#mathis rowan

[lopata-four]

Mathis Rowan & Bethany Redwyne 💖

[andrekros]

038. Cersei V

house of lies, city of blood

asoiaf ff | fem!oc centric

summary: a council meeting tests cersei's patience word count: 1.764 warnings: none

masterlist

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Her father hated what had happened, but she was nothing but elated. The betrothal was averted and Cerelle would forever remain hers. No matter what those small council lordlings said, after the assassination at her dear child's name day, neither gods nor men could force her to allow another betrothal attempt.

They liked to talk about that murder as well; that bastard's pathetic death luckily being treated as the major safety concern to her children it was. What if the assassin had hit Tommen or Cerelle? What if the bastard's infection had been an accident and they had meant to kill someone else? What if they struck again?

“It is near impossible to say conclusively how Harry Rivers was poisoned,” Pycelle said in his slow, infuriatingly dragging voice. “Or by whom.”

“Has any of the poison been removed from your holds recently?” her father asked.

“Only what had been stolen by Lord Tyrion.”

“It isn't a particularly difficult poison to make,” Oberyn chimed in almost absentmindedly. “Harvest the flower's sap, drop it into a goblet, and you're finished.”

“I suppose you have quite the experience with it, Prince Oberyn,” Cersei said with a smile.

He responded with a grin of his own.

“Do we know why Harry Rivers was killed?” Tommen asked.

Her sweet little boy had begun attending council meetings recently, saying he would rule without a protector on his own one day and needed to learn. Pride always filled her heart when she saw him. He was slowly turning into the perfect king she had always known he would become.

“Not currently, Your Grace,” Varys said. “We have assumptions. One being that after the previously thwarted attempt on his life by his sisters, they have now come to finish the task.”

“Could it be connected to House Bracken's renewed oath to the crown?” Mathis Rowan asked. “Perhaps someone loyal to House Stark wanted to send a message.”

“Why choose a bastard for such a thing?” Mace asked. “These people are expendable, no one cares about their death.”

“He was here,” her father answered. “That sends more of a message than had it happened in a castle far away.”

Suddenly, a knock on the door, and it swung open not soon after to let in the red and golden clad Addam Marbrand, the Commander of King’s Landing’s City Watch.

“Your Grace, my lords, my lady.” He bowed rather shallowly, then straightened and tightened the grip around his golden helmet. “I apologise for not coming to you sooner, but I did not want to bother you with gossip. And verifying the tales I heard took longer than I thought.”

“Get on with it,” her father said.

Addam nodded, and took a breath. “The Golden Paladin is in King's Landing.”

Silence. No one dared move, no one dared even breathe, it seemed, everyone too stunned by this sudden revelation.

Her father raised a brow. “Last I heard she died at the Red Wedding.”

“I am not certain if it is actually her, my lord. But there is someone looking like and acting like and claiming to be the Golden Paladin in this city.”

Cersei rolled her eyes. She had been so happy to finally be rid of this pathetic pretender, House Frey ridding them of two annoyances in one night, something she had hoped that Benjiamin Vypren to be capable of. Hearing this nuisance had allegedly survived left her hoping those weasels at least succeeded in their main task. Especially after Lord Walder had died during the wedding.

But what did the Paladin now want in her city? Had she grown tired of the rainy and foggy forests of the Riverlands and now planned to terrorize them here? Or…

Her uncle Kevan spoke what she had been thinking. “Could the Paladin be behind the assassination?”

“It is certainly a possibility we need to investigate,” her father answered, tapping his fingers onto the table.

Most annoyingly, their talk quickly returned to dull topics afterwards - trade and harvests and the election of a new High Septon that called itself the High Sparrow and the Iron Bank and the lack of communications from several Riverlander Houses never failed to make her almost fall asleep. And yet, when the council meeting was finally declared finished, her father commanded her to remain.

He stared at her, green eyes as deep and terrifying as they had been her whole life. “You need to stop rejecting your daughter's betrothal.”

“I do not know what you are referring to.” She straightened in her chair, unwilling to let him control her. “I am merely concerned over the potential threats she is facing.”

“She is to become Lady of Storm's End and for that she-”

“She is my daughter! Not yours! You will not play your little games with her as well, I will not allow it.”

Cersei did not want to scream while her son was sat right beside her, but her father needed to understand.

“I know it is you who has planted these ideas in Cerelle's head,” her father continued. “Why else would she vehemently deny the importance of this marriage now, after having already agreed to it weeks ago? Especially now that she knows what is at stake.”

“Cerelle is opposed to marriage?” Tommen asked curiously.

Her father considered for a few moments. “That she is.”

“Perhaps I could talk to her.” He raised his chin in an effort to look strong. “I know she would listen to me, as I listen to her. I could tell her about Margaery and me, and how such a connection is beautiful.”

“A good idea indeed, Your Grace.”

“Do you have someone in mind to marry her to?”

Cersei could not believe it. Her sweet boy going against her reasonable concerns and wishes and listening to her father, of all people. She would need to talk to him and convince him - without anyone else present - that it would be best for Cerelle to stay here, with them. Unmarried, and forever hers.

A while later, she found herself walking through the gardens by Tommen’s side, one of the servants leading the way through the endless maze of bushes and trees and flowers and aggravating onlookers. That she had even needed to request help in finding her daughter had almost put her off the idea of talking to her. But she needed to. She could not let her children speak without her presence.

The servant boy stopped, turned, and raised his hand to the side. Then he bowed and hurried away.

The place he had pointed to was an opening between two old trees, Ser Balon and two other soldiers standing guard before them, red and brown leaves littering the path toward a small terrace, from which loud laughter sounded. Tommen dragged her along with him without a second thought.

All conversation broke off as they drew near, some smiling and some looking rather annoyed, yet every single person rose from their place on the couches and settees to curtsy and bow before their king.

The Princess’ Court, Cersei had it heard being called. Her sweet daughter had repaired this place to make it a respectable congregation point for herself, her ladies in waiting, and any other visitor wishing to curry favour with the princess.

Currently, Cerelle stood beside Helena Terrick, a lady from the Riverlands that had only recently arrived at the capital, yet had immediately wormed her way into her daughter’s good graces and grabbed herself the position of lady companion. Beside her, Lelia Lydden and Constance Serrett - two of her own choices for attendants for her daughter - as well as Sansa Stark and some Hightower boy had taken up their place on the terrace.

“Mother. Tommen.” Her daughter’s smile seemed forced, and it took everything inside Cersei not to immediately drag her away from these people clearly making her uncomfortable. “To what do I owe the honour?”

“There is something I want to discuss with you,” her son said. “But it is not urgent, so if I am interrupting something of importance-”

“No, it’s alright. If you would excuse me.”

Cerelle quickly fell into step beside her brother, Cersei walking behind them just for now so the two siblings could talk. Of course, she would raise her voice should anything untoward be spoken.

“How are you?” Tommen asked. “Have you recovered from what happened on your name day?”

“Mostly, I think. I have seen worse on my travels, but experiencing such a thing in a place that was supposed to be safe feels different.”

“I understand. I still sometimes think about Joffrey, even if I do not want to.”

“Aye. Such an image is difficult to banish from your mind.” Cerelle brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, half-hazardly trying to push it back into the intricate web of braids falling down her back. “But I assume that is not why you sought me out.”

“No.” He hesitated, then said, “Why do you not wish to get married?”

“I- I do wish for it. But this is all happening too quickly. I have barely returned and now everyone wants me to leave again?”

“But you would not have to leave. I’m the king, I could ask your husband to let you stay for a while longer.”

She let out a sound that almost sounded like a laugh. “I doubt grandfather will let you do this.”

“He will understand.” Tommen grabbed his sister’s hand to force her to look down toward him. “I just want you to be happy. And I am happy married to Margaery, so maybe this is what you need as well.”

Cerelle clearly struggled with her words, desperate to find anything that would free her from this conversation. Her daughter looked so much like her in this light, Cersei could not help but feel proud. Nothing of her father - any of them - remained in her.

“I… shall think of it.”

Cersei quickly put on her most convincing smile and stepped up to her children, snaking her hands around her daughter’s arm and pressing her close. “No more of this talk. Let us simply be glad we can all be here today, as a family, and speak of happier matters.”

Cerelle let out a badly concealed sigh of relief.

She did not even mind when her children began speaking of Dorne once more, and Essos and the problems at the Night’s Watch, for those things laid far, far out of their reach. As long as Cersei prevented any marriage negotiations, they could all remain here.

With her for eternity.

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[dorneuniverse]

Elia Martell Week: Day 3 - Confirmed/potential friends and allies

[wpmorse]

For this batch of character sketches for my upcoming Clash of Kings sketch challenge we follow Catelyn to the Reach just in time to witness the Melee at Bitterbridge to meet King Renly Baratheon and his supporters.

The biggest challenge of this batch was to force the image of Gwendolyn Christie out of my head, and learn how to draw the “real” Brienne of Tarth, the poster child for the phrase “she’s got a nice personality”. Happily I think she’s growing on me.

[sayruq]

lol maybe I'm a little slow but I just realized Mathis Rowan's wedding gift was a red silk pavilion aka akin to the red silk covering Elia and her children's mauled bodies. Wow that's powerful ... we stan this man.

mathis is really winning me over right now

[goodqueenaly]

Where do you think does House Rowan rank among the houses of the Reach / the houses of Westeros? With regards to the Reach, right after House Hightower and House Redwyne? After all, they seem to own a lot of fertile land, have their own vassals and apparently (according to the map from TWOIAF) Goldengrove is actually a town. Also, with Lord Mathis’ heir seemingly being a daughter, who could you see as a potential husband for her?

I would put the Rowans in the second tier of the Reach - below the Tyrells, Redwynes, and Hightowers, who are on the first plane, but still solidly within the old and established Reacher aristocracy. The Rowans, like all the best reacher Houses, can trace their descent to a named offspring of Garth Greenhand, which gives the family plenty of blue blood cachet. In the aftermath of the Field of Fire, the Rowans were one of the families that, according to Yandel, “had older and more distinguished lineages than the Tyrells, and closer blood ties to House Gardener as well”. What the Rowans’ wealth and strength are relative to, say, the Tarlys or the (red apple) Fossoways or the Caswells, I don’t know, but between trade along the Mander (and sitting on the northern border of the Reach, the Rowans would be in a prime position to oversee the transport of gold and silver from the mines in the nothern hills downriver), tributes from vassals (I sincerely doubt the Osgreys and Webbers are the only two, and going by either historically I’d say Goldengrove’s vassals do very alright for themselves), and the natural bounty of the Reach, I’d say the Rowans are near the top of the Reach food chain. That the current lord is married to a scion of House Redwyne and another Rowan is the wife of the heir to House Hightower should be sufficient indication of the family’s standing in the Reach.

As far as Mathis’ heirs are concerned, we don’t know for certain that he doesn’t have any sons. Only one daughter is mentioned in canon - the daughter caught in bed with Daeron the singer - and none of the appendices mention any children, although the A Song of Ice and Fire Campaign Guide states that Mathis and Bethany have three daughters. Supposing that Lord Mathis does only have a daughter (or multiple daughters), it’s a hard question in terms of her marriage (or their marriages). It’s possible Mathis would have married her off quickly in the wake of the Dareon affair, a la Amerei Frey; while I doubt he would have settled on a hedge knight (after all, any scandal seems to have been kept relatively contained, compared to Amerei’s sexual experiences), Mathis may have looked into marrying her off in order to curb (what he might have seen as) the potential for further scandal. As I suspect might have happened with Anya Waynwood (and probably plenty of other ruling ladies in the history of Westeros), Mathis’ daughter might have been married to a Rowan cousin to keep Goldengrove with the Rowan name. It’s possible Mathis’ daughter would have been married to a Goldengrove vassal: while the Osgreys have probably died out and I think the Rowans might have reabsorbed Coldmoat into their own lands, there could well be other vassals who would make a husband for Lady Rowan, and wouldn’t be able to challenge her power as Lady of Goldengrove. It’s also possible that Lady Rowan would be married to a younger son of one of her family’s nearest neighbors - a Fossoway or a Crane, perhaps - whose family name would reinforce her own elite status in the Reach.

[warsofasoiaf]

Do you think that Hightower and Tarley will betray the Tyrells for Aegon VI?

I think Tarly and Rowan are the two major future betrayals in store for the Tyrells. Hightower will be too busy with stuff in the west to worry about the Aegon VI landing.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[sayruq]

What do you think of Lord Rowen in the small council? Tyrion notes that he's the only one to be disgusted when Tywin pretends he didn't order the deaths of Elia. Do you think he actually cares or is just like against the idea bc human rights?

he seems okay, we haven’t gotten many scenes with him so i don’t really have a solid opinion but it’s interesting that a reacher like him is upset with elia’s murder. given how racist mace and the others are towards the dornish, you’d expect him to be