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.

13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13 – BRIGHT FIRE

Bella Trentin grew rapidly, and soon her presentation followed in the sept of Garde's Post. A short time later, her progressively bubbly laughter and happy shrieks could be heard throughout the halls of the burning mountain while a proposal had been made to hold a tourney in the fields close to Garde's Post to celebrate the occasion of the lady of Mount Ardor's ten and eighth name day, which was declined to several members' disappointment; but it came and went with a grand feast and unsparing fondness. This was a bright, warm day that she descended the incline on the arm of her husband to greet the head of their sentinels and his wife with their daughter nestled in a soft blanket held in her arms on the third level of the great castle, having just come from their chambers; and nurse Mandeline at Milla's side, and Claira raised her arms to take the baby.

"There's my little one." she smiled as Milla released her into her friend's care, and Raeghun regarded her. How she brightened when she held the child, and he laughed. He hadn't held the girl yet for fear of harming her, but now that she was stronger, and less fragile it was a thought that drew him and he extended his hand to her.

"May I?" and Berin smiled.

"Of course." Claira held her out to him, and he softly took her, holding her against his chest; feeling the same warmth go through him as the bright little eyes took him in. There was an instant that Bella only stared at him, wondering who the stranger was that held her in his powerful arms, and then smiled and laughed happily reaching her hands to his face.

"Such a beauty you will be." he predicted, and then glanced at Berin.

"Before long, we will have to intensify our guards my friend. Suitors will come from all the reaches to battle for your daughter's hand." he teased, to soft laughter and a slight blush around him, and then he looked back at Bella.

"And you, little lady, will refuse them all, won't you?" he smiled, and she gurgled excitedly as if in agreement to another instance of laughter as he released her back to his wife's hands; and they moved down the grand staircase to assume their day. Berin attended his rounds in the barracks before heading to the bailey for their daily sparring while Milla and Claira tended to the preparation of the feast hall. After breaking their fast on fresh fruit, grains with thick sweetened cream, sausages and pressed fruit extracts they left the southern hall to resume the remainder of their duties, and enjoy what was left of the day. While Raeghun sat in counsel with Berin and his sentinels in the Hollow, the long drawn out howl of a horn washed over the fields followed by the tolling of the sentry tower bells, to which Berin stood to view the disturbance through the window.

"My lord, Baratheon banners." Raeghun stood and joined him at the window, taking in the bright yellow in the breeze with the royal black stag approaching swiftly. It's too close to the Wanderer's Tourney. Why would they come here?

"This is most surprising." Berin muttered beside him.

"Robert won't abandon his tournaments for a slight visit. Something is wrong." Raeghun responded, he could feel it in the twist down his back, and then returned his attention to those behind him.

"We will continue this after I have received our guest." he announced, and they stood before bowing formally and left the chamber as Raeghun headed for the bailey with Berin at his side to receive the royal traveller. They emerged into the light of late noon as the party rode through the gate, surrounding a tall and lean, broad shouldered man with profound blue eyes and black hair banding his head. He scanned his surroundings, taking in the faces of those who emerged from the castle and its sides to meet them, and then his eyes fell on Raeghun descending the stairs towards him, like the gaze of an eagle spying its prey before he dismounted and walked forward.

"My lord Stannis, what a pleasure. But so close to the annual Wanderer's tourney?" Raeghun met him extending his hand; but the lord Baratheon did not return the gesture.

"I'm afraid it may not be, lord Raeghun. The tourney has been put over." he said, the tone of his voice deep and factual; and Raeghun's hand lowered.

"I come on behest of my brother, king Robert." Of course you do... Of course, that was lord Stannis Baratheon. Straight to the point.

"The Ironborn has risen against the crown in rebellion, with Balon Greyjoy proclaiming himself king of the Iron Islands. The Lannister fleet at Lannisport has been near to completely destroyed in a surprise attack, and now they are pillaging small villages along the coastline as they're heading to invade the kingdoms, this is an act of treason. I come to lay before you a request: Will the phoenix rise with the stag once again in battle?" It struck him like a wave, all the different emotions that told him to go and to stay, both fervour and unease tearing away at him; but the blue eyes stared at him expectantly, awaiting his answer. Raeghun took a deep breath, and then looked back at the many faces of those standing on the steps; initially to welcome a guest, now drawn in fright and worry. Then he met the deep brown eyes some feet behind him of the man clad in light grey.

"Maester Adlyn." he took a step forward.

"My lord?" he anticipated his instructions.

"Let our strongest Ravens fly." he quickly turned and returned to his tower to carry out his mission while others muttered and murmured and whispered their concerns among themselves while Raeghun's attention went to Berin.

"Ensure that our equipment is adequate, in numbers and quality." Berin nodded, and then followed as the lord guided Stannis into the Hall of Fire to tend to the request in the armoury.

"You must have had a hard journey, to come see us personally." Raeghun mentioned, finding it out of place that they did not simply send a raven; but perhaps it was thought that he would turn down the call.

"The road has been tiresome, but Robert insisted. And I would appreciate a warm meal and a soft bed for a night. But then I must return to my station with first light, our fleet is anchored off the Shield Islands while preparations are being made." he agreed, and paused to look at Raeghun again.

"Have you any notions on how to proceed?" he asked, as to no surprise. A strict military mind, always calculating; always planning. And Raeghun put a moment's thought into his own.

"Lord Foch is our coast overseer and steward of the Corridor's fleet, he has a count of forty ships at our westernmost port in Boatwright, galleys and flagships. I will have instruction given that one third remains along the west shore to protect the country, the rest will make for the south to meet yours. In the interim I will need one week to assemble my men and have all prepared before riding to join the rest of the inland forces." he said while Stannis stared at him. It was difficult to make out if this proposal met him as positive, or negative.

"One week?" he asked again, and Raeghun glanced away from him. My men would ride through the night, if they had to...

"Perhaps less, if we are favoured." he added, and then the man next to him nodded; accepting the choices.

"Very well." his attention went to a lady dressed in iris purple with a black embroidered grey centre piece approaching; and she greeted him with a curtsy.

"Good day, lord Stannis." he nodded.

"Lady Claira." he regarded her slowly, his eyes piercing and hard; it made her feel uncomfortable, something that her husband could sense.

"My sweet, please have a chamber prepared for lord Stannis." he asked, and she eased stepping closer to him and wrapping her hands around his elbow.

"Of course, my love. We will have the Fern apartment ready within the hour." she confirmed, and Raeghun looked back at Stannis.

"Your company is welcome to my barracks." he invited, and Stannis glanced towards the great door, something bordering on satisfaction drawing his thin pale lips.

"My thanks." Claira's thoughts went to their choice for this evening's banquet, and wondered if anything was in need of alteration.

"Is there anything specific you would like our kitchens to serve for supper, my lord?" she asked, and his eyes came back to her.

"I'm not fastidious over food, I'll eat whatever is given. But I would prefer to sup in my quarters, and have an early evening. We ride at dawn, tomorrow." he said, and she nodded.

"Of course." then he looked at Raeghun again.

"If you'll pardon me, I'll see that my men have their instructions clearly." he said, then turned and left towards the door, while Claira and Raeghun watched him.

"He doesn't like me, does he?" she murmured softly, and Raeghun chuckled.

"Stannis doesn't much like anyone. He tolerates others because they're alive. But his quittance comes from his sense of loyalty and duty; he would sever his right thumb if his king commanded it of him. And he has a scaled mind for justice." Then he looked down at her.

"He might not be blithesome, but he is a good man." he said with a smile before calling the attention of a squire, sturdy and helpful; assigning him as guide and aid to lord Stannis whenever he is in need of something from their hold. Slowly, night settled over the castle and as proposed the visiting lord was not seen again; retreating to the solitude of the Fern apartment in the east wing as soon as it was available. A tray with a serving was sent to the guest's chamber whilst the members of the hold feasted on roast lamb with spiced potato, sweet carrots, field peas and cauliflower along with ale and sweet wine before taking their leave for their chambers. Milla walked down the long hallway to their chamber with Mandeline at her side, and Bella in her arms already asleep while her nurse talked away happily of the enjoyment she found here; especially taken by their cook's talent. Then the darkwood door of the Fern apartment opened as they passed it, and the stern face of lord Stannis Baratheon appeared.

"You there, girl." he drew their attention, and Milla stopped looking at him.

"Is there anything you need, lord Stannis." his dark blue eyes glanced down the long hallway, and then came back at her.

"It seems my aid has run off. Bring a pitcher of spring water." he instructed sending a flow of acid down Milla's back, he was indeed a hard and dark man. But she turned to Mandeline at her side.

"Mandeline, will you be so kind as to bring our guest's request to our kitchens?" she asked, and Mandeline returned a smile.

"Of course, my lady." she agreed, bringing ease to the young mother.

"Thank you. Have cook Jeody give you something of your choice, for your trouble." she granted, and Mandeline returned to the kitchen and Milla brought her attention back to him.

"My apologies, I did not realize you were a lady of the hold." he muttered softly, the glint of shyness in his striking eyes.

"It's al right. I don't believe we have officially met, I am lady Milla Trentin, court maiden to lady Claira." she introduced herself, to a curt nod when deep voices sounded from further down the hallway where Berin and Falgon approached.

"Ser Austinus will have command of the barracks and its routines, while the remaining sentinels will fall under your orders. But reflecting on our misadventure a few moons ago, you should not have any difficulties." she heard Berin say to the man next to him, who acknowledged his instruction.

"I will do what I can." he returned modestly, and Milla had to stifle a laugh. Will do what you can? I have been starting to believe, that there is nothing that you cannot do, ser... Berin's arm went around her waist the moment he reached her side, and he regarded the guest who'd been watching them.

"Good evening, lord Stannis. I hope you find your accommodation suitable." he greeted.

"It is satisfactory." he returned, passing a quick glance between Berin and Milla while Berin looked back at Falgon.

"Well then, fair evening to you." he said, and Falgon bowed his head to them.

"And to you, my lord and lady." he greeted them as Berin's attention came back to Stannis.

"Was there anything you needed, my lord?" he asked, noting that he had not retreated back into the chamber as yet.

"Just the water." he said, and Berin nodded.

"It will be delivered to you momentarily, my lord." Milla assured, feeling her child slightly stir in her arms and glanced down while her arms gently soothed her.

"Very well. Good night, lord Stannis." Berin greeted,

"And to you." he returned, and then the sentinel guided his wife further down the hallway, taking his daughter in his arms to hold her against his chest. Falgon watched them for a moment, growing smaller down the hallway and then brought his attention to the lord waiting in the doorway before bowing to him formally.

"Sleep well, lord Baratheon." he greeted, then turned and started back the way he came.

"I trust we will meet on the battle field." Stannis mentioned, and then he stopped and turned.

"I will be where I am ordered to be." he said, and the guest smirked calculating his talents.

"I've seen you in the tournament, close to a year ago. Someone of your skill, may be invaluable." he said, and Falgon smiled.

"As I've said. If I am ordered to battle, of course I will meet my foes bladed. If I am ordered to remain here, I will guard this hold and those within to my full extent." Stannis took a single step into the hallway, scanning the passage.

"Yet, I find it strange to see a mercenary among the trusted guards of a lord." he said.

"Like the pages of a book, that part has ended and I will not return to it. But I will confess, that I have been most fortunate." he saw the face lightening, the almost appeased glint of gratification in the dark eyes.

"Our kingdoms need more men of your standard..." he muttered softly, and then a serving girl came rushing down the hallway with a large pitcher filled with clear water, and presented it to Stannis,

"The water you asked for, m'lord." she said, and he motioned for her to replace the empty pitcher on the small table before the hearth. She exchanged the items, and left again quickly before he returned into the room.

"Sleep well, lord Baratheon." Falgon greeted a final time, and left down the corridor to retake his place and leave the rest of the hold to their sleep. With sunrise the well rested Baratheon company rode through the gate of Mount Ardor, and by late noon the first of the vassal banners – a great brown woolly mammoth with long curved tusks on a silver shield appeared over the green horizon, and lord Gerard Foch arrived with his two sons and one thousand, one hundred and twenty men. Mid morning the following day, the rams-head of lord Ernaldus Rames and his sons came with one thousand seven hundred men, and later that afternoon the violet and thorns banners of lord Florentius Violet with one thousand three hundred men blew in the breeze of the burning mountain, and the encampment around the sunstone keep grew with the count of two thousand eight hundred and seventy men from the domain of Mount Ardor itself, bringing their total numbers to six thousand nine hundred and ninety strong. The nobility was housed within the hold, spending much time in the Hollow planning their movements while the soldiers waited patiently in the fields to depart, and with all ready by the fifth day it was time to leave. It was decided with the current condition, the annual Horn Festival would be deferred as well. Raeghun sat in the Hollow, staring at the maps that were brought there for their planning and listening to the throws of suggestions from those around him. All had given their thoughts, and it was an ongoing debate on whether to thin out their power and leak into the enemy; or to "fist-up-and-hammer-down" as lord Foch's eldest son Garrett so spiritedly called it. Then he looked up at a sentinel guarding the doorway.

"Derric, have my wife summoned to me." This was his last choice, and the sentinel left the hollow while some of the younger lords stared at Raeghun.

"Begging your pardon, my lord. But to ask advice on war from a woman-" the youngest in the room started, to be silenced by the burn of their liege.

"She is my wife. I may ask her advice on anything, from battle to flower bouquets." he told, followed by the thundering bellow of lord Foch, and another few sniggers around him.

"You forget whom is father to our lady of the hold, boy. Lord Willmon Tormont of Pale Haven, the Grey Tom. You have heard of his capabilities, I'm sure." he reminded, and the young one blushed ruby red before looking away. Moments later she entered with Derric following.

"You asked for me, my lord?" he nodded.

"I did." He glanced around the room.

"If there are any who have objection to this, take your leave." but no one moved, and then his attention went back to her.

"I want your advice. What must we do?" he asked, stunning her for a moment.

"My lord..." she started, but he smiled.

"Your father is a strategist, your brothers are strategists, you are a strategist. I want your advice." he said calmly, and she breathed placing a moment's thought to it and remembering long days in her father's library.

"My advice, as best I may give it, is to conserve your strength for as long as you find it possible to do so. The best offence, is a good defence, this much is true. Protect yourself, and wither your enemy before striking down on them with full force." she told, answered with agreement from most; and Raeghun looked down at the map in front of him.

"Lord Foch." the elder gentleman's attention went to him instantly.

"You and your sons will ride for Boatwright to launch our fleet. One third will remain along the west coast of the Corridor to shield our borders and our people, the rest will sail south to intercept any marauding Ironborn vessels and join the royal fleet which sails from the Shield Islands. The rest of the mass will ride south with myself to join the inland armies." he ordered as he stood.

"We leave with first light on the morn." he gave his final order, and the others stood to leave on their last preparations, then Raeghun approached Claira, still standing where she was and his eyes met hers.

"Thank you, for your advice. I will adhere to it as best I can, but I know there are some that may find it a bit restrictive." he said, and her arms went around his neck feeling her heart ache under bitter thoughts. But she had to trust his men, she had to trust his sentinels, she had to trust him. Then she felt his arms circle her, and he held her tightly.

"I know you're scared, this has come on us very suddenly and our home is in line with their area of attack. But you will be protected, your sentinels will keep you safe." he tried to soothe her, but her arms constricted around him.

"I know they will. I'm not afraid..." she lied. No, not a complete lie. She was scared, but not for herself or their home. The fear that this could be the last night they have together was real to her, and it was terrifying. Centuries of war had come and gone, so many lost their lives and their families to them. Countless left widowed too early. But she endured.

That evening, Claira stood under the cover of her fountain watching the water sparkle in the light of a full moon that glinted through the openings of the chiselled canopy. Keep my family safe; my blood and my name and all those who serve under us and stand under our protection. Guide us and greet us with a new sunrise. She dropped a single rose petal of blood red into the water as offering, and then looked up at the face staring back at her, and could find a sense of peace. Strong, warm hands ran down her arms from her shoulders, and tender lips branded a kiss on her neck.

"At least now, I know where to find you when you vanish." Raeghun teased in a whisper, and she smiled bringing her hand up to his face. The handmaidens had been dismissed, and the door to the lord's wing shut for the night. She turned, and again placed her arms around his powerful bare shoulders while he held her, clothed only in breeches.

"I don't want you to go..." she breathed against him, and his arms tightened pressing her firmly to him.

"I know. I don't want to go, I have to." he justified, and she fought against the agony. There was no way to bring him closer to her.

"I know..." But it didn't change it. It didn't change that she wished he would stay, wished that there was some way to make him stay.

"You haven't summoned the total power of the Corridor, either." she mentioned, and felt the soft motions of his shoulders rising and falling.

"The Ironborn are relentless people, but not a formidable military unit. I don't think our entire force is needed. I must still provide protection for our own people as well, distractions like these are ideal opportunities for raids and pillages from all manner of other sources." she looked up at him, at the bright blue of his eyes, seeing no fear, and she could find it in her to smile. He was his father's son, spirit of the great phoenix. Powerful, gallant and unintimidated by what he faced. She pulled back, her arms constricting and bringing his lips to hers in a deep, lingering kiss that she wished would never end as his right hand came up into her hair and held her firmly against him. Her hands slid down his chest and stomach, her fingers sliding under the fabric of his breeches before his lips broke from hers in a chuckle.

"Right here?" he whispered, and she smiled whimsically, sliding the flange over his hips.

"This is our sanctuary. I may have you anywhere." she said simply, and he captured her mouth passionately as his hands released her from the dress that shielded her and they settled on the soft grass, amidst sweet smells, calm air and a clear sky above them. Claira savoured her husband, absorbing everything about him, everything he was. The taste of his lips to hers, the touch of his fingers against her skin, the smell of his body covering her, the shine of black hair between her fingers and the blue eyes merging with her, the soft utterances of his voice against her throat, the gentle motions of his muscles moving in rhythm as her knees brought him closer. His strength, his energy, his courage; and the burn of his flames released into her core as she cried against his shoulder in rapture, and they eased under the cool breeze, deeply breathing in the calmness it brought. Holding his still shuddering mass against her, her eyes opened to see the face that watched over them, and then her gaze went up to the full moon above them surrounded by bright stars, just like his warmth that enveloped her entirely. Then he drew back, supporting himself on his elbows and ran his fingers down her cheek as he stared at her.

"I love you..." he whispered, still breathless. She smiled, placing her hands to his face.

"I love you." he kissed her again, slowly and gently as his hand softly traced down the curve of her body and her desire for him ignited again; pulling him closer before he withdrew from her.

"We should head inside. The men have an early start tomorrow." he suggested, and she sighed laying her head down on the grass and cursing time for not slowing for her.

"Al right...'' he stood, and then helped her to her feet before they both headed to the bath chamber to cleanse and retired to the softness of their bed, and they surrendered to sleep in the safety of each other's arms; but two hours later she woke with a start, recalling the last thing from her dream being her own horrifying hollow scream of despair. She forced several deep breaths into her chest, still feeling the sting of tears to her eyes as she stared at her husband, his back facing her as he'd turned over at some point. Please... Please... She stood and pulled her robe over her shoulders before pulling light slippers over her feet and silently made her way out of the lord's wing. As expected, the halls were vacant, and she could flit silently down to the barracks. Entering the Hall of Fire, she saw the light emitting from the arch leading to the guard's hall. Please... She moved forward down the flights of stairs, towards the light and paused for a moment, forcing yet another deep breath into her lungs before stepping forward into the hall and a sense of relief found her.

"Falgon... I hoped I would find you." he lay the book down, then stood and turned to bow to her.

"How will I serve, your grace?" he asked, and she walked to him.

"I need you to do something for me." he stared at her, his dark eyes attentive even underneath the shadows cast over his striking face.

"Anything, your grace. If it is within my power." he agreed, and she scoffed slightly.

"You're a man, Falgon. One of my strongest. Of course it is within your power." she pointed out to him, and he glanced away for a moment in modesty before his eyes returned to hers.

"I'm listening." he was waiting for his instruction, courteous as ever. She breathed in again, bringing her emotions under the control she had and leaned against one of the long tables.

"You are familiar with my plight?" he nodded, but said nothing. Many could find comfort in others, but the thought of having nothing, of having no one was as frightening as it was overwhelming.

"Raeghun is all I have. All that is truly mine. I want to give him everything... but I can't. You can understand the dire situation I find myself in. I suppose that Reaghun will realize it, but I don't care any more..." she started, and he listened intently as she spoke.

Berin entered the Hall of Fire from the outer bailey, ensuring that their final preparations had been made. The wagons stood ready, and the soldiers had their instructions, while the stable master had been ordered to have the horses saddled and waiting by sunrise. It was a long day, and even more awaited them; he felt tired but was not able to find any amount of peaceful sleep for the past two nights, but hoped that he might find it this night. His attention was caught by a figure suddenly storming from the barracks with her hands pressed over her face as she rushed up the stairs, back to the confines of the lord's wing while another tall mass darkened the doorway to the barracks watching her. He paused for a moment, feeling confused as it was strange that the lady of the hold would visit the guard's hall so close to midnight. He approached Falgon, still standing in the arch.

"What just happened?" he asked, and the sentinel looked down at him.

"Nothing, Berin." he breathed, sounding as thwarted as she had appeared a few moments past.

"That doesn't seem like nothing." he specified, but saw an easing smile to his friend's face.

"I'll tell you later. It's not important right now. You ride to war tomorrow." he reminded, and it struck into Berin's chest like the cut of an axe.

"It doesn't feel real..." he whispered, and looked away at the great hearth burning in the distance.

"Falgon, what is war like?" he asked, sounding different even to himself. He had never asked before,

"War is a terrible thing. In most instances, the losses are far greater than the gains." he told, leaving a bitterness surrounding them, but then when he felt his confidence start to leave him, the deep voice met him again.

"So, fight not for riches, or glory. Not for power or authority. Not for the king or his kingdom. Take up your sword to protect those precious to you, draw your blade to defend your family. That is when you are truly strong." Falgon said, bringing the bitter sting to a fierce blaze and he smiled looking up at his friend.

"Was it your mother that told you that?" Berin asked, renewed in his spirit.

"My father, when he presented me with our family's great sword." he recalled, and then turned to head back into the hall.

"Go, find your rest. Dawn will not wait." he urged, and Berin nodded.

"Good night." he greeted, and left to their chamber. He bathed, taking in the fresh scent of mint from the waters before returning to their room where Milla was already asleep, and Bella lay in her large rounded crib under white drapery surrounded by her fleecy blankets and a flat silk pillow, awake but not disturbed as she was jiggling a rag doll fashioned of soft cotton fabric, with strands of brown woollen hair and adorned with a jade green dress and faded yellow sash, made by the baker's wife in Garde's Post, who was a gifted woman when it came to dolls. Berin smiled and went to her, the bright eyes meeting his instantly.

"Can't sleep either, eh?" she reached for him, and he picked her up, holding her securely against his chest as he walked to their bed and lay down, resting his back against the headboard. He spoke softly, telling her stories of old heroes for a while, until she started to softly whimper waking his wife from her sleep and she flexed, bringing her hand to her face drowsily.

"She slept longer than usual..." she mentioned softly, and Berin glanced down as he soothed his daughter.

"She wasn't asleep, she was listening to a story." he smiled, and Milla sat up.

"I'll tend to her." she breathed, and Berin handed Bella gently to her.

"You may feed her, I'll do the rest." he eased, watching as Milla prepared herself opening the right side of her breast and bringing the little one close to nurse and she settled down. Milla lay her head against the wall behind their bed, feeling the tender motions to her skin. It was a pleasant feeling, warm and comforting. Then her eyes went to Berin next to her, still watching in loving enchantment.

"You should sleep, Berin." she urged, and he nodded.

"I will. Right after I see to it that she is asleep." he promised, and a short time of silence followed as they just took in one another's presence, the calm peace and love of their company. Finally quenched from her mother's milk, Bella turned her head away with a slight whimper, and Berin held his hands for her.

"Give her to me." and Milla released her into his care. He stood and walked about the room for a while, holding her to his shoulder and gently tapping her back to alleviate the discomfort from her stomach which came in a stuttered reflex, but he laughed before heading to a small table in the corner to discard the linen cloth around her hips and replacing it with a clean one. He came back to bed, and lay down with her against his shoulder, his fingers softly stroking her tiny back and humming the mother's hymn. Milla smiled, laying a hand on his thigh.

"You're good at this." she whispered, and he returned her gaze.

"I try to be. I want to be better." he said, again facing the opposite wall and her fingers pressed down on his skin.

"My Berin, you are the best for us. And that is enough." she said, and he again brought his eyes to hers in a shy laugh.

"Thanks." he muttered, and continued to hum the tune until all that came from Bella were easy cadent breaths before standing again and laying her down in her crib and covering her with a light blanket, and returning to bed.

"Is everything al right?" Milla asked softly as he lay down, facing the wood cap of their chamber.

"Yes, she's asleep." then he heard her chuckle softly.

"That's good. But I meant you." he breathed in deeply, and then looked at her.

"I'm fine. I feel better now than I did a while ago." he said, and she rose slightly, supported on her left arm.

"Did something happen?" she sounded anxious, but he managed to laugh.

"Nothing in particular. Just a few words of wisdom, from a good friend." he said, feeling her fingertips run down the length of his stomach.

"Which were?" he thought back to the deep voice, surrounding him in the light emitting from the guard's hall.

"Fight not for riches, or glory. Not for power or authority. Not for the king or his kingdom. Take up your sword to protect those precious to you, draw your blade to defend your family. That is when you are truly strong..." he quoted him, again feeling stronger and she smiled.

"Falgon said that, didn't he?" she assumed, and his arm went around her.

"He did." she lay down against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"That sounds like something he would say..." she whispered as her arm coiled around his waist.

"Berin, do you think Raeghun is scared?" she suddenly asked, and a short pause followed as he thought.

"No. Raeghun doesn't get scared. He recognises the need for caution, but he's never afraid." he looked down, taking in the glint of her soft hair.

"Even from very young, with any kind of confrontation, he stands his ground. But I think when he killed the lion, it drove all fear from him. He thinks about his people a lot, and I believe that his courage will drive our men forward." he said, and then she looked up so their eyes would meet.

"You'll watch over each other. You'll bring each other home?" then he smiled.

"Of course." he leaned forward and kissed her, then turned to cover her body with his.

Claira wandered about the chamber, wishing that time would stop. She spent a period of time on the balcony, just watching their eastern fields, the many small lights that dotted the countryside and listening to the rush of Blazewater Bay far below them. Then she returned inside, standing in front of their hearth while she finished a goblet filled with sweet rose wine; and finally feeling slightly happier and a little light-headed she returned to their bed, laying down beside Raeghun and for a time just watched him sleeping where he lay on his back, his face still turned away from her. Then her hand came up to him, and her fingertips softly traced the contours of his powerful chest and defined muscles, slowly moving down to his thighs to feel him and a momentarily mad thought came to her. Would he be angry with me...? She raised herself and mounted him, carefully sliding herself over him and felt his strength reach deep inside of her as she moaned. She moved slowly above him with her hands resting on his chest, taking in the sensation of him and closed her eyes wanting that it would linger. Then warm hands took hold of her arms and pulled her down into a deep kiss as strong fingers glided into her hair.

"If this is a dream... You're in trouble when I wake up." he whispered as his eyes opened, marvellous in their clear and burning blue, but she smiled.

"It's not a dream, but I won't mind being in a little bit of trouble with you." she replied, and again closed her lips to his while running her fingers along his arms to his hands where her fingers locked with his, and raised them above his head where she held them against the pillows for a moment as she moved before he escaped her grip and brought his hands to her back, feeling her motions slowly increase until they both uttered in delight and she melted onto him before retaking her place at his side where his strong arms held her. But the tremor would not cease completely.

"What's wrong?" she pressed her cheek to the warmth of his chest.

"I am afraid..." his arm tightened around her.

"Don't worry. Three of our ships will watch over the bay, sixty of our guard will remain to hold the castle and the nearby village; and Falgon stays behind with Gavin and Wymon, he will protect you. They will keep you and Milla safe." he eased, but she looked up at him.

"I am afraid you won't come back..." she told, but he smiled holding her against him.

"My Claira, I will always come back to you. Always. It doesn't matter how far I need to run, or climb or swim; and it doesn't matter how long it takes me." he lay his head against her brow.

"I will always come back to you." he promised, and she held him desperately, like he was the one thing that kept her on this world and if she let him go, she would drift away into nothingness, warm tear drops merging with the dew off his skin. But she found peace then, and succumbed to sleep for another three hours, at some point having turned her back to him and he held her closely to the form of his body, swallowed and protected by his heat. She stirred to the touch of his lips to her neck, and the rousing of his fingers slowly gliding up her hip and side, over her shoulder and down the length of her spine, then she turned her face towards his whispering his name before he moved forward pressing her to the bed and bringing his knees between hers, his mouth burning across her shoulder and down her back as his hands took hold of her hips and drew her up, positioning her legs to his. Then he moved forward again, reaching under her to pull her paunchy pillow under her before he rose above her. She gasped sharply as her hands stained into the bedding, his warmth flooding her again and summoning a series of pleasant whimpers and soft cries from her chest with each motion that brought him closer, and as she softly wailed feeling her muscles spasm he finally filled her with his bloodline yet again with a contented groan before easing and laying down on her, covering her with his heat and burying his face in her neck while his hand found hers and their fingers locked, breathing hard.

"I love you. Nothing I do or say, will ever be enough to show you how much..." he breathed against her, and she felt a crack in her heart. But she relished this, and her fingers tightened in his while they spent this time like this, calming as the last of early morning disappeared. In the peace before sleep claimed her again, she felt him move and his mouth branded a kiss on her shoulder.

"I should get up." she looked towards the balcony door, registering a still black sky with bright stars.

"I wish you wouldn't. It's still dark." she turned facing him.

"I know. But the earlier we start-" her hands went to his face.

"Please stay with me. Just a little bit longer... Please..." he regarded her and then sighed, laying down on her again, his cheek resting on her breast.

"Just a little bit." he agreed as his hands slid under her shoulders, and her arms went around his neck, the fingers of her right hand stroking his hair that glinted like black gold. But too soon, the haze of purple that brought the dawn was visible on the horizon and she had to release him. He took brown breeches, black boots, a white tunic, the deep orange quilted doublet and his black cloak with the gold and ruby pin while along with her side-laced corset and under dress she chose a free fitting gown of ruby velvet with silver flower detailing embroidered to the neckline and elbows above wide elegant sleeves, and a waistband of pearl and garnet to hug her hips; and flat brown slippers. She accompanied him to the bath chamber where they bathed, and she even helped him dress before attending to her own appearance and he returned the favour. She brushed out her hair, allowing it to hang freely down her back, and then hung the beautiful phoenix pendant her husband had given her for her name day around her neck. She wanted every moment with him, up until the instant they left through the gate of the burning mountain... and again wished that time would at least slow if it could not stop. They made their way through the lord's hall where he stopped in front of the hearth, looking up at the sword on the shelf, taking in the long blade for a moment. Then he took it from its display and brought it down, holding it in his hands before sheathing the glimmering sword and looking at her, then holding it out to her.

"Would you do me the honour, my lady?" She slowly took it, for the first time being able to study the hilt clearly she saw that the pommel moulded from gold was the royal crest, the head with two tiny glinting black opal eyes, neck and breast of a phoenix with the wings spread out wide above the hold that was soft banded black leather, and the tail feathers curved out from underneath in elegant bends of gold plait to create the cross guard. She held it close to her for a moment, as if it were a child and then followed Raeghun out into the hallway, where two girls rushed up the corridor to meet them.

"I'm so sorry we're late, m'lord and lady." one breathed as they reached them.

"It's al right. Start on your chores, then." Raeghun instructed, and they swiftly entered the wing to proceed with its duties. They headed down the incline, and emerged into the Hall of Fire to meet the lords Foch, Rames and Violet in their colours, with Berin dressed in dark grey breeches, black boots, a faded tunic under a deep red jerkin and his cloak to his shoulders with the sentinels on the third level, along with Milla and Mandeline, holding Bella in her arms. Other members of the hold could be seen rushing up and down on final alterations. Lord Rames was the first to notice them, bringing everyone's attention to Raeghun and Claira and they were greeted formally.

"Cook Jeody will be serving tomato soup along with bread and cheese for the men shortly, my lord." Milla advised, and Raeghun nodded.

"Good. Has everything else been prepared?" he asked, looking at Berin.

"Yes. If all fares well, we might be able to leave earlier than planned." he said, and Raeghun moved forward, the rest following towards the feast hall.

"That is good to hear." he said, but Claira remained where she was regarding them. How majestic they all looked. Then with a start she noticed a great figure beside her, and she turned to the smiling face of lord Gerard Foch.

"Good morning, my lady. I hope that your favour, follows us all." he said, and then formally bowed to her again as he took her hand and brought her fingertips to his mouth.

"I will pray for the safe return of all our people, lord Foch." she promised, then he gently squeezed her fingers before leaving to join the rest of the men in the hall; then Milla came to stand beside her, dressed in a gown of moss green with low shoulders and gold embroidering, and wide gauzy green sleeves; and her hair braided over her left shoulder.

"How are you feeling? Another restless night?" she asked, trying to comfort her.

"I'm al right. I might calm down a bit when things settle here." she said softly, watching the many soldiers and guards pass them. No one attempted to retrieve Quill from her. Then she heard maester Adlyn's voice coming down the incline, next to a young boy already clad in leather armour, a steel short sword at his side, carrying a large wood crate.

"Everything you may need on the road is in there. But try to take care with it, there are items that may shatter if suffering a hard knock." he advised, and the boy nodded.

"I will store it with the bedding furs, it should be safe with that." he decided, and the maester nodded as the boy made his way further down the steps to the outside, while maester Adlyn took a place beside Claira.

"It seems that the men are in high spirits." he reported, and she turned towards him.

"Maester, I'm a little bit confused..." she started, and he instantly knew as he regarded the sword in her hands.

"Oh, yes. No one has told you. It is tradition for the lady of the hold to imbue the lord's sword, before leaving for battle." he explained, and she stared at him suddenly feeling strange.

"Imbue the sword?" he smiled, motioning for them to head further down the stairways.

"Yes. Whatever energy is passed, will be absorbed by the blade and taken to war as favour. Quite like a good-luck charm. Many have sworn that this is the reason for either victory, or defeat in battle." he clarified as they walked, but she stopped suddenly realizing the importance of such a simple action. How much it would mean to the men. And if there was anything she could do for them, anything at all she wanted to do it, and wanted to do it well; so she gripped the sword tighter in her hands and against her breast, willing her desire for them all to come home safely to seep into the steel, and continued down the stairs. In front of the great hearth stood the tallest of their sentinels, again watching the flames.

"Good morning, ser." Maester Adlyn greeted him, and he turned bowing to them.

"Good morning, maester. Lady Milla." then his eyes met hers.

"Your grace." she was still vexed with him, although she knew it couldn't be helped.

"Shouldn't you join the rest of the company?" Milla asked, and he glanced away.

"I will be here, until the men leave. Or I am otherwise needed." he assured, and Milla nodded. They proceeded further down the hall, but again Claira stopped.

"Go on. I will meet you in a moment." she said, and watched them make their way towards the hall before turning back to Falgon, still watching her.

"I'm sorry." he said softly, and all the irritation she felt dissolved.

"It's al right. It won't happen, whether I want it or not." she said, and then glanced at the arch to the southern hall, where the men were starting to break their fast and great cauldrons filled with a bright red liquid were hauled outside along with baskets of cheese and bread.

"It does give me a sense of relief, though." she said finding it in her to smile, and looked back at him, returning the same gentle gesture.

"Then I am at ease." he said,

"I assume you will find me later." he nodded, and she turned to join the rest of their people where she took her place next to Raeghun, and watched the hall. A serving was brought to her as well, but it was left untouched with the pardon that she was not hungry, but might finish it later; and with the hue of orange on the horizon the men left the hold for their horses. The sentinels, the soldiers and the lords mounted while Raeghun and Berin spared a moment longer with their families on the stairs leading into Mount Ardor. Berin brushed the soft hair of his daughter's brow, smiling warmly.

"Keep momma company for me." he told, and she reached for him, taking hold of his finger with a force frightful for someone yet so small. But he laughed, and leaned down kissing her cheek as she softly started to mewl, and Mandeline offered to soothe her. Raeghun stood in front of Claira, and then held his hand to retrieve his sword. She glanced at the hilt for a moment, thinking of a last moment to leave her will with it, and softly placed her lips to the cross guard in a sweet kiss before handing the blade to her husband; who smiled brightly.

"I'm sure he enjoyed that." she blushed, and he gave the sword to a squire to fasten it to the saddle of his waiting horse. Berin's hand went to Milla's cheek, and he placed his mouth to her brow tenderly, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"I will return to you." he promised her once again, and she forced a smile under her breath.

"You always do..." but this time, the words felt harder to say. Strained, if yet hopeful and her arms went around his shoulders.

"You have to be strong for me." Raeghun whispered against Claira's cheek where he held her face between his palms.

"I'll try." she breathed as her fingers strained into the fabric covering his chest, and then he kissed her, truly and deeply for all to see, lingering in the last moments they would share.

"I love you." she again said, her hands resting against his chest.

"I love you." his lips moved against her brow, and then he was gone. His fingers slipping away from her skin, and she watched in silent torment as he walked away with Berin following, then mounted his great black warhorse, the hilt of Quill ready for his hand in front of his left knee. Their eyes met a final time, and then he turned his horse around and started to lead their warriors to the gate; but her heart broke. Piece by piece along with each link of chain that willed her to remain where she was with each heavy step his horse took, and she felt soft hands on her shoulders. But as he neared the gate, she slipped from the grasp and ran forward, calling his name. He stopped and looked back to see her come towards him, then spared a fleeting glance at Berin beside him.

"Take the lead." he instructed, and Berin continued to lead their men through the gate as Raeghun dismounted and faced his wife evenly, her weight colliding with him with force enough to drive him a single step back as her arms went round his waist; and his circled her.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." she breathed miserably against him, but he comforted her.

"It's al right." he held her tightly, and looked up at the tall figure waiting on the steps; someone with a bit more strength than Milla and he came forward.

"I must go, now." he whispered.

"I know. I know... I just..." she held him tighter, and then strong hands gently rested on her shoulders as Raeghun looked up.

"Watch over her for me." Falgon nodded.

"I will." he promised, and Raeghun pulled back from her and mounted again, riding through the gate to join the front of their forces as she watched his form grow smaller, and then she turned as her sentinel guided her back to the hold, and she decided to further watch the departure of their force from the crown of the sun tower. Reaching the steps she turned back, but he was no longer in sight and she turned to Milla.

"Will you come with me?" she asked, and Milla nodded turning to Mandeline to retrieve Bella.

"You may take the rest of the day to yourself, I will call you if needed." she allowed, and they made their way back into the hold with their sentinels following, through the Hall of Fire and up the many steps that led to the crown of the Sun Tower, and they watched a river of black flow across the land to the south, a smaller group breaking off to the west towards their port at Boatwright. Please... Please keep them safe... She glanced at Milla at her side.

"Milla, you remember what we used to do as children, when we felt scared or alone?" she asked.

"Of course I do. But there are no trees here." she reminded, and Claira turned.

"No, there may not be. But there is something just as well." she mentioned, taking Milla's hand and leading her down to the lord's wing where they entered the private garden and Milla stared at the beautiful fountain, the wonder of it leaving her paralysed for an instant.

"This is amazing..." she stared at the face, so powerful, so wise, almost celestial... familiar although nameless.

"Raeghun had it made for me." Claira said with a soft smile, coming back with two brightly coloured flowers held in her hands, holding one for her friend.

"And the face?" Milla couldn't bring her eyes away from it, and Claira looked at it.

"His father's." Milla took the flower, and they knelt in front of the wide basin while together they prayed, begging the favour of their gods to cast their protection and to bring their loved ones safely home.

Raeghun watched as the soldiers marched on, all with spears and swords and shields and ringing armour, each in stride with the man next to him with the banners of Taugere, Rames and Violet above them. And then, far on the horizon on the highest hill, the glint of his home in the sun. Keep them safe for me...

"Your wife is connected to you, lord Taugere." he turned again to meet the face of lord Rames's youngest son Boghardt; also the adolescent of their noble company. The same face that blushed ruby red the day past. He was a pleasant youngster, but a bit chesty.

"Since our wedding day, I have not been absent from her side for more than a week on counsel. With the current situation, I believe you may find a bit of understanding for her reaction." he mentioned, and Boghardt glanced down.

"My apologies, my lord. I meant no disrespect." he pardoned himself quickly, and Raeghun managed to grin confidently.

"See that you keep it that way." he said, and spurred his horse to an easy canter to assume his place at the front of the column, while the boy was left watching him. He had always admired the lords of flame, but because he was the youngest he wasn't always met with the same respect as his peers. If there was one thing he wished for, it was the approval of the Taugere family as much as his own father's. But on occasion, he had heard the whispers of the north witch; and he found himself wondering if it was true. Raeghun was an excellent example of strength and bravery, but when he was in her presence he changed completely from what he was told of the line of the Ardent Kings.

"I would advise that you keep your tongue to yourself when it concerns lady Claira. Lest you want it displayed with a banner somewhere." Berin said as he passed the young lord, and he scoffed.

"Will you take it from me?" he asked, and Berin smiled.

"I could. But I won't take as much pleasure in it. The last person who disrespected our lady didn't get off that easily." he mentioned, and Boghardt looked away from him.

"It wasn't my intention to disrespect them. I just find the lord's change in her presence... odd." he muttered, and Berin knew to which tale his mind went. He had heard them before as well.

"There is no change. He loves his wife, and is proud to have her; so he's not afraid to show it. She is no magical being, she has no control over others. Despite her extraordinary appearance, her influence comes from her heart; and it has been nothing but a blessing to our country. You may share that, with your gossiping friends." he said, and his horse moved forward to follow his friend to the front of their forces while the youngster thought on the words he'd been left with, and his horse cantered comfortably on to the next hill where Raeghun again stopped to watch over his men.

"We're making good time, and the wagons are keeping pace. I believe we may expect to reach Seagard before noon on the 9th day." Berin reported as Raeghun watched the marching masses.

"That is good. I hope for this to be over soon." Raeghun sighed as he looked up to the sky, taking in the high clouds and clear blue before his eyes came to his friend.

"So, let us meet it." he shared with a grin, and they moved forward to the front of the mass to lead their people to the inevitable onslaught as days of progress from sunrise to twilight came and went between camps; and as predicted the high walls and towers of the port city named Seagard came into view over the horizon by morning on the 9th day and their arrival was met with a considerable degree of gratitude from lord Jason Mallister who was overseeing their masons and carpenters preparing the walls for any attacks, and many soldiers hovering about. The kindly overseer of the city approached them as Raeghun and Berin dismounted from their steeds, followed by their company, and he extended a hand to Raeghun. He was a tall, lean man with brown hair. But despite their current standing, his fierce blue-grey eyes found them with friendliness; and his gaunt, chiselled face welcomed them smiling under high cheekbones.

"Lord Raeghun Taugere, thank you." he said as they met, and Jason's attention went to those behind Raeghun.

"To you, and your men." he added, and Raeghun nodded.

"Thank you, for your welcome my lord; although it might have been preferred to be under different circumstances." he said, and looked towards the working people.

"Have there been any attacks here?" he asked, and Jason looked back following his attention.

"Not directly, no. But we have heard from some of the lesser folk of grey ships sailing in and out along the coastline." he informed, and Raeghun thought for a moment.

"The villagers haven't made for the city, yet?" Jason breathed slowly.

"Many don't want to abandon their homes. I've sent the men I can spare to defend the settlements, but it's been a stretch." he confessed, and then Raeghun turned calling one of his vassals forward.

"I'll leave a quarter of my men at Seagard under command of lord Rames as your support, and position the rest to protect the coastal villages. We'll move forward in waves as our foes are pushed back." he decided, bringing another smile from the lord in front of him.

"Your aid in our defence will not be forgotten, lord Raeghun." he promised, and Raeghun nodded with a smile before returning his attention to lord Ernaldus Rames beside him.

"You and your sons will remain here with your men, and assist in Seagard's defence in any way you are able to; while the rest of our company lines the shore. We hold the coast, and then advance when the opportunity rises. When needed, I will call upon you." he instructed, and Ernaldus agreed before turning back to Jason.

"With lord Mallister's permission, our men will take their rest here before riding again at first light." he suggested, and Jason turned.

"Of course. But I'm afraid with our current efforts, I don't have much to offer." he said as he started to lead them inside, but received a kind thanks.

"Anything will be appreciated, albeit a soft bed for a night. Thank you, my lord." and then Raeghun turned, his brightly burning blue eyes meeting those of the man to his left.

"When the battle is won, perhaps we may share happier times, lord Jason." he gestured, and Jason chuckled hopefully.

"I hope so, lord Raeghun. I truly hope so." he agreed as they retreated inside, leaving the men to tend to the care of the horses and supplies; finding what comfort they could and an easier night before the planned departure. Some time after sunset, Raeghun sat in the chamber he had been offered, small but comfortable with a fur bed and two chairs on a carpet alongside a small table on which his serving of the evening meal awaited his attention. Stuffed quail with spinach and pumpkin; and although it looked inviting he didn't feel like eating. A knot in his stomach made it difficult to take in anything of substance. A knock on the door made him look up from the blade in his hands, pausing his activity of oiling the steel.

"Enter." he invited, and the door opened slightly revealing two hands holding horns, each filled with dark ale followed by the face of his friend as he stepped through and closed the door behind him.

"Compliments of lord Mallister." he gestured, raising one of the horns slightly and placing it on the table as he sat down on the chair opposite from Raeghun.

"Even in times like these, he is a fine host." Raeghun praised as he took the horn and brought it to his mouth. Berin glanced at the full plate left on the table.

"You really should eat something." he urged as Raeghun replaced the horn on the table and continued working the sword with a soft cloth.

"I will." he promised as his hand glided easily over the steel and Berin watched him as he worked, and then grinned.

"Careful, you may wipe your wife's favour from our campaign." he teased, but Raeghun smiled back.

"That is impossible, my friend. My Claira's influence is much too strong." he corrected him, and then Berin reached out his hand.

"May I?" Raeghun held the hilt out to him, taking another mouthful of ale and Berin's hand wrapped around the grip, bringing the sword to him and then held it with both hands, rising the blade in front of him and stared at it in awe.

"This sword is amazing..." he muttered as he examined it in a state of wonder. How the soft leather conformed to the shape of his hand for a strong hold; and how the blade glittered in the light of the candle on the table, like it was covered in a thin layer of frost. He brought his hand up to the edge, feeling its sharpness; and it was cold to the touch. Colder than what was normal. The reflection smiled at him... almost as if the sword was alive.

"Well, in any case. If you shine this edge any further, you can always just blind our enemies." he further joked, and they shared a laugh.

"The arm of my house..." Raeghun breathed with pride, and then glanced away.

"However, I would very much like to know what ever happened to Blackwing's cloak." he mentioned, and Berin looked at him.

"Baderon Taugere?" he asked, and Raeghun nodded bringing the horn closer again.

"That's the one." he confirmed, and Berin lowered the sword.

"If it existed, it was likely lost if it wasn't buried with him." he assumed, handing the sword back to Raeghun.

"The Ardent Tombs were searched many times, no one has ever found it." Raeghun told as he took the sword, and Berin sat back taking his horn again.

"You truly believe it?" he asked, and Raeghun sighed.

"I do. It might not have been literal phoenix feathers, but it must have seemed grand in any instance." he said, staring at the blade. At the frost blue eyes that stared back.

"How do you suppose our people are holding up back home?" he asked, and Berin looked up at the cap of the chamber, having to look away from his friend. His mental state was the way it always had been; tall, proud, brave, strong, all the greatness of his line's nobility... but for the longing in his clear blue eyes.

"I'm sure they're just fine. They're in the safest place they could be." he assured, and then Raeghun looked at him.

"Oh, I don't have any doubts about that." he smiled, and drank again. Berin looked at the horn in his hand, the dark foam ringed liquid. He missed Milla, and Bella; but could imagine that the current situation might have been a little more challenging for Claira. Their lord and lady up until this had no reason for a lengthy separation from one another, and most matters that required personal attendance in the Corridor never required more than a few days at most, and typically not of unsafe nature. And further to that, she was all he had.

"We'll be back soon, I'm sure of it." Berin encouraged, bringing the horn to his mouth again as he watched Raeghun sheathe the great sword.

"I will hope for that. But for now, our focus must be on the uprising. Our goal will be to hold the coast from their advance, and close in as they retreat back to their shitty little island. Without being able to steal from others, they won't have the resources to uphold their progression. That is our priority." he said, and then emptied the horn. Berin stood as he placed his down on the surface of the table.

"The men have their orders. Everything will be ready with dawn." he said, and then turned.

"Good. Sleep well, Berin." Raeghun lay the sword against the wall, and Berin again glanced at the plate.

"And you, Raeghun. Eat something." he urged a final time, meeting his friend's smile.

"I will." he again promised, and Berin left his room for his own. Raeghun managed to finish half the portion he'd been brought, and then lay down on the soft bed and relinquished himself to sleep, where he dreamed of his wife sweetly whispering soothing comforts to him until he woke before dawn, and proceeded to prepare himself for the journey ahead. They met in the serving hall to break their fast on boiled eggs, bread, cheese, sweet grain and goat's milk along with fresh grape press before departing for the waiting steeds outside where Raeghun mounted his black warhorse, with Berin at his side and his men waiting. He looked down to see lord Jason Mallister, whom had come to see them off.

"Good fortune to you, lord Raeghun. You and your men." he extended a hand, and Raeghun took it in a friendly gesture.

"And to you, lord Jason." then he moved forward, signalling for his warriors to follow; and they set off under a crimson sunrise with the lord of Seagard watching as they left. What an austere man...

Within days of their departure, the war galleys started to make their way over the calm waters of the Sunset Sea. Lord Foch's great battle ship The Honey Horn under command of his eldest Garrett drifted in Blazewater Bay; a sizeable barge of two hundred men. For some weeks, Claira would stand watching the torchlight flicker off the deck from the window of the lord's chamber before going to bed, convincing herself that as long as the ship lay dormant in the bay below everyone would be fine. That their men would be safe. That her husband would come home. But the nights were long, and empty and cold in a lonely bed; and many times she would wake and not be able to find sleep again no matter how she called upon it. She found herself feeling tired and irritable during the days, that were not much shorter despite filling it with whatever she could. But some comfort she found in Milla and Bella, at one time she thought of having them stay with her in the lord's wing until their husbands returned, but let the notion go not wanting to disturb the comfort of their already fixed routine; leaving her circle bereft of familiarity. Today was overcast with high clouds, and the air was cool; but the atmosphere was calm and warm in the lady's common room filled with the soothing song of a pilgrim on his way home. Falgon sat comfortably on the stone floor with his back resting against the wall, one leg tucked in and the other in front of him as his fingers skilfully caressed the strings of a mahogany wood lute brought from the carpenters workshop in Garde's Post on Claira's request, his voice in song even sweeter than the most reputable bard who came to court. Since a fortnight ago, this became part of their daily activities. They would start their day like any other, and after sharing their morning meal in a much less occupied southern hall they would retreat to the safety of the lord's wing to pray under the weirwood fountain for blessings before attending to matters of the hold; and then spent the remainder of the days in the nearby fields on short rides with the sentinels in attendance, or passing their time in Claira's common room with embroidery, quilting, crochet or knitting while Falgon played for them; and she never grew tired of the song. It was hopeful and reassuring, much like a promise or a different form of prayer. Claira sat with Bella in her arms rocking gently in her chair while Mandeline visited the village with some other members of the hold, she had fallen asleep easily under the soft sounds emitting from the lute. Milla worked on a woollen shawl, moving subtly to the tune of the strings, and he found a way to lengthen the melody to extend over most of the late afternoon, for which Claira found herself dearly grateful that her sentinel did not fatigue of it as she watched him; how his hands glided over the lute strings with ease. The strongest of their order aside from her best friend's husband, who was capable of so much more. He looked up as the song ended, seeing her stare at him.

"Is something wrong, your grace?" he asked, and she shook her head smiling.

"No, not at all. Don't you get tired, or sore sitting like that?" she asked, having offered him one of her homely chairs, or at least a pillow. But he smiled back at her.

"No, your grace. I find it quite comfortable." he promised, and then Milla looked up as well.

"This song is lovely, you are truly talented. You've been with us for over a year, and I never knew you could play like that." she complimented.

"Thank you. I'm afraid I may have altered a few things, though." he mentioned, laying the instrument down, and moving to stand up.

"It doesn't matter. It's enveloping, all the same." Claira mentioned, and then looked down at Bella sleeping against her breast.

"Enough to send some off to sleep, it seems." she laughed, and then looked up as Mandeline entered the room with a small bouquet of flowers and a shy smile.

"Did you enjoy your visit to the village?" Milla asked, and the nurse blushed.

"Yes, thank you my lady. It was lovely." she said, glancing at the flowers.

"Gifts from an admirer?" Claira noticed the flowers in her hand, and her hand came up gently brushing the petals.

"Gavin gave them to me. He's been very kind." she blushed, and Claira and Milla glanced at one another, sharing the same thought. Then Mandeline came forward, holding her hands out.

"I'll take Bella for now if you wish, my lady. You must be tired." she offered, and Claira released her.

"Thank you. I should see that everything is in order with Jeody for tonight." she decided, giving the child to her nurse's care, who cradled her lovingly for a moment before departing to lay her down in her crib.

"I'll come with you." Milla offered, laying her knitting down on the armrest of her chair and standing. Claira rose to her feet, but as she stepped forward to make her way to the kitchen a sudden sense of dizziness took her, and she swayed; her hands going out to anything that was in reach to steady herself, finally finding a strong arm. The sudden dizziness faded, and she looked up at her sentinel beside her.

"Are you al right, your grace?" he asked as she found her footing once more.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. I believe I stood too quickly." she brushed it off, and he carefully moved back allowing her some breath, and her composure returned to her. They made their way down to the kitchens with the intent to approve Jeody's selection for the evening; although they would never refuse anything that went under his hands, before spending the remainder of the late afternoon in the garden watching the ships in the bay under a concealed sunset. As the garden torches were lit, a serving girl came to announce that supper will be served shortly, and they retreated back into the safety of the southern hall where they were served lamb, with sweet carrots, creamed cabbage and fava beans, alongside mead and a helping of brandy cake before lingering a few moments longer, sharing one another's company and comforts; and only then the hall was cleared and they returned to their chambers to take their rest for the evening. Claira dismissed the handmaidens and shut the door to the lord's wing for the night, and then lingered in the bath for as long as she could, allowing the water to spill across her massaging her body while she thought of him. Imagining his arms around her, and his warm lips to her skin. I miss you... so much... She fought against a tear, and then brought the warm water to her face to ease the sting. Then she cleansed herself and left the bath chamber in a light yellow gown to the lord's chamber where she went to the window to watch the galley in the bay, still where it was the day before. Small dots of yellow glowed on the surface of the water, revealing the ship's presence and she managed to smile, deciding there was no change yet. There was only two reasons that they would leave the bay; when they were called upon for aid or when the uprising was at an end, and Claira prayed for the latter. She stood there for a while, and then proceeded to lay herself down on the wide bed, stroking the pillow where his head should be and closed her eyes. Soon, my love... She spent hours just thinking of him, where he was and what he was doing, and mercifully sleep took her then. It was early morning that she stood on the rocky shore of the west, villagers idling about with nets and baskets; and then the sound of drums and a war horn tore through her; and the peasants made for safety. On the hill behind them, a wall of men waited with swords in hand, and Raeghun moved in front of them on his black steed, the brightness of flames around him which glowed so much brighter as he took Quill in his hand and raised it high above his head. She looked back to see black and grey ships appear out of a dark mist; and more and more soldiers stepped ashore, hooves and feet bounding forward to meet in a horrendous clash. Just as the bright sun wanted to peak its way through the dark mist and foggy clouds; blood shattered the lands around them as blades went through one another, filling the world with painful screams and frightening battle cries. They were fighting to save the ones they love... She woke with a start, breathing hard and then lay down again cursing the torments that pestered her. She looked at the sky through the window, it couldn't have been more than a few hours that she lay down. She closed her eyes again, but as she expected sleep would not come; so instead of lying in bed hoping for sleep and cursing it for not coming to her, she stood and pulled her robe over her shoulders to make her way to maester Adlyn's tower, which she found vacant. Then, on a whim she floated in silence down to the guard's hall where she found Falgon at his post.

"Falgon?" he stood and faced her with a bow.

"How will I serve, your grace." he asked as she came to him.

"I am sorry for bothering you." he smiled.

"You could never bother me." she blushed under a slight smile.

"Never?" his eyes were soft and understanding.

"Ever. In a million aeons." he assured,

"May I make a request?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Anything, your grace." she glanced at the arch.

"I'm finding it difficult to sleep, yet again. Will you play something for me?" he smiled gently.

"Of course." he followed her to her common room, where he assumed his place against the wall as she sat down in her chair.

"If it please you, your grace. May I try something different?" he asked, and she agreed. His fingers gently stroked the strings of the lute, emitting a soft and soothing melody; and she was taken by the gentleness of it. He did not sing this time, only caressed the instrument to bring forth yet another beautiful song; comforting more like a dream than a song and she closed her eyes as she found herself swept away in it until sleep all but took hold of her. A soft hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up at him.

"My pardon, your grace. But your bed may be a more fitting place to sleep." he suggested, and she moved forward rubbing her eyes.

"That was beautiful..." she complimented.

"'The Whispers of Ellune'. It was an old favourite." he told, and a thought came to her.

"What is your name?" she asked, and he stared at her in confusion.

"My name is Falgon, your grace." he reminded as if she had forgotten, but she shook her head.

"No, I meant your real name." she corrected, and he stood towering over her.

"Is it important?" he asked, still seeming puzzled as she stared at him.

"I would think so." she said, and he took a step back; the expression changing to one of rue as a short pause followed.

"If I told you, would you call me by that instead?" he asked softly.

"Would it not be preferable to be called by your birth name?" she countered, and then saw his lips rise in a small smile.

"I quite like the name you have given me." he said, and she had to laugh.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" she decided, and he shrugged.

"If I can help it, I would rather not return to my past." he said, and she felt the sudden sting of sorrow in her chest.

"What happened?" she regretted asking the moment the words left her lips, but he remained smiling.

"I had a wonderful life... and then it ended." he said, and her hands came to her chest unconsciously as she tried to drown the feeling.

"I'm sorry, Falgon." she whispered, and he turned slightly.

"It's al right. That time has passed." he eased, and she slowly stood to return to the lord's wing with him at her side, although she did not relish the notion of having to go back to the vast emptiness.

"I may not be able to bring him back, but I could suggest something that may ease you slightly." Falgon suddenly said, and she looked at him. Reserved as he was, he noticed many things; and she was hopeful for his advice.

"That would be nice." she turned towards him, allowing him her full attention.

"Take the thickest quilt you have, fold it three times by length. Wrap it with his tunic, and place it next to you." he told, and she took that in. She had never thought of doing that.

"Interesting." she thought of it, something so simple.

"My mother used to do that, while my father was away." he said, and she smiled already feeling calmer.

"Was your father away often?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. Border threats would require the attention of the warriors quite frequently." he told, and she glanced away from him.

"I envy her..." she reflected on the strength of a woman she did not know, and heard him laugh softly.

"She was the typical mother-hen type, always wanting her brood close. Up until our tenth years, she would have us sleep in her room when my father was absent. She would have said that it was to ensure our safety, but I think the presence of life so close comforted her. It was only after my youngest brother turned ten and one that she resorted to the quilt." he mentioned, and she nodded.

"Your mother was a strong woman." he smiled, bringing back the memories.

"She was. She raised three boys, mostly by herself while my father was away. She taught us respect, compassion and values. While my father taught us to be strong and courageous, these things bring their own kind of strength." he recalled, and again she admired him wishing she could have had the chance to meet them. Then she turned, wanting to reach the softness of her bed before the drowsiness left her.

"I should go inside, try to find some sleep. Thank you, Falgon." he bowed to her.

"Sleep well, your grace." he greeted as she entered the lord's wing and made her way back up to the lord's chamber where she took the thick quilt from the foot of their bed and folded it three times. She went to the dresser and pulled a white tunic from the drawer, then proceeded to wrap it around the quilt and position it on the bed, where her husband would have been and then lay down on the mattress. It wasn't as warm as he was, but she could recognise his smell - unique like raw honey next to her, and a slight feeling of his presence met her, and her arm went around the quilt, imagining that she held him; and she found sleep once again bringing up the beautiful medley in her mind, and for the tiniest fraction of an instant, she wished that her sentinel could play the song for her here, where she lay sleeping. It was easier for a few days, and she could find some peace before waking a short while later to a knock on their door, feeling disappointed that for now morning had come too soon, and still it left her worn and annoyed during the days. She raised herself and wiped the lingering slumber from her eyes. The quilt helped, but she still wished she could have someone with her.

"Enter." she allowed, and the door opened for three handmaidens to enter and start on their chores of helping her dress and tending to the wing. She waited as patiently as her ravelled willpower would allow while they chose a wide dress of cornflower blue with maya blue lining the neck, elbows and wide sleeves, along with flat grey slippers. A silver chain with a blue azurite pendant hung from her neck, and her hair was braided and draped over her left shoulder. She left the lord's wing to find her newest sentinel awaiting her at the door. Strong, lean and muscled with light grey eyes, pronounced cheekbones above a square jaw and wavy grey hair long enough to touch his neck; despite being only a few years older than Raeghun and Berin. It was told that the colour of his hair was caused by an accident in his youth, an accident that he rarely spoke of as it claimed the life of his sister.

"Good morning, my lady." he greeted her warmly as she closed the door.

"Good morning, Wymon." she returned.

"You look lovely this morning. But I imagine it an impossibility for a day that you do not seem fair. I hope you had a peaceful evening." he further added, and she nodded; his politeness becoming overbearing.

"My evening was fair, thank you. Shall we meet with the rest of the hold?" she suggested, wanting more people around her and they made their way down to the southern hall where they found Milla tending to the southern hall while Claira confirmed their morning meal with Jeody. After breaking their fast, they again prayed under the fountain like they did every day and then tended to the matters of the hold that they could and returned to the common room where they busied themselves further with needlework and knitting as Mandeline sat with Bella on her knees, playing with her. Milla examined her friend, the darkness shadowing her eyes.

"Claira, have you asked maester Adlyn for some sleeping drops?" she asked, and the clear blue came to her.

"I have, once or twice. But I don't want to become dependant on it." she said, pulling a deep blue thread through the fabric in her hands.

"It must seem so solitary, now. In the lord's wing." Milla breathed, bringing her eyes down to the work in her hands.

"It is. There's nothing but my own breath, sometimes it's so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat... I've wanted to ask if you and Bella would join me, but I don't want to interrupt your lives." she said with little thought, but then saw Milla smile.

"We'd be happy to, if you still want it. It's not a big change." she offered, and Claira felt her heart skip a beat.

"You really don't mind?" Milla glanced at Bella, starting to fidget in Mandeline's arms.

"Of course not." she agreed happily, and then Mandeline stood coming over to Milla in the instant that Bella started to whimper before the imminent cries.

"She's become a bit feverish quite suddenly, my lady." she informed as Milla took her.

"Have maester Adlyn see her, the sooner the better." Claira urged, and Milla nodded in accord before standing and heading through the door to maester Adlyn's tower with Mandeline following while Claira remained in her common room, adding another few stitches to her work. After a while she looked up, again realizing how empty the space around her felt; then she stood and walked to the window to stare out over the ocean. The ships still lingered where they were, and she told herself that it was a good sign. Again, no change... But then, the Greyjoy vessels would in all likelihood not dare approach their shoreline on raids at the sight of the great war galley and her flagships in the bay; there was nothing to do but wait, however long it took. Raeghun's name day had come and went again a while ago, and Berin's followed just a while after; they would both be two and twenty now. Even in their absence, and with the few people remaining at their hold they celebrated it in their feast hall with a roast, and infinite wishes for their safe return. Her eyes went to the horizon where the sky met the sea in shades of blue, and closed her eyes feeling a warmth spread from her stomach into her chest and imagined Raeghun's arms around her. These memories were the closest thing to her now, and she submerged herself in each moment of it until it faded slowly. Footsteps came her way, and then a hard presence took shape next to her.

"Is everything al right, my lady?" Wymon asked, and she breathed in; taking in the scent of leather that came off him.

"Yes." she said softly, and his eyes followed hers to the ships waiting in the bay.

"The galleys haven't moved." he noted as she stared through the window.

"I'd like to think that is good. That it means they're still safe..." she said, the tone of her low voice revealing her emotions; and he wanted to comfort her. To have her know that even in this vastness, she wasn't alone. Especially in light of her husband's absence, that if there was ever a time that she needed anything; a shoulder, an arm, a hand... anything.

"Don't worry, they'll be al right." he assured softly, laying his hand on the curve of her hip and then pulled her closer to him; it churned through her like tentacles writhing in her muscles, sending the burn of acid across her skin.

"Summon Falgon to me." she said suddenly, and he stared at her mildly surprised, thinking that perhaps she was not aware that he was asked to oversee the younger guards' training today.

"My lady-" he started, feeling her tense under his touch.

"Summon Falgon to me!" she said again, harder than before; not a request. And he moved slowly back.

"Yes, my lady." he turned and headed for the door, wondering. Reaching the arch he looked back, and saw her stare at him; eyes frigid and hard.

"And if you ever touch me again, I will have him take your hand." she warned, leaving him stunned cold. She turned back to the window, and he left without another word down the long halls and stairways to the outer bailey feeling affronted where he found Falgon watching the youngsters at training, issuing his advices. He watched him for a moment, the tall figure towering above all else in their hall, his status clearly outweighing everyone else, both physically and otherwise. So, she prefers you... He approached, his hand clasped around the grip of the sword at his side.

"Falgon. The lady wants you." he announced, and Falgon turned to face him.

"Wants me?" he seemed curious.

"Yes." Came Wymon's curt answer, and Falgon scoffed.

"Odd way of putting it, don't you think?" he mentioned, and Wymon looked away from him. From the dark eyes.

"See it any way you want..." he replied, and Falgon moved forward to pass him.

"Then I assume that you will continue the training of the guards. Ser Austinus should return shortly from Hornsney." he said, and Wymon sighed.

"She enjoys you. You're good with your hands." he mentioned, and Falgon turned back.

"Really?" Wymon faced him, casting a quick glance to the height of the sun tower.

"I've heard you play the lute. It's astounding that the same hands that wield a sword with such fierceness, can play a musical instrument so softly." he said, and Falgon nodded.

"My mother believed that I needed something besides the harshness of warfare. Men who know only that, tend to be unstable." he told, and Wymon took a single step forward.

"I will not hide that I have been envious of you. I've worked hard for five years before being accepted into the order, while you were favoured." he said, but Falgon's eyes remained on him the same way as before. No disdain, no pride.

"The circumstances that brought me here were different from yours, but that shouldn't matter. My only concern is her welfare, as should be yours." he said, and Wymon shrugged.

"Go and take care of that, then. Before she has you take my head as well." in that instant Falgon's eyes grew darker.

"What did you do?" he asked, coming forward and sudden fear swept across him.

"Nothing. I wanted to comfort her, to have her know she's not alone in all of this." he muttered.

"She does know that, but knowing does not change your position. And if she is in need of someone's sympathies, she will find it with her family." he told, then turned and headed into the hold to receive his bidding. He found her in her common room, still in front of the window.

"You summoned me, your grace?" he asked as he moved forward.

"I did. Do you mind?" she replied, not turning to face him.

"Not at all. But you seem to have a harshness to you today." he mentioned as he took his place next to her, hearing her flout slightly.

"I recognise his abilities, and his place in our hall. But... he hasn't earned my trust yet, like you did." she said softly, and he sighed.

"He meant nothing, I'm sure. He is your sentinel, he was simply trying to comfort you." he eased, and then her eyes came to his.

"I don't need his comfort. I need yours, it's calming. Your presence isn't... overwhelming." she said, and he glanced out the window.

"Very well." he wondered at her change, she wasn't ordinarily as vexed with her people; and then heard her take a deep breath before looking down.

"I'm sorry... I haven't been feeling like myself lately." she confessed, wanting her state to end. It was miserable, and everyone felt it. Again, simple things would leave her infuriated, or close to tears; if only the longing would end everything would return to normal.

"I don't mind. But you might want to speak to Wymon again." Falgon mentioned.

"I'll apologise to him later." After another moment spent in silence, they left the common room for the kitchens seeing that all was in order for their evening, and during the course of the day, the castle hands moved Bella's crib along with three small crates holding several items of Milla's clothing and other effects to the second room of the lord's wing, which was subject of rich honey yellow silks over a wide bed, a chair alongside a small table, two dressers and a wardrobe next to a small hearth, and a clear mirror against the wall. A window opened over the Sunset Sea where the last golden glow of daylight spilled through. After having maester Adlyn tend to Bella, giving mouth drops for the fever, those in the hold supped on beef stew with fresh bread and apple press before retiring to bed. Falgon accompanied Claira and Milla through the Hall of Fire up the grand staircase on their way to the lord's wing; but then Claira stopped and looked back, seeing Wymon and Gavin heading to the guard's hall. I should try to make things right...

"Go on ahead, I'll just be a moment." she urged as she glanced at Milla with Bella in her arms and Falgon at her side.

"We'll wait for you." Milla suggested as Claira started to move away from them.

"It's al right." she headed down the steps towards the glow of the guard's hall.

"Wymon." he turned, and bowed his head as she approached him.

"What can I do for you, my lady?" she stood in front of him, wondering but still feeling the churn to her skin.

"I wish to apologise, for this afternoon. I won't give you reasons to justify it, but I hope you will accept my pardon." she said, and he grinned.

"Thank you. Although I cannot tell you that I understand, I do hope that I will not meet your scorn again." he said gratefully, and she could find it in her to smile with him.

"I trust the same. Good night, Wymon." she turned to leave.

"Sleep well, fair lady." he returned, and then his eyes followed her as she made her way up the stairway where Milla and Falgon had decided to wait before entering the incline to the lord's wing, and then met with those of the tall sentinel watching him intently, like a shadow cat watching its prey before he followed them up further into the flickering of the torches, and bidding them a fair evening at the door of the lord's wing. They spent some time in the lord's hall in front of the fire, just sharing their thoughts and wishes before Claira entered the bath chamber to cleanse, returning in a soft nightgown of powder blue and thereafter watching over Bella while Milla did the same, returning in pale green, and they made their way up the steps to the chambers where Claira issued her friend a fond night, and then retreated to her own. Again, she stood for a time watching the light blink off the bay, silently praying for her husband's return, then went to bed where she took the quilt from its place and folded it three times by length, then pulled a tunic from the dresser and wrapped it around the upper part and positioned it on the bed next to where she lay her down for the night. Time passed, but eventually she drifted off to sleep with his bitter-sweet scent around her until deep night when she woke again to a child's crying. She stood, rushing to the second chamber where she found Milla walking around the bed with Bella against her, frantically trying to soothe her.

"Milla?" she stepped forward as Milla turned, revealing tear stricken and reddened eyes.

"I'm sorry, Claira... I can't seem to calm her..." she said through strained breaths, and Claira raised her arms.

"Give her to me." she said, and Milla released Bella into Claira's hands where she held the little body to her skin, feeling it burn against her.

"Where are the drops that the maester gave?" she asked, and Milla pointed to a small bottle on the table next to the crib. Claira went to the table and took the bottle before sitting down on the bed, opening the lid and dipping her small finger into the liquid; then brought it to Bella's mouth and gently rubbed the fluid onto her tongue and pallet before replacing it and holding her to her shoulder where her cool skin could ease the fever, rocking as her fingers gently tapped on the child's back, which seemed to calm her; then she looked up at Milla still standing with her hand to her mouth.

"What are you doing, Milla?" she came forward and sat down next to her.

"I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing... I don't know what's wrong with me. I've been feeling... out of place for a few days now." she said softly as Claira regarded her. Hers was not the only loneliness within these walls.

"I think she's tired of me. She wants her father." Milla decided, wiping away a tear.

"Try feeding her, then I'll take her for the rest of the night." Claira suggested, rising a stunned face.

"I can't expect that-" Milla started.

"I want to. Watching over her will give me something to do, as I won't be able to sleep again." she urged, looking at the child in her arms.

"Claira." she tried again.

"You need to rest. You're doing a lot." Claira said as she stood, and gently lay Bella in Milla's lap.

"I'll be back for her in a little while." she told, and then left the chamber and went down to the fountain, casting another petal of red to the waters and looked up at the face. Please bring calmness to my family again. Please show me what to do... Please help me. But the face just stared back, with no obvious answer. Please make this end... Please bring our people home... Then she returned the way she came, and entered the second chamber as Milla pulled her gown over her shoulder and Claira held her hands to take Bella.

"If anything happens-" she started as Claira lifted her out of Milla's arms.

"Nothing will happen, Milla. Sleep now." then she turned, holding the child against her and Milla sighed.

"Good night..." she called, answered with the echo of her friend. Then she lay down, staring at the canopy of the bed. She hated feeling this way, it came and went on the odd occasions; but it hadn't been as obvious as tonight. She counted the times she felt nauseated, dizzy, abruptly warm, strange wants... these were common for the past two days. Then she turned and her eyes went to the stars beyond the window, brightly shining in the black sky as she watched them until her drowsiness became too heavy for her, and she surrendered to sleep only to wake to the grey sky that called upon the dawn. She slept longer than normal... She stood and went to the crib, finding it empty and a momentary stab of fright dug into her heart the moment before she remembered. She silently left the room and made her way up to the lord's chamber and entered softly. She scanned the chamber, and then carefully approached the bed, staring in amazement. There, with a protective arm around her between the thick quilt and against Claira's breast lay her only child, sleeping like nothing in the world could bother her; and Milla smiled through tears. What wonders you are... How lucky we have been to have this family... She slowly moved forward, and very carefully retrieved Bella from the bed as not to stir her friend from the sleep she had been deprived of for weeks, and headed down to the lord's hall where she sat with her before she would need to be nursed. A short while later, a soft knock sounded at the door and Milla allowed entry to their handmaidens.

"Good morning, m'lady." one greeted, and Milla smiled.

"Good morning, everyone. You may start with the chores of the wing." she said, and then looked at the archway leading up to the chambers.

"But please leave lady Claira to her rest, for just a little while longer." she asked, looking down at Bella who also had yet to wake.

Raeghun sat wondering what they could have done differently. While lord Violet held the shores stretching the span below Seagard, he and his men pushed further as far as Oar's Rest, a small settlement just a few miles north-west of the Whispering Wood and held there for several weeks awaiting the coming of the fleets, but drawn out raids slowed their progress and delayed their arrival. He breathed in deeply, trying to alleviate the spasms through his back and legs from a single extended position, ignoring the sting to his skin from new cuts and bruises. The soldiers had erected improvised barricades to hold the shore, and for a while it seemed they would last as the villagers continued their daily activities, and until the force made their appearance. And then came the red dawn under the shadows of black and gold sails, and the world was left a shattered mirror of red and screams while blades clashed and others fled. He had called for his sentinels to bring the women and children to safety... He looked up at the figure in front of him, cursing the burn around his chafed wrists where tightly bound ropes bit into his skin.

"I'm sorry, Berin. That I got you into this..." he looked up from his position opposite from Raeghun, dried blood darkening the right side of his face and merging into the stubble of a forming beard from a gash to his brow.

"I'm at your side, where I'm expected to be." he breathed without the slightest sigh of regret, but it did not lessen the disgust Raeghun felt.

"But if I hadn't turned back-" there were still people behind, and it didn't matter who they were, he couldn't just leave them.

"It's who you are, Raeghun. Don't you ever be sorry for it." his brother silenced him, bringing a sense of gratitude albeit small. The clamour of feet came down the stairs into the hull of the longship on which they were being held to posts amidst barrels and crates with a single small oil lamp hung from the side of the hull for what little light it could offer, and three men garbed in black and grey appeared grinning and laughing.

"So, it seems the fiery bird don't do so well on water, eh?" one remarked, big and burly with black eyes, a bald head and leathery skin hanging from his cheeks. Raeghun faced away from them, the smell of salt and sweat following their hollow footsteps.

"What? Nothin' to say?" he shoved a boot into Raeghun's side, making him wince as the men laughed; and Berin felt his skin singe.

"Do that once more, and I'll have that same foot up your ass so deep you can trim your toe-nails with your teeth." he turned and looked at Berin, his leathery cheeks still pulled in the smug grin.

"Really so?" he moved forward, and lowered himself to meet his eyes.

"The Crimson Knight, I've heard 'em call ya." A sudden hard fist found his cheek, and the taste of blood met him vaguely.

"Ya ain't on yer pretty horse with yer fancy lance now, cuss. Even yer gods have no power 'ere." he sniggered.

"When I am released from this, I'll send you to meet your own." he turned back to Raeghun, regarding him with eyes aflame.

"I'm sure he has a seat for you in the deepest, darkest pit where he takes his shits in." he added, and the grin faded.

"Ya ain't in no position to be threatenin' me-" he started, and Raeghun grinned back.

"It wasn't a threat. I just made you a promise." he assured, then the man moved forward with his fist raised; but then stopped and stared at the bright blue.

"We'll see a few days in the pits change ya. Soon enough ya'll be beggin'." he told, to be answered with a scoff.

"Yes, we'll see who reaches their pit first. So I'd suggest you keep your eyes well open." Raeghun said, and then another shadow appeared behind the others.

"What are you doing here?" came the deep voice of a man who was as gaunt and chiselled as the rocky mountains.

"Makin' sure our guests are comfy." one of the other men replied, and the dark eyes stared at him furiously.

"Get your asses back on deck; the master's ships will reach Seagard soon and we'd better be back with these two." he said, and the men left mumbling up the steps. Their last companion spared them a fleeting glance above an approving smile and then followed, possibly mulling over what a sight they would make. To display one of the greatest heads on their walls... and the hull dissolved into silence once again.

"You al right?" Raeghun asked, and Berin sighed still feeling the force to his face.

"Yeah. Where do you suppose they're taking us?" he asked exchanging his weight to his left side.

"To Pyke. In all probability to exchange us for some leniency." Raeghun guessed, watching the pale light coming through the hatch where the crew came and went, and Berin jeered again.

"Like we would be bargained for..." Negotiation chips, everyone had to have theirs in the instance that their plans didn't follow through the way they wanted, and then Raeghun's eyes came back to his, even in the shadows emitting their steely ardent blue.

"I don't intend to reach Pyke. I will see this through, and then I'm going home." he determined.

Nausea had started to ravage Claira each morning for some weeks not too long ago. Initially she dismissed it to the sadness and the intense loneliness she felt; and then it vanished as suddenly as it came on. Her breasts felt tender, but she dismissed this as well as this happens from time to time when her blooming was due. Most days she felt tired, and irritable but accounted that to her sleepless nights and a disturbed routine; some time later she started experiencing odd cravings such as cinnamon and salmon steak, and ginger snaps which were generally not to her taste. It was mid-morning on a warm day when she made her way to the kitchen with Falgon following close by to give cook Jeody his instructions for this evening's meal of bacon wrapped quail with stewed vegetables and maize, and thought that perhaps while she was there she would have a cream tart. The torches burnt brightly, again accentuating the great hall's celebrated name while sunlight filtered through the highest windows. Handmaidens and serving girls moved up and down the halls, and Milla stood overseeing their activities as they cleaned and supplied fresh items to the occupied wings of the castle. Claira regarded her, reflecting on how well she managed the castle along with Raeghun's court master; then she stopped, her hand resting on the stone railing and Falgon paused next to her.

"Is everything al right, your grace?" he enquired softly,

"I feel warm." She replied, feeling a rush of heat flow down the length of her body from her face to her knees, and then the heat faded into light tingling. The space around her seemed to swirl, and the thought occurred that if she could only make it to the end of the stairway the feeling would fade. She moved to take the next step, and then she was falling. Falling and falling, down and down and down; past the torches, past the stairs, past the floor, past the darkness of the vaults, past the flickering of the Ardent Tombs, but strangely the pain she expected from the fall never came and she was rather floating than tumbling. Someone may have screamed, or called out a name, or something else but she couldn't be sure. The voices were muffled, like she was standing on one side of a waterfall, and they on the other side. The world took on a grey haze, like she was standing in a mist veiled field. Darkness fell over the land again as a face approached her, and colour returned to her sight. She was still on the stairway, staring up at the high roof of the Hall of Fire, the concerned faces of handmaidens, castle hands and serving girls around her, and her sentinel above her with his arms under her. He set her down on the steps, and looked to see a young page rushing up the stairs with a large goblet filled with spring water. Her hand went to her face, her limbs feeling heavy and unresponsive.

"What happened?" she managed to whisper.

"I don't know, your grace. You collapsed." Falgon reported, accepting the goblet from the boy and bringing it to her. Her fingers curled around the chalice, but had no strength to hold it and it nearly slipped from her hands; and Falgon brought the rim to her lips and she swallowed eagerly. Milla came rushing over them then, and Falgon looked up as she knelt at her side. He stood after lowering the chalice to her hands resting in her lap before standing and stepping aside.

"Are you hurt, my lady?" the court maiden asked, placing one hand on her shoulder. She blushed slightly.

"No, no I'm not, thanks to Falgon." She said, and brought the goblet back to her mouth with less effort than before, but the muscles still trembled with exertion.

"I'm worried about you. You've been acting… different." Milla said, examining her features.

"I'll be fine. I just need to get back into routine here, our recent circumstances have left me wind woven." Claira assured, but Milla shook her head.

"I don't think this is attributed only to these long empty days, my lady. It's been tiring and lonely of course, but shouldn't have an effect like this. May I suggest that you to go see maester Adlyn." Milla insisted as she drained the goblet and placed it on the steps next to her.

"Dear Milla, I don't feel ill. It's not necessary." She said, but she put her hand on hers.

"Please. Please go see him." She pleaded, and she nodded reluctantly.

"Good. Please go back to the wing, rest for a while and then go see him. I'll approve this evening's meal with Jeody." She said helping her up on frail legs, and turned to Falgon.

"Deliver our lady safely to the wing." She instructed, and Falgon bowed.

"As you bid, my lady." He acknowledged stepping closer and held his arm for her to hold and steady herself.

"And make sure she is seen by maester Adlyn, will you?" Milla added. Falgon bowed his head once more.

"I will ensure it myself, my lady." He ensured, and took her the way back up to the wing.

"I feel much better now. I don't want to see the maester, I'll only waste his time. Time that may otherwise be spent effectively." She mentioned as they rounded a curve up to the wing.

"Please see him anyway, your grace." Falgon insisted, and she looked up at him.

"There is really no need. In a few days I'll be perfectly well, and things will resume as they always have been." She declined and as they reached the doors, he turned and looked at her.

"Are you afraid of something the maester may tell you, your grace?" he asked, and she placed her hand against the door to enter the lord's wing.

"What is there to be afraid of? What could he possibly tell me, that he hasn't told me before?" she asked, a subtle bitter tone to her voice.

"Then there is no reason not to see him. He is here to serve, just like I am. Let him tell you that there is no fault with your health, and perhaps give you a few ginkgo leaves to alleviate you of your recent light headedness; then life continues." He said, and she nodded after breathing in deeply.

"Al right. Just to make sure everything is in order." She finally agreed, and then entered the lords wing to take her rest. He remained at the door, loyal to his duty until she emerged again when it must have been a little past noon and he bowed to her.

"Greetings, your grace. I trust you had a decent rest." He greeted, and she smiled.

"You could have gone and joined the guards in training, or patrolled the castle grounds. It wasn't necessary to stand guard." She said, and he smiled.

"Thank you, your grace. And when I returned you would have told me that you had already seen maester Adlyn, and he assured that everything is in order." He assumed, and she blushed.

"Indeed, I would have." She said, and he raised his hand to his side to guide her to the maester's tower. He stopped at the base of the stairs.

"I will remain here." He said, and she ascended the steps to the maester's chambers where he was busy scanning through old books and scrolls, a quill and parchment lay on the table with other various items.

"Good day, maester." She drew his attention, and he looked at her.

"Good afternoon, my lady. Welcome. Come in, come in. How may I be of service?" he asked as he waved her closer to a chair next to a tiny hearth.

"My court maiden insisted that I come to see you, regarding recent peculiarities I've been experiencing." She said, and he sat down next to her.

"Peculiarities? May I ask that you describe these oddities, my lady?" he asked, leaning forward to listen.

"I don't feel ill, but it started with nausea several weeks ago which has to my knowledge now vanished, and I've been having odd desires of taste. I feel tired, and sensitive to my skin, especially my chest. I've had strange flushes of heat, and today I collapsed on the stairway. Had Falgon not been next to me, I may have been very seriously injured." He listened intently, and then he sat up and took a string attached to a crystal shaped like an arrow head from his wide pocketed sleeve.

"If my lady would not oppose, I may conduct a quick examination? As per the lady's instruction, let us ensure that there is no fault." He said holding out his other hand, and she gave hers. He dropped the crystal and held it just above a piece of soft leather with a dark mark and a wide circle traced around it, and the pendulum swung in an arch, the tip of the crystal aligning with the edges of the circle and crossing the point in the middle of the leather on the table next to him. He applied slight pressure to her wrist just under her thumb while her cold hand lay comfortably in his palm. They sat like this for a short while, then he looked up at her while he replaced the pendulum back in his sleeve, and fleetingly let the back of his hand rest against her face. He raised his hands, and then paused to look at her.

"May I proceed with the examination?" he asked, and she nodded. He gently placed his fingertips against her breasts, and softly pressed on the upper surface and then the sides, then brought his hands back and folded them on his knee.

"Your pulse is somewhat elevated, my lady. You have a slight fever, and your breasts are rather swollen, explaining the tenderness." He tightened his mouth slightly in a thought, and his eyes went to hers.

"You mentioned you are experiencing strange wants of food, as well?" he recalled, and she nodded. He thought for a moment, and then leaned his head slightly to one side.

"Tell me, my lady. Have you experienced any other, strange sensations? Something resembling tiny fish swimming around, bubbles floating about, or a minor tumbling motion?" she did, from very recently; something she dismissed to nerves. He smiled softly.

"Please do not think ill of me for asking this, my lady. But when was the last time you've bloomed?" he asked, and she struggled to recall the exact time. It was definitely before her husband left for the uprising. She saw him smiling at her, and her hand went to her mouth to stop something between a laugh and a cry.

"This can't be... This can't be..." she felt the burn of tears to her eyes, and her cracked heart shattered into hundreds of glinting pieces.

"Maester Adlyn, is this true? Yet after all my hope has vanished, could the gods grant me this?" she asked, and his smile broadened.

"Yes my lady, I believe so. There is no other clarification. After all these many years, your child has come." He said, and her hands covered her face in a whirl of emotion. He placed a comforting hand on her arm, and she breathed out under a joy so heavy that she couldn't do anything but cry as both misery and bliss battled in her. Much later, after calming on a cup of warm camomile tea and receiving the maester's advice to still walk as much as she could, and not entirely dismiss her normal activities she descended the stairs with a bottle of ground Red Raspberry Leaves to add to her tea daily, and found her sentinel waiting for her. He bowed as she stepped through the tower arch.

"I trust all is in order, your grace." He enquired, and she smiled at him happily, her eyes still glinting from tears.

"Everything is wonderful, my Falgon." She said, and he returned her happiness kindly.

The world was drenched in a deep black, with nothing but the sways of the ship on the waves of a calm ocean and the whistling of the wind through the sails. There was no difference between night and day here, and he wondered how long it has been. Dark shadows, and even darker voices made their presence known around them. And then a light appeared, far off and dim at first but rising like the sun as it chased the shadows away. Berin... Wake up... He looked up to see a slender woman with a wizened yet seemly angular face, dressed in a flowing gown of scarlet with long tortilla sleeves and centre piece, her brow adorned with a gold and tourmaline gemstones circlet, in the shine of the sun in front of him, long brown hair hanging to her waist; and he recognised the forest green of his mother's eyes.

"Your family needs you. You have to get up." she told him, and he pulled against the restrains to his wrists.

"I can't do this..." he muttered miserably as he cast his eyes down, but she smiled.

"You can. You're stronger than you think. You are a Trentin." she encouraged him, reaching out a soft hand with lean fingers towards him.

"Mother..." he looked up again, the clear green of her eyes fading to a hazy white.

"Think. Now get up. Your family waits..." the light dissolved, and she disappeared leaving him back in the shadows; but his vision came back to the space illuminated only by a small oil lamp hung on the side of the hull and he was staring at his friend straining and moving his hands as he could.

"What are you doing?" Berin asked softly, and the clear blue met his eyes.

"Trying to break the ropes. They're slacking, but not enough." Raeghun told, then Berin cast a glance over his shoulder down to his hands. He recalled maester Adlyn once mentioning that his muscle mass was not as dense as Raeghun's; it was softer and more elastic, giving him more suppleness than most.

"You won't be able to break the ropes. But..." he grinned in a moment of madness as his stare came back, his eyes glinting.

"I do agree that a break is needed." he twisted his left wrist inward and took hold of his thumb with the fingers of his right, and then twisted back while forcing down hard with his grip; hoping that the strain may dislocate the bones in his hand allowing enough flexibility to slip through the bonds. But a sudden sickening and ominous snap sounded through the hull as stinging, electric pain rushed through his arm into his neck and he strangled a cry.

"Berin!" he heard his friend's voice through a drunken hum as he slipped his hands through the ropes and stood.

"Shut up, Raeghun." he moved forward ignoring the pain, then crouched as he started untying the ropes that held his brother's hands immobilized.

"Now, let's get out of here." he urged as he helped Raeghun to his feet.

"Any plans?" Raeghun looked around the hull.

"No, but I thought we'd just go with it. We need a distraction." Berin took the oil lamp from its hook against the hull, and then his eyes went to the opposite side.

"Well, wood doesn't go so well with fire..." he flung the lamp, and it shattered on impact drenching the wood in oil and leaving the flames eating away at the wood while dark smoke started to rise through the deck. The hatch opened to daylight as footsteps rushed down the small stairway and they hid themselves in the shadows.

"What the f-" the sailor suddenly stopped, glimpsing their empty spaces and the fire against the hull before turning and heading back, screaming of fire as he went and Raeghun emerged.

"We can't let them put that out." he mentioned, and Berin smiled again.

"They can't come down more than two at a time. Funnelled like that, it should be easy to handle them." he calculated, and Raeghun regarded him.

"But with your hand-" he started,

"Fuck my hand, I'll worry about that later. Let's deal with this first." he said looking up as the sound of more and more feet came towards them; and again they concealed themselves, taking up positions on either side of the steps as the hull grew darker with smoke. As predicted, men flowed down the steps two-by-two until a count of twelve lay unconscious on the wood flooring, buckets of water spilled into the space before they escaped the increasing density of smoke and heat and meeting more foes on deck which were cast to the floor of the deck or to the ocean waves. More and more smoke started to filter through the wood panelling as the ship started to tilt to the starboard side. Landing a sailor down, the sound of thuds on the wood made Raeghun look up to the horizon, another ship sailed nearby with men on deck holding bows in their hands and sending arrows their way. He breathed out, relieved that there was distance between them and the winds blew the arrows off course; and then an idea came to mind as he looked back at Berin who threw another man over the railing of the ship.

"Berin, take the wheel and bring us in." he instructed, and his friend hurried to the stern to steer the sinking ship; then he heard a voice from the bow, loud and enraged. He turned back seeing the same robust man who had previously tempted their frustrations, red faced and almost snarling in rage as he held both Quill and Bristlemane Blade in his large round hands. He felt the motion of the ship as it started to turn, taking them closer to the adjacent ship.

"I'll kill ya! I don't care what the master says, I'll kill ya both!" it ripped from him, and Raeghun faced him evenly, hearing the sudden panicked yells from the other ship.

"Come. Claim your prize." he encouraged, and the man rushed forward blind. Don't engage... See what he does... Raeghun for a moment remembered Falgon, who always watched his enemies closely before moving suddenly. His prosecutions always ended quickly because he paid attention to his opponent, reading their movements as easily as a book. He watched, taking in the figure storming forward, absorbing his motions. Then he lifted Quill in his right hand, and swung forward rather ungracefully, giving Raeghun a moment to duck away as the blade passed his shoulder. He took hold of the wrist, and sent his free palm up into the elbow, shattering the bone and releasing his grip on the sword that Raeghun caught as it fell; then he turned and sent the edge through the stomach and out the back of his attacker as he forced him back against the railing, the black eyes stared at him. Beads vacant of anything as the rage left the man and his body eased.

"Send my greetings to your god." Raeghun told with a soft smile and then pushed him back, releasing his blade and taking hold of Bristlemane Blade as he tumbled backwards into the ocean. The panicked yells had become frightened screams from the ship next to them which had started to turn, but would not be able to escape what came and several men exchanged their vessel for the waters.

"Raeghun!" Berin reached his side, the ship now at an uncomfortable angle taking on more water as the wood below melted away under the damage of the flames, and the force of the waves.

"Time to go." he suggested as he handed Berin's sword back to him, to be returned at its rightful place at his side as he did with his own. The ship rocked, and they turned running for the opposite side where they leapt into the waters moments before a hard explosion sounded behind them and the bow of the sinking ship slammed into the one next to it, tearing through wood and flooding it. They made for shore, swimming hard and unfalteringly to reach its safety before finding it under the pink sheen of dusk. They spared a few moments there to claim their breath, and then Raeghun stood noticing another ship not too far off; but the light made it difficult to tell whether this was friend or foe. He looked down at Berin, still laying on his back on the sand.

"Berin, get up." he urged,

"In a moment..." he breathed, and Raeghun felt for him. He was tired and worn, and in obvious agony; but he reached down taking hold of his right hand instead of his left that was swollen and stained with different shades of blue and purple to pull him up.

"We have to go, we can't stay here." he told, noting that his friend was shivering.

"Al right. Which way?" he asked, sounding either weary or drunk as he found some balance, and Raeghun took hold of his shoulders.

"Fuck, I don't know. South. There's bound to be something that way." he said, and Berin looked up.

"Lead on..." he said softly, and the concern grew.

"You lead, I'll follow." Raeghun pushed him forward, and they disappeared into the shadows of the brush that followed the coast.

It was raining, the soft hum sounding off the roof and the walls of the castle as Claira stood watching the lights on the bay. It was late at night, but she didn't feel drowsy yet, having lit some new candles in the chamber a little while ago and adding a few pieces of wood to the flames of her hearth. The fever had left Bella and calmness came to them again. For a while since visiting the maester, she feared that if she woke this would disappear with her dreams but it never did, and every so often she could feel the tiny motions. Now, the days didn't seem so long any more, and she could find sleep again, with one arm around her husband's memory and her other against his promise. She smiled, still between the throes of disbelief and joy as she pressed her hands to her stomach and a new tear trailed down her cheek. Will you move for me? Please? The smallest flutter found her right hand, and her left covered her mouth to smother another confused mixture of cries and laughter. I can't believe you're here... This still feels so much like a dream to me... And the soft surges came again. This is real... You are here... You are with me... Again she drowned the sounds as she sat down on the chest, I love you... I love you so much... And your father, he will come home. He will... A soft knock at the door made her look back, and she took a deep breath to compose herself.

"Enter." she allowed, and the door softly edged open for Milla to step through.

"Is everything al right?" she asked, closing the door behind her and Claira smiled as she came over to her.

"Yes. Everything is fine, my sweet friend. Why?" she replied meeting Milla's clear eyes.

"I heard... something. And then I saw the light." she mentioned, and Claira looked out of the window towards the lights.

"I'm sorry if I woke you. I wanted to watch the ships for a while." she mentioned, and Milla's eyes followed hers.

"You didn't wake me, Bella did for her feeding. She's asleep now. But it's past midnight, you really should get some rest as well." she urged, and Claira looked back at her again smiling.

"I will. Soon, I promise." she said as Milla returned her gesture.

"It is good to see you like this again. You've been happier recently than you have been for months." she praised, having her friend blush.

"I am happy, Milla. They'll come home soon, I believe it. They must..." she said softly, and Milla nodded in agreement with her.

"Yes, they will. Don't stay up much longer, good night Claira." she turned to head back to her temporary chamber.

"I won't. Good night, Milla." she left again in silence, and Claira cast a final glance at the galley far away in the rain. I probably should try to get some sleep... She stood and after smothering the candles, but leaving the hearth to wither on its own made her way to the bed where she lay down next to the quilt and put her left arm over it while her right wrapped around her stomach and she closed her eyes awaiting sleep to claim her. A bit further down in the second chamber where Bella lay fast asleep in her large rounded crib Milla lay down on the wide bed, it was good to see her friend happy again but something was different. She hasn't said anything regarding her visit to maester Adlyn, and actually hasn't spoken much at all since then. She didn't appear to be ill, and still held to their routine quite adamantly; she recalled glimpsing Claira's hand held against her stomach, and she thought her friend may simply be in a degree of pain. Milla knew that she had suffered some difficulties with that whenever she was in bloom, and hoped it would pass soon. Sleep came and she woke again at dawn to Bella's fidgeting, so she stood and tended to her nursing and cleaning while a short while later the handmaidens knocked on the door to help her dress and proceed to cleaning the lord's wing. Claira took Bella for the while they headed down to tend to the preparation of the feast hall and the options for their morning meal; and after breaking their fast Mandeline further saw to Bella's care while the ladies returned to the lord's garden to pray, again asking for their blessings of favour and safety over their loved ones. Then Milla took a moment to sit down on the wide black marble basin, admiring the smoothness of the sphere that held crystal clear waters as she though of what to say, and Claira joined her running her fingers through the calmness of the cool liquid, and then Milla's attention came to her.

"Claira, are you feeling al right?" she asked, and the striking blue eyes met hers.

"Yes. I'm just tired, that's all." she assured with a soft smile, that Milla thought resembled a dreamy appearance.

"Of course, you haven't been sleeping well. Has the maester given you anything for the pain?" she glanced down at Claira's hand, still held against her stomach; and wanted to make things better, but wasn't quite sure how.

"I don't have any pain, Milla." she said softly, changing the concern to confusion.

"But I thought, with your blooms-" Claira smiled, a light red flush to her skin.

"I haven't bloomed..." Milla stared at her, and the world disappeared as tingling spread over her body. She couldn't think of anything, what to do, what to say, what to think. Everything vanished, the longing, the worry, the anxiety, the fear, until nothing was left but happiness and she watched in a state of intoxication as her friend's hand covered her mouth to stifle either a laugh or a cry and tears escaped her eyes. Automatically Milla leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her friend, but the only breath that would escape her lips was her friend's name, over and over as she held her and they surrendered to the overpowering struggle against tears, there where the wise face kept its vigil over them.

Berin stood watching as great stones were hurled at a thick stone wall, chipping away at the rampart as the heavy masses slammed into the rock with deafening blows; and men waited in throngs to break through, the screams of commands and threatening battle cries sounded around them. They took shelter in a cave somewhere close to shore, where Raeghun sat awake with him through a restless night of fever before happening on a party of Winterfell soldiers that had lingered behind on their way down to meet with the masses the day following. Realizing who they were, the soldiers offered what they could from their stores to ease the fever and discomfort and accompanied them further to the encampments, from where Raeghun had orders sent to lord Violet and Colbert who would have assumed command in his stead to assemble for the final onslaught. They were also told that for a while the shores were left disregarded and much of the iron fleet that were not destroyed during the battle in the Straits of Fair Isle set on the seaport, where Rodrik Greyjoy was slain by lord Jason Mallister during their failed attack on Seagard; and what remained pulled back to the islands where they were now surrounded by the fleets from Blackwater, the Arbor, Oldtown and the Corridor. He flexed his hand, wrapped tightly in linen bands, still feeling the dull throb. It wasn't as painful now as it was then, but kept to himself that he found it rather difficult to hold his sword right. He could swing it, but didn't have the strength to cut through an arrow shaft. So for now, he had to resort to using his right hand. A large boulder struck the wall, and he watched as the top half crumbled away and fell to the ground, rolling into the water of the sea as voices rose over them, and his heart rate increased. Raeghun came to his side, Quill held in his hand.

"Are you ready to finish this, my friend?" he asked, seeming satisfied that their long endeavour was finally approaching its end; and Berin smiled back clenching his hand and ignoring the throb.

"The sooner, the better." he said, and they looked back at Robert Baratheon calling out a command at one of the trebuchets before it flung another great stone at the crumbling wall. It struck solidly, and the wall gave way as men filtered through, the first being a tall man with a blade burning in his hand as he ran forward screaming into the masses that opposed, followed by another large man whom they recognised as Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, and more men bore down on the island keep. Raeghun spared him a glance.

"Not for riches, or glory." he said, and Berin shared his pride.

"Not for power, or authority." he agreed, taking Bristlemane Blade in his awkward hand, and they moved forward along with the masses of soldiers both allies and countrymen, lords and soldiers, kingsguard and sentinels. All in a terrifying clash of glinting steel.

It was a warm day with high white clouds dotting the blue sky that Claira glanced out the window of her common room to meet a vacant bay far below, and later the raven came that announced the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion as Balon bent the knee to king Robert Baratheon. The sombreness left the halls of the burning mountain as all now waited eagerly for the homecoming of their men; and soon enough the Taugere banners were seen emerging from the horizon, returning with less men than with which they left, but returning all the same. With the noon, in barely restrained excitement Claira and Milla hurried to the bailey to greet their people as they entered, but as the flow of entering people receded, several faces were missing from their numbers. Claira's heart sank away as she turned to Colbert who had led the guards home, before giving his horse to the stable hands for care, and now stood by her side.

"Colbert... Where... Where is lord Raeghun?" and for a moment she rued asking, but then saw him smile.

"He and lord Berin should arrive before nightfall, my lady. Derric, Saerus and Edur are still with them. They were seeing off lords Rames and Violet." he informed, and the rush of relief left her giddy before a strong hand found her back to steady her and she was thankful for her sentinel at her side. Colbert stared at her, passing a fleeting glance between her and Falgon.

"Are you feeling al right, my lady? You seem a bit more pallid... than usual." he corrected, and she smiled.

"Yes Colbert, thank you. I'm just tired, that's all." he remained staring at her.

"I do hope it is nothing serious." he added as his stare regarded her in concern.

"No, of course not." she looked over the men, the obvious fatigue of their efforts hanging heavy like a mist.

"Go on, have the men take their rest. I'll have cook Jeody serve something complementing tonight." he bowed to her formally, and she watched as the guards and sentinels retreated into the comfort of Mount Ardor's barracks to cleanse and release their strains to soft beds before they would finally return to their former routines. Then she turned to Milla.

"Not much longer, now." she breathed, perhaps more to herself and they shared an excited utterance before heading to the kitchens to arrange the evening banquet and then returning to her common room after having the instruction given to return Bella's crib along with Milla's belongings to the east wing while they waited, but she couldn't make herself focus on anything and just kept staring out the window that revealed the southern part of the lands as she sat rocking with Bella in her arms who'd fallen asleep just a few moments past as they listened to the gentle melody coming from the lute and the sky grew slowly darker. Then as twilight darkened the land and the music faded, her heart raced as she watched five figures approach the hold, and again her face felt warm as tears came to her. They were home. Finally, after months their husbands had come home.

"Mandeline, would you see to Bella for just a short while, please?" she asked as she stood, and the nurse approached happily.

"Of course, my lady." she took her, laying her gently against her shoulder as Milla stood, and they made their way to the Hall of Fire to welcome the lords home. As they came down the incline and the east stairway, they glimpsed the men entering and Raeghun with Quill's sheath belt fastened over his shoulder gave orders to a carpenter's assistant; and she listened to the sound of his voice, even in his apparent weariness more captivating than the finest Agar wood flute as he spoke.

"Have a pyre built in the east fields. We honour our fallen at dusk in two days." he told, and the apprentice left having received their instructions; then his attention came to them as they reached the base of the grand staircase and they approached. Milla met Berin with her arms around his shoulders, and his circling her waist as they shared a tender and happy moment, and Claira stared at Raeghun. The clear burning blue of his eyes, hair long enough to hang over his ears and neck and a full black beard covering his face, and then she smiled feeling the shiver through her body.

"Welcome home." he moved forward suddenly, taking her face in his hands and capturing her mouth with his in a deeply passionate kiss, the whiskers tickling her skin where it brushed and she wanted to laugh and cry and scream as her arms went around his neck to pull him closer. She had never imagined being as happy as she was at that moment, and then he released her placing his cheek to hers and his arms around her waist.

"I don't ever want to leave you again..." he whispered, and her arms tightened even more giving in to the emotions, and after a while he pulled back from her.

"I'm sorry for how I look. I'll have it taken care of before supper." he mentioned with a shy smile, and she had to laugh.

"I don't care, Raeghun." she said softly, bringing her hand to his face still feeling the warmth of his skin as he pressed his hand over hers, his eyes closed savouring her touch. A sudden high pitched shriek caught their attention, and they looked up as Mandeline came down the stairways towards them with Bella in her arms.

"I just lay her down when she woke up, so I thought she should welcome her father home." she explained as she joined them, and Bella's arms reached for Berin. He laughed as he took her and held her against him, not minding the happy cries coming from her, and they spent some moments together before Raeghun looked up towards the wings.

"Well, I'm dying for a decent bath." then his eyes came back to them.

"I'll rejoin you soon." he said, and then left to tend to himself. Milla noticed Berin's hand, still swollen and oddly out of shape.

"What happened?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"Oh, nothing. I'll ask maester Adlyn to look at it tomorrow." he assured, and then watched as Raeghun made his way up the stairs.

"But I think I ought to cleanse myself as well, before supper." he decided, and released his daughter to Milla, and kissed her cheek before leaving. Milla stepped closer to Claira and leaned over slightly.

"You haven't told him." she reminded, and Claira sighed.

"I will. I just think they need some time to settle in again, he seems to have a lot on his mind. Perhaps I should wait until after the tribute." she decided, and they entered the feast hall to await their return. Raeghun found Falgon on the third level, looking over the hall.

"Good evening, ser." he greeted, and the tall sentinel bowed to him.

"Greetings, sire. Welcome home." Raeghun smiled.

"It is good to be back. Have there been any troubles here?" he asked.

"No, our days have been quite peaceful, I am thankful to say." he reported, and Raeghun nodded feeling relieved that the consistency of their daily lives were not thrown into chaos, and that the patrols he set out seemed to have kept the peace.

"Thank you, for watching over my family for me." he said softly, and was met with the gentle smile he knew.

"It was my great pleasure, sire." then Raeghun turned to continue his way up to their bath chamber.

"You have the remainder of the evening to yourself." he allowed, and made his way to the lord's wing while Falgon watched him, also feeling blessed that he and Berin was home safely, and life would return to how it was meant to be. Or perhaps something better. It was strange and wonderful, and he didn't know if he was the only to notice a light moving through the halls. A radiant beauty that glowed more and more until she was shining... Quite like Milla did not too long ago.

"Evening, ser Falgon." he looked back to see Berin come to him, and inclined politely.

"Greetings, lord Berin." he returned.

"Glad to see the burning mountain still stands." Berin teased,

"Glad to see you're still alive." Falgon returned, and they shared a laugh.

"Oh, it will take more than an insurrection to keep us from our home." Berin told modestly as Falgon smiled again looking over the hall.

"Good. Returning home from war is always the greatest sense." he said, and Berin took him in. Almost like he was seeing something long past.

"This wasn't a war, not entirely. But I am supposing you've seen worse." he reflected, and the dark eyes met his again.

"Much worse, I'm afraid... And it is a harsh thing to say, but we... We were battle-born. Conceived, lived and died in war. It's who we are, always have been. We didn't know anything else..." Berin nudged his shoulder gently to release him from the dark and distant memory that so suddenly assaulted him, and saw his eyes clear.

"Well, peace has come again. We may relish it for as long as it lasts." he said, and Falgon nodded in agreement.

"Yes." then Berin turned to tend to his bath.

"Well, fair evening to you." he greeted, hearing the fondness returned as he made his way to the bath chamber in the east wing; but his mind rummaged. War. It was always with him, like the shadow that followed his movements. But there have not been many wars in Westeros for a long time, and Berin supposed for an instant that his friend may have once been a tribe warrior; but dismissed that instantly for his refined mannerism. Hill tribes would not have such elegant speech, not to mention the courtesy that only came from regal halls, and he mentioned that he was born in the west, from where hill tribes have been driven out long ago. Then again, with all the time he spent in both the fields and the strongholds that held them, it was possible to believe that he learnt the ways of the high-born. But there was his sword, his family's sword. The Valyrian Steel blade called Summit - 'Crown of the Mountain'. Berin stopped for a moment looking back. All this time, and I still don't know who, or what you are... And then he smiled. But, it doesn't matter now, does it? Your past isn't important, your future is. And it's here, with us. You're here, you're one of us. He continued on his way to the bath chamber to relish the warm waters while their family waited in the southern hall, where Milla held Bella on her lap next to Claira, already seated at the high table. They shared soft conversation as they watched the serving girls move up and down with pitchers of fruit press and bottles of fine spiced wine that were set on the tables along with two large barrels of dark ale rolled out by castle hands for their people.

"How do you think Raeghun would react, to knowing?" Milla asked softly as Claira's eyes went to the arch of the door.

"I don't know, he might react much the same way Berin did when you told him." she recalled him smiling and laughing, and could imagine her own husband doing the same as her hand subconsciously rested on her stomach, feeling a slight warm little tumble. But how to tell him? Just come forth, and say to him. Or a more subtle way of small hints. She had two days to decide.

"I really think you should tell him tonight. He'll be so happy." Milla encouraged her again, and she looked back.

"I want to, but they've just gotten back and I'm sure they're still restless. Let's just give them a little bit more time." Claira urged, and a serving girl approached them.

"Is there anything I may get you while you wait, my ladies?" she asked, passing a glance between them as they thought.

"Perhaps some nuts, if we have any?" Claira mentioned, suddenly developing a peculiar want for something earthy.

"And some honeyed milk, please." Milla added looking up at the girl, and she nodded.

"Yes, my ladies." she hurried back to the kitchen to retrieve their requests, returning a short while later with a wooden bowl and decanter, both filled to the brim with nuts and milk which they enjoyed slowly. Raeghun and Berin returned a while after, once again as they always were, smooth skinned, short haired and dressed comfortably in woollen breeches, fine boots and light cotton tunics, filing in with all the remainder of the household just as final preparations were being made to serve the evening feast, taking their places at the high table as others piled in at the other tables. Claira smiled as the first portion of their meal was brought out, along with horns of dark ale to the high table, and as the bowls were placed before them Raeghun smiled brightly before looking at her.

"Thank you, my sweet." As something special, she asked Jeody to prepare spiced chicken livers in a garlic cream sauce to start their feast; knowing that her husband favoured the strong, dark taste of it. He would have them every day if he could, but considering she couldn't stomach the rich meat he would only have it every few weeks, and she thought of having it served more. Her helping was the only difference in the hall, instead being served battered chunks of white fish with lemon butter. More bowls were brought out, filling the hall with its pungent smell. Claira had finished half her portion when a serving girl passed with a tray holding empty bowls to be returned to the kitchen when a breeze blew through the hall from the garden and enveloped the lady in a cloud of sweet flowers, and the strong bitter odour, and a wave of nausea struck her like a knock to her stomach. Her hands covered her mouth as she struggled against the acid rising in her throat, and concerned voices sounded around her calling for the maester to be summoned immediately before strong hands wrapped around her waist to help her outside to the garden where Raeghun had her sit down on a stone bench under a rose quarts shrub, and she breathed in the clear air eagerly to calm herself. His hand went to her face anxiously, feeling the cool of her skin.

"Claira, are you al right?" he asked, and she looked up seeing Milla stand behind him where he crouched in front of her, his eyes searching her desperately. To hide the tears forming in hers, she pitched forward wrapping her arms around his neck and held him tightly.

"Yes, Raeghun. I'm fine, I promise." she said, the sickening feeling vanishing against his heat as his arms went around her.

"Are you sure?" his hands softly stroked the length of her back, and she pulled away finding some control.

"Yes, I'm sure. You know how that smell affects me." she laughed, and he could smile with her, and after a few more moments in the clear air she stood and they returned back into the hall to see maester Adlyn rushing towards the doors with a page leading the way. He met them, alert and eager.

"What may I do for you, my lady?" he asked, and she blushed.

"I'm fine, maester. But I'm afraid some of the smells didn't agree with me tonight." and he nodded with an understanding smile.

"I see. Should you need to come see me for something to help ease you, you are most welcome." he assured, and she glanced at Raeghun at her side.

"Thank you, maester. I'm sorry to have disturbed your night." she apologised, and he bowed.

"Not at all, my lady. Not at all." he turned to revert back to his tower and they retook their places to further join the feast that included honey glazed pork roast, buttered potatoes and cheese baked vegetable pot, before lemon cakes and warm custard after which they lingered in the hall sharing one another's company and heroic tales. With Bella growing tired, Milla and Claira stood to excuse themselves.

"If you'll please pardon us, my lords. Our day has been rather long." Raeghun smiled.

"Of course. We won't be much longer." he assured, hinting to the horn in his hand; and they left the hall with the men watching them.

"Long days, indeed." Berin jested, hearing Raeghun laugh.

"And even longer months." he added, bringing the horn to his lips and swallowing eagerly. They just shared their thoughts as they finished the last of their ale before issuing the order to have the hall cleared and bid the remainder of the household a good evening, then returned to the wings for their night. Berin entered their chamber to find his wife in a soft white gown as she lay their daughter down in her crib, he discarded his tunic and boots and then approached her placing his arms around her waist while resting his head on her shoulder as he looked down at the sleeping child.

"She's growing so fast." he muttered, and Milla smiled.

"Too fast." he chuckled.

"Soon, she'll require a room of her own." he mentioned, placing his lips to her neck and feeling his muscles tense as she brought her hand to his face, relishing his touch.

"As soon as she sleeps through..." she whispered, then he slipped the gown from her shoulders and brought his hands around to cup her full breasts and he breathed in the scent of her skin.

"I've missed you, so much..." he breathed, placing another delicate kiss to her skin and she turned letting the dress fall to the ground before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And I've missed you, Berin." she smiled, and he brought his right hand into her hair to guide her lips to his, then took her from the floor to their bed where he cast off what was left of his clothing, and savoured her soft sighs against his throat.

Raeghun's warmth covered his wife's shuddering body where he lay buried in her, his lips still drowning her enraptured moans as his left hand held her shoulder wrapped around her side while her fingers strained into the muscles of his back, and the fingers of his right were locked with hers where he held her left hand against the pillows above her head. Thoroughly satisfied and his blaze calmed, he pulled back slowly, allowing her to breathe through a final pleased whimper as he placed his mouth to her neck, bringing several deep breaths into his chest.

"I love you..." he whispered softly, and her hand released from his grip to move around his neck and she held him tightly, her knees softly pushing into his sides.

"I love you, Raeghun." she returned, sounding almost like a sob and he drew back to notice a single tear trailing down her face; and his hand came to her to wipe it away, thinking he heard her scream.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I hurt you..." she smiled pulling him closer again.

"You didn't... You didn't hurt me..." he eased slightly, laying his head on her chest and taking in the smell of her. There was a sweet taste to the mounds of her breasts that he hadn't noticed before.

"I'm so happy that you're back..." and she was, truly more than anything and nothing else mattered as her arms tightened, and his pressed into her skin, then slowly somnolence fell over them, softly floating away into calm and blissfully deep sleep.

Dawn broke with golden light, and processes of the burning mountain slowly started to recede to its natural order while construction of a great pyre began in the clear fields of the east. Berin tended to the rounds of the barracks and inspection of several armoury items, having them sent to Philpot for reforging before heading to the bailey for sparring facing Gavin with an iron sword held in his right hand. He watched his opponent, smiling confidently as he swung the blade in his hand.

"Any time you're ready." he invited, and Berin gripped the sword tighter. Gavin was a good fighter, and in this condition facing him might prove a bit of a challenge. But he may have been the preferred opponent being more reserved to defence than offence.

"In a moment." he breathed in, trying to imagine his sword hand's movements reflected on his right, then moved forward in a lunge that was parried easily, as were several following attempts before Gavin ducked away from the last strike and touched the pommel of his sword to Berin's ribs. He turned smiling.

"Not bad, for your weak hand." he complimented, and Berin scoffed.

"But it's far from good enough." he brought the sword up in front of him.

"Again." he moved forward, ringing the swords again in the tolls of blades striking each other; and again the flat edge of Gavin's sword found his stomach, making him flinch in frustration.

"It might be a bit too soon for you to be doing this, Berin. You just got back the day before this." Gavin said, lowering the sword in his hand. And if he could have the opportunity to be completely honest, he didn't feel like sparring. But that was the one thing that kept him in order, that kept him strong. To finish what you started despite wanting to do otherwise. To keep going instead of just leaving it and taking it up again the day you felt like doing it, which in most instances never came.

"You're being too soft with me. You know how I am." he said watching the sentinel move forward, and he shared a smile.

"And you're being too hard on yourself. Give it a few more days, then we'll spar again." he said taking the sword from Berin's hand, which he felt himself uncharacteristically grateful for not opposing its release from his fingers, and Gavin's hand found his shoulder.

"Take a few days and rest." then he glanced down at Berin's left hand.

"And have maester Adlyn take a look at that." he urged before leaving to store the blades in the armoury again. Berin sighed and headed back into the hold to join in the rest of the day's activities, finding a seat in the southern hall for their morning meal, and attending to several other small matters before taking some time to play with his daughter in the garden during the afternoon when most were filling their time. His wife and the lady of the hold were in the garden as well, sharing a stone bench and their thoughts. Which flowers would compliment their tables at the evening banquet, which blossoms had the sweetest scent, whether they preferred red, orange or yellow roses, how odd it was that while the petals of the carnations remained white, the edges were lined with bright purple, blue or pink. How these simple notions brought a calm order to their halls, and he smiled bringing his attention back to Bella sitting on her blanket on the grass, staring at a large black and purple butterfly that feasted on a bright blue lily a few feet away. He thought about catching it, then stood up and moved slowly closer cupping his hands to close over it. Then, as he pitched forward it fluttered away on the wind, and he cursed himself. He turned back to Bella, a disappointed frown on her already severely expressive little face, the bright eyes staring at him and he had to laugh.

"I'm sorry, he got away from me. I'll be faster next time." he promised, and then felt a hand on his shoulder.

"There won't be a next time." he looked back at the blue of his friends eyes, and then down at his hand, the fingers curled gently around the butterfly to keep it in the palm of his hand.

"Thank you." he sniggered, and they joined Bella again on the grass, displaying the wondrous creature as she smiled and gurgled excitedly, after a while allowing the wings to take the wind and float away again as if it were merely sitting on a leaf. Several castle hands wandered out to light the torches surrounding the castle garden, and the lords and ladies ventured inside to the advice from a serving girl that the feast would be served soon. They supped on lamb stew with cheese stuffed pastries before a sweetness of grapes and figs, following their normal routine for the evenings; but on their way to the chambers Berin stopped at the doors leading to the east wing.

"I'll find you later. I should have the maester see to my hand." he mentioned, and Milla turned to him.

"I hope it's not serious." she said, and he shrugged.

"I don't think so. I suppose I sprained it, badly." he tried to ease, and she nodded.

"Al right. Don't be too long." she urged, and he turned to make his way up to the maester's tower.

"I'll try. That would depend on his advice." he said, and followed the incline up to the tower where he ascended the winding steps and found the maester counting his supplies while a page was tending to the arrangement of another cabinet.

"Good evening, maester." he drew his attention, and the brown eyes came to him.

"Good evening, lord Berin. How may I be of service?" he asked turning and making his way to him, and a moment of pause followed as Berin took a deep breath.

"If you'd be so kind as to tend to my sword hand, I'd be grateful." he said, and the maester nodded holding out his hands while Berin raised his.

"I believe to have sprained it." he told as Adlyn felt cautiously along the fingers and the palm along the thumb to the wrist; and then looked up anxiously.

"I'm afraid this hand wasn't sprained, lord Berin." he looked at the page still busy replacing bottles and tubs.

"Thank you for your help. Please have ser Falgon called here, and then you may take the rest of the night to yourself. Finish with that tomorrow." he instructed, and the boy stood and left after thanking the maester; and Adlyn's eyes came back to Berin's.

"Like I was saying, your hand was not sprained. It was broken. How did this happen?" he asked, and Berin looked away from him.

"Slipping through ropes..." he told, and then looked back.

"But why summon Falgon?" the maester turned and headed to a cabinet, taking out several items along with a half full bottle of aged strong wine.

"Because, apart from lord Raeghun himself, he may be the only person in this hold with the physical strength for what might need to be done." he handed the bottle to Berin, and then shrugged.

"I'm afraid my stores are low on supplies, and my shipment of poppy seeds will only arrive tomorrow. Finish that, please. But unfortunately I don't have a full one." he instructed, then turned to place his teapot on the fire and then went to his shelves to continue his rummaging through his cabinet. Berin brought the bottle to his mouth and swallowed. The wine was strong and sour, it burned its way down his throat where it struck his stomach like a stone before he gasped and gagged. The maester's eyes came back to him.

"Good, very good. Drink up." he urged, and Berin laughed.

"You want me dead, maester?" he teased, watching the maester searching for something specific.

"No, but close to unconscious might be preferable." he said without a slight, and Berin took several deep breaths before bringing the bottle up and swallowing again. A while later, feeling light-headed and the sensation of tingling stretching over his body he sat down on the chair next to the maester's desk having almost finished the bottle when the tall shadow darkened the doorway.

"You summoned me, maester?" Falgon asked stepping through, and Adlyn looked up smiling.

"I did, thank you for coming. I may be in need of your help, ser Falgon." he told, and Falgon nodded.

"Of course, maester. If I am able." he agreed, and Adlyn made his way around the desk.

"I need you to break Berin's hand again." he instructed, leaving the sentinel stunned.

"Break his hand?" he stood watching them both,

"Yes, ser. You see, after the initial break, the bones were malaligned; and have already started to mend. Should the bones not be reset in their proper positions, lord Berin may never regain any normal function with that hand. However, with the correct position, and adequate time and exercise; I don't see why he won't have the same use of his hand in a year or two." Adlyn explained, and Falgon looked at Berin.

"And you're agreeing?" he asked, and Berin forced down the remaining wine before placing the empty bottle on the table and looking at his friend with an odd smile.

"I'll admit that I'm scared shitless, but if it's not done..." he started, and then saw Falgon's shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath before he nodded.

"Al right." he moved forward, taking a position behind Berin, and maester Adlyn came to his right side and lay his hands on Berin's shoulders.

"Sit forward, and lay your hand on the table." he instructed, and Berin obeyed bringing his body forward and resting his weight on his knees while laying his left hand palm down on the table. Falgon took his hand, moving it until the palm rested on the edge, his thumb freely in the air; then he leaned forward as well laying his left hand over the fingers and his right hand on the edge of the thumb. Berin waited for a moment, feeling all the different emotions stab at him. A part wanted to bolt, while the other just wanted it over with.

"Just breathe, Berin. It will be over quickly, I assure you." the maester tried to comfort, but he had to admit it was not helping, then he started to feel soft pressure to his hand.

"Forgive me." was the last words he heard in the deep voice of his friend before he pushed down suddenly and hard, snapping the mending bone as easily as he would an autumn twig and the same stinging agony rushed through him, releasing an excruciating cry from his lungs. The pressure vanished as he strangled another painful wail, the agony rippling through him in tremors from his shoulders to his feet while the maester took firm hold of his hand and straightened the broken bone, then through a series of muffled groans he continued rubbing an oily ointment to the skin that left his hand warm and wrapped it tightly in cotton bandages and leather bands to keep it in place. Finally feeling Adlyn's hands leave him he sat back, and forced deep breaths into his chest as the tremors faded away into lighter shivers.

"Not many men would sit through something like that." the maester commented as he poured steaming water from the pot into a cup and gave it to Berin, who took it and through the shudders brought it to his mouth and swallowed eagerly. The tea was bitter-sweet and tasting of cloves, but soothing as he told both maester Adlyn and Falgon who remained the path that had led them to this; but if it could be helped he would rather not have their wives know if it was not needed, and by the sixth cup he felt more unstrained and the intense pain was now little more than a consistent throbbing.

"How are you feeling?" Adlyn asked after a while.

"Fuck, I don't know. Like I'm in some drunk dream." Berin replied with a smile leaning his head back.

"Any pain?" he tried flexing his hand, bound in position with the cotton and leather.

"No. But I suspect I'll feel it again tomorrow." he breathed, and Adlyn smiled.

"I hope to say that you may experience improvement from this point. But my advice is to avoid using your hand for several weeks, if that is possible. Should you notice any other changes, please come see me again." Adlyn told, and Berin looked at him.

"Changes?" he hoped for something more specific.

"Itching, burning, stinging, severe pain, any discolouration, swelling, involuntary spasms, stiffness-" he brought his hand to his face, feeling a weak pounding against his brow.

"Al right, I've got it. Any shit and I'm back." he decided, the list of potential problems becoming too long, and being too drunk to take in half of it in any instance.

"I should head back, Milla will kill me." he said standing up, finding that the room swayed.

"Shall I accompany you?" Falgon asked, and Berin laughed.

"That would be nice. Just to make sure I don't break my neck this time." they shared the humour, and Berin looked at maester Adlyn.

"Good night to you, maester. And thank you." he greeted with a wave, bringing a chuckle from him as well.

"And to you, lord Berin. Sleep well." Berin's smile widened.

"I will." they left the maester's tower close to midnight, driving the silence from the halls with idle conversation. Reaching the entryway to the east wing, Berin turned to his friend.

"Fair evening to you, ser. And thank you, for breaking my hand. Again." he said, seeing the tall sentinel look away from him.

"I'm happy to have helped, but I can't say that it was a pleasure." he returned, and then bowed his head.

"Sleep well." Berin smiled,

"I will. Definitely." he turned and sauntered down the hall to their chamber, entering softly and finding it dark as the candles had already either been smothered or burnt out, only a few small blue flames still emitted from the hearth. He moved forward, discarding his shirt easily before slamming into the dresser loudly.

"Oh, fuck me." he muttered, and then looked up at the figure sitting up on their bed.

"Berin, what are you doing? You'll wake Bella." Milla's voice came through the shadows.

"I'm trying to get to bed. It's not exactly easy, in the dark." he replied, and heard her snigger.

"You've walked through this room hundreds of times in the dark." before he hushed her.

"Hush, you'll wake Bella!" he returned, and the darkness faded as she brought a candle up in front of her that she lit against the heat of the hearth, and he felt grateful not having to stumble around. He cast a quick glance to the crib, listening for any disturbance but finding it quiet then made his way awkwardly to the bed where he discarded his boots and fell down on the soft mattress.

"Are you drunk?" she asked suddenly, and he looked at her.

"Maybe a little. Maester Adlyn gave me old wine." he told, and she stared at him.

"Odd medication to give for a sprained hand." she mentioned coming around to him, and he laughed.

"I don't argue with 'the healer'. If he gives you deathbell, you eat it." he said, and felt her hands on him to help release him of his breeches for the night, and then threw the sheets over him.

"What did the maester say about your hand?" she asked.

"He said it will be fine. But I won't be able to use it for a while." he reported, feeling the surges of ocean waves beneath him as he listened to her still busy with the sheets, and the world started to fade away.

"I see. In any instance, I don't believe you should strain yourself with training, yet. You and Raeghun have just returned, and you should give yourself the opportunity to settle down before conforming back to the usual routines. It's been months that you were away, you've had enough challenges for a while-" she stopped, straightening and stared at him drowning a laugh as she listened to the soft sounds coming from him. Then she turned and made her way to the crib, finding her daughter still asleep then returned to the bed to lay down, and brought the sheets over her before running her finger down his cheek and smiled. She leaned forward and placed her lips to his brow in a soft kiss.

"I love you." he stirred slightly, and she lay her head on the pillow falling asleep rather quickly only waking again to the grey haze that brought the dawn, but in the covers of a strangely unfamiliar thick mist for their location. Slowly she lifted herself up, and glanced around the room before standing and went to the crib again, where Bella still lay sleeping blissfully. Well now, she slept through... She looked at the bed, her husband also still held in the grip of slumber, deciding that she might start tending to their morning while she was up, and they were both still fast asleep. She dressed in a flowing gown of dark blue and made her way to the kitchen through an eerily vacant hold still in the earliness of the morning, where Jeody was busy preparing pastry dough for their daily supply of crispels and some of his apprentices were busy cleaning and stocking the ovens. He looked up smiling as she came down the little steps, his hands not ceasing their activity.

"Good morning, lady Milla. What can I do for you?" he asked, returning his attention to the ball of dough in front of him.

"Good morning, Jeody. I'd like to discuss this morning's selection with you." she said and he nodded.

"Of course. Is lady Claira feeling unwell?" he asked, and she stared at him for a moment.

"No, I don't believe so. But as I'm here, I might as well tend to the house matters." she said, hoping that he did not notice the change in her, just yet. And then he shrugged.

"Al right. Anything in particular you want?" she put a moment's thought into it.

"I've considered savoury tartlets, filled with bacon, cheese, onions and mushrooms; along with eggs and bacon. Do we have enough fruit press?" he motioned to one of the store rooms to his left.

"Yes, twenty barrels of grape, apple, orange and berry were delivered earlier this week." he reported, and she nodded.

"Good. Thank you, Jeody. I'll tend to the hall a bit later this morning." she decided,

"You're welcome, my lady." he returned with a soft smile, and then she headed past them into the garden to choose the flowers for their tables. She wandered for a time, admiring the boundless colours; thinking of how blessed they were to have such a diverse selection here. Every type of flower she had ever imagined grew here in the garden of Mount Ardor, all except for the famous Winter Rose that was only found in the Glass Garden of Winterfell, and the Snow Refuge of Pale Haven. Remembering that today they would honour their fallen, she discarded the notion to pick out light colours for darker ones choosing wine-red calla lilies, to be complemented by smaller white blossoms for the long tables, and deep purple roses with the red edged carnations for the high table. She headed back to the hall with her selections to show the attendants what to bring to the hall, and found Berin in the arch of the door with Bella softly whining in his arms, and he smiled timidly.

"I think she's hungry." he mentioned, and she held her arms for her.

"I'm sorry for leaving you. I'll tend to her." she said as she took her and he laughed.

"It's al right. It seems we've slept in." he looked up, trying to see through the grey veil that surrounded them.

"But, I can't really tell." he added, and they headed back to their chamber after handing the flowers off to the serving girls to collect more for the tables, finding Falgon with still damp hair ascending the grand staircase on his way to his post at the doorway of the lord's wing subsequently to his own morning routine where they greeted him. He turned and bowed formally.

"Good morning, my lord and lady." his attention went to Berin.

"How is your hand feeling?" he asked, and Berin chuckled.

"It's al right. There's no pain." he told, and Falgon nodded.

"That is good." he commented smiling, and they continued their way up the stairs to the entry of the east wing.

"So I hope. But it will still be a while before I can do anything useful." Berin said,

"You will regain the use of your hand soon. You might even find it stronger than what it was before." he assured, and Berin took that in, and they paused at the doorway.

"We will meet again later." he greeted, again met by a formal bow.

"Will you please be so kind as to inform our lady that I have already tended to our morning meal?" Milla asked, holding Bella in her arms and gently rocking her.

"Of course, my lady." Falgon agreed before they parted ways and the sentinel proceeded up the incline taking his place beside the door, waiting with two handmaidens to assume their roles. Again he heard them giggle, but it was little more than the sound of the ocean rushes. A little while later, the lord of the hold stepped out, clothed entirely in black. The girls acknowledged him respectfully before entering, and then his attention came to Falgon.

"Good morning, ser." he greeted, sounding morose.

"Good morning, sire. I trust you had a pleasant evening." he returned in his normal manner.

"Thank you, my evening was better than what I expect for today." he took a deep breath.

"Many will come to pay tribute to our fallen. And I find myself at a loss for words..." he mentioned softly, but Falgon regarded him calmly.

"If I may, sire. Do not mull on the words, allow them to come to you. When you face your people, you will know exactly what to say." he eased, and Raeghun looked up at him.

"You truly believe that?" Falgon smiled.

"Of course. And so does all of your people." he stated, and could see the uneasiness leave him.

"How much comfort my people have found in you, ser. And I confess, so do I." he told, and then slowly started forward.

"My wife should be down soon. We will meet with you in the hall." he advised, and Falgon nodded resuming his vigil until the lady of the hold appeared through the door;

"Good morning, your grace." he greeted, and for a moment all he could do was to stare at her. Her husband's presence truly made her shine, even brighter than the stars. She hadn't resorted to black; her wide, long sleeved dress was a shade in either deep plum purple or dark indigo blue with silver detailing, and a pendant with a dark gem hung on a fine silver chain around her neck. Her hair was glistening in their contrasting colours, done elegantly in delicate swirls that hung down her back and over her shoulders, and there was a summer glow off her skin; her eyes glowing their enchanting rich frozen blue. He'd never seen anyone as enamouring.

"Falgon?" her voice broke his trance, and he noticed her staring back at him.

"Is everything al right?" he laughed softly, realizing how silly he must have seemed.

"Forgive my rudeness, your grace. You look especially beautiful today." he complimented, bringing a blush to her glowing skin.

"Thank you. I didn't do anything beyond the norm, though." she mentioned closing the door as he watched her. It wasn't something she did, or didn't do. This brightness, came from within.

"I've noticed the same with lady Milla, not too long ago." he mentioned, and she smiled.

"Really? When?" he thought back, still staring at her.

"Shortly before lady Bella was born." an uneasiness came over her.

"I see... Has she told you anything?" she asked, and he looked away from her.

"No, she has not. But even if she did, I would keep such things to myself." he replied, and her hands folded in front of her abdomen as his eyes returned to her, and the uneasiness faded as she softly smiled, her hands gently pressing against herself.

"Oh... Thank you then, ser." he turned to allow her to pass.

"Shall we start your day, your grace?" he asked, and she took a deep breath.

"Yes, we shall." she agreed and they made their way down to the kitchen, where Jeody was already busy with his request for the morning and the appetizing scent hung in the air.

"Good morning, my lady." Jeody greeted as he turned.

"Good morning, Jeody. I've come to discuss this morning's serving." she said, and he smiled.

"Lady Milla has already tended to that earlier this morning. There's no need to worry." he informed, and she shrugged after a moment.

"Very well. I should thank her then. Thank you, Jeody." she said with a soft smile.

"You're welcome, my lady. I suppose I will see you again later to discuss this evening." he replied, and she turned to head back to the southern hall to help tend to its preparation.

"Forgive me, lady Milla has asked that I inform you that she has tended to that. I seem to have been distracted." she looked back at Falgon, he seemed disappointed.

"It's al right." his eyes darkened suddenly.

"No. I should have told you." he was angry at himself, for not completing something as simple as relaying a message. She stepped closer to him, reaching out her hand.

"Falgon, it's al right. Really." the moment her fingertips touched his arm he flinched back, like he'd been stung.

"I'm sorry." he muttered, staring at the area where she touched him.

"Stop apologising. Are you feeling al right?" she asked, feeling concerned. Then he smiled as he looked back at her.

"Yes, I'm fine. Your hands are... cold." she laughed.

"Oh, yes I'm sorry for that. They always are." she looked down at her hands, feeling a moment of regret for what was paid for her life.

"Always, no matter what I do." but she managed to smile again as she looked up.

"The price for being the Lady of Frost." she joked bringing ease to them, and they proceeded to the feast hall where the serving girls were preparing the tables, all centred with the flowers Milla had chosen. It was a long and quiet day, by late noon the people from Mount Ardor's dominion started to assemble in the eastern fields for the tribute; and as the sun touched the rim of the world the people of the hold started their way to join them. Berin, Milla, Falgon and Metron joined Raeghun and Claira next to the great pyre that was built, each with a small wood staff in their hand and several stacks of this wood placed around the great pyre; and as sunlight left the world a deep quiet settled over the field and Raeghun stepped forward.

"Evening. Many have travelled far, and I thank you for coming." he started, his voice carried far over the field for everyone to hear.

"This has been a difficult time, for all of us. More so for you who stand here facing me tonight..." Claira regarded him, tall and proud but sorrow laced in his words.

"I cannot bring them back to you, and nothing will compensate for the sacrifice that your families have made." a pause followed, and her eyes went to the people in front of them, their faced drawn in sorrow and the sounds of crying sounding here and there while warm arms comforted one another. She moved forward, and gently placed her hand in his feeling the tiny tremor in his muscles; but then he glanced at her and softly smiled gratefully as his fingers tightened around hers before looking back at the faces in front of them.

"I grieve with all of you, for your fathers, your husbands, your sons and your brothers who stood by my side in the face of peril. So, let this not be a day of mourning, but a day of remembrance. And not remembrance for what we have lost, but remembrance for what we have been given. We will remember hope, and courage and trueness, we remember their valour, and their strength, and their will to protect what was precious to them." she listened to him, his words becoming brighter as he spoke so beautifully. To the little boy holding and his young mother's hand, his father and her husband became a hero as great as Durran, and to the tear stricken girl wrapped in the arm of an ailing father who could not join the war effort, her brother and his son became a knight as gallant as ser Arthur Dayne. And that those who did not return, did not leave this world with regrets, knowing their homes and their loved ones will be safe, and Claira wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Their bodies have been reclaimed by the earth, and they have found peace." Raeghun told as Berin brought a burning torch to him, and he took it in is right hand.

"We do not look down on their graves, but up to the stars where they run the skies, from where they keep their vigil over us still. Smiling as they wait patiently for us all to rejoin them one day, after we have seen the last days of the lives they have given back to us." he softly released his wife's hand and made his way to the pyre, more than twice as tall as he was.

"With the burning, we send to them our love, our hopes and dreams and wishes; and our promise that each time we see the glint of a star in our night, we will remember." he carefully shoved the torch between the logs so the straw and twigs inside would take light, and then dropped the wood into the centre of the pyre as it started to blaze.

"I will remember." he said softly, and looked at Claira. She nodded and moved forward, adding her staff to the pyre as it burnt.

"I will remember." she looked at him, and he subtly nodded in approval, then Berin followed with the same gesture before Milla, and Metron and all the rest of the people as each made their promise to remember, from where they retreated back to the grounds around Garde's Post where scores of fruits, nuts and ale was shared over memories. A young woman approached Raeghun, her eyes still red from tears but a smile on her thin lips.

"Thank you, m'lord. For your wonderful words." her hand rested on a slightly rounded stomach.

"My child will know of his father's bravery, and how he stood at the side of our lord." she told, and he returned a kind smile.

"Tell him, that his father saved our people, and our lands. That he brought me home." he added, and she stifled a soft cry.

"Thank you, m'lord." she bowed to him, and then left to join the rest of her family as Claira's hands slipped around his elbow.

"That was very kind, my love." she whispered, and his shoulders moved in a deep breath.

"Our people deserve so much more..." he returned softly,

"They have you. That is enough." her head rested against his arm, and they continued to share the comfort of their countrymen until late in the night when the pyre burnt out, the final embers floating away into the night air before all returned to their beds for the night where the Lord of Flame held his Lady of Frost in his arms in the calm of night, slowly succumbing to sleep after a late but comforting warm bath.

Claira woke to a bright sunrise, and a loving kiss to her cheek as her husband rose to start his day. It was rather cold, despite a clear horizon. She lingered a moment watching him stand and move to the dresser to choose out his apparel for the day, choosing grey woollen breeches, an ivory tunic and light leather jerkin, laying them on the bed to dress and not heading down for his normal morning bath as he'd tended to that the previous evening. I have to tell him... I have to tell him today... But how? She stood, pulling her robe over her shoulders and slowly headed to the hearth to warm her cool skin from the flames that had just started to kindle again and placed her hands to her stomach, feeling the slight flutter stronger to her fingertips and she smiled as an idea came to mind. She glanced back, watching Raeghun fasten the threads of the breeches around his waist,

"Raeghun. Come here." she called to him softly, feeling her heartbeat intensify as he looked up at her.

"Is something wrong?" he asked discarding his current activity and making his way to her only in his breeches, and she looked back at the flames; still small but warm against her skin.

"No, nothing is wrong. Nothing at all." she assured, trying to ignore the frantic pounding of her heart against her ribs as his hands slid around her waist.

"Then what-" her right hand came up to the smooth skin of his cheek where his head rested on her shoulder, and she smiled through the burn of tears.

"Shhh... Feel your son." her left hand guided his down to her lower abdomen, pressing it securely to her skin. Will you move for me? For us? And a soft surge tumbled against his hand, strong and distinctive. A pause followed, and for an instant she wondered if her husband was still breathing.

"My... My son..." his breath finally found her shoulder, warm and gentle and she turned to look at him. A paleness spread across his features as he stared at her, and she turned wondering if this was the right approach. But then saw the glint of tears in his eyes as colour returned to him, and he smiled broadly.

"Claira..." her name was little more than a breath as he looked down at her, her body not revealing what lay hidden in any way and pressed his hand firmly to her stomach again, something matching disbelief and overpowering joy dancing in his eyes.

"Really?" his bright smile refused to fade despite the emotions tearing away at him, and her hands came to his chest as she nodded, battling tears of her own. He laughed, and kissed her deeply before drawing back, and as he looked down again he dropped to his knees wrapping his arms around her sides and pressed his cheek to the skin of her abdomen, holding her tightly as he laughed. Her hand rested on his shoulder, feeling the heat come off him, then the other covered her mouth to stop the cries of the tears rolling down her face and her fingers registered the shuddering of his muscles as she noticed the sounds coming from her husband. He wept. She had never seen him cry before, never... For the first time in years, they decided to spend the day within the safety of their sanctuary, allowing the handmaidens to take the day for themselves and return to their duties the next day, as was allowed for her sentinel who stood at his post at the doorway awaiting the lady. Claira and Raeghun shared the wide divan in front of the hearth of the lord's hall where he held her in his arms.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, much calmer than what he had been earlier, and she looked up at him.

"You had a lot to tend to. I didn't want you distracted." she justified, and he smiled placing his lips to her brow.

"It would have been a severe distraction, I suppose." he agreed, and they shared a soft laugh before her head returned to his chest, listening to his powerful heartbeat and his arms softly tightened around her.

"I can't believe this..." he whispered, the only emotion left in his words the extreme happiness and she pressed her self closer.

"Neither could I, for the first few weeks. But it's true." she assured him, to an excited laugh. A soft knock at the door made her sit up, and then she glanced at him for approval for which he nodded.

"Enter." the door opened slowly, and Milla silently slipped inside before closing the door.

"Good morning, my lord and lady. My apologies for disturbing you." she excused, and Claira smiled warmly.

"You didn't disturb us, Milla. Won't you join us for a moment?" she invited, and Milla returned the smile as she came forward to claim a seat.

"Is everything al right?" she asked as she sat down on a chair next to the divan.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry for not tending to the kitchen this morning." Claira apologised, bringing a snigger from Milla.

"It's fine. I've tended to that, will you be joining us?" she passed a glance between them, and Raeghun smiled.

"Not this morning, I'm afraid. But we will resume our usual routine this evening." he decided, and she nodded.

"I will have servings brought to you here." she offered, and he nodded.

"Thank you, Milla. May I ask you to have our entire household join us in the feast hall tonight, and have Berin come and see me when he can." she smiled, realizing the intent.

"Of course. Shall I arrange this evening's banquet with Jeody as well?" she asked excitedly, and Claira blushed.

"If it's not too much trouble." she mentioned.

"Not at all, I'd love to. I'll return here after." she decided, and then stood to return to her duties.

"Thank you so much, Milla. What would I have done without you?" Claira breathed, glancing at her husband, still smiling and eyes glowing.

"I'm always here to help, Claira." she left the lord's wing, allowing them to share it in privacy as she headed down to the southern hall where the serving girls set the last of the feast ware, arranging that a tray with two servings be delivered to the lord and lady and giving instructions that the word be spread to all that their attendance was required at their evening feast. Then she left for the barracks to seek out Berin, finding him in counsel with ser Austinus with a report on the progress of their guards' training, and waited patiently for them to finish hearing that the training went well but might require some motivation for some of their younger members.

"Their motivation should be remaining part of this hold. If they want wealth and fame, they'll sooner seek it elsewhere." she heard Berin say, sounding rather annoyed and Austinus nodded.

"Very well, my lord. As you will." he agreed, and then moved away and Milla approached.

"Rough morning?" he looked back at her with a soft smile.

"Not really. Just trying to 'motivate' some members." he joked, and she nodded.

"Well, as soon as you're done with your 'motivation', lord Raeghun has requested your attendance." she informed, and he glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the Hall of Fire.

"Is something wrong?" and she smiled.

"Nothing you should worry about." she told, and he seemed to ease.

"Very well." he agreed, and she turned to tend to the rest of her duties.

"You can take Bella with you, if you want." she mentioned, and he thought on that. After finishing his business he sought out Mandeline who sat with Bella in her room, playing with her doll.

"I'll take my daughter for a while, I'm sure you have some things of your own to tend to." he mentioned, and she stood.

"That's not necessary, my lord." he raised his arms to her.

"Go on. I'll have you called when needed." he urged, and she thanked him before he left, on his way to the lord's wing and knocking on the door. A moment later, his friend's voice allowed him entry and he stepped through.

"You requested my attendance, my lord?" he asked, and Bella shrieked happily as her eyes came to Claira who stood and came to them as she reached for her.

"My little nymph." Claira took Bella in her arms, and planted a series of soft kisses to her cheek as she turned to spend some time with her and Raeghun greeted his friend.

"I did. Join me in the garden." they left the shadows of the hall for the cool, clear air of the lord's garden and settled on the marble basin of the fountain.

"I want the order given for all of our members to be present in the southern hall, for this evening's banquet; except for the necessary numbers to hold the gate." Raeghun instructed,

"Very well. Anything else?" Raeghun smiled.

"No, that's all... for now. I'll give the rest of the instructions this evening." he said, leaving Berin slightly flustered. It was odd to have the entire hold summoned to the hall, but he seemed happy enough so he left it at that.

"How's your hand?" he asked changing the subject, and Berin looked down.

"It's good. There hasn't been any severe pain, or other problems." he reported, and Raeghun smiled.

"Wonderful. I need to thank you, Berin. I can't imagine what would have happened if you weren't there with me." he said, casting a glance at the clear water.

"We took care of each other. You would have done the same." Berin replied, thinking back to the night when he struggled with fever and his friend sat awake at his side through the dark. But it was over, and they were home with better days in their future. They shared better conversation before his time came to leave the lord's wing to attend their morning in the feast hall and he retrieved Bella from Claira with the promise that they would reunite again soon. The members of their hold broke their fast on fresh fruit and sweet grain, with cheese and tomato bread rolls along with flamed sausages and tea, after which Milla tended to Bella's feeding while Berin saw to the requested alterations of their guard rounds, giving the order that those who remained assemble in the southern hall with the evening banquet before heading back for his daughter and Milla returned to her plan for the day. Berin decided to spend the rest of theirs in the garden. So, with Bella in his arms he walked through the halls, meeting Falgon emerging from the incline on his way back from the maester's tower, likely having returned some of the books he had borrowed.

"It's a peaceful day. Would you join us in the garden?" Berin asked as he turned towards him, and Falgon nodded.

"Of course. Days like these should be appreciated more often." he mentioned with a gentle smile, and they proceeded to the outside garden with all its rich colours and smells; and to the best of their efforts tried to teach the colours of the many different flowers to Bella as they day dragged on. By late noon, Bella was crawling on the grass, recently having found that she could as Berin sat watching her, urging her to come forward to him and rewarding her efforts handsomely each time she reached him and admiring her energy, and then allowing her to make her way back to his friend who sat on the other side. He looked up at the branches above them, dotted with beautiful white blossoms.

"Can I ask you to hold on to her for just a moment, I'll be back." he asked, and Falgon looked up as Bella reached him, hauling herself up against his leg.

"Certainly." then Berin stood and made his way around the tree while Falgon rose to his feet as well, bringing Bella up gently against his chest.

"Well, while he's busy..." he decided to see if any ships were crossing the horizon and followed the garden path to the back where the stone balustrade separated the castle from the Sunset Sea, and pointed to a shadow gliding over the water bringing her attention to it. They watched for a while as it crossed their view, and disappeared under an approaching sunset.

"You'll see this all the time, here. This place, your home is the most wondrous you'll ever know." he told her smiling, and her hands touched his face.

"Ata!" a sudden pain stung at him, as a dark and distant memory came back; one shrouded in a black hue and his hand took hers gently, and held it. You will never meet their fate... He closed his eyes, forcing the memory and the bitter stab away as he claimed a deep breath; and then looked at her again. Happy in his arms.

"Let's go see what your father is up to." he suggested and headed back the way he came, finding Berin under the tree staring up.

"Troubles?" Falgon asked as they reached him, and he laughed.

"I wanted to pick a flower for her, but it's out of my reach." Falgon looked up at the many white blossoms.

"Which one?" he scanned them, and then Berin pointed at a large flower just above him.

"That one." it was pure white with large petals, seeming not to have suffered the wither of the storms. Falgon reached up, taking hold of the stem and snapped it before bringing it down and handing it to Bella who stared at the flower, her tiny hands holding the soft petals between her fingers.

"Thank you, that should keep her busy." Berin smiled, and then held out his hands to take her.

"If it's al right, I'd like to hold her just a little bit longer." Falgon asked softly, his eyes deep and nostalgic, and Berin's hands lowered.

"Sure." he watched them, how this great strong man changed.

"Oh yes, you had daughters." Berin recalled, and then mentally slapped himself. No, no that's not right.

"No, sisters." he corrected, and Falgon glanced at him.

"Yes, beautiful baby sisters. Fairer than the Targaryen queens." he told as he looked back at Bella against his chest.

"They were stolen from this world, too soon..." he breathed, and Berin felt his nerves melt. Suddenly his daughter shrieked, throwing her hands up and down excitedly before bringing the white petals to her face, and it brought them to laughter.

"I believe that was a 'thank you' to her favourite knight for her pretty flower." Berin teased, and then looking at the fiery sheen on the horizon of twilight he recalled his instructions from earlier.

"Lord Raeghun has asked that all members be present in the feast hall this evening." he informed, and Falgon acknowledged the request.

"Very well." they lingered in the garden a while longer, until the castle hands came out to light the torches and a serving girl met them to announce that the banquet will start soon, then they returned back into the hold, preparing themselves for whatever awaited them while Mandeline resumed Bella's care before making their way to the feast hall where the delightful smell of garlic roast game with creamed vegetables and pumpkin fritters hung in the air, and finding it much livelier than normal with numerous members from all orders of the castle. Before the Fervent Hearth, already seated at the high table the lord of the hold was garbed in the rich colours of his house, and by his side his lady was dressed in a beautiful wide sleeved gown of peacock blue silk with bright red lining, the neckline, sleeves, waistband and seams decorated richly with large silver embroidered lilies displaying bright red cores. Her throat, ears and brow adorned with silver, pearl and sapphire, and her hair held back with a jewelled pin from where it hung down the length of her back. Milla smiled with excitement from her seat, apparelled in her green wide sleeved court dress with a girdle of gold amulets, with her hair naturally framing her lovely face and then draping over her shoulders and down her back. Berin approached Raeghun who held a chalice of sweet mead in his hand to greet him, and wondered what further instructions he would give as mentioned this morning.

"Good evening, lord Raeghun." he looked up and smiled, his blue eyes brighter than normal.

"Good evening, Berin." he returned, not at all seeming vexed or anxious of anything.

"Is everything al right?" Berin asked, not being able to place the behaviour of his best friend tonight.

"Everything is fine, my friend." he assured, still smiling. Berin looked back, registering the many faces. The greatest part of the household's orders and their members waited here, assembled as requested, and Berin looked back at Raeghun.

"Everyone has been summoned to the hall as per your instruction... Has something happened?" he asked, feeling a bit strange and Raeghun replaced his chalice on the table.

"Yes. Something has." he told, and Berin felt something like the edge of a dagger up his spine. Then his friend looked at his wife, taking her hand that rested on the table.

"After all these many years, our wait has finally ended." he looked back smiling, his voice echoing off the walls as a silence took the hall and the only sound left was Bella's soft bubbling where she sat on Mandeline's knees. Berin stared at them, feeling both cold and warm, the sensation of prickles spreading across his body and his lips pulled up in a wide smile.

"Do you mean..." he started, not knowing how to finish as his eyes went to Claira and glimpsing her hand against her stomach as she glanced at Raeghun, gasping to stifle an elated utterance; and Raeghun's fingers tightened around her hand.

"Yes. My wife carries my son within her." he declared, and the once silent hall erupted into a joy that would shatter even the walls of Storm's End. Drunk on happiness, Berin rounded the table extending a hand to Raeghun, whom stood and took it mirthfully before Berin's free arm went around his shoulders and brought him closer in a powerful fond embrace.

"This is wonderful." he pulled back releasing his friend as Milla stood to follow, and more members rose to offer their praise, and turned his attention to Claira as he moved forward and placed his arms around her in another gentler embrace.

"Congratulations, my lady." he said softly, and felt her arms gently tighten around his shoulders.

"Thank you, Berin." he returned to his seat, soon joined by his wife while the high table received more visitors and he glanced at her.

"Did you know?" he asked, and she blushed in a nod.

"You could have told me." she took his hand in hers.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to ruin it." she excused, and he sat back laughing; not being able to ease the smile or douse the elation. After four years, this great house grew; and their promise would remain. Despite everything, their promise was kept. He looked at them both, again feeling warmer. From the Ashes we Rise. Stronger we Rise...