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The currents were changing. Shifts were happening. As King's Landing prepared for the grand wedding, some houses mourned their dead. Schemes were being woven while others were being destroyed.
Amidst all that, on a cold morning, Wylis and Brandon stood in wait at the docks as an incredibly large ship approached. A beautiful, four-masted carrack flying House Manderly's flag, escorted by two more smaller cogs.
Brandon wasn't in a good mood ever since he'd learned about Roose Bolton's plot. He had cursed and suggested storming the Dreadfort with a Northern host before it became too cold. He sent ravens to Ned, telling him to be on alert.
But Wylis kept his calm. Roose Bolton was but a pebble. The walls that made the Dreadfort lord feel safe were Wylis' toys. For now, he chose to tolerate the man, since he knew another rebellion was on the horizon. And he no longer was looking to gain fame and name, that time it'll be just reaping physical rewards.
Though seeing Lord Wyman's ship made him feel jealous. He wanted to buy one, instead of trying to build everything from scratch. He had enough treasures collected, and there was so much more to dig. Heck, with a ship, he could go for those sunken treasure ships around the Westerosi coast. There was also so much Valyrian steel to be dug out, even in Essos; the locations were in his head.
And I haven't even started with the Lannisters yet. Fuck, so much to do.
Soon, the gangway was dropped, and the inhumanly fat lord walked down. His massive belly jiggled in his expensive attire, a golden-threaded doublet with an equally extravagant white fur cloak on his shoulders. He had a sword dangling at his waist, and it looked too small despite being of normal size.
One, two, three, fucking four!
Wylis counted four chins, a record in its own right.
"Hah." Brandon chuckled suddenly. "My vertically gifted brother's horizontally gifted friend. When do you think he last saw his own cock? Years? Decades?"
"..."
Wylis almost pouted his lips, holding back his laugh. But then Brandon, the bastard he was, started snorting, trying to hold his own laugh, which made it worse for Wylis. He controlled it by thinking of Roose Bolton's ugly mug.
"Bahah! Wylis, lad!" Lord Wyman finally boomed, his voice as loud and amiable as ever. "That beard of yours does well. A proper northern face if ever I saw one."
Technically, Wyman should have first greeted Wylis as a lord, rather than rambling like they were long-lost friends. But Wylis didn't mind, Wyman Manderly was on a level where he didn't have to give a fuck about etiquette. Thought one day that would change for sure.
"Lord Wyman." Wylis went to shake hands.
"Lord this, lord that, bah. Come here, you great ox." Wyman wrapped the giant in a hearty hug. "I wouldn't be standing here, fattened up if you hadn't saved my arse in the battle. Seven hells, I still see you in my sleep, cleaving through those royalist dogs like a butcher at his block."
"I did as was my duty, my Lord."
The quest reward sure is working. He remembered the Savior of House Manderly hidden quest. The reward was House Manderly's friendship and Wyman's admiration of epic proportions. He just hoped it wasn't the dead Mad King's type.
"Humble, eh? Look at you, already fitting in like a proper lord."
Then, Wyman walked over to Brandon and gave him a quick hug as well. "Alive, well, and before me! That is a gift worth more than silver. Not all was lost, thank the Seven."
Brandon jerked a thumb at Wylis. "Should thank our tall friend here. The Mad King wanted me as bait to catch him. Then tossed me in the Black Cells and, Gods help, probably forgot."
From there, they laughed and walked into town. Lord Wyman's second son, Wendel, had also joined them. While not as fat as his father, he looked strong with his walrus mustache, already balding despite being Wylis' age.
Thankfully, Lord Wyman didn't bring a large retinue of guards and servants with him because Wylis really didn't have a place to hold that many people. That again reminded him that behind Wyman's friendly and loud exterior was a hidden, shrewd, calculating, and intelligent mind. His fat body was supposed to be a clever front, though Wylis doubted that. The man just loved to fucking eat junk.
"Seven hells, must be over a decade since I last waddled my way here," Wyman commented, eyeing the small town, no longer smiling. "A folly of mine. They're worse off than my memory allows."
"Half of the coin earned was being stolen. They were being forced to do hard labour for simple meals, no coin." Wylis explained and took the fat lord into the castle.
He had sent the women upstairs, except for Lyanna, since she was his official wife. For now, she had colored her hair darker and wore heels that made her seem taller. Her face was naturally different to a small degree since her time in Winterfell, thanks to pregnancy. Unless it was Ned or Benjen, recognizing her was near impossible.
"And this is my beautiful wife, the lady of this castle, Ellyn Kaiser." Wylis introduced Lyanna as she greeted back and offered her hand.
"My Lord."
"Ah, so this is the blossom I've heard so much about. Aye, Wylis sure plucked a beautiful flower. It's my pleasure to meet you, my Lady."
So I'm just Wylis, and she's a lady?
Wylis was on the verge of believing that Wyman was testing him. Or trying to set up power dynamics while hiding it under jokes and laughter.
After that, they arrived at the sizable dining hall with a large table. It was slightly decorated for the day, trays of food already placed there. It was everything that Wyman enjoyed—boiled eggs, capons, eels, lampreys, pork pies, and sausages.
Wylis led them to their seats. He didn't bother giving the fat lord a special seat higher than his own, or anything special. Ramsgate was under King Robert, not the Manderlys. He took his seat in the middle and let Lyanna take the one on his right, then Brandon. On his left sat Wyman and his son.
"Ah, I like the smell of this!"
What followed was a simple, small feast. Wyman ate like a pig, something of everything as it was all to his liking. Nothing serious was discussed during that time, just matters of the King's marriage, the situation in Winterfell, and Brandon explaining he had left Winterfell.
Wyman tried to set up a betrothal between Brandon and his granddaughter, Wynafryd. But Brandon quickly backed out; since the girl was just three years old and he was twenty-one.
After eating, Wylis led them into what he called the living hall, the simplistically decorated sitting area for guests. Moments later, the castle's ex-steward, Brennard, was brought over. The old man had become thin even though Wylis offered decent meals.
"My Lord!" Brennard dropped hard to his knees, his hands chained, a rope tied to them that the two guards held, keeping the man from running around. "Mercy, I beg you. I was blind, aye, blind as a fool. I'll repent, anyway you punish, only spare me."
Lord Wyman sneered and gave a nod to his son.
Wendel Manderly stood up, walked over to Brennard and—
Bam!
Wendel punched Brennard on the face, hard enough to draw blood from his mouth. After that, Wendel returned to the lounge beside his father.
"There, that is all the punishment you'll hear from me. The rest is for Lord Wylis, as the land is his by right. And I'm not here for you, Brennard. You surrendered your life the day Lord Wylis caught you. No use begging me, not after the sins you committed—Seven, take him out of my sight."
Moments later, the spy from Dreadfort was brought over. He was missing a few more nails now, a broken man to look at. There was fear and submission in his eyes, having lived with his brother's rotting head in his cell.
"He's Holland Avery. From the Boltons' lands, came south with his brother. Set up a fish shop at the docks…" Wylis explained and then made the man confess all of it. Wyman already knew most details since the raven had contained them.
By the end of the easy interrogation, the room was silent. Rare, but a trace of anger was visible on Lord Wyman's face. After all, this matter was a slap on his face as much as an attempt on Wylis' life. Roose had been running his scheme with Brennard for years, since long before Wylis gained Ramsgate. And then, the same assets were used to attack Wylis, making the whole ordeal his folly, his blunder.
"I hadn't thought the Boltons so bold," Wyman said with a weary breath. "Savage still, and treacherous as ever. A blight upon the North."
"Couldn't agree more there," Brandon said. "And as far as I know Roose, this won't be the last time he does something like this."
"Treacherous bastards." Wyman cursed and looked at Wylis. "What do you want to do, Wylis?"
Wylis again? What happened to all that admiration? That was only for battle?
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