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.

15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15 – THE HEIR

It was late at night on yet another full moon, and the new faces of those accepted into Mount Ardor's service roamed their halls. Life in the great hold proceeded peacefully each day as it always had, while the head of their Sentinels returned from his training each second day with cuts and bruises, but seemed in good spirit and reported that he was doing well despite harsher training than what they were used to. Once, Milla had begged for the training to end, but he insisted that he would continue with it until he felt satisfied with his achievement, and it was left at that. Raeghun lay on their bed next to his wife, holding a small book in her hands; with his head resting against her abdomen, listening to the gentle sounds inside her as he told a story of when giants still dwell among the first people and his right hand softly tracing the curve under a soft white gown. He couldn't stop the smile, joyful that the swell of Claira's stomach had become clearly sizeable. The uncomfortable swelling of her hands and feet had started as well, but he found it pleasantly rewarding to spend some time each evening just gently treating these areas, and on several occasions she fell asleep to his touch. Just a little bit longer, then we will finally meet you... A sudden nudge against his cheek made him draw back in surprise, and he laughed.

"He kicked me, the little grundle!" then he heard her laughing softly above him.

"Well, that's what you get for bothering him when he wants to sleep." she teased as he looked up, seeing her closing the book and laying it on the small table next to the bed.

"Which child doesn't enjoy a story at bed time?" he asked, stroking the curve again before placing his lips against her in a soft kiss.

"Perhaps he didn't find this story appealing. Giants and Snarks and Grumkins... We used to hear stories of that, my brothers loved it but it scared me mindless." she mentioned, laying her right hand on the warm skin of his shoulders as he pulled himself up, bringing his face to hers.

"Then, shall I try Fairies and Unicorns and Mermaids?" he proposed, making her snigger again as her arms pulled around his neck.

"I was thinking of Heroes and Princesses and Kings. But we'll know his preference soon enough, I'm sure." she said, and he smiled lowering his mouth to hers in a deeply loving kiss before drawing back and running his fingers up along her cheek and into her hair as he stared at her, again marvelling at what fate has given him.

"I love you, so much... Both of you." he whispered, and she returned his smile gently pulling herself up against him, her lips touching his shoulder as she held him.

"And we love you." his arms went around her, holding her close in the deep of night where they surrendered to sleep and woke to the orange light of the morning. Raeghun stood and tended to his morning routine before returning, and finding his wife still lingering between the sheets as he approached; sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her, he softly ran his hand over her back and hip.

"Are you al right?" he asked, and she softly moaned.

"I feel a bit strange, but I'll be fine... I'll get up in a moment." she mumbled, and he nodded.

"Rest as long as you need to, my sweet. I'm sure Milla would have no objections to tending to the kitchen, I'll ask that she come up later this morning to help you." he suggested, and then she looked at him.

"But Raeghun-" she started, but he smiled.

"Don't worry. You and our baby are what is important now. And if you feel the need to remain in bed, then do so. Maester Adlyn will tend to you." he further prompted, and she sighed.

"There's no need for that." she said, and a moment of silence followed as he stared at her; taking in the little more than usual pale to her cheeks.

"Are you sure?" he asked, bringing her to a soft laugh.

"Yes. I'll be down before cook Jeody serves." she promised, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek before standing and leaving the chamber and she eased again on the bed, running her left hand over the curve, softly sniggering. You're so strong... Could I ask you to be a little bit gentler with me? Sometime during the night, a sudden kick to her lower back left her in a considerable degree of pain, and even now she could still feel the tingling sensation down the back of her legs. She looked up at the canopy of the bed, at the depiction it held which was a phoenix rising from a crown and surrounded by the rim of the sun. She had always thought it beautiful, and again slowly succumbed to a shallow sleep as a soft motion slid past her hand pulled into a vague dream of sunlit fields, her family around her, the glint of a valyrian steel blade and a black haired boy with burning blue eyes. With morning light spilling through the door, a soft knock at the door stirred her from sleep, and she allowed entry to Milla and two more handmaidens who tended to the chores of the wing. Milla smiled warmly as they stepped inside.

"Good morning, my lady." she greeted, receiving in turn the fondness.

"Your lord husband has asked that we leave you to your rest, if you so wish." the court maiden mentioned as she rose from the bed.

"I'll be just fine, lady Milla." she allowed her feet to reach the wood of the floor, still feeling the soft pricks to her feet while Milla searched her wardrobe for a suitable dress, after a few moments pulling a light coloured loose fitting dress with thick fabric over the gold and green bodice which would not require the use of a corset, a high waistband and wide sleeves that would hug her wrists with soft gold cords; and of course soft flat slippers in a shade of peach to match the dress. They shared idle conversation as Claira proceeded to apply the sage oil to her skin before being helped into the dress, and the back laces gently fastened to her figure. Her hair was braided, and draped over her left shoulder, and a fine gold chain with a pearl pendant hung from her neck; and seeing that all was in order the ladies departed the lord's wing, leaving the maidens to continue their tasks and finding Falgon awaiting them at the doorway.

"Good morning, your grace. I trust you are feeling better." he greeted with a formal bow as Milla closed the door behind them.

"Good morning, ser. Yes, I am. Thank you." she returned, but not entirely being able to free herself from the sensitivity down her legs, then he turned raising his hand.

"Shall we start your day, your grace?" he proposed, and she moved forward slowly.

"I assumed you would be training today?" she asked as they took the hallway down, and he glanced at her.

"Not this day, your grace. Lord Berin has some matters to attend to here, we will return to the training grounds tomorrow." he advised.

"And it is going well?" she enquired, and he chuckled.

"Very well, I am pleased to say. He is quite capable of applying his initial training to his current trials. I believe that before long, he will meet the degree he wishes for." he further reported, as Milla took that in silently. Too many times he had come home with multiple red weals across his back and legs, bruises to every part of his body; but no matter how she pleaded or argued with him he would not concede, his only response to the injuries was that Falgon was a challenging trainer, but found relief in his notion that it may not continue for much longer. They entered into the Hall of Fire, most of the faces of those moving up and down the stairs and hallways belonging to newer members of the hold while handmaidens and chamber maids continued to see to the maintenance of the different wings, servant's quarters and the barracks, hauling old, empty and dirty items to the kitchens and washhouse to be exchanged, except for the soft face of Mandeline coming up their way with Bella fidgeting in her arms.

"Good morning, my ladies and ser Falgon." she greeted, her eyes resting on Claira.

"You look more radiant each time I see you, my lady." she complimented, bringing a soft blush to the pale cheeks.

"Thank you, Mandeline." she returned, watching the nurse adjust Bella's weight on her hip.

"I've been advised that the kitchens will be serving soon, the lords are already seated." she told, and then glanced at Milla.

"But I'm afraid her coral staff has been forgotten in your chambers. I'll just take a moment to fetch it." she said, her bright eyes glinting.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Milla asked after a moment's pause, and she smiled.

"If it's not too much trouble, my lady." she accepted, and Milla turned to Claira.

"Go on, we will meet with you again soon." she urged, and Claira nodded before watching as they headed to the east wing to retrieve the coral staff, before glancing at the stairway down to the second level where the light of the great hearth drenched the hall in light. For a moment the steps seemed narrow and frightening as her hands rested against the curve of her stomach and a soft flutter passed her hand. You're right, I'm being silly... and then brought her attention back to Falgon whom patiently waited next to her, and she smiled.

"Shall we proceed?" she asked, in an unusual attempt to bring confidence back to herself; and he returned a gentle nod.

"Certainly, your grace." she moved forward, carefully down the steps as she counted in her steady descent one, two, three, four, five, six, seven... Slowly as the light of the hearth neared them she made her way down the stairs towards the feast hall for their morning. A sudden hard clamour of falling trays from above drew her attention, and a single step reached too far; she felt herself tumbling forward as a terrified gasp escaped her lips. She braced for the harsh impact with stone stairs and closed her eyes; but instead a strong and gentle arm wrapped around her waist between swollen breasts and a distended stomach; bringing her to a pause.

"My apologies, your grace. Are you hurt?" she looked up at Falgon next to her, his face for a moment in the shadow before he brought his eyes to hers; his arm anchored her in place on still unsteady legs and her hand clenched his forearm, trembling. She stared at him, and for the first time she could see into his eyes, cleared by the light of the fires around them. Eyes that were normally shadowed, or too far to make out this clearly. They were brown, a shade so deep they seemed red.

"Take your hands off the lady at once!" a young guard freshly accepted into the members of the barracks commanded from the level below them, with a blade drawn in his hand. Falgon moved, blocking her from his view, despite not entirely noticing the air subtly darkening around him she knew what his instinct could drive him to do. Her hand tightened around his arm, still shivering.

"Don't..." she pleaded in a whisper, and watched as his hand slid away from the grip of his sword. Then she looked at the boy at the bottom of the stairway.

"If not for these hands, ser; you would have found me bloody at the bottom of the steps. Put away your weapon!" she ordered, and the young guard stepped back shamefully. She looked up at Falgon.

"Thank you." he nodded respectfully, and escorted her the rest of the way down the steps to the safety of a handmaiden whom accompanied her further to the southern hall. Then he turned, looking at the guard behind him.

"Bare steel in my queen's presence again, and I will kill you." he promised, eerily calm. The young guard felt his blood run cold as he stared at the dark eyes. The threat was real... more real than a man running at him with a dagger drawn. Then Falgon turned away from him and headed down the steps, through the hall to the barracks and found himself in the outer bailey between the sounds of steel, whistling arrows and grunts of training soldiers. He looked up at the blue sky, feeling the heat to his arm. It was so strange, for months now the touch of her fingers to his skin burnt, and he could imagine it resembling the sensation of pressing a white hot iron to his arm, and for an instant he battled against a painful utterance. He hadn't experienced any real degree of pain for ages, and for just a moment his thoughts went to the brand on his chest. He had no idea why he had it now, or where it came from, but it would occasionally emit a similar burning sensation, reminding him that the small container he received from maester Adlyn long ago was nearly spent and bringing the notion that he might enquire with him later to replace it.

"That was harsh, Falgon. He's still young." he heard the voice of their master-at-arms behind him, and looked back to see him approach from inside the hold.

"He's spring green..." he muttered, returning his eyes to the sky while Austinus stared at him curiously.

"How many years have you seen, if you'd pardon my asking?" he suddenly asked, and Falgon looked back at him finding the question out of place.

"In my thirties, I believe. I haven't paid any mind to my name day in... a long time." he tried to brush it off, and then saw the master nodding.

"I see. He is but a boy, several years your junior. He's new here, and anxious to please his lord and lady. The minds of young ones have a tendency to require some restraint. Understand though, he doesn't have the kind of experience that you do." he tried to ease, and Falgon breathed in deeply. His reaction might have been slightly unnerving. The boy wasn't a danger to her, but with her next to him the glint of steel forced him to react to it the only way he knew how...

"I'll apologise to him later. I don't handle threats well." he confessed softly, but heard Austinus laughing.

"Especially in the presence of our lady. She favours you." he teased, bringing a smile from the sentinel.

"I am her humble servant. My existence is but to assist her elegance in any way that she is in need of." he returned, and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Aye, it is. And you take your responsibility very seriously, perhaps more so than any other guard in this castle." Austinus admired him, and he looked back at the elderly man mirroring the sense of confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked, meeting the confident smile.

"I'm old, Falgon. Not blind. I saw what happened. First off, you saved our lady and her unborn child from a potentially crippling if not fatal fall, and then you deliberately exposed your back to a drawn blade, whether you noticed it or not. Despite the conditions, you broke a cardinal rule of the sword; luckily I'm assuming that with your experience, had that poor boy been a real enemy he wouldn't have stood a snowflake in the seventh hell's chance against you" he hinted, and they shared a small laugh.

"Many have tried. Not with much luck, I'm afraid." he joked, and then Austinus stepped back.

"Well, we should head inside to eat something. It will be another long day for us." he mentioned, looking over the men slowly discarding their activities to make their way to the feast hall.

"Go on, I might have something later." Falgon said, returning his eyes to the sky and the master-at-arms left with the others into the hold while he continued to wonder. But dismissing the thoughts he went back to the hall, gathering up the books he finished to exchange them with the maester while retrieving a new poultice; and the remainder of the day passed as it otherwise normally would with Falgon in the company of the ladies while the lords tended to their businesses, and darkness returned to the land to settle in for the night.

It was mid morning when Berin finally fell down on his knees, exhausted and aching. After weeks of enhancing his speed between the posts, and increasing his agility by avoiding the logs swinging from the branches, it was time to face the course which utilized all of his abilities. It would require him to move fast as much as fluently to avoid more logs, precise control to avoid the shafts angled in the ground, and his goal was to reach the end of the course in as little time as possible, each time attempting to better the extent it took to find the exit while having to touch his blade to numerous targets set throughout the labyrinth of logs and shafts and gulleys and dikes and obstacles; all with a single rule: Forward. Always Forward. Falgon demonstrated to him how it was done multiple times, moving easily through the course like a ghost through a breeze, evading the logs precisely no matter from which direction they came, and touching the tip of his sword to each of the target posts as he went. Clearly, this was something he had done thousands of times. Now, for each time Berin would take a step back, or miss a target, the flat of Summit's blade would lash at his back or legs, leaving red scars. He breathed deeply, reaching for a single hope in the struggle... Only after mastering this course, he was promised to meet his friend with a blade. Fresh cuts stung at his skin, and new bruises pulsed in his back and legs. He looked up at Falgon in front of him, with an amused grin.

"Good. But you can do better." he encouraged, and Berin sighed. Is this really worth it..? He looked at his hands, shaking on the ground.

"I... I'll try..." he muttered, and as if reading his thoughts Falgon glanced away.

"My father told us, if you give up you're weak. There is only one outcome for the weak." he told, and Berin looked back at him; feeling the air burn in his lungs.

"This is hard..." he confessed, not having realized the extent of his request when he approached the great sentinel in the Hall of Fire; but saw the dark eyes watching him with a strict if yet understanding notion.

"I know. And it's going to be harder on you. I started younger than you did." he explained, making Berin glance back at the maze. He couldn't imagine running this kind of course at seven years old, to be made to endure this kind of harshness so young.

"But this?" he started, and heard Falgon scoff.

"Another clemency I've applied to your training. My father's lashes would leave you bleeding." he told, and Berin raised himself to his feet still shaking of exertion, newly realizing the countless blemishes over the warrior's body apart from the key-shaped scar over his chest. It burnt in him, almost despising a stranger he had never met.

"Your father was a cunt." he said suddenly, of the notion that for children this was closer to torture than training. How many days did they suffer their wounds? How many nights were they kept from sleep of the pain edging through their small bodies? I started younger than you did... Four? Three? Some time before he could actually recall memories. He stared at Falgon as a silence followed, and then saw his shoulders lower as he breathed out, and looked away from him towards the logs hanging from the branches.

"My father was many things. But he was still my father." he said softly, the tone of his deep voice bordering on sorrow more than resentment.

"Strength meant that much to him; that he was willing to do this to his own sons?" he asked, and then the dark eyes came back to him, slightly harder than before.

"Tell me honestly, why did you ask me to train you?" he returned a question, a challenge in the words as they stared at each other. Berin looked down at the ground, recalling each time he witnessed his friend draw his blade, in sparring and distinctively the attack on their party in the woodlands close to Riverrun... How he admired him. Each time his hand gripped the hold of his great sword, it left a spark in his chest; a spark he wanted to ignite and let blaze just as Falgon could, so well, so effortlessly.

"Because... I want to be as strong as you. As fast as you. As good as you." he finally accepted, here in the safe silence of the woodland, and saw his friend move forward approaching him.

"My father was hard, bordering on cruelty. But he made me everything that I am. I hated him for a long time, until the day he lay Summit in my hands, and I realized what it was all for, what it all meant. Would you, or anyone of your family have trusted me if I was anything but this?" he asked, again to a drawn out silence, and fresh respect dawned on him as he had to acknowledge that he could not imagine this man as anything but what he was. Powerful, fearless, proud and daunting as much as he was gentle, tranquil, sincere and kind. True and concrete, proven and loyal to the core he was Falgon of the Fire Hall, and righteously so. Then he walked forward again passing Berin, heading towards the labyrinth.

"If you want it to end, I will not ridicule you. Not everyone can tolerate this kind of training." Falgon said, stopping next to the entrance to the course and turning back; allowing his friend the opportunity for a final decision. A decision that will determine the outcome of a great part of his future.

"Now, do you wish to proceed with this, or to abandon it?" Falgon asked, awaiting back Berin's answer before he followed with a renewed smile.

"Our family doesn't give up, Falgon. Ever." he reminded, preparing himself for another run through the course, and heard a pleasant laugh from his friend.

"Good. Again." he instructed, and Berin took his place between the angled shafts that would guide him through the intricate maze. He took it in – dodge, right, left, dodge, dodge, target, left, dodge, right, left, dodge, target, right, dodge, right, target... He felt light-headed from thinking about it and glanced down at his feet.

"Try not to force your reflexes. Register the moment, and react to it." Falgon advised, and Berin nodded. He brought a deep breath into himself, and lowered himself for the dash through the hindrances.

"And remember..." Falgon started, and Berin smiled.

"I know. Forward." he ended, to the contented grin of his friend.

"Always forward." he agreed, and then he moved forward into the system that would make him stronger, faster and better in less time than he initially predicted as moments, days and weeks followed. The lashes to his back and legs healed, slowly becoming less and less before vanishing entirely, and one warm day he finally faced his final trial. The great sentinel stood before him, the great blade held in both his hands as he waited, and the dark eyes focused on him intently.

"Your training is at its end, and now it is time to pass judgement on you. You have received the same training I have. Push yourself against me as hard as you wish, and I will defend myself accurately." he instructed, and all throughout his body Berin's muscles shivered with every kind of emotion he could identify – fear, excitement, anxiety, anticipation... All he had suffered, had come down to this. He gripped the sword tighter, feeling the new strength of his sword hand and how it stretched through him while forcing steady deep breaths to expand his lungs, and listening to the world around him. The wind through the trees, the birds singing their songs, the trickle of a stream, the cicadas in the grass, the horses grazing on the shrubs somewhere nearby and the intimate suppressing silence with his heartbeat in his mind. Forward... Always forward... Then he moved, forward...

With late noon, the horses made their way steadily over the fields back to Mount Ardor as Berin smiled happily. He could not exceed his friend of course and accounted that to his clear physical strength, and enhanced experience, but he came close and he was content with what he had achieved, feeling revived in many ways. He looked at the back of the man leading the way home, grateful for the time he had given with no obligation and no expectancies, simply for the betterment of a single man. How great their people would be, if this kind of training was applied to all. Their force would be unstoppable... They passed under the gate into the bailey where they dismounted and gave their horses to the care of the stable boys before heading into the hold to reunite with their people. They spied Raeghun on the second level in discussion with Metron, perhaps discussing the monthly taxation ledgers and new appointments.

"Well, our day is done. I believe that you will be allowed to take the rest of the day for yourself." Falgon mentioned as they headed towards the grand staircase, and Berin smiled.

"Thank you, my friend. Where are you off to?" he asked.

"I may rejoin her grace's company, should she have need of me." he mentioned as they started heading up the stairs.

"Or if she simply wishes for it." Berin teased, and Falgon laughed.

"Or if she simply wishes for it." he agreed, reaching the second level and Raeghun glanced at them with a smile before returning his attention back to the court master.

"That will be all for today, Metron. See that all appointments are tended to." he instructed, and turned towards them as they neared.

"Well now, you're back early today." he noted, and Berin laughed.

"Thankfully, and we won't be returning again." he reported, and Raeghun passed a glance between them.

"Your training has ended?" and Falgon nodded.

"It has; with fine conclusion I am delighted to say." he added, bringing another smile from their lord.

"Good. Very good. I am pleased to hear it." he approved, and then his eyes went away from them.

"So, let us see the result of this secretive training." they looked back to see Edur smiling behind them, and Berin turned towards him.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, and Edur shrugged.

"Oh, why not? I haven't had a good spar in ages." he encouraged, and Berin looked back at Raeghun.

"I must confess I am quite curious myself." he chuckled, and glanced at Falgon whom then sighed and brought his attention to Berin.

"Well, try not to hurt anyone." he advised with a sure grin, making Berin laugh.

"Very well, if you wish." he agreed, and they started down the stairs towards the outer bailey where they took up a position in the centre of the area, and Edur drew his blade. Berin glanced at Falgon a final time, whom had come to oversee his teachings and then drew his own blade and prepared himself. Edur stood watching him with a smile.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and Berin breathed in calmly bringing a confident grin back to his opponent.

"Whenever you are." he said, receiving an approving nod. Edur moved forward into an attack, in an instant feeling the blade averted and the cold of steel resting against his neck. It was so fast, he didn't register the retaliation, and looked right to see Berin beside him smiling confidently. He laughed, and prepared for another strike. He studied Berin, noting the new air about him and then moved forward in a different motion; and again the sword cut through air and the blade rested against his back. He was unquestionably better than before, decidedly faster, by all odds more agile; and not once did he move back to parry the attacks that came towards him and he breathed as he watched the head of the sentinels' order. His body moved in ways he'd never seen before, while his feet remained rooted where they were when not moving forward... Only forward... He was undeniably more audacious as he stood smiling, and his green eyes glinting. Once more... Edur moved, and steel found steel as he pushed forward, but his body was directed away with the motion of his attack, and in an instant the sword lay against his stomach. He laughed pleasantly and then eased, the men stepping away from one another and sheathing their swords.

"I'm impressed. Truly remarkable, my lord." he congratulated, extending a hand to Berin who took it in a happy gesture before glancing at Falgon, also smiling broadly in approval next to the lord of the hold. Then they approached them, sharing more contentment before heading back into the hold to enjoy the remainder of the day as the lords spent some time in the garden and their tall sentinel made his way to the lady's common room to rejoin their company until they were summoned to the feast hall for the evening banquet. Being in the gardens, the lords were seated at the high table expecting their wives while waiting to be served, passing the time on sweet mead and nuts and sharing idle conversation on training, the techniques that could be applied to the training of their guards, the state of their country; the Corridor's illustrious trade of honey, sheep herds, wool and mutton. The hall was quiet, with only a few serving girls still setting the tables while their members started to assemble at their tables, and then Raeghun's eyes lit up as the lady of the hold entered along with Milla and Mandeline at her sides, Bella in the arms of her nurse and her protector following before seeing her safely into the hall and taking his leave. Since nearly falling down the steps a time ago, her attendants were careful to assist her closely through the halls. He stared at her taking in her form, her tiny figure and the sure curve of her abdomen; how beautiful she was with their most precious within her. She was smiling, laughing as they made their way to the high table. They stood as the ladies reached them, and Claira's shining frost blue eyes met his, sparkling with excitement.

"Evening, my sweet." Raeghun greeted, holding his hand to help seat her at their table. She paused, running her hand over the swell and he slightly tensed feeling the same excitement he saw in her eyes kindling in his chest.

"Claira?" he turned further towards her, eager for a response and she blushed slightly through a stifled laugh.

"I've chosen a name." she announced, and the eager tingle in his body transformed to a thrilled blaze through his veins as he had to smother a laugh of his own.

"And?" he asked quickly, the anticipation enough to almost drive him mad as he took both of her hands. She glanced back at Milla behind her, smiling as she held her hands together in front of her face tensely. Maester Adlyn had put forth many unique names for a while, and she was appreciative for the honourable mentions, but she finally chose one that she found truly fitting and then her eyes came back to his, the soft glint of tears in her eyes.

"Rychon. His name is Rychon." she declared, the burn edging its way through him completely as his hand pressed against her stomach to feel a sure motion, and he released the blaze in a blissful utterance.

"Rychon... A good name, a strong name. It's perfect, I love it." he decided instantly, the name of his son as endearing as anything he'd ever heard, and his arms went around his wife to hold her against him.

"The names of our fathers, Rychard and Willmon..." she whispered against him, and his arms grew tighter around her shoulders. Rychon... Lord Rychon Taugere, son of lord Raeghun and lady Claira Taugere, heir to the burning mountain, Mount Ardor and future warden of the Gold Fields of the Corridor... He couldn't refuse the thoughts, and it was left running through his mind for the rest of the night, during the merriment of their feast and even long after they retired to bed.

It was another cool day on the grounds of Mount Ardor when the ladies spent their time in the outside garden, exchanging the confines of the walls for the soft breeze and free air before enjoying their evening meal. While Milla oversaw the final preparations of the hall with the promise to join them as soon as everything has been set, Mandeline saw to Bella on the grass just a few feet away from the fountain where she was at practise taking small steps and the nurse generously rewarded her efforts to further motivate her; and Claira sat on the edge of the fountain amidst the shrubs and rose bushes and arches overlooking the Sunset Sea dressed in a thick powder blue gown with fur linings, and her hair held back with a jewelled pin before falling naturally down her back. Her hands worked on the frilled edge of a silk and woollen blanket, feeling joyful despite her cumbersome condition. Since the sudden racing growth of her son, it became difficult to move around as easily as she used to, and aches, pains, the occasional sleepless and breathlessness along with exhaustion was a regular occurrence; but she found comfort in that her family did everything they could to help her, especially in these last days; and it was nearing its end. In attendance as per his norm, Falgon stood nearby watching the sea gulls fly overhead and screech at each other for stealing scraps of food off the beach far below, wondering how far they went each day.

"Falgon." he heard her gentle voice, and his attention went to her instantly.

"Your grace?" he turned to face her.

"What has Jeody not graced us with in a while?" she asked, her eyes remaining on the blanket in her hands. He thought for a moment, trying to recall the activities of the hall and the passing conversations between the guards regarding their evenings in the feast hall.

"I believe that fish has not been served for a while now, your grace. For a fortnight, it has been poultry and game." He calculated, and she nodded.

"I'll have Jeody prepare seared trout with vegetables and potato for tomorrow evening. It might be a little bit late to have things changed now." She decided, and he nodded. She set the blanket down on her knees and looked up towards the edge of the world and breathed in, feeling the uncomfortable firmness to her hands and feet from the persistent swelling. But apart from that, and a few hard kicks every so often, she felt content and secure. Just a little bit longer... Then she sat back and let her hands rest on her stomach, and she smiled.

"He's moving." She mentioned excitedly, and Falgon moved closer.

"He's a lively child; this is good." He said and she looked up, softly laughing at the tender movements through her.

"Rychon will be strong, and fearless like his father. He will be the lord of Mount Ardor, and he will be everything the world never expected." She said smiling, and then laughed again. She reached out to Falgon, and after a moment of hesitation he surrendered his hand which she took and brought to her stomach as he knelt beside her, for just an instant averting his eyes from hers. His hand rested on her while her hand seared over his, and he could feel yet another sensation of warmth move up his hand, his arm, and his shoulder as it spread throughout his body, and then he felt it. Soft and sure like the breeze as a tiny little foot slid from his palm to his fingertips and then vanished. He brought his other hand to his mouth; and for a time, he couldn't decide what it was he was feeling. Is this what it felt like to cry? Would this be what he would feel had things been different for him long ago? So many things he had lost, and now he found them again here within these walls. He could experience joy, serenity, hope, kindness, pride and friendship, but there were always the followers not far behind. The anxiety that she would be harmed, should he ever fail in his duty. And the unexplainable anger that lay dormant in the distant reaches of his consciousness. But he closed his eyes, vowing once again that until he lay broken and useless he would stand for them, in swirling snow or scorching sun he would remain and hold on to his words to defend them. All of them.

"Falgon?" he opened his eyes and smiled as his hand withdrew from her, and the incomprehensible heat from her touch faded away. Sometimes it was disquieting, but he didn't mind the burn any more. He breathed in deeply, looking at her momentarily troubled blue eyes but then smiled again, bringing ease to her.

"The word 'honoured' could not possibly begin to describe… How wonderful it is that you chose to share something this special with me, your grace. When needed, I will protect him, like he was my very own. Until the day, he has no further use of me." he promised, and she blushed.

"Thank you so much, my Falgon. That is a great comfort to me." she said softly, and he nodded in approval while he stood, just as a lovely figure in blush pink rounded the shrubs on the garden path.

"Everything is prepared. Cook Jeody has even mentioned we might be able to sup a bit earlier this evening." Milla said as she took a seat next to Claira on the edge of the fountain.

"That is fine news. I dare say I might enjoy an earlier evening." she agreed, and continued the work on the blanket while Milla watched her daughter while occasionally admiring the delicate stitching that would hold the frilled edge to the wool and blue silk blanket while they discussed the activities of the hold. Berin had discussed some of the easier techniques he learnt with Raeghun, and it was slowly applied to the guards of the castle's training, and they saw a fair deal of improvement. There was talk of several noble marriages within their domain, including that of lord Violet's daughter. The sun set over the rim of the world when they were summoned to the feast hall awaiting the feast to begin, and the ladies slowly made their way inside with Milla and Mandeline at Claira's sides, and Bella on her mother's hip as Falgon followed. The hall smelt of their cook's delicious creation, and the tables looked beautiful, decorated with silver and bright flowers while the light from the hearths glowed off the banners and garlands. Claira paused at the doorway, again taking in the high table looking over their hall from the dais in front of the Fervid hearth, smiling as her hand softly stroked the curve of her stomach. One day, you will sit there at the head of our house; strong, proud and brave. Respected... Beloved... The vision of a powerful man in their house colours entered her mind, seated at the head of their table alongside his father and mother, and all the rest of their people.

"Claira?" she turned, seeing Milla watching her and laughed.

"I'm sorry, Milla. I was dreaming again." then Milla smiled with her.

"It won't stay a dream for long, my dear friend." she said coming back, and admiring the round curve.

"It's so close... I can't wait." she sniggered softly, and they moved forward towards the table. Unexpectedly, a sudden hard kick to the left crest of her hip forced a painful cry from her chest, and strength from her legs. She heard Milla gasp next to her in fright as she sank, thinking she might fall; but felt a strong hand to her back and her weight mercifully resting something soft under her.

"Bring the maester!" Milla's voice called through the hall, but Claira raised her hand.

"No, don't bother him." she said quickly, and took a deep breath forcing the pain away, and then looked back to see Falgon next to her, kneeling at her side and only then realized that she was sitting on his thigh. In a moment, he offered himself as a chair as they were too far from the tables.

"Are you al right, your grace?" she blushed, secretly admiring his ability for instantaneous improvisations; again severely grateful for him. How he was always there, how he always knew what to do...

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." she assured, taking another deep breath as Milla and Mandeline stood by her side.

"Are you sure?" she asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes. By the stars, he's strong... He's so strong..." she laughed, looking down. Even so small, the Taugere power was obvious in him.

"Can you stand?" Mandeline asked, to a short pause and Claira still noticed the sensation to her legs.

"I think so..." she moved to stand and they carefully helped her up, for a moment she felt unstable while the powerful hands held her steady and her balance returned.

"I do believe that Rychon is feeling a bit tucked up." she joked, and they could share a small laugh as they looked up at the doorway to the Hall of Fire, seeing the lords enter and Raeghun's eyes set on them. Sensing something amiss, they hurried over to them.

"Did something happen? Are you al right?" he asked immediately, raising his hands to lay his right on her back and his right on her stomach.

"Just a kick, my Raeghun. I'm fine." she promised him, easing the concern in his burning eyes.

"It's getting close, you should be careful." he cautioned, and she acknowledged it with a nod.

"I will, I promise." he breathed out relieved, and brought her hand to his lips before leading their family to the high table to settle in for the banquet where they supped on boar stew, fresh bread, fine ale and berry press with a sweetness of cream tarts and grapes while discussing their days, and of course the much anticipated birth of the heir, which everyone looked forward to. Raeghun also mentioned that he had asked the carpenter's guild in Garde's Post to fashion a new baby's bed for them, and was assured that it will be delivered to their hold within a week. Every reference of preparations left them feeling elated, and the anticipation was as alarming as it was exciting. Finally the hall was cleared and their members returned to their chambers, and Claira tended to her bath with Raeghun at her side to help her. Washing had become rather challenging as her movements were restricted by her bearing stomach, but she was thankful for her husband's help while she stood feeling the mild water running down her arms and back as Raeghun spilled water over her skin with the silver pitcher, rinsing away the soap.

"There." he said softly, replacing the pitcher on the pillar's base and she turned, placing her arms around his neck and her abdomen rested against his.

"Thank you. You've been helping me so much." she smiled, and he leaned forward placing his lips against hers in a soft kiss.

"It is my pleasure. I enjoy it." a solid movement made him laugh, and his hands went to her stomach.

"I can't wait to meet him." he whispered softly, and she looked down laying her hands on his.

"Not much longer, my love." she assured, looking up at him again and he met her in a passionate kiss as his right hand came up into her hair, held up by her pin; and his other hand wound around her waist with hers circling his neck and they brought one another as close as it was physically possible. Then he drew back, breathing deeply and trying to stifle the burn through his veins as he lay his head against her brow.

"We should go to bed..." he whispered, and her arms tightened.

"I'm sorry." This was a strain as well; not to harm their son or bring discomfort to her, he had decided not to lay with her for the remainder of her expectancy, and to her great relief despite the barren stretch it caused it did not vex him.

"It's al right, I don't mind. Things will be back to normal soon enough." he said as he drew back, with a tolerant smile and his wonderful blue eyes bright. Her hands ran down his face, her fingers gentle on his brow, his cheeks and his jaw, registering the difference between skin and scar as she stared at him.

"I love you, Raeghun." he kissed her once more.

"I love you, Claira." then he led her from the bath to help her dry and dress before tending to himself, and they made their way up to the lord's chamber to surrender themselves to sleep; waking again at dawn and Raeghun saw to his morning routine before returning to their chamber to greet his wife, and again encouraged her to rest a bit longer, and then made his way down the halls. He wanted to do everything to comfort her, to bring ease to her. Bearing their child took a lot from her, and although she would not admit it, he could see how exhausted she was each day. After sparring in the bailey, they proceeded to the feast hall where the ladies of the hold joined them to break their fast on boiled eggs, flamed sausages, fresh fruit pieces and goat's milk before proceeding to matters of the hold. While in counsel in the Hollow, discussing more additions to the hall, the training of the guards, possible changes in routines and improvements to the nearby village a knock to the door drew their attention, and a pause of silence followed.

"Enter." Raeghun allowed, and a guardsman entered cautiously.

"My pardon for disturbing you, milord. A messenger sent by lord Rames requests an audience." he announced, and the lord glanced at Berin beside him.

"I will meet with him shortly, if he doesn't mind to wait." he decided,

"Thank you, milord." he issued a small bow before leaving them to finish their business, and then Raeghun made his way down to the Hall of Fire to meet with the messenger. Heading down the grand staircase he noticed the individual in the hall, a small weedy man with short brown hair and black eyes set in a thin withered face, the shield carried on his back adorned with the black rams-head on crimson red. He turned as Raeghun approached him, and bowed low to greet him.

"Good day, lord Taugere." his gruff voice sounded soft, barely more than a breath.

"Good day. My apologies for keeping you waiting, what may we do for you?" Raeghun pardoned, but the man smiled.

"It's no trouble, my lord. I bring you a message from lord Rames. He has requested that you please come to Hurlton Fortress to finalize the annual revenue and recompense affairs." he told, and Raeghun felt an uncharacteristic disposition.

"Lord Rames normally attends these matters here." he mentioned, and the messenger glanced away timidly.

"I'm afraid lord Rames has taken a bad fall during a hunt a few days ago, otherwise he would have, I'm sure." the messenger said, and Raeghun thought a moment.

"And his sons?" he asked, and the uneasiness in the messenger seemed to grow slightly.

"Regretfully, they've been sent to barter with White Harbour and Seagard. They cannot be present." he further added, increasing Raeghun's impediment.

"It is three days' ride to Hurlton, we'd be gone for at least a week. My wife is close to childbirth, it would be foolish to leave now." he informed, suppressing the disappointment in his gut.

"I do apologise for the timing, my lord. We might be able to postpone the completion-" then he cursed himself.

"No, then our people will have to wait." he looked at Berin, still in attendance.

"I'm sure it won't take long. The maester has said that it might still be a few more weeks." he forced composure into himself, and then looked back at the messenger.

"We will set out before dawn. You are welcome to the barracks and our tables until then." he invited, and the messenger bowed again.

"Thank you, my lord." he left to find himself a suitable space to rest until the journey back to Hurlton Fortress, and Raeghun sighed.

"The challenges fate throws at us..." he reflected, but heard Berin beside him.

"Don't worry. We'll be back before you know it." he assured, bringing the blue eyes to him with a uneager smile.

"I hope so. But anything could happen now." he breathed, and they returned the way they came heading up to the lady's common room where with a heavy heart Raeghun had to inform Claira of the unexpected summons.

"Raeghun... This is rather disheartening..." she said softly where he knelt at her side, his hand around hers.

"I'm sorry. But we'll be back as soon as we can, I promise." he soothed, and she forced a smile.

"It's al right, there's still time. You should go, take care of the affairs and come home." she said, and he smiled kissing her hand.

"Thank you, my Claira. If the gods are good, we'll be back within a week." he assured, running his hand over her stomach, and her hand rested on his.

"He's been quiet, I haven't felt him at all today." she mentioned softly, and he could instantly sense the uneasiness in her voice.

"I'm sure he's just sleeping. But, why don't you pay a visit to maester Adlyn?" he proposed, and she nodded.

"I will, a little bit later." she agreed, glancing at Milla and Mandeline, little Bella lying on the carpet with her dolls.

"Very well." he stood and lay his lips against her brow, before leaving the common room to tend to the remaining matters, and start preparations to travel to Hurlton Fortress while Claira's attention went back to the crochet in her hands. The blue phoenix was finished, and sown over the left breast of a sparkling blue dress, the long elegant tail feathers stretching over the bodice to the right hip; the only detail she still needed to finish was the silver sleeve and neckline details. This project became her favoured, and she compared it precisely to another comfortable dress, wanting it perfect to wear on the day of her son's presentation. Finally she looked up, seeing that the sun hung low over the ocean and looked at Milla, almost finished with her shawl.

"I'll rejoin you again soon." she said as she lay the dress down next to her and carefully stood.

"Shall we accompany you, my lady?" Milla asked, lowering her hands.

"No, don't trouble yourselves." she smiled and made her way to the door, where her sentinel stood at his post, bowing as she stepped out of the room. He followed, escorting her to the maester's chamber and then departed to await her again at the arch.

"What may I do for you, my lady?" Maester Adlyn asked eagerly, guiding her to the chairs by his hearth.

"Rychon has been quiet, I haven't felt him move at all today." she told, and he stared at her, examining the curve of her abdomen, to his eyes noticeably lower set than with her last visit.

"Do you have any pain, my lady?" he asked, bringing his eyes to hers.

"A little bit of discomfort to my back, but no. No real pain." she informed, and he moved slightly closer.

"I see. If I may, my lady. Shall I examine you?" he asked and she agreed, allowing his hands to run over her, before taking a copper tube from his drawer and placing one end to the curve and his ear to the other, listening in silence for a few moments before looking up with an easy smile.

"The heartbeat is still strong, I do not believe there is any reason for concern. But if there is no change by noon tomorrow, please come see me again. Or for any sudden change, seek me out immediately, my lady. And it may be wise to lay in up to a week earlier than initially planned." he requested, and she nodded in agreement, running her hand down the curve. Thank goodness...

"Thank you, maester. I will." she agreed, and started back the way she came to return to the common room before supper. Moving down the stairs with her hand against the wall, she found the great mass awaiting her yet again at the arch, and he looked up to meet her eyes.

"I hope everything is in order, your grace." he greeted.

"Yes, maester Adlyn has assured that there are no faults." she breathed out relieved, and he extended his hand to help her down the final few steps.

"I assume you will be laying in soon." he mentioned as she took his hand gratefully.

"Not for another fortnight. But I am looking forward to the relief. I feel fat. I must look the part of lord Foch's woolly mammoth." she pointed out, truly feeling so; but he smiled gently.

"No, your grace. You're beautiful. You're glowing." he soothed her, and a soft rose blush settled on her face as he brought her carefully down to the floor of the hallway.

"My dear Falgon, you always treat me so tenderly." she praised, and he attended her back to the common room, sparing a glance that might resemble puzzlement.

"How else would I treat you, your grace? You're a woman, the lady of Mount Ardor; and my queen on the burning mountain. Whatever a woman is given, she will take and make it greater. The world may have been quite a bit different if it was ruled by ladies instead of lords. Something my family was not altogether adverse to." he mentioned, and she recalled that he had referred to them previously, but rather vaguely.

"Oh yes, you've mentioned them before. And you had brothers and sisters?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes. Two younger brothers, and twin baby sisters my father had with his second wife; a woman four years younger than myself." he commented, and she thought of them although not being able to bring them into her vision fully.

"They sound like wonderful people." Claira reflected, wishing she could have had that chance and heard him chuckle beside her.

"They were. But I dare say that my relationship with my father's second wife was not as wonderful." he said softly, and she felt the admiration enveloped by pity.

"I'm sorry, Falgon." once again he held his hand to help her up several narrow steps, his hold gentle but solid to support her.

"It's al right." he eased as they stepped up, and moved down the corridor to the door of the lady's common room where she was waited upon.

"Where is your family now?" she asked, looking up at him and noticed something in his eyes, something resembling a far off, forlorn albeit suppressed abjection.

"Departed, I'm afraid. I'm the only one left." he breathed slowly, and the pity became a deep sting of sorrow. To be alone... with no one in this world... and her hand came to her chest, feeling an intense series of beats to her ribs.

"I... I'm so sorry, Falgon." he turned back to her, his expression soft and kind as they reached the door to her common room.

"The world we live in is a cruel one, your grace..." he paused for a moment, resuming his post by the door and smiling at her.

"But things seem better now, than what it was then." he finished, making the uneasiness fade away, and she returned the small gesture.

"I am pleased, that you found happiness here with us." she told, and he bowed gracefully.

"So am I, your grace." he agreed.

"Ser Falgon! Lord Taugere demands your attendance in the Hollow!" they looked down the corridor to see a guardsman standing at the corner, and his attention returned to Claira.

"With your leave, your grace. I have been summoned." she nodded, approving his departure before returning to her favoured chair inside the room where she resumed work on her dress and he made his way down the long halls to the Hollow, finding the lord and his sentinels finalizing the morning departure, and then Raeghun's bright blue eyes came up to meet his as he stepped inside and bowed formally.

"You summoned me, sire?" he asked, awaiting his bidding.

"Yes. I must leave for Hurlton Fortress by Ramshorn before sunrise on the morn to meet with lord Rames. I take a party of guards with me." Raeghun explained as the tall sentinel rose up.

"Will I be accompanying you, sire?" he asked, and Raeghun shook his head.

"No. You will remain here, to watch over the lady as is your position. I have also given orders that the gate is sealed until our return, save for the acceptance of produce and whatever necessities are required here. Gavin will be in her attendance tomorrow, but I'd like you to see to the following days until our return." he instructed, and Falgon nodded, acknowledging his command.

"As you bid, sire." Raeghun looked over the other faces inside the Hollow, and then took a deep breath.

"Leave us!" he commanded, and the sentinels started to exit the Hollow. Raeghun glanced at Berin, lingering behind and nodded before he too, took his leave and closed the door behind him, leaving the lord of the burning mountain, and the trusted sentinel of the lady inside the chamber. Falgon watched as Raeghun rounded the table, and finally leaned against its edge in front of him, for a moment glancing at the stone floor before bringing his bright eyes to meet his.

"The first time you set yourself between my wife and danger, I promised that I will not forget your service to me. Since then you have provided lady Claira and others under my protection with refuge as well as comfort on many occasions." he started, and a short pause followed as he found his words.

"Yet, now I find myself asking more of you. You not only saved her life and those of others, but also mine although it was not your place, along with my sanity. Allow me to voice to you something, that I've not done to anyone, Falgon. My wife is everything to me, and now she carries my son inside her. I will give up everything if it meant that I may keep them safe. You understand the severity of what I'm asking of you? You are the strongest, and the most reliable of the lady's sentinels. There is no one in this castle to whom I would more trust my wife's safety." he told, and Falgon stared back at him in silence for a moment before casting his eyes to the floor discreetly. There was no need to voice it, to anyone with sight it was as clear as the sun setting on the horizon each day; something so rare, so pure... but he chose to entrust this to him.

"You honour me, sire." he praised softly, and Raeghun moved forward with a pleased smile.

"I must thank you. She trusts you, more than any other. Stay at her side always when I cannot be, keep her safe for me. I'll return as soon as I can." he assigned, and Falgon bowed in acceptance of his order.

"To the very best of my abilities, I will not fail you, sire." he promised, and then felt a warm, powerful hand to his shoulder before looking up at the burning eyes.

"Good. You may return to your routines." he allowed, and the sentinel courteously took his leave from the Hollow to revert to his post for the rest of the day, listening in silence to the soft voices discussing numerous topics from inside the chamber, to be collected by a serving girl from the kitchen much later to enjoy their evening meal of the promised seared trout, buttered potatoes, creamy spinach and sweetened carrots, along with ale and apple press; and stewed fruit with warm custard in the company of family, friends and the gentle melody of a flute before retiring to bed to take in the calm of night.

Raeghun woke to a black dawn, tearing himself away from the softness of the bed to start an early day while Claira still lay sleeping. Gathering up his clothing, he headed down to the bath chamber to cleanse and dress before returning and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. He gently ran a hand up her leg and back before bringing his touch down over her stomach, and leaned down to gently kiss her cheek.

"I love you, my Claira. I'll be back soon." he whispered, and as he drew back she looked up at him, her blue eyes still cloudy from sleep.

"I love you. Stay safe." she returned, then he stood and leaned down once more placing his lips against her brow.

"We will. Go back to sleep, its still dark." he urged, and she lowered her face to the pillows again, slipping back into slumber as he left the chamber, heading down to the Hall of Fire to find his company ready. Milla stood with Berin at the doorway to the feast hall, where he greeted them.

"Good morning, has everything been prepared?" he asked, looking at Berin.

"Of course, my lord. We may leave as soon as our company has broken their fast." he informed, and Raeghun nodded.

"Good to hear. How is little Bella?" he asked, turning his attention to Milla.

"Still asleep, I believe she enjoys having her own chamber. Mandeline is watching over her." she confirmed, it has been several weeks that she did not share the comforts of her parents' bedchamber any longer, with little trouble.

"Fine news. As long as everyone is comfortable..." Raeghun breathed with a smile, and then motioned to the inside of the hall where the company was assembling.

"Come, let us start this sojourn of ours." he urged, and they joined the handful of attendants to enjoy a very early meal of fresh fruit, grains, thick sweet cream and tea before leaving for the outer bailey, where the stable master had the horses saddled and waiting along with the cart harnessed to a brown gelding, and Berin spared a moment with his wife on the steps of the castle as his hand brushed tenderly against her cheek to her jaw, and he placed his lips against her brow.

"I will return to you." he gave her his promise, and she smiled.

"You always do." she whispered easily, this seemed such a small thing compared to the Rebellion and there was no fear tearing away at her heart. Then he turned and found his horse, mounting and taking his place beside Raeghun on his massive black warhorse. Moments later, with the Hurlton messenger to Raeghun's left side, torches lighting their way and the deep purple of morning on the rim of the world they moved through the gatehouse and across the bridge while Milla watched, issuing her silent prayer over them all for safety and swiftness before returning into the hold and back to their chambers for the remaining peace of the halls before sunrise. With orange light above the fields she rose again, heading to her daughter's chamber to tend to her morning feeding and then with her in her nurse's care, she went to the kitchens to discuss the morning meal of sweetened porridge, bacon rinds, broiled eggs, fresh bread and orange press for those left at the castle, and having the feast hall prepared, giving instructions for the scullions to clean the floor and tables, the handmaidens to supply fresh flowers, and the serving girls to lay the hall with feast ware while the young pages stocked the hearths with firewood. And then with all prepared, she recalled that she hadn't seen Claira come down yet, and decided to head up to the lord's wing. Passing through the many hallways, there were many others busy moving up and down to clean and stock the wings, and she found Gavin at the great doors shielding the lord's wing.

"Good morning, my lady." he issued her a small bow as she approached.

"Good morning, Gavin." she greeted, pausing with her hand against the door.

"You are in attendance today?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes, my lady. Just for today, as instructed." he confirmed,

"Very well. We'll be down in just a while." she assured, opening the door and gracefully stepping through greeting two handmaidens busy with chores of the lord's hall, and they acknowledged her courteously.

"Has lady Claira risen yet?" she asked, and the girls glanced at one another.

"We're not sure, milady. We haven't been up to the lord's chamber yet, afraid we might wake her if she hasn't." one replied shyly, and Milla sighed.

"I see. Continue your duties, I will call you if needed." she allowed, and headed up the winding steps into the tower holding the many bed chambers of the noble family to the highest room where she softly entered, and smiled at her friend sitting on the edge of their wide bed.

"Good morning, Claira." she greeted stepping through and closing the door behind her, and the lady looked up with the same friendly gesture, but for the tiredness in her eyes.

"Good morning, Milla." she breathed, moving slowly back in an awkward motion as Milla moved towards her.

"Are you al right?" Claira's hand went to her back, and she sniggered.

"Yes, just a little bit sore. I don't I've had a good night's sleep in weeks." she joked as Milla sat down beside her.

"You don't need to come down today. I'll have you tended to here." Milla suggested, but Claira took a deep breath before bringing her eyes to her friend's.

"No, I should keep moving. Maester Adlyn said the effort is good, and will have been a great help for when my time comes. Besides, it may ease the ache." she insisted, having to note that the discomfort had worsened during the night, and then felt Milla gently taking her hand.

"Al right. Whenever you're ready, we can get you dressed." she agreed, then stood and went to the wardrobe, choosing a fleecy wide sleeved peach dress, with a gold ribbon waistband, adorned with a soft full length lace shawl; and her flat peach slippers, and helped her dress before brushing out her hair and braiding it, leaving it hanging down the length of her back, and hanging a gold necklace around her neck. Then they left the lord's chamber, carefully down the steps and further to the southern hall to join their people for their morning meal; and then tending to some small matters of the hold with Metron, who was eager to teach their lady, and generously praised her decisions. By noon, the ladies returned to her common room to resume their work, trying to pass the remainder of the day, but Claira struggled to find a comfortable position; if anything the unease had increased instead, and she still hadn't felt her son moving. She made the decision to return to maester Adlyn for any aid he could give, laying the dress she was almost done with down on the armrest of the chair, and looking at Milla holding Bella on her lap.

"Milla, I'm going to see the maester. I should be back shortly." she informed, and carefully stood.

"Shall I come with you?" she asked, looking up at her.

"You may. We won't be gone long." she agreed, and Mandeline stood to take Bella as they moved to the door, from where Gavin dutifully followed down the hall. Rounding the last bend towards the maester's tower, Claira suddenly stopped and Milla turned back, feeling a frigid sting spread across her face and down her neck. Her friend was mist white, and her eyes clear but vacant as she stared at the space in front of her.

"Claira?" she examined her, noting her hands against the base of her stomach.

"Claira?" she called to her again, and then the eyes came to her; and something took shape behind the frost blue, something Milla could only recognise as fright.

"Milla... Milla, find maester Adlyn for me." she suddenly pleaded, the words desperate but bereft of sound and Milla glanced down, suddenly bringing her hand to her mouth the instant she registered the pool under Claira's feet.

"I will." then she looked at Gavin, seeming equally stunned.

"Gavin, see lady Claira safely to the lord's wing. I will return there myself as soon as I can." she instructed, and he nodded moving forward and holding his arm out beside her for aid. Her hand went around his elbow, the trembling fingers firm around his muscles and he cautiously guided her forward as Milla turned and rushed to the maester's tower, hurrying up the steps as quickly as possible calling for him, and he suddenly appeared on the stairway eyes wide and startled.

"Lady Milla?" her hands went to his arms as she reached him.

"Come quickly, it's lady Claira." he nodded, and followed her down the stairs to the wing.

"Where is lord Raeghun?" he asked as they hurried down the halls, and she stopped turning to him.

"He rode to Ramshorn to meet with lord Rames. They left shortly before sunrise." she told, and he took her arm guiding her forward.

"He must return here. Send someone to find him." he instructed, entering into the wing as they passed the great doors while she passed down through the halls, wondering whom would be fastest. Wymon... Renko... Then she passed through the doors into the bailey and relief washed over her the moment she noticed the man crossing the bailey on his way back to the hold, and she rushed down the steps.

"Falgon!" he looked up, instantly drawn by the tone of her voice.

"Lady Milla?" she stopped in front of him, close to breathless.

"It's the lady… she's in labour… Lord Taugere…" she started, and he turned to a couple of stable boys nearby.

"Bring out my horse!" he called, and one of them vanished into the stables as he returned his attention to Milla, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Stay with her, I'll find him." he assured, and then turned around heading to the structure that housed the steeds as she watched him. How easily he conformed. With a sense of ease she turned and rushed back into the hold as he looked up at the guards of the sentry towers.

"Open the gate!" he called, followed by the dull whine of steel chains straining against the weight of thick iron bars, hauling the heavy double gate from the earth. He approached the massive horse being led from the stables, with a swift movement mounting Galeo bareback as another boy came rushing over with the saddle.

"Your saddle, ser..." the boy breathed as Falgon took up the reins in his hands.

"Leave it, there's no time." he put his heels into the ribs, spurring Galeo forward into a canter through the gate, passing to a full gallop over the bridge and down the pathway east, following the trail of the party that left early this morning, not passing a thought for the faces staring as he raced by, but hoping that he may find them soon... Heavy hooves shook the earth, chipping away at cobblestones and tearing at the earth as he went, and the sun pulled mercilessly towards the earth; and with it glaring above the horizon he crossed a hill, spying a small party on the road on an easy trot heading east. His heels dug deeper into the sides of his horse, forcing the stallion forward and closing the distance between them. Some of the trailing guards turned, hearing the thundering of heavy falls on the earth, the curiosity of their faces melting into surprise as he ignored them, heading past to the front of the group, and bringing the party to a stunned halt; Raeghun's burning eyes meeting his in utter confusion.

"Sire, you are needed back at Mount Ardor. It is time." Falgon told, and the confusion altered to shock. No... No, it's too soon... Much too soon... he moved his horse forward, turning it around and looked at Berin.

"Lord Berin, I name you my substitute. Give lord Rames my regards, and apologies that I did not attend personally; but given the circumstances I believe he will understand. See that his requirements are adequately met." he instructed, and Berin nodded.

"I will keep to your rulings as best I can, my lord." he promised, and proceeded to lead the party further down the road while Raeghun and Falgon made their way back to the burning mountain as quickly as their horses could ride, only arriving back at the hold late into the night with naught to go by but lights of passing farmsteads and what little moonlight was granted; finally passing under the gate and giving their horses to the care of the stable boys. While Raeghun hurried inside to the urges of those meeting him on the way, Falgon remained another small moment running his hand down the neck of his horse as the poor creature breathed hard.

"I'm sorry, my friend. But thank you, you've done well." he whispered, hearing Galeo snort. He brought his attention to a passing stable boy.

"Please see that my steed is properly walked down, and watered. Also, I'll beg for an extra helping of oats for his service today." he asked, and the boy smiled.

"Of course, ser." he agreed, taking the reins and leading the stallion away before Falgon made his way into the hold.

Raeghun rushed up the steps to the lord's chamber, discarding his cloak and doublet as he went without much thought and then passed through the door. The room was dark, only two candles burning in the space, Milla and three nurses in attendance along with maester Adlyn who sat on a small seat at the foot of the bed where his wife lay bare, her skin glowing in the soft light, and the maester held his fingers to her ankle, his crystal pendulum swinging above the leather scroll. Nearing the chamber he could hear her, and it tortured him. The maester looked up for a moment, nodding with a smile as he registered the lord, and he moved forward to take his place beside her.

"Claira." she reached for him, her breaths short and strained.

"Raeghun… Raeghun, I'm scared…" she pleaded desperately, and he took her hand feeling the tremor in her fingers as he lowered to his knees next to her and kissed the back of her hand as his free hand went to her face.

"It's al right, I'm here. I won't leave you." he promised, and the maester glanced back.

"Do not fear, my lady. You are doing very well. Just breathe." he advised soothingly, and her hand suddenly tightened in Raeghun's as she tried to suppress an agonized cry. The pain was excruciating, reaching through her like flaming hands and tearing away at her worn senses. But she forced deep breaths into her body as her husband tried to comfort her. The waves of hurt came and stayed more frequently, only granting but a few moments of relief between the sensations of her body being torn apart. Through the fogs that merged reality and agony, she heard the door of the chamber open and close, opening her eyes from an instant of disorientation.

"Raeghun..." his hands were still on her.

"I'm here. We've sent Milla down, she seems exhausted." he said softly, the tone of his voice soft and soothing.

"She's been a great help..." she breathed in a moment of relief. Her court maiden had stayed with her, offering what she could by walking with her around the room, and rubbing her back and legs. Another surge of pain brought a barely suppressed cry from her chest as her muscles tensed and constricted.

"Almost there, my lady. Just a little bit longer." the maester said, yet again. He'd been saying this for what seemed like hours, and the night dragged on through the sundering agony, when eventually all that was left was the crushing pressure. Adlyn stood from his seat, and took his position bringing his hands to her thighs.

"It is time. Now I need you to listen to me, Claira." he brought his eyes up.

"Three deep breaths, and push." he instructed, and through the torture she tried to obey by forcing air into herself and then strained hard in an effort to release her child from her body with a painful scream that echoed off the walls and travelled down the halls as her hand crushed into Raeghun's. But the pressure remained.

"Breathe, Claira." Raeghun reminded softly, and air reached her lungs again.

"Good, my lady. Try again, when you're ready." the maester instructed, and she did. Three breaths, and another scream emitted down the stones.

"Good. And again." Adlyn encouraged, and she breathed again. Three times, four times, five times, eventually she lost count, but the hurt endured. It did not seem to lessen at all, and just for an instant she wished for death before hearing the maester's voice again.

"Very good, Claira. Once more." she heard him through the throes, and forced air into her chest before straining intensely once more, a final scream tearing its way through the castle. A sharp breath stabbed into her lungs as the pain vanished, complete relief falling over her and a shrouded conciousness obscured her thoughts. She could hear voices, different voices muffled in the space; wordless but urgent over a dreadful silence, and her thoughts went to the baby. Rychon... Rychon... The voices became harder, and the hazed hysteria made her force herself up to stand. Rychon... Give him to me... Please give my son to me... A strong hand held her shoulder, preventing her from further movement and finally she heard the maester again, calling out a name... Her son's name and her heart stopped. No... No... Oh, please... No... She shattered, her heart and soul splintering into a thousand sharp edges, new tears flooded her eyes, and the hard, desperate pressure of her husband's hand around hers. No, please... No... Then a stutter, a gasp, a cough and a wail. Beautiful, blissful bawling of a tiny voice, and the shards melted to reform anew as her own voice sounded in the room in elated cries while a small whimpering bundle was lay in her arms and brought to her breast. Little lord Rychon Taugere was gorgeous, with soft black hair, his warm body wrapped tightly in a fine ivory blanket, and his cheek against her breast as his cries faded to little more than soft whining. But she couldn't stop weeping, her arms around her son, and her husband's around them both, his face pressed softly against hers and the spell of the moment held her in blessed enchantment as the world faded away. Raeghun drew back as a nurse came to take Rychon for a thorough cleansing, and he looked at her, limp as a doll in his arms.

"Claira." there was no response, and sudden panic bit at his chest as he looked at the maester standing behind him.

"Maester." he saw him smile.

"She is exhausted, my lord. It has been a difficult day and night, but she'll be fine." he assured, and the uneasiness faded away as he glanced out the window, only now realizing the lightening sky. He breathed deeply as the sensation left him, and tried to drown a laugh.

"Thank you, maester. Thank you so much, for everything." he said, and felt the maester's hand softly on his shoulder.

"It is always my great pleasure, lord Raeghun. Is there anything you need?" he asked, and Raeghun paused a moment.

"No. No, I don't believe so." he returned, and the hand on his shoulder gave him a small pat.

"I will be back to tend to lady Claira shortly." he promised, and then made his way to the door giving his orders to the nurses who would remain in attendance constantly for the lady and her child's needs on their duties until told otherwise. Raeghun stood, slowly heading to the door, and assured the nurse that he will return shortly before heading down the stairway and through the hall, passing through the door to find an assembly of worried faces waiting in the hall, and Milla approached.

"How are they?" she asked, the urgency in her voice little less than a veil and he smiled through the weariness.

"They're fine. They're both fine. My wife is resting now..." for an instant, his mind went back to the bitter moments that the maester struggled with his son, frantically coercing the tiny limp body to breathe... and then the wonderful instant he started to cry. He looked up at those waiting in the hallway.

"Thank you all, for your commitment and bearing this with us. You may return to your apartments. I will bring you more news when all is rested." he informed, watching as the throng slowly departed, and then looked back at Milla.

"And thank you, Milla. For your involvement." she smiled under a soft blush.

"You are most welcome, lord Raeghun." she curtsied, and then headed back down the corridor with Falgon by her side while he went back into the wing, and to their chamber. Stepping through the door, the nurse approached him with Rychon, clean and calm as she gently handed him to his father who sat down on a chair by the hearth, gently rocking with his son in his arms while the nurses finished their task of carefully washing Claira and changed the sheets, laying a thick fleece beneath her for comfort and to capture what would discharge for the following few days, with the intention of having it replaced every few hours. He watched as the baby slept against him, loving him more than anything along with his wife. They meant more than anything this world could ever offer, and he found himself praying that he would always have the strength to protect them. He leaned down, placing his lips to the delicate skin as his arms tenderly tightened.

"My son..." he smiled, then leaned back still lightly rocking as he settled between sleep and conciousness, allowing his ravaged senses a few moments of peace and only bringing his awareness back to a soft fidgeting in his arms before hearing the soft whimpers. A nurse who remained behind came to him, raising her arms.

"With your permission my lord, I will teach lady Claira how to feed him." she offered, and he nodded gently releasing Rychon to her hands and she went to the bed to wake Claira. He remained in the chair, watching as his wife gingerly raised herself and the nurse positioned several pillows behind her back and to her sides for support before siting down on the edge of the bed, bringing Rychon to her. He watched as she brought their son's face to her breast, and the nurse taught her how to position him, how to guide him to suckle from her, how to hold him, and all that accompanied it in loving wonder. Then she glanced at him smiling, and he stood to make his way to the bed, joining her on the soft mattress and running his fingers over the soft black hair and the nurse smiled.

"You are doing very well, my lady." she praised, and then glanced at Raeghun.

"If you wish, we may ask the maids to prepare a different chamber for you, my lord?" she proposed, and he scoffed.

"I will share my wife's bed, as I always have." he assured, and the nurse smiled. Then a soft knock drew their attention.

"Enter." Raeghun allowed, supposing it may be the nurses; but then Milla's face appeared as the door opened.

"I apologise for disturbing you, my lord and lady." she said softly, carefully stepping inside but Claira looked up at her smiling.

"You're not, Milla. Come here." she invited, and she moved forward as the nurse stood.

"We'll be back in just a moment to clean the sheets, my lady." she assured, and then left the chamber as Milla sat on the seat next to the bed, taking in the vision in front of her. Not even the most distinguished work of art rivalled this in any way, the lord, his lady and their son.

"How are you feeling, my dear friend?" she asked, hearing Claira breathe deeply.

"I'm still painful, and tired. But I'm fine." she assured, bringing her eyes down to the baby at her breast.

"I'm just so happy he's finally here..." she laughed softly, and Milla examined him, her own smile brightening as her hand touched her mouth.

"He is so beautiful, my lady." her eyes went up to Raeghun.

"He looks just like his father." she praised, and they shared a happy laugh. Another gentle knock at the door took their attention.

"Enter." Raeghun allowed again, and maester Adlyn stepped through.

"Good morning, my lady." he greeted, and closed the door behind him before coming over to examine both Claira and Rychon; concluding that she was well apart from the rawness and fatigue, and was already improving, but advised that she continued to rest as much as she could; pent to bed for another two weeks at least. Further, despite coming into this world early, the heir was sound at seven and a half pounds, and nearly twenty three inches from crown to heel; and with a little extra care should be perfectly fine. To her bedside table he supplied a selection of mixtures to alleviate the discomfort, supplement her worn body and aid her maternal blossoming. Soon after the nurses returned to tend to their needs, and Rychon was again given to the care of his father while the nurses again proceeded to wash the lady and exchange the fleece for a new one while he escorted their maester and court maiden back to the lord's hall.

"Milla, would you care to tend to the kitchens and the halls for a while?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Of course, my lord. As long as it is needed. I'll have servings brought to lady Claira here until she is fit again." she accepted, and he thanked her gratefully before turning his attention to Adlyn.

"And you will tend to my wife every day, here?" the maester smiled.

"Certainly, my lord. The nurses will be in constant service, but if there is dire need for me, all you need is to summon me." he assured, and Raeghun looked down with a relieved sigh, at the blessing in his arms.

"Maester Adlyn..." he stopped and turned back to the lord before exiting the wing.

"Send ravens to all the reaches..." he instructed, bringing his eyes back to the smiling face in front of him, and he knew what would follow.

"Yes, my lord. May I suggest two months for the presentation?" he asked excitedly, and Raeghun nodded.

"Thank you, maester. Two months should be decent." he approved, and watched him leave the wing to perform his request. Milla remained behind a moment longer.

"Is there anything else you need?" she asked, and he smiled softly.

"Not at the moment, Milla. You've done so much, thank you. You may go back to your day. Berin should return soon, and to give all in our hold equal opportunity to meet my son, he will remain here for the time being. But you are welcome for visits when you have the time." he said, and she nodded in agreement. After thanking him, she made her way down the halls while he returned to the chamber to join Claira again for a while before sharing this morning's meal in her company, and then tending to matters of the hold, and took a moment in the garden just rounding the trail and watching hundreds of black wings dotting the sky before returning into the castle back up to the lord's wing, finding Falgon on his way up the eastern stairway with a selection of books in his left hand.

"Falgon." the great man turned instantly, issuing a formal bow.

"How will I serve, sire?" he asked, and a moment of pause followed. He had left her side again, but he was infinitely grateful for it.

"I haven't spoken with you since you came for me. And I need to thank you, for bringing me back." he said, in earnest and saw the tall mass smile gently.

"She needed you, sire. I would have ridden to the rim of the world, to bring you back to her." he confessed, making Raeghun stare at him. Admiring him. Never had any man shown his level of devotion to anyone in the history of men...

"I am grateful for you. You have been an extraordinary gift to my house, enough for the belief that you were sent to us by the gods." he praised, and heard a soft flout from the sentinel.

"Of the gods I don't know, sire. But I may agree, that fate has determined this is where I belong." he complied, and turned to join the lord on his way back to their private wing.

"If I may ask, sire. How is her grace, and the little one?" he finally asked, truly involved and Raeghun laughed.

"You may, ser. They are both doing fine, and will remain in the lord's wing for several weeks while my wife heals, and our son grows stronger." he told, looking at the man next to him almost feeling the elation emit off him in small waves.

"That is wonderful news." he breathed softly.

"You will have the days to yourself, until otherwise notified. So, spend your days peacefully. Eat, drink, sleep in, read your books, train, visit the village, take your Galeo on long rides..." he started to tell, and then suddenly stopped looking back at the man staring at him completely stunned.

"Sire... My place is here..." he insisted softly, and then Raeghun approached him.

"It was only suggestions, my friend. But you deserve it." he smiled, and then Falgon slowly nodded.

"Thank you, sire. I will remain close." he assured, resuming the way up the incline where he parted from the lord and further headed to the maester's tower.

The weeks lingered by, each day following much the same routine as the last. As promised, Raeghun continued to share the lord's chamber with his wife and son, not minding the slightly increased activity of their private wing; and found that his sustained close presence brought comfort and peace to them; the best part of these days in particular were the mornings when he lay on the bed closely beside Claira with his left arm around her waist and his other resting on her thigh, while watching Rychon against her chest, confessing to himself that these moments were entrancing. After the feedings he would hold him, rocking him soothingly in his strong arms while the nurses cleaned the wing, helped Claira to wash and replace the fleece and sheets; and only after sharing their morning meal and all was comfortable he would tend to the matters of his hold. Not too long after, Berin returned from Hurlton, with the assurance that all matters were settled and approved for the following year, with fine acceptance. And having received the raven, lord Rames assured that they will attend the presentation of the heir. Claira healed and slowly started moving about the lord's wing while her body gradually returned to its former appearance, in the time that Rychon grew stronger, and the nurses kept to their duties to keep the lord's chamber and its inhabitants fresh and calm. And despite the second bedchamber having been prepared for Rychon with the arrival of the crib from the carpenters, a splendid creation of white wood and ebony with ivory and flame orange curtains hanging from a gently curved canopy, held by posts decorated in gold leaf along with the sidings, he continued to share the lord's bed for a number of weeks, safely in his mother's arms. Although Raeghun had thought it was reason for concern, it was not an irritation; but his wife was left worried that Rychon was not feeding well, inclined to fall asleep at her breast rather than nurse and it kept her from peaceful sleep and she woke the instant he stirred beside her. It was mid-morning when he ascended the winding steps to the lord's chamber after receiving a young woman from the village, with the offering to serve as a wet nurse if they desired. The girl was appealing, soft features with dark gold hair and bright grey eyes, and he felt hopeful for the assistance. He stepped through the doors, finding the nurse in attendance next to Claira as she continued to try and encourage her.

"Do not worry, my lady. He will suckle if he is hungry." she soothed, and Claira looked up at her, the red of her face hiding tears.

"He falls asleep because he is happy, that's all. You are doing well." she added, and Claira slowly nodded as Raeghun came to her side.

"I'd sleep my entire life away, if that is where I could rest my head." he tenderly teased, and to his relief it brought a smile to her face. Then he turned to the nurse.

"Would you mind giving me a moment with my wife?" she curtsied and left the room, and he sat down next to her.

"How are you feeling today, my sweet?" he asked, running his hand down her back.

"It's been getting better, but I can't help feeling hopeless." she said softly, and he looked down to the sleeping baby against her.

"It will be al right." he soothed, and then brought his eyes back to hers.

"We've received a girl from the village this morning. She has offered her service to you, as Rychon's wet nurse." her eyes grew suddenly frigid in their stare.

"No. No wet nurses. I can tend to him myself." she insisted.

"Claira, it's just to help you. We can restrict it to the nights." he suggested, and she looked down at Rychon.

"No." he stared at her, the hardness fading away into despair.

"He is my son. I've waited so long for this, Raeghun... Please, please don't take it away from me..." she begged, and his arm went around her shoulders to press her against him. He could understand, denying her anything would be cruel.

"He may have a nurse to tend to him, and to aid me. But if he needs to feed, I will do it myself." she persisted again, and he nodded. He imagined it to be just a passing state, but it was evidently clear that his wife was quite possessive of their child, and understandably so. You've become stubborn, my Claira...

"As you wish. Is there anyone in particular you want?" he asked, and her eyes came back to him with a questioning, but he smiled.

"Milla requested consent for her watcher from Citrine Arch to come to her side, so why not you? Anyone you trust, anyone you want." he allowed, and she smiled gratefully.

"Panora. She was my nurse at Pale Haven." she decided, and he nodded in agreement.

"I will have word sent to your father." he assured, and then stood holding his hands.

"Rest for a while, I will take him." he suggested, and she released their sleeping son to his father's hands before lowering herself onto the sheets.

"Don't go far with him, please." she asked, and he sighed.

"We won't leave the wing, I promise." he eased, and she closed her eyes to claim a few moments of peace; and Raeghun decided to head down to their private garden with its beautiful fountain, just for a little while. He sat down on the edge of the basin, gently rocking as his fingers stroked softly over the tiny black hairs.

"You are such a wonder, little one." he whispered, looking up at the face of the fountain staring back at him. I wish you were here, father... Then he looked down at the baby again, his heart seizing in the moment. The little eyes watched him, calm and content in the frost blue of his mother; and Raeghun laughed bringing him up to his face, laying his mouth to the soft cheek... More time passed, and the presentation grew imminently closer. In the days leading up to the grand event, the burning mountain was swarmed with a horde of guests from every corner of the continent from as far north as Last Hearth to the southern reaches of Sunspear, the masses of attending guardsmen, servants and freeriders having to erect pavilions and camp sites stretching as far as a mile from the walls of the castle while family, close friends and honoured guests were accommodated inside the sunstone walls. The atmosphere was vigorous with excitement, some attendants raising temporary arenas and runways to host the resemblance of a tourney for entertainment, which Raeghun allowed in spite of his known irritation with tournaments, with the condition that any rewards that were offered to their champions, will not be provided by Mount Ardor's treasury but came from their own resources; and reluctantly agreed to. Nurse Panora, a full-figured elderly woman in her mid fifties with deep green eyes, light grey hair, a soft withered face and a uniquely motherly air about her, whom had arrived with the Tormonts of Pale Haven days before the flood of visitors, took to her new position as Rychon's personal caregiver eagerly and shared all she could with the lady; and things seemed to improve to the point when Claira finally allowed Rychon the delight of his own room with the terms that Panora remain with him during the nights, and strict orders to bring the baby to her immediately when he woke or if she ever had any concerns, albeit seven times each night. Accounting that for the time being, her duties will take place at night, Panora was given the days to herself for rest; and generally spent with the rest of the hold from late noon. The evening before the presentation, Claira stood in front of the hearth in the lord's hall with Rychon against her shoulder, settled against a fleecy towel with her hand softly petting his back, and Panora at her side, giving her small advices. Such as using cornflour for any rashes, and having lavender in his room for calmness. He had finally started feeding well, leaving her breasts sensitive, but she felt happy for it.

"Motherhood suits you well, my lady. You are trying so hard, and I am very proud of you. It was cruel of the gods to make you wait this long." Panora said softly, and Claira smiled softly.

"Oh, they had their reasons, I'm sure. Who are we, to question them?" she breathed, and then lay her lips to Rychon's brow. All the waiting didn't matter now, the years of wanting and loneliness were nothing when she had her son in her arms. Panora ran a finger gently down his back, bringing a tiny motion from the small sleeping body, smiling at the response. She did small things like these from time to time, his back, his little feet and tiny hands; ensuring that his perception was good and that he reacted to touch.

"If you believe so, my lady." she said softly, and then a knock at the door made Claira glance back for an instant before bringing her attention back to Panora.

"You may take him to his room. I will be up in a moment." she assured, and Panora carefully took him in her hands and headed up the winding stairway before the knock sounded again.

"Enter." she allowed, and the door opened for her mother to enter. She smiled brightly as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her again.

"You've been shy, we haven't seen you very often." she mentioned coming over to her.

"I'm sorry, I've been advised to keep to the wing for now." she pardoned as they shared a tender embrace, keeping to herself that this was not entirely the only reason for her persistent seclusion from the rest of the hold.

"Where is Rychon?" Alyssa asked, drawing back from her.

"He's asleep. Panora took him up to his room a little while ago." she told, and her mother's warm eyes went to the arch leading up to the bed chambers.

"We've been here for more than a week, and I still haven't met my grandson." she breathed sadly, and Claira glanced down.

"You will meet him tomorrow, mother. And you may be the first to hold him, I promise." she soothed, bringing a slight smile from her mother.

"I look forward to it." then she took Claira's hand in hers, feeling the cold of her fingers again.

"It's late, we'll see you tomorrow morning. Good night." she said, and then left the wing again. Claira remained in the hall staring at the door, feeling a strange disgust for her own unusual behaviour. She loved her family dearly, and they would never do anything to bring her heartache or misfortune, but she could not rid herself of the obsessive desire to shelter her son from others. To keep him here where no one would find him... To keep him safe... No one in the hold had seen him yet, save for their maester, Milla, Panora and the nurses temporarily presiding over the lord's wing. Not even Berin. Then the door opened again, startling her from the thoughts, but she eased seeing Raeghun step through. He smiled as he closed the door behind him, and then made his way to her.

"I hope you are ready for tomorrow. Everyone has been asking for you." he told, and she glanced away.

"I'm sorry, that you're left with their incessant notions." she said, secretly hoping the day would come and go, to be left with peace.

"It's not easy to answer all their questions, but the spiced wine distracts them after they've had enough." he gently took her face between his palms, and leaned down to kiss her.

"My mother came to see me earlier." she mentioned, and he drew slightly back as his hands lowered from her cheeks, resting on her shoulders.

"Did she meet our son?" he asked, and she sighed looking down at the floor.

"No. I sent Panora up with him." she confessed, and he stared at her in a moment of silence. She knew what he would think... what he would say...

"Claira, you can't hide him away forever." he watched her, and a burn stung at her eyes. She knew she couldn't hold him here, but the desire to do so clawed at her like a furious beast.

"I know. I just..." she looked at Raeghun, forcing a smile.

"I thought it might be wise, to wait until tomorrow. I promised her she could be the first to hold him." she said, and his face drew in an amused smile.

"You're a terrible liar, my dear wife." he teased as his arms slid over her shoulders to circle her back, and her arms went around his waist.

"And you can tell when I'm lying?" he laughed softly, bringing his lips to her brow.

"Of course I can." he breathed in deeply, his arms tightening gently.

"Everything will be al right." he soothed, and her face buried into his shoulder as they held each other in the light of the hearth-fire. She wanted it to be true, to cast away every fear that clung to her. Wanted to let go of her bothersome self, and enjoy the introduction of her son to the world so all would know who he was, and whom he would become.

"You're right. I shouldn't be this way." she confessed as she pulled back from him, and looked up at his burning blue eyes, finding warmth and comfort even there.

"Things start early tomorrow, we should try to get some rest." she urged, and together they headed up the stairway to their chamber, and they spared a moment in the second bed chamber with Rychon, Claira again insisting that Panora bring him to her whenever he woke, which she continued to believe must be more than twice before sunrise at least. The nurse agreed with a knowing smile, eventually having to insist that the lady tend to her own rest, with the assurance that should there be any concerns she will be notified immediately; and they left the chamber finally finding the safety of their bed.

The sun rose in heated crimson the morning Claira stood in the lord's chamber, dressed in the blue silk dress with the phoenix gliding over the bodice, and a sapphire and pearl string around her neck. Raeghun had already departed the lord's wing to meet with their guests, and she was now waiting as Milla stood behind her also dressed in an elegant purple court dress, brushing out the long locks of midnight and starlight, wondrous in their glinting contrasts. She tended to Rychon before Panora returned him to his own chamber, assuring that she will have him presentable when she comes down, but she couldn't rid herself of the anxiety.

"How is our hall?" she asked softly, and Milla glanced at her.

"Cleaned, and hung with garlands along with the drapings, the torches are burning brightly, the great hearth glows in all of its splendour." she reported, and Claira looked back.

"And the guests?" Milla smiled.

"All well, and severely excited for this morning." she added, and Claira nodded, feeling her friend bringing her hair to hold it together with a jewelled pin.

"I hear we have quite a variety of visitors." she pried slightly, hearing Milla laughed.

"Yes, my lady. From north to south, many have come." she agreed, and then lowered her hands stepping around to add a silver and moonstone circlet to her brow before stepping back to examine her work, staring in silence and the frost blue eyes became mazed.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, and Milla smiled.

"No. You're beautiful, Claira." she assured, staring a moment longer and then motioned to the door.

"Shall we? It's almost time." she softly urged, and Claira forced her way forward, leaving the lord's chamber down the stairway, and she entered Rychon's room, finding Panora busy packing away sheets and blankets into a drawer, and arranging bottles of oils and linen wraps on its surface.

"Panora, is my son ready?" Claira asked, and the nurse turned back with a kind gesture.

"Yes, my lady. He is in his crib, I'll just be a moment longer." she said, and Claira nodded heading over to the crib while his nurse finished storing his necessities away; and her heart stopped again as tears bit at her cheeks. Over her son lay the exquisite black silk blanket, with the phoenix in all its rich colours adorned on its centre.

"A gift, for Rychon's presentation." she heard the voice behind her and turned to meet her friend's beautiful smile.

"I... I thought you made this for Bella..." she breathed, and Milla blushed.

"No. I made it for you. I lied, but because I didn't want to dishearten you." she confessed, and Claira moved forward wrapping her arms around her friend's shoulders. You never gave up hope... Even long after I did... You kept believing...

"Thank you..." she drew back, laughing as she swept away a tear, and then returned to the crib to collect her son, suitably wrapped in his house colours and they made their way down the steps and from the wing, down to the Hall of Fire where the masses gathered. Raeghun awaited them near the entrance to the Hollow, dressed strikingly in black boots and breeches, a white tunic and flame orange doublet under his black cloak, secured to his shoulders with the phoenix pin, and Milla and Panora made their way further down to join the others while the lord and lady lingered behind for a few moments before he started leading them down. She could hear the throngs of people, after a short while the conversing voices died down under the ascent of singing voices, a host of sounds rising through the walls to the sure rhythm of a drum, endearing, loving, soothing... drawing... and her heart started to race. Fear entangled her as her arms grew tighter around Rychon, and she fought an urge to turn and run, to flee back to the safety of the lord's wing and shut them in. She stopped, and saw Raeghun turn to look at her, and she stared at him.

"Is this really necessary? Everyone will see him, everyone will know him... What if..." she started, not understanding the uneasiness; but he smiled as he came back to her.

"My Claira, what are you afraid of?" he asked softly, and she felt the shiver course through her.

"I... I don't know..." her eyes left his, going to the light at the end of the incline where everyone waited anxiously, and she wanted to scream. Scream the dread away, to make it scatter like a flock of birds, then felt her husband's strong hands on her shoulders.

"Look at him." he told, and her eyes came back to his, burning beside her.

"Look at him." he said again, and she did. At the tiny child in her arms, so small, so frail... so helpless...

"He is our son. This is not a dream, the pain you endured to bring him into this world was real. He is healthy, and he is safe. No one will ever take him away from us." So small... He will grow... So frail... He will become strong... So helpless... He will be protected... Their son, Rychon Taugere, a lord of the burning mountain. The darkness dissolved, and she smiled looking up at Raeghun.

"Thank you, my love..." he turned again, laying his hand on her back.

"Come, everyone is waiting." he urged, and they started forward again, finally stepping through the arch and entering the Hall of Fire, seething with people, faces both familiar and foreign staring from the stairways to as far back the far wall. Their strongest vassals, Fochs, Rames's, Violets, lesser vassals from the Corridor, Haslingers, De Veaux's, Garreners, Reubels, and Seigres. From afar, the Tormonts, Baratheons, Starks, Lannisters, Arryns, Umbers, Tully's, Karstarks, Tyrells, Hightowers, Freys, Martells... Redwynes, Hornwoods, Mallisters, Scharers, Manderlys, even Mormonts, and many more. But Vega did not come. Coder did not come. Greyjoy did not come. Bolton did not come. Glover did not come. Royce did not come... Yet, it paled in comparison. The sentinels stood lined against he rounded wall of the third level, swords drawn and their hands settled on the pommels as the tips rested on the stone floor, Berin and Falgon centred amidst the ten. Claira and Raeghun approached the septon, a small man they did not recognise, having stepped in on rather short notice as their customary septon suddenly suffered fever; he was dressed in gold and ivory. Maester Adlyn stood to his left, a dormant golden torch held in his hands, and Milla to the septon's right holding a small urn with bright coral... sand? As they joined them, the song faded away and the septon looked up, revealing that he was blind. His eyes the flawless white of the clouds, but Claira couldn't help but stare. Eyes she had seen before...

"What a joyous day this is, my lord and lady." he breathed slowly, and then held his hand up to guide them to the stone railing where he could address the waiting guests. His hand reached out, touching the stone as they reached the border, and she looked over the hall, the warm smiling faces looking up at them as the septon started to speak, and rather than feel timid and fearful, the sensation of pride filled her, honoured that so many had come so far to see him. That they travelled for weeks, some for months, simply for this day.

"Welcome, lords and ladies, and thank you for sharing this marvellous day." The septon called out, and despite being a small, frail man with a soft voice, his words reached all and even beyond. Every stare was fixed on him, an irrefutable draw to him. He spoke wonderfully, immersing their attention in wonder as he introduced the heir of Mount Ardor, lord Rychon Taugere, the miracle that was so long waited for and now finally here. The merging of Frost and Flame, the kindling of Bright Fire. And for some reason, there was not much mention of either religion in particular... Maester Adlyn and Milla approached with the items, and the septon stepped slowly back. Raeghun took the torch from the maester, and Milla presented the urn to Claira.

"Take some granules, and cast it into the core of the torch." she whispered softly, and Claira brought her left hand over the small bowl while her right arm still held Rychon securely to her chest, taking up several grains of the sand between her fingers, and dropped it into the torch, which after a moment started to flicker, and flame and burn white and blue as she realized. Not sand... Fire Salts... Raeghun wound his arm around her waist, drawing her softly closer to rest her and their son against his powerful frame as he held the torch above him, displaying it with pride to all and the hall thundered deafeningly with voices of elation and commendation. Then he turned and headed to the wall where the sentinels were waiting moments ago, now positioned to create a path with their swords raised and angled, the tips touching above the lord moving through beneath them. He paused a moment, and then mounted the torch on the wall, leaving it to burn as he returned to the railing and the sentinels joined them along the stone, Berin to Raeghun's right and Falgon to Claira's left, the rest of their order positioned down the length of the railings.

"We serve the sons of Flame. We heed the heirs of Fire. With strength and courage we stand, by honour and loyalty we are bound. In peace and war we stay, our lives for theirs will fall." they sounded, all as one powerful voice in the space. Raeghun looked up, his eyes going over those in the hall.

"Let it be known to everyone, he is my son. He is my heir. His is the line of the Lords of Flame." he declared, to another surge of elated voices, and the ceremony was finally done. Guests assembled to see Rychon, and Claira's mother approached excitedly with her arms raised. You promised... she reminded herself, and carefully released him to her hands as she stared, watching as she brought him gently to her chest and her father looking on in wonder. Then he glanced at her, his silver-blue eyes glinting before he brought them back to the child, and brought his hand up softly running his fingers over the delicate skin. She laughed looking at them, happier than she had ever seen. More visitors came, the king and his queen; the wardens of the realms and other curious faces, all in awe of the little one. The day seeped on that they shared this with their families, hosting a phenomenal feast of roast game, vegetable pots and multiple varieties of berry pies along with wines and meads, sharing the high table with family and honoured guests where Claira sat next to her mother, still with Rychon in her arms; and Dyana to her left side. She took to holding her nephew Williame on her lap, almost at age with Bella, currently in Mandeline's care. A stout boy with dark hair and light eyes, a striking resemblance to his father Gerald, who sat on the other side next to her husband and father, sharing their thoughts and happiness. Then she glanced down the table, to Mae sitting nearby; also with a nearly year-old daughter she chose to name Chloe that looked just like her. She smiled, finding bliss in this day, being surrounded by family from all corners of their world, as well as close friends, whose children were given freedom of the gardens. Those who did not attend, did not matter. The king and queen were seated opposite from them, next to the wardens of the north to their left, and lord Tywin and Tyrion to their right, merrily enjoying the selection of wines while conversing with those around them. And to Claira's great relief her mother was severely reluctant to release her grandson to the care of another, looking up as he started to fidget and whimper in her hands. She looked up at Claira, with an eager smile.

"I believe he's hungry." she said softly, and Claira nodded as she stood heading over to Dyana.

"Would you mind taking Williame? It is time for Rychon's feeding." he said, and the opaque eyes smiled back at her.

"Of course, we'll come with you." she offered as she stood, holding out her arms for her son. She turned to Alyssa standing behind her, carefully taking Rychon from her and holding him against her. Sensing their intention, Mae, Milla, Carissa and other close women stood as well to join them, and Claira glanced at Cersei.

"Would you please excuse us, your grace? We will return shortly." Milla asked, and the queen nodded curtly.

"You are welcome to join us, your grace." Claira invited, and seeing a small smile from the graceful woman with golden hair and emerald eyes, she stood and joined the group of ladies heading down the hall, and towards the sun tower to the safety of Claira's common room, while still sharing soft conversation, finding the calm of the chamber high in the tower, away from others. The ladies settled in the comfortable chairs, Claira resting herself in her favoured chair while her mother stood next to her, shielding her momentarily from the others while she helped her open the left side of her breast, bringing Rychon to nurse, and draping his exquisite blanket over them for shelter, then she moved away claiming a chair next to her as the baby suckled in moments of tender draws from her mound.

"Your son does not have a wet nurse?" Catelyn asked, and Claira looked up with a smile.

"No, my lady. Only his nursemaid, I tend to him myself." she told.

"It must leave you exhausted." Mae mentioned, and their eyes met.

"Not at all. Everyone in my hold is eager to help whenever they can." she said, and shared with them her experiences; including the day she nearly fell down the steps. The sun dragged low as the merriment continued, and the ladies prepared to return to the feast hall to rejoin their people, and the queen approached Claira.

"May I hold him?" she asked suddenly, stunning Claira for a moment and she glanced at Milla waiting at the door for her as the others already started their way down. She nodded, allowing her to follow while they lingered behind.

"Certainly..." she agreed, and released Rychon to her, watching as she held him close to her for an instant, and then looked at him. The expression on her lovely face was torn between sorrow and longing.

"He looks so much like my first... Such a precious little thing..." she breathed, and then looked up bringing him closer to her shoulder.

"All your children resemble you, your grace." Claira recalled, all of them having the same golden hair and emerald green eyes.

"Not all of them. My first was like his father, with black hair just as his." she told, and Claira felt the same sorrow, and Cersei looked at her.

"He was taken from me, he hadn't seen his third moon. Fever claimed him, and I never saw him again... Never mentioned him again..." she revealed.

"I am so sorry, your grace." Claira could imagine it, the pain of losing something so precious. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her own son.

"Time heals the wounds, but the scars remain however light they become." the queen tried to ease, and then led the way down from the common room with Rychon still against her.

"I will confess I was rather surprised to receive the raven, but I am happy for you, lady Claira. You did keep the promise of your house." she said, and Claira looked down modestly.

"Thank you, your grace." they headed down the halls, again entering the Hall of Fire, and Cersei stopped on the second level next to the throne.

"Thank you for this opportunity. I believe that he will uphold your grand legacy." she said, and then carefully handed Rychon back to his mother, who took him securely and brought him to her chest.

"Thank you for sharing it with us, your grace." she returned, and proceeded down the grand staircase, noticing the tall mass enter from outside.

"Would grant me just a moment, please?" Claira asked, and Cersei nodded as Claira approached her sentinel.

"Ser Falgon?" he bowed to her.

"How will I serve, your elegance?" she paused, he changed his words in the presence of visiting houses. Both to uphold his formality, and avoid offence; most not familiar with his aged vocabulary.

"Did something happen?" she asked, wondering at the sounds from outside.

"Just a small disturbance, outside the castle walls. It has been addressed." he assured, and she eased. "Oh, good. Thank you." she looked down at Rychon against her, grateful for them.

"The peace and order of the hold is important for this day. We will see that it is kept." he said, and she looked up at him again, smiling as he stared at the child in her arms and she noticed something close to infatuation in the gaze. She lowered him slightly to reveal him to her most trusted, hearing him laugh.

"I have no doubt, that he will do great things. A bright future awaits him." he predicted, and Claira pressed the little body closer again.

"Yes. He is his father's son, after all." she agreed, and looked to the hall.

"You may return to your activities, we will meet again later." she allowed, seeing him bow again.

"Thank you, your elegance." she turned to retake her place in the hall, while Cersei lingered.

"You're still here, you must be happy." she said softly, looking back at Falgon.

"Very much so, highness." he agreed, and she smiled.

"My father believed you would have a better position under him." she mentioned.

"I serve whom I choose to serve, highness. And I will never find anywhere else, what I have found here." he told, and she sighed looking away at the activity in the hall.

"Wealth and glory?" he remained placid.

"Family." he corrected, bringing her eyes back to him.

"Well, that is something special." she said softly.

"It is the truest lasting form of wealth, and all that is needed." then he bowed to her.

"Please pardon me, highness. There are duties awaiting me." then he moved off, away from her as she stared at him. Perhaps she could find it in herself, not to entirely hate who was her own baby brother. Then she returned to the hall to retake her seat where the day passed away to the dark of night, and the Taugere's were showered with gifts in honour of Rychon. Pelts and blankets and toys and oils and treasures and books and hundreds of other items, and the affair only ended late into the evening when all was sated and some drunk, gingerly sauntering back to the comfort of their apartments. Panora took a sleeping baby back to his room for the night while Claira and Raeghun returned to theirs, discarding their clothing and settling on their bed. Claira lay staring at her husband, lying on his back and watching the canopy of their bed. Her finger ran gently down his chest and stomach, rising his skin in reflex to her touch and he looked at her.

"Thank you." she whispered, and he turned lifting himself on his left arm.

"For what?" she brought her eyes away from his for a moment, relishing the strength she found in him.

"For everything. This day started rather difficult for me, I don't know what I would have done if it was not for you." she said, and his hand touched her face.

"And thank you, for giving me a beautiful, strong son." he returned, and she blushed.

"You gave him to me." she corrected, and he smiled bringing himself closer to her.

"Well, we gave him to each other. And perhaps, he may be the first of several." he hoped as his fingers wove into her hair, and her arms wound around his shoulders.

"I could enjoy that." she thought of it, of having a full wing. Sons and daughters, the happy laughter of their children around them. Then he leaned down, placing his lips to hers in a deep kiss, and her arms tightened around him, wanting him and he moved forward settling himself between her thighs. His mouth moved to her neck, slowly down her throat to her chest as his touch burned through her, the sensation tingling over her skin and her knees gently pressing into his sides. His lips closed softly over the mound of her right breast, and she felt him gently draw from her, kindling her senses and she quietly moaned. A moment longer's delay in his release made her snigger, and he looked up bringing his face to hers.

"Don't be greedy. That is Rychon's food." she teased, and he smiled.

"He could learn to share." he returned, and she laughed bringing her hands to his face.

"I love you, my Raeghun. I love you so much..." she breathed, feeling his fingers to her hip.

"I love you, my Claira." she stared at him, at the ardent blue of his eyes.

"Still the same?" his eyes were soft, and loving, and true.

"Even more. I promised, that nothing would ever change us, no matter what the world throws at us." and he lowered to find her lips again, drowning in the depth of their passionate kiss. Her arms tightened around him, bringing him closer as he started to move gently into her, bringing painless if yet sensitive gasps and slight whimpers from her chest, once again free to love her fully with no restrictions...