"There's no letter from Lord Robb today my lady," Maester Luwin said quietly, glancing up at Daenerys as she approached him in the Great Hall. Every morning, midday and evening, Lady Daenerys would inquire if there were any letters from Robb. It was what any lady wife would do, but it was Daenerys's concerned looks that worried Luwin.
Anxiety did not suit a pregnant woman and the last thing Winterfell needed at the moment was a hysterical and pregnant woman. If not for the risks, I would've prescribed her a sleeping drought, thought Luwin as Daenerys continued to linger nearby, her thin, white fingers curling and uncurling nervously. "You should rest, my lady," Luwin advised, shuffling to the Great Hall's doors. "You are carrying an heir to Winterfell. Lord Robb will not be pleased if you lose your child."
"Oh, of course the child," said Daenerys crossly. "Is that all that everyone ever thinks about now? The child?"
"I am only concerned for your wellbeing and that of your child's, my lady."
Daenerys smiled. "You have always worried over me – over all of us, Maester. I am forever grateful for that."
"I am only doing my duty, my lady."
"As Robb is doing his."
Daenerys was silent for a moment. "Do you disapprove my marriage to Robb?" she asked suddenly.
Maester Luwin looked at her, startled by the question. Daenerys Stark had not shown any signs of regret when it came to her marriage…up to now. "It is not my place to approve or disapprove," he said carefully. "When you were a child, you'd once asked me if I am here to heal, or to advise the Lord of Winterfell."
"I don't remember that, Maester."
"You were a child, my lady. I will tell you now what I told you then: I look after the castle ravens, I heal and treat the wounded and sick and I advise anyone if it's my opinions and thoughts that is sought after."
"Am I not asking you for your advice, Maester?"
You are asking for my view on your marriage. "Not everyone is pleased," Luwin said diplomatically, "but there will always be some who are delighted. Not all the lords would have been pleased if Robb had married Princess Lyanna. A couple of them would be asking themselves, 'why couldn't Robb Stark wed my daughter or my sister?'. Whoever Robb marries will always earn one lord's displeasure. If you do not mind me speaking bluntly my lady, should you not have gotten over your worries about your marriage by now?"
"How can I?" said Daenerys bitterly, "when my marriage's always mentioned – by Lyanna Mormont of all people! – with malice?"
"Northerners never forget," murmured Luwin, more to himself than to her. "It is something I have oft heard here."
Daenerys sighed gloomily. "I suppose I will go and lie down for an hour or two. If a letter from Robb does arrive, you will tell me will you not?" Luwin nodded. "I will the moment it comes," he promised. "Get some rest, my lady." As he began to head to the schoolroom, he kept a close eye on Daenerys. Good. She was walking back to her chambers. She needs company, Luwin thought as he shuffled towards the schoolroom. Proper company. There was the Lady Alys Karstark, but for some reason, Daenerys did not seem keen to befriend her. Surely even a desperate lady would not be so…selective about her companions?
Luwin could not help but chuckle as he heard loud voices arguing from inside the Winterfell schoolroom. A noisy and sound debate in the morning was always a good sign. He remembered when the older boys and girls were still in the midst of their educational years – what arguments there were! Theon would always be insistent on dramatising the Ironborn view and exaggerating Ironborn victories; Jon Snow would usually be quieter but when it came to defending Northern pride, he would speak up. There were all once here, Luwin reflected as his old and bony fingers curled around the doorknob. I had taught all of them – did I fail as a tutor in educating them? He pushed open the door.
As of the last six months, Luwin had four pupils: Gwenysse, Arthur and Rickon and Lyanna Mormont. Today, Jojen and Meera Reed had joined them. They were also engaged in a fierce argument against Lyanna Mormont.
"…and using darts is an act of cowardice!" the Mormont girl was declaring, her arms folded in front of her chest.
"It most certainly is not," said Meera, looking offended. "While you go charging onto the field with a sword in hand, you risk dying just as much as your foe. With poisoned darts, you can kill your enemies from safe places such as behind a vast cluster of reeds or atop a tree. While you lead your men to their deaths, at least a few of mine will be alive."
"What can you possibly learn from poisoned darts?"
"Precision," responded Jojen, his green eyes fixed on Lyanna Mormont's. "How to make the poison. There are different types of poisons of course. Would you go stabbing sentries to death? At least with poisons, there is the chance of drugging them to sleep with darts. It is always good to capture prisoners too."
"Did you not have this discussion two days ago?" said Luwin, setting his pile of papers onto his table at the head of the schoolroom.
"We did Maester," said Jojen quietly, "but it seems Lady Lyanna here is quite a firm believer that poison is not as effective as a sword."
"Can I not have my own view on a matter?" said Lady Lyanna grumpily.
"You may," Luwin assured her, "but you do not need to defend that view every time someone opposes it. What if it is the king who opposes your view? Will you be obliged to argue with him?"
"You think it is better to remain silent and agree?"
Luwin smiled at her. Youth oft came with recklessness; age was accompanied by patience. "Would you not be happier alive than dead for treason, my lady?" He looked at the Reed siblings. "Will you two partake in today's lesson? Lady Lyanna, Gwenysse and Arthur will be revising their noble Houses. Rickon will be studying his numbers today." He watched Meera and Jojen glance at each other.
Jojen shrugged. "Why not? I admit, it has been a while since I studied the noble Houses of Westeros and their sigils and words."
"Very well." Luwin gestured for him and Meera to sit down as he unrolled the massive map that the children had filled out and corrected yesterday. Usually the maps he drew up were smaller, but this time when he drew out the map, he'd left enough room for the children to also write the House words and the sigils. It was a collaborative task – Luwin thought it would greatly benefit the children's skills at communication and cooperation.
Meera leant forward and studied the map. "House Rain?" she questioned.
"House Reyne," Arthur corrected her. "It's a noble House in the Westerlands. A red upright lion with a forked tail and with gold teeth and claws on a silver field," he added as if reciting it from a lesson, which he did. Luwin nodded. It seems that Arthur needs to work on his letters now, he pondered. The penultimate Stark child enjoyed learning about the noble Houses; when it came to letters, Arthur's bright eyes would dim and his enthusiasm would melt away.
No, that wouldn't do at all.
Lord and Lady Stark would both be terribly disappointed when they return to discover Arthur unable to spell simple words correctly.
"Today you will write down the sigils and house words," Luwin instructed, "as many of them as you can. As all of you will be working on it together, I expect the map to be mostly filled by the end of the hour. Rickon, you and I will continue the sheet of numbers we worked on yesterday."
"I want to look at map too!" Rickon declared. "No numbers!"
"Another time," said Luwin patiently. He suppressed a wince as he slowly sat down next to a pouting Rickon. His bones were getting sorer these days when he walked around Winterfell, completing his usual duties. Perhaps I'm in need of an assistant. Would it be wise to hint the idea to Lord Stark? He remembered an old maester friend from long ago who had died some time ago, a Maester Cressen. He, Maester Cressen, had been a number of years older than Luwin and served as the maester of Storm's End for the majority of his long life. In the last few years of his life, he'd been assisted by a much younger maester who was now the maester of Storm's End. Dismissing the thoughts of having an assistant from his mind Luwin rapped the table with his quill. "Do you remember your numbers?"
Rickon frowned. "One, two, three, four," he said, counting his fingers, "five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten!" He grinned triumphantly.
"Very good," Luwin praised. A three year old child was a little young to begin a nobleman's education, but Lord Stark had insisted for his elder children to start a little earlier so Luwin continued with the rest of his progeny. "Now, do you recall how to write those numbers?"
"I practised last night," Rickon said defensively.
"Good. You must keep practising. Write the numbers thrice each Rickon. We'll then move onto other problems involving numbers."
After watching Rickon slowly and laboriously scrawl (more like draw) two of the numbers, Luwin turned his attention to the others. Thankfully there wasn't a huge outbreak of arguments between them, though they were not all working on the map as collaboratively as Luwin hoped. Gwenysse was working on the part of Dorne and the Crownlands by herself in silence; Lady Lyanna and Arthur had, as a pair, claimed the majority of the North and the Vale; and the Reeds were adding excess information to the crannogmen area. No one seemed to have attempted to fill in information for the Iron Islands, the Reach, the Riverlands and Stormlands and the Westerlands as of yet. Luwin said nothing as he continued watching all of them work. They still had plenty of time.
"…my sister said she mated with a bear once," Lady Lyanna was saying.
"A bear?" said Arthur, intrigued.
"Lady Lyanna," Luwin spoke. Everyone looked at him, some startled. "I do not think that is an appropriate topic of conversation," Luwin admonished. "If silence is a source of irritation for you, you may talk on subjects relating to the work that I have assigned you."
"Yes Maester," Arthur and Lady Lyanna chanted together.
"What is there to talk about regarding sigils and words?" Arthur complained.
"You are the Stark in Winterfell," said Luwin thoughtfully. "Do you know what Winter is Coming means?"
"The oncoming winter," said Arthur promptly.
"That is one reason, Arthur," Luwin acceded. Now all the children – Arthur, the Reeds, Gwenysse, Lady Lyanna and Rickon – were listening to him, interested. "It is also words of warning and constant vigilance for the coming of winter. Here in the North, winter strikes us hardest and first. Winter always comes, and it won't always be gentle. All the winters in the past were short; the oncoming winter will be long and bitter. Winter's not even oncoming," he corrected himself.. "It's a few steps away from Winterfell's doorstep."
"A warning…" repeated Arthur attentively. "Do winters come unexpectedly?"
"It did before maesters learnt how to monitor the seasons. Sometimes autumn would last only a few months before winter sets in. Do any of you know who one of House Stark's Kings in the North ruled for the shortest period of time?"
"King Edwyn Stark?" guessed Gwenysse.
Luwin nodded. "Edwyn the Spring King, he was called. He wasn't born during spring time, mind you. He was given the appellation 'the Spring King' because his reign lasted from the first days of spring till the day before summer. According to one of my predecessors who had written a book about the Kings in the North, the Spring King's reign lasted for four months. His father's rule only surpassed his by another two months." He smiled, knowing he captured his students' attention. "I suspect you are all familiar with why the direwolf is House Stark's sigil?"
"The wolves have packs," said Arthur promptly. "Father said that Starks never abandon each other – especially in winter."
"We all have to work hard together too," added Gwenysse, her Stark grey eyes unusually expressionless, "in preparation for winter."
Luwin's smile widened. "See? There is plenty to discuss regarding House sigils and words. Didn't we just have an interesting conversation?"
Arthur brightened. "We can tell stories about the noble Houses! Old Nan used to tell us the best stories!"
Old Nan. Luwin's smile faded. When was the last time he went to see the lady? He had given her medicine a number of times, but had not seen her in quite some time. She apparently used to be a serving woman in her youth and then she came to nurse a Brandon Stark at Winterfell. Afterwards due to her advancing age, she remained at Winterfell and was more or less a storyteller to the Stark children. In the last six months, she lost the strength to knit and tell stories and rarely left her bed. It wouldn't be long now before she-
"I finished!" Rickon announced.
Leaving the older children talking quietly to each other, Luwin looked over at Rickon's numbers. "Better," Luwin acknowledged. "Much better Rickon." He then pointed at a few numbers that were drawn backwards. "Why don't you try those numbers again? Look at my numbers, and then look at yours."
"My three is the same as yours." Rickon pointed to his number three which he had drawn backwards. Luwin placed another piece of parchment on the table. He had prepared it earlier for Rickon. "Trace the numbers," Luwin told Rickon, "and then try and write the numbers again."
Rickon nodded slowly. "Yes Maester."
"Good. Keep working, Rickon." He watched Rickon obediently pick up his quill again and unhurriedly trace the numbers. Usually Rickon would be impulsive but not when it came to his lessons, unless it was escaping them. He is quite like Arya, Luwin reflected. Bright and clever in their favoured subjects but sullen and keen to be disruptive in areas that are foreign to them. For Arya, her bane was sewing; for Rickon, it seemed to be anything to do with the schoolroom.
"Maester," spoke Lady Lyanna. "What is the tale behind my House's sigil?"
"Surely you'd know," Arthur said cheekily.
"Arthur," said Luwin warningly. He looked at Lady Lyanna Mormont. "There're a number of different versions," he said carefully. "Was there a bedtime tale that, ah, your lady mother told you about the Mormont bear?"
"I usually fall asleep listening to Alysane and Dacey's hunting stories."
The most popular version of the Mormont bear tale that Luwin knew was also a slightly…inappropriate tale for a young lady's ears. It was said that the founder of House Mormont was the bastard daughter of an Umber named Mors and some say, a wildling woman. That woman was said to have mated with a bear and gave birth to a litter of skinchangers. According to what a previous maester had jotted down on a scrap of parchment, many men liked to jest that every Mormont was a bastard child of a man – or a Mormont woman – and a bear.
Luwin began, "It was said-" but broke off when the door banged open and one of the younger household guards ran in, his eyes coloured with fright. Luwin rose and frowned. "Lucan?"
"Word from Jullon!" the panting household guard managed to say. "An army is approaching! An army Maester!"
"How was an army not seen any earlier?" While Luwin's tone remained a little calm, his heart was pounding twice as fast. "From which direction?" If only Lord Umber was here! What a time for Lord Umber to be scouting the Wolfswood with some of his men! "Which sigil?" Luwin said more quietly, yet more alert.
"Jullon said there were no banners, Maester. No sigils."
Luwin's blood turned cold. No banners? No sigils? Was it a bandit army? There hadn't been a bandit army for…for decades. It would make more sense if it was a lord's army if the lord decided not to bring banners with him. He didn't have time to think of the most likely to rebel lords – there were too many. The only Houses that aren't against House Stark seemed to be Houses Mormont, Bolton, Manderly (perhaps), Cerwyn, Flint and hopefully Umber. What if it is Lord Umber that is the one responsible? For all we know, he could be ordering his men to attack right this very moment? Luwin dismissed the thought almost as swiftly as he thought about it a mere second ago. Lord Umber would fight alongside his men and a household guard would notice him at once. If that wasn't all, Lord Umber would always fight under the fluttering banners of his House – a roaring and brown-haired giant on a flame red field, wearing a skin with broken chains. Besides, most of the Lord of Last Hearth's men were on his lands defending their homes from wildlings.
"Maester?"
"We must prepare for a siege," said Luwin, glancing at the children who were whispering excitedly to each other – well, Lady Lyanna and Arthur were. "To my knowledge, we do not have enough men to send out to battle the oncoming army. Preparing for siege will be best. All we can do is wait for Robb to return with his men." Only yesterday, the steward had inspected the food stores with him and it was still well-stocked for winter. Was it enough to last a siege and winter? Luwin feared the answer. Sieges could last weeks, months and even years. The Starks of old had laid siege to the Dreadfort for two years – and were victorious. Even with the food stores well-stocked now, there was no guarantee that the army soon to arrive at Winterfell's doorstep would freeze to death or die of starvation waiting for the Winterfell household to surrender.
"What about Robb?" questioned Gwenysse.
Sending a raven would probably be impossible…but there was always a small chance Robb would receive a raven.
"We should have half a dozen sentries and archers on the battlements at once, if not more," Lady Lyanna Mormont was saying importantly, her eyes glistening with excitement for probably the first time since her arrival at Winterfell. "Many people say that archery is weak compared to swords, but archers are essential in sieges. Archery is important in hunting meat too."
"Theon is our best archer," said Arthur tentatively. "He's not here though…"
"Winterfell has other fine archers," said Maester Luwin, more to himself than to Lady Lyanna and Arthur. He shuffled in front of the children and said calmly. "I am only saying this for your own safety: please remain inside the castle walls. I'm aware that this is your first siege and it might be…exciting, but it'll be dangerous, very dangerous, even for you take a stroll in the courtyard. Do you understand?"
All the children nodded, Lady Lyanna a little more reluctantly. "Keep working," said Maester Luwin, slowly trundling to the door. "I will come and check it soon. I will have a servant bring you your afternoon meal in about half an hour. If you're in need to leave the schoolroom, ask one of the guards here to accompany you. It applies to you too, Lady Lyanna," he added.
Lady Lyanna nodded obediently.
If only Lord Umber's here, thought Luwin, as he headed to his turret. I hope one of the household guards informed Ser Rodrik. Hopefully he agrees that a siege is for the best in this situation. Winterfell had no castellan; Ser Rodrik, Lord Umber and Luwin worked together to fill in the castellan's duties. In circumstances like this, Luwin wished Lord Stark had appointed a castellan. Even though Robb Stark was the acting lord, it wasn't the same as having a strong castellan experienced in the matters of defence. Ser Rodrik was the closest to a trusted castellan.
"Maester!"
Luwin's fingers froze in the direction of the maester turret door. He glanced at Lady Alys Karstark who had ran up to him, gasping for breath.
"What is it my lady?" said Luwin, maintaining patience.
"Lady Daenerys!" said Lady Alys, clutching her hip. Knowing the Karstark lady, she was not the type like Arya to go running around Winterfell for fun. "She is in her chambers, Maester. Her water broke! I think she is about to give birth!"
In the previous chapter, I deliberately wrote the Baratheons a little out of character as they are still recovering from what happened to Cersei, Myrcella and Tommen. Even though the Baratheon children do not love their mother as we would love our parents today, they did love Myrcella and Tommen and it is still a shock for them that they were born of incest, not their true siblings and are dead. After a break, it does take time to get back into writing the characters properly - I apologise if they seem a little OOC at the moment. I'll try my best to make them in character again.
So...do you reckon Daenerys will have a child, twins, perhaps triplets (highly unlikely but still :D ) and would it/they be a girl or boy? :)
