Author's Note: Hey everybody, hope everyone is still enjoying reading this. In this chapter we get to see a few more canon characters make some appearances and finally get seriously involved in the story, please review and let me know how you think the story is going, or anything you think I could be doing better. Just a quick note to clarify, in this version, Theon has not left for the Iron Islands yet, though Robb plans to send him soon, and the Greyjoys have yet to launch their attacks on the North (including Winterfell). Anyways, please let me know how you think I portrayed the canon characters, I've done my best to stay true to their character but if you think that something is out of place for them please let me know! Enjoy!
Maerisa:
She knelt quickly. The boy in the stables was none other than Robb Stark, King in the North. She had thrown a hairbrush at the most powerful man in the North. She would've laughed if she hadn't been so embarrassed.
"My lord, err, my King, forgive me! I wasn't aware it was-" she stuttered, before he stopped her with a wave of his hand, trying to hide his grin, as she blushed bright red.
"Stand up my Lady, no need to dirty that dress of yours." He told her, now unable to conceal his smile. She was forced to smile as well, the blush fading from her face as he lifter her to her feet.
"I meant no disrespect my King. My humblest of apologies."
"None taken. I take it you are Maerisa Fadyn?" He asked her matter-of-factly.
"Yes your grace." She nodded.
"Relax, call me Robb. Your grace sounds so damned formal" he told her, brushing his direwolf's fur. "Besides, your brother calls me Robb, and since he's practically my brother that would make you my sister" he said, grinning up at her. "No need for any formalities here Maerisa. I may call you Maerisa, correct?"
"Of course your- Robb." She caught herself.
"Good. How is your brother? Have you any news?"
"I've heard nothing, though he's only just left. I'm sure we'll receive word from him soon" she told him, nervously brushing back her blonde hair.
"I should hope so. I'm sorry for what happened to your father and brother," he told her sincerely, "they were good men. They will be missed. I promise you though, one day they shall be avenged."
And who will avenge the men who he kills to avenge them? She asked herself.
"Will you walk with me Maerisa?"
"Of course your gra- Robb." She replied, taking his arm as he led her from the stables, his Direwolf at his heels. They walked throughout the camp, talking about Thunder, his Direwolf who she learned was named Grey Wind, their families, and their homes.
"You miss it don't you?" He asked her.
"Every moment." She answered, and he nodded in understanding.
"It's been so long since I've been home. I miss Winterfell. Rickon must be old enough to ride by now. I haven't seen him in forever..." he trailed off, looking wistfully northwards. After a moment, he looked back to her, as if remembering something. "You told me you weren't looking forward to the feast. Why?"
"My uncle Scipio thinks it is time I married. He means to arrange a suit, hopefully finding a suitable match tonight." She confessed. "I'm afraid I won't love him. What if he's some sour northerner, or old or ugly. How can I agree to marry someone I've never met?" She asked him.
"Well, we Northerners aren't so sour and grim all the time." He laughed, and she groaned, as she gave him a mock curtesy and asked for forgiveness, before he became serious again.
"I understand how you feel." He answered, guiding her through the camp and back to her own pavilion. "When my mother arranged my marriage with one of Walder Frey's daughters, I was somewhat less than thrilled. Then I met Talisa, and well, the rest is history. But I can understand your fear." They were both silent for a bit, before Robb spoke up.
"You know, you remind me quite a bit of my sister. She never wanted to marry either, always so independent and headstrong. But keep an open mind. I know there are plenty of good men here, and they would all be lucky to have you as a wife." He told her, looking her sincerely in the eye.
"Thank you Robb."
"I promise you, I'll talk with your uncle. I'll make sure no one horrid ends up on the list. You have my word." She thanked him.
"Well, here we are." He said, pointing to her tent. "I should be going, lots to do before tonight" he explained. "I'll see you there. It's been a pleasure to meet you Maerisa. I'm sure we'll talk again later." She thanked him for his company, and he walked off, heading back to the main tent to prepare for the night's festivities. She watched him walk away. He was a good man. Talisa was lucky to have him. She could only hope her betrothed would be as kind and good natured as he was, and maybe even handsome. She was jarred from her thoughts by the sound of one of her ladies-in-waiting shouting to her.
"Maerisa! Where have you been? We need to prepare you for tonight!" She screeched. Maerisa sighed, turning and entering the tent.
Later that Night
Dusk had fallen, and the soldiers huddled in small groups around small cooking fires. She could hear them laughing and talking around their fires, the normal sounds of a military camp gone. There was no shouting or yelling, save those of the men laughing at one another, no scrape of steel on steel, no constant hammering of hammers on anvils, no men rushing around carrying armor or weapons, just laughter and the sound of men enjoying themselves.
Meanwhile, she couldn't have felt more dejected as she walked towards the feast. As she passed between the fires, men gave her polite nods or even greetings as she passed them, but she felt completely alone, even with her uncle Scipio at her side. She was completely terrified. What if she committed some sort of blunder? Or said something silly or stupid? Her heart was practically beating out of her chest as two guards pulled the tent flap aside and she was escorted in on her uncle's arm.
She scanned the room, looking for a familiar face or someone she might consider as a suitor. At the very least it'll help to have an idea of who is appealing, she thought cynically. The tent was warm, a fire burning at the far end. The smells of different foods drifted through the air. She saw a boar roasting on a spit, rabbit and duck passing by on platters, and arrays of other foods she didn't quite recognize. Many lords sat at a high table at the other end of the tent, laughing and drinking. The sound of music filled the tent, the musicians playing happy, upbeat tunes, as other lords and ladies danced in the center of the tent. Many of them wore rich silks or vests, or fine, ornamental armor. For her own part, she wore an azure silk dress, with gold thread lacing it together, and her favorite necklace, a pendant inlaid with a ruby fox. Her father had given it to her for her last nameday.
Her eyes searched the room, until finding Robb. He flashed her a friendly smile, and her heart slowed a bit from it's terrifying pace.
"Ready?" Her uncle asked. He wore his usual clothing, his simple armor, except this time he wore a tunic over it, embroidered with his black fox sigil. She gulped, and then nodded, as he walked her to the center of the dance floor, before the long table where Robb and his lords sat.
"Your grace," he said, she felt as though she was shaking she was so nervous. She was unused to the formalities of court. This would be many lords first impressions of her, and it was of the utmost importance that her first impression was a good one. She felt absolutely alone, standing before them all, all the eyes on her. She did her best to avoid making eye contact with any of them, but her eyes paused for a moment on Robb, who gave her a reassuring smile. "May I present my niece, Lady Maerisa, of house Fadyn, sister of Trysten Fadyn, Lord of Star's Reach." What now? Was she supposed to curtsy? Or bow? Or say something? Her heart was racing, it surprised her that the other lords and ladies couldn't hear it she felt it was beating so loud. She hesitated, not quite sure of what to do. It felt like an eternity, before she finally curtsied before Robb.
"Lady Fadyn, welcome" he said, a warm, friendly tone in her voice, calming her, as if too say that she did fine. "Please, Lady Fadyn, enjoy the feast, you shall be our most honored guest tonight".
The moment passed, and she felt her heart slowing as she took her seat at the table. She was seated at a place of honor, beside Robb's wife and her uncle Scipio. She watched quietly as the food and wine was brought before them, eating slowly and carefully, and doing her best to remember what Septa Eleanor had taught her about table manners, but her hands still shook.
"Lady Maerisa" Robb's wife said. She almost dropped her fork, she was so startled. She hadn't expected anyone to actually talk to her. She was simply hoping that she could get through the evening without having to say anything. She struggled to regain her composure.
"My queen" she responded.
"Talisa" she said. Maerisa had never known her name, or even seen her for that matter. She had heard she was beautiful, and she supposed the rumors were correct. Talisa was young, probably not much older than she was. She had long, brown locks, dark brown eyes, and darker skin. "I was told you came here to find a suitor?" The queen asked.
"Indeed your grace."
"And?"
"I'm nervous your grace." The queen laughed. Her smile radiated, and somehow Maerisa felt more at ease. She felt this woman understood her.
"Well that is to be expected my dear. If the prospect of an arranged marriage didn't make you nervous, I might question your wits." Maerisa laughed. "Besides," the Queen told her confidently " I am sure you will have plenty of handsome young suitors, being the beauty that you are" she told her.
"Thank you your grace. I'm sure my beauty palls to yours in comparison." Talisa chuckled. "Thank you lady Maerisa. Please though, you must relax. Enjoy yourself!" She could tell she liked the Queen already.
They spent the next few minutes talking. Talisa told her of her life in Volantis, and they found they had much in common. Both never had many noble ladies at court with them, and as such were somewhat unfamiliar with the noble customs. They both were somewhat isolated from the other noble ladies of their age, and never had many noble friends growing up. They talked about Maerisa's life in Star's Reach, and of their families. Talisa told her of her father, a Volantene warlord, and Maerisa told stories of her own lord father. They laughed at stories of their younger sisters, and soon, Maerisa became more comfortable as the evening went on.
Talisa was interrupted in the middle of a story by Robb.
"If I may steal my lady wife for a moment lady Maerisa, I would have this dance" he said.
"Of course your grace." Robb thanked her, taking Talisa by the hand into the center of the dance floor. He motioned for the musicians to begin a song, and they played a slow dance, which Maerisa recognized as the tune of "Two Hearts Beat as One". She watched Talisa and Robb with envy, as they danced, slowly circling the floor. Both seemed completely engrossed by one another, seeming to lose themselves in each other and forget the world around them. Their love was apparent to anyone who was watching. She envied them, marrying for love, while she would have to marry some lordling or knight for alliance. They seemed so completely happy together, having something she knew should could never have. She nearly wished she was a queen, able to renounce her vows and simply marry whom she chose, but she knew that would be unwise. The dance ended, and Robb and Talisa exchanged a quick kiss, much to the other lord's delight, who cheered and laughed at the two of them. The music picked up to a faster tune, and the two separated, returning to the table.
Robb guided Talisa to her seat, before turning to her.
"And now, as the guest of honor, may I have this dance my lady?" He asked her, offering her his hand.
"With your lady wife's permission of course" she responded, looking to Talisa, who smiled and gave them a nod, as Robb led her out onto the dance floor, among the other lords and ladies, who were dancing to "The Bear and The Maiden Fair". They danced the the music, stepping forward and back with the beat and circling one another.
"How are you enjoying the feast?" Robb asked. "Seen anyone to your liking? Anyone you would like me to arrange a meeting with?"
"No your gr- Robb" he smiled at her correction. "No one yet."
"You and Talisa seem to have hit it off though" he noted.
"Indeed, she is a lovely woman." She told him sincerely, and he nodded, looking back to his wife.
"I'm lucky to have her."
"I can only hope my own lord husband and I have the same relationship the two of you have." She told him honestly, and he frowned.
"I'm sure you will Maerisa, a beauty such as yourself. You do look absolutely stunning tonight."
"Thank you Robb."
"Have you met any of the other lord's sons yet?" He asked.
"Not yet, no. Anyone in particular you had in mind?"
"No one really. Perhaps Harrion Karstark, Wendel Maderly, or Benfred Tallhart. All noble families and good men I assure you." Robb told her as they danced.
"Perhaps." She told him, doing her best to spot them in the crowd as he pointed them out.
"If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask" he told her, before they split, changing dance partners. She watched him move away, dancing with a different lady, before she looked to her own partner.
"Fadyn." Came a cold voice. She looked back to her partner. She had not seen him before, but she recognized the Kraken pin on his doublet and immediately knew who he was.
"Greyjoy." She immediately took a disliking too him. There had never been any love lost between the Fadyns and Greyjoys. The Fadyn Silversides had on more than one occasion foiled Greyjoy incursions and raids, and killed Greyjoy pirates and raiders. Those same raiders were the very reason for the formation of the Silversides, who although mirroring the Ironmen's equipment and tactics, shared very few similarities beyond that, and Greyjoy pirates had long been the the bane of Fadyn maritime ventures. She recalled her father once condemning Balon Greyjoy as a "weak, powerhungry, cowardly pirate". He never had been one for niceties or euphemisms. She thought fondly. But the for all the love the Fadyns bore the Greyjoys, their was even lesser on the converse. It had been Fadyn Silverside Marines which had been the first on the beaches at Pyke and Old Wyk, and it had been Fadyn ships that sunk the ships of Rodrik and Maron Greyjoy. No. The Fadyns and Greyjoys were not fond of one another. And now, Balon Greyjoys heir, Theon, stood before her.
He was silent as they danced, and as he ignored her she did her best to get a good look at him. He was taller than Robb, with a lithe, wiry frame. His hair was short and messy, and hung in loose, dirty brown curls around his head. He wore a black doublet over his armor, embroidered with a Gold Kraken, a dark blue cloak, and black boots.
"So you're the fabled beauty of Star's Reach" he told her abruptly, still not making eye contact as they danced. "Bit of an overstatement really." He told her callously. "The great Lady Maerisa Fadyn. The mountain rose." He said sarcastically. "Not quite sure what all the fuss is really about." He shrugged nonchalantly. She did her best to remain silent, resisting the urge to slap this Greyjoy, knowing he would take more satisfaction if he managed to get a reaction out of her.
"Apparently not much of a talker either. It appears taking a Fox as your sigil doesn't impart their wit." He told her. She had always heard Greyjoys were irritating, but gods was this one infuriating. That was the last straw.
"It appears taking a squid for yours though, does impart some of its qualities" she told him curtly. "Such as being slimly and disgusting, not to mention the smell." He smirked at that. Even his smirk was infuriating. It was a cocky, self assured look, as though he was superior to everyone.
"And the young fox speaks at last. She's cleverer than she looks." He told her, still not breaking stride in the dance and still not making eye contact.
"Well I wish I could say the same of you Lord Greyjoy." She told him. "And unfortunately, you don't look particularly clever to begin with." He grinned again, a mischievous grin, infuriating, but somehow endearing. She didn't know how Robb put up with him.
"But the fox has claws and fangs, it would seem" he told her, chuckling to himself.
"And may I ask what seems to be so humorous lord Greyjoy?"
"You are my lady."
"And why might that be?" She demanded.
"Because underneath those pretty clothes, and behind that pretty face and all the innocence, you can be rather scathing. Certainly not what I was expecting from a Fadyn." He told her, finally looking at her. His eyes were bluish grey, like the sea on a stormy day.
"Was that a compliment lord Greyjoy?" He merely smirked, before leaving her, the dance over. She huffed, her heart was beating rapidly again. Damned Greyjoy, riling me up. Who does he think he is? With his damned cocky attitude and self-satisfied smirk. Gods is he irritating. She thought angrily as she walked back towards her seat, doing her best to ignore him and put him far from her thoughts. Unbeknownst to her, he watched her return to her seat, a small smile on his face as she stormed back, an irritated expression on her face.
Margaery- earlier that day
They had been riding back from King's Landing. She was accompanied by her brother, Ser Loras, and her grandmother, Olenna, as they returned to Highgarden from the capital. She had been betrothed to King Joffrey Baratheon (or Lannister as his enemies were fond of calling him) for only two months, and she was already growing exhausted with him. The boy was sadistic. He tortured women and children and seemed to revel in killing, but he was not a knight or a soldier. He was cowardly boy, who often as not hid behind his mother's skirts or his Kingsguard's armor whenever there was real work to be done. No. He was too cowardly to be a knight, and too cruel, monstrously so if Sansa Stark was to be believed. He was a spoiled brat.
But her betrothal to him had been necessary, she tried to convince herself. It provided a powerful alliance between houses Tyrell and Lannister, and, most importantly, it would make her the queen. She would improve the lives of the poor. She would help them, protect them from him, she tried to tell herself, doing her best to justify her marriage to that little bastard, telling herself that if she did not sit beside him on the throne, then someone weaker might, someone who would let him commit his atrocities. But she found that she was having trouble assuring herself. She did her best to help people though. It was her duty. One day she would be their wueen, or their lady, and it was her duty to protect and help them, whether that was through charity, medicine, or simple kindness.
Loras rode behind her, as he often did. She liked to ride out in front of the column, to be alone with her thoughts for once. Constantly playing the good, noble lady, too manage the politics and diplomacy and to smile for those you hated was exhausting, and it was nice to simply be herself once more, riding back home to spend some time away from her betrothed. Her grandmother rode farther back, sitting in a carriage, flanked by Ser Loras and other armed guards.
They were almost home. She recognized the Mander, its calm waters, as she rode through the woods. Sunlight filtered through the forest, dappling the road, and shining through the lush canopy. She could smell flowers on the breeze, growing on beside the road in clumps of red, blue, yellow, and violet and spreading out into meadows in between the trees, as songbirds darted through the canopy, their songs music as the wind ruffled the treetops.
She sighed happily. She had missed this so much. They were nearly home, and she enjoyed the feeling of the warm breeze through her hair as she rode her white mare. She heard hoofbeats approaching from farther down the road, but her view of the horse and its rider was obscured by the trees, until the horse came trotting into view. She waved to its rider, but received no reply. The horse paused on the road, watching them as they approached. She did her best to make out the rider, until the horse turned it's flank to them and she gasped, spurring her own horse faster.
The horses flank was slick with blood, and a man lay in the saddle, slumped over, unconscious. She heard Loras shout behind her, startled by her outburst, until noticing the man in the saddle. She called for Maester Cadwall to come quickly, as she neared the man.
She dismounted her horse, grabbing the reins of the man's horse and doing her best to calm it, and take its rider out of the saddle. Loras helped her, lifting the man onto the ground and doing his best to examine the man.
"He's still alive" he told her "though for how much longer I don't know. These wounds look serious." Maester Cadwall ran up to them, carrying a jug of water and his medical kit.
"Margaery, we need to clean this blood off him first. Take the water" he told her, handing her a wet cloth. She scrubbed at the mans face and armor, doing her best to locate his wound. Loras did the same, scrubbing away dried blood.
Upon closer inspection, the man was really no more than a boy, no older than herself. A large cut ran across his forehead, still bleeding. His face was pale, and his brownish blonde hair was matted in clumps with dried blood. He might've been handsome if not for the dried blood covering his face and chest. His breathing was shallow.
Loras paused for a moment, examining something on the boy's cloak.
"What?" She asked him.
"Look," he said holding up a silver pin on the boy's camouflage cloak in the shape of a leaf. "He's Ranger, he serves the Fadyns. We should leave him." She resisted the urge to slap him.
"He's wounded and you just want to leave him here? We have to help him." She told him, determined. Loras simply sighed. "As you wish sister, but father won't like it." he told her, as he went back to scrubbing the boy down. Maester Cadwall did his best to stop the blood. The boy was badly wounded and bleeding from numerous wounds. A sword had cut through his armor, slicing his side, though luckily the cut wasn't deep. The gash on his forehead wouldn't stop bleeding though, and a cut on his thigh had cut nearly to the bone, and he was bleeding from numerous other scratches and wounds. She helped Cadwall as he stitched up the boys leg, and bandaged his head, doing his best to apply a field dressing, since they were still nearly half a days ride from Highgarden. They loaded him into the carriage, beside her grandmother, who didn't complain, only saying that she would be rather cross if the boy bled on her.
"I did my best to bandage him my lady" Cadwall told her, and she nodded solemnly as they rode. "But he needs medical attention. It's of the utmost importance we get him back to Highgarden and treat him properly as soon as possible. I don't know how much time he has left, he's lost quite a bit of blood." He told her gravely.
"Then we best keep moving. And quickly" she told him, spurring her horse to a gallop, and the rest of the column followed.
