"You look beautiful, Cat." Lysa Tully sighed with envy as she watched Catelyn stand in front of the large looking glass in a gown of blue silk with long flowing sleeves. Every inch of it was covered with an embroidered design of silver trouts and mud red swirls. She donned a silver trout necklace fashioned from silver and allowed a maid to brush her wavy tresses of auburn hair.
"You do too." Catelyn smiled at her younger sister who looked equally pretty in a dark blue gown that complemented her rather pale complexion. Lysa was not usually so pallid, but over the last few weeks, she had been confined to her chambers. Their father had told her Lysa was ill. Lysa made a face. "You are taller than me," she pointed out. "The king is of looming height – so handsome too! Oh Cat! You are the more fortunate of us two!"
"You forgot Edmure."
Lysa shrugged. "Edmure is our brother; he will always be more lucky than either of us girls. When will you and the king wed?"
Catelyn thought for a moment. "When Lord Stark returns from Dorne. I doubt the king will marry me without his childhood friend present." Lord Stark. Last year she was to wed Lord Brandon Stark and become the future Lady of Winterfell; a few months ago, she was set to wed Brandon's brother, the solemn Lord Eddard Stark; in a few weeks, she is to wed King Robert Baratheon and become queen and mother of his heirs. Who could have foreseen the Lady Lyanna Stark's death? The prospect of queenship thrilled and frightened Cat. Lady of Winterfell was one matter; Queen of the Seven Kingdoms…
"Do you love him?" said Lysa eagerly.
"What?" Catelyn was taken back. She hardly knew Robert Baratheon. In Riverrun she had heard of his tremendous feats and ability to transform foes into friends – a venerable skill. "I suppose I will love him when we are married," said Catelyn uncertainly. "It will be my duty to love my lord husband."
"Do you think Father will betroth me to a man as noble, valiant and handsome as yours?" Lysa sighed dreamily.
"Perhaps. If Father desires an alliance with House Tyrell, I suppose you will be wed to a handsome Tyrell lord. I think Father is still keen on the alliance with the Starks…at least you seen Lord Stark before." She smiled at the prospect of her little sister as Lady of Winterfell. Lord Stark would be a fool if he refuses to wed a sweet girl such as Lysa. "He is a fine-looking man."
Lysa wrinkled her nose. "Eddard Stark is so…so serious! He hardly laughed like Brandon Stark did." Catelyn had forgotten Lysa was with her when they were presented to the Starks at Harrenhal. She wished Rhaegar Targaryen had never abducted Lyanna Stark elsewise she would be happily married to Brandon and a mother in Winterfell. Will you? Will you truly be happy as Brandon's wife? Have you neglected the thought of his way with women?
"Cat, Lysa." Their father rapped on the door. "The king is ready for you."
Taking a deep breath, Catelyn left her rooms with Lysa gripping her arm with excitement. Some would think it is Lysa as the king's betrothed, not me, Catelyn thought. Father nodded at her with approval. "Very lovely Cat. The king will no doubt be charmed by the end of the feast. Lysa, I expect you to be the beautiful, well-behaved lady I know you are. No giggling or swooning. Do you understand, Lysa? I wish to show the court both my daughters are women grown. There will be powerful lords at the celebrations today and I wish for both of you to impress upon them greatly. Cat, you are to be their queen. Prove to them a daughter of the Riverlands is fit to be our king's consort. Lysa, I am to broker a marriage for you. Show the lords you are worthy enough to wed their sons."
"Yes Father," both Tully girls said in unison. Lord Hoster Tully smiled. "Good. You both look beautiful. Your uncle Brynden-" he scowled "-and Edmure are both waiting for you with the rest of the court."
"Uncle Brynden will be a knight of the Kingsguard," said Lysa, her blue eyes shining with joy. "He will be one of the finest knights in all the realm! He will be able to protect Cat if the evil Targaryens come back!"
Catelyn nodded. "His first duty is to protect our king," she corrected. Uncle Brynden was a brilliant warrior; his appointment to the Kingsguard was such a kind suggestion of the king's.
"I cannot imagine Uncle Brynden in white," remarked Lysa. "He always wears black. Father, are you pleased Uncle Brynden will be of the Kingsguard?"
Catelyn watched as their father pursed his lips. "A Tully is always happy for the victories of another Tully," he said finally. "I am quite delighted Brynden is honoured with the prestigious offer of a place in the Kingsguard. However, once he swears his vows he will no longer marry or sire children. There will never be another branch of our family from him. A pity. If he had not been so stubborn, he would've already had Bethany Redwyne as wife. By now he probably would've had a few sons and daughters." He sniffed. "You would've had a couple of Tully cousins and Riverrun would be filled with more laughter."
"It will soon enough," said Catelyn confidently. "Edmure will have no trouble siring a number of sons and daughters who will require your attention once they can toddle and speak." Father chuckled. "Aye," he agreed. "All the girls beautiful like you and Lysa and all the boys robust and full of virility. Ah, we are here." He stopped in front of a pair of double doors constructed from the finest oak banded with bronze. The doors swung open.
"Hoster Tully, Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident and his daughters, the Lady Catelyn and the Lady Lysa of House Tully!"
Smiling, Catelyn followed her father into the Great Hall. Sitting on the throne moulded from spikes, jagged edges and twisted metal on top of a high platform, was her betrothed, King Robert Baratheon the First of His Name. Lysa had not lied; Robert was indeed a handsome man.
Very handsome.
"Lord Tully!" said the king in a booming voice fit for a warrior. He stood up and strode towards them, a broad grin on his face. He was tall in stature, broad shouldered and muscled; the perfect knight in a maiden's fantasy. He vigorously shook Catelyn's father's hand before turning to her and Lysa. "These must be your beautiful daughters!" he declared, looking at them with interest. "Lady Catelyn, you grow more lovely every day," he complimented, kissing Cat's hand. Catelyn felt no taller than the dwarf Tyrion Lannister as she stood in front of the looming king. "You must be Lady Catelyn's sister," said the king, smiling warmly at Lysa. "I say! You are as pretty as rose!" He glanced over his shoulder and shouted, "Lord Tyrell! Do you not think Lady Lysa is a true rose?"
A fat lord in green stepped forward and blustered, "Oh yes, Your Grace. The Lady Lysa is as lovely as the roses in Highgarden." He bowed clumsily.
Lysa blushed as red as Lord Tywin Lannister's crimson cloak.
"Where is your uncle Blackfish?" said the king, looking around. "I look forward to sleeping safely with the Blackfish guarding my door! I must say, it will be odd to see him garbed in white rather than black." He snorted with laughter. "What say you my lady Catelyn? Can you imagine your uncle Blackfish wearing a white cloak and carrying a white shield?"
White does not suit Uncle Brynden, thought Catelyn. He is a man in black and will die a knight in black. She shook her head. "Uncle Brynden will look queer in white, Your Grace," she said truthfully. "It will be an unusual sight; the blackfish of House Tully attired in white? I wonder if we will begin calling him whitefish instead!" She smiled as her betrothed and the other lords laughed.
"Perhaps the Blackfish can keep his black armour?" suggested a rather foolish lord. The king slowly turned and glared at him.
"Your Grace," said Catelyn quickly. "Pray tell me, when will we wed?"
"Once Ned returns," answered the king, kissing her hand again. "We will not wed until my childhood friend is back. Please excuse me my lady." He nodded at her and went to speak to a waiting lord. Ladies swarmed around Catelyn like a flock of eager birds.
"Our congratulations on your betrothal to His Grace." The tall and dignified Lady Alerie Hightower was the first to bless her. She gracefully swept her long braid of silver hair adorned with glittering emeralds to one side as she smiled at Catelyn. "Forgive my husband for his earlier words, my lady," she said, sliding her green eyes to the Tyrell lord who had blustered his words. "He was meant to say the Lady Lysa was more beautiful than any rose in Highgarden."
"Lady Alerie," Catelyn acknowledged. "All is forgiven, though your husband had not meant any offence. My sister Lysa is still delighted to be compared to the exquisiteness of a rose."
"Lady Catelyn." The wizened and old Lady Tanda Stokeworth pushed her way to Catelyn's side. "My lady, there will be room in your household for my two dear daughters Falyse and Lollys? Oh say you will take them as your ladies!" Someone sniggered rudely.
Catelyn chose to ignore it. "I will consider it, Lady Stokeworth," she answered solemnly. "I cannot promise them places in my service as of yet, but I will inform you soon enough when the time comes."
"My lady, a word if you please?" Catelyn hid a look of surprise as Lord Arryn appeared at her side. She smiled at the other ladies and took Lord Arryn's arm as he led her around the Great Hall. "You look regal, my lady," he said kindly. "You will be a wonderful queen."
"Thank you my lord," said Catelyn cautiously. "You look well."
Lord Jon Arryn barked with laughter. "As well as an old man can look, my lady. Now, you must know His Grace had always been hot-blooded with a lust for wine and women. That will not do for a good king, eh? You seem to be a calm woman with a caring nature. Tame his drinking. If peace is to be maintained, we need His Grace to have a clear and sound mind."
"I understand, my lord." Will the king even listen to me? What if he thinks me naught more than a brood mare?
"Good. There is another matter regarding…your uncle."
"Oh?" She gave the Lord of the Eyrie a confused look. "My lord, I thought the king wishes to give him a place in the Kingsguard?"
"He does my lady, but the Blackfish does not desire to be a white cloak." His brow furrowed. "The Blackfish entertains the idea of an unmarried life, but he seems to enjoy the notion of arguing with his brother more."
"My uncle Brynden does not enjoy arguing with my father, my lord…"
"He does not seem amused at the prospect of being called whitefish."
Catelyn laughed. "It will not suit him my lord."
"As the future queen, I propose the matter to you: ask the king for your uncle to be your sworn shield. He will be able to protect you if harm comes your way and he can still wear his black."
"My lord…it is up to my uncle if he wishes to be part of the Kingsguard or not. I will not use my place as the king's betrothed to request anything yet. What will the lords and ladies say of a Tully in the Kingsguard and a Tully for queen? The Tullys are rising at court, they will say. Soon the king's court will be flooded with the trouts and their followers."
"You are very astute, my lady." Lord Arryn dipped his head. "Lord Tully must be proud to have a daughter such as you."
Catelyn woke to the sound of hysterical sobbing. Stifling a yawn, she slipped on a pair of doeskin slippers and wrapped a woolly blue cloak around herself before creeping into Lysa's quarters. As the king's betrothed, Cat had been given spacious chambers in Maegor's Holdfast as were her father and Lysa. Cat found her sister crying on her bed. Like she did when their mother died, Cat gave her weeping sister a long hug. "What is the matter Lysa?"
"I am to wed," Lysa choked out, her blue eyes streaming with tears. "F-father told me after the feast yesterday."
"What's with the tears then? You always wanted to be a mother."
Lysa wailed. "I am to wed Lord Arryn!"
Cat's mouth dropped open. "Lord Jon Arryn?"
"Father is cruel! He plans to wed me to an old man! You saw him the other day Cat! You even talked to him! I am doomed for a loveless marriage! Jon Arryn will never love me! He only wants me as wife for sons!" A fresh river of tears flowed down Lysa's fair cheeks.
"He will love you," soothed Cat, squeezing her hand assuredly. "You are sister to the future queen. Only a fool will mistreat the future queen's sister. Besides, you are beautiful. You heard Lord Tyrell; you are as pretty as a blooming rose of Highgarden. Lord Arryn will be struck by your beauty and will love you. Do you remember House Arryn's words?"
A sniffle. "As H-high as H-honour."
"Lord Arryn is too honourable to sire bastards at least, dear sister. At least he will remain faithful to you." Unlike the king. During the feast yesterday, Catelyn had heard rumours of King Robert's notorious hunger for women. Lord Horton Redfort, a short, old man with a well-kept beard and mild eyes, was not troubled in telling her about the king's bastard of four years residing in the Vale. A couple of knights and lords claimed the king had littered a number of bastards before, during and after every battle in his rebellion.
Lysa's eyes widened. "Oh! Cat! You are to be the queen! Help me Cat! You can order Father to break my betrothal to Lord Arryn!" She looked hopeful.
Catelyn shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry Lysa. Father will be furious. He had arranged for you to wed a man he thinks fit for a daughter of the Riverlands. I cannot command him to break it because you wish me to. Family, Duty, Honour. Never forget our House words Lysa. What we do, who we wed, what we say…all our actions will either prosper or disgrace House Tully. Do you want Father to die a heartbroken old man or a proud father of three? For the sake of our family, we must do our duty, which in our case means good marriages. The Arryns are one of the oldest Houses in the Seven Kingdoms and you will be the Lady of the Eyrie, your descendants the powerful Lords of the Eyrie, Defenders of the Vale and Wardens of the East." She smiled mysteriously. "Can you keep a secret? Even though it wouldn't be a secret much longer?"
"What is it?"
"The king will ask Lord Arryn to be his Hand," Cat whispered. "I heard Father speak of it with the king during the feast. If you are his wife, you will be obliged to stay at court. You will be near me!"
Lysa hiccupped and giggled. "I suppose wedding Lord Arryn would not be too bad," she said uncertainly. "He is quite old. Perhaps he will die before we wed in a few weeks' time?" Lord Arryn must be desperate for an heir; what else could explain the quick betrothal?
"Edmure is so lucky he can stay at home," said Lysa longingly, "his impending bride will journey to him." From her excellent view at the high table during the feast, Catelyn had observed their father speak quietly with Lady Alerie's father, Lord Leyton Hightower of Oldtown for a good hour at least. She suspected they were haggling over an alliance of sorts; the war was more than over. Tullys and Hightowers had fought as enemies, now was the time for peace.
"It is almost dawn," said Catelyn, glimpsing a slimmer of sunlight slithering from under the curtains. "Have you cried all night?"
Lysa shook her head to her relief. "I had a bad dream. I dreamt Lord Arryn had beaten me for not bearing him a son."
"Impossible! He is too honourable to beat you. You will have a brood of bonny sons and daughters. Father used to say those of the Riverlands are as fertile as the lands. Look at Lord Frey; he sired five children with his sixth wife and at least a dozen by his previous wives."
"What will happen if I do not give Lord Arryn any children?"
Catelyn thought for a moment. "He will be succeeded by a nephew or cousin I expect. Do not fear, dear Lysa. I know you will have a son."
The two Tully sisters smiled at each other for a minute. "I can see Petyr again," said Lysa suddenly. Cat felt a sense of dread rolling in her stomach. "Father sent him back to the Fingers," Lysa continued, her eyes lit with excitement. "As Lady of the Eyrie, I can help him! Oh, remember when we used to feed him mud pies, Cat? He was so helpful to me when we were children! I never grasped sums as a child and he would oft help me." She beamed. "Once I wed Lord Arryn, I will be able to help him back!"
"Is that wise?" said Catelyn tentatively. Lysa, why must you bring even the tiniest mention of Petyr back in our lives…when Father sent him away, I hoped never to hear of him again…
Lysa gaped at her. "Cat! Father was wrong when he sent him away. Petyr is our friend and it is our duty to help him like he helped us in the past." She giggled again. "Well, he helped me more than you in our lessons. You were always clever at everything." She sighed with admiration. "Petyr still cares for you," she said casually, "are you aware of it?"
You fool Petyr…"No," said Catelyn stiffly.
"He did not write to you?" He did once…after Brandon Stark's death. Catelyn shook her head, instantly consumed by guilt. "I still have a stack of unread letters back in Riverrun," she lied. "Perhaps Petyr's letter is there. Get some sleep Lysa. I will see you in the morning for breakfast." She gave her sister another hug and crept back to her chambers. Petyr, she thought, the image of a short, slender boy with remarkable grey-green eyes and dark hair appeared in her mind. I should have known you wouldn't disappear from my life so easily. I hope I will never see you again. As she climbed back onto her bed, she had a nasty feeling the shrewd Petyr Baelish of the Fingers would worm his way back…
Morning greeted Catelyn with unusual silence. Catelyn did not like it. It was too…austere. Mornings in Riverrun always began with the songs twittered by the birds that nested in the godswood. Catelyn sighed glumly. There will be many more songless mornings to come.
After she dressed – settling for a lovely gown made from blue silk cuffed with Myrish lace – she broke her fast with her father, Edmure and Lysa on small, round oatcakes dripping generously with splatters of golden honey, a fresh loaf of bread and two boiled eggs (each), all washed down with cups of Arbor gold, the finest wine of Westeros. If it was any ordinary day in Riverrun, Catelyn would have headed to the sept and prayed. However, Father informed her and Lysa that they are all expected in the Great Hall again; the king's brother Lord Stannis, had sent a messenger with urgent news.
"My lady Catelyn!" the king said jovially as the Tullys entered the Great Hall. "I see you are even more beautiful than you were yesterday! Lord Tully! Lady Lysa! Good to see you both!" He bade for Catelyn to sit on the golden-cushioned chair beside him. The lords and ladies present stepped away. Catelyn felt their gazes upon her as she walked to the king as gracefully as she could. Robert kissed her hand as she sat down. "You are well my lord?" Catelyn inquired.
"Never better!" he boasted, grinning from ear to ear. He is even more happier than yesterday. Before Catelyn could dwell more on it, he nodded at a windswept man hovering near the doors. He must be Lord Stannis's messenger.
"Your Grace." The messenger bowed. "I bring forth news-"
"Yes, yes." The king waved his hand dismissively. "You bring forth a message from my brother Stannis. What is it?"
Slightly taken back, the messenger paused and said almost breathlessly, "Lord Stannis has captured Dragonstone! The Targaryen fleet was destroyed at night and Lord Stannis has installed a garrison of his strongest men there in the name of Your Grace. Lord Stannis is sailing back here as we speak and with him are two prisoners – a boy and an infant girl."
Thanks for the reviews! I'm so pleased to hear your thoughts on the first chapter! :) So...should the Blackfish be part of the Kingsguard? It was a friend's suggestion; I found it a little strange, but I've decided to ask you readers for your opinions on it! The characters may be a little OOC and I promise I'll write them more in character as this story progresses. Oh, and yes, Jon Snow will appear :)
