Riverrun: Alliance
Florian was running behind. The poor red-haired lord was buckling his long boots, the auburn hair completely thrown everywhere. He had slept far too late that morning, and into the afternoon. By the time he had actually let the servants in to gather his things for the journey to Harrenhal, it was deep into the evening.
"Just give it up," His sister said in an amused tone behind him, relaxing against the doorway. "We'll still make it in time if we leave in the morning."
Florian was tossing clothes out of the chest he was due to take - sometimes they didn't make the right choices of what he wanted. He liked blues and greens, something he'd impressed upon them, but they always found time to throw in brown and red clothes as well. In the process, he was rumpling what was left over, and making quite a mess of what he was throwing out.
"No," Florian grunted as he shoved another doublet into the chest - a nice sea green that he had favored for years. "I'm ready, I swear. I slept enough last night that I should be able to make it all the way there tonight."
Celia rolled her eyes fondly, walking over and putting a hand over his shoulder. She gave it a light squeeze and pointed out the window to where the sun was setting. "You may be fine, brother, but I guarantee you the guards will be cursing your name for a week." She wouldn't let her brother know, but she had planned for them to be a bit late. There was something that needed to happen first (and it was best if he didn't know she had started it).
Florian buried his head in his hands - it was his fault that they weren't going to make it to Harrenhal on time. After all House Tully had been through, it wasn't going to make for a pleasant arrival.
It had all started years before, when Florian and Celia weren't even born. The young Hoare prince (now King) had become smitten with the young Lady Tully. One night when the castle was sleeping, he took her from the castle to Harrenhal and subjected her to a life with the ironborn. Her two brothers, the eldest and Lord, were Rian, while her younger brother was Ser Lucan Tully. Lord Rian could do little to defend her, and a falling out ensued between the remaining brothers.
Through the years, the relationship patched and Lucan returned to Riverrun. Then, after Florian's years of boyhood, the ironborn had caught Lord Rian on the road and ran him through with a pike. They claimed they didn't know who he was, but everyone knew it was a lie. Ser Lucan, then men-at-arms for the young Florian Tully (14 at the time), raised the banners in revolt against the Hoare Kings.
No Riverland houses joined. There had been a sizable revolt only a decade before which had crushed the fighting spirit they all had. Young Florian Tully was given two options: continue the revolt as he came into his lordship, and face certain doom, or give up the castle to the Hoares. Resigned to his fate, he opened the castle gates, and since, the lands have been under subtle ironborn occupation. Men could be seen all over Tully lands, often terrorizing the folk that lived under them. Their lord could do nothing. After that, Lucan Tully fled Riverrun, angered with his young nephew. For years, no one had heard from him in Riverrun, until Celia herself just a few moons ago.
It had been the dead of night, and she'd heard the door creaking open. She was terrified, undeniably so, and gripped the knife she kept hidden under her pillow. She'd thought it was some ironborn coming to terrorize her at night. Instead, a candle was held aloft in his hand and it was her uncle. They'd talked for hours, and he'd even slipped out her window to leave that night. He hadn't said so in exact words, but Celia knew it was time for Lucan to meet with Florian again.
"Most of the ironborn are gone," Celia said helpfully as she rubbed his back. "You'll be able to leave in peace, we'll have a nice ride there. Much more pleasant than if the Codds would grace us with their presence."
Truth be told, the castle was near empty. It seemed as though everyone in Riverrun anymore was a servant of the ironborn. It was a shell of itself now - few swore themselves to Lord Tully now. Celia boiled with anger every time she saw men sniggering at him as he walked in his own keep. It wasn't his fault things had happened this way - he had been just a kid. Now, she would do what she could to help him.
"I suppose." Florian gave her a kind smile and wrapped his arm around her. "We'll go down to the river, like we always used to." It was far away from the castle (though still on Tully lands). It surprised her that he'd mentioned it, but she was glad anyway. Her uncle had suggested that spot, and Celia was planning to bring it up herself.
"That sounds lovely." Celia slipped her arm in with his, and they walked together out of the room.
The halls were quiet, only a few servants here and there dusting or washing parts of the floor. The two red-haired Tullys maneuvered out the gates, and for the first time in years, no ironborn were camped on their lawn. Celia smiled to herself, glancing up at her older brother and could see him visibly relax. It had taken just as much of a toll on him as it had her.
"Maybe you'll get to see your Lannister crush," Celia teased and poked him in the side. "I will never forget the first time you saw her - we were...what, thirteen?" A silence hung in the air for a bit as they both knew it was shortly before the castle had been taken. "I've never seen someone's face get that red when she kissed your cheek."
Florian let out a laugh - nice and lyrical that made Celia smile. It had been at least a month since she'd heard him laugh like that. "Oh no," He smiled a bit wistfully as they walked through the grassy plain. "King Lannister put that quite to bed."
Celia poked him in the side, tossing her auburn hair behind her head with a grin. "Don't give up, brother. You're quite handsome, she'd be lucky to have you."
Florian squeezed her shoulder as they came upon the river together. The water was low, and slow-moving. It was little more than a creek, but the 'Riverlands' had to supply as many rivers as possible. "And for you, sister? I've scarcely been able to meet with any other lords, though the requests have been numerous."
Celia was relieved that Florian hadn't chosen yet. She didn't necessarily abhor the idea of marriage, but she wanted it to be to a good man. And, her business wasn't complete in Riverrun yet. The house was still too fragile.
They let go of each other as they got to the riverbank. Florian undid his shoes and set them to the side, putting his pale feet into the cold waters. It'd been rainy and dreary for a while, creating less than warm conditions most times (as well as the creek ran south, rather than east). There were some wildflowers on the other bank, which she had been prone to collecting as a child.
They sat and chatted for a while, as the sun finally sank beneath the horizon. They could finally forget about all the things the ironborn had done and said, and just be themselves again. She almost felt bad when she heard the horse's hooves galloping towards them.
Florian looked up, and luckily for her, was unable to see who was on the back because of the angle they were at. But when her uncle swung over the side, she knew he saw them. Her usually-jovial brother was rigid, and hands were clasped tightly at his sides as he slowly got to his feet.
"Uncle," Florian crossed his arms over his chest, his teeth gritted.
"Lord Tully," Lucan replied, giving him a slight bow of the head. Her uncle had gone partially grey by that point - at least mostly in the roots of his hair, fanning out to more fiery Tully red at the edges. Celia hadn't even gotten him to tell her half of the stuff he'd done since leaving Riverrun.
"Come back to remind me what I've done wrong?" Bitterness poisoned the tone of her brother, and Celia put her hand on his arm. This couldn't end before it begins.
"I told him to come," Celia said softly before her uncle could fire a barb back at him. "He has some things to tell us, that's all."
Utterly resigned, Florian glanced to their uncle. Celia thanked all seven gods that his face had softened. They can't fight with each other before we can fight the ironborn. We wouldn't have the strength. Lucan motioned, and they all took seats in the grass by their uncle's horse.
"What is it?" Florian was a little curious despite himself, his hands folded neatly in his lap.
Ser Lucan reached across and squeezed his niece's hand, Celia smiling a bit as she felt the familiar warmth. "The time has come to raise the banners again. This whole wedding, feast, it's all just a trick that the Hoares are putting on for everyone. They know that the clock is ticking down, the wolves, lions, and stags are coming to feast on their entrails. When that time comes, House Tully will need to be ready - not just to defend themselves, but to decide who deserves their loyalty."
Immediately, disbelief crossed her brother's features. "They've said that for years. That House Lannister or Gardener or some other king will come and free us, but it hasn't happened. We traded a cruel King from Storm's End for a cruel King from Harrenhal the last time we rebelled and won. What makes you think something will change?"
"It's not something. It's someone." Celia felt goosebumps as she heard her uncle talk. To be honest with herself, she had been relishing this moment more than anyone else possibly could. She was proud of her house, and her people. The time had come to throw the shackles off.
"And who is that?" Florian asked, running his hand through his hair. "Ryman Bracken, who focuses more on strife with the Blackwoods? Or Arthos Blackwood himself, who would prostrate himself for a Northern overlord? This Teague bastard, who has no true recollection of how he's a Teague in the first place? Or should we declare for one of our other friends, Lannister, Gardener, Durrandon, and pray that they are kinder than the Hoares?"
To his credit, Lucan Tully had the guile to remain silent. A smile passed his face, and he leaned closer to his nephew, squeezing his hand this time, and true affection shone in his eyes for the first time. "Now you're sounding like a Tully." He winked lightly. "But no, none of those names would do."
"Then who?" Florian was incredulous, glancing at his sister with a raised eyebrow like, "Can you believe this guy?"
Celia smiled a bit and gave her brother a hug. The day of freedom was quickly approaching, they just had to make it through this next wedding out alive. "His name is Tristifer Mudd. He's been doing all sorts of things to help the Riverlands, and has a plan to foil the Hoares at the wedding! He has a group of men in the northern part of the Riverlands, and has been wreaking havoc for a while. Lucan's even been with him." Celia was eager, glancing at her uncle who gave another nod.
"Name isn't everything." Florian got to his feet, and grabbed his boots in his hand. "I will not have Riverrun bleed itself dry for a man who has no castle and no lands bound to him." He stomped off towards the palace, in, what Celia thought was a rather petty manner.
"He'll come round." Celia told Lucan quietly. I hope.
Harrenhal: Meeting of the Minds
Queen Elayna Lannister had her arm looped in her husband's. That morning, she was having more pain than usual, but it was important that she get up anyway. Harrenhal's wet, rainy nature hadn't taken well with the Queen of the Westerlands, who already struggled with walking. It was a small pleasure then that the meeting she was about to have was going to happen right next to the chambers that the Lannisters were given - a meeting that her husband was worried about.
Elayna was intelligent as they come, but her first duty in her mind was to protect her family. She was a matron on all counts. That made her an interesting foil for their guest - the Queen of the Reach and notorious for ruling her husband, rather than the other way around, Melessa Gardener. Theoretically, her husband was supposed to join.
Elayna was unsurprised when they showed up, her hand locked tightly around Tybolt's arm, and instead the blonde-haired Queen of the Reach was sitting at the table. The thing that did make her surprised was that there was no one else in there. She hadn't brought her son even, or a daughter.
"King Tybolt." Queen Melessa said, a smile passing her features as she stood up. "Queen Elayna." She gave a warm hug to Elayna, and Elayna could already feel unease rising in her.
"Queen Melessa," Tybolt replied with a bit of characteristic gruffness, taking a seat across from where she had been sitting before - two chairs set up for them.
To be honest, Elayna had no idea what her husband wanted from the meeting. Whether it was just to patch over relations as best they could, try to learn about what the Reach's intentions were, solicit a marriage, or something else, she had no clue. She wasn't even sure if he knew. The better question was whether the Queen's husband even knew she was here.
"We should've met somewhere further south." Melessa said with a touch of humor, raising the goblet to her lips to take a short swallow. "That way the weather isn't so poor, and it'd be easier for you, my dear."
Elayna grit her teeth and forced a smile. Everything about her was rage-inducing for Elayna. She wasn't even the Queen, she was the King's husband. She didn't rule in her own name, and now she saw fit to suggest to her what would've been easier for her?
"That's...kind of you to say," Elayna forced the words out of her mouth before ones that she didn't want to leave.
Melessa waved her off, wearing a dress of deep green with silver thorns rising up the sides. Appropriate, Elayna thought, but kept her tongue in cheek. "I don't want to be here a minute longer than I have to. The Riverlands, they're fine, but this castle makes me want to pitch myself from the highest tower." She said lazily, pulling a basket of grapes over to herself to take one in her white-gloved hands. Long and angular, her fingers were, and the glove reached back to her wrist.
Elayna had no idea how to respond to that, so she just gave a smile and a quiet nod. She wasn't wrong about that at least, Harrenhal was a dreadful place. Dreary, and it felt like anytime you walked down the hall alone it seemed as though someone was following you. She hardly left the company of her husband or one of her children, and always had a guard about with her when she was without one of them.
"It isn't pleasant," Tybolt agreed, forgoing alcohol himself. His eyes regarded the queen with a bit of grudging respect - though relations had fallen between the realms, it had been the fault of her husband and good father than the Queen. "Then why come, all this way? The Reach has a hundred thousand swords to call its own. Surely you could've stayed home."
Melessa chuckled a bit and threw her blonde hair back. Hers was wavy where Elayna's was a bit straighter. She wondered what it was like, marrying into a family and then becoming the de facto leader of it. She hadn't ever questioned her position with where she stood with Tybolt. An ally, a friend, a wife, but not a superior. Equals.
"I think you know why we've come, which is why I think I know why you've come." Melessa leaned forward in her chair, a devious little smile on her lips that made Elayna frown. "The Rivermen are angry. They're angry at everything and everyone. Generations ago, they had kings of their own, now they're reduced to eating the shit that the Hoares serve them and thanking them for it. It's only natural after a certain period of time that the gloves come off." Melessa smiled and tugged at each finger of her glove before setting them on the table.
From there on, Elayna knew the ball was in Tybolt's court. She had her own thoughts on the matter, but Tybolt knew how to handle Melessa Rowan. The King gave her a tight smile and grabbed a grape for himself and popped it into his mouth.
"I hope you know where that leads, Melessa," Tybolt forwent her title, adopting a bit more of a personable approach. "A chance of Hoare reavers in Highgarden. Your beloved daughter taken for a salt wife, your sons' blood spilt."
"Ah," Melessa clucked, holding up a finger. "Not so fast, that's not at all how I plan on it going."
Tybolt raised an eyebrow, and spread his arms, the red Lannister color glowing a little bit in the light of the candles in the room. "Then I'm all ears."
Queen Gardener sat forward in her chair. "Years ago, before I even married my husband - foolish oaf that he is, relations between Casterly Rock and Highgarden were the warmest of any in the Seven Kingdoms. Now, that idiot, and his father let those decay beyond what I had ever thought possible. Together, we make a formidable force. The might of the West and the South, the Hoares will be smart to be worried. You have a daughter, she can marry my son. She'll be the future Queen of the Reach, and all that entails. I'll set my daughter up with one of the various Riverland lords - that cute Bracken boy would do just fine."
Elayna bit her lip and glanced to her husband. She wasn't sure what he'd say, to be honest. The queen was being more forthright than what Elayna had imagined she would be. And her daughter going to Highgarden didn't sound like the worst of things that could happen… Dantis seemed nice enough a man, and Cerelle could help him in the way Melessa probably imagined she could've helped Garth Gardener all those years ago.
"Quite a proposal," Tybolt leaned back in his chair. "One slight snag, though. You'd be holding all the cards in the end. My daughter, in Highgarden. Your daughter, on a Riverland throne."
"I thought we may hit that snag," Melessa grinned back, taking a long swallow from her wine. "It was worth the try, though, wasn't it?"
The door banged open quite theatrically after her question, and Elayna could almost feel the temperature lower in the room. King Garth had made it, after all. Elayna forced a smile onto her face, and she could see her husband was having a similar problem. What in the seven hells…
"King Garth, we were just beginning to discuss…" Tybolt attempted, but he was almost immediately cut off.
"An insult," He declared, thumbing his nose in the air and his finger was raised to the sky. His portly belly shook a little bit as he glared at them. "Meeting with my wife without telling me a thing?" King Garth Gardener declared.
Tybolt soured as he got to his feet, scowling at the man. "We sent formal notice to the Gardener quarters. You had ample time to show up, and yet you did not. So we began the meeting."
Melessa had her face in her hands, and she got up herself. "Queen Elayna, I'll help you back to your rooms." She forced a smile and slid an arm around her back. The Queen of the West at first protested, but then she relented and got to her feet.
"A pleasure to see you, King Gardener," Elayna managed.
"Always enchanted, Queen Elayna," Garth replied, alleviating her nerves that it could spiral further should she leave the room.
The two queens made their way, slowly, down the hall to where the Lannister chambers were located. Melessa took a sensitive tone as she spoke to Elayna. "Oh, I suppose that was my fault." She cast her eyes down, and they glowed a little bit with...shame? Pity filled Elayna and she rubbed Melessa's arm. "I assumed he wouldn't be interested, and so I just went by myself."
Elayna rubbed her arm. "It's okay, dear, we all make mistakes." She stopped in front of the door, and when she looked over again, Melessa was fine. Lying bitch. Elayna thought, but she had to marvel at how quickly she'd turned it on.
"Good evening," Elayna nodded at her and tossed herself into the room, and shut the door behind her. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. I wouldn't trust Melessa near my daughter, Elayna thought to herself.
Harrenhal: Reprehension
For the riverlords that had arrived in Harrenhal, they were not immediately meeting with kings, lords, and all the others that could plant them on a pathway out of the Hoare yoke. Instead, they were together, sitting in the massive hall that housed the audience that night. Food was piled high on the tables, but the feasting was not plentiful - hardly anyone touched anything they had.
On the dais, all the royal families sat one at a time. The Hoares were in the center, King Harrik leering down at everyone below was smack dab in the middle. His two sons were on either side, poor Jeyne Mooton was next to the eldest, and a petite dark-haired woman was on the side of the other one. Few in the riverland contingent recognized her, and didn't pay much mind. To the left of them were the Starks, King Alaric and his wife, along with their three children. Farther to the left of them were the Lannisters, the whole family as well.
On the right sat the Durrandons, a hefty family like the rest. Then, to the side of them was the Gardeners, one of the bigger groups in the hall. The dais was much more lively than the tables below, most riverlords sparing glances up to see the lady in black at the center of the table.
"I have half a mind to run him over with a horse," Ryman Bracken grumbled in a low voice to one of the other lords. Luckily, the ironborn had spread most of their men out to defend the entrances of the keep, and thus were light on policing the words of the riverlords.
"They're not godly," Arthos Blackwood whispered to Lord Vance when he had an opportunity, Bracken and Blackwood reasonably separated, of course. "They took that poor Mooton girl and made us watch - make her brother watch."
The dissension was enough that King Harrik was bound to notice before long. Alysanne Blackwood kept squeezing her normally mild-mannered brother's arm when he began to talk too loud. A quiet man, but he had a way to get his voice to boom when he got passionate about something.
"The Tullys aren't here." Jayda Mallister, Lady of Seagard told the Blackwood as well as Lord Frey. The fact wouldn't go unnoticed for long, she was betting.
"Pipers didn't make it either," Lord Bracken told her, running a hand through his auburn-brown hair. "Late start from Pinkmaiden and Riverrun, it would seem."
The talk, which had just been low mumbling, died when King Harrik rose to his feet. "Welcome, all to Harrenhal to celebrate the wedding of my firstborn son, and future King of the Isles and Rivers, to Lady Jeyne Mooton, the Maid of Maidenpool. The wedding will commence in four days' time, the rest of which is free for you all to enjoy the splendor of Harrenhal. There will be plenty of feasting, dancing, and dining."
"Lord Mooton didn't come," Ryman Bracken whispered to Gerald Frey when he'd noticed. Some men had always been a bit unkind to Lord Gerald, whose wife was a Fowler from Dorne. They viewed it as unnatural, and his kids even took after her to a degree.
"Lord Frey," King Harrik stepped down from the dais and looked at the table. "I was wondering if you had any idea where that slimy fish from Riverrun was, or those Pinkmaiden lot?" He slammed his mead down on the table beside him.
The hall went silent, and Lord Bracken straightened his back. "I don't know, your Grace," Lord Frey said amiably. "I am not related to Pipers, nor to Tullys."
"No, but I have heard that you let Pinkmaiden bastards and Tully scoundrels roam your lands freely." King Harrik scowled at him, and the hackles rose on every Riverman in the area.
"I do what I can, your Grace." Lord Gerald was calm, not even bothering to turn. "My first charge is the Twins. There are plenty of ironborn in the area as well, I would've suspected that if anyone could catch who you're looking for, it would be them."
King Harrik scowled and his jaw shook as he lifted his mead again. "Careful, Lord Frey." He said, and stamped his way back to the dais. He was worried, and all the riverlords could scent the blood in the water. They just needed to make it out of Harrenhal first.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading, sorry it's a day late but I had my finger pricked yesterday and it bled like no one's business. As you can tell by reading, I was amped for this chapter. The last POV wasn't necessarily a POV, but an intro into the next chapter, which is why it's a little shorter. Thank you for your reviews, I do appreciate them.