred, I thought wrote the post clearly enough to demonstrate, but if I didn't I'm happy to correct!
As for Grover, he had little choice. He was launching a sudden and ill-conceived rebellion which Larys had largely manipulated him into, and none of the other Riverlords of any significance actually came to help him, so Larys was his best bet
In-game I just pretty much was spying on him and was lucky enough to get him kidnapped within a couple of weeks of rebellion breaking out as his army started moving past Harrenhal. This was the closest way in-story I could find to approximate that in a way that made sense
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