A Song of Frost & Flame

by Chimaera1201

When Robert's Rebellion broke out, the ancient friend and ally of the Starks, House Tormont offered their oldest daughter to the Lords of the Corridor for their alliance. Powerful and respected, the Taugere family kept the way north safe and at peace for thousands of years. But a less known prophecy may declare if the world will freeze over again, or burn in the fires.

11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11 – THE TOWER OF LIGHT

Milla stood on the deck of a trader's barge called Willow Horizon, a great three decked darkwood marvel of perhaps 160 feet with linings resembling the colour of faded gold and royal blue sails, the bowsprit fashioned to an old leaning willow tree. It knew the waters well, as it carried loads of spices, wines, fabrics and foods around the world. She breathed slowly, just taking in the afternoon sun and conspicuously warmer summer climate than what they were accustomed to, watching as the landscape changed from flat, to fisher's villages, to hills, to rocky climbs, to forests, to rivers and waterfalls along the coastline of their country, reflecting on events of the past weeks. Her husband's name day came and went, a beautiful day under the shine of the sun. And at their evening feast, she could finally declare to him in front of the hall of their home that she was carrying his child within her. He held her so close she could clearly feel his heartbeat against her chest... Claira had persuaded her rather enthusiastically to accompany them to Oldtown for the attendance to the wedding of lord Raeghun's youngest sister, lady Mae to lord Cladus Hightower; seeing as she had never been past The Twins the southern part of the world was a place that only existed from stories. After much discussion and the sound advice of maester Adlyn that there will be no danger to her or the child she agreed. Some days later they took the King's Road to Seagard, where lord Raeghun reserved passage by sea to Oldtown, saving them at least a week's travel by road, and leaving their horses to the care of the stable yard until their return. It was exciting, both she and Claira had never travelled this way before, they would often just watch as ships pass by across the Sunset Sea from Mount Ardor's beautiful gardens; and would wonder where they were bound as the silhouettes of sails disappeared into the last glow of sunset, and what wonderful treasures they carried. But despite their initial fear of leaving their safety to something that seemed unstable at best, they were assured that the captain of the Willow Horizon was well experienced and had seen near to forty years at sea, travelling the world and its waters since the age of ten, and his crew being equally capable, the journey turned out to be very pleasant. Their meals were not as hearty as what was served by cook Jeody, but did enough to sate the hunger, and their private cabins were not spacious but was at least comfortable, and washing was often left to only mildly warmed water. Although, she had to confess that the curious silence of her friend was worrying, she hadn't spoken much to either her husband or to Berin beyond the occasional greeting or courteous reply. She felt arms wrap around her, strong and warm, the weight of a head resting on her shoulder and the telling scent of watered grass came over her.

"Is everything al right, my sunflower?" Berin's loving voice met her, soft and soothing.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just thinking." she replied, her hands resting on his arms.

"About what?" he pressed her gently tighter.

"Everything." she breathed, still reflecting on the world.

"Have you thought of a name, yet? If it would be a son or a daughter?" he asked, his hand stroking over her stomach, the ordinary miracle that had only just started to show.

"I haven't given too much thought to the gender, but if it's a girl we'll name her Bella." she said turning around to face him, meeting his smile.

"Interesting name. How did you think of that?" he asked as her arms came around his neck.

"The beginning of your name, and the end of mine." she explained and he nodded before glancing up at a clear blue sky, thick white clouds resting only on a distant horizon.

"And if the mother graces us with a son?" he asked as he looked back at her, and she slightly leaned her head to her left side.

"That's for you to decide." she reminded him, and he seemed to put some thought into that for a moment before laying his brow against hers.

"In that case, we'll name him Berterin." he decided, and she pulled slightly back to meet his eyes.

"That's a name I haven't heard before." she mentioned, and he looked away from her again for a moment.

"It was the name of my father, former lord of Bristlemane Stronghold." he explained, and then she smiled laying her head against his shoulder.

"Then it is a good name." she breathed against him, agreeing to the name.

"I'm glad you like it." his arms grew tighter around her as his mouth pressed against her hair.

"You've never spoken of your father." she realized, and he shrugged.

"I can't say much; I never knew him. Only what I've been told by my mother. He was a good man, brave and eager; but had a quick temper. She always… She used to say that I looked exactly like him." he paused, having to correct himself, and her arms softly pulled at him.

"I'm sorry about your family, about your home." she said, but he brought his hand to her face.

"I have a family, Milla. And a home. Mount Ardor and its people are ours. A flood can hit Bristlemane, and I couldn't care. I've never been happier than where I am now, at the burning mountain with you, surrounded by kin; and our little one approaching this world..." he said smiling, gently laying his hand on her stomach again, and they shared a happy embrace.

"Speaking of kin, do you know what's been bothering Claira?" she asked as she pulled back, and his eyes went away from hers, over the blue waters.

"No. She hasn't been speaking to me, if you haven't noticed." he reminded her, and she looked to the stern where her friend still might be.

"I have noticed, that's what's worrying me. Why is she not speaking to you?" she mentioned.

"I'm not sure. She hasn't spoken to Raeghun beyond a full conversation." he mentioned, and she leaned against him.

"I've known Claira since we were little children. She's always been a happy girl, but on the odd occasion her emotions are... too strong for her. But she's never been one to anger, and if she does she forgives quickly." she recalled, hearing Berin sigh.

"I'm sure it's just a passing event." he said as they looked back at each other.

"Shouldn't you try talking to her?" she asked, and he laughed.

"And say what?" he looked away again, the edges of his face pulling in amusement.

"I don't know. Anything. This aloofness isn't normal." she urged, and then they looked towards footsteps approaching. Claira was on her way to the bow dressed in a flowing dress the colour of amber, and a light ivory centre piece and most of her hair falling unrestricted down her back from a single pin holding the strands back. The bow was where they many times spent the day watching the world as it passed by with the day. Berin cast Milla a quick glance before turning to face her.

"Good day, my lady." he greeted, then she stopped and looked at him.

"Good day, Berin." she returned.

"How are you finding your travel by ship?" he asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Pleasant, thank you. And you?" she asked, and the corners of Milla's mouth pulled slightly up in a hopeful motion.

"Good. It's longer than my last one though." he mentioned, and Claira nodded.

"It's nice to hear you're enjoying it. If you'll please pardon me." she excused herself and continued on her way to her destination, and Berin turned to Milla breathing in deeply and then letting it go in subtle defeat.

"Well, I tried." he said, and she nodded sharing the loss.

"I know you did..." she said, and his hands rested on her arms.

"Go join her. She'll come to me when she's ready." he insisted, gently rubbing her arms and she nodded in agreement, then he leaned forward to kiss her before turning to leave. She watched him move away before turning and making her way towards the bow of the ship, and found her sitting on a crate looking over the world, not giving attention to anything in particular. Falgon stood on the other side facing the approaching waves, and she moved closer.

"Good day, my lady." she greeted as she sat down next to her.

"Good day, lady Milla. The weather is being kind to us, the captain has said that we might reach Oldtown later today. I dare say that I'm quite eager to exchange the sways of a ship for solid land." she said turning to her and smiling, and Milla nodded in agreement.

"That is fine news. I too believe that our journey by water has been long enough." she said.

"How have you been feeling?" Claira enquired.

"The nausea has ended, finally. I'm just tired all the time; and I might have developed a peculiar want for berries." she mentioned, and Claira leaned over placing a hand on her knee.

"As soon as we dock, we'll find you some. There's bound to be a merchant stall somewhere." she assured, to Milla's secret delight.

"Thank you, my lady. You're too kind." she said, blushing and then Claira's gaze returned over the waters, and Milla looked at her, examining her features. She seemed calm and content, above an underlying struggle.

"Claira, are you al right?" she managed to ask, and her friend looked back at her.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why?" she seemed confused, or at least she wanted to seem that way.

"You've been acting, a bit different." she pointed out, and for that moment Claira looked away from her, shielding her eyes.

"I'm fine. Or, I will be... You have better things to worry about, than me." she turned back, again smiling and indicating Milla's only slight waist, but Milla reached out, her hand resting on Claira's elbow and feeling the chill through the fabric.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" she encouraged, and Claira nodded; thankful for the gesture.

"Yes, I know. Thank you, Milla." a sudden order of loud disturbances from the water behind them made them turn to witness a group of strange animals racing beside the ship; leaping from the surface of the water and disappearing into the waves again. Claira stood and approached the railing of the ship to see them better. She had never seen anything like these creatures before, they were great, long slender beasts in shades of blue, green and purple; with large flat tails and smaller fan-like limbs, two on each side. A long spine protruded from the creature's back, the first feature that was visible before the body broke the surface of the ocean. It had a long nose, with big eyes, and made clicking and tweeting noises as they played in the rush. They stared in awe at them,

"What on earth are those?" Claira breathed, not being able to take her eyes away from them.

"Wave Shepherds, your grace. They're a rather common sight around ships, but mostly in deeper waters." Falgon's voice came from behind them, and she turned to look at him. He had come from his post on the other side to share their view, but he didn't seem in the least surprised at the creatures; and then she looked down the length of the ship where most of the other members on board had also gathered to see the animals; and then she looked back at the shapes in the water.

"They're astonishing..." she said, taking in the bright sheen of colours, like a magical dance,

"People of the sea would tell you that they're friends. Many have been saved from drowning, by one of those Shepherds. Brought up from destroyed and sinking ships, and close enough to shore to live on and share their stories." he explained, and for some reason that made her happy. To think that even in a place as vast and forlorn as the oceans, there might be someone watching over people.

"You've spent quite a bit of time on ships..." Claira mentioned, perhaps more to herself than anyone around them, and Milla turned to Falgon.

"Oh yes, Berin mentioned you were quite a traveller." she remembered, and his eyes met hers.

"You recall my former occupation, lady Milla. Mercenaries go where they're sent, or where there is employment and gold to be had." he reminded, and she looked back at the waves.

"Yes, but you've never been one for much of the latter. I still can't think of you as a mercenary. I've always imagined them as ruthless, violent, perhaps even blood thirsty men..." she said.

"Mercenaries are people, just like anyone else. And like anyone else, you will find good and bad among them." he said, and she took that in.

"They're not hired simply to kill?" she asked,

"Not at all. Mercenary contracts consists of many things, besides bloodshed. Safe escorts for people and cargo, or the protection of specified landmarks or items being some of them. But there is one fatal flaw with hiring mercenaries." he explained,

"And what is that?" she asked as she looked back at his dark eyes.

"You can't trust them. They would discard their objective for enough coin." he said, and she nodded finding herself wanting to know more.

"If you're so different, why did you choose the life of a mercenary?" she asked, and he looked away from her; his eyes settling on Claira who still stood watching the Shepherds in the surf.

"Because, for a long time I couldn't do anything else." he said softly, and she felt a mixture of joy and sadness for him.

"I am happy that you've found something better, Falgon." she mentioned, and saw him smile.

"So am I." he agreed, and she thought of something different.

"How far have you gone?" she asked, and he lifted his head to face the horizon somewhere far off.

"Would saying that I've seen the extent of the Known World be enough, my lady?" he asked, and she turned towards him just a little bit more.

"If you wouldn't mind being a tiny bit more specific. I'm afraid my knowledge of the world isn't that complete." she teased, but having seen the many maps in her father's hold and in maester Adlyn's tower she felt confident; and he chuckled for a moment's thought, trying to bring up the places.

"I've been as far north as The Ibben, I've seen the Thousand Islands, I've spent time between Andalos, the Dothraki Sea, the Red Waste, The Great Sand Sea and the Grey Waste mostly escorting trade cargo's; once we passed the black city of Asshai from a port in Yin, sailed over the Jade Sea through the Cinnamon Straits to Faros and from there to Volantis. And I have been as far south as the coast of Sothoryos before returning here to Westeros; perhaps seven years ago." he calculated as she stared at him, her bright green eyes wide.

"Is something wrong, my lady?" he asked, and she sniggered.

"No. All those places..." she tried to imagine it, and he laughed.

"A lot can happen in a few years, we never stayed in one area for long." he said before his eyes again went to Claira who stepped back from the railing.

"They're getting close." she mentioned, still watching the shadows in the water, now only a few feet from the hull of the ship.

"Don't worry about them. They can see us better than we can see them." he eased, and then Colbert emerged coming from the stern side of the ship, formally bowing as he reached them. Like all their sentinels, he was a lean man and muscularly built, he had light gold hair and grey-blue eyes, a slightly curved nose and highly pronounced cheekbones above a narrow jaw, but his experience in the world was well set in the lines of his face. Along with Adelard and Hernaut, these three were the oldest members of their order, ranging between their forties and fifties. Raeghun had once made a proposition of allowing the sentinels to choose an age for withdrawal; from where they may return to the castle guard or live out their lives in privacy with their families; which of course they refused, true to their nature.

"My apologies for disturbing you, my ladies. Lord Raeghun has requested that they be joined for a final meal with the captain before entering the docks at Oldtown." he announced, and Claira glanced at Milla before looking back at Colbert.

"We're that close?" she asked, and he nodded.

"The captain has said so, my lady." he acknowledged, and she readied herself.

"Very well, then." she said, and then looked back at Falgon.

"You may remain here, if you wish. You seem to enjoy the bow quite a bit." she allowed, and he bowed his head.

"Thank you, your grace." then she looked at Milla.

"Will you accompany me?" she asked, and Milla nodded.

"In just a moment my lady, I'd like to issue a quick farewell to our friends the Shepherds." she said quickly, looking over the railing at the creatures; and then Claira sighed before she turned and moved away with Colbert shadowing her. Milla's attention came back to Falgon.

"Falgon, do you know what is bothering lady Claira?" she asked softly, hoping that he would be better able to clarify the situation they found themselves in, and he looked down at her.

"She has not told me anything, my lady. And I did not ask." he said, and she shook her head.

"No, of course you wouldn't have." thinking she probably should have known better she watched the black and white hair move down the length of the ship. A sudden gust of wind made the ship rock, and she lurched forward in to a strong arm, giving her some stability.

"Are you al right?" he asked, and she blushed as she found her footing.

"Yes, thank you." she looked up, the wind had blown his brown cloak over his left shoulder revealing his arm.

"I've never seen this before." she said, admiring the many intricate weaves in different colours of a leather band bound around his upper arm and he looked down, realizing he'd forgotten about it again.

"It's usually hidden under the cloak. It was a gift, for my twenty first year." he told, her eyes still tracing the complex pattern.

"It's beautiful. Who gave it to you?" she enquired, and he smiled, his dark eyes soft and nostalgic.

"Thank you. My mother. She died a year later." he said, and a bitter stab found her chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry." was all that she could manage, and his eyes went away from her.

"It's al right. It was long ago." he said, and she nodded.

"Well, I should probably join the others." she said, then excused herself and made her way to the stern.

By noon, the tallest tower in Westeros came into view with its burning crown, as the Willow Horizon turned for the Whispering Sound that surrounded it. Docking was fairly easy with calm waters, and the lords and ladies with their sentinels left the Willow to tend to its business. The captain had advised that he planned on being at port for a fortnight, allowing himself and several crew members to spend time with their families before returning to Lannisport, should they wish to return that way with them; which Raeghun gratefully accepted. They hired a small mule-cart to haul whatever belongings they brought, and true to her word Claira found a merchant amidst the banter of the docks, and bought a selection of sweet berries from him. It was a sound walk to where they could be transported to the tower itself, but they were all thankful for it; weeks confined to a single space left their limbs eager for movement. The sun set low as a sizeable ferry glided over the still water towards Battle Isle, where the awe-inspiring Hightower kept its watch over city and sea, and they docked at the castle's private white-stone port where a party of guards clad in plate armour and deep grey cloaks met them along with several castle hands. The ferry workers stepped off, securing it to the dock before Raeghun, Berin and Falgon departed and then helped the rest onto solid ground. As the chests were being unloaded a guard approached Raeghun.

"Welcome to Hightower, my lord. May I assume you are expected?" he asked politely, and Raeghun nodded.

"Yes. Please inform lady Mae Taugere that she has a guest." he said,

"Yes, my lord." and the guard turned to leave after a quick bow. Shortly after, their company followed the remaining guardsmen and castle hands up a pathway of steps to the hold, two large torches flanking the wide doorway. They stepped inside, into a vast hall with many white pillars and grand windows, a long carpet of almost black grey stretched from the great door to the other side where a single marble seat stood on a dais overlooking the hall from in front of a great banner, between two tall doors. They marvelled at the space, and then a sudden thundering series of deep loud barks made Claira jump as lord Cladus emerged with three hounds around him, one brown, one black with brown points and another with black spots on grey, but a brown head with blue eyes. She thought them enormous beasts for the instant before she saw them, feeling rather stunned that the powerful barks did not match the animals they came from. The ferocious dogs stood barely higher than the lord's calves on short legs, but seemed slightly disproportionate with long slender bodies. Big ears flapped on the sides of their heads, and big bright eyes sparkled above lengthy muzzles as they came trotting into the hall with staff tails raised high.

"My lords and ladies, welcome." he greeted them generously as the dogs moved in to investigate the guests.

"Mae will be extremely happy to see you, she's been a bit gloomy for the past few days." he shared extending a hand.

"I do hope you will enjoy your stay with us." he finished, and Raeghun smiled not paying much mind to the dogs sniffing about his boots before moving away and taking the lord's gesture.

"Thank you for your kind welcome, lord Hightower. I'm sure we will." he said, and then Cladus greeted the other guests as well while his small companions continued interrogating the fascinating new smells. The castle hands moved off with the visitors belongings to lodge them.

"Interesting guard companions you have." Berin mentioned as he looked at the dogs, moving around and between them with tails swinging.

"They may be small, my lord. But they're as gallant as the traditional mastiffs, or even your elk hounds although they don't need the wide spaces. These are badger hounds." Cladus explained, and then identified each of the dogs. The brown dog was named Woodley, the black and brown was Lace and the spotted with blue eyes was called Dapple, who now stood staring at Claira with tail wagging excitedly and eyes expectant; her own frost blue looking back. Then Dapple took a step forward, sounding off a loud bark that echoed in the hall making Claira move back with a start, and ending against her sentinel.

"Away with you!" Cladus ordered, and the dogs trotted off again, allowing Claira to breathe.

"My apologies for that, my lady. They get quite excited for new faces." Cladus apologised, and she had to laugh.

"It's quite al right, lord Cladus. They're adorable, for guard hounds." she said, and he returned the humour.

"They are, and they're good for whatever our family needs. Guards, hunters, companions, even nurses." he joked, and then expanded his attention.

"Come, I will have you accommodated; lady Mae should join us soon." he invited, and led them through one of the doors into winding halls and up stairs into the tower. They passed many great halls along the way, light coming in through each window illuminating the inside. This place was amazing and monumental, Claira thought that she'd never seen as many steps in her life. They passed into a longer corridor, the left wall nothing more than a severely long window with many arches and a high stone banister. From the other side came two guards, and a lady dressed in a soft gown of rose pink with open arms, her silver-gold hair braided over her right shoulder. She stopped for a moment, and then she started to run towards them, throwing her weight against Raeghun as she reached them and her arms went around him; but her force did nothing against his power and he stood solid. His arms circled her as he laughed,

"I thought you weren't coming." she breathed against him.

"I never said that. I said we might not make it in time." he corrected as he released her and drew back.

"Might not… But you did…" she smiled despite the sheen of tears in her bright blue eyes, and his hand moved to wipe them away.

"I had to. Whom else would present you to your husband?" he said, and she hugged him close again before composing herself to greet the other guests. Cladus turned his attention to the guards.

"Please show lord Raeghun's sentinels where they may be accommodated." he issued, and they returned a quick bow of their heads before herding them off down the corridor while Raeghun, Berin, Claira and Milla followed Cladus and Mae higher into the great tower. They were presented rooms in the private quarters where young lord Hightower opened a door to a lavish apartment with a wide arched window overlooking the coast, a comfortable bed under orange silks took up part of the room while a dresser stood to the opposite wall with a carpet of lavender purple and black design spread the expanse of the stone floor between the bed and the dresser, a small round table holding a pitcher with spring water, two silver goblets and a small basket with fruit; alongside two chairs waited in the corner.

"I hope you will be comfortable here, lord and lady Trentin." Cladus said, indicating the space and Berin smiled extending his hand.

"Thank you, lord Cladus. The chamber is beautiful, I'm sure we will be." he said,

"Your effects will be delivered here momentarily." Cladus further advised, and then turned to Raeghun and Claira.

"Lord and lady Taugere, if you will please. Your apartment is this way." he led them further, up another set of steps to a different room and opened the door. It was just as marvellous as the previous one, a fleecy pillowed couch stood next to the wall under a wall torch and a low table holding a basket of flowers, with yet another pitcher of water and two goblets stood before it on a carpet of wine red and gold detailing. A wardrobe stood against the adjacent wall with a polished mirror next to it while two raised steps led into an additional space housing a broad bed under gold silks, a long window opened to the horizon of blue against blue; and a door set in the wall before the bed opened to a small balcony with a small table and two chairs, a single stone planter holding a small yellow flowered shrub.

"I hope this will meet your requirements, my lord and lady." Cladus said as they stepped through the door and took in the grand surroundings.

"It's luxurious. Thank you." Raeghun returned as he looked back at him.

"I will have handmaidens from our own hold temporarily assigned to your wives to see to their care, for the extent of your visit here. There is a bath chamber for your use to the left, following first stairway into the private quarters. We will leave you to settle in, and this evening we will feast together. My father should be returning today from Honeyholt." Cladus said and Mae stepped forward, taking Claira's hands.

"If you need anything, all you need is to ask." she said smiling, and Claira gently squeezed her hands.

"Thank you, dear Mae." she smiled back at her sister, happy that they shared such a close relationship.

"Well, we look forward to this evening's feast." she finished, and then turned to join her betrothed back down the hallways. Raeghun breathed in deeply, and then stepped closer to Claira.

"Is our chamber to your liking, my lady?" he asked softly, his warm breath settling on her shoulder.

"It's lovely." she returned, not facing him.

"Shall I escort you to the bath chamber?" she shook her head lightly.

"I should be able to find it on my own, thank you." Raeghun looked down at the stone beneath his feet, momentarily reflecting on how lonely he felt. Not the kind of loneliness attributed to solitude, a deficiency of life around you; but an isolation that only the heart could know. He mentally argued with himself on multiple occasions to simply take her in his arms, to seize her mouth with his, to spill his suppressed blaze onto her ice, but each time decided against it, and allow her time to find herself again and return to him when she was ready to do so, and he would wait. Even if it took her five years, he would wait.

"Very well. Will you please pardon me, my lady?" she turned towards him slightly.

"Of course, my lord." he turned and left the chamber as she stood, feeling quite the same way he did. A young girl stepped into the doorway, light brown locks hanging over her shoulders, clear brown eyes and dressed in a soft gown of jade.

"Good day, my lady. I am called Lorete. I've been sent by lord Cladus Hightower to assist you in any way you are in need of." she announced, and Claira nodded.

"Actually, if you would not mind it too much; I would enjoy a short tour of the tower before enjoying a bath for this evening's feast." she suggested, turning to the girl who smiled broadly.

"Of course, my lady. Might I suggest a quick visit to the crown of the tower? Some have sworn you can see the wall from there." she said as Claira approached her.

"That sounds wonderful." Claira agreed.

Raeghun and Berin walked down the long hallway that was the long open span, leaving their wives to prepare themselves for the evening banquet as the sun touched the rim of the world.

"Are you al right, Raeghun?" Berin asked as they walked, breaking his friend's silence.

"I'm fine. It's warmer here than I thought it would be." he said mildly, and then Berin stopped looking at him.

"That's good, but not exactly what I meant." Berin said, and Raeghun sighed.

"I will confess that that my union has been left... devoid, so to speak." he breathed dourly.

"No change?" Raeghun shook his head.

"Not yet. I hope she'll come to understand..." he said softly, and Berin put a hand to his shoulder.

"I'm sure she will. This won't last. Your wife loves you." he assured, and Raeghun returned little more than a hopeful nod.

"She hasn't been speaking with you that much, either." he mentioned as they resumed their walk down the hallway, and Berin shrugged.

"No, she hasn't. And Milla has noticed. But although she's angered with us, I am thankful that she has remained at least tender-hearted." he said, but Raeghun's stare remained before him.

"It's been near to a month, Berin. I didn't think she had this kind of endurance." he tried making a joke of it, but it was a bitter statement.

"My Milla has mentioned that Claira isn't the like to stay mad. But we might have been a bit impulsive." Raeghun's clear eyes met his.

"I don't regret anything. We protected her honour. The honour and promise of our house. I might reflect on the lesser actions of an intoxicated man, but he wasn't drunk. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was fully intent on concluding his actions. And then he further insulted my people by denying it... and Falgon stood there taking it." he recalled, and Berin glanced at the horizon before they passed into the shadow of the tower.

"He was trying to avoid more conflict. Despite his allegiance to your house, and especially to lady Claira, if there are ways of resolving matters without drawing a sword he would rather resort to that. He's a great warrior, as having been trained specifically for warfare as far as I could gather; but he's an irenic man." Berin calculated, hearing Raeghun scoff.

"Unlike us, I take it." he sounded resentful.

"We may be many things, Raeghun. But murderers aren't among them. Charle accepted my challenge willingly, and even made me promise not to bury him so his people may find him. He fought well, but I don't think he was truly trying in the end." Berin said, and Raeghun stopped, debating in a moment of silence.

"I apologise that I asked it of you." he said softly, and Berin turned back to him smiling.

"Mount Ardor is my home, as it is yours. You're my lord, and my brother. Claira is your wife, that makes her my lady, and my sister. It is our duty to protect our house, and all of its people; even more so our ladies. They are our future, and the embodiment of our honour. And just like you, I will do whatever it takes to preserve it." he declared, bringing Raeghun's eyes to his with a grateful draw to his mouth.

"I could never have asked for better family, than what I've been given." he breathed, and they moved forward again.

"I could ask Falgon to discuss it with her again, as he is aware of the circumstances. She might listen to him." Berin suggested, but Raeghun chuckled.

"No, give her time. As much as she needs." he finally insisted as they made their way through the hall. They met Cladus further down in the hall, with his pack following him; from where they accompanied him to their hall to meet his father and mother whom had just returned from their endeavour. Lord Baelor Hightower met them wholeheartedly, leaving no question as to why he was appropriately named Baelor "Brightsmile". While awaiting the banquet, they settled in the white marble hall, conversing on the vast differences between their homes and the city under the Hightower's charge over a chalice of chilled white wine; and they shared eagerly. Oldtown was a beautiful city, the largest next to King's Landing. It housed many prestigious monuments including several septs, and the famous seat of the maesters, the Citadel, and lord Hightower briefly mentioned that Mount Ardor's own maester was rather celebrated for his talents. Raeghun confirmed that their maester Adlyn 'the healer' had no less than seven links of silver to his chain, apart from iron, black iron, copper, yellow gold, and a single valyrian steel link. However, he hadn't shared much of his life before starting his studies aged ten and two, apart from that he was born in Flea Bottom to an ailing mother, and a more often than not drunk father. But despite his origin and his circumstances, he was bright of mind and inspired to improve himself and whatever else he could with it. A good while later, a serving girl entered stating that the feast stood ready for their attendance, and they assembled to enjoy it. Mae joined their company first, dressed in flowing green; and then Milla, dressed in elegant blue with open shoulders and gold hemlines, and Claira followed in cream white with a glinting gold and pearl pin centred on her chest binding the low shoulders. They were bestowed seats of honour, to the right of their hosts. The tables were set with polished porcelain and silver, and they were presented with seared haddock, spiced potato, creamed spinach and steamed carrots along with sweet wine. The evening was pleasant, and they could enjoy fine conversation over their meal. Baelor shared with them over their feast, that Raeghun's sister Mae was a wonderful blessing to their family, and he had every faith that she would continue to help them 'Light the Way' for one another, and for their people, and that they looked forward to the union of their houses. Late into the night, with the feast ended and the hall cleared, they returned to their chambers. While the lords shared their final evening greetings, Claira redressed in the lightest garment she managed to find for their stay, and lay herself down on the couch as she thought back on their day. The air was still warm despite the deep of night, but she felt at least comfortable. Spending weeks on a ship through rocking water still had her sensing the sways of the waves, and it seemed that the couch was rolling, still lulling her to sleep as the world slowly started to disappear. Somewhere between the rush of the ocean she heard a door opening and closing softly, and gentle words to her ear: Good night, my lady. And her lips moved in return: Sleep well, my lord...

Falgon moved about the grounds of Battle Isle; having not asked formal permission to enter the library he decided against it to rather spend the night in the ocean air. The expanse around the great tower was not at all vast, consisting of only several walkways up and down stairways between small trees and shrubs; but he found it fitting enough to at least imagine the resemblance of a garden. He stopped on a flat surface overlooking the blue west horizon of the world, dark clouds and the rumble of thunder signalling the approach of a storm and the erratic winds bringing it swept the space around him. He watched shadows move across the calm of the night sea, occasionally lit by the light of flashes through the sky as he breathed out slowly. His queen was unhappy, and he so wished he could see her smile again. Not the mask that she donned so often since their return to Mount Ardor, but her real smile. The one that glowed. He looked down, recognising the stir of small waves against the stone of the island, knowing that there was nothing he could do for her. There was nothing to do, but trust that she would soften again. No winter ever lasted forever, and even the deepest mound of ice melted away eventually in the heat of the sun. Two sets of footsteps drew his attention and he looked back to see two young guards come up the stairs onto the flat expanse, and they smiled when they noticed him.

"Well, lord Taugere's Sentinel of Flame. What are you doing out here?" one asked as they approached him.

"I can't sleep. I thought I'd enjoy some time outside before returning to the guard's keep." he replied as he turned to face them, they were both smiling broadly. The Hightower guards were friendly, but perhaps a bit overzealous.

"How are you finding the Hightower, ser?" the other enquired.

"It's marvellous. But I'm no 'ser'." he corrected them.

"Oh, sorry. Your lady is very pretty." one complimented, and Falgon smiled.

"She is beautiful. Everything about her. Lord Raeghun Taugere had a truly unfathomable fortune to receive her as his wife." he agreed, and the guards glanced at each other.

"A beautiful wife, and a beautiful sister. Such fortune." one of the guards reflected.

"Theirs was an arranged marriage, wasn't it?" the other enquired.

"It was, as I understand. But a love truer than theirs is almost unfairly hard to find." he mentioned softly, reflecting on something once similar.

"Would you kindly excuse me, sers? I believe it time to surrender to the night, and I should not keep you from your duties." Falgon said, then bowed his head and moved off back to the keep; knowing that what waited for him was yet another evening of making out shapes and faces against the ceiling of a chamber while listening to the hum of falling rain, and old memories.

Claira was standing on the bow of the ship again, feeling the sways of the water and the soft spray on her skin. It was a clear day, and the Shepherds were once again racing along the side of the ship, the shine off their bodies like pearl in the light; and she thought of their freedom. To go where they pleased, to explore the extent of the unknown depths. She breathed in, taking in the salty air that surrounded her, the wind on her skin and the shine of the sun on her. Then the sensation of a warm hand moved down her arm gently, and that world faded away into darkness and her eyes slowly opened to see Raeghun kneeling beside her, and the sound of pouring rain outside.

"Claira, will you come to bed, please?" he asked softly, and she stirred slightly.

"Why?" he scoffed, and then laughed lightly.

"You're insisting on reasons? Al right: You're my wife, you belong by my side. It's too warm for me to sleep alone, I need the cool of your skin… And I miss having you in my arms." he gave his reasons, all quite justified; and she sighed.

"Raeghun…" She started, but didn't know how to continue.

"Please. I won't touch you, I swear." he urged, and she smothered a sob. Please do! Please take me, hold me in your arms. Please kiss me the way you used to... Make me melt for you again...

"Al right." she agreed, and drowsily raised herself from the seat while he waited patiently to escort her to the bed. A flash of silver light brightened the room for a moment as she lay down on the sheets, resting her head on the pillows; finding it infinitely more comfortable than the divan, the soft mattress forming to the shape of her body; taking her in almost completely like the water of the seas. And then she felt the pressure of her husband's body resting on the bed beside her, as promised he did not take her in his arms but simply lay against her to feel the chill of her skin; and they both once again succumbed to sleep for several hours before she woke again to a still grey and clouded horizon, the outright rain from earlier diminished to a soft drizzle. She wiped at a tear staining her nose. She could feel him against her, his warmth, his strength… Despite her denying him, he never grew frustrated or angry with her, never tried to force himself, never even ridiculed her, and the stretch of emptiness grew. But she had to confess that she did long for him, for his touch. They had shared little more than a fleeting discussion for near to a month. Perhaps it was time to forgive, both of them. Remaining angry won't change what happened, it only added to the unhappiness of her family. She turned around to face him, finding him seemingly still asleep, and wondered what to do before finally placing her hand to his shoulder feeling him stir. She thought of pressing her lips against his, but that might be too forceful, too sudden. Her fingers slid down to his chest, and even in the dark she could notice his eyes open.

"What's wrong?" and she breathed out slowly.

"I can't sleep..." she muttered, suffocating her emotions; but he gently lay his hand on hers, still against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Claira." he said softly, taken aback she stared at him.

"For what?" she finally managed.

"That you're mad at us." he said, and her eyes went to the silk below her.

"I'm not mad. Not really. Not as much as I am disappointed." she amended him, and heard him sigh.

"I know I haven't been there for you like I should have been. I haven't been a good husband to you like I should have been. Hells, I haven't been much good of anything the last month." he chastised himself, and she raised herself on her elbow looking at him.

"My Raeghun, you're a wonderful man. And the best husband. I just think you make rash decisions." she said, his blue eyes remaining on her.

"Some decisions may be rash, but my decision wasn't wrong. What was done, was to protect you and our house." he said, and her eyes closed for a moment.

"You had Berin kill Charle in the woods." she reminded him, and he smiled slightly.

"Berin is a soldier, not an assassin. He challenged Charle to a duel, like any honourable man would; and he accepted." he told, and a frigid wave struck her. Everything she had thought was wrong, every scenario she brought up severely false as she imagined Berin's sword bursting from his chest, or a dagger pulled across the tender skin of his throat.

"But... But I thought..." she started, and then he sat up to face her.

"Is that really how you see me? How you see him? As cold-blooded killers?" he asked, and she looked away from him.

"No... I just..." she hated herself, hated herself for thinking such cruel things of her family.

"You are mine. You're my wife, the lady of Mount Ardor and nothing less. No less may be expected from anyone to protect you and our honour." he said, taking her hand in his as she breathed out.

"I am yours... but you kept to yourself..." she said softly as he ran a finger softly up the length of her ring finger to her wrist, leaving a warmth she yearned for.

"There may be times when you don't believe this, but I respect you. I respect your wishes and your feelings. Yes, you are mine; but I don't own you. You're not a slave, or a sheep or a coin. You are my lady." he said, and then his hand came to her face, gentle on her cheek.

"Claira, may I kiss you?" she was surprised at his question.

"Why are you asking me that?" although it was an irrelevant question, he deemed it valid.

"Because you deserve to give me your answer." he said as his fingers slowly glided over her skin to her thick hair, and she glanced away.

"I don't want you to kiss me." she said, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"Al right." he moved away from her, stood and while folding a cloth around his waist disappeared through the door to their small private balcony, the heat of his hand leaving her cheek slowly before she stood and followed him outside. She found him looking over the rim of the world, his hands resting on the stone railing bordering the outside area; and she admired him once again. The soft sheen the subtle torch lights cast on the contours of his blatantly outlined muscles in the slight rain, and the obvious blemishes that were once deep wounds. She was his... And this man with a heart richer than any goldmine in the world was hers. She breathed in, expanding her lungs before releasing the air slowly and moved forward into the gentle drizzle to stand behind him, then her right hand gently lay on his shoulder while the fingers of her left moved slowly up his spine and she felt him shudder to her cold touch.

"I don't want you to kiss me..." she said softly, regaining control of herself.

"And I won't." he replied, and then her hands slid around his sides to wrap around his stomach, and her cheek rested against the heat of his back.

"I want you to make love to me." she felt him tense momentarily, and then he turned to face her, his left hand wrapping around her waist to pull her closer and his right settling on her cheek while hers still circled him.

"Are you sure about that? You've been starving me." he teased with a small smile, her hand came back from him and gently lay on his, pressing his palm against her face.

"Do you want me to persuade you, that badly?" she teased back, and he leaned back slightly against the railing.

"I might need some motivation." he said, and she smiled moving forward.

"Motivation?" she whispered as her hands slid down the length of his stomach to rest on his thighs, where she could feel his power. He breathed in deeply, trying to suppress the fire in his blood.

"A good reason to give in." he continued to tease, attempting to ignore her right hand sliding into the fabric around his waist.

"I could do that." she breathed against his neck as she took hold of him, forcing a rush of air into his chest as she slipped the garment from his waist and lowered herself against him while her lips moved softly down his chest and abdomen until she took him into her mouth, bringing a subtle groan from him. His weight rested against the balustrade, the sensation of vertigo overwhelming him as he felt her gentle motion and soft pressure, his hand going into her hair. Unexpectedly, the pressure slightly increased, shattering the chains of his restraint. He brought her up, gently guiding her head back so his mouth could find hers, sweet and soft and frigid and burning in the touch so long withheld. His free hand slid the light robe from her shoulders and then he moved forward to rest her against the wall of the tower, the soft rain adhering to their bare skin as he continued to kiss her, feeding his flames with her frost. Her arms wound around his neck as his hands took hold of her legs and lifted her from the stone floor, bringing her knees past his hips and positioning her above him, and then he slowly let her down over him, hearing her softly whimper as his extent pressed deep into her, the blaze more intoxicating than ever. He found her mouth again with his, his tongue moving in between her lips to stifle her cries and take in all of her, he moved while his hands held her; her weight supported from her arms tightening around his powerful shoulders. A flash of light overhead, followed by the grumble of thunder brought his thoughts briefly back to where they were, and he decided to exchange the harsh elements of stone and rain for the softness of the bed where he lay her down and further satiated his hunger on her enveloping taste. His lips went softly down her neck, bringing tiny prickles to her skin; and then further to the tender tip of her right breast where he softly took the mound into his mouth applying gentle pressure. He heard her gasp as her back arched, her fingers pressing into the flesh of his neck, completely taken by his touch. Then he released her, tracing a warm trail across her chest with his tongue and mirroring his actions on her left side, again summoning a slight moan from her chest before his lips returned to hers and he entered her again, releasing all that had built up inside of him for several weeks, emitting soft sounds of pleasure against her throat and cheek, and then finally his seed as she smothered a contented wail into the skin of his burning shoulder, under the dim of a hazed sunrise.

Berin raised himself from a steaming bath before proceeding to dry himself, vapour still passing off from his skin. He dressed in boots over light breeches, a short sleeved cotton tunic and a red jerkin before fastening his belt with Bristlemane Blade at his right side to his waist, and his red and blue cloak to his shoulders. He held the sentinel pin in his hand for a moment, staring at it. As the head of the Sentinels of Flame, his was the only pin that had a single small but glistening ruby set at the base of the flame, and he could think of no higher formal honour. He smiled for the memories before fastening it to its place above his heart and departed the bath chamber, leaving the door open for the following user. Footsteps drew his attention, and he looked down the hall to see his lord approaching, a selection of garments in his left hand and his lady clothed in the same light cream dress from the previous evening, smiling with her hands around his arm. He turned to face them, issuing a formal bow.

"Good morning, my lord and lady. I hope the rain did not keep you from sleep." he greeted them, seeing his friend smile.

"Good morning, Berin. Not the rain, luckily." Raeghun said happily, drawing a slight flush to Claira's cheeks and Berin shared the notion.

"Then that is good." he agreed, and Raeghuns' eyes met his.

"And yours? How is your dear wife feeling this morning?" he enquired.

"Good, she has already left for the hall a little earlier." he said, and Raeghun glanced at Claira.

"I am happy to hear. I will join you in the hall after cleansing myself." then he turned, and gently placed his lips to hers before disappearing into the chamber and softly closing the door; her eyes came to his clearly.

"I am happy to see that you are feeling better, my lady." he said, and she nodded.

"Much better, thank you Berin." he waited, expecting her to excuse herself again quickly, but was surprised at her request.

"Will you walk with me?" after a moment of daze, he agreed and they started further down the hall towards the wide doorway separating the private chambers from the rest of the tower just as Lorete closed the door behind her and rushed towards them.

"My apologies for being late, my lady. My daughter didn't want to let go of me this morning, and I'm afraid she's a bit feverish." she explained out of breath, and Claira smiled warmly at her.

"Poor little thing. How old is she?" she asked, and Lorete calmed her breaths.

"She is aged two, my lady." she said.

"You may tend to our chamber, and then return to your daughter for the rest of the day." Claira said, stunning the girl.

"But my lady..." she started.

"I am quite capable, Lorete. Your daughter needs you more." she allowed, making the girl's eyes gleam.

"Thank you so much, my lady." she said, and then passed to take care of her chores. Berin smiled, watching her move away. Still as free-hearted as always... Then he turned back to her, raising his hand.

"Shall we, my lady?" he asked, and together they moved forward passing into the next hallway and down the halls.

"I am sorry, Berin. Will you please forgive me?" she suddenly said as they descended a stairway, and he glanced at her.

"For what, my lady?" he asked, and at the bottom of the stairway she stopped looking at him, bringing him to a halt.

"For my behaviour. I have been unkind to you, and it was unjust." she said, and he smiled.

"No. You haven't been unkind. You've been quiet, but not unkind." he corrected her, and they continued down the hallway.

"Still. It was hardly anywhere near acceptable. Will you forgive me?" she asked again, and he laughed taking her cold hand in his as they walked.

"You haven't done anything that needs forgiveness, Claira. You were angry, and hurt; it was you who needed your time to forgive us." he said, bringing her fingers to his mouth briefly before releasing her.

"I knew why. I did. What he did was disrespectful, and not just to me. But what I imagined..." she trailed off, and he nodded.

"He was your friend. I gave him an opportunity to defend himself, as is required for the houses of nobility." he said, and she stopped for a moment looking out to the horizon through a window, registering the still falling rain.

"Did he do so well?" she asked softly, and he nodded.

"He did, my lady." he assured, and then her eyes came back to him.

"Then there is nothing left for me to feel guilt on..." he suddenly understood, and turned to her.

"Claira, there is nothing you should feel guilty for, ever. You didn't go out with the slightest bit of ill intent, you didn't even know he was there. What happened was a decision he made, not you." he said, but she looked down, away from him.

"If I hadn't gone in the first place..." he stepped closer, taking her hands in his once again.

"What happened, wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself for other people's mistakes. As our lady, we will protect you, your honour, your virtue, everything you are, everything you represent. But you have to protect your heart, for it is your gentle heart that everyone will take advantage of if they're given the chance." he told, softly squeezing her fingers, and her eyes came to their hands.

"I'm not as strong as you." she whispered, fighting against another well of emotions.

"You are stronger. You just need to realize it, lady Taugere." he said smiling, and bringing her hands to his mouth again, and making her smile gratefully.

"Thank you, Berin." she breathed, and he straightened.

"Any time, Claira." he replied, and accompanied her further down to the hall to meet with the rest of the hold, assembling to enjoy their morning meal. Milla seemed very pleased to see her husband entering the hall alongside her best friend, sharing a more substantive conversation than what she had allowed him in almost a month. They settled in while serving girls supplied the tables with tea and pressed fruit extracts while they waited for the castle's kitchen master to announce the morning's serving. Raeghun joined them then, taking his place next to his wife clothed in light breeches, fine boots, a white shirt and leather doublet; and the families conversed again on fine topics. Given the state of the weather, they decided to remain within the hold; but were assured that the storm should have passed over by nightfall and that the following day was expected to be clear. They broke their fast on fresh bread, smoked sausages, fish cakes, honeyed porridge and sugared fruit pieces before departing to meet their day, and more family members arrived at the great tower. Berin asked Falgon to accompany him for a walk along the pathways around the tower, leaving the binding families to continue their activities. The sky was still clouded, but the rain had subsided as they walked up and down the routes, and shared their own thoughts.

"It is good that you, and her grace has made amends." Falgon said as he looked at Berin.

"Yes, that is a relief. I must say it was quite sudden, but I am happy that it has finally ended." he breathed.

"How is your lady faring?" Falgon enquired, and Berin laughed.

"She is well. She's had no abrupt qualms for a while now, and I think she's grateful for that." he said as they walked.

"It is an elating time. Your family grows substantially." his friend said with a smile.

"If it keeps going on like this, the extent of the continent will be family." Berin joked, and Falgon shared the humour.

"Another reason for excitement." he added, and Berin stopped on the flat expanse overlooking the waters.

"I keep imagining what he or she will look like. Will he have my eyes? Will she have her mother's hair? Will he have my nose? Will she have her mother's lips?" he wondered, bringing the visions in and out of his mind.

"You will know soon, my friend." A hand found his shoulder, and they continued down the path.

"Once, I couldn't imagine myself as a father; but now I can't wait." he expressed, the smile not leaving his face.

"You'll be a good father, Berin." Falgon encouraged him further, and then he looked up meeting the dark eyes.

"Have you ever thought about it?" he asked, leaving an instant of surprise.

"About what?" he asked, and Berin turned towards him.

"About being a father, Falgon." he clarified, and the stern face went away from his.

"I have, once. Had things turned out differently for me, I'd like to imagine that I might have been a fair father, at best." he reflected and they headed further down.

"For all your skill, you're a modest man." Berin teased.

"You can't compare a sword to everything, it's not the same." Falgon retaliated; and Berin sighed.

"Well, for whatever it's worth to you, I believe you would have been a wonderful father." he said, and Falgon laughed.

"To six children, strong sons and beautiful daughters." he added, and they shared a laugh.

"You never told me why you left your home, though." Berin pried slightly again, and Falgon glanced at him.

"I did. I told you that I left, because I had to." he answered, rather solidly.

"You still don't trust me?" Berin asked, and Falgon stopped; his gaze lost on the horizon.

"I do trust you. I trust you with my future, but my past is no longer important." he said, and Berin felt a stab of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Falgon. I won't ask again. If you believe that I must know something, I trust you will tell me on your own time." he said, and the dark eyes came back to him again with a gentle smile.

"It's al right. Like I said, it's not important. I've found a place I may call a home again." he said, and resumed their way forward.

"Yes. Yes, you have." Berin agreed, a strip of clear sky emerging between the clouds and the horizon.

By late afternoon Claira and Milla accompanied Mae to her private chamber high in the tower, as she spoke happily of her enthusiasm. She told them of her expectations for the hall, for the entertainment, for the feast, and told them about her dress that had been specially made by a contractor from Qarth. They entered into a spacious room with wide arched windows that stood open to the world, allowing the moist breeze to filter through. A large bed stood against the wall, drapings of gold and white hanging from the canopy flanked by end tables holding vases with bright flowers and a silver pitcher alongside two glass goblets, and a dresser next to a tall wardrobe stood along the opposite wall. A carpet of green and silver covered the stone floor, and a small hearth set dormant on the inside wall.

"Have you decided on your attire for the occasion?" Mae asked as they sat down on the wide divan facing the windows.

"We have brought something that we believe would be fitting, my lady." Milla said, glancing at Claira.

"Long or short sleeved?" she asked as a serving girl entered with a tray holding fresh fruit, setting it down on the low table in front of them.

"Long, but the shoulders are open at least." Claira said as they each seized a sweetness.

"Light fabric?" Mae asked, bringing a grape to her lips.

"Medium, but it should be fine." Milla said, thinking that lady Mae had conformed well to the deep summer weather, compared to theirs which was normally ranged between the stages of early winter to late spring.

"It's much too warm, you'll both faint from heat exhaustion before we get back from the sept." Mae mentioned, fully aware of the vast differences.

"We'll make due, Mae. Don't worry." Claira assured, smiling.

"I want you to enjoy tomorrow with me, not to think about how uncomfortable and burdened you feel…" she said softly, her blue eyes going to the silver on the table; and then her face lit up and she looked at them.

"Wait, I have something for you." She said standing and going to her wardrobe. Claira and Milla glanced at one another again, sharing confusion then stood to follow as Mae rummaged through the accumulated soft colours. Then she pulled a long gown in glimmering shades of green with gold details, and presented it to Milla, who took it gingerly in her hands, feeling the soft cool fabric.

"I believe that green is your suited colour, lady Milla." She said, and then turned back to her wardrobe and continuing her search. Milla opened the dress, marvelling at its beauty. Layers of light chiffon ranging from lime to jade green fell to the floor, a golden band accentuating a delicate waist and gold spheres decorating the shoulder leashes. Another stretch of fabric hung down the back from the golden spheres, three gold circlets on each side of the emerald green cloth to hold it to one's arms.

"And this one is for you." Mae said, turning with another soft dress of light blue and presenting it to Claira, who took it smiling before examining the dress. The same cool chiffon in light blue fell to the floor, the bodice and most of the centre beset with glittering rhinestones; decorated leather belts crossed the front of the dress, and light fabric hung from folded shoulder straps with two rich copper rings attached to the ends.

"Thank you, Mae. They're beautiful…" she said softly, and Mae smiled happily.

"It's my pleasure. I can't wear them anyway, they're too long. I keep stepping on the seams. Please consider them for tomorrow." She pleaded, and Milla smiled.

"We will consider them." she promised. They spent the rest of the day there, sharing their hopes and dreams and expectations before enjoying a warm bath and joining the rest of the hold for their evening feast and retiring to bed.

The sun rose into a beautiful clear blue sky, the day as warm as predicted; and as was custom in the Reach, family and guests met for the wedding breakfast. But whilst Mae did not have a great number of family attending, the Hightower ladies joined them in the lady's ballroom to break their fast while the lords assembled in the great feast hall. It was a wonderful occasion, and the visitors presented the bride with gifts of dresses, perfumed oils, jewellery, and all manner of finery along with feminine wisdom while a girl filled the space with beautiful songs of the Mother, and the Maiden. Before noon, the hold started its preparations for the wedding feast while the inhabitants and visitors made ready for their departure to the sept for the ceremony. The Hightowers left Battle Isle first, on their way to the sept to ensure everything was in order while the Taugere's and their people would meet them there. Claira and Milla accompanied their hosts as far as the great doorway from where their husbands would escort them the rest of the way to the small private port while they prepared themselves. They started back to cleanse and redress when a lean copper skinned woman emerged from one of the tall doors, dark red hair cut short. Claira paused staring at her, before she smiled and bowed low.

"Beautiful girl; sweet, gentle girl." she greeted, bringing a warm smile to the lady's face.

"Kyra?" she could scarcely believe it.

"I did not think to see you again, child." she said as she straightened, and Milla looked somewhat lost.

"You know her?" she asked softly, and Claira laughed.

"Yes. This is the woman that made my wedding dress for me." Claira explained, and Milla's face lit up.

"Oh yes, I remember now." she thought back, remembering the beautiful dress that represented one of the great houses of the north, and how marvellous her friend looked wearing it.

"The creation of extraordinary garments is one of my greatest pleasures. To add a dream to my ladies' special glow on these unequalled days." Kyra said proudly, and they knew it to be true.

"Where are you heading from here?" Claira asked, and Kyra thought for a moment.

"My road takes me to Highgarden, and from there to King's Landing before returning to Pentos." she said, and Claira nodded.

"We wish you safe travels, Kyra. And thank you for your beautiful gifts, and your special talent." she said, and Kyra bowed again.

"Thank you, my lady. Never again will I have a bride that quite resembles the way you looked three years ago." she praised and then left to begin her journey into the world while Claira and Milla returned to the private chambers to bathe and redress and close to an hour passed. Raeghun, dressed formally in leather and the colours of his house, with the black cloak hanging from his shoulders and the phoenix pin above his heart waited with the sentinels in the great marble hall in front of the throne for their wives to join them, discussing the oncoming events when someone caught Berin's attention and he looked up to see a decorous woman emerge from the doors, followed by a handmaiden. Her hair was woven and swirled against her head, small gleaming grapes hung from her ears framing her neck around which hung threads of gold and pearl, while a dress of glimmering green hugged her bodice, then flowed around her body from a golden belt around her waist. Three rings of gold circled her arms, and a short covering of emerald green shielded her open back, but long enough so she was able to fold it and drape the fabric over her unprotected arms. He breathed out as she reached him, and he took her hand.

"You look amazing." he said softly, and leaned forward to kiss his Milla.

"I feel a little uncomfortable, it's much lighter than what we brought." she said when he drew back,

"There's nothing wrong with it, I wish you would dress like this more often." and then her face lit up.

"You should see lady Mae, she's glowing." she mentioned excitedly, and then their attention went back to the doorway where someone was standing, a subtle argument only barely audible.

"Your lady is feeling a bit anxious, sire." Falgon mentioned, being the first able to see her clearly. Raeghun moved forward, finding her standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and Lorete standing at her side. The soft blue fit tightly to her body and the rhinestones glittered in the sunlight, the decorated belts accentuating her figure as they crossed over the front from their hold around her breasts to her hips, the dress only releasing her contours from around her thighs into the wider seam and a short train. The rich copper rings adorned her upper arms while the soft blue fabric hung in loops from her shoulders and the circlets, leaving her back completely open. Her hair was done up and held in place by her jewelled pin, several stray strands framing her face and neck, while blue gems in gold further enriched her throat and ears. She looked up, suddenly startled at his presence.

"My lord, would you please be so kind as to express to your lady how beautiful she looks?" Lorete encouraged with a tender smile.

"I'm not used to this…." Claira breathed softly.

"You look wonderful, my lady." he complimented with a smile, bringing his hand to her face.

"I feel bare, I feel exposed…" her arms tightened over her chest, and he examined her.

"Come here." she took a tentative step forward as his eyes went over her, and then he glanced at Lorete.

"Lorete, do you suppose you could try something different with my wife's lovely hair?" he asked, and she moved forward carefully taking the pin from her and letting the hair fall naturally down her back. He softly took her arms from her chest, and draped long strands over her shoulders and chest to shield her while Lorete restyled the long strands, leaving a layer free to cover her open back before refitting the jewelled pin to her hair; and he studied her again.

"There." he smiled as he corrected a stray strand over her chest and she blushed.

"Thank you, Raeghun." his hands went softly to her face.

"You're beautiful, my Claira. Let them see who is mine." he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, and she smiled, feeling more confident than before then he led her to the group waiting for the bride to join them. Moments later, two handmaidens emerged and she appeared, not just glowing but shining as bright as the sun in a wide gown of sparkling pearl silk, glistening gold threading spread in complex patterns across the bodice and a long train flowing from soft shoulder guards above open arms and a luminous diamond set in a delicate gold pendant hanging around her neck. Her silver-gold hair hung loosely down her back from a swirl of braids against the nape of her neck, and the group received her happily, all giving their compliments, from the customary statements on her unequalled beauty and fond wishes, to their tallest sentinel's more foreign comparison to a spring sunrise. Raeghun stood in front of his sister.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and she smiled.

"Yes. But I am afraid that my dress is too long, it will be soiled before we reach the sept." she said, sounding rather disappointed. He paused for a moment's thought, trying to find a solution and then Falgon stepped forward.

"May I offer you my strength, my lady?" he asked politely, and her eyes went to him in wonder as Raeghun smiled relieved; and then her eyes came back to him the sheen of confusion behind the blue.

"He means, he will carry you as far as the doors of the sept." he clarified, and she blushed above a grateful smile.

"Oh. Thank you, ser. That is very kind of you." she said softly and he moved closer.

"With your permission, my lady." he stood next to her, and after a moment of consideration she nodded. He leaned forward, his arms going gently around her back and behind her knees before lifting her from the floor, the dress well away from the ground. She glanced down, and gasped as her arms suddenly wound around his neck, realizing how high she was; and Berin chuckled.

"There's no reason to be afraid, Mae. Our Falgon is very sure-footed." he eased, then her arms slowly came away from him as not to crumple the front of her dress, and then Falgon turned towards Raeghun.

"Whenever you're ready, sire." he said, and the lord turned to face the others.

"Yes, I believe it is time." he agreed, holding his arm for his wife as Berin did for his. They departed the tower for the small port, finding the ferry awaiting them to carry them across the Whispering Sound to further make their way to the sept. Mae looked over the waters, and then her eyes came to the face of the man holding her in his arms.

"You may put me down for a while, if you want to. I must be getting heavy." she said softly, and he smiled at her.

"Not at all. I can barely feel you." he assured before returning his attention to the oncoming shore, and she eased just a little more against him. Claira was right. Despite his massive strength, it felt like she was drifting on a cloud; his muscles hadn't even the slightest strain under her. Her hands went to his shoulders, and she drew herself forward to place a gentle kiss on his smooth cheek.

"Thank you, ser Falgon." she said softly and he glanced at her again.

"It is my great pleasure, sweet lady." and she found herself blushing again. They left the ferry, making their way through the streets to the sept while people gathered, here and there a staring face. Two Hightower guards followed closely behind the sentinel, and finally they reached the doorway into the great hall where soft songs could be heard. Raeghun's attention went to his wife, and their sentinels.

"I will find you inside." he assured, bringing Claira's hand to his mouth before she moved into the shadow at Berin's left side, his own wife at his right and the sentinels following. Then he turned to Falgon behind him as he carefully set Mae down in front of the doors while her guardsmen took their places on each side of the arch, ensuring that she was secure on her own feet before bringing his arms away from her; then he bowed formally and left again down the steps while Mae stared in surprise.

"Where is he going?" Raeghun laughed.

"He won't enter here, so I assume he'll wait outside. Falgon isn't inclined to religious rituals. He refused to enter the gods grove at Pale Haven until..." he paused, cursing himself for bringing it up and feeling the heat in his fingers.

"Until what?" Mae asked, and he shook his head shooing the thoughts.

"It's not important. What is, is this day. Your day." he said smiling, and taking her hands in his.

"I've never been able to imagine you as beautiful as you are today." he complimented, again seeing the shine in her eyes.

"Thank you, Raeghun." she accepted softly as he regarded her.

"I'm proud of you. And I'm sure that father and mother would be, too." Her hands tensed in his, a light pink coming to her cheeks.

"I miss them, so much. I wish they were here." she whispered, the telling tone of sorrow under her breath, and then his hand went to her face.

"They are here. In the blue of your eyes, in the blood in your veins, and in the fire burning in your heart. You take the name of Hightower, but your line will always be that of Taugere. You will always be a lady of the burning mountain." he promised, and brought his lips softly to her brow as his thumb ran along her jaw and her eyes closed in remembrance. Right now, she was all he had directly of the Taugere line apart from his wife and the realization that he was letting her go felt heavy. But this day had come, and now it was here, and it won't wait... not for anyone, no matter how much he wished for it to do so. He drew back and examined her a final time before holding his arm for her, waiting patiently as he gave her a moment to claim a deep breath and steady herself. Then she smiled again, happy and glowing like always as her fingers went around his elbow and together they entered the sept where they were waited upon, families and friends on both sides and her groom at the other side equally bright in white and smoke grey silk.

Following the grand ceremony where vows were exchanged before the new ones, they returned to the tower for the feast. The hall filled with joy and song while the guests enjoyed chilled wine, roasts with buttered greens, and sweet pastries along with the customary pigeon pie. The lords and ladies shared their conversation and predictions for the future while others met in the centre of the hall for dances, and children played in the passageways with the dogs. Milla sat next to lady Olenna Tyrell of Highgarden discussing their homes as she watched the people circling the hall, lord Raeghun dancing with his sister and lord Cladus with his mother, Berin asked Claira to join the dance shortly after many others followed as Milla declined, feeling her feet swollen and sensitive.

"How far along are you, child?" Olenna suddenly asked, and Milla's eyes came to her.

"Pardon me, my lady?" Olenna indicated the still full goblet in front of Milla.

"This is the best wine of the Reach, and you haven't touched it. I'm assuming there's a good reason for that on this grand feast." she mentioned, bringing her own chalice to her lips and Milla blushed.

"Oh. I'm not exactly sure, my lady. It's near to sixteen weeks by now, I think." she said, laying a hand on the little swell of her stomach.

"Well, we can't have you sitting here with a thirst all night." she said, indicating to a serving girl nearby.

"Have the cook send us a decanter with something special, but healthy." she instructed, and the girl vanished to the kitchens, and Milla thanked her gratefully, thinking that the fearsome matriarch of Highgarden was kinder than what she'd heard her to be and despite having a level of petulance she loved her people very much, and they continued their discussion on growing houses and families as the night went on and Milla was presented a decanter of warm honeyed milk to sate her thirst; they shared over the pride of their future. Lady Olenna's own grandchildren and the heirs of their house was to turn five and six in this year, and she praised their talents. Loras Tyrell was turning out to be a fine future knight, while little Margaery poised all the grace of the golden rose, and she spared a fleeting sympathetic glance at Claira.

"But one great house, has yet to grow..." she mentioned softly, and Milla nodded.

"I will admit that it is taking longer than would be expected, but we still have our hope. It will happen." she said, and Olenna agreed.

"Of course it will. While not many have faced the same situation, it is not unheard of. My own second cousin had to wait well past her wedding night to receive her first child." she told, and Milla felt strangely relieved, that her friend was not the only one forced to face a lingering state. Then a shadow appeared in front of the table, where Raeghun stood smiling at her.

"Lady Milla, might I ask you for a final dance?" he asked as she looked at the lady at her side.

"I'd love to, lord Raeghun. But my feet won't agree to that, tonight." she declined and he nodded before his attention went to her current companion.

"Lady Olenna, would you do me the honour?" he asked, and she debated for a moment before draining her goblet and standing.

"Yes, I would. I haven't shared a dance with a young man in years." she joked as he extended his hand for her, which she took and they joined the last dance. Milla scanned the faces, Claira had evidently accepted lord Baelor's invitation and was smiling, possibly further eased by some wine she didn't seem as concerned with the dress that had been an irritation to her this afternoon. Berin took the empty seat beside her, and lay a hand on her lap.

"How are you feeling, my sunflower?" he asked, a subtle bitterness of wine coming off him.

"I'm fine, my company has been very amiable. But I will confess I am beginning to feel tired." she said, and he leaned forward slightly.

"We can go, if you want." he suggested, and she shook her head.

"It's al right, I'm sure it won't be much longer." she looked up as the song slowly died away, and Baelor moved to the high table to seize a cup and held it high to share his words. The customary bedding ceremony followed in all its excitement, and while Claira and Milla remained in the hall choosing not to follow this fervently practised ritual, Raeghun and Berin ensured that the process did not tarnish the lady's virtue before returning to the hall along with everyone else, further revelling in the feast for a while before retirement as the bride and groom united their families and their bloodlines.

A fortnight was spent at the great Hightower, and they partook in all its activities while ocean storms came and went, and guests started to depart for their homes on clear days. On the morning of their own departure Raeghun and Cladus shared a walk around the tower grounds with the Hightower pack of hounds leading the way as his people oversaw preparations to leave the tower and they shared their thoughts freely. They stopped on the flat expanse overlooking the ocean.

"You must long for home." Cladus mentioned, and Raeghun breathed in the moist air.

"I do. The heat here has been rather arduous, but we enjoyed our stay." he said, and turned towards Cladus.

"I hope that my sister will remain content here." he said, and Cladus smiled.

"I will do anything I can for her." he assured, Raeghun's stare remaining on the calm blue.

"Mae is a tender woman, free spirited and gentle. She requires the utmost care." he advised, and Cladus nodded.

"So I've come to realize. She's not as erogenous as most women." he said with a slight snigger,

"I'm sure everyone has shared with you their words of wisdom, Cladus. So, allow me to share with you mine. My father taught me, that as men we do everything we can do protect our families. Our whole families, no matter who or where they are." he said, and Cladus took that in.

"Thank you for your words." he said, and a powerful hand took hold of his shoulder solidly.

"So, If you ever break my sister's heart, I will hunt you. No mountain or sea, nor wall or tower will be able to hide you from me." he said, and Cladus stared at him, at the burning blue of his eyes as he tried to steel himself.

"Is that a threat, lord Taugere?" he asked, and Raeghun grinned.

"No. No, it's not a threat. But I do have a tendency to keep my promises." he corrected, and Cladus glanced down. In spite of the suddenness, he understood how he felt; and could imagine himself making a similar promise if he had a young beautiful sister who married to a far off stranger.

"I would never cause her deliberate heartache, Raeghun. I swear it." he said, and felt pressure to his shoulder, discharging a noticeable warmth.

"Good. That is a great comfort." Raeghun said, the harshness leaving his eyes and his hand coming away from the shoulder.

"My union with your sister was more a proposal by our fathers than your ordered marriage, but I don't care for the circumstances. I love Mae, just as much as you love your Claira." Raeghun nodded and looked away from him, leaving a moment of silence and Cladus realized that the sheen to his eyes was not unpleasantness. Not as much as it was sorrow.

"You still want to keep her safe." he said softly, bringing Raeghun's attention back to him.

"She's my sister, and I made a promise." he said, and Cladus stepped closer.

"She will be protected here, I give you my word." he assured, and they both eased feeling more like brothers in their honesty, and they further enjoyed the garden route with lighter conversation. By mid day, the Taugere's and their party issued their farewells and boarded the ferry to return to the burning mountain, and by sunset found themselves back on the deck of the Willow Horizon as it cut through the waters off the coast. As before, the journey was pleasant with good company, but seemed shorter as they would enter Lannisport within a fortnight, and one evening a rough storm rolled in from the horizon, throwing the barge remorselessly over the tossing waves. Claira sat with Milla in their private cabin in the stern of the ship softly stroking her arm and trying to comfort her as the motion brought on an onslaught of queasiness. She lay on the small feather bed with her arms wrapped around her stomach, breathing deeply and forcing the rate to remain calm and even, but her skin emitted a slight hue of pale.

"It should pass over soon." Claira said softly, and Milla slightly moaned.

"I hope so. This is embarrassing." she said, and forced a laugh.

"No, Milla. We understand. Is there anything I can get you? Some water, perhaps?" Claira asked, and Milla's green eyes came up at her.

"You're not my handmaiden, my lady." she said, and Claira smiled.

"No, but I am your friend." she said, then gently pet her arm and stood.

"I'll be right back. Try not to fall off the bed." she teased, heading for the door and at least heard her friend snigger as she took a clay cup from a barrel used as a small table. She found Colbert outside the door, standing guard.

"How is lady Milla?" he asked, being aware of the situation and Claira softly closed the door.

"She'll be better once we leave this storm. I will find her some water, please stay with her until I return." she said, and the sentinel bowed his head.

"Yes, my lady." she left down the tiny space, and found Falgon vigilant near the stairway heading to the deck and he looked down at her.

"Is there something you require, your grace?" he asked, and she paused.

"I need to bring water back for lady Milla." she said, and Falgon held out his hand.

"If I may, your grace. I will retrieve it for you. Your husband will have me thrown to the waves if I allow you to venture out where you may be injured." he advised, and she placed the cup in his hand.

"May I ask a final favour of you, your grace?" he asked,

"Of course." she allowed, and he glanced at the doorway.

"May I have the use of your shoulder cloth for a moment?" She nodded, and pulled the fine cloth from her sleeve and gave it to him; for a moment wondering why she always carried these things with her as she never used them, but at that moment was grateful that it was a solid habit. He bowed and headed out into the cold wet night, but she saw him standing on the deck blatantly ignoring the sways of the ship. He had drawn his sword, and spent a moment cleaning the glistening blade and the cross guard with the fabric before holding it out to the rain which adhered to the steel almost instantly, running down its length to the cross guard and into the cup in a small stream; then he replaced the sword and returned sopping wet but with a full cup of clear, fresh water and handed it to her with the cloth, only slightly dirty.

"I've never seen anything like that." she said, and he shrugged.

"It's something I learned off a pirate. But it's only useful on nights like these. Rain water is cleaner than what is stored in the barrels." he said, and she nodded taking in his advice.

"Shouldn't you redress? You might catch a cold." she asked, noticing the water dripping from him.

"Don't worry about me, your grace. I'll be fine." he assured, and she smiled.

"Thank you so much, ser Falgon. I should get back." he bowed his head.

"It was my pleasure, your grace. I hope our lady recovers soon." he said, then she turned and left back to the small cabin, and found Milla as she left her and she sat down on the edge of the bed again.

"Here." she held out the cup to her friend, who slowly raised on one elbow and took the cup in her hand bringing it to her mouth, first in a tiny sip and then swallowed eagerly before returning the cup.

"I've never tasted better water than that." she said softly, savouring the almost sweet taste that came from the cup, laying herself back down on the little bed, some colour returning to her face, and Claira put the cup down on the chair at the foot of the bed.

"It's rain water. Falgon got it for you." she said, and Milla laughed.

"He is an inspiring man." she complimented, easing into the pillows while Claira smiled under a soft blush.

"We were very fortunate, I still can't believe he is one of ours. Things may have been very different without him." she whispered, and then the door to the cabin softly opened and closed. Claira looked up to see Berin approach, removing his cloak and laying it down on a chest next to the door.

"Thank you so much for staying with my wife, my lady. The captain has assured that we should reach Lannisport by noon tomorrow if the winds are kind." he said as he came closer, and Claira stood.

"It was no trouble. I hope that the remainder of the night will be at least peaceful for us all. But if you need anything-" he raised his hand.

"Not to worry, my lady. You should find your rest. Your lord husband awaits you." he eased, and she sighed.

"Very well. Good night, lord and lady Trentin." she greeted, and they returned her fondness before she left the room and made her way to their own cabin three doors away, finding Raeghun sitting on the bed with his boots already removed and undoing the lace of his doublet. She closed the door and went to him, laying her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Shall I help you with that, my lord?" she asked, and his clear blue eyes came up to her.

"Only if you'll grant me the same honour, my lady." he teased smiling, and her fingers went to the threads fastening the doublet while his went around her sides to loosen the ribbons holding her purple dress to her body. With the laces undone she slid the garment over his shoulders before pulling the tunic up over his head and removing it, exposing his skin; and as the shirt left his wrists his hands deftly slipped the straps from her shoulders, allowing the dress to crumple to the floor by her feet, leaving her completely bare. His hands slid around her hips to the small of her back to pull her forward, and pressed his lips against the flawless cool skin of her lower abdomen; her cold fingers ran over his shoulders as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, her skin tingling under the warmth he brought to her, secretly wishing for more. I never want this to end... His right hand slid down her hip, over her leg and found a place behind her knee drawing her forward onto his lap with her knees past his hips and then his arms wound around her waist while his lips branded another adoring kiss on her chest, and her hands rested on the sides of his neck.

"Raeghun, will you love me the same way, in ten years?" she asked, and he drew back.

"I will love you the same way, and more in even a hundred years. I want to see our sons and daughters, our grandchildren and our great grandchildren, all with you at my side. This may have been our last endeavour, as I'm not planning to leave the Corridor or even Mount Ardor again unless it is deemed necessary. And although I don't know what the future holds for us, I do know that nothing will ever change us." he said as his hand softly went from her back to into her hair. She smiled, and then leaned forward to find his lips with hers, then his fingers gently strained into her delicate skin.

Sunrise saw calm waters, and a welcome peaceful day before the Willow Horizon docked at the grand city of Lannisport by dusk, a bit later than was expected. They spent the night at a tavern named The Golden Arms planning their return to Mount Ardor where they met a merchant called Cole, who was second cousin to the stable master at Seagard and made his living off hauling commodities up and down the roads between settlements and holds. Over a horn of golden ale, Cole insistently persuaded Raeghun for his party to join his and travel with them, as they would be heading up north and was expected to trade in Seagard, which was finally accepted; but subtle whispers of unsafe roads left Claira feeling uneasy. Whether the merchant's kind gesture was purely out of courtesy, or if he hoped for the additional protection of the sentinels was left to be debated by the mind. By mid morning the following day, subsequent to discussion with the Lannisport stable master who was well acquainted with the master of Seagard and assurance that trade between their yards was fluent with travelling parties, they acquired the use of four young geldings named Rusty, Dusty, Misty and Sandy for their pelt colours to be ridden by the sentinels. They joined Cole's fellowship at the city gates where he awaited them on his sizeable merchant cart, drawn by four more horses. His group consisted of five members, two women and a man that helped with his trade, and two mercenary guards whose assignment was the safety of the wagon, whom all expressed an instant liking for the accompanying group. Claira and Milla were given comfortable seats on sheepskins and animal pelts at the front of the wagon while the back held barrels and crates and chests, the remaining sentinels left to find whatever comfort they could among the clutter with the workers while Raeghun and Berin joined the merchant on the seat; and as the sun touched its highest point in the sky, the wagon pulled through the city gates, with Falgon, Gavin, Edur and Saerus positioned around it, the mercenary guards perched on the back of the cart and they took the River road that would join the King's road and lead them north. Almost a mile along the road, the merchant pointed towards what seemed to be a vast cliff and mountain range along the coast.

"That there's Casterly Rock. Home of the richest family in Westeros." he indicated, bringing everyone's attention to the solid mass as they passed by.

"Oh, yes. The famous Rock, seat of the Lannisters. It is said to be absolutely unassailable." Raeghun mentioned, and Cole laughed.

"Aye, I've heard stories. One is of deep cells where prisoners wither in the dark. Another is that the ghost of Lann still walks the halls." he told, and they spared a moment of awe for the grand fortress while the landscape passed, crossing wide fields, lush woodlands and rushing rivers. In the days that followed they passed Oxcross, Sarsfield, the Golden Tooth and Wayfarer's Rest before reaching a woodland by late noon. A great pine lay across the road blocking their way forward.

"There haven't been any storms for several days..." Raeghun muttered as he stood, the scene leaving a chill down the sides of his throat as he turned towards Berin.

"Take Remir, go have a look." he instructed, and they stepped off the wagon, heading into the thicket. Moments later they returned, looking rather sombre.

"This tree didn't break, it was cut." Remir reported.

"Do you suppose the lumberers left it by accident?" Gavin asked from next to the wagon, and Raeghun felt the chill intensify.

"Right across a main road is an odd place to leave a tree 'by accident', Gavin." Raeghun said, and then brought his attention to Cole.

"I'd suggest we head back to Wayfarer's Rest, and resume the journey by first light. The road might be cleared by then, or give us enough time to find another way." he mentioned, and the merchant's gaze followed the trees to their right.

"There is a smaller route just a ways off to the south; I've used it before. My goods will be expected to be delivered to Riverrun before noon." he urged, and Raeghun's eyes went back to the trail. I don't like this...

"We'll go as far as we can before stopping to make camp." Cole said, driving the wagon off the road along the trees for another mile and further into the shade on a smaller path. They followed the narrow path amidst the trees until it was little more than a darker shade than the area flanking the trail, then finally it spread into a small clearing and Cole stopped the wagon.

"This is far enough for now. Any further and we'll be going blind." Raeghun had to reluctantly agree. He and Berin helped Claira and Milla from their seats on the wagon while the sentinels and the trade workers started to prepare what could be called a camp site with small tents, and a fire while the horses were unsaddled and unharnessed before they were haltered to a rope spun between two nearby trees. Cole offered five pheasants and three hares from his stores.

"I'm afraid I ain't much of a cook." he mentioned, and Milla held out her hand.

"It's al right. We'll manage, but we might sup a little late." she said taking hold of a fat bird while Remir, Derric and the women claimed the other four; and Claira, Adelard and the man saw to the large hares and Saerus along with Edur foraged the nearby area for herbs and berries. Cole headed back to the wagon to bring out bread and cheese, with five wine skins, one filled with water and Raeghun and Berin set out the nightly vigil, of which Falgon and Hernaut would take first watch, and then the lord scanned the faces. All of them in their belonging, as he watched their wives and those around them smiling as they shared stories while methodically removing the limbs of the carcasses before pulling the skin from the meat. Not just fine warriors, and certainly not just pretty faces; and he smiled adoring each of them. His people... His family. Before too long, the meat was prepared and suspended over the flames to roast as the group shared the fire, and the wine skins; the wine passing freely while the water was limited to a young bearing mother. Berin looked up, noticing Falgon standing several feet away watching the woodland; and recalling that he hadn't eaten at all today he stood taking a heel of bread and one of the roasts which still bore an untouched pheasant breast and made his way to him.

"Here." he presented the food to his friend, who gave little more attention than a fleeting glance before returning his eyes to the shadows.

"Thank you, Berin. I'll have something once my vigil has ended." he declined, but Berin brought the portions closer to him again.

"I'm not leaving you alone until you eat. I swear you'd starve yourself before just accepting something from anyone." he said, pretending irritation as he shoved the food into the sentinel's hands, demanding his attention again.

"That's not true." he started.

"Falgon. Eat." Berin said, almost ordered; and Falgon sighed bringing the pieces to his mouth, which were surprisingly succulent and well flavoured for field rations, and he thought of the soft hands that prepared it.

"You're uneasy." Berin identified even in the shadows as he studied the man in front of him.

"I don't think it's safe here. Cole should have heeded our lord's advice to return to Wayfarer's Rest." he said, and Berin glanced back at the merchant sitting next to the sentinels around the fire, the wineskin in his hand.

"Knowing you, you're probably right. We should have gone back. But we weren't given a lot of options. Alternatively, we should have kept going, but everyone is tired." he confessed, feeling the same suspicion.

"I hope that dawn comes soon, and without disturbances." Falgon muttered, and Berin nodded in agreement. Under the passing stars the night waned on, and Cole abandoned the fire for his wagon to rest until sunrise; while the rest vanished into the small tents for soft bedrolls or kept watch. Sometime during the night, Claira woke to find her husband sitting up next to her, tense and alert; his focus on the outside world as he listened.

"What is it?" she whispered, and without turning he lay his hand on her arm.

"Something is not right. It's too quiet." he raised himself from the bedroll, refitting the breeches to his waist and pulling on boots before silently making his way to the entrance of their tent as she raised herself. He found Berin crouching on the outside, having just came from their shelter a few feet away.

"Raeghun." he whispered, scanning the outside that was completely dark as the fire had died out.

"I know. Where's Milla?" he asked, and Berin's voice came back.

"Still asleep." he said, and Raeghun glanced back at his wife, indicating for her to get dressed. Berin drew a dagger at the sound of soft oncoming footsteps, but then eased as the shadow came into view and knelt.

"Cole is gone, and I can't find Adelard or Remir." Falgon's voice came softly from the shadows, and Raeghun breathed in slowly as he thought.

"And the others?" Raeghun enquried.

"Derric is scouting the border of the camp site; I've sent Saerus to wake the others" he informed. Just then, another set of soft footsteps rushed in from the darkness.

"I can't see much, but there's definitely activity all around us. I'm afraid we're surrounded, and they don't mean well." Derric's whisper came.

"How many?" a short silence followed.

"I'm not sure, my lord. Twenty, at the very least." he calculated.

"Fuck..." Raeghun glanced at Claira, silently coming to his side, having pulled on a faded grey gown, her hand resting on his elbow and he could tell she was deathly afraid. I won't submit you to the same nightmare, ever again...

"Falgon, can you get to the horses?" he asked softly.

"I should be able to, sire." he confirmed.

"Good. I'm sending you and three others ahead. Hurry, and keep out of sight." Raeghun instructed, and the tall shadow vanished without a sound. Then his attention went to Berin.

"I'm sorry my friend, you'll have to wake your Milla. Take our wives, get them away from here, head for Riverrun, but don't stop at a farm or those people will be endangered as well." he said, and Claira's grip tightened on his arm.

"Raeghun-" he looked at her,

"I'm staying. I'll help who I can, and then we'll follow." he said, and heard Berin move outside

"It's too dangerous. I'll stay and help the others." he insisted, and Raeghun's attention went back to him as the steady trudge of hooves and footsteps sounded from the shadows.

"You take your orders from me, sentinel. You have an expectant wife to protect, now go. I'll find you at the next hold." he said, bringing his wife out into the night and guiding her into the hands of the sentinel who stood waiting. He picked her up and seated her on the bare back of the copper roan gelding before swiftly mounting behind her.

"Raeghun, please..." she begged as she leaned slightly forward, placing her hand to his face; and he covered her hand with his.

"I will find you, I promise." his attention went to the sentinels watching their surroundings next to the tent.

"Gavin, Saerus, go with them." he instructed, and then looked at the remaining members of his order.

"And the rest of you are with me." he assigned, bringing his attention back to Berin.

"I'm not leaving you here." Berin insisted glancing at Gavin, believing his wife could be safe with him up to the next holdfast, then Raeghun's hand found his shoulder solidly guiding him towards the tent.

"I am not going to argue with you about it. Do as I say!" he ordered, and Berin moved off returning in an instant with an equally frightened Milla and seating her on the grey gelding before mounting behind her.

"I'll come back for you." he promised, and heard his friend sigh heavily.

"There's no time. Just go, now!" he said, and turned to move away into the centre of the camp site, taking a sword from a crate next to their tent. A sudden daunting cry shattered the night as he called for the intruders' attention, giving the four sentinels a single window of escape to disappear into the night. The horses ran down the narrow trail, hooves thundering and hearts pounding through the woods, the chirping of birds waking to early morning sounding around them as they raced along. Claira's face felt cold, the wind clinging to the tear stains down her cheeks and her hands straining into the shoulders of her sentinel as they emerged into another small clearing along the path, making out through the diminished trees that the horizon was a shade of dark blue. She looked up at Falgon, and then at Berin.

"We have to go back! We have to go back for him! We can't leave him!" she suddenly cried, and Berin looked back.

"I know. I know, I will. Gavin-" he started, silently debating his options.

"We have to go back, Berin!" Claira cried again desperately, then Falgon dismounted and took her from the horse's back.

"I'll go back. Take them, and keep heading down the path; Riverrun is not far." he instructed, seating her on the flank of the horse behind Berin and then turned to mount again.

"Gavin, Saerus with me." he further assigned, falling into command easily and Berin regarded him.

"You are the lady's sentinel, Falgon." he reminded, and the dark eyes came to him from his position on the horse,

"You love to argue, Berin. Your child cannot enter this world without a father, now get going." he said, then simply turned the horse around and started back to the woodland with Gavin and Saerus following; and Berin was left to contemplate him yet again before resuming the way down the road.

The company lay scattered, either killed or dragged off or fled. A bolt protruded from Raeghun's back, another severed muscles in his right thigh, and he was struggling to breathe as he watched the men circling him. His four remaining sentinels on the ground by him, bolts and arrows in their legs and shoulders. They were fierce fighters to be sure, but swords and fists were of no use if you couldn't reach your attacker who sat grinning at you on horseback with a crossbow in his hands. They won't kill him, he was worth more alive. But you could still torture without taking a life, of the others he couldn't be sure. Derric looked up from his side.

"My lord, you have to go. We'll create an opening-" he started, before Raeghun silenced him.

"I'm not running." he said stubbornly, clasping the sword tighter in his hands and ignoring the bitter burning pain in his chest and leg.

"My lord..." he started, holding his weight on damaged legs.

"I'm not leaving without you. Any of you." he said again, and glanced at his sentinel.

"You are my people. What good am I as the liege lord, if I can't protect my people?" Hernaut rose to his feet, clasping the sword in his hands.

"Your safety is our charge, my lord. Not the other way around." he said as he scanned the faces around them as they moved in closer, the horses trudging about briskly.

"I don't care. Peasants to nobles, all stand under my protection." Raeghun said, and heard Hernaut step forward.

"A greater man, there has yet to be..." he breathed softly, and lurched forward in painful motion as another bolt shattered his shoulder, forcing an almost echoing wail from his chest.

"Get back, you fool!" Raeghun ordered, but the stubborn sentinel found his footing.

"No. A fool I am, but I am your sword and your shield bound by honour to give my life for yours. If I don't leave here alive, you must." he moved forward again into a surge of sudden chaos, and the confusing rain of clashing steel, the world was drenched in a crimson agony, made clearer only by a few moments of daze when starlight flashed off bright steel. He could hear them around him in the throngs of battle as they warded off the siege laid to them leaving a wall of blood. The edges of swords cut into limbs, the eerie dull screams of friend and foe whisking through the trees under incessant laughter as the wounds drained away at their strength. Derric focused on an oncoming attack from his right as the pommel of a sword struck his neck, rendering him lifeless on the ground while Colbert and Edur's attention was fixed on the onslaught of the sides, and through the pain and resisting breaths the lord took down those that came at him. The blade in his hand forced away the cut of an axe before an arm wrapped solidly around his throat, further limiting what his lungs could take in, and sour breath wafted by him.

"That's enough of that, now." Raeghun lowered the sword, resisting the urge to retaliate from this vulnerable position. Had he been uninjured, it would have been easy; but wounded as he was if the retaliation failed he could be killed.

"Tell your friends to put down their swords, and there won't be no more of this game." the bandit ordered.

"Lay down your arms." he instructed, and the sentinels turned to face him.

"Let him go!" Edur demanded, and Raeghun brought his hand up.

"It's al right, Edur. Do as you're told." he said, sensing the burn to his own skin; but forcing a reluctant surrender as the sentinels gave up their weapons and were seized by the group. The bandit's hand came up to the bolt in Raeghun's back, taking hold of the shaft.

"Sorry about that, let me help you out a bit." he pushed the bolt further into the flesh, sending searing pain flooding Raeghun's body and he bit back an excruciating cry, but a small sense of relief came when his breathing slightly eased. The sentinels moved forward, before being halted with blades to their throats.

"There, better ain't it?" the bandit said slamming a hand into Raeghun's back, sending more burns through his chest. Derric was brought over as he regained consciousness, being thrown down at Raeghun's feet.

"You don't know who that is, do you?" Edur directed at the bandit, some of their members discarding their horses to rummage through the camp site. The bandit glared at Raeghun, examining him and then brought his attention back to Edur as another joined him, taking hold of the lord's shoulder.

"Should I care?" he asked, his flat face drawn with sarcasm.

"Hold your tongue." Raeghun ordered, If they know who I am... but Colbert silenced his thoughts.

"He is Raeghun Taugere, lord of the burning mountain, Mount Ardor and liege of the Corridor. So I would suggest you let him go, lest you want a bigger bounty on your heads." he identified, and the bandit's eyes came back to him, live with greed.

"He don't look much like a lord." he mentioned.

"He doesn't need the refinement, when his blood alone exceeds all else." Hernaut said, and the bandit looked back smiling broadly, revealing skewed brown teeth.

"A man of rich blood, is it? We'll get a good bargain for you, we will." he said, stepping around to face him.

"I won't relinquish the labour of my countrymen for your desires. If you want to kill me, do it. But leave my people be." he said, and the bandit stepped closer, still grinning.

"No?" his sour breath was as nauseating as it was maddening.

"I don't make deals with threats." the words sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn't recall where he would have heard it.

"You don't; but your lady might, to get you back. I'd bet every pound of silver we ever stole that she's a pretty one. One night with her-" in a sudden instant of blazing madness, Raeghun's head shot forward disregarding the sear through his muscles, connecting with the bridge of the bandit's nose with an ominous snap and he stumbled away with a suppressed wail, his hand clasped over his face.

"And that's only a slip of what you'll get." he said, watching the bandit stagger around, blinded from the impact. The hand on his shoulder jerked him backwards, and he winced at the movement of the objects through his skin. The bandit straightened, his hand leaving his face to reveal bloodshot eyes, broken skin above a destroyed blood flanked nose and red running down his mouth and chin. He walked forward, raising the blade to Raeghun's chest.

"You pompous swine!" he spat through the blood.

"It's an improvement." he stopped, and looked back at Hernaut.

"Even the most desperate tavern wench might look at you for a fifth time now." he brought the bandit's attention away from Raeghun, to focus on him.

"Assuming you bastards don't have wives, you probably keep it in the ranks." he looked back at the younger man whose hands were clamped on his shoulders.

"So, how does it feel to have it in the ass, boy?" he grinned, receiving a returned smirk.

"How about my foot up yours, old man?" a hard knee went into the back of his left thigh, sending him down on the ground; and multiple fists and boots assaulted him, ignoring the bolts as well as the shouts to stop. A sudden nearby cry made them freeze, and they looked in the direction seeing nothing but darkness. The first bandit wiped the blood from his mouth, and looked at two others.

"What are you standing around for? Go take a look." he ordered, and they cautiously moved off, disappearing into the shadows. Moments passed, before again the surge of screams tore through the air; and the men rose the blades in front of them; their attention fixed on the space where three men vanished. Raeghun looked at Hernaut, still lying on the ground. I'm sorry... Another explosion of chaos erupted as four massive shadows burst from the tree line, a long glimmering blade cut through three men while shorter blades severed throats and stomachs of others. The restraining hands vanished as the first shadow rushed past while the others stopped around Raeghun, and somewhere in the bout he felt calmness come to him, and he took in familiar faces as drowsiness washed into him. The hands of Saerus found him, and forced him onto the saddle of a horse next to him before he mounted behind him. Gavin, as quickly as he could while the attackers were distracted by the greatest mass hauled Colbert onto the back of another horse, and then mounted Derric on his own before joining him. They drew their swords and then moved forward, driving back those who came at them as the first shadow came back, and in less than a moment touched ground, hauled Hernaut over the saddle and swiftly mounted again.

"Let's go!" a deep voice ordered, and they broke through the line again racing along the narrow trail, drawing a frustrated command from behind.

"After them, you useless shits!" The group rushed through the shadows, passing trees and shrubs, fluttering wings and waking sounds. Falgon looked up, through the leaves he could make out the sky taking on a hue of dark purple. He listened, drowning out the frantic beats of the horses, and recognised the inconsistency of the thunder behind them; and he hoped they would make it. The path started to grow wider, and in the distance he could make out the shape of a cantering horse, three figures on its back; and he cursed. Listening again, the hoof beats were louder and closer than before. As they neared, he called out.

"Go! Go! Ride!" Berin's face came into view as he glanced at Claira behind him.

"Hold on to me." he instructed, and her arms went securely around his waist while his left arm wrapped around Milla in front of him, the fingers of his right mangling into the silky mane with the reins. I'm sorry about this, boy... His heels went into the ribs of the horse painfully, lurching it forward into a sudden gallop and the party raced forward through the trees, nudged closer by a narrowing trail, but the edge of the woodland came into view revealing a greying horizon. Falgon looked back, again listening. The horses are double mounted; we won't get far...He stopped the horse, and slipped from its back as the others halted.

"What are you doing?" Falgon ignored the question.

"Colbert, take Hernaut." he instructed, and the sentinel exchanged horses; and then his dark eyes went to Berin.

"Go, get them away from here! And whatever happens, do not come back for me!" he ordered.

"You're mad!" Berin felt the surge of acid through his veins.

"Just go, Berin! I will find you at the hold!" he said again,

"Falgon!" Claira called to him,

"Go!" he struck the flank of the nearest horse hard, sending it off and forcing the others to follow. He breathed in deep, watching them as their forms grew smaller down the path and then removed Summit from his back and turned to face the oncoming horde, assuming a position in the centre of the path that would lead them from the narrow trail into open fields; the first riders stopped noticing the tall figure blocking their way, his great sword clasped in his right hand and despite the eminent light of day, a darkness spread all around him.

"This is as far as you go." he advised, the bandit leader sat grinning at him.

"What the hell are you waiting for? It's only one man. After them!" he ordered, and two others continued their pursuit. Falgon moved, and blood splattered the trees to his sides, headless corpses falling from startled horses.

"You deal with me, first. Perhaps you didn't hear, or you have the concentration span of a herring." Falgon said, smiling confidently, and the bandit grimaced baring his now bloodstained teeth in rage.

"Kill him!" he screamed, motivating the others into an attack, and laying the edge of his blade over his shoulder, again Falgon moved forward into screams. He hadn't been able to release his restraints in a long time, and it sang to him; every strike against steel, every cut through flesh and he heard his father's voice again. Forward! Forward! Always forward! The only reason you go back is because you're dead! He'd been moving forward so long, he couldn't remember taking the first step.

The horses ran along the road, the river castle coming into view as they moved forward. Claira stared at her husband, fear stabbing at her heart just as much as the bolt in his ribs. He was pallid, and all but limp on the seat in front of Saerus as they rushed on, the new light revealing that the left side of his back and most of his breeches were soaked through in crimson. She looked up at the sky, again praying to any who would listen. The sun loomed over the horizon as they approached the bridge to Riverrun; and perhaps sensing their plight they heard a guardsman call out to lower the drawbridge; allowing the horses to enter swiftly. They stopped at the foot of the stairs leading into the hold, the poor horses breathing heavily from the extended flight as three men rushed down to meet them.

"What happened?" the youngest of the men asked as Gavin and Saerus quickly dismounted. He went to the horse, holding his arms to help Claira down, and she recognised the stocky build, rich auburn hair and blue eyes as Edmure Tully.

"We were attacked on the road... Please, please will you help us? One of our people were left behind." she asked as he gently brought her down.

"The Taugere's. You're lord Willmon Tormont's daughter, aren't you?" he asked, the identification sparking his eyes.

"Yes, yes I am." she confirmed, and he looked at the others.

"Let's get them inside, quickly. Have a company of guards assembled!" he called into the yard, and several soldiers and castle hands gathered to help the wounded inside. Berin helped Milla from the horse, and glanced at his friend only just able to keep his balance. The right side of his breeches left a trail of blood behind him. But he managed a sigh of relief, knowing that they were now safe and could be tended to by the best available abilities. Then his eyes went back to the gate, and he mounted the horse again.

"I'm going back." he said, and Milla turned to him.

"Berin, what will you do?" she asked, the terror clear in her voice.

"I don't know, but I'm going back." he said turning the horse around, and she took a despairing step forward.

"Berin…" his eyes stared through the arch of the gate.

"We can't just leave him. We can't leave him." he muttered.

He stood as they circled him, eyes focused and mind clear of anything. A blade came at him, and he ducked away before bringing Summit up and severing the arm so his attacker would bleed out wailing on the ground, and bringing his count to thirteen. Forward… Always Forward… The edge of his sword deflected a club, and the tip dug into the ribs and exited the back before he pulled back and ducked away from another blow from a rusted mace. Why are you doing this? It came at him as another blade flashed in front of his face. Why are you risking this? His sword opened the stomach of another. There's no time for senseless thought. Forward. Always forward… He scanned them again, each face the same as the next. He had faced twenty-seven men on his own before, bringing their numbers down to twenty two before they took him for themselves, but these numbers didn't seem to lessen. I could be in trouble, here. He blocked the tip of an oncoming spear, broke the shaft and sent his edge into the attacker's chest. No, this is nothing. Move forward… And so he did, moving instantly to his right as a blade brushed by his side, into the stomach of an oncoming assailant, then he turned and severed the arms in a swift strike. He looked at a wall of men, staring at him from the narrow path.

"What's wrong? I'm only one man, and you've barely been able to scratch me." he invited, the darkness around him intensifying.

"You're no man, you're a monster!" one of the men called, and he grinned.

"A monster? Well, you're not wrong. All men are monsters. And it is the cruellest that wear the most colourful masks." he said, bringing the blade over his shoulder again.

"Kill him! Kill him, you shits! Kill him!" Broken-nose sneered, moving his men reluctantly forward.

"KILL HIM!" Falgon balanced himself. FORWARD! Again he moved, slaughtering as he did and bringing forth more screams as his blade cut through multiple men. Is this all there is to you? You've been fighting forever. When will it end? Never? He grimaced, forcing the thoughts aside with a sharp: Shut up! I'll keep fighting, I don't care how long it goes on. It may be the only thing left of me, but if it protects her, I'll keep fighting until the world burns! Reality returned to him when the sound of heavy footfalls drew his attention, and he turned to see Berin behind him, his own sword carving through an attacker; and then he was behind him, his back to his.

"What are you doing here?" Falgon clasped the sword in both hands, calculating the number of men around them.

"Enjoying a cinch in the woods. What the hell do you think I'm doing?" he asked, irritably.

"You shouldn't have come." Falgon said softly;

"It's too late to complain about it, I'm here. So focus on what to do about them." Berin said, indicating the people around them coming forward.

"Al right." they warded off attacks from several sides, leaving deep gashes.

"You're fucking useless! Kill them!" Broken-nose again ordered, and Falgon raised his blade in front of him.

"Come do it yourself, you coward." he invited, and the man stared at him while others reluctantly moved forward; and then the grand wail of a war horn washed over the fields and into the woods, followed by the rumble of thundering hooves over the earth. Berin glanced back to witness a battalion of Tully soldiers clad in gleaming armour race into the shadows, cutting down the remaining marauders as they went; and a small number fled back the way they came, disappearing into the distance as the guards pursued them. Berin sighed, and replaced his sword at his side before turning to Falgon who stood facing away from him, the great sword still in his hand. He turned towards him.

"Falgon-" in an instant he turned, his hand taking hold of the fabric across Berin's chest and slamming him against the trunk of a tree with tremendous strength. His dark eyes were hard, stained by the fury.

"Why? Why did you come back?" he demanded, and Berin raised his hands in a calm gesture as he breathed in.

"Did you honestly believe, that I would leave you behind?" he asked, and the eyes softened again. The hand came away from his chest as the woods grew lighter, like a cloud pulled away from the sun and its rays reached the earth.

"I told you to." Falgon breathed, replacing the sword on his back, and Berin stepped forward away from the tree.

"I am the head of the Sentinels, Falgon; not you. Not yet. You fall under my command, not the other way around." Berin reminded him, and he looked away.

"You owe me nothing…" he breathed softly, tranquillity returning to his worn body; and Berin's hand went to his shoulder.

"Does a life mean nothing to you? I owe you the life of my best friend, of our wives and my unborn child. We may not share blood, Falgon. But you're a sentinel. You're my brother." he told him, and a bitter thought went through his mind and he tried to submerge the memory. My brothers were killed because of me...Berin stared at him.

"Are you al right?" he asked, the sentinel still not meeting his eyes.

"I'm uninjured..." he assured, but Berin's eyes still searched him.

"Good. But that's not what I'm asking." he corrected, and there was a drawn out silence as Berin watched him slowly claim deep breaths; and the stern face came to him then, the same gentle smile they knew looking at him.

"I'm fine, Berin." he promised, and then Berin returned the smile. Lord Edmure Tully, who led the force himself rode up to them.

"We've been looking for these men for a while, they've been terrorising the roads around the Riverlands for a while now." he said, and Berin looked around at the corpses littering the ground.

"Well, there's not a lot more to worry about." he said, and the Edmure smiled.

"That is fortunate. We'll find the others soon enough." he vowed, and then moved off as others followed, and Berin's attention went back to his friend.

"Come, we should get back." he urged, and they returned to the hold with the soldiers. The ride back to Riverrun was fortuitously more peaceful, and by noon the horses entered the gate under the shadow of clouds that had come in from the east, bringing the sound of rain and flashes of light through the sky. They dismounted, and left the horses to the care of stable boys and their master; most of the guards returning to their prior activities while Edmure made for the calm of the hold. Berin and Falgon walked to the stairs, feeling drained but at ease. From the doors Milla appeared, flitting down the steps like a butterfly and threw her arms around her husband's neck to hold him, and he embraced her breathing in her scent deeply. Falgon smiled, sharing the joy of their union and then looked up to see his queen descending the stairs towards them, little more than sorrow drawn over her lovely face and then he turned to Berin and Milla at his side.

"Go ahead. I will join you later." he urged, and Berin spared him a fleeting glance before they left and Claira stood in front of him. She stared at him in silence, her bright blue eyes frigid in their glare. Was she angry with him? He bowed to her formally.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting, your grace." he pardoned, and after another moment of silence she pitched forward and the single mad though occurred that she might strike him. But her arms went around his waist with more power than he would have thought for such a small lady, and she held him firmly, her cheek resting against his chest and her quivering touch burning through him in her embrace; yet all he could do was stand there stunned.

"Thank you. Thank you for bringing my husband back to me. I'm so glad that you're safe, too." she said softly against him, and he looked up through a tense breath seeing Berin looking back at him and smiling as he nodded. Falgon eased slightly then, bringing his arms slowly around her as he looked down and recognised the smell of vanilla, the corners of his lips rising as he pressed her gently against him; just sharing a moment of intimate peace, and in that instant he could feel the sure beat of his own heart. Then she drew back and looked up at him.

"He wants to see you." she informed, and then led him into the castle; up stairways and down halls to a chamber. She opened the door, briskly glancing inside and then stepped aside.

"Go on in." she urged, and he bowed his head before moving past her into the space and she closed the door behind him. Raeghun was sitting on a small chair in the corner of the room, the bolts had been removed from his thigh and back; dressed with odorous medicinal herbs and bound with white linen. He was pale, and the tremble of his muscles evident to experienced eyes as his body fought to regulate the flow through his veins after suffering blood loss; but as he looked up Falgon thanked his lord's spirit that the burn of the phoenix did not leave his clear blue eyes. He leaned back, studying the tall sentinel.

"You left my wife's side, to come to mine." he indicated, and Falgon nodded.

"I beg your forgiveness. I assessed our situation, and acted in its accordance." he explained, and Raeghun took that in. He paused, thinking and then forced himself to his feet unsteadily.

"Again, you have done more than what was expected of you." he turned to face him fully, and forced a breath into his marred lungs.

"Ask anything from me, and it's yours. A horse, a wife, a hold, lands, a title. Ask me, and I will see it done." he promised, and Falgon stared at him in a moment of surprise, then looked down and smiled.

"I don't want anything else, sire. I am happy where I am." he said, honesty as clear as the brightest day; and Raeghun regarded him before a slight flout.

"You have given yourself to us entirely, without any expectations." he determined, and Falgon's eyes came up at him, lucid and soft and truthful.

"It seems that would be the case, sire." he confirmed as Raeghun took him in. The tall man that was their protector. He who gave everything, and wanted nothing. Powerful and resilient, bringing with him hope and comfort. In their darkness, a tower of light...