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Chapter 22 - Growing Fame
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 22:05:01 +0000 UTCDorne
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“She did what now?” Meria Martell, unaffectionately called the Yellow Toad of Dorne due to her appearance, leaned forward, giving her full attention to Lord Wyl.
“Caught a crossbow bolt in the air and saved her grandfather, Lucan Penrose, from death.” Wyl of Wyl, also called the Widow-lover, repeated his previous sentence.
“Is that even possible?” The Princess of Dorne could wage wars, but fighting on the frontlines wasn’t exactly something she was trained to do.
“Not at all.” Wyl didn’t believe it either at first, but the news came from more than one source, not to mention old Lucan ordering the guard responsible to be put to death.
“That girl enjoys doing the impossible. What of Weeping Town and all the other ports that are popping up all over the Storm Kingdom?” Keeping an eye on your enemies was vital for planning, and the Storm Kingdom filling their coffers was not good for the future.
“Weeping Town is growing in trade every day, and the rest of the ports are seeing more ships. There is also news that Argella Durrandon is constructing another one of those Iron Works near the Parchments.” Wyl considered sending an assassin to get rid of the girl before she became a bigger issue, but Argilac protected her as if it was his sole purpose in life.
“Wonderful. What of that spy we sent to Weeping Town? Addam, was it?” Meria’s voice was dripping with sarcasm at the good fortunes of Argilac.
She, just like the other rulers no doubt did, had ordered spies to be sent to Weeping Town, and if the man was as good as he was said to be, they should learn something new.
“Yes, Princess; Addam Sand has returned, though he did not learn anything we don’t know. The Iron Works are protected at all times, and none of the blacksmiths could be coerced.” Wyl shook his head. He was disappointed at Addam, but he was too valuable to kill for one mistake and had sent him to Oldtown instead.
“And what of these rumors about the farming machines?” Burning their farms before they could reap the crops was one way Dorne kept the Storm Kingdom on the back foot, though with the speed their harvests were finished, that was becoming harder to do.
“True, unfortunately. They do the work that takes days in a fraction of the time, allowing their farmers to sow and reap more crops.”
“Argella Durrandon is becoming more dangerous than her father every day.”
—
Kingdom of the Reach
Highgarden
“I will forbid any goods from the Storm Kingdom from entering the Reach.” Mern declared before the court.
Reactions were mixed. Some didn’t care, those at the border didn’t like the idea, and the rest were pleased to hear it.
“Your Grace, that will only increase the animosity between the kingdoms, and they may cease purchasing grain and foodstuffs from us in retaliation.” Lord Arvin Ashford suggested caution, not only because the death of King Garse and several other nobles destabilized the Reach, but also because they were barely coming out of winter, unlike the Storm Kingdom, which had seen an unusually short winter compared to other kingdoms—according to maesters, it was a first as far as their historical records said—but also due to all the grain his lands sold.
“Indeed, with their grain output increased due to the new machines, they are not as dependent on us as before, but our luxury goods still find buyers.” Derron, Lord of Arbor, sold a lot of Arbor Gold and other expensive wines to the Stormlords, which meant their relations were neutral, as both sides didn’t want to anger the other and harm the mutual goodwill they had.
“That may be so, but with the iron and steel they are selling, not only are our blacksmiths running out of work and losing coin, but the enemy’s coffers are also fattening with our wealth.” Manfred Hightower was championing during King Garse’s time to ban the goods of the Storm Kingdom to no effect, though with his death, Mern had taken a harsher stance, much to his pleasure.
“Could we build an ironworks of our own?” King Mern asked. If they could, then the ban would be unnecessary, and they could stop buying from Weeping Town without starting any more trouble.
“We don’t know, Your Grace. The closest thing known are the forges of Qohor, but the Qohorik blacksmiths use slaves to move all the heavy tools they use.” Everyone knew that Qohor forged the best steel in the Free Cities, and much to Derron’s displeasure, they were far better than anything he had seen in Westeros.
“Maesters should have a general idea of how it works. We can try building it ourselves.” Manfred had discussed with the Citadel how to make one in Oldtown, and while they had ideas, there was no certainty yet, but it wouldn’t stop him.
“Then that is what we shall do.”
—
The Dragonstone
“Really? I have to admit, perhaps Argilac wasn’t just boasting when he talked about his daughter.” Aegon Targaryen, Lord of Dragonstone and rider of Balerion the Black Dread, chuckled, reading the latest reports he had received.
“Indeed. There are rumors that the Hoares are getting concerned about Argilac trying to take back the Riverlands if they continue to fill their coffers like that.” Visenya kept an eye on Westeros for the future plans of her husband, and mentions of House Durrandon, specifically Argella, were becoming more and more common.
“Has Argilac betrothed her to anyone yet?” Aegon put down the papers, focusing on his eldest sister-wife, as she was the one in charge of spying on Westeros.
“No, it is said that the princess doesn’t wish to marry; that’s why Argilac is taking another wife after so long.” Visenya thought that Argilac must be very weak-willed for allowing his daughter to act as she wished.
“The Storm King is getting old, isn’t he? No guarantee he could sire another child even if he weds, and that would leave Argella as his sole heir.” Rhaenys and Visenya did not seem to like where this was going as they tensed.
“So what, you’ll take a third wife?” Rhaenys asked with her arms crossed, mirrored by Visenya.
“No, I had someone else in mind.” Aegon glanced at Orys, who rolled his eyes at the implication.
“Let’s not make any plans based on someone’s fertility.” Orys hadn’t really thought about marriage, much less to a princess, but he wasn’t going to entertain the idea.
“Orys is right. We should focus on other matters. We already have too much to do; an eleven-year-old girl could afford to wait.”
—
The Parchments
9 BAC
Construction of the Iron Works of Parchments was indeed moving fast, though it was mostly the building itself rather than the mechanisms, since Ei was the only one with the perfect knowledge of how to build them.
Since the workers were brought from Weeping Town, they knew to listen to the princess, and without any storms or work accidents, construction was going to be much smoother and faster.
Ei was content with this, though Lucan’s usually calm and stoic mask was broken, and he was smiling in genuine joy at the wealth his lands would no doubt gain from this venture, as Weeping Town was currently doing.
She also inspected the coal mine and wasn’t happy with the lack of safety, something Lucan rushed to remedy.
Other than that little mishap, everything was going smoothly.
Except the crossbow incident. Everyone was talking about that.
People either looked at her with fear, reverence, or a mix of both. Rumors of her being blessed by the Seven had intensified, and even the clergy was getting onto it, calling her “the Blessed One.”
—
Jocelyn Penrose, granddaughter of Lord Lucan Penrose, was assigned to serve Princess Argella, her two-year-older cousin, as a lady-in-waiting during her stay in Parchments for the construction.
She was fascinated by the princess. Not only did she carry herself with dignity beyond her years, but Argella was also really clever, as people sing her praises every day. Jocelyn was also at the courtyard and saw how Argella saved their grandfather by snatching the crossbow bolt from the air.
It was something out of a tale, where the dashing hero saved the life of a noble, though in this case it was a heroine.
So Jocelyn asked Argella to teach her how to be just as great as she was, and the princess agreed and began to teach her administrative work.
Not what she was expecting.
But then Argella explained how she was going to need an aide in the future, and Jocelyn, if she worked hard enough, could be that.
Jocelyn thought the princess knew what she was doing, and between construction and her other work, her cousin held lessons.
—
Argella received several letters, one from her father, two from Weeping Town, and several lords had sent progress reports.
Her father said the preparations for the wedding were underway, but it would wait until she returned, and that Selena was wishing her good fortune in her endeavors. Argilac also reported their coffers were filling more each day with taxes and trade, and they could afford to better arm their men to defend the Marches.
Master Aren’s letter informed her the speed of iron and charcoal delivery was slowing their production and requested aid, though Ei could do nothing other than allocate more funds for the roads connecting Bronzegate to Parchments and the port to decrease the transportation time.
Lord Tommen gave assurances about the security of the Iron Works. He had gone far enough to arrest anyone who asked too many questions and deport them out of Weeping Town with a warning to never return.
Extreme, but necessary.
Iron Works of Parchments, and the looms promised to House Dondarrion, had sent the rest of the lords scrambling to finish their own improvements, as time was running out now.
—
It was a month before the new year when the construction was finished, and the whole town had gathered to watch as the Iron Works of Parchments started with the workers lowering the waterwheels, signalling the start of a new era of prosperity for the land of House Penrose.
With its proximity to Bronzegate’s iron mine and the coal mine barely a couple miles away, combined with a small but fast-growing port, this venture was going to be even more profitable than the one in Weeping Town.
Lucan enjoyed that immensely.
—
With the Iron Works starting its production, nobles gathered at Parchments and slowly made their way to Storm’s End for the king’s wedding.
Lucan, citing his old age and wishing to converse with his granddaughter alone, had sent Jocelyn to another carriage.
“Once Selena gives birth to a boy, what will become of him if he doesn’t become the king?” The question was gnawing at his mind. Argella would never agree to be a subordinate to anyone, especially not to a mortal.
“When the time comes, I will give him the title of the First Prince and make him the head of administration.” Ei was doing this to ensure the continuation of Durrandon blood and to get away from the dreary paperwork.
“If the boy and his descendants rule the kingdom, what will you do?” Lucan didn’t know what would happen once the fact that Argella is a god came out, besides mass chaos and the Faith’s inevitable uprising.
“Meditate, I suppose. Travel the world, perhaps, and do something about slavery while I am out there. I will return if something important happens or there is a crisis, but otherwise I don’t plan on involving myself too much once my plans come to fruition, besides setting up overall goals for the First Prince.” Ei did not feel like setting up commissions when there were a lot of noble houses, and none of them would accept other houses besides Durrandon having any dominion over them.
“Is that how you ruled back in Inazuma?” Lucan would have loved to see how a land ruled by an actual god ended up looking, but he would have to settle for living just long enough to see Argella’s rise.
“More or less. I had commissions who did the administrative work and handled the military affairs, but the final say was mine.” Ei gave a barebones explanation to not derail the conversation.
“Hmm. I suppose you would know better. What of Jocelyn?” The Lord of Parchments loved his granddaughter. She was a sweet and dutiful girl, but Argella’s interest in her had him excited.
“I was thinking of educating her to be a secretary, an aide who will organize my work.”
“Do you really need that?” He had seen firsthand hand how fast Argella handled work. If he was that fast, Lucan would have a lot fewe wrinkles for sure.
“Need? No. I am immortal; I can always find time to finish my work, but humans are not, and as such, any delays will be to their detriment. Also, it will be a step towards changing how women are viewed in this world.”
“It has been like this for eight thousand years; do you think you can change it?” Lucan knew this was dangerous territory. He too was of the mind that women should stick to the roles they had for the last eight thousand years, but saying that in front of Argella was a tremendously stupid idea, so he kept it to himself.
“I would prefer it happen through example and understanding, but if I have to take my blade to it, I shall do exactly that.” Her gaze told Lucan the future wasn’t going to be all good, for the lords of the kingdom at least.
