Building an Empire in Game of Thrones (REWORKED VERSION)-Chapter 78: The Small Council Makes a Move

News of the betrothal between House Arryn and House Martel came as a shock to the entire continent. With continent being separated and preparing for multiple kings to battle, many thought that places like the Vale would just sit back and watch the conflict without ever joining any sides.

But it seems that this was not the case. They were joining sides with Dorne who was already aligned with the Imperial Union making an iron clad alliance between the two great Houses and the Imperial Union.

Within the walls of the Small Council meeting, the letter was currently presented before the members of the Council including King Joffrey who was not pleased to hear the news.

He slammed his small fists on the table as his anger grew, "This is a rebellion, if we allow them to join with that filthy empire, then we will be surrounded on all sides by enemies to the crown."

Despite his anger, he did speak some truth. If House Arryn joined hands with House Martell, then that would create a powerful alliance between the Vale and Dorne, protected by the Imperial Union.

Cersei knew this as well and had a very risky plan that if successful would secure the Vale, but if not, then it would just create another enemy in the North.

Sitting at the opposite end of the table, Tyrion Lannister, who is serving as Hand of the King in place of Tywin had something to say on the matter.

Tyrion sipped from his wine cup and set it down gently, "Well," he said, "we did always know the Vale was stubborn. But now they've found a friend in the snake pit of Dorne and a benefactor in this black-cloaked emperor. What did you expect, Your Grace? That they'd wait for us to come begging?"

Joffrey scowled. "You speak as if it's a good thing!"

"I speak as if it's inevitable," Tyrion replied. "And if we want to stop the bleeding, we'll need more than outrage. We'll need leverage."

Varys leaned forward, as he had just what they needed. "Leverage, yes. And as it happens, there may be some... unresolved business in the Vale. A thread we've not pulled."

Cersei narrowed her eyes. "Speak plainly, Varys."

Varys smiled softly, turning to his left. "Littlefinger."

Littlefinger was surprised for a moment as Varys called him out, but remembering his past relationship with Lady Arryn, he knew what was about to be discussed. "Hear me out," Varys continued, "Lady Arryn is not a woman who forgets her lovers lightly. It might be possible to..." he trailed off wanted somebody else to saw what he couldn't.

"Swing the Vale to our side" Joffrey stated, his patience waning as this meeting was getting dragged on.

Littlefinger smirked at the king. "It's certainly a possibility, your grace." He nodded at Varys. The Spider always knew how to stroke his ego just right at times.

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Tyrion took another gulp of his wine before adding his two cents. "With the proper amount of flattery and promises, you might just success, Baelish." Tyrion said leading back in his chair. "But let's not forget who we are dealing with here. A love-struck woman led by a man with a system we don't fully understand."

Nods of agreement circulated around the table as Littlefinger shot Tyrion an appreciative glance. No one else on this council would see him as anything more than an up jumped brothel keeper.

But the Imp was another matter entirely. They understood each other and there was somewhat of respect between them. The two shared a unique perspective, an understanding of the shadows that lingered beneath the surface of the realm.

Joffrey, however, didn't have the experience to see the effects their plan would have so he asked another question. "Why not just send an assassin?"

"Because" said Varys, "that would drive them further into the arms of the Empire. Right now, the match is fresh. Artys has agreed, but the ink is barely dry. If someone close to Lysa were to... raise concerns, about the Dornish, about the Targaryen boy, about the true intentions of the Imperial Union, then perhaps the Vale's support could be undermined before the marriage is sealed."

While Varys said this openly, he knew from the information he could gather that a storm was coming to the Continent one way or another. The Imperial Union with or without the Vale would make their way to Westeros. The only question he had to ask himself was if his current situation was the correct path or was it no longer a wise path for him to continue to take.

Tyrion and Cersei had their own opinions on Littlefinger. Cersei saw him as a movable pawn that could be sacrificed for her benefit. Tyrion while he understood Littlefinger and had some respect for him as somewhat of an ally in this game they were playing, he also knew that he was a man who would sell his own mother for a better title.

Ultimately it was decided that he would depart for the Vale to try and manipulate Lady Arryn into breaking the betrothal before they got married.

———

Meanwhile at Riverrun, the Lannister forces led by Jaime Lannister were besieging the castle for the third week in a row. Supplies were beginning to run low inside the Tully stronghold, and the river had been blockaded by Lannister boats upstream.

Edmure Tully had refused multiple offers of surrender. He still believed reinforcements from the North, or the Vale might come, though neither had answered his ravens. The reason for this was because the ravens never arrived.

While Jaime Lannister focused on wearing down the walls, Robb Stark had other plans. He had moved swiftly through the woods, guided by Blackfish Tully and a dozen of his best riders. With the majority of the Lannister host camped around Riverrun, their supply lines stretched thin, and Jaime confident in his siege, Robb struck where they least expected.

The Whispering Woods was thick and dense, its trees tall and clustered tightly together. A perfect place for an ambush.

It was just before dawn when the first of the Lannister scouts were found dead, throats slit, arrows through their eyes. A patrol never returned, and by the time word reached Jaime, it was already too late.

The Stark forces poured out from the woods like wolves, fast, furious, and without mercy. Robb led the charge himself, Grey Wind riding ahead of him. Roose Bolton, took the left flank, while the Greatjon led from the right.

The Lannister camp, unprepared for a strike so deep behind their lines, erupted into chaos. Tents burned, horses panicked, and men stumbled over each other in the dark trying to arm themselves.

Jaime Lannister, awakened by the noise, emerged from his tent fully armored, sword in hand. He was halfway to forming a defensive ring with his bannermen when a spear took one of his guards through the throat.

"Form ranks!" he shouted. "Stand your ground, damn you!" But it was no use.

The fighting was brutal and short. The Lannister men fought hard, but they were scattered, disorganized, and caught completely unaware. Within the hour, the entire force was either slain, routed, or captured.

And Jaime Lannister, golden knight of Casterly Rock, was found by Grey Wind, pinned against a tree, sword gone, breath short, with Robb Stark's blade pointed at his throat.

"You're a long way from your father's walls," Robb said.

"And you're a boy playing at war," Jaime growled, though he did not struggle.

"Then it must sting all the more to lose to me."

Grey Wind growled, showing his teeth.

Jaime smirked at the fact that he got caught. "So, what now, Young Wolf? Kill me and you prove you're no better than the rest of us. Spare me and you give my father reason to burn the North to the ground."

"I'm not killing you," Robb said, lowering his sword. "You're a bargaining chip that we will use against the Lannisters." Jaime didn't know the truth that Ned Stark was alive, so he was wondering why Robb didn't kill him to take revenge for the death of his father and their bannerman.

The camp became quiet in the aftermath of the battle. Stark banners flew high over the woods. Prisoners were rounded up, the wounded treated. Word was sent to Riverrun; the siege was broken.

The North had won a stunning victory. But the real threat was far from over. Tywin Lannister had marched his army East, capturing the castles of the river lords along the way. With Jaime's army now defeated, he would have to turn his army around to fight the Northern Host and tame them once and for all.

———

In Valyria, the reconstruction efforts were going well. Maximus had just arrived within the city as the hundreds of thousands of people who died during the war had been laid to rest in a massive region which was called the Land of the Fallen.

It would be the place where past, present, and future warriors who died fighting for the Imperial Union would be laid to rest as brave warriors who took up the sword to fight for something greater than themselves.

Maximus stood at the very beginning where the first soldier was laid to rest. Behind him was the entire Imperial Harem who wore their ceremonial clothes to honor the dead.

Maximus proceeded towards the first grave where he placed his hand on the tombstone of the warrior and offered a silent prayer. The entire scene was being played around the empire as the people joined him in honoring their dead.

He continued to do this with each tomb for several hours without stopping even once.

By the time Maximus reached the hundredth grave, the sun had begun to set over Old Valyria. The sky was orange, casting long shadows across the endless rows of carved obsidian tombstones. Each one bore the sigil of the fallens Legion, etched beneath the symbol of the Imperial Union.

No banners flapped; no horns blew. Only the slow sound of the emperor's footsteps and the soft rustling of silk as the Imperial Harem followed behind. Not a single one of them dared speak.

Each grave was marked not just with a name, but a story. Small metal plates beside the stones listed their final battle, their legion, and a single word left by their commander, Valiant, Unyielding, Honored.

Maximus knelt at a grave marked simply: "Aurius of Volantis. Died shielding his brothers during the Siege of Maximus. Unyielding."

He rested his hand on the cold stone and whispered something no one could hear. Then he stood, clenched his fist over his heart, and moved on.

At the center of the Land of the Fallen was a circular dais. Upon it, a massive black pyre stood unlit, and beside it, a brazier of eternal flame drawn from the heart of the rebuilt city. As Maximus approached, an Imperial Guard stepped forward and handed him a torch.

He held the torch high, then touched it to the pyre. Flames rose towards the sky. The fire would burn for three days and three nights.

As the fire roared behind him, Maximus turned to speak. His voice was low, but it could be heard across the crowd and throughout the realm.

"These men and women died not as tools of war, but as shields for peace. Not for glory, but for legacy. Let it be remembered: the Empire was not forged by gold or greed, but by sacrifice. And it shall be held together by the memory of those we lost."

The crowd lowered their heads. Even the elite Imperial Guards dropped to one knee.

"We call this the Land of the Fallen," Maximus said, stepping down from the dais, "but let no one think them forgotten. Their names are etched into the soul of this Empire. So long as I draw breath, we will not forget them. Not today. Not ever." The ceremonial drums began to beat as he ended his speech.

Behind him, a choir of boys and girls from across the Imperial Union, raised and educated by the state, began to sing the Anthem of the Dead. A melody sung in six languages. A song of mourning, a song of honor.

Maximus remained in Valyria for the next few days before he departed back to Heaven's Reach.