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Celestial Hymn

Chapter 3

-VB-

The Brownspear Barony, I found, was a quaint place.

Placed deep in the Stormlands, it was no different from the rest of the Stormlands: rugged, windy, heavily forested, and sparsely populated.

It was … actually perfect for someone like me.

When one thinks about Celestial Forge, it’s normally about making really powerful weapons, shiny technologies, or inviting eldritch abominations into their life. Instead, all I got was a very good skill at making shit beautiful. And whatever mechanic it was that I got this power, it took me years to get it, which meant that I was not going to be safe in any heavily populated places like King’s Landing where intrigue and power plays were the norm.

Because a guy like me was certainly going to get involved in power-play whether I wanted it or not.

It was actually for that reason I chose to accept Prince Renly’s offer instead of Lord Paramount Lannister’s offer; there was no way that Westerlands was without power playing.

In Stormlands at the very least, I would only be disdainfully ignored for being both new and not being a warrior, which was apparently something the Stormlanders took pride in.

It was … a bad decision.

As much as the Westerlands was a land of intrigue, it was also somewhere that expected excellence in all things lordly. A lord must be a good lord. He could be cruel, greedy, or even a lustful bastard, but he had to maintain his land well. Lord Tywin expected no less from those whose actions reflected on him.

The Stormlands was a place that saw such things as beneath them and left the management of lands to stewards or castellans.

Especially a land that’s been without a proper owner like the Barony of Brownspear had been devastating to its infrastructure and management. It was a lot of work.

The castle that served as the seat of the barony was rundown; I had to spend a lot of dragons to fix it.

The roads were messy; I had to pour gold into improving the road.

There was no security; I had to hire peasants without any training and get the stuffy master-at-arms to train them.

See what I mean? It was actually too much work.

I probably spent the majority of my first year as a baron as nothing but a paperwork slave and manager.

It sucked.

What the fuck was this? When I accepted Renly’s offer, I thought that I was going to be a lord, not a logistics slave! I wanted a harem, I wanted power, I wanted to make wonders!

I wanted to cry right now.

Worst. Deal. EVER!

At least, I was able to get a small mine rolling, and the mine netted me some crystals I could use for the sake of my only magic skill.

… At the rate that things were happening for me, it was unlikely that I would be able to stay out of the big affairs of the kingdom. I felt it in my bones that I would be involved in the War of Five Kings.

I needed to protect myself.

I needed … a plan.

-VB-

“Milord…?”

I looked up. It was one of the maids of the castle, but my eyes were a little strained and the morning light cast a contrast that made looking at the door and the part of the room currently not baptized by the life-giving light too hard to see.

“What is it?” I muttered out. “Too sleepy…”

“A-Ah. It’s just that you asked us to alert you if there was anyone important that might be coming…”

Important? Who, like Renly? I only gave out that order like four weeks into my stay here, and it’s been a few months since then.

“Who is it?”

“According to the list you distributed… It’s King Robert Baratheon.”

… Well, then.

Maybe I could get one of my plans rolling.

---

“Of all places, I have no idea why your father would come to visit the fief of a lowborn,” mother snarled across from him in the carriage.

Joffrey, who sat next to mother, snarled just like her, but his eyes were focused elsewhere, looking out at the fields where the smallfolk farmers were working.

Myrcella fidgeted. She wasn’t used to these long carriage rides, and the bumpy road wasn’t making it any easier for her or Tommen. She wanted to rest, but she knew better than to ask; mother might not care, and even if she did care enough, then the moment they left the carriage, Joffrey might do something to the smallfolk outside.

He always did.

She kept quiet even as her stomach churned and squeezed.

And then she heard something that was like a cup of cold fresh water at the height of summer heat.

“Woah… We’ve arrived.”

She perked up along with Tommen, but she couldn’t move. Not yet. She was a princess, so she had to act only when it was proper for her. She didn’t burst out of the carriage no matter how much she wanted to and plant her feet solidly upon the sturdy and unmoving ground.

Mother looked out … and hummed. “A paved road this deep in the Stormlands? Unusual.”

Myrcella got curious. She looked out of the window just like her mother, and lo and behold, she saw what her mother was talking about.

No, she was more.

There was a pattern there on the road. Carved rocks that looked like they were nothing individually slowly came together.

Her mother and she gasped at the same time as they saw the whole picture at the same time.

The road was a mural, a beautiful mural that played out a scene of the best of the summer. Of happy people and feasts and celebrations.

The road was beautiful.

And as her gaze wandered, she soon realized that it wasn’t just the road. It was the whole town. Water fountains with intricately carved sculptures, flowerpots arranged tastefully in a smallfolk town, and more artistic touches decorated the town.

“Is this really a small town…?” she muttered to herself in disbelief. Many corners of the Red Keep looked worse off than here. Most of the capital looked worse than here.

“...majesty...to…”

“... Your town looks prettier than mine!”

And that was her father, boisterously laughing.

“Well, I was taken in by Lord Renly for my skills, your majesty,” the supposed lord’s words came out clearer this time. Were they getting closer?

A few more words were said, but in the shuffle of bodies close to the carriage, she couldn’t hear any of them.

“Ah, well. My kids and my wife!”

Mother stepped out first.

And then Joffrey.

And then she and Tommen.

When her eyes laid upon the supposed lord, she froze up.

Dressed not in armor or splendor, the lord was dressed in a long white robe that concealed everything beneath it. The robe had a hood that would have covered his head if not for the fact that he had drawn it back as it was proper for a vassal to show all of himself to their lord.

He also carried a long staff with a number of purple crystals embedded along the upper half of the staff’s length, complete with a large blue crystal encased in artfully twisted metal spines at the top of the staff.

She couldn’t help but feel that the crystals were glowing…

As for the lord himself, he looked … normal? Average looking if with narrow eyes and a smile that reminded her of snakes and foxes.

But it was a smile that wasn’t like the other snake she knew of: Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin.

“Ah, greetings, your highnesses and your graces,” the man bowed low, keeping one hand on the staff but still dipping low enough for his back to be horizontal with the ground. “It’s an honor. I am Baron Alan Marris of the Brownspear Barony. I welcome you all to the humble town Mallonton.”

And then their eyes met.

Myrcella shivered.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to return to the carriage…

---

She had magic.

The First Princess had enough magic for me to detect it.

How … fortunate.

I smiled as I led Robert Baratheon, the first of his name of his dynasty, to my castle where I had all of the beer acquisition from the town and beyond in the barony. Oh, I paid for it all, but not everyone had wanted to part with it.

But for my plan to work, I needed it.

I gave him and his retinue the feast they expected.

I laughed with the king as he made a raunchy joke.

As the day wore on, he drank and drank and drank.

He certainly didn’t notice my staff glowing lightly, not when I had it positioned very close to the braziers close to us.

He didn’t notice how I made him feel better about me. How friendly and trustworthy I was.

The next morning, he did something that went wildly against my plan.

“I hereby declare that Alan Marris is betrothed to Myrcella!” he boasted proudly, much to the ire of his wife and the shock of his high noble retainers.

I was not fucking expecting this.

-VB-

Rolled Powers

Makeshift Weaponry
Did you just duct tape that magic wand together? Never mind, apparently you CAN do that. Using exceedingly mundane tools, you are able to repair and make improvements to weapons that by all rights shouldn't be able to be repaired that way. Why yes, you CAN glue the detonation stick back together and make it work just fine. Oh and don't worry about that shattered elemental sphere, we can just tie it back together with twine!

Comments

John

That ending lol Out of curiosity can we vote for this story or is it only when you feel like you’re writing it? I definitely feel like it’s one of your best.

Vandalvagabond

It'll go up occasionally for voting, though it hasn't made it the last few times I put it up.

John

Gotcha. Well hopefully it’ll gain some popularity. Really enjoy the work you’ve put into this story.

Tom smith

Not going to lie. Forgot all about this story. Still a good story. I like how it’s going more artistry and fief building not just stronger armour n weapons etc.