Elbert Arryn - Heir to the Vale
Coming to Riverrun was not a planned decision, that much he knew. He was raised in the Eyrie since his birth by his mother under Lord Arryn's care. For as long as he could remember, Elbert was treated as the Heir, receiving respect from both Lords and servants.
He never had friends his age growing up, and it didn't bother him much. Yet, when Robert Baratheon of Storm's End and Eddard Stark of Winterfell both arrived a moon after his eighth name-day, he was glad to have companions in the Eyrie.
They took their lessons together with Colemon for four years, learned to ride with Ser Yohn Royce of Runestone, and drilled with Ser Vardis. Robert, Ned, and Elbert. Elbert was never the best at either of the three. Robert was the best fighter, while Ned was better at riding than both. Yet, when it came to their lessons, all three of them were equally matched. They had the fields they preferred, of course, but none could be said to be better than the others.
Ned was the copper counter, always being very careful with his work. Robert was the spendthrift yet knew the histories better than anyone. Both Ned and Robert were prodigies at strategy and warcraft as well.
As for Elbert, he took to logistics and politics like fish to water.
Funny expression, yet it turned out to be a jape by the gods when his Uncle told him he was to squire under Ser Brynden Tully.
Now, he was excited to squire for a knight as renowned as the Blackfish. But he didn't want to be alone while Ned and Robert stayed back at the Eyrie. Lord Jon had then told him that another Heir of a Vale house was a ward under Lord Tully, and Elbert had raised his hopes.
Yet, as he stood beside small and sickly Petyr Baelish, he felt like he had been dealt the short end of the stick. He looked nothing like the sigil on his coat - the Titan of Braavos. Yet what Baelish lacked in body, he made up for in mind.
Maester Kym had proclaimed he had never seen a boy so well suited to economics as young Petyr. For a boy just a year younger than him, Petyr was very intelligent, yet he didn't put in the effort a driven man would. Maester Kym was disappointed when he wouldn't do more than the assigned work.
Elbert understood the situation, yet it bugged him greatly. He was good with a sword and getting better under the grueling training regiment of the Blackfish. His riding had also improved quite a bit, yet Elbert still had trouble wielding a lance while handling the reins. He had accepted the fact that he wouldn't be as good a rider as Ser Denys, who had even unhorsed Ser Brynden in the lists, but he was disappointed nonetheless.
The only thing he genuinely liked in Riverrun was a certain red-haired lady named Catelyn Tully.
He had enjoyed the afternoons with Catelyn when they would discuss the castle's happenings and their lessons. Catelyn would speak about the Septa and her teachings while sometimes talking about something the servants gossiped about. She would then hear Elbert speak about his training and raise his spirits by telling him he would make a fine knight one day.
He had had the mind to send Uncle Jon a letter, or mayhaps go for a visit to the Eyrie, to try to convince him to ask Lord Hoster for her hand in marriage.
But then, tragedy struck. Lady Minisa passed in childbirth.
The everyday life, as he knew it, was completely turned on its head. Lord Hoster was busier. When Catelyn and Lysa were not grieving in the Sept, they would be helping their father organize the send-off - writing letters of invitations to houses and lords and taking care of the logistics and hospitality for the guests. Elbert helped where he could but didn't want to intrude on House Tully's grieving much.
And then, a day before the send-off came the last guests to arrive - the Blackwoods of Raventree Hall and the Mallisters of Seagard. And with them came the cocky little shit.
Rodrik Greyjoy was everything he was taught not to be. Instead of severe and stern, he was joking and casual. Instead of honor and respect, he answered with sarcasm and arrogance. And to top it all off, nobody said a word to reprimand him. He had expected Catelyn to agree on this assessment of him, especially when he regaled her the bet Rodrik had made with her uncle and how he had shamed him in the courtyard in full view of the common folk and the lords.
And to his shock, Catelyn had simply sighed and shrugged it off!
Not knowing what to do and where to place all the frustration, he had just kept silent at the feast while bearing with Lysa's inane blabbering. He felt ashamed for a second for judging a girl three years her junior like that before the frustration struck again, harsher this time. The thoughts had raged in his head as he tried to put himself to sleep, failing in yet another thing.
Giving up on going to sleep at all, he noticed it was the Hour of the Wolf. Making up his mind, ten minutes later, he stumbled out of his room, already dressed for the send-off.
He could hardly see anyone awake. The castle walls were deserted, save for a few guards almost on the verge of nodding off.
He waved them aside with a gesture before exiting out of the main entrance and making his way towards the Sept. He needed some time with the Seven. His thoughts were going haywire, and he felt he needed to calm himself before he did something drastic.
The sept inside Riverrun was nothing like the Sept inside the Eyrie. The Eyrie had one on top of one of the five towers. Riverrun had one in between the Barracks and the Smithy. While Riverrun's Sept was bigger, it was used by Lords, servants, and common folk alike.
The Sept in the Eyrie was exclusive for the Arryns and their guests. While he frequented there with Robert and Denys more times than ever, he had never felt the need for the silence of the Sept in the Eyrie.
Here, the Sept was barricaded at night. The Septon usually woke up at dawn and opened the gates, allowing entry to all desiring to pray in the mornings. But he needed the presence of the gods, and he needed that now. So he did what he could. He knocked on the door and waited.
Not a sound came from the inside.
A minute later, he knocked again, louder this time.
And yet another minute, he waited. When it became apparent that no one was coming, his shoulders slumped. It was foolish of him to hope someone was awake already. It was the hour of the wolf, after all. Then he remembered the godswood.
He recalled the time they were in Runestone. Robert, Ned, and himself, along with a retinue. Ned had taken the first moment he could and asked for permission to visit the godswood.
And the northerner had dragged the Stormlord and himself along. It was quite different from the Septs he had visited.
In the Septs, when they were open, there was always a Septon, or a group of them sometimes, giving a sermon. The tall statues of the seven standing above him, the stained glass windows bathing the worshippers in colored light.
The godswood was the complete opposite. It was in the middle of a small forest half a mile from the keep. The three of them had been followed by five guardsmen from the Eyrie and three from Runestone, and the ones Lord Royce had supplied had led the way.
The forest was a thick one, dark, with barely a few rays of sunlight coming in. Yet, the weirwood was easily seen. It was the thickest tree Elbert had ever seen and stood not just tall but wide enough to cover the clearing in red leaves shed during the Autumn.
And in front of the watchful gaze of the face carved in the bark were two men sparring.
Elbert had seen Robert and Ned spar. Robert was a demon with his warhammer, yet Ned was quick. Quick enough to avoid most hits on foot and deliver as good as he received. But watching the two fighters in front of him, Robert and Ned's skill paled in comparison. The larger man wielded a morningstar and a knife, while the smaller had a shield and a longsword.
Following Ned's lead, they stayed silent as they walked forward but left the two undisturbed as they sparred. He had thought the larger man would win, with the way he was dominating his slightly smaller opponent - keeping him on the backfoot when suddenly, the smaller one blocked a swing of the morningstar with the shield and clubbed him in the chin with the hilt of the sword.
"You still grip it too tightly when you're on the attack, my friend." The smaller one had said before he turned to face Elbert's party. Robert started with introductions, and that's when he first met Yohn Royce, the taller fighter. The other, a Samwell Stone, was a bastard cousin to the Heir to Runestone. And these two were the best fighters Elbert had seen till that day.
Denys, Robert, and Ned came close, but he still thought Yohn Royce could easily handle Robert, at least as Robert was back then. They were still growing lads after all. He had no doubt Samwell Stone would wipe the floor with Ned and Denys.
And yet, the introductions in the dark didn't take too long. The solemnity of the godswood took precedence, and just when the names had been exchanged, and hands shook, Ned walked forward to the carved face and knelt. His left palm touched half a foot underneath the mouth, between the two tracts of red formed by the tears leaking from its eyes.
Yohn Royce followed his lead, and one by one, Robert, Samwell, and finally, Elbert knelt.
He had been confused at first, not knowing what to do, but then Yohn Royce just gestured to his temple and then to his eyes before facing the tree once again. Elbert tried to follow, closing his eyes and speaking his usual prayers silently in his mind.
The guards had stood a certain distance away, some expressionless and one with a slight scowl. He was probably a devout follower of the Seven, but Elbert didn't care much. He followed the Seven, yes, but he didn't see the harm in following Ned here. After all, Ned had seen several mornings in the Sept with Robert and Elbert and stood with them when Denys was married. The least he could do was reciprocate in silence while Ned prayed to his gods.
The thoughts went out of his head as he approached the garden gates that enclosed the godswood at Riverrun. The air was silent, and the sky dark. The birds had yet to wake, he noticed. The only sound except the crunching of the soil beneath his feet was the small streams flowing into the dozen small pools that littered the gardens.
He had been here before, he mused, slightly shook by the eeriness of the godswood. That was during the day, though. He had been here more than a dozen times, and it was usually right after breaking his fast and before going to the maester's rooms. And almost all the times, he had come with a pouch of gold.
And as he walked closer to the spot where the thin weirwood stood, he could spot two silhouettes.
"Argent," he said, as he walked closer once he recognized one of the voices.
The taller of the two snapped around, and Elbert's eyes rested on the still red-looking scar that ran from his right cheekbone to his chin, through the lips.
It was, after all, the man's most distinguishable feature.
"Falcon," came the reply. It meant that the person beside him, who was still hidden, could be trusted, else the response would have been 'Master Arryn.'
"I would never have guessed an Arryn would lower himself to treat with an Argent." the other figure scoffed. And then he - because from the voice, it was male - bit into something in his right hand.
If nothing else, Elbert could recognize the damned sound of the apple being chewed on. What in the name of the Stranger was Greyjoy doing here? With Argent?
Ignoring the annoying ironborn for the moment, he turned back to Argent.
"How do you know him?" Elbert demanded, "You told me you'd spent your whole life in the Riverlands?"
"And I, Lord Elbert, spent the past three years in Castle Seagard myself. If it makes you feel any better, though, it is the first time I'm meeting Nate here."
"Who is Nate?" he asked, frustrated. Ever since yesterday, things in Riverrun weren't making the tiniest amount of sense!
"I am," came the reply from the man he had known for six months as Argent.
"You didn't even ask his name? And you pay him to get you things?" Greyjoy snarked.
Before he could voice his frustrations, though, Argent, or Nate, whoever he is, pitched in.
"Let us not begin the morning on a sour note. I have yet to light up my first pipe of sourleaf yet." He said, before looking at Rodrik Greyjoy, and then back at Elbert, then collapsing into a wheezing laughing fit.
"Sour note, sour leaf!" he whisper laughed.
"Nate." was all Rodrik said before he turned to Elbert, "So what is Falcon here getting from the Argent in Riverrun?"
"Why do you ask? And on that note, what are you getting?"
"Well, I was looking for some more apples and five pounds of unmarked gold."
"And an ironwood shield, let's not forget that." piped in Nate, leaning into the tree and stuffing herbs into an odd-looking pipe. Elbert didn't know what it was, but he had seen Lord Redfort using one.
"You fucking idiot, you weren't supposed to say that in front of him! I wanted it to be a surprise gift!" Rodrik whisper shouted.
"An ironwood shield? And who was it supposed to be a gift for? How in the name of the Seven are you paying for all that?" asked Elbert, dazed. It all sounded mighty expensive.
As far as he knew, ironwood shields in the South cost anywhere between eighty and three hundred gold dragons. And the five-pound block of gold would easily be double that.
Rodrik sighed, "Well, I suppose since he already let it out, it was supposed to be for you. You know, since we're going to be sharing quarters for a while now. And I'm paying for it out of my own pockets. It's my cut of the earnings working as a steward in the docks of Seagard."
Elbert didn't know how to respond to that. Yet another thing that didn't make any sense. He just met the boy, and now he finds out he's paying a smuggler to get an ironwood shield as a gift to him?
He just stared at Rodrik, dazed, for a few moments.
"So, what are you paying him to get?" Rodrik asked after a moment of discomfort.
"Oh. Just a barrel of sweetwine. I can't stomach ale, and the merchants here ask for a price double of what we buy it for in Gulltown. Three dragons for a barrel of sweetwine? And Ar... Nate here gets me two barrels for three dragons and twelve stags." he finished quietly. His order was insignificant compared to what Rodrik was buying.
"Ah, sweetwine. I like the taste, but it's nothing compared to Pyke's Hard Lemonade. I have some in a cart somewhere. Try that first before buying more sweetwine. I bet you'll like it even better. The first jug's on me. And it's a dragon a barrel."
"Hey! Now don't go stealing away my buyers!" Nate called.
"I'm paying you six hundred gold dragons for all of it. Now tell me, how long will it take for you to get it to me?"
"Ten days. The Argent in Ashemark would get my raven in a day, and then it'll take him two days to ride to the end of the Tumblestone. I'll take a boat, get there by the time he arrives, and take a cart back to Riverrun. Or, I would have if I were to be picking up the sweetwine from Wayfarers Rest. That's why ten days instead of a fortnight." He glared at Rodrik as he said that.
"I'll pay for two pairs of spare horseshoes for you instead of two barrels of sweetwine." Rodrik interrupted before Nate could push up the price, he realized. Elbert would never have been quick-witted enough to think and say it that way.
Nate just sighed and walked off.
And then it was just the two of them alone in the godswood.
"Have you ever knelt in front of a heart tree before?" asked Rodrik.
"Aye, I have. In Runestone with Ned and Robert. Ah, Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon." Elbert responded, correcting himself immediately since Rodrik would probably not know who he was mentioning.
"Shall we?" was all Rodrik said before kneeling, placing a hand on the stark white bark of the tree. Elbert followed, and they kneeled in that position for some time till his knees started aching.
Rodrik breathed a deep sigh before pulling his hand off the bark. He opened his eyes and continued to look down at the ground.
"Do you think the gods exist, Arryn?"
"Call me Elbert," he said absentmindedly, thinking on the question asked instead.
"I… I don't know. The Septons say they do, so do the Northmen and you Iron Islanders. People think they exist?"
"Hmm. What do you think their purpose is? If they exist, that is." was Rodrik's quick response.
"The Septon," started Elbert, but he was swiftly cut off.
"I'm asking what you think, Elbert. Not what the Septons have told you." came the sharp voice.
"They decide our fate?" To his shame, it came out more as a question than an answer.
"So we don't make our own path, necessarily?" Rodrik asked.
"I don't know. Gods! What do you think of them?" Elbert couldn't believe how much Rodrik infuriated him. He hadn't lost his cool to anyone in the six moons he had been here, and here he was, getting mad at a boy almost every hour!
"I think it's all in our heads, you know. I've seen a woman lift an entire mast by herself to save her lover who was trapped underneath it. It takes a dozen full-grown men, struggling for a day to get the mast in place. Do you think it was the Gods who helped her?" He paused for a minute then.
"No, as I said before, it's all in the mind. She knew what she had to do, and she knew the consequences. Whatever the fate of that man was, was it in the hands of the Gods or his lover?" He continued, not letting Elbert voice his thoughts. "Think about it."
And with that, Rodrik stood up to leave, "We should make our way back. The send-off starts in an hour. It was good to speak to you, Elbert."
He could only nod in response, thoughts swirling in his head.
Lord Damon Mallister
He saw Rodrik walk out of the Godswood when he woke up at dawnbreak. And as he stood there, taking in the chilly morning air that belayed the coming of Winter, he saw another figure walk out.
Elbert Arryn.
Gods, the boy looked so lost. He smiled to himself. From what Jason told him last night, Rodrik had made quite the impression here at Riverrun. It only made him more confident about his choice in leaving him here with the Blackfish.
He went to the table across his bed and splashed his face with some water. He wiped the excess off before quickly changing into his clothes. Gulping down some water from the goblet on his bedside, he made his way out and almost bumped into Tomas Blackwood.
"There you are. I was looking for you," said Tomas, falling into step beside him.
"Aye? What for?" he asked.
"Well, you didn't finish the tale about the Greyjoy boy and the Quartermaster, and I couldn't wait to hear it, HA!" he snickered.
"Ah, that. Well, you know how the boy worked under him for a year and a half. The first six moons the Quartermaster took him under his wing, and the next year was Greyjoy taking the Quartermaster under his wing. Quite the change. Brought in around twelve thousand dragons more than the usual." He told him truthfully; it was the father of his gooddaughter, after all.
Tomas gasped.
"You're japing. Twelve thousand dragons?" He couldn't believe it. To be fair, Damon wouldn't believe it either, unless he hadn't seen the ledgers himself. He told him that.
"And then, I gave him a tenth of it - as his cut." Damon finished.
"You gave a boy more than a thousand gold dragons. What's he to do with it?" Tomas asked incredulously.
"Well, he… let's say, acquired, an ironwood lance for Jason, for one." And that left Tomas sputtering.
"Wha… how? And where can I get one for myself?"
"Old Quellon still sails to Barrowtown frequently, and there's a man there that sells it. Calls himself Argent. I heard it cost him a good three hundred dragons for a lance Jason might never use. Then again, it's ironwood and won't spoil for the next fifty years, at least. It could even last two hundred years if we properly take care of it. That's more than five generations. I also heard he acquired something for the Lords Tully. Don't know what, I'll have to see for myself at today's feast."
"Aye, that's very interesting. A Greyjoy paying the gold price! Ha!"
"You know how Quellon is, Tomas. And Rodrik is following right in his footsteps. I think we can expect the unexpected from the Greyjoys this generation."
"Aye, that's true, I guess." they finished as they walked into the front yard. Lords had been gathering there for a while now, and they mingled in silence, so Damon and Tomas complied.
It didn't take long for Rodrik to arrive, coming to stand beside him. And a minute later, the Tully brothers arrived with the children behind them. They didn't stop to greet anyone, and the Lords waiting followed them silently to the Red Fork, where the Steward had prepared the boat carrying the Late Lady Tully's remains.
The Septon arrived then and made a short prayer while the Blackfish and his men lowered the boat into the river. As the prayer finished, Elbert passed the Bow and the small quiver he was holding to Hoster.
Ser Brynden brought forth a lit torch, and Hoster dipped his arrow into it after a few moments. He then drew the bow and released the flaming arrow. The aim was not perfect, but one couldn't ask that from a grieving man. Yet the arrow had landed in the boat. It took a few seconds before the wood ignited, and the Lords collectively breathed a sigh of relief.
Damon remembered then how the Tullys used to do this ritual on the Tumblestone some centuries back, but then one of the Tullys was a poor shot. The much faster current of the Tumblestone carried the boat away before anyone else could land an arrow. That man didn't stay Lord Tully for long, and there hadn't been an Edwin Tully since.
Pushing that thought away, he focused on the present, waiting and praying in silence till the boat disappeared into the horizon.
"My Lords, now we shall break our fast. To the Great Hall, please." declared Hoster, walking away.
Jason motioned Rodrik to follow him, and they made their way to their rooms. Any gifts for the prosperity of the next generation were to be given now. He saw the other lords scrambling away to their rooms as well.
It didn't take them long to reach their rooms. At some point, Victarion had replaced Rodrik, who would be presenting his own gifts as heir to a Lord Paramount. He motioned Victarion to pick up the polished scale barding he had brought for the Blackfish's horse. The same one that Rodrik had made a scene around the previous afternoon.
There was also a set of eagle feather quills and an enameled steel suit of armor, colored into the Tully red and blue. For the Lord Tully. He had had some extra gold and decided to get the best he could at short notice.
All of that was in a chest that Victarion would be dragging along. It was pretty heavy, and he didn't pity the boy for it. Opening his door just a bit, Damon whistled sharply, and soon a pair of servants presented themselves. They helped Victarion with the chest while he led the small party of four to the Great Hall.
Once there, he saw Rodrik and Tomas making their way to the hall together, with two pairs of servants carrying their chests as well. The Blackwood engraved chest was bigger than Rodrik's and even his own, yet he was more curious about what lay inside the smaller chest. His eyes went towards the opening doors of the hall as Lord Darry entered and was announced.
Lords went in one after the other, with the richer and more prestigious ones going in first. So he wasn't surprised when right after Lord Darry, the guard gestured for Lord Mooton, then turned to him and indicated that Damon would be up next.
Damon nodded back in acknowledgment and then gestured to Rodrik as well, walking towards the door. Rodrik, though had his servants stay where they were.
"I'll be in last, my lord. I requested that of Lord Brynden, and he allowed it. I was just telling Lord Blackwood about that conversation."
"Aye, which means everyone'll be seeing what he presents. That confident are you, boy?!" Tomas challenged.
"Only time will tell, my lords," Rodrik said with a smirk, slinking back towards the side of the entrance chamber where he previously was.
Soon, the guard called Damon inside. He entered swiftly, wasting no time with needless pleasantries and presenting his gifts to the two brothers. Brynden smiled a bit at the scale barding, and Hoster graciously accepted the shield.
Damon could sense the odd looks of Lord Darry and Lord Mooton as he presented the lords with expensive gifts - well, more expensive than theirs, probably.
Lord Whent came in next, with a wolfskin pelt for each. The one for Hoster was dyed red, while the one for Brynden was dyed black - fitting, he thought.
Then came Lord Bracken, with a pair of jeweled swords in equally intricate sheaths.
After him came Tomas Blackwood, who brought forth a gigantic six-foot-long elephant tusk warhorn out of his chest. The hall quietened considerably when the pearly white horn was presented, and there were a few dumbfounded looks. Yet, the Blackfish accepted the horn on behalf of the brothers. And then, out of the very same chest came another large object. It was a cage - a rather large one with a very unusual creature inside it.
"My son Tytos brought down this red raven on one of his hunting trips recently, my lord. Yet it wasn't dead, so he nursed it back to health. And we present this as a gift to Lord Tully."
Tully, Tully, Tully echoed the raven.
Damon was confident that nothing else presented here today would be more impressive than the spectacle that Tomas produced. And that belief held as other lords came and presented and then took their seats.
Yet, he found himself, and after a glance, Tomas as well, gripping his goblet in anticipation of Rodrik's entrance.
"And lastly, we have the eldest grandson of Lord Quellon Greyjoy - Rodrik Greyjoy of Pyke!" announced the herald.
Rodrik entered sharply then, with sure steps and a charming smile on his face. Behind him, the servants carrying his chest along. As they set it down in front of him, he opened it in one swift pull and then brought out a smallish box. Walking towards the head table, he laid the box in front of Lord Hoster.
"Inside this box, my Lord, is a device the jewelers made in Seagard. I came up with the idea and the design - and with their help, we now have a device that can tell a man the exact hour of the day. Be it winter or summer, night or day, sunny or rainy, on solid ground or open seas, it shows the exact hour true. My Lord, as of today, this is just one of two such 'timepieces' in existence. One is in the pockets of my grandfather. And now I present you with the other!" He finished with a flourish.
He then moved towards the Blackfish, whispering something to him. The Tully Lords nodded in unison, and Rodrik took a step back.
"I have not forgotten you, Ser Brynden," Rodrik started again. He reached into the chest once again, bringing out another box, though larger than the previous.
"I've heard tales of you. I daresay every single highborn of my generation has. One of the things they praised you for is your ability to travel very fast - which means you travel light. Here's a pair of gauntlets from the forges of Pyke. Half the weight of tanned hide and double its protection. And it comes in black!" He proudly presented the box to Ser Brynden, who looked at him challengingly.
"And how would it fare if I brought down my knife on it full force? As you know, the only reason I wear leather is that it allows me to wield my bow on horseback. Any fool could wear plate, but then they'd have to surrender their bow or waste all their arrows." He challenged.
"If you would open it, Ser. Also, good thing it's not plate then." Rodrik replied, wiping his brow as if he was ever nervous.
Damon could see the game he was playing and had to admit it worked masterfully. One did not make such claims lightly, for a rival lord would challenge it. And it seemed that Rodrik had expected that all along.
As the Blackfish opened the box, Damon could make out the small black steel plates sewn into the seal hide. So that was his secret. He had to admit; it was pretty clever. However, its look didn't convince him that it would allow him to shoot a bow while wearing it.
The Blackfish turned it over, inspecting it in his hands, deeming it satisfactory. He then set it on the table, grabbed his knife, and then stabbed it so hard against the gauntlet that it snapped in half.
The entire hall had turned quiet at that action.
"The steel piece here broke." came Ser Brynden's voice, breaking the quiet of the hall.
"But it didn't break through the leather. There are thirty replacement pieces in the box under the cloth. Your squire could replace it in minutes. Also, a man of your skill isn't going to be hit in the same place twice, is he?" asked Rodrik rhetorically.
"No. No, he isn't."
And with that, Rodrik smiled and closed his chest, sending away the servants and walking towards Damon. He took his seat next to Damon and stretched once, probably to rid away all the tension in his bones.
The rest of the feast progressed quickly. There were murmurs throughout it, of course, and most were talking about the timepiece itself. Damon personally never saw the need for it. At least not in the Summer. Yet it was spring already, and a five-moon-long winter had just ended. He guessed it could've been more valuable to the lords further north - where they didn't see the sun for good four of the five moons.
No Lord there called on Greyjoy to ask about it, though. Whether they thought he was boastful by claiming he made it or thought it useless didn't matter. They wouldn't want to anger their hosts with their words. It was their gift - they would hear about it soon enough.
Soon, he could see the lords moving out of the hall. It was the breaking of the fast; hence they served not more than a goblet of ale to anyone. Those were left for the evening feasts. A servant was waiting around a corner for Rodrik, though. Apparently, Hoster wanted a word.
Damon sent him off without fanfare. He wasn't to be his squire for long, anyway. Rodrik would be Tully's headache now. He had gotten over the apples soon enough, but gods, he still remembered the first few weeks. That annoying crunch used to be the bane of his life. He just wished he was here long enough to see the face of Hoster when he heard the boy had gone swimming in the Tumblestone.
There was a reason the River Gate was closed for almost the entirety of Spring. The snows melted in the hills where the Tumblestone started, and the current was strong enough that small boats were devastated within minutes.
Well, not his problem anymore. He would be relishing his last few years in this world without that kind of worry on his mind, thank the gods.
Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun - Lord Paramount of the Riverlands
Rodrik Greyjoy walked into the room a moment after he called, "Come in!"
Brynden was standing to his left and Catelyn on his right. His little girl had washed her face and prepared herself once more. If she still had tears flowing, he wouldn't have had her in the room, but since she seemed to be trying, he would allow it.
Also, he wanted to see how Greyjoy acted with those closer to his age. He had seen how Cat had clung to him at the feast the night before. And he needed to be sure what his intentions were - with everything that had happened already, and then with those gifts that were most definitely worth a pretty penny.
So, he cut straight to it and shot off a, "What do you want, Greyjoy?"
He could hear his brother snort beside him, but he ignored that to focus on the boy's face instead.
"Why the expensive gifts? I know there's a reason behind it. So tell me. And tell me true. You've had my bread and salt already, and I promise no harm will come to you whatever you say. It is a whole different discussion whether you'll be getting it again if you ever step out, though."
When his expression didn't change at the assurance, he ended with a slight threat instead. Just to see the reaction, and see it he did - that slight smirk that came across his lips and the subtle twitch of his eyebrow.
"Well, I just wanted to squire under Ser Brynden. I did have a request, though. You may have heard that my Grandfather promised to take me on my first true voyage at eight. I also heard that there was talk about delaying that for the term of my squiring under Ser Brynden here. I wanted to ask if you might allow that journey still. Ser Brynden is welcome to join us, as is Elbert."
Hoster thought about it. That made sense, albeit not enough to satisfy him. "And the timepiece?"
"Well, to be truthful, my lord, it does as I say. But it needs to be, how do I say it, wound up after every week. I included a parchment underneath the velvet to make it easier for you and whoever maintains it for you to understand. It's a luxury piece for now, but soon you'll see how much it changes your life when you spend precisely an hour training or know exactly when to schedule meetings to the minute. There is no more waiting around, no more wasted time. I believe the Hand of the King and the Small Council would pay a hefty sum for it. If it ever stops working, send it to me, and I'll fix it up in a day. Do remember, I will know if there's any tampering done. And if that is the case, it will cost you to get it fixed - instead of being done for free. Also, when it comes to the market, every one of those will be ten thousand gold dragons."
"So if I hear things correctly, then you wish for me to use this to make it popular with the other high lords so that they buy from you. Alright, what do I get out of it?" retorted Hoster.
"As many as five timepieces you buy from me will be half the price for you." was his quick response.
Hoster could give it to him. He certainly knew how to barter. Hoster thought himself to be one of the smarter lords around. He could see the value of this as a gift to the right people. Though he hated the Essosi High Lords and Slavers, they would love this timepiece - making their pit fights and whatnot timely.
"Fifteen at half price," Hoster responded a few moments later, grabbing his wine goblet and sipping it. He was enjoying this.
"Hmm. I can't do that, Lord Tully. That is seventy-five thousand gold dragons," he said, then seemed to think for a few seconds.
"How about this - fifteen for half price, and you get me a meeting with the High Septon." And he promptly choked on his wine.
A meeting with the High Septon? Seven Hells! What was this boy thinking?! He had to think about this. This was not a decision he could make while lightly. His reputation with the Faith would be at stake if it went wrong.
On second thought, no, it wasn't. His mind raced for a second, and then he calmed - too soon for the average person to notice.
"Well, I don't know what you'll do with the High Septon, but I can get you ten minutes. There is a tourney in Lannisport for the first name-day of Prince Viserys in four months. He should be there with the Royal party. I believe you'll be going there with my brother and Elbert. A good number of heirs and Lords from the Riverlands will also be journeying there for the tourney. That should be as good a time as any for the High Septon, no?" Hoster finished.
He knew it was a gamble, but from what he had seen, the boy was smart enough not to ruin things with the High Septon completely. It would cripple his timepiece business in its infancy if that happened. With that much at stake for the Greyjoy boy, he felt somewhat confident in his decision to allow him that audience with his clout.
"Aye, my lord. That would be perfect. Also, getting back to our previous discussion, if you agree, I would like to start my squiring with Ser Brynden in Lannisport itself. Ser Brynden, what say you?"
"Why not now?" Brynden spoke with a grunt.
"Well, I wanted to head to Pyke. Grandfather is there at the moment, and we could start on our voyage now. That way, we'd be in Lannisport at the time of the Tourney, and we could continue from there. I also have a brother now, two years old, and I have yet to meet him, my Lord."
"Do you know what Quellon has in mind for this voyage?" he asked Rodrik.
"Well, last we met, he told me that we would first sail to Barrowtown and then south from there. Seagard, Lordsport, Faircastle, Lannisport, where we'd stay for the tourney's duration. From there to Highgarden, and then Oldtown, the Arbor, and Starfall. Onwards would probably be Plankytown, but you get the gist of it. We will end at White Harbor then. The rest of us will disembark there while Grandfather proceeds to Braavos and further beyond. Most of it is not necessary, but Barrowtown, Lannisport, Oldtown, Storm's End, and King's Landing will be on the list of our stops. A circuit of Westeros, if you will."
"And you want Brynden and Elbert to join you for this voyage? Well, Brynden can decide for himself," Hoster said. To which Brynden's quick response was an, "I'm all for it."
"As for Elbert, I will have to write to Jon Arryn for permission. He might want you to make a stop at Gulltown, though. So speak to Quellon on it. That is if Elbert gets permission."
"Ah, well, I couldn't ask for more, my lord. If that is all?" Rodrik asked.
"How much longer would you be staying here at Riverrun?"
"Well, I have an appointment in ten days," he started.
"With Nate, I assume?" Hoster finished for him with a raised eyebrow. He knew almost everything that happened in his castle. Men like Nate, while skirting with the law, had their uses. As long as he shed no blood, he didn't see why he should barge into the merchants' business. Though it irked him that he hadn't yet found out who he worked for, the Argent. It was almost like an organization. He would keep it in mind, to come back to it once the lords were gone from his castle.
"And what is it you're getting from him?" asked Hoster instead.
"Ah, six pounds worth of solid gold, for the timepieces, and an ironwood shield I thought to give as a gift to Elbert."
Hoster raised an eyebrow in interest. That wasn't anything to scoff at; it was a big purchase. "If it isn't something you need immediately, I could hold onto it for you. Perhaps Brynden could bring it to Lannisport when we go there? I'm just asking for I don't want you to be late in your coming to Lannisport. It's a mere four months away, and it will take you that time if things aren't arranged previously. Have my maester send a raven, and then prepare to depart by noon. I'll send four of Brynden's guards with you to Seagard. I trust you can find your way back from there?"
"I am fine with that, my lord. I have another request if you don't mind. Just check once to make sure Nate gives you the entire six pounds. And, I gave him my word that I'd have his horse fixed with steel horseshoes shoes if he got it to me in ten days. Would it be possible for you to spare four good horseshoes for that? Only if he comes in ten days will you need it." He asked with a sheepish smile.
"I'll do that. But that's it. Now get packed. I'll have rations ready with the guards at noon." commanded Hoster.
He wanted to end this conversation. It had gone on too long as it was. And he needed time to think about the deal he had made with the boy. And there were also the lords who would be requesting meetings soon. He wasn't excited for that, especially not the dreadfully boring meeting when Darry and Mooton would be trying to swindle him out of more authority.
He sighed and dismissed both Catelyn and Brynden and took another gulp of wine. On second, nay, third thought, why had he agreed to ask the High Septon for that meeting? Ah well, what's done is done. He'd have to hope Rodrik didn't make a mess of things.
He stood up from his desk and faced the Myrish looking glass on the sidewall - placed to keep an eye on the hands of the person standing in front of him. There had been an incident that he could do without a repeat of.
He looked his reflection in the eye and raised the goblet of wine in a toast. This would either be a great success or a tough loss. But he had made the deal and shook his hand. Now to wait for four months to see how it would pan out. Then he could have a long chat with Quellon himself. He needed whatever the old man was feeding his grandson.
A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to my first project ever. This started around two months ago on a different forum, and I've finally got around to posting it here. Don't get too used to Author's Notes, as they likely won't be a part of the chapter uploads. I would rather keep the material that you guys clicked on the link for. And before more questions are asked about it, my usual chapter sizes will be more around the 6-10k word mark than the first few chapters. Those were me just testing the waters and incorporating some feedback. And there you have it folks, a PJO X ASoIaF crossover that would hopefully be complete one day, unlike pretty much every other story in this fandom.