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.

26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26 – THE DREAM

As the months passed, one after the other as the full moon bowed to the lord's moon and back again, life slowly receded to how it was, but for the overbearing longing and a surprise raid once in a while. Since the honour, her Battle Master left the burning mountain again five times under her orders to meet a threat on their domain, and returned unscathed each time with minimum loss. Once with lord Foch, twice with lord Rames, once with lord Seigre, and a final time to lord De Veaux. With his understanding he knew when, where and how to apply her strategic instructions, and the support of her leal banner-men they were able to push back or destroy whatever invasion lay a hand on their lands. Then followed the king's wedding to twice widowed lady Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden, to reseal the alliance between the Crown and the Reach, not entirely as extravagant as his brother's before him, but something grand all the same. Once again she received a summons, or this time rather an invitation to attend the royal wedding, and naturally swear fealty to the new king while she was there. To which she again replied with an unfeigned congratulations, but with the current state of their country, her regal responsibilities and the lack of a court master, would not be permitted to leave Mount Ardor, and hoped he would accept it as such. Not too long after, rumours had surfaced from several sources about increasing unrest in the capital, mostly circulating around a religious group branded "Sparrows". And others telling that the Boltons took up Winterfell, and reconstruction of the broken stronghold had started, and that the Night's Watch was now under command of Jon Snow as Lord Commander, with lord Stannis Baratheon now at Castle Black as his honoured guest. And through it all, the Silence persisted... Yet, she did not fear for them. With the world growing colder, the mist will grow thicker, and her home and her family will remain protected. More stories from across the Narrow Sea told that slave trade in Slaver's Bay had near to completely ceased, much to the pleasure and disdain of multiple groups; and the city of Meereen was now ruled by a queen with silver hair and three fierce dragons; something she had no pleasure or disdain in. If anything, she had remained indifferent to the affairs of any country outside of her own borders, which might not be the best course, but again could not be helped. As the sun slowly made its way to the blue horizon, attended by her sentinels, and little companions folding letters to be sealed and sorting important messages from simple notices; master Austinus and maester Adlyn with her, she sat at the head of the great table in the Hollow dressed in a gown of shimmering black satin with gold lining; this was the better place to be lately while she listened to their counsel on several matters and wrote her reply to the pressing messages they'd received. Requests and petitions from the reaches of her dominion and beyond, all seeking her answer or approval.

"How fares our guard count, ser Austinus?" Claira asked, not bringing her eyes away from the letter in front of her.

"Two hundred and thirty three men, my lady. No new recruits have been taken on in a couple of weeks." he reported, watching as she wrote.

"I see. Are you in need of more men?" he glanced at Falgon, standing behind her while Wymon had taken a seat next to her.

"Not in dire need, my lady." she lay the quill down, and folded the letter before sealing it.

"We can have a message sent to Hillfield, to send us any youngsters fit for service." she decided as she lay the letter down with others, and took a fresh parchment to reply on another message.

"As you bid, my lady." Austinus agreed as she retook the quill.

"Any news on the annual Revelry?" she continued, and maester Adlyn looked up.

"It is to be held at Hornsney this year, my lady. But lord Violet has asked for a couple of weeks postponement, in light of the recent request for honey from White Harbour and Seagard." he reported, and she nodded.

"Very well. Three weeks should suffice." Claira agreed. Then she paused a long moment on a letter received from Lord Commander Snow at Castle Black, asking for new recruits. She breathed in and let it go slowly. Centuries ago, it was one of the realm's great honours to serve in the Night's Watch, but now... Now it was a punishment. Then she looked up at master Austinus.

"Please have this delivered to Eidolon, master. Have all appropriate prisoners sent to The Wall for service. And have an assembly point issued for all willing men to join them. The party leaves north in a month." she instructed, and he took the letter.

"Eidolon?" he seemed momentarily confused as he looked at her.

"Our jailer, ser." she clarified, and then he smiled.

"Oh. Yes, my lady. Forgive me, I've never heard his name before." he agreed, and she took the next message; another relay from the north. From he who would name himself the true king. A demand for their support which would be invaluable now that hers was the proud home of the first Battle Master in more than two hundred years, and an offer to keep her lands and positions if she swore him fealty; and it left her angered as she threw the letter down with no intent to answer, and for a moment the girls stared at her before issuing the other a nervous glance.

"Your grace?" his voice was gentle beside her, but the fire raced through her fingers.

"I will not pledge my people to some imprudent claimer for the Iron Throne!" she sat back, suddenly annoyed and exhausted at the same time for all the letters.

"My lady, lord Stannis is a fair man-" maester Adlyn started gently, but her eyes silenced him.

"My people have suffered enough! We defend ourselves as best we can, we will fight no one's wars for them." she refused, and he nodded. She claimed another moment for herself, noting the copper sunlight of late noon against the wall to her right as the heat slowly faded. She had yet to meet with Jeody on tonight's supper, but it would have to wait until she was done here. Or maybe she'd just leave him to his plays of fancy, which right now seemed severely tempting. To just wait and find a delightful surprise brought to their tables... Then the long call of a warhorn drew her attention, followed by the sentry tower bells in answer, and the excited howling and barking of their hounds, and secretly she sank away. She wasn't expecting someone today, perhaps it was an envoy from Earndale or Hurlton, and then she looked back at the letters.

"Wymon, maester Adlyn, would you please be so kind as to meet our visitors? I'll be down as soon as I've finished our replies." she asked, forcing herself forward.

"My little ones, you may go with them if you wish." she offered, and the girls stood to follow as Claira took up the quill while her sentinel and maester stood, issuing a small graceful bow before leaving the chamber.

"My lady?" she looked up at master Austinus, who was still present.

"May I beg your leave, as well?" he asked, and she smiled.

"Of course, ser. And thank you. I will inform you of any necessary alterations." she allowed, and he stood as well, departing after a small bow and a polite greeting while she tried to focus on the parchments. Five more letters she answered, requests from Cainhorn Keep, Blazenbury and The Fountain, and sanctions from Hurlton and Bellburn. The towns were already starting to store away crops and other necessities like produce, grains, pelts and firewood for the coming winter, which maesters predicted to be a long one, and it was relieving that her countrymen took up their preparations early.

"So, what do you think, ser?" she asked, perhaps only to break the silence.

"Of what, your grace?" his voice came back to her calmly, and she smiled.

"Of the current reign of our lovely region." she directed, and heard him shifting. It was a nice sound, really. The brush of leather and iron, and the cross guard of his great sword gently ringing against the clasps of the chest belt. Even that sound, made her feel safe.

"I think you are well suited to it, your grace." he praised, and she laughed.

"There are those who say, that it is not I that govern these lands. That it is you. They say that you 'whisper in my ear, telling me what to do'." she hinted, and for a moment looked up at him. He was smiling, an amused grin.

"I would love to whisper to you, your grace. But our difference in height will make that unwise. So, if you are in need of my advice, I will simply tell you." he assured, and she nodded.

"Well, good to know that, then." she continued with the letters, and then heard footsteps coming up the hallway, hard and intent. Perhaps the visitor had no patience to wait, as asked.

"Ser Falgon, would you please be so kind as to meet my guest. I will attend them shortly." she breathed, thinking that she really hadn't the burning desire to meet with anyone today, but before he could move away from her side the footfalls entered the Hollow, suddenly stopping at the other end of the table.

"Since when does the lady of the hold ask her sentinels to greet a guest in her stead?" a strong voice demanded, but there was a playfulness to it, and she looked up to see a familiar face. One she did not expect to see, but one she was exaltedly happy to see, and she smiled.

"Welcome home, lord Berin." she said, and he returned her smile.

"It is good to be back." he replied merrily as he stared at her. He'd regained the weight he'd lost during the war, and a cropped beard covered his cheeks and jaw, evidence of a week's travel.

"You must be tired. Please, take the time to settle in, your chambers in the east wing are exactly as you've left them. I will meet you again tonight, after I've finished my assignments." she proposed, and he nodded before looking at Falgon.

"Won't you join me, ser?" he requested politely, and the tall warrior glanced at his queen.

"You'll be al right, your grace?" he asked, and she nodded as she returned her attention to the letters.

"Certainly, I'm sure everyone is eager to see you as well." she told, and he bowed his head before joining Berin down to the Hall of Fire.

"She's different." Berin breathed softly.

"She is." Falgon agreed, and his friend glanced up at him.

"She's... harder." he identified, having not seen the joy in her eyes that he might have expected.

"She's had some hard years. But, we learn how to move forward, and she is stronger. She has refused more suitors than you have teeth, and repelled more attacks than most men have fingers." Falgon revealed, and Berin paused in the hallway.

"I... I never realized..." he muttered, giving in to the fact that they had left her when she was vulnerable.

"She's missed you, all of you. But, circumstance forces us to change. The result of that change, is not always for the worse." Falgon replied, and it was true. She had found a strength that was rarely compared to, especially for women. Then he looked up.

"And still nothing has been heard of Raeghun?" he asked, watching the broad shoulders rise and fall in a breath.

"Nothing, unfortunately. Some of our hunters have returned from Dorne just a few weeks ago, and prince Doran Martell was very accommodating. But he too, cannot offer any help, either word or hand. But so far as there's nothing bad, hope remains." Falgon said, and Berin moved forward again as they continued on their way.

"How do you know they were all the way to Dorne?" he asked, and Falgon laughed.

"Because they came back with a brass viper, given by the prince as condolence." he told. Of all the many things that changed, this man didn't seem to. He was most the same as always in many ways, irrespective of the three years that they hadn't seen him. But with all accounts of him having to be older, he attributed this to good heredity, and the tall warrior simply bore his years remarkably well.

"Congratulations on your position as Battle Master, that is a fine accomplishment." Berin told with a smile, and the dark eyes came down to his.

"Thank you. An honour, but I cannot admit to desiring it." he confessed in the silence of the hall.

"If she titled you, there was no one better. Your position exceeds my own now." Berin lightly teased him, but it made him smile.

"She wanted to ask you. But I'm afraid that our situations forced her otherwise." he told, but Berin laughed.

"With what I've heard, you are well suited to it, ser." he said, hearing Falgon laugh.

"My father once said, that a man's greatness is what he makes it. Even those outside of the nobility, may rise high in the world." he mentioned, and Berin nodded.

"Very true, considering the Night's Watch's own current Lord Commander." he reflected, and they emerged into the Hall of Fire where maester Adlyn and young ladies Beatrice and Samantha was speaking mirthfully with lady Milla as the castle hands proceeded to carry their effects into the castle towards the east wing to be returned to their chambers. Milla looked up at them with a bright smile.

"Good day, ser Falgon. How good to see you." she greeted, and he returned her kind gesture.

"Greetings, lady Milla. And welcome home." he replied, before noticing a fair couple making their way up the grand staircase. A tall young man, only just beyond a boy, with ash blonde hair and green eyes, dressed in fine riding boots, dark breeches, an ivory tunic and a green samite doublet with a black leather sword belt about his waist; and a beautiful maiden on his arm with black locks hanging to her waist and deep green eyes, dressed in lilac and pearl. And with a place on the left side of her fine leather girdle inlaid with small azurite spheres, hung a delicate but deadly silver dagger, the grip strong black leather and a shining pearl set in the pommel. She looked up at him, her eyes clear and happy as she smiled.

"Good day, ser Falgon. Maester Adlyn." she greeted, along with her brother, and Falgon smiled. She was a woman now, but she will always be his Little Bluebell...

"And to you, lady Bella and lord Vaellion. Welcome home." she pitched forward, jumping and throwing her arms around his neck to hold him with a happy laugh.

"I've missed you, so much." his arms circled her, and held her for a moment.

"And we've missed you." he replied before letting her down, and then his attention went to Vaellion, who extended a hand while young Beatrice and Samantha immediately introduced themselves as well, happy for another friend.

"Compliments on your stature, Battle Master Falgon. Seems the world is quite taken with you, many can't stop talking about it." he praised, the light in his eyes joyful and Falgon took his hand.

"Thank you. Hard work goes a long way." he teased, and Vaellion laughed.

"That it does, ser. That it certainly does." he agreed, then the tall warrior looked up towards the doors, noting that one of their members were missing.

"Where's your brother?" he asked.

"He chose to stay behind at Citrine Arch for now. But he should return home as well, before too long." Berin explained, and Falgon wondered for a moment. Was he the true reason, that the youngster had no desire to return home with his family?

"I see." he finally breathed,

"Where is our lady?" Milla asked excitedly.

"She has some assignments to finish, but promised to meet us later. In the interim, she has advised that we take the opportunity to settle in." Berin told, and her spirit seemed to wane slightly.

"Very well then..." during their journey back home, her most prominent thoughts were of how happy she would be to see Claira again, revelling in each day that brought them closer. But with the rule of a country now hers, the lady of Mount Ardor's responsibilities came first, of course. Bella then turned to someone waiting at the base of the steps, and smiled.

"Stephanie, come here sweetling." she called softly, and the girl looked up, regarding all of them. She was lean as a blade of grass, tall and delicate, and at age with Bella. Her brown eyes were clear and bright, and her honey gold hair caught the light from the fires like strands of silk. Then she moved slowly up the staircase, and it was a clear thing that she was extremely shy, and timid.

"Good... Good day." she greeted them in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Welcome, my lady." Wymon greeted, and she blushed. Bella's hands rested gently on her shoulders.

"Forgive my sweet Stephanie. She's terribly bashful." Bella pardoned, and Vaellion laughed.

"She's as daring as a duckling, our Stephanie Ashwood." he teased, and her hand came up to her mouth as she looked away from him and Bella cast him a scornful glare. But before she could reprimand him, the Battle Master gave his own.

"All the more reason to protect such a gentle lady, lord Vaellion." he told in his soft manner, but his eyes alone gave more than the words and Vaellion nodded quickly.

"With my life, ser." he agreed, and finally the fearful girl's eyes met those of the great man. She wasn't simply introverted, she was afraid. Of everything. Then Milla turned to her daughter.

"Bella, why don't you show Stephanie your chambers? I'm sure she'd love it." she suggested, and Bella gently took her hand.

"Come." she beckoned, and both the other youngsters fell in with them, Beatrice even going so far as to affectionately taking her free arm, for which she received an anxious glance but the girl did not attempt to pull free.

"You're going to love this place, Stephanie. Our own chambers are down here as well." she told as they moved down the passage, and Falgon stared after them. For some reason, the girl's behaviour was not natural.

"Has she always been like this?" he asked, and Berin shrugged.

"As far as we know. She arrived at Citrine Arch about a year ago attended by but a single old guard, and Bella took her under her wing. They've been quite inseparable since." Berin explained, his attention also on the passage where the girls vanished.

"Sad to say, some think that she's unintelligent because she's quiet, but I assure you that is not the case. She doesn't ride, or sing, or dance but she has a brilliant mind. I'd hoped that some of Bella's confidence might rub off on her, in time." he further added, and then Falgon's attention came back to him.

"The girl's not shy. She's afraid." he concluded, and Milla glanced between them.

"How could you tell?" Vaellion asked, and he sighed.

"I can see it." A shy maid would at least smile, even when she is blushing, but Stephanie Ashwood is scared to death of everything, and of everyone. Especially men, it would seem.

"Well, now that we're back home, I'm sure things will improve." Milla eased. That evening they waited in the southern hall, welcomed by all as the wonderful smell of the sweet gardens and Jeody's kitchen filled the air around them along with the pleasant, happy voices. Moments later, silence fell across the hall as a vision in black and gold entered the feast hall, still and all as wondrous as before with her luscious waves of midnight and starlight coiled at the nape of her neck before falling down to her low back. The children ran to her first, happily embracing her with a joyful greeting; and then Milla approached her as well placing her arms around her. She returned the gesture, but there was no strain in her arms, which struck the court maiden as odd for an instant before brushing it off, dismissing it for fatigue. They took their seats at the high table while others assembled around the long tables down the hall with Claira assuming her place in the lord's high chair where her lord would have been, and her Battle Master in honour to her right as the head of the Sentinels and his wife faced them, their children and the young companions next to them. With light discussion they supped on honey glazed roast suckling pig, green salad with cherry tomatoes, crumbed cheese and crushed nuts, pumpkin fritters and creamy spiced potatoes along with sweet rose wine and berry press, followed by treacly berry pie. They spoke of many things within this domain and that, and Berin made mention that the area between Long Lake and the Wolfswood had apparently been searched by multiple groups to find Pale Haven, to his relief none so far with success that they've heard. Claira laughed, sounding amused by that as she replaced her chalice.

"Like The Wall, The Eyrie and Hightower, Pale Haven is one of the great wonders of this world. Brandon the Builder himself helped in its construction." then she sat back against the rest of the chair.

"It was strategically placed in an area where there is always mist throughout the year, and built with alabaster stone. So long as the mist holds, Pale Haven will remain protected." she took the chalice for a small swallow of wine.

"So it's not as magical a creation as some would believe?" Vaellion asked, and she smiled.

"No, my sweet. Not in that sense. It's still there, it always will be. It's just very well hidden. And with the mists thickening, riders can pass by within several feet of the walls and never see it." The Silence of the Mist, indeed. Then she turned her attention to the youngsters, just a few seats down.

"Beatrice, Samantha." they looked up at her, and she smiled.

"You will both henceforth attend lady Bella in all she needs as her companions, along with Stephanie." she instructed, and they glowed for just that moment.

"As you bid, my lady." Samantha agreed happily.

"We would retake our responsibilities tomorrow, if it please you?" Berin offered, glancing at Milla.

"You've only just arrived, Berin. There's no rush." Claira eased them, these two were like to work themselves to death if she'd let them. But tonight they shared with fascinating stories until late into the night, and even Stephanie dared to speak full sentences as time passed well after most retreated to the sanctuaries of their beds, until Claira stood.

"You will please forgive me if I leave you, there are some other matters that require my attention still." she pardoned, and they nodded before she turned to Falgon.

"You will attend me later, ser. Please ask our maester for the maps on our eastern shore along The Bite." she instructed, and he too accepted his order before she left, allowing them some time alone, but a short time later concluding their exchange, the Battle Master stood as well.

"If you'd please pardon me, my lords and ladies. I should not keep her grace waiting." he said, and Berin smiled.

"Of course, ser. Good night." he greeted, and the great warrior vanished from the hall like a shadow. Milla stared at the plate in front of her, the scraps of berry pie turned bitter as she thought.

"Off to bed with you lot as well, we've had a long day." she heard Berin beside her, and after a fond greeting Vaellion, Bella and all her companions left for their chambers as well.

"Do you think she's still mad at us?" Milla breathed, pushing around the crumbs with a fork. Claira seemed happy enough to see them, but her demeanour was uncharacteristically isolated. She seemed almost... cold.

"No, you've said it yourself. Claira's not the like to stay mad. I'm sure today was a great surprise to her, we did not inform her that we were coming home." he tried to comfort, and she set the fork down discarding the activity she grew quickly annoyed with.

"We left her. We left her when she needed us the most." she suppressed the emotions, but then looked up at his smile.

"And we're back now." he told her, bringing a smile to her features.

"We resume our responsibilities tomorrow. Claira has been left alone for far too long." she decided, and he took her hand, bringing her fingers to his mouth.

"As you bid, my lady." he teased, and they stood issuing the hall be cleared before making their way to the east wing for a good night's rest before they would retake their former obligations of the hold, as they should.

Falgon carried the maps from Maester Adlyn's library to the lords wing as he'd done several times before, and softly knocked on the door. A moment later, lady Claira opened the door to him and he bowed formally.

"Your grace. The maps you asked for." he presented.

"Good. Come inside." she stepped aside and he entered, setting the parchments down on the wide rounded table next to the door.

"I can't believe that every strategy was planned in this room for the past years, and every time we won. Every time we were able to push back." he muttered watching as she unrolled the maps that showed the geographical region of the east side of the Corridor, securing the edges with small wood figures, then she came to stand next to him as she examined them.

"We've been able to maintain the flow on and through our land. I am not as my husband was, but our people need us to support and protect them, and we must do our best to preserve them and their lives until he comes home." she spared another moment scanning the maps, and then indicated a small settlement fifty leagues south-west from White Harbour. A small farming village, called Smallember.

"Send thirty men-" she started, but he placed a hand softly on hers.

"Your grace, there haven't been any attacks in a month. I dare to say that the onslaughts are pulling away from us. Perhaps, until it is needed, you may take leave from your battle preparations? Besides, you might enjoy the return of your family first, as well." She breathed in deeply, and sighed.

"Make me say you're right. I've been at this since... I can't even remember. It certainly is wonderful that they're back, and the girls have been a blessing although I think they might have grown sullen in my presence. Bella would be the better choice for them." she decided, recalling their joy for new faces and new company. But Stephanie, seemed the most fragile of the four despite her attempts.

"Come, this can wait another day or two." he said, releasing her hand.

She turned and as she released her hair from the elegant coil to fall naturally down to her thighs she made her way to the divan in front of the hearth where the chalice of peach press waited for her as always, from where she could watch the fire. Quill lay patiently on its shelf awaiting the return of the lord. Falgon watched her intending to leave her to a peaceful night, but before he could excuse himself from the hall, he paused and stared at her, examining every feature that now seemed suddenly bare.

"Your grace, when was the last time you've had a decent night's rest?" He noted the still dark shades under her frost blue eyes, the light of the fire almost made them darker. Her skin discharged a shade of pale that was not natural where she sat on the soft furs between the cushions stacked on the divan facing the great hearth, her hands rested on her lap.

"I'll be fine. I find it difficult to sleep peacefully in an empty bed. Whatever sleep finds me, is rejected by loneliness and bad dreams. Sometimes, I prefer to be awake." She seemed comfortable, but there remained a restlessness about her and her mind was elsewhere. Severely distracted by the circumstances she was thrown into. She took up the duties of a lord without hesitation, weighing that addition to her own obligations as a mother and the lady of Mount Ardor, it was an immense burden to bear. It was so small relief, or none at all that young lord Rychon was warded elsewhere. The decision was to keep him safe. Loneliness, times two – husband and son; she truly had no one in her inner security.

"You will wear yourself out, going on like this. Allow me, your grace, to present you with some tea. Perhaps a few drops of Nightshade essence to ease your mind." He offered, and she sighed.

"Maester Adlyn always leaves a chalice of infused press for me." she mentioned as he moved to the nearby table.

"The warmth may prove better for the essence than cold press." he suggested, and filled one of the delicate porcelain cups with deep amber liquid from a small iron pot, brought up well after the torches were lit. He added a few drops of honey, and pulled a small glass vial from a pouch on his waistbelt with a purple liquid, and added two drops to the cup before stirring its contents with one of the wooden picks and then brought it over to her. He lowered to his knee in front of her, and presented the tiny cup to her, which she took gratefully.

"Thank you." She whispered, and he nodded. She brought it to her mouth, and swallowed a good bit of it, then lowered the cup to her knees.

"Sit with me for a while." She invited, indicating to the open space next to her; and he obeyed, taking Summit from his back and letting it rest against the wall next to the hearth before sitting down next to her.

"I've heard Maester Adlyn tell today, that the word from Oldtown, is that they are doing very well. He is learning quickly, and hopes to return soon." He reported, and she smiled.

"That is fine news. And how I wish to see my Rychon, to have everyone back where they belong. I just hope that no strain is placed on him, Falgon. He is a child; the time for his leadership will come and stay. His days as a child will not last." She said, sounding almost pleading with him.

"I'm sure he's doing just fine. But, he is worried about you, your grace. He knows that you bear all these burdens that were meant for more than a single person, and the notion of it all may be a frightening thing for him. You must take care of yourself first, before you direct your attention to anything else. There are those around you whom may offer their aid, after all." He said, and she looked up at him. With half of her family returned, her world will improve slowly.

"You are right, of course. I've been so busy lately, that I did not think of much except him and keeping our people safe. Could I only tear myself in two…" he turned slightly towards her, and watched her drink more of the tea.

"He understands. But I want to recommend that when he does return, you take some time for the two of you, only." He said, and she nodded.

"I will. Whenever he returns, I will." She promised, and he smiled. She finished the tea, and sat back against the rest.

"Tell me one of your stories." She asked before he seized the chance to stand and bid her a good evening, so he eased back again as he thought for a moment, searching for something he hasn't shared with her yet.

"Many years ago, I was with a group of mercenaries when we were hired temporarily as guards. We made our way over the Basilisk Isles, to Gogossos on the Isle of Tears. It was a prison you see, harsh and isolated." He started, and went on to tell that he spent a season there before being sent onto the mainland of Sothoryos to track down and retrieve escaped prisoners. The easiest way, was up one of the many rivers. There he survived the overturning of their boat and watched as a great scaled beast devoured two of his nine companions before being able to make it to the shore. They trekked through dense jungle and discovered what remained of three of the escaped captives, while losing four more members to something named the Red Death, a terrible disease that he would rather not reveal the agonizing details of. A tattooed lizard claimed the life of another before they discovered more remains. He and the last two of his companions came upon a ruined city, a place where nothing grew and even the jungle refused to reclaim. Then he felt a subtle pressure on his shoulder, and looked down to see her head resting on him, her breathing even and calm. He decided, with all that has happened that he would finish his story another time; and rather than wake her, he would deliver her to her bed before leaving. Gently he laid her head against the backrest before standing to remove the chest belt, the bracers, his doublet and armour to avoid injuring her; and set it down on a chair next to the divan; this left him clad in his boots, leather breeches and a sleeveless flannel shirt. Then he went back to her, and carefully slid his arms under her to pick her up.

"Forgive me, your grace. I trust your bed will be a more suitable resting place this night." He whispered softly as he raised her up, she whimpered slightly and opened her eyes for a moment, making him draw a breath when he saw them. Her eyes were clouded. He suddenly realized that he had never used the essence, and that extended heat and motion altered the liquid, affecting how it was meant to work, and it didn't result in the way than that, which would be available in the maester's stores. It numbed her as expected, but her mind waged a fuming war for awareness due to the long stretches of sleeplessness. Hoping that she would not wake again, he proceeded to carefully carry her to the main bed chamber where he lay her down gently on the silks and pillows, the black and white strands of hair draped over her face. After tenderly wiping them aside he started to move away, but she suddenly grabbed onto his wrist, still somewhere in the battleground between sleep and sentience.

"Raeghun... Stay with me, please…" her head dropped back down on the pillows.

"Please stay with me…" she pleaded. He cursed as he looked about the room when her hand released him; and he rued giving her the serum from his own supply and not that which Maester Adlyn had left for her.

"I'll just watch the stars for a while." he whispered, hoping she would fall asleep again quickly. Then he moved to the window, and looked out into the blackness outside. There were stars, brightly shining above the oceans, but far in the distance there were the flashes of light that indicated a storm, brightening the horizon with silver shards while he thought. She hadn't slept well for years it would appear, and because of that her senses now tried to resist it, and rather fervently at that. His serum might have become stronger over the years, he'd hoped strong enough that she would not wake easily; but apparently not strong enough to render her completely benumbed either. He'd never seen this before, and their maester would certainly find it intriguing. This fragile little woman, who created a power like no other... The chamber had started to grow darker, now a shade of amber shadows in the silence. Then he looked back at the still form on the bed, wondering if he might dare to leave, and then for a long moment, he stared at one of the candles where a moth circled the flame in an almost mad, drunken delight for the light and warmth it gave. Don't you know, you'll get burnt if you get too close... So, he smothered the candles on the dresser between his fingers, leaving the insect to find his own way in the dark before hearing the stir of a moving body, silk on silk and her voice, soft and lethargic.

"Raeghun... Come to bed... please..." again he sighed off a curse. More and more, he was astounded by her willpower.

"Lie down with me..." he searched for the thick quilt, normally at the foot of the wide bed, but suddenly realized that it was not there as he grew cold, and rigid. The chambermaid must have taken it to be washed. The sheets were far too thin, and the furs were much too small.

"Please..." he condemned himself, but vowed to submit to her no matter the cost of it; and so he obeyed, and lay himself carefully down beside her after he pulled a fleecy sheet over her, and gingerly caressed strands of her hair between his fingers while she slept and slowly the fire from the room's hearth faded and the world was left drenched in darkness. With the gradually fading elusive blue shine from the moon that weaved in and out from behind dark clouds that came ever closer, came the smell of rain. He breathed, focusing on the sounds from outside and wondering if this night may seem shorter or longer than most as he identified the chirping of crickets, scuttling about somewhere over the outside walls, the owls on the rooftops and the flutter of wings as they passed open windows, and the distant sound of thunder as the storm approached. His eyes left her then, and he dared to breathe in deeply. Had his liege been here, he would surrender him to the Boltons to keep alive their feared tradition; but he felt himself ease and a smile could find he corners of his lips then. This wasn't his place, it never would be and he knew that. But, if it made her feel safe and at ease enough to sleep, he would act the pillow for her. She seemed to be calm though, and perhaps it was time to leave her to her dreams for the night. As he thought of that, he unexpectedly felt fingers on his cheek, warm and gentle and he looked down to see her eyes, closed as if asleep but somehow still battling for conciousness. His fingers closed over hers comfortingly, and he could make out a smile.

"Kiss me…" she whispered sending a stab into his chest, and his fingers tightened on hers.

"My queen…" the words were scarcely more than a breath on his lips. I can't...

"Please… Please kiss me…" she begged, and his mouth went dry and acrid. But he leaned forward cautiously, and just gently allowed his lips to touch hers in a sweet and tender instant. He pulled slightly back, breaking the contact that held him so warmly, but then she moved forward, pressing her mouth to his again securely while her hand slid around his neck, and his caressed her cheek before sliding into her hair. For a moment, he expected the tightness again, the dizziness and stinging, waited for the breathlessness... But there was nothing, only her sweet scent that enveloped him; she even tasted of the sugary flowers that identified her, and it left him yearning. She kissed him deeply as she brought him closer, the touch of her magical caress taking him, entangling him, drowning him entirely in senseless surrender; and he found himself yielding to her, giving in completely without question or resistance while she pulled the shirt from his shoulders, exposing his scarred skin to the air; and he in turn freed her from the sheet, and the black and gold dress that constrained her, then her fingers slid down his side leaving warm trails before slipping the leather breeches from his waist. She continued to kiss him passionately, her lips moving down to his neck; displaying a desire he was willing to return as he gently pushed her down on the bed and his mouth started to wander over her body, slowly down over the mounds of each breast bringing a soft gasp of pleasance, and further to her stomach where his touch rose her skin in reflex. He felt her hands on him, the burning tips of her fingers grazing at his shoulders, as he moved farther down over the skin of her low abdomen when he noticed her strain, and her whisper that called a name; but he soothed her with gentle hands and soft kisses until she eased before moving again, slowly to the sensitive curve where his tongue met her eagerly. She breathed in sharply, and released it in a tense moan as the hunger of this new creature devoured her, her hands straining into the skin of his shoulders to bring him closer still as her back arched to the sensation. Her legs tensed against his arms, begging release against the contrast of her fingernails digging into his flesh as she distorted and whimpered beneath the invigorating awareness; but his hands held her, permitting no escape while he consumed her wholly, her smell, her taste, her touch and even her consciousness. He pleased her intently until her fingers ploughed over his shoulders and arms as her body arched to him, her voice drowned in the moment a thunderous crash hammered into the heavens and rippled to the edges of the horizon as he listened to deep intense gasps, and with his garments discarded his lips returned up the length of a shivering body, once more slowly until it met hers again passionately. Her arms wound around his neck, and his breathing deepened as his right hand moved under her shoulder while his left drew her knee past his ribs, allowing him greater reach; and in an inebriated mad moment he forced inside of her withdrawn body as her fingers mangled into his thick hair, summoning a single agonized cry from her parted lips as he tensed and groaned; taken and narcotised by a sweet pain more addictive than even the darkest honey, one he'd forgotten long ago... He made her gasp again painlessly as he moved, bringing himself ever closer, reaching into her core. His right hand softly glided over her chest and shoulder, then into her hair as he kissed her, and he moved again. Deeply, deliberately and her soft sighs of enjoyment transformed into new utterances of delight each time he pressed himself strongly to her. She clawed at his shoulders, and down his back leaving dark streaks, and his left hand crushed the delicate fabric that covered the pillows as they absorbed each other, frost and stone under flashes of silver light; and the boundless drunk pleasure. He felt the burn of her hands moving down his arms, feeding at the skin and then the tips of her right fingers slipped under the leather band around his left arm, wanting of a hold and he brought himself closer to her, overcome and intoxicated by their state. Their lips met between heated gasps, desperate for air, then as he moved forward again she gasped sharply, and he felt the leather band break away from his muscles; but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Only her... Her arms wound around his neck and shoulders again, the fingers of her right hand resting on a prominent scar on his back, and she breathed him in on his rhythm, harder with each movement until he lifted her from the mattress onto his legs, his left arm wound around her back and the fingers wove into her hair while his right supported her, holding the small of her back; and eyes brightened in the night, alive once more. There he kept her, and in several final powerful motions she smothered yet another quenched cry into the skin of his shoulder as he passed his seed into her with a heavy satisfied sigh, and they melted back into the softness of the bed, breathing deeply and heavily, but slaked; and the rain drenched the castle from the skies. He lay her softly down on the silks, still gasping desperately to bring air into her chest; but as he started to move away her arms tightened around his shoulders to hold him against her shuddering body, and the sudden realization struck him like the kick of a mule to his gut as his eyes took her in; breathless, weak and shivering beneath him. What have I done? What have I done...

"I love you... I miss you, so much..." his left arm tightened around her, the fingers of his right hand woven into her hair as he tenderly pressed her cheek against his. It was heart wrenching, that he hear these words that did not belong to him. But he didn't care, he wanted to comfort her however he could in the deep cold of this bitter loneliness...

"I know. I will be with you, always..." he softly whispered against her, before placing his lips against her neck in a true loving kiss.

"Try to sleep now." he pulled the sheet over her again, and stayed with her, caressing the skin of her arm and shoulder as she lay nestled against his scarred chest. You'll get burnt if you get too close...

"You smell different." he heard her say softly, and he moved slightly to look at her.

"You smell like wet earth." she wasn't awake, not yet. The essence took hold firmly, and had a far stranger outcome than he'd thought, but how she was still neither asleep nor awake was astounding.

"I'm sorry." he whispered.

"I like this smell." There he stayed until the sky started to take on a hue of purple and orange; then he lifted himself to redress and return to the hall where he dissolved onto one of the chairs before the hearth, and the previous night played over and over in his mind. He gave her himself without her knowledge that it was him – she had believed him to be her husband; that was the same as forcing himself onto her, and he would suffer for it. Had it not been for his overly tough skin, he would have bled for her... Birds chirped in the garden, and light spilled across the rooftops while he emptied a goblet of aged red. He grimaced at the thoughts. I do not love her! But then the resentment slowly faded into something more resembling of sorrow. I cannot... I can not love her... then he saw a white apparition float down the stairs and he knelt.

"Falgon... have you been here all night?" she asked, a simple gown of white silk draped over her and it flowed down every curve like milk off slick rhinestones before it trailed behind her, and her hair fell unrestricted about her shoulders and down her back.

"Yes, your grace. I hope you slept... better." he paused for a word,

"I did. I had a dream..." she said, suddenly looking to her left like she recalled something.

"A bad dream?" he asked as he looked up at her, but saw her smile.

"No. A wonderful dream. It felt so... real. Raeghun was home, he was with me." she said softly, and Falgon looked down once more, his eyes meeting the cold hard stones beneath him. She did remember, although not all of it; yet, if she needed him to be a dream, that is what he would be. Then he stood.

"With your permission, your grace. I should leave you to your morning." he proposed, and she nodded.

"Of course, you must be exhausted." she allowed, then he bowed to her again and left in silence down the halls to the barracks where he might... do what? Cleansing himself might be a suitable option, but no amount of scrubbing would ever wash away this sin. But considering that there were always people moving through the guard's hall, that might not be the best place to go right now. Someone will notice... So instead, he found himself in a secluded chamber of the west wing of the castle, cursing himself in the separation. He would never undo it, or make it right. But he would continue to be her strength and shield, until the end of everything.

"I've been looking for you." he heard a voice behind him, and turned to see Berin standing in the doorway. He did not remain unnoticed after all.

"Falgon, where were you?" he asked as he came closer, and the tall warrior turned away.

"With Claira." he replied, and Berin stared at him, utterly struck cold. Falgon had never used her name that directly before. She had always been 'her grace' to him. Something was wrong.

"With 'lady Claira'…" he corrected, simply because of a sudden daze.

"Yes." came the curt reply once again, and he felt his body grow tense and dull.

"Were you standing guard all night?" he asked, but the tall sentinel did not turn.

"If that is what you wish to call it…" he breathed, and the dullness became a series of stings down his spine. Something was wrong.

"Are you al right?" Berin asked as he came closer still, taking a place beside his friend, who turned his face away from him.

"I'm fine." he replied, again making Berin feel unnaturally alarmed for the short answers that were severely out of place for this man.

"Are you sure? You're not acting like yourself." he tried, and saw the shoulders move in a deep breath.

"I said I'm fine. Now please, just leave me be." he asked softly, while the stinging suddenly transformed into flames over his back. Something was wrong.

"This isn't like you, Falgon." What happened? Let me help you... As his hand touched the shoulder, the dark eyes met his. They too, were different. Stained, rueful, hateful...? bitter.

"Berin…" he started, but the words evaporated. Like they could not be spoken, and the flames worked their way along his arms and legs with a raging urgency.

"What's wrong?" he asked, but then Falgon turned away from him again.

"Nothing." he sighed and started to walk away seizing an escape, but Berin followed as the fire devoured him. Something was wrong. Falgon would never flee from anything...

"Falgon, what happened?" he tried again, almost pleading for an answer.

"My sin, is my weight to bear." he said, and the fire flooded each vein from Berin's neck down to his ankles as he suddenly grabbed onto the tall warrior's shoulder to turn him. Something was wrong.

"What happened? What happened?!" he demanded, throwing the tall sentinel against the wall with more strength than he ever knew he was capable of, or alternatively the great warrior made no attempt to resist him. He stared at him, but the eyes would not meet his. They would not... and finally he understood as the fire smothered, and the heat left him feeling numb.

"No… No, this can't be! I won't believe it! Not of you!" he refused it. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. It couldn't...

"What you believe, won't change it, I'm afraid." came the deep voice softly, and he shattered. It was true... gods be good, it was true. He turned as he released him, fighting the urge to scream as he ran shaking hands through his hair, and he heard the tall mass slide down onto a chair.

"No! Why?" he demanded again as he turned, still not wanting to believe it. They'd only just come back, how could this happen? Perhaps if they'd come sooner... But Falgon looked up at him with a strange smile, that was part amused and part baffled.

"You're asking me that?" he put forth, and for a moment Berin could see the humour in that, albeit small.

"Fuck, yes. You had to be completely fucking stupid not to." he conceded in a breath as he glanced around, noting that the room had stopped spinning. And yet, it did not lessen the shock.

"You would have had me refuse her?" Falgon asked him softly, and he looked back at him, utterly confused.

"Did she... You're saying she wanted you to?" Berin asked, desperately attempting to make sense of this dismal fortune as he watched his friend rest his head on a great palm. But that too, seemed nothing less than unbelievable. She would never... Her truest love was her husband. She would never...

"No… I don't understand, how-" he started, but then Falgon looked up at him again.

"It's difficult to explain... She didn't know it was me." he tried, but even now he struggled with the words. Struggled with what happened as Berin stared at him. That was impossible. She must have known. She must have...

"What?" there was no sense in any of it, despite his best attempts to find it. Then Falgon sat back.

"I offered her a cup of tea with Nightshade essence, and she fell asleep next to me. What happened... She recalls it as a dream, and in that dream, she saw me as her husband." he continued, and Berin fell silent. No... No... Fuck, no... But he could deny it as much as he liked, it would not be changed. Such things were considered a great atrocity among the high-born, and if this was discovered, he would be sentenced to death, regardless of his position. He could only imagine what his holiness, the High Sparrow would think; and thanked every entity that their reach did not extend here.

"You have to go." he suddenly decided, but the dark eyes stared at him in utter daze.

"And what would that seem like, Berin? A sentinel, suddenly vanishing? Everything I care about is here, I won't go." he threw back defiant, but he couldn't see any other way.

"You have to get away from here." Berin urged him, but his eyes turned hard and relentless.

"I won't leave her!" he refused again, his loyalty to her would not be questioned under any circumstances. Not even this. But Berin glared at him, frustrated for his insolence.

"How much do you want to risk?" his place? His freedom? His life?

"Everything! I'll risk everything." he replied immediately, without any hesitation.

"You're completely mad! If this is discovered, you'll be hanged or beheaded as a traitor. This will be branded as treason!" Berin tried to reason with him. Perhaps if he understood the consequences of this... He couldn't watch his friend be killed. He was fearless in the face of danger, and nothing but victorious whether it be single combat or war, all would agree. But this... this was something different entirely. Without noble blood, he would not be allowed to defend himself in any kind of trial, if there ever was one. But then he registered the face anew, knowing nothing would change him.

"I know." he said, and Berin approached him.

"Falgon, you'll be killed." he tried a softer way, but he looked up, a calmness in his striking eyes.

"I deserve it. I deserve to be killed... I... I have wounded her..." he said, and took a deep breath.

"Falgon..." Berin started, but suddenly lacked for words. There was nothing more that he could say, nothing that would convince him.

"I don't fear death. I'm not afraid of anything that could happen to me. But what it could do to her... Berin, if she remembers that she accepted a man into her bed that was not her husband, it will tear her apart." he looked down again, and there was nothing but sorrow.

"I don't... want her to remember..." he whispered, and Berin glanced towards the doors.

"Fuck... Who else knows?" he asked.

"No one. But even no one has ways of spreading words." Falgon said, and then looked up again.

"I love her, Berin. I love her... All of these years, I have denied it. But, I love her." he confessed, and of every truth there was between the sun and sea, that was the clearest. Berin lay a hand on his shoulder.

"I know." he always had, since the week they first met.

"We should go." he suggested, and Falgon glanced away from him.

"Just give me some time, I'll be al right." and Berin sighed.

"Very well. I'll try to keep the others off your back for a while, but try not to stay aloof for too long." Berin suggested, and Falgon nodded.

"I won't." he promised, and Berin spared one moment longer with him, wishing he could offer some kind of comfort while he remained oblivious of the soft footsteps rushing down the hall and away from them. She'd come looking for Berin to ask him something. Something now completely forgotten as she ran, desperately trying to smother the sobs behind a hand clenched tightly over her mouth. No... No, this can't be... It can't... It's not true...

Claira stood alone, staring out of their chamber window over the seas. Laurene helped her dress in her black and blue silk gown with the golden leaves, and brushed, braided and pinned her hair back before leaving. She had taken her bath this morning since it seemed she had completely forgotten the night before. But something, was strange. Very strange. She woke to a deep ache to her low abdomen feeling exhausted and sore, raising herself from the soft mattress she wondered for a moment why her entire body was stiff and prone to hurt from her neck down to her knees before dismissing it for an oncoming illness for which she would ask their maester's advice and an aid. She found the black and gold dress she'd been wearing the day before discarded and crumpled on the floor next to the bed, but couldn't recall undressing... and during a warm bath to ease the ache, she found herself in need of a girdle. It wasn't much, but enough to leave her uncomfortable. She hadn't bloomed in years, not since the illness had taken her. It was so strange... Why now? After all these many years... A soft knock drew her attention and she looked back.

"Enter." the door slowly edged open, and Milla's face appeared.

"Good morning, my lady." she greeted, and her friend smiled.

"Good morning, Milla." she returned as she faced her.

"I trust you slept better?" Milla asked as she closed the door behind her and approached.

"Yes, thank you." Claira replied rather happily, and Milla's heart slightly lightened. It's not true... gods be good, it's not true... then she looked down, noting something held in Claira's hand.

"What's this?" she asked curiously, and she brought up the woven leather band lying in the palm of her scarred hand.

"It's Falgon's armband. I found it in my bed this morning…" she told, evidently subtly puzzled on how it seemed to get there herself. But for half a heartbeat, Milla's seemed to stop. No... No, it can't be... It can't...

"You were exhausted, Claira. He lay you down and left, he probably lost it then." she quickly said, unaware if that explanation was even remotely true but hoping that it was close at least, but watched the lady stare at the leather in her hand, the previous thought seeming to have passed.

"It broke… I should fix it, and return it to him…" she marked, for a moment focused on the threads where they were torn before feeling gentle fingers on her elbow.

"Is something wrong?" she looked up, into her friend's light green eyes.

"No... Nothing is wrong..." she assured, and Milla gave her a gentle smile, veiling the unease that boiled through her veins.

"Claira, do you remember anything from last night?" she asked softly, and she thought for a moment longer, trying to recall. There was little that she did, really.

"The last thing I do, is that Falgon picked me up. And then..." again her eyes met the light green looking back, only just hiding the concern. But she smiled brightly. She was happy.

"I had a dream Milla. I dreamed that Raeghun was home, he was with me. He... He made love to me again. He made me feel like never before... It felt so real, like he was truly here..." she laughed, so wishing that the dream could last.

"That..." Milla started, then returned the happy smile before moving forward, wrapping her arms around Claira and holding her tightly.

"That sounds like a wonderful dream, Claira. But that's all it was... A dream. It will fade, in time." she said softly, and Claira's arms wound around her waist, returning the pressure she lacked the day before and holding her friend dearly.

"I... I don't want to forget..." she whispered, the laughter replaced with soft sobs. But Milla held her, soothing her tattered soul as best she could until she seemed to calm before drawing back, and examining her anew. There was something more.

"That's not all, is it?" she asked softly as the lady wiped away an escaped tear, and forcing another whimper of laughter.

"It's so odd... I don't know why, but... after all these years..." she looked up, still puzzled for it.

"I'm blooming..." she revealed, and Milla drew her closer again, praying for something but she wasn't exactly sure for what.

"Don't worry, it will be al right." she comforted, and after another long moment they made their way down to join the hold, and resume their day after paying the maester a quick visit. They settled into the southern hall, which Bella and her companions had wonderfully prepared with bright flowers on each table and the feast ware in sets of silver and ivory, showing that she was clearly as refined as her mother. They broke their fast on berry loaves, boiled eggs, flamed pork sausage, sweet grain and thick cream with honey, and fresh fruit pieces with tea; after which Berin and Vaellion departed to attend to inspections of the castle barracks, its resources and rounds while the ladies returned to the weirwood fountain to pray. Claira thanked the old ones for their mercy and protection, and again beseeched them to return her husband and son safely to her, and then continued to attend her court matters with Milla ever watchful at her side while the girls resumed their studies; and only with noon her Battle Master rejoined them, seeming no different than he'd been in the days before. Yet, the lady of the hold found it something relieving that he took the time to rest from his constant vigils, now that lord Berin had returned to help; and despite his insistence to return to her side where he belonged, she ordered him to take the rest of the day to himself as well, and to join the Trentins in their ventures when they familiarized themselves with their members and routines yet again, while after three years quite a bit had changed. Late that afternoon, after all pending matters were heard, while the youngsters visited the village to meet the new faces and appreciate the new additions, the ladies spent their time in the common room in the sun tower with Wymon keeping his watch at the doorway while Milla shared more stories from across the borders where they'd been for near to three years, whom they met and what they did, what happened to them, and the birth of Carissa's last child, a girl they chose to name Theldry. But Claira, was mostly silent, focusing on the leather band in her hand as she mended the broken strands with black thread. It would be obvious, and far from perfect, but it would hold at least.

"Claira?" she looked up at Milla, staring at her. I haven't done that in years...

"I'm sorry. What was it?" she asked, and Milla sat back.

"Are you sure you're al right? You're very quiet." she said, her clear green eyes drinking in every feature.

"I'm fine, Milla. A bit tender because of the bloom I'm sure, but nothing else." she assured, but her friend did not seem convinced. Then she sat back, allowing her court maiden some more attention.

"I'm sorry for being so reserved, it's just that..." she glanced away, at the blue of the sky outside.

"I've had to learn how to deal with many things, and silence seemed like the best way to do it, at some point. That's how I moved forward, until now." she said softly, not really knowing how else to explain it. So much had happened, but in all honesty, she just didn't have much to say. Then she smiled lightly, looking back at her friend.

"But at the very least, your return yesterday was a great surprise to me." she added.

"I hope a good one, though." Milla returned the gesture, and Claira sighed.

"Very good, my friend." she agreed, and then Milla's eyes went back to the work in her hands.

"The... The dream you had... The one from last night..." she started softly, trailing off like she didn't know how to continue as Claira stared at her. She seemed quite taken with the dream, despite having told her that, that was all it was. A dream.

"It was a wonderful dream, Milla. It made me happier than I've been in months, because my husband was with me. He was home again..." she breathed, and saw her friend sigh but with a softer, easier smile.

"I am happy for you, of course. And we all miss him, Claira. Every day we hope and pray that he comes home." she said, trying to hide her thoughts as best she could. She truly remembered nothing. Nothing of what happened...

"He will come home. Even if it takes him a hundred years. He promised me he would." She insisted, and Milla smiled.

"Of course he will." she agreed, and then looked at the figures entering the common room. Bella held an item in her hands, and the others discussed their visit to the village as they took their places to join the ladies. Bella smiled as she looked up from paging through a small leather bound book, worn and faded with age.

"Look at what I found!" she said happily as she came over, displaying the tome. The pages were wrought in scribbles and strange drawings.

"I bought it at the herbalist's shop." she said as she sat down, indicating a page with a spherical rune.

"That's interesting." Milla stared at the picture, wondering if she'd seen it before. Perhaps on the maester's pieces of history and lore. But the script was near to undecipherable. There were more runes, strange triangles, circles, arrows, swirls and some she couldn't quite make out.

"What would the herbalist do with a book like this?" came the thought as she paged through, and then saw the movement of a shadow.

"May I?" she looked up at Claira, holding her hand out for the book.

"Certainly." she handed it to her, and watched her looking through the book as well.

"He said that some old man left it there a while ago, he hasn't come back for it." Bella mentioned as Claira scanned the contents of the book. The notes weren't just cryptic, it was foreign. Then she paused a long moment, staring at a page that displayed a key. A key she had seen before, but where? A ring, with a long shaft and five bit lines...

"I thought, maybe maester Adlyn could help me." Bella said, and Claira looked up.

"You should take it to him, sweetling. I'm sure he'd find it fascinating." she urged, handing the book back to her.

"Anything else interesting happen in the village?" Milla asked, and Bella laughed.

"We met Berry and Joldewin, they're very friendly. They begged us to perform in our hall again, but I had to turn them down." she told and looked at Claira.

"Our lady has to give permission, first." she hinted while Claira laughed.

"They haven't been here in a fortnight, but I suppose we could welcome them again." she said, returning her attention to the band in front of her.

"If you do see them, you may invite them for an evening of your choice." she allowed and Bella laughed happily.

"Thank you, aunt Claira." they continued their activities until twilight when Laurene came with a lively Ricket on her hip to announce that their evening banquet will be served shortly, and made their way down to the southern hall where all of their members gathered, and their family settled at the high table, as the day before. They supped on thick mushroom soup and a hearty veal stew with rolls of bread, followed by a baked plum dessert and custard alongside goblets of good brown ale and sweet wine and press. Their conversations remained light and blithe, exchanging their activities of the day and gossip from beyond the walls while in his secrecy, Berin continued to examine the Lady and her Battle Master. She appeared to be happy and at ease, not troubled by much but a confessed discomfort and the known loneliness. He, as always in his place, was calm and more responsive than he'd been this morning. If the event still tormented him, he managed to hide it rather well. But for her sake, he would have to... I love her, Berin... I love her... those words were the only visible remnants that remained, little more than a flicker behind the dark eyes each time they settled on her. Like the sparks of a forge when the hammer met the heated steel of a new sword. And yet, he'd heard no whispers so the tall sentinel's increasing presence in the lord's hall was something largely overlooked by most, since he'd held his vigil there more than once and gave his counsel on a number of nights regarding strategical matters. No doubt, no one else would believe something like this either, for which he found himself grateful. Everyone knew him, who he was and what his purpose was. It was well known that he'd never been interested in anyone, so why would he be now?

"Any news from Rychon? When is he coming back?" Bella suddenly asked enthusiastically, and Claira looked up at her.

"Oh, I haven't heard anything from him in a little while. But I'm sure he's just fine, and should come home soon." she assured, seeing the girl smile. Everyone missed him, and the day he returned to Mount Ardor will be the brightest there's been in a hundred years. But at the very least she knew where he was, and that he was kept safe. The evening continued on until the order was given for the hall to be cleared, and those who remained started making their way to their chambers. On the third level, where they would under normal circumstances part ways, Milla's hands quickly slipped around Claira's arm as she looked up at Falgon, ever at her side.

"I will see our lady up, ser. You should go get some rest." she told, hoping she was able to hide the emotion in her voice well enough as he stared at her. But then held back a sigh of relief when he smiled and nodded.

"As you bid, my lady." then he looked at Claira, and bowed.

"Sleep well, your grace." he greeted, and she returned the smile.

"Good night, Falgon." he turned, bid the others a fair evening as well and then left down the stairs to the barracks as Milla watched him. Why does this feel so wrong..? Then she looked at Berin.

"Go ahead, I won't be long." she promised, and he continued down the passage along with Vaellion and the girls to their rooms while Milla escorted Claira up to the lord's wing, and the thoughts came and went in a whirl.

"You can let me go now..." the voice brought her back, and she released her friend's arm. Perhaps she'd been holding on too tightly.

"I'm sorry." she softly muttered, returning her eyes to the stones in front of them.

"Are you al right? You've been acting a bit queer, today." Claira asked, and she forced a smile.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's been a queer day, after all." she indicated her friend's stomach, and she laughed.

"I'm sure it's just something small. The herbs maester Adlyn gave me should help." she brushed it off, and Milla nodded.

"Yes. That, and a warm bath and a good night's sleep." she added, to the lady's agreement. They paused in front of the great doors where Milla took Claira's hand a final time.

"Good night. If you need anything, just ask." she told, and Claira nodded.

"And you Milla. Thank you for your help today." she said, and then opened the door.

"A pleasure, as always." she watched as the lady of the hold entered the lord's wing alone before closing the door, and after a long stare at the door trying to listen to the soft footsteps moving away, she returned the way back down the way she came, still mulling over everything. She'd changed, a lot. She was cold and hard and distant, and it was terrifying. But maybe they could set things right now that they were back. Somehow she found herself standing against the closed door of their chamber in the east wing, watching her husband where he sat on the bed loosening the threads of his tunic, and grappling for something to say to him, something that would bring her some direction in this place she now felt utterly lost in.

"How was your day?" she finally decided, and he looked up at her.

"Same as always. Yours?" he asked, and she glanced down, searching for a word. It wasn't a good day, it wasn't a bad day, it wasn't entirely strange... it was just, not right?

"It was... out of place." she breathed, and he sat back as his hands lowered and he watched her.

"Is something troubling you?" he asked as she slowly came forward.

"I hope not…" she sat down next to him, slowly and carefully as if she were afraid. But he waited as she searched for her words.

"I heard you and Falgon talking this morning…" she told softly, but as luck would have it the words seemed too loud here, like they clung to the walls. A long silence followed, and then she looked up to see him staring at her, his deep green eyes focused in the pale face.

"How much did you hear?" he asked warily, and she breathed in.

"Enough… Is it true?" she didn't know why she asked, there was really no point. Falgon would never lie, but he nodded through a heavy sigh.

"If you heard, how many others would have as well?" he suddenly asked,

"There was no one else in the passage." she quickly replied, and he pressed a hand over his mouth.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, watching him, like she could see the thoughts flashing through his mind.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do. He'll be killed." he breathed, and she sat slightly back. It was a dismal thought, and ten years ago she would never have imagined placing the life of a mercenary above the honour of this house. But if she couldn't remember...

"Perhaps if the lady sent him-" she started, but he suddenly laughed. A hollow, bitter laugh.

"He would sooner face the deepest of the hells before he abandoned her." he silenced her, if there had been a hundred hells, he would face all of them before leaving her side.

"We are the only ones that know." she said, looking at the space in front of her. There was still hope, but was this something they could bear only in the deepest part of their awareness until their final days?

"How long before more do? It won't remain hidden forever." he cautioned, knowing that as sure as the sun rising in the east and the moon in the night sky for all to see, the truth could not stay dark for long. Then he looked at her.

"Has she said anything to you? Does she remember anything at all?" he asked, and she shook her head. Nothing she had said gave the slightest indication that she recalled anything beyond the moment he took her from the seat. Then, it was only the vivid dream.

"No, she believed it to be a dream." she told, and then took his hand as she decided on a course.

"Then it stays a dream." she concluded, softly squeezing his fingers.

"Milla…" he started.

"We never speak of it. Dreams fade, with time." she told him, but again he smiled. An emotionless visage.

"If it truly was a dream yes. She will remember, eventually. And fate has a fondness for her cruel japes against humanity." he cautioned, and her cheeks slightly paled as she stared at him.

"Do you mean?" he sighed again, running a hand through his dark hair.

"How believable would it be, to conceive from a dream?" he'd heard about that once or twice, these miracle children sent by the gods. And wondered if those women experienced a similar event, at some point.

"Berin, Claira cannot conceive again." she reminded him, and he sighed. Lost and hopeless, the uncertainty of their future something daunting.

"We've seen miracles before, within these very walls." he cautioned in return. Raeghun had regained the full use of his leg when they thought he might not. Claira conceived when they accepted she would not. She woke up when they thought she would not. Then he noticed her, the face behind the hand over her mouth near to completely drained of blood.

"The gods be good, Berin…" she whispered, too shocked for the words to have any sound. After fourteen years, she bloomed again.

"I don't know what to do… And it won't matter in the end…" he muttered,

"How could we let this happen?" she mumbled, and again he bit back a laugh.

"It wasn't our fault. It wasn't their fault. It was just... a really shit thing that happened." but then turned towards her, again taking her hands in his.

"No one can know. We have to protect them, Milla. Both of them." he implored. This had to remain a secret, dark and dire as it was. And now, it was theirs to bear to their graves.

"Keep an eye on her, and I'll do the same for him." he advised, and she nodded.

"I will. As best I can." she agreed.

Another morning came to the burning mountain when Claira emerged from the lord's wing to find her sentinel awaiting her at the door, like countless before that. And she smiled at him.

"Falgon." he looked down, and returned her kind gesture.

"Good morning, your grace." he greeted, and her hand came up.

"I believe this belongs to you." she revealed the mended leather band lying in her hand, and he stared at it a long moment. Perhaps he had forgotten about it again.

"Thank you, your grace." he rose his hand to take it from her, but she stepped around him and drew the heavy brown cloak back from his shoulder, bringing the band around his arm and tying it securely at the back.

"Such a precious thing, don't lose it again." she advised as she looked up to see him watching her.

"I won't." he promised as she brought her hands away from him.

"I'm sorry." he suddenly said, and she paused for a moment, looking at him.

"For what?" she asked, and he turned towards her.

"That I can't do more for you. That I can't be more." he said softly, but she smiled.

"My dear Falgon. You are my sword and shield and stone. My strength and my solace. Right now, that is all I need." she said smiling, and he bowed his head, then footsteps drew their attention to see Milla making her way swiftly up the incline.

"Good morning. I'm so sorry I'm late." she said quickly, and Claira turned towards her.

"No need to worry, Milla. We were just on our way down." she calmed, and saw the face light up slightly.

"Oh, good. Bella has a suggestion for this evening's serving, if you'd care to hear it?" Milla told as they started their way down together.

"I'd love to." Claira agreed, and so their day continued into weeks, and months while the Trentins pursued their careful watch of the lady of Mount Ardor and her Battle Master. Claira's bloom stayed for three days before vanishing as it did before, in time something she cast off as a simple oddity, and life proceeded as it otherwise would. Vigils were amended, and counsels restricted to the Hollow, allowing for all members to be present to offer their advice, leaving their evenings for calmness. Bella, Stephanie, Beatrice and Samantha had become entirely indivisible, always together in whatever they did. They saw to the ladies routines together, and to the halls. They studied together, went for walks, improved their music, embroidery, singing, dancing and read together. Fearful Stephanie, even started to smile. She had fine writing, and finished her work well ahead of the others on most occasions. But she always retained her soft temperament, and continued to be wary of the men, avoiding them whenever it was possible. And while Bella occasionally shortened her companions names to 'Bea' and 'Sam', the gentlest and most timid remained 'Sweet Stephanie'. One cool, overcast morning a young man arrived, requesting an audience with the castle's master at arms, fervently requesting to join the castle guard. He told that his name was Devan Locke, whom had heard the wondrous tales of the great keep, its people and their success. With an amount of persuasion, ser Austinus was obliged to accept him into their ranks and set him in with other youngsters. The annual Revelry followed, eagerly attended by Bella and her company, Vaellion, Wymon and numerous other members of the hold while Claira, Falgon, Berin and Milla stayed behind. A fortnight later they returned, sharing all the legends that were told under the stars. Stories of long past kings and heroes, beautiful maidens and treacherous hags, great battles and feasts, long summers and short winters. Tales of love and honour and trust, fables of trials and struggles and misfortune. And their greatest prediction, the rise of the great phoenix and all seemed right with the world. Sometime later, an apparent attraction surfaced between Bella and the young new recruit, and she started spending more time with him. Some days they were seen walking together through the gardens where he would present to her a bright flower or a sweet song, and those who heard it would agree he had a good voice for a guard. Other days they would be seen leaving the grounds on horseback for a ride or simply a short visit to the village together, and once in a while she would exchange her seat at the high table to sit at his side for supper. He was kind enough, but would display aggression during training, and a fair degree of brazenness whenever reprimanded, which deserved a good deal of concern from both master Austinus and Berin, however his temperament vaporized when addressed by the Battle Master. On the odd occasion he would be found sneaking through the east wing, and once made it as far as Bella's chamber before being caught, necessitating a sentry posted at the noble chambers, after which the intrusions ceased for a time. On a cool day, while the ladies were in Claira's common room, continuing their embroidery with soft discussions and her Battle Master's gentle lute, she regarded young Stephanie who had still remained little more than silent. But it was unsettling that she could not grow to trust anyone completely, save for Bella. And she hoped she may comfort her, and show her that here she had nothing to fear.

"Lady Milla, you may meet with Jeody and ensure that our hall is sufficiently prepared for this evening." she told, and Milla stood.

"Yes, my lady." she agreed, looking at the youngsters.

"You are welcome to come along." she hinted, and Bella nodded.

"Of course, mother." everyone stood, but as Stephanie lay her hoop down Claira smiled at her.

"Stephanie, would you care to stay with me?" she asked, and the clear brown eyes met hers with a nervous stare.

"As... as you wish... my lady..." she retook her seat, and Falgon looked up from his space next to the wall.

"Shall I leave you, your grace?" he asked politely, and her eyes met his.

"No, ser. You may stay." she allowed, and he glanced at the youngster. Although she tried very hard to remain composed, his presence alone terrified her.

"Stephanie." her attention went to the lady, pulling a yellow thread through the fabric.

"Y... Yes, my lady?" then Claira looked up at her again.

"Are you happy here?" she asked calmly, and Stephanie nodded.

"Very... Very much, my lady." she assured, her voice just a slight quiver.

"You are a northerner, like me?" Claira asked, and that seemed to bring a smile to her.

"Yes, my lady. From... once from White Harbour." she confirmed, hers was a small lesser vassal of the north, rarely heard of. Then the girl glanced at Falgon again, still against the wall where he'd been.

"Are you an only daughter?" Claira asked.

"No... my lady. I... I have two older brothers... and an older sister..." she told.

"You've been with lord and lady Trentin for a while, as Bella's companion." Claira continued, bringing the girl's attention back to her.

"Y... yes, my lady. Almost... sixteen months..." she told.

"She's very fond of you." Claira said, recalling Bella's closeness to the gentlest of her friends.

"She... she's been... very kind to me..." Stephanie breathed, sounding almost like a sob, and again she glanced at the sentinel against the wall. Their conversation continued for a little while longer, and her answers were polite if yet restrained, and her attention would endlessly dart between the Lady and her Battle Master, like he was a hungry cat watching her, and she expected him to capture her if given a chance. And she hoped, she may ease her heart.

"Sweet Stephanie, I won't ask what your circumstances were before you joined our family. But, if you would believe me, I want you to know you have nothing to fear from my people." she softly told, and then looked at Falgon as Stephanie stared at her.

"Ser Falgon." he looked up.

"Your grace?" his deep voice seemed to startle the girl, and her attention went to him.

"What is the penalty for a threat on any lady of the burning mountain?" Claira asked him, and he smiled.

"Death, your grace." he replied easily, and Claira's hand softly closed over the girl's.

"I cannot tell you how many times that man has sacrificed himself to save me, and my kin." then she looked back at the girl.

"That is what you are here, Stephanie. You are one of my ladies, and you will always be protected in my home, by our sentinels." she assured, and finally she truly smiled.

"Thank you, lady Claira." then she looked down at the cold hand, laying gently on hers.

"It... It was my brother. And his friends..." she suddenly said, and then took a deep breath.

"It started with simple things. Teasing and the like..." she continued, and Claira listened.

"It became worse, as I became older... They... they would scare me... They would humiliate me... They would beat me... They did things that were not expected from noble men..." she took a moment to regain control of her emotions.

"Sometimes... he would make them stop if I started to cry..." she told, and claimed another breath.

"And... one night... he didn't..." she whimpered, and Claira's hand tightened on hers.

"I'm sorry, child. I'm so sorry. It will be al right." she tried to soothe the stricken girl, recalling how enraged she'd been for Laurene.

"No one believed me... But for old Sandwyck. He... he promised he'd get me out." she further told, as she sat back.

"He dressed me in old rags, and we left in the dead of night heading north. Some days later, I... I started..." she glanced at Falgon again, but Claira gently rubbed her hand.

"It's al right." she told, and Stephanie looked back at her.

"An old lady found us on the road, and... she helped me. She was a herbalist. We stayed with her for a couple of days until I... until I felt better." she told, and then sighed.

"We continued up north, and finally reached Citrine Arch more than a fortnight later. They took us in." she explained, and Claira felt for her.

"Have you ever told anyone else?" she asked, and the girl shook her head.

"No. I... I'd rather no one knew. They'd think me... foul." she said, and Claira nodded.

"It wasn't your fault. Never think it is." Claira eased, and she smiled regardless of a tear on her cheek.

"Thank you..." she breathed, and then Claira stood holding her hand.

"Come. Let's join the others." she suggested, and Stephanie took her hand as she stood.

"Yes, my lady." she agreed, and they proceeded down to the southern hall with the Battle Master following. Night settled over the world, and the hold supped on seared trout with greens and pumpkin cakes. They shared stories, and hopes and dreams; and everyone seemed happy including Sweet Stephanie, for whom Claira was relieved she could give some comfort. The evening was pleasant with the warm company of family and companions, but the silence would only last so long; until word came from Bristlemane Stronghold before noon the next day.

"Are you sure about this?" Berin asked the old man who braved a storm and dangerous roads to come to call upon him, one of his father's men who remained at the keep.

"Mostly sure, milord. The usurper to your father's seat is sickly, and his sons are gone." he assured, and Berin could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. He meant to take back that hold, he promised he would, and now was his best opportunity. He needed to get back before the old puss died and others came grappling for land. He had to leave in the morning.

"Thank you for taking this risk, Gedro." the old man smiled.

"My life would be well spent, if I could see a Trentin hold that stronghold again, milord." he smiled broadly, praised by a powerful hand to his shoulder before Berin turned and headed back to the castle to discuss this probability with their counsel, and with noon all were assembled in the Hollow where again the lady of the hold was seated at the head of the table with her Battle Master at her side, master Austinus and maester Adlyn, Wymon, Milla and their children.

"How trustworthy is your source?" Claira asked, and Berin smiled.

"Very. He was castellan to my father, watching over the keep in my mother's service before Vega took over the hold." he explained.

"This is very sudden, Berin." Milla interjected softly, and he looked at her.

"He's near sixty years old, it's improbable that he would have taken the journey on a whim." he put forth.

"But he served Geerd in their stead for years." master Austinus argued.

"People do things to get by, and it could not have been easy for him. But he remained loyal to my own family, in spite of his circumstances." Berin again told.

"Bristlemane is yours by blood right. I say, if you have the chance to reclaim it, then do so." Wymon agreed.

"Reclaiming Bristlemane would grant us the benefit of better eyes close to our southern border." Falgon suggested.

"But it might also be the first to fall should we suffer an invasion." maester Adlyn added.

"Not if its defences are strengthened, and the soldiers are given the same training as is done here." Berin told, and the debate continued on.

"Bristlemane is your ancestral seat, Berin." Claira's voice suddenly silenced them, and for a moment they waited for her response. She seemed indifferent, and he couldn't predict if her conclusion would be good or bad for him.

"You will have the men you need. Take it back, as you promised you would. You owe it to your fathers, and to your sons." she ordered, and for an instant he felt he was drifting. To be fair, he didn't think she would just let him leave.

"Thank you, my lady." he smiled, and she sat back.

"Make your arrangements, I should imagine you have limited days." she allowed and he stood.

"Yes, my lady." all left the Hollow, and he floated down the incline on his way to the barracks to start preparations and assemble men for the venture. Then he heard someone call his name, and he turned back to see Falgon behind him.

"Am I to accompany you, to retake Bristlemane, my lord?" he asked, but Berin smiled.

"No, I..." he stared at their tallest for a moment. He could be honest with him, they were friends. They were brothers.

"I want the chance to do it on my own. That was my family's home, after all. You should stay here to guard the lady, as always." he told, and Falgon gave him a strange look.

"Should?" then he laughed.

"You are lady Taugere's Battle Master. You don't follow my orders any more." he hinted, but the look remained a moment longer.

"I am a Sentinel of Flame, Berin. I will always be a Sentinel." he reminded him, and Berin stepped closer to put a hand to his shoulder.

"You are. But, you've never really needed me to tell you what to do, anyway." he said, reflecting that over the years he had always been their most solid. He knew his place, knew what his purpose was and what was expected from him. He always had. And even that night, didn't matter now. Then Falgon smiled.

"As you wish." then he turned and continued on his way, entering the Hall of Fire he suddenly felt a hand wrap around his elbow.

"Berin." he looked back at Milla, standing behind him.

"Is this really the right thing to do?" she asked and he turned back.

"If I don't do this now, I don't know if there will be another chance." he told as she stared at him, bringing back a memory.

"You once told me, that you didn't care about Bristlemane any more." she reminded him, and he sighed. He remembered that, he said it more than once.

"Things are different now." he said, watching as she glanced away, searching for her words.

"Berin..." he took her hands in his.

"I grew up here, this is my home and that will never change. But, if my children could hold a keep of their own, don't you think I would want that for them? A better life, than what I had?" he asked, and she gave him a stern look.

"There's nothing wrong with our lives." she scoffed, but then saw him smile at her.

"No, there isn't. But I still want it better." he concluded, and she sighed. The whims of men were a strange thing. One day they would insist on something, and the next things were completely different. It seemed a difficult thing for them, to adhere to a course.

"I don't want to leave here again." she said softly, and he squeezed her fingers.

"As you wish. But I take the children with me." he decided, and then continued on his way to see to the necessary preparations. Vaellion was excited for another adventure while Bella seemed hesitant at first; but with permission for her dear companions to stay with her, a count of one hundred and forty men assembled to retake the castle, and young Devan among them, she was pleased to join them. It would be good practice for the young ones, after all. They were competent enough to hold a castle, but as far as taking one, they had yet to be tested. After another night that was restless and filled with more deliberations, the chosen party mounted their steeds after gathering to break their fast, and Berin stood with Milla at the base of the steps while Vaellion mounted.

"How long will you be gone?" Milla asked, and he shrugged.

"I don't know, it depends. But it won't be as long as when we went up North, I promise." he replied, and she slowly nodded.

"We will return to you." he promised happily, and she forced a smile.

"You always do." she breathed, then he kissed her and turned, making his way to his charger. Then she turned to Bella, coming down the steps dressed in comfortable riding leathers while her companions made their way to a waiting wagon after bidding their farewells to all in the castle.

"Good bye, mother. We'll see you again soon." she greeted, and they embraced.

"Be careful, and you girls stay together. Always keep your dagger close." Milla told her daughter.

"I will." she promised, and then moved off to join the others as her mother watched. I love you all... and then the long column passed through the gates south-east towards Bristlemane Stronghold, and it was the hardest thing to watch them go. Bella and Vaellion stayed at their father's side on horseback, while Devan continued his watch of the young maiden. It was certainly no easy thing when he was sent under orders of lord Bolton's son Ramsay to spy on Mount Ardor, whom had somehow convinced his father that it would be to their benefit to have eyes in the burning mountain. But he said nothing to him about the girl... More days turned into weeks that Milla tried to stay close to Claira, and in the evenings she would join her for a while in the lord's hall, and sometimes Falgon would sit with them as well for a time before returning to the guard's hall, and shortly after she would leave to an empty bed, in an empty wing that was far too quiet. For years she had never been alone, and there had always been someone with her, and now more than ever before she understood how Claira must have felt, so many times. One evening, after Falgon bid them a peaceful evening and departed the hall, and Claira had taken her bath, she and Milla shared the seats in front of the hearth while she enjoyed the infused apple press. She'd tried it another time or two with the tea, but it never seemed to work quite as well as it did that night. Milla looked up from her hands folded in her lap.

"Claira..." she started, wondering how to proceed as her friend's eyes met hers.

"I'd like to ask you something, if that's al right?" she breathed softly.

"Then ask." she allowed.

"I was hoping... Maybe, if... Perhaps I could..." she couldn't find the right words. Her friend had changed, perhaps she wouldn't.

"Take up in the lord's wing with me?" she asked, and Milla nodded, unsure of how she would respond.

"If you don't want to, I will understand." she added, but then looked up to see her smile.

"I haven't been the best company lately, but I don't mind. You can have the castle hands move your effects to the third chamber tomorrow." she agreed, and Milla breathed out relieved.

"Thank you, my lady." she said, watching as she drained the goblet and set it aside.

"Well then, good night, Milla. I will see you in the morning." she greeted and then stood, and made her way up to her chamber, while she sat a little bit longer watching the flames. She hadn't spoken of the dream again, and Falgon had said nothing beyond that morning with Berin; and she hoped it would fade, which it appeared to. But if she did not speak of it, it did not mean she didn't remember it. She would never forget it completely, she didn't want to forget. Would the gods forgive them for permitting her a happy memory, if it could mean staining her honour were it ever discovered? It was a hard thing, and not a light burden to bear. But so long as no word was breathed, it may remain submissive. And when Raeghun returned to her where he belonged, every dream will disappear for his reality. Then she stood, intending to surrender to her bed, but moments later found herself standing behind the chair in the guard's hall where he sat.

"Falgon..." he looked up.

"My lady?" she stepped tentatively forward, listening to the silence of the hall.

"That night..." she breathed out, and he knew that she was aware of it.

"I have no delusions about that night." he said softly, and true he had not grown conceited in the slightest. He had thus far avoided it altogether well.

"It was an accident. You shouldn't hate yourself for it." she tried to comfort him, although she wasn't exactly sure why. But then he looked up at her.

"If it was an accident... If it was a mistake... Should I not regret it?" he asked her, and she couldn't tell what she saw in his clear eyes. Hate and regret were not among them.

"You don't?" he shook his head.

"No. That 'dream' made her happy. That's all I've ever wanted." he told, and then looked away from her again, at the flames dancing in the hearth.

"Everything you would to tell me, I already know." he breathed in, a soft smile on his features.

"I know what she is, and what I'm not. I know that while she may care for me, she will never love me. I accept that. And yet, everything that I know does not change the truth that I love her... so I will continue to protect and obey her, until the end of my days." he said, and Milla smiled.

"After all that's happened, I just want her to be happy. And if that one thing has made her so, I will not condemn it, no matter the circumstances." she said, and he looked back at her.

"There is only one man in existence, that will ever truly make her happy. It will never be me..." he breathed, before feeling her hand on his shoulder.

"That may be so. But, when she was bereft of everything, you remained at her side. I won't pretend to know what it was like, but you were there. You endured everything with her." she mentioned, and he nodded.

"And I always will. Sleep well, lady Milla." he greeted, and with that she left for her own chamber for the night to wait out the days.

Late into the night, Rhegard sat in the library going through the reports. Their people stayed well within sight of the castle, and there'd been little or no disturbances since Stannis Baratheon's force had been defeated outside the walls of Winterfell. But the Boltons remained in control of the North. Once in a great while a ranging party would dwell into the mist, and pass by without so much as a notion. Those who did dare to come too close, never left the silence. The youngsters mostly remained within the castle, and when they did not they kept well within reach of it and never remained out for long unless he went with them; from time to time spending a few nights in the Wolfswood. Their only escape from the shroud that defended their home, and only when he deemed it safe enough to do so. They seemed happy enough, but his sister by law grew increasingly frustrated with the isolation he believed necessary to keep his people safe. Not too long ago, they received word that the Umbers of Last Hearth sided with the Boltons as well, and this further added to her frustration with him, for his continued resistance to swear loyalty to a new liege. The allegiance of other houses changed every so often, perhaps because they did not have the fortune that was here. Those of the Dreadfort were well famed, if you did not bend to them, they would break you in any instance. Some, merely did whatever would benefit them, whether it was honourable or not. Then a figure entered the library, the steps quick and firm, and he looked up to recognise Dyana.

"Rhegard, I must return to Last Hearth." she suddenly announced, but it seems that she'd been considering this for a while. The air around that castle was clear and expansive beyond any doubt. But, it was less protected. He sat back, staring at her.

"You're not an Umber any more. You're a Tormont. You've been a Tormont for almost sixteen years." he reminded her, and the commitment in her eyes stayed.

"I am an Umber! I will always be an Umber!" she told him firmly, and as always he knew he would not sway her. Like old lord Greatjon, she was spirited, proud and more than a little wilful. But at times, there was an anger in her that did not match theirs. Then he sighed.

"If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. But I have a condition." he said and then stood.

"The children stay with me." he set his terms, trying to remain unaffected by the hard stare.

"If you think I would abandon them here-" she started.

"You would not be abandoning them. You would relinquish them to me." he silenced her, and then rounded the table towards her.

"They are Tormonts, my brother's blood. His heirs. This is the only home they've ever known. Williame will hold Pale Haven once I am gone." he told, but her stare remained hard and resentful.

"Gerald would never have expected this of me." she threw at him, but he only stared back.

"I am not my brother." he said calmly, but then her scowl changed to a sardonic smile.

"You would have me remain a widow in this bitter cloud to the end of my days?" she challenged him, and it was a true thing. She was still young, still beautiful. She would be able to gain a good match, but it would not be here, not before them.

"I would have you remain loyal to your family. Which is more than I could say of your nephews, who knelt to the Boltons without a thought." A sudden raging burn flooded his left cheek when she struck him, but he didn't care.

"Like I said, if you wish to go, you are free to do so. But the children stay with me." he maintained again, watching her once lovely face change into a hateful glower.

"You're a vile man." she spat at him.

"Make your preparations and leave." he told her, and then she swept away nearly knocking over a young man as she fled through the door. He spared her a fleeting glance, and then approached the current lord of Pale Haven.

"Uncle Rhegard." then he looked up and smiled.

"Will." he received him, and the youngster sighed.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why my mother is always so mad." he apologised as Rhegard took a chalice off the table, and brought it to his lips.

"Oh, it's al right. I'm sure she has her reasons." he breathed, and then took a good swallow, feeling the throb ebb away.

"She struck you." Williame observed, and his hand came up, gingerly touching the red glow.

"It will fade." Rhegard assured, and then set the goblet down again.

"Your mother means to return to Last Hearth." he informed, and the boy scoffed.

"We're not meant to go with her, are we?" he asked, and Rhegard laughed.

"No. You will stay with me." he told, and the youngster seemed to brighten for just an instant.

"Oh, good. The only reason I'll ride through those gates is to meet a threat." he declared, and Rhegard's arm went around his shoulders.

"You're a good boy, Williame. Your father would be proud of you." he praised, and then thought a moment.

"Where are your brothers?" he asked, looking at the doorway.

"Asleep, I think." he said, and then recalled something in his hand.

"Maester Kenard asked that I give you this, I found him in the passage on my way down." he presented the scroll to his uncle, which he took and unrolled the parchment, scanning the words. Riverrun had been retaken by ser Brynden Tully, and holding their ground.

"Thank you. You should go to bed as well." he said, and Williame nodded before heading off. Keeping the children here would be safer, that was his greatest reason, but not the only one. He hoped that she would stay, but should Dyana decide to leave them, she would not reveal their location if it could mean a threat on them... Then the youngster's voice sounded softly in the hall.

"Good night, aunt Lyenne." he greeted, and she responded.

"Good night, sweet Williame." then she appeared around the corner, and he smiled. She approached him, her auburn locks hanging down the length of her back and her storm grey eyes examining him.

"You work too hard, do you know that?" she teased him, and he laughed wrapping his arms around her.

"I have to make something of myself, don't I?" he said pulling back, and she took his face, the palm of her right hand soothing on his cheek as she kissed him.

"You're doing well, Rhegard." she breathed, and he sighed.

"This wasn't meant for me. My brothers were the leaders, not me." he told modestly and she stared at him.

"You are trying your best. That must be good enough." she said and then lay her head against his chest.

"They haven't heard anything, yet?" she asked and he sighed.

"No. I don't know if he's even still on this continent, why else would there be such a silence?" he wondered. He had a sister in Pentos, but what were the odds that he would just turn up there? And why then, wouldn't he have come back long ago?

"But Claira believes he's alive. She believes Raeghun will come home to her." he said, as much as he could when the doubt did not threaten to submerge him, he believed it too.

"Your sister is so strong. I can't imagine what she's going through." Lyenne whispered, her arms tightening around his shoulders, and he returned the embrace, running his hand over her back. She is... and she's finally discovered it... he smiled.

"It takes a lot, to do what she's doing now. But she's not alone, she has help." he soothed, and then it didn't sound so hard. Then she looked up with her easy smile.

"And you don't. So, come to bed. You can't hold a castle if you're exhausted." she hinted, and he laughed.

"As you bid, my lady." he took the chalice from the table, drained the contents and set it down before following her to their chambers.