Willas sighed, clearing up his desk, the draft of a letter to Prince Doran asking after wheelchair designs being pushed to the side. He hoped he would get it sent before he left Riverrun again, hoped that Prince Doran would reply. It was going to be his gift, if all went well to his new wife. A way for her son to regain some independence and mobility
Willas was glad his sister had claimed it was his scholarly vice that precluded him from meeting his betrothed as opposed to the truth, his leg was paining him enough he would need a wheelchair, something he did not wish to be seen in when he first met his betrothed, knowing how most people viewed his disability. Although he did have some small amount of hope, given what he had heard about her second son... Willas thought on what his grandmother had said about his future wife and her other children. He would not mind, he didn't think if she brought her other children to live in Highgarden. He could well afford to clothe and feed them, the youngest could be squired off somewhere later on and he would give any and all children he had as many siblings as possible, even if he did not father them. It was not as if she was bringing bastards into his home, not that he had anything against bastards, Ellaria Sand had certainly persuaded him as to their merits. Gods he wished his family would get over their dislike of the Martell Prince, especially since he, the injured party had received apologies in the form of horses and kisses enough for a broken spine, let alone one bad leg. Although Willas supposed he would have to say goodbye to any thoughts of Oberyn and Ellaria visiting him at Highgarden now, he could probably visit them in Dorne under the guise of diplomacy, and it was diplomacy of a kind he thought with a giggle. People rarely wanted to visit Sunspear if they did not have too, especially people who fought on the other side of that thrice damned war. Willas reached for his cane and stood up, just as his sister poked her head around the door.
"It is time for supper now Willas darling, time to meet your betrothed" she cajoled with a smile on her face that brought him back to childhood, when he was playing the knightly older brother come to save her from the savage Dornish.
Catelyn sat on the dais, with her son on her left and an empty chair on her right. Robb and Margaery were whispering together, the whisper's being interspersed with the occasional giggle. She was glad they seemed to be getting along, better than her and Ned had when they first met. There was a little worry when they first started talking; her son was shy, unused to talking to Ladies who were not his sister, but Margaery had soon opened him up.
The side door to the great hall opened and she saw a man of middling year, wearing the rose of Highgarden enter, while holding a cane.
"Willas" Lady Margaery sprang up.
So, Catelyn thought, this is my future husband. Handsome enough, more handsome than my Ned certainly, tall with a good head of hair. He hasn't gone to fat either, which speaks well of him considering his mobility issues.
Lord Willas walked towards them, leaning on his cane slightly as he did so, pausing before he reached her in front of his grandmother. Margaery had yet to sit down and now used that to loudly beckon Lord Willas toward them.
"Willas, come let me present my betrothed Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell and your betrothed, Lady Catelyn…" Margaery drifted of then, not knowing whether to introduce her as Lady Tully or Lady Stark. Catelyn smiled at her future gooddaughter then, and finished her sentence.
"Lady Catelyn Tully, my Lord. A pleasure to meet you at last" Catelyn clarified. She felt her son tense beside her for a second before her attention fell back onto Lord Willas.
"Lady Catelyn, I assure you the pleasure is all mine. May I sit beside you for this feast" he asked cautiously, with deference to her wishes.
"Of course my Lord, we have much to discuss after all" Catelyn reassured him. "Our wedding for one thing".
Lady Catelyn met her father in his solar, accompanied by her sister and brother.
"My Lord, you wished to see us" Catelyn inquired.
"Yes, sit, sit. We have much planning to do and little time to do it in. Your Northerners certainly took your time arriving" he finished, the last half of his sentence muttered under his breath. Catelyn straightened up her spine at the soft rebuke.
"We took our time, as you say because we had to go back around the heads of the forks, because Lord Frey would not let us past without a marriage between Robb and one of his daughters" she admonished. Her father looking slightly abashed at that.
"Nevertheless, it means that your wedding will have to happen soon, by the next day of the father soon. Which is only four days away, my dear" Hoster looked sorrowful at that continuing "It seems that you are destined to marry under the threat of war. I am sorry"
"No matter, I am hardly a blushing maiden dreaming of a knightly prince, or a princely knight. We shall save the extravagant wedding for my son and the Lady Margaery, for Winterfell, once this war is over." She fell silent, thinking on what would be needed. A cloak to wear, with either the trout of House Tully or the Stark Wolf. A feast will also need to be organized and I will have to see if the Tyrells have a cloak for Willas to place around my shoulders. Her train of thought was interrupted by her sister.
"I have taken the liberty of making your maiden's cloak" her sister said, with a smirk on her face at the word maiden. "It is a quartered trout and wolf, as you represent two great houses".
"I – thankyou. That is a great relief." She turned to her brother "Edmure, could I impose on you to organise a feast for after the wedding? I will speak to the Tyrells and Septon Balter about the ceremony. Father, I would leave you with the most arduous task, and ask that you begin planning a war strategy. I would suggest we arrange a council with the Reachmen, your Bannermen, and the houses sworn to Robb" she concluded.
"Of course, my dear" her father agreed, with a proud smile.
Olenna Tyrell sat in the godswood of Riverrun, with her granddaughter, and her granddaughter's ladies, working on the Tyrell cloak that Willas would drape around the Lady Fish in just over a days' time. It was cooler than she would like, and the queer northern faces made her guards uneasy and tense, but this was the closet she good get to a private garden, surrounded as they were by troops, men, who would leave behind them filth no doubt. Although she was glad to say that Margaery and Alla, child though she may be, were not as foolishly superstitious as those fools her son had assigned her. Really, she thought to herself, afraid of trees; with all the horrors men have dreamt up, trees are what frighten you. Although, she did have to concede, it was a brilliant propaganda tool for the North.
"You are lucky dear girl, your future husband seems to have enough wits about him; or at least he has a better head for strategy than his dead father did" Olenna croaked, watching a smile play its way across Margaery's face.
"So, the council went well then, I take it" her granddaughter asked, stilling her fingers.
"Aye, he seems to have a good understanding off Lord Tywin's battle strategies and a clear goal in mind. He will not be the best battle commander Westeros has ever seen, but he takes advice well and listens to his generals and his mother" Which is more than I can say for my oaf of a son. Perhaps she beat him more than I did Mace, Olenna thought with a slight bitterness.
Catelyn's decision to walk up the aisle of the sept alone had been met with confusion from her father and son, but support had come in the form of her sister who had vehemently defended her decision with all power of the Lady of the Vale. Her hands had shaken as she laid her cloak of red, blue, grey and white around her shoulders before stepping out of her childhood rooms to walk to a new husband and future for the second time. Her stomach filled with guilt instead of nerves.
As Willas stood at the alter to the father in front of Septon Balter with his brother Loras he watched his betrothed walk towards him. She was comely, her hair lovely and thick; with pretty eyes the shade of azure. Her mouth had crinkles which was, to him a good sign as it showed she smiled; or had in the past which gave him hope that she would again although perhaps not for some time. He was not naïve; he understood that until her children were safe she would not; could not be content. I only hope she lends that same protection to any children we create together, he thought to himself.
Edmure was thoroughly exhausted; he had been seeing Lords and Ladies settled for days, Lords coming to pledge their support and bringing their sisters and daughters hoping that they might catch his eye; or his father's eye. His sister's wedding feast was only halfway done and he was already searching for an out. Having danced with what felt like half the women of the Realm he settled himself beside his uncle; with a cup of Arbor gold. Thankfully, though the Tyrells brought enough wine, gold and red to fill the all the rivers of the Riverland's. Brynden snorted beside him.
"You look as exhausted as I did after the War for the Stepstones, are these dances to active for you my boy" Brynden japed grinning at him. Edmure sighed, shaking his head.
"Sometimes I envy you, no one is trying to marry you off to anyone" he grumbled to Brynden with a wry smile.
"Ah, but I am old and without any children save those of my brother" his Uncle intoned. Edmure smiled briefly, grateful at least that he did not show any inclination to arrange a marriage for him. He sat quietly with his uncle, glancing around the room when he caught his father's eye. Hoster started, with all the subtlety of a bull let loose at the market, making gestures for him to get up rejoin the celebrations.
"My peace seems to have ended. I'll be off then, must look my best for the fisherman" he finished with a wink.
Edmure loitered around the high table making intermittent small talk with his good brother for as long as he could, before re-joining the dancing. As the musicians started a new song he found himself face to face with a lady in teal. She curtseyed and offered her hand; his courtesies kicking in at the last moment.
"Forgive me, my Lady; I was stunned by your beauty" he spoke; then smiled in a manner he hoped was charming and not leering.
"There is nothing to forgive my Lord" she replied eyes glittering with mirth.
"Still, I must insist on a dance, to apologize Lady…" he trailed off, hoping she would name herself.
"Lady Rhialta, Rhialta Vance of Wayfarer's Rest. I need not ask who you are... Red hair and a blue robe, you must be a Tully. Edmure Tully if my guess is correct, heir to all that surround us" she finished with an almost dangerous smile.
Catelyn joined her father in a dance.
"How are you enjoying the feast, my dear?" Hoster asked as he twirled her around, the Tyrell cloak of green velvet and golden thread shimmering in the candle light.
"Well, although not as well as Edmure" she smiled, nodding towards her brother who seemed deep in conversation with a pale girl with butter yellow hair. Her father turned and nodded almost approvingly at his heir.
"A Vance of Wayfarers rest. He could do quite a bit worse for the next Lady of Riverrun" Hoster decreed quietly to his daughter.
"Lady of Riverrun?" Catelyn questioned dryly. "The only met today; don't you think that is a little hasty?"
"And it is not hasty for you to marry someone you have known for less than a full score of seven days" Hoster re-joined quickly.
"Aye, but that is a different situation" Catelyn contended.
"It is. Edmure does not need to marry with the same haste you did to secure an army, but that does not mean he has any large amount of time. I am an old man, and not with great health. Family, Duty, Honour after all. The Tully line must continue" he finished.
"Family, Duty, Honour" Catelyn repeated with a trace of doubt in her voice, her eyes gliding over to where her sister the Lady of the Vale of Arryn sat with her son.
The harpist had just taken up another tune when she was interrupted by the call of Bedding, emanating from the Reach lord's but soon being taken up by the rest of the guests. Catelyn closed her eyes and resigned herself to temporary embarrassment, comforted in small part by the fact that the sheer amount of wine provided by the Tyrell's ensured that most people would have only a hazy memory of the proceedings.
She felt rather than saw the first man who took it upon himself to begin the bedding ceremony, grabbing the laces of her dress, when there was a growl. Catelyn looked down with a smile to see grey wind glaring at the man, a Knight if she recalled correctly, Ser Albert Roux. She rested her hand on the snout of her son's wolf for a moment before leading him out of the room and towards her chambers.
It was a much rowdier procession that was escorting Willas then the one escorting her. Where she had a wolf for company he was in the process of being stripped by what looked like a pack of hounds destroying their prey. She could see the striking green hair of Wylla Manderly, among the golds and browns that made up the horde of ladies undressing her new husband. Walking, as she was, she paused to watch Willas be deposited in her room. Catelyn took a moment then to take a deep breath and offer a prayer of apology to Eddard, but also one of thanks to the seven for this opportunity while heartbreaking could save her daughters.
She smiled slightly looking at her husband; despite the rumours of his disability it would not be a hardship to consummate the marriage, looking at him again told her that he shared her opinion about the difficulty of the consummation.
Catelyn laid on her back, her breath slowly returning to her. The echoes of the party that had listened at the door to hear the consummation had died away at some point, though she had been too distracted to make note of it. Her hair was sticking to her head and her throat was dry as she rose to pour herself a cup of lemon water.
"My Lord would you like a drink?" she asked, turning her head to view Willas, who had not moved. His eyes opened blearily, a smile fluttering across his lips.
"I would like something" he flirted, while she quenched her thirst. The urge to roll her eyes was too strong to resist. As she turned to place her cup back on the desk she heard muffled laughter. Catelyn retrieved a night robe from her wardrobe and wrapped herself up in it before going to sit on the bed. Looking upon her husband, she considered his features. He had lovely hair, soft and wavy, the colour of fresh cut oak wood, and several shades lighter than Lady Margaery's tresses. He had muddy green eyes, something she hoped would be passed on to any children they shared. His face had the typical Tyrell beauty, high cheekbones and lovely jaw line. She was shaken out of her musings when he laughed, presumably because she had caught him staring.
"In all seriousness, though, husband. Robb and majority of the northern host are marching tomorrow morn, as well as a goodly portion of the Reach's forces. I have heard that you plan on joining the campaign?" she enquired. Willas' smile dropped slightly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
"Wife" and Catelyn saw goose bumps rising on his arms as he called her that, something that made her stomach clench, this man, and this husband of mine could love me. "I cannot fight on foot, and on horseback I am only slightly less useless" he put his finger on her mouth, Catelyn guessed because he could tell she was about to interrupt "I am useless as a fighter, but I have some small strategic ability and my presence will boost the morale. It is hard to fight for a lord who hides away in his castle." She was comforted for the first time that this man was to be her second husband, this man who would, better than most understand her second son, her first son born of love. He could show Brandon that there would be hope that his life was not over because he could not walk.
Margaery stood on the side of the green fork waiting for her betrothed. She had asked him to meet her privately, hoping that she could make the send-off memorable, to keep herself fresh in the Lord's mind as he went off to war. She did not want to repeat history and be joined in the beginning of her marriage by a bastard, though she would be graceful and charming should that happen. She thought back to how angry she had been when her grandmother had told her of the match.
"I would have been a queen and you want to make me lady of a desolate wasteland!"
"Hush, child. You would never have been queen" Lady Olenna had snapped. "I said so from the beginning it was a fool's errand to try to make Renly king. He was greedy, already a Lord Paramount but that was not good enough. My dear, the North is cold yes, and harsh but it is large, with land for second and third sons. It has potential that is going unused, and being the Lady Wife of a Lord Paramount with the ancestry of the Starks is no small thing. You know there are still those who say we are up-jumped castellans? This brings us legitimacy. Also what are your other options? The bastard of the Kingslayer? A malformed dwarf? The floppy fish? A ten year old who from all reports is still breastfed? You could do much worse. Get your head out of your arse girlie!"
She almost laughed thinking back on it. Her grandmother was always skilled in getting her way, and when her way was marriage to the Starks and Tully's well then that was what the Tyrells would do.
"My Lady" Margaery smiled as she turned her head to see her betrothed riding toward her on his northern stallion, bred by the Dustins of Barrowton if she remembered their talk from the wedding correctly.
"My Lord" she replied with a shallow curtsey. Robb was carrying what looked like a bunch of pink river flowers. He thrust the flowers toward her with an awkward smile.
"I thought you might like these. I know your sigil is roses but I thought mayhaps you'd like a change. I can get roses if you would prefer though" he betrothed petered out, blushing, and lifting his hand to scratch the back of his neck. Margaery felt relief shuddering through her then he likes me, I will have no difficulty capturing his heart she thought to herself with relief. She smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile, taking the flowers and bringing them to her nose. There was a faint scent, like someone had watered down the fragrance of white roses.
"They look beautiful. I shall treasure them during our separation" she cooed. For a second she wondered if she had laid it on too thick. If he would take her attempts to attract him as attempted ensnarement, but he just blushed and his eyes dropped to his feet for a moment before rising again to meet hers. He did have beautiful eyes, she thought. I will not be challenging to act the besotted love fool.
"I have to leave now, I just wanted to give you those and say goodbye." His blush returned and he seemed to be toying with an idea in his head before he stepped forward and kissed her. It was a quick kiss, enthusiastic but unskilled. Quite like the kisses she had shared not two years previously with her brother's footman, Richard Travert, and anyway I have time to train him, given the right instruction he could be quite the skilled lover, after all if you do not have any enthusiasm even the best techniques will fail. That was why, she thought, the courtesans of Braavos were more famed than the most skilled of the bedslaves of Yunkai.
Edmure had been arranging his saddlebags for his upcoming departure of Riverrun when one of his father's serving boys, Miles – if her remembered correctly, informed him that Lord Hoster had requested his presence in his solar post-haste.
He arrived to find a closed door, knocking on it gently. There was a muffled noise before he heard his father speak.
"Come in, don't dally" Lord Hoster snapped. Edmure tensed when he heard his father's voice and had to will himself to relax. Sometimes he wondered why Lady Olenna had a reputation for a vinegary tongue and his father did not.
"Sit down, son. We need to talk about your sister's wedding" he grunted. His father's ill health more obvious than ever.
"Cat's wedding? I thought it went quite well" Edmure offered, not quite understanding his father's point. If there was a hidden meaning in the question he had missed it.
"Yes, yes. Your sister did well; a marriage linking us to the Tyrells is no small thing. My grandsons will rule three of the nine regions of Westeros. I was talking about your behaviour" he grumbled.
"My behaviour" He questioned his father with a frown on his face. Edmure was confused; he had performed with all the class required of Tully of Riverrun, had only drunk watered wine.
"Yes, your behaviour. I noticed you spent a great deal of time with the Lady Rhialta." Lord Hoster stated.
"I did, Lady Rhialta was quite the diverting conversationalist" he countered.
"Relax, you are not in trouble – for once in your life" the end of Lord Hoster's sentence, muttered under his breath.
"It is well past time for you to take a lady to wife, and to produce some heirs for our house. Your sisters second wedding is proof enough of that. The Lady Rhialta, is daughter to one of our most powerful Bannermen, and seems to be not unpleasant to look upon." He finished
"You are suggesting I marry the Lady, we only met yesterday" Edmure sputtered.
"Yes, your sister knew both her husbands for less than a week before marriage and did well enough" Lord Hoster responded.
"Yes it worked well for Catelyn" he muttered to his father.
"What was that" Lord Hoster sniped.
"Nothing, my Lord. You are correct that Lady Rhialta would make a fine Lady Tully, and I suppose it can't hurt to bind Wayfarers rest closer to Riverrun, but what on earth makes you think she would accept marriage to a man she barely knows" He pointed out, in a slightly bitter tone for he would be much pleased to have a Lady like Rhialta as a wife.
"She would accept a marriage to a man she barely knows for the same reason your sisters both" the emphasis on the last word telling Edmure that his father hadn't missed his quip about Lysa's marriage "accepted marriages to men they didn't know, because it is the best thing for their family, and because it would make her wife of Lord Paramount" Hoster explained before continuing "and besides, she is likely the best we will get for you, your reputation means it is unlikely that a daughter of a Lord Paramount would accept you as a husband, if their even were any available" his father finished with a bitter tone to his voice.
"I will approach –" Edmure began before being interrupted.
"You will go to war. I will approach Lord Vance and make the appropriate arrangements" Lord Hoster interjected before shooing him out of his solar.
Petyr stormed through the private entrance at the back of The Maiden's Allure, leaving a trail of shocked whores behind him. He was vibrating with fury after he had heard about the nuptials between Cat and the Cripple of Highgarden. He slammed the door to his private room behind him, hearing it rattle on its hinges. Sitting down his breath was laborious and he felt full of manic energy, spotting the old river stone Catelyn had given him on his twelfth name day and throwing it at the stone wall, the shattering sound soothing his nerves. There was a hesitant knock on the door, and he debated with himself whether to answer when whoever was on the other side knocked again.
He flung the door open with a growl.
"What do you want Maresa? He scowled at the madam of his first brothel. She straightened her neck before answering.
"Only to see why my boss was storming around in such a mood, it's not good for business, scares the clientele away" she sneered in return, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before she resumed speaking "Petyr, is there any reason my girls should be worried? What is the cause of this mood?" she questioned with a frown.
"My mood, as you say has nothing to do with the establishment. I require the use of a girl for the night, red hair, young, small teats." he demanded in an almost petulant tone that he reserved for when he was away from the gentry. Maresa nodded, before turning, presumably to acquiesce to his demand. "Oh and Maresa, never presume to question me again. You are not irreplaceable, no one is" he purred, his temper coming back under his control.
He could hear the sounds of swords clashing above him, behind him, in front of him. Robb could see no further than the end of his own blade as it slid through the arm of a man wearing crimson. A body fell of a horse in front of him, getting trampled by his own horse; he had to yank on the reigns to stop himself hitting the now riderless horse. There a crack to his right and a warm spurt of liquid hit the side of his helmet. He didn't look down to see what it was. They pressed on, the cavalry in front of him disappearing like snow being washed away.
They had been fighting for hours or so it seemed when there was a break in the cavalry charge from in front of him, Robb raised his head slightly and saw in the distance a trout flying in the wind, bearing down on the rear of the Lannister host. Reinforcements had arrived. From then it was swift, barely an hour from the first sighting till Jaime Lannister was on his knees in front of him. There was dissent in his ranks about what to do with the Kingslayer, those with family who had fallen at the battle wanting him executed swiftly, without mercy, cooler heads prevailed though and it was a long march back to Riverrun with the Kingslayer as prisoner.
The men had left for war on the previous morning. There had been little to do outside of ensuring that Riverrun had everything necessary to survive under a siege. Now though, that Riverrun's stores were full, Catelyn thought, time to turn to other matters. She asked her handmaiden to call for her sister, goodsister, goodmother and father to join her in the godswood. It was time to turn to the traitors in their midst.
Lord Hoster hobbled out to the godswood, somewhere that until recently had gone unvisited for nigh on a decade and now seemed to never be empty, with Northerners at prayer or Tyrell ladies sewing. The group that was waiting for him, his daughters both along with the future lady of Winterfell and the dowager Lady of Highgarden.
"Well, m'dear" he turned to his eldest "Why have you called us to meet", he noticed both of the Reachwomen faces displayed the same inquisitiveness as his own.
"We need to discuss why it took the northern forces so long to reach us. The Late Lord Frey. He was reluctant to be involved in the last war, he is sworn to you and should have answered your call to this one and yet instead of allowing us passage he sought to bribery from us to pass, in the form of a marriage between his family and both Edmure and Robb. As well as the acceptance of a number of his other sons and daughters as pages and handmaids respectively." She concluded with a bitter frown. Olenna and Margaery shared a glance.
"A disobedient vassal is certainly something to be concerned about, especially in these times. I noticed they sent only minimal men, perhaps a thousand if that, which is nothing when you consider they are supposed to be able to field ten thousand. Add that to their historical alliance with the Lannister's… Well, I quite agree with Lady Catelyn that something needs to be done. The question is what?" and why haven't you done something sooner.
Hoster felt himself flush slightly at the unspoken reprimand, however earned it might have been.
"I might have an idea" Lysa spoke softly, her voice echoing in the ghostly silence of the woods.
"The Twins are full of sons and grandsons, daughters and granddaughters of the ever fertile Lord Frey" Lysa continued with a wry smile when she mentioned Lord Frey's fertility. "Ambitious men and women. His heir Ser Stevron Frey is much more amiable than the current Lord, although he is perhaps the exception rather than the rule when it comes to the House Frey. His younger brother Emmon is married to Lady Genna Lannister and they along with their children reside in Casterly Rock." She was interrupted by Lady Olenna who waved her hand.
"Yes, yes dearie. We know all this, what is your idea" she questioned Lysa with impudence, although Lysa's only response was to smile a little before picking up where she had left off.
"Ser Stevron's son Ser Ryman is said to be dull" Lady Olenna sighed quite loudly when Lysa's monologue on the Frey's continued.
"Ser Ryman's son however, could be quite a useful ally. He is in line to inherit the Twins and his daughter Lady Walda after him, and may I just say how grateful I am that I was not named after you" she directed the last part of the statement to him with a grin. "Ser Edwyn could be easily turned in exchange for protection and support of both his claim and his daughters. His brother Black Walder is said to want the Twins and we could use that".
Lady Olenna snorted.
"They really are an unimaginative lot aren't they, and I thought Mace was an oaf" she chuckled. Hoster smiled despite himself, Queen of Thorns indeed.
"Use that how?" Catelyn asked, returning Hoster's attention to the point at hand.
"Lord Walder feels like his family is not given the respect it deserves by Riverrun, but also usefully by Casterly Rock. Lord Tywin has Frey nephews and two grandnephews, the Lannister's are more closely related to the Frey's than we are, but you wouldn't know it from talking to them. If we have a two pronged approach, firstly offer to foster Lady Walda in Riverrun or Winterfell then offer Ser Edwyn a place in the Vale, or Riverrun; somewhere he would know he was safe from Black Walder. For the second prong we need to do something to soothe the Lord of the Crossing's wounded pride" Lysa drifted off, obviously deep in thought. A solution came from an unexpected place though when Lady Margaery offered her thoughts.
"If we invite, say, six of his daughters to become Ladies in Waiting to either myself, Lady Catelyn or Lady Lysa. We also invite some of his sons to squire for my brothers, and remind him of Casterly Rock's lack of familial generosity by offering him a westerlander castle, once we have defeated Lord Tywin. Finally suggest that if he is loyal there might be a position for him or a family member with whoever ends up sitting on the Iron Throne" she suggested.
He noticed his daughters sharing a look before Catelyn spoke.
"That is precisely what we should do. I shall send the ravens at once"