After a morning of sewing and listening to idle gossip mostly chattered by the younger ladies, Catelyn finally put down her needle.

"I am going for a walk in the gardens," she announced, standing up. "You're all dismissed for today. Lady Leyla, walk with me." Alerie Hightower had retired to Highgarden after her son Garlan's marriage to Lady Leonette Fossoway, stating that she needed a rest from court. Even though Catelyn found her daughter Lady Margaery too alluring for her own good, she missed Alerie's company.

"It is a lovely day," chirped Margaery, folding away her embroidery and neatly tucking a wavy curl of brown hair behind her ear. "Do you mind if I accompany you and Lady Leyla in the gardens Your Grace?"

Yes. "Not at all." Catelyn smiled at the Tyrell girl. The two of them and Leyla made their way to the gardens. Catelyn's smile widened as she stepped outside and was showered with a shaft of sunlight. She loved summer. Catelyn detested the day a white raven would sit on the window ledge of Grand Maester Pycelle's chambers declaring the arrival of autumn. Springs and autumns were oft shorter compared to summers and winters. Catelyn shuddered. So far it had been a very lengthy summer…winter would be long too.

"Are you cold Your Grace?" inquired Margaery, watching her with a concerned expression. How long had she been watching? Catelyn wondered. She shook her head. "Not at all, Lady Margaery. Is that a new gown? I do not recall you wearing it before." She smiled thinly.

Margaery beamed and straightened her silky green dress embroidered with a dozen golden roses. Her brown hair was pulled back today, the majority of it tied in a braid that cascaded down her back. "It is never wise to wear the same gown twice at court," she answered.

Catelyn only smiled. On more than one occasion she had donned a few of the same dresses. She thought it was pointless to have gowns made only to be worn once. "My father plans to host a tourney at Highgarden," Margaery said casually. "I imagine he yearns for it to rival the tourney at Harrenhal. A pity Sansa had left for the Eyrie. She would love to attend a grand tourney."

"Perhaps she'll still attend your father's tourney," murmured Catelyn. Fifteen days had passed since Lysa and Sansa left for the Eyrie and she had not received a raven from them since. The last thing she heard from them was that they were resting in Runestone for a day or two under the hospitality of Bronze Yohn. Lysa is probably still in mourning, Catelyn thought. She may not have loved Jon Arryn, but he is the father of their children.

"Your Grace," said Leyla uncertainly. "This may be a strange request, but I beg your permission to allow me to leave court for a few weeks. My good-father is ill and I must be at his side – and my husband's."

"Of course." Catelyn nodded. "I wish I can be at my father's side too, but I am needed here at court." Family, Duty, Honour. The Tully words had echoed in her head more often these days. As her father's daughter she should be at Riverrun; as her husband's wife, she should remain at King's Landing.

"Your Grace, your father may wish to say his last words to you," said Margaery sweetly. "If mine father was on his sickbed, I would never leave Highgarden until he recovers…or otherwise."

Catelyn's lips tightened. The sooner the rose of Highgarden was wedded and bedded to Renly the better. She wished Robert never bestowed the lordship of Rainwood upon the Onion Knight. Davos Seaworth had already been rewarded with a knighthood – was that not enough for a smuggler? Rainwood had been the inheritance promised to Renly and that was robbed from him. The Tyrells would never wed their precious Margaery to a landless lord – even if he happened to be the brother of the king.

"Lady Margaery," she said, forcing herself to smile. "Can you please give me a moment alone with Lady Leyla?"

"As you wish Your Grace." Margaery bobbed a quick and graceful curtsey and disappeared behind the hedges. Catelyn waited a few minutes. "My father needs me at Riverrun," she whispered, a lump forming in her throat. "Edmure writes to me almost every day and he said our father is still bedridden and his mind…by the gods Leyla, his mind…"

"King Robert will understand," said Leyla softly. "You went to Edmure and my wedding without him. Surely he will understand the urgency of your presence in Riverrun at such a grave time like this. He is your husband after all." Robert was Robert first, a king second, a husband third and a father last. Stannis would no doubt have added Robert was a father fourth and a brother last. It used to break Catelyn's heart when she would visit the royal nursery alone and the children would ask, "Where is Papa?" As a loyal wife, she would lie for him on numerous occasions. Papa is busy ruling the Seven Kingdoms, she had said multiple times. Robert had been occupied with hunting or wenching to visit his own children. Catelyn hated lying to her children.

Catelyn nodded. "I will speak to Robert tonight. Lysa should know about this. I will write to her at once. She would hate hearing about Father's dire illness after he…if he does not make it."

"Will that be wise Catelyn? You said the last time you heard from Lady Arryn and Lady Lysa was when they rested at Runestone. We don't know where they are now! Lord Arryn may have trusted Lord Nestor, but we know nothing about him! What if your letter falls in enemy hands?"

Catelyn said dryly. "Enemy hands? We are not at war, Leyla."

"That is true, but what if someone like the Lannisters crave more prosperous lands and hear of Lord Tully's…ailment? I am worried for Edmure, Catelyn. He is sweet and kind, but when it comes to war…"

"The Lannisters will not attack the Riverlands. To do so will earn the wrath of Robert. He will not have his children's ancestral lands taken away from them. I must write to Lysa."

Leyla nodded solemnly. "The River lords do not like me," she confessed. "Last time I went to Riverrun with Edmure, they glared at me as if I was in some way responsible for Lord Hoster's illness. I swear on the Seven I did nothing to earn their animosity. I prayed for Lord Hoster's speedy recovery, I gave Edmure sons and daughters and I gave food to the poor."

"Do not concern yourself with it Leyla. Many of those lords wanted their own daughters to have wedded Edmure. Some may be offended that my father chose a lady of the Reach to marry Edmure rather than a lady of the Riverlands. If it is the Freys bothering you, ignore them. That is what my father always said. He told me that before he was betrothed to my mother Minisa Whent, Lord Walder Frey offered his eldest daughter Perriane – now married to Ser Leslyn Haigh – to be his bride instead.

"Father also mentioned that when Lysa and I were born, Lord Frey offered a dozen of his sons and grandsons as potential husbands for us. He stopped after my father declined twice. When Edmure was born…you should've seen the great number of Freys at Riverrun's doorstep everyday!"

"Lord Frey must desperately want a Tully good-son or good-daughter."

"He'll never get one." Catelyn patted Leyla's hand. "Don't fear. The River lords will warm to you eventually. I'm certain of it."


"Is something amiss, Uncle?" Catelyn noticed Uncle Brynden pace in front of the empty fireplace for the third time in the hour. "You normally do not pace as much as you did today."

Uncle Brynden stopped. "My apologies my queen."

"Are you thinking of Father?" Her uncle looked at her and sighed. "We were as close as you, Lysa and Edmure when we were boys. After the war…we quarrelled more than we laughed. The War of the Ninepenny Kings that is," he added before Catelyn could frown in confusion. "Even though we acted more like enemies than brothers, I am still worried about Hoster."

"We are family after all."

"Aye. I wonder if he still holds a grudge against me for refusing to marry and begin my own line of Tullys."

"You never told me why you refused to marry Bethany Redwyne."

The Blackfish stared at her, his eyes sad and reminiscent. "I had hoped you'd forget about it," he murmured.

"If you don't want to talk about it-" He shook his head. "No. The famous tale of my rejection of Bethany Redwyne will be remembered in the centuries to come by Tullys, Redwynes and Rowans alike. You might as well hear the bloody truth of the matter." He sat down on a chair opposite Catelyn. "You must know that all I wanted in my youth was to be a knight," began Uncle Brynden. "The last thing I thought about was taking a wife and becoming a father. I was a younger son and knew it was Hoster's duty to wed and conceive children to continue the Tully line. I didn't think I needed to as well. I thought life was quite good – peace, blooming friendships with other knights…then it all changed.

"Hoster came to me one night after I'd supped with Lord Darry whom I had squired for in my youth. He told me that Ser Mathis Redwyne, his wife Lady Alys Beesbury and their daughters will be visiting Riverrun in a few days' time. I wasn't fooled for a single second. I knew what Hoster was planning but I didn't think much of it." He gazed at the window. "I didn't think much of it at all.

"The day before the Redwynes were scheduled to arrive, I went on a hunting trip with a few Vances and Shawneys, hoping to avoid meeting the Redwynes. I had no desire to marry back then. I felt free as an unmarried man without duties and responsibilities. I had tasted freedom and longed to cling to it. Being tied to a wife and children was not what I wanted.

"Anyway, I went hunting but it was cut short when a stag rammed its antlers into Martyn Vance's chest, his blood spraying all over me and two Shawneys. We ended the hunt and went our separate ways home. Before I did, I journeyed to Wayfarer's Nest and returned Martyn's body his family. Shortly I left for home. I had forgotten all about the Redwynes. Imagine their looks of horror and shock as they saw me stomp into Riverrun, my clothes still speckled with Martyn Vance's blood." He chuckled. "I did not give them a promising first impression." Brynden laughed again. "Well, to Ser Mathis and Lady Alys that is. To their eldest daughter, I was a knight. Her knight." He quietened.

"What happened?" Catelyn said softly.

"She thought I was out defending the poor from bandits," said Uncle Brynden absently. "It was only later when I told her the whole truth. She believed me. The Redwynes ended up staying for a month rather than a week. Between me and her, my hunting adventure became some sort of private jape. When I told her I was to go hunting, I was in truth sent to deal with bandits or thieves. When I informed her that I had to save some smallfolk from outlaws, I went hunting. Of course the latter of the two was rarer."

"What did she look like?"

"Oh she was beautiful Catelyn. As beautiful as the Maiden herself. When she moves, her orange hair wavers like a flickering flame. Her eyes were as green as fresh grass in spring and she was fair…so fair. Over the days we spent together, I forgot all about my disdain for marriage and wanted nothing more than to marry her in the sight of the gods and live with her in a keep of my own.

"Hoster and the Redwynes were delighted. The point in their visit was to forge an alliance with House Tully after all. Hoster was mere months away from being married to your mother Minisa and I was the only Tully of Riverrun left. I didn't care for the pending Tully-Redwyne alliance – all I wanted was to marry the lady I loved. Nothing else mattered to me." He chortled. "It makes me sound like Lysa, but it was the truth of it back then."

The Blackfish suddenly darkened. "And then it ended. Merely a day before Hoster could ask Ser Mathis for his consent in my betrothal to his daughter, I was called to sort out a foolish dispute at the Twins. That day I was supposed to take Lady Alys and her daughters riding in the forest near Fairmarket; Hoster's future good-brother Walton Whent went with them in my stead." He clenched his fists. "I should never have went to the bloody Twins! If I hadn't…" He shook his head almost despairingly.

"Uncle Brynden?" prompted Catelyn.

"They were attacked by a band of drunken knights," muttered her uncle, his face white with fury. "I'll never forget them. The Redwyne ladies, Ser Walton and a few other knights were on their way back to Riverrun when they were…they were ambushed by the drunken knights. Ser Walton was killed first and the other Tully knights next. Lady Alys was raped – she would later die from the injuries those drunkards inflicted upon her – and so was her elder daughter. The younger one escaped with the help of a cowardly Tully knight. When I returned home, it was utter chaos. Those drunken knights were captured and hanged. I wanted all of them to suffer more but they didn't."

"What happened to Lady Alys's elder daughter?"

"She survived…but carried one of her rapists' child. No one but Hoster, Mathis and I knew about it and we agreed to keep it a secret. She almost died when she gave birth to a stillborn child. Mathis Redwyne thought it was for the best and to hide the shame, he made his daughter become a silent sister. A month afterwards, I received news of her death."

Catelyn placed her hand over his weathered one. "I'm sorry Uncle. You never saw her after she became a silent sister?"

Uncle Brynden shook his head. "I had no idea where she was. I don't think her father even knew where she went once she joined the order."

"What was her name?" Her uncle was silent. "Melissa," he said finally. "Melissa Redwyne. During our month of courtship I would call her Lissa – solely between us of course. Ser Mathis Redwyne often said she was not as beautiful as his niece Olenna which is quite odd, as he and his brother hardly got along."

Catelyn could not resist a tiny smile. "Like yourself and Father."

"Aye. Like myself and Hoster." He shuddered. "All our loud feuds and quarrels stemmed from what happened next. I still remember our first bitter argument as if it was yesterday. A few days after we heard of Melissa's death, Hoster went up to me and told me he will request Ser Mathis's younger daughter's hand for me. I would not have it and refused. I loved Melissa and I had sworn by the Seven that I would never marry. Hoster was furious. He shouted, 'why does it matter if you wed Melissa or Bethany? A Redwyne is a Redwyne!' I never forgave him for that. What was worse was that Bethany looked so much like Melissa I could not even look at her at supper."

"Bethany…Bethany had a sister?"

"Aye. Not many knew about Melissa. The Redwynes know how to keep their mouths shut when it suited them. If Melissa had lived, they would have sung of her beauty and goodness. She bore a bastard and was forgotten. I still wonder if Bethany remembers her elder sister. After what happened at the forest, I offered to marry Melissa immediately, but Hoster said no. I suspected even then, he had decided Bethany would be a better choice as a good-sister for himself as she was still 'pure' and 'untouched'."

Catelyn was silent. Poor Uncle Brynden…

"I should not have told you that," said Uncle Brynden gruffly. "You should not be burdened by tragic tales of the past. Your Grace, may I have permission to be relieved of my post as sworn shield? Only for a few hours. I'll have either Garth Greysteel or Ser Arys Oakheart replace me."

"Of course." Catelyn nodded instantly. "I understand how difficult it was for you to tell me about Melissa and Bethany. You should not be burdened with the duties of protecting me and Robert. You are a knight of the Kingsguard. You had sworn to defend the king, not me. I will ask Edmure to send me a few knights to be my sworn shields."

"No, do not bother Edmure. Not at this time."

Catelyn nodded. "I hope Father recovers," she said softly. "I cannot even hope to imagine what Riverrun will be like without him. If Grand Maester Pycelle was not so feeble and frail, I would have sent him to Riverrun to help Maester Vyman heal Father. Father had done so much for the realm. He does not deserve to be bedridden with a lingering illness."

"Aye. I will inform you if there is further news from Riverrun." He bowed his head. "I hope it is good news." He stood up, bowed and walked out the door, his white cloak swelling around him. Catelyn watched him leave, his story echoing in her head. The troubadours sing of him rejecting Bethany Redwyne when in truth he was in love with this Melissa Redwyne. At least her rapers were hanged. Lysa would not believe it if our uncle tells her it were knights who raped his first love. Lysa was a mother yet still loved her songs.

Desiring fresh air, Catelyn left her chambers the second time that day. She was tired of the stifling city and yearned to return to her childhood home. As Catelyn walked aimlessly through the labyrinth of corridors, her eyes sparked with fury as she came face to face with one of Robert's bastards.

"Your Grace." Edric Storm swept a graceful bow once he saw her. He looked up and smiled charmingly at her. Catelyn's lips tightened. Since the bastard could walk and talk, courtiers have often said he was the very image of his royal father – apart from the large Florent ears. Catelyn hated it. She had birthed Robert two trueborn sons who looked more like a Baratheon than the bastard Edric Storm would ever look. Her Orys and Ormund bore Baratheon names and had jet black hair and deep blue eyes. They both looked more Baratheon than Tully. The only Tully features Catelyn spotted on her sons were the high cheekbones she, Lysa and Edmure all inherited.

Bastard, Catelyn wanted to spit. "Edric," she said stiffly. Today the bastard was dressed in dark blue silks with shiny silver buttons running down his tunic and a black leather belt around his waist. "I heard you celebrated your eleventh name day a few days ago with Renly."

Edric's smile broadened. "Indeed Your Grace. My father gifted me with a small warhammer similar to his own. Uncle Renly showed me the spiked warhammer Father used to kill Rhaegar Targaryen. I hope one day when I am big enough, I'll be able to wield it."

If it wasn't for the honourable Jon Arryn, you would not even be here. "I think not," Catelyn said coldly. "When he is deemed ready, Orys will wield his father's great warhammer. If you're fortunate, you may inherit one of my husband's dirks, daggers or swords. He has many in the armoury."

"As you say Your Grace," said Edric Storm almost cheerfully. How in the Seven can a bastard be so happy? Catelyn nodded curtly and turned another corner, her head held high. To Catelyn's sheer dismay, she found herself walking alongside Robert's other bastard, the one he had begotten from some common wench in a tavern or alehouse. Catelyn disliked him more than Edric Storm.

"Where are you heading, bastard?" said Catelyn sharply. A commoner had no business wandering the corridors of the Red Keep unless he was a servant. The bastard jerked up, his blue eyes littered with panic.

"Y-your Grace!" he stammered, bowing clumsily. How could one not know his manners after being raised in King's Landing since childhood? Catelyn assumed it was the fault of his lowborn blood. "I…I am heading to the forge. I find solace there from time to time."

Of course, thought Catelyn savagely, you still love the forge. What did Uncle Brynden say? Oh yes, ever since he took that lowborn bastard to the forge, he fell in love with it. She had not bothered to remember his name with her father's illness and her uncle's sad story swarming in her thoughts. "We all have special places of solace," she said aloud. The bastard glanced at her, confusion written all over his face. Catelyn suppressed an aggravated sigh. Uncle Brynden did say that the bastard was often confused.


This was one of my favourite chapters to write! I hope you liked my version of why the Blackfish never married and his feud with Hoster :) Unfortunately I might not be uploading chapters as quick as I did before as I've been quite busy at uni lately and typing a chapter during tutorials wasn't as easy as it once was...