Honor & Fealty chapter 9
Upon his return from White Harbor, Willas was met by a furious Mace Tyrell and a silently upset Lady Olenna.
The only sources of moral support he had at his disposal were Ser Garlan Tyrell, his younger brother, and his mother, Lady Alerie Tyrell.
Before that tumultuous family reunion, he had received a more amiable reception upon his arrival at the Blackwater Bay. Lady Margaery, his little sister embraced him while his youngest brother, Loras, stood at a distance alongside the Lord of Storm's End, Renly of House Baratheon, though the look on the former's face seemed to be an omen to what would be waiting at Highgarden.
Only after being verbally dragged across the coals did Willas seek refuge in the godswood with several of his beloved hounds.
Unlike most of the smallfolk, septons, septas and nobility in Westeros, the hawks, horses and hounds in his care never judged him for anything he ever did. They loved him unconditionally and he loved them in turn.
"For the longest time, I thought you and Garlan had more sense than your father and Loras. It seems that even learned men who are possessed of good sense can be fools."
"You know my reasons, grandmother. Right or wrong, I refuse to apologize for them to either my father or even you." Willas said as he moved over so Lady Olenna could sit next to him.
"You have high marks for audacity and low marks for personal judgment."
Looking towards the three weirwood trees in the godswood, Willas gathered his thoughts and calmed himself before speaking. "It was disrespectful to lead House Stark on with a secret betrothal that would never happen. Out of respect to him and his family, Robb Stark deserved to hear it from a Tyrell rather than from some lowly messenger. It was happenstance that he was in White Harbor visiting House Manderly at the time of my arrival."
"There are messenger ravens and squires for a reason, Willas. It does not lower you as a man to use them." Olenna spoke calmly before asking, "How did the boy take to hearing the dismissal of his betrothal to Margaery?"
"Dry eyes, grandmother, though he did look disappointed. They never met each other so no connection was made between them."
"He seems to have inherited his lord father's lack of ambition." Olenna commented dryly before asking the most pertinent question on her mind. "Who gave you the foolish idea of sneaking away to White Harbor?" Olenna asked as Willas petted his hounds.
"No one. I was in need of a holiday from the Reach. Though I am the heir to Highgarden, I have as much authority as the smallfolk of the fields with their plows and pick axes."
"Your day will come. When it does, I pray that you will not act in the likeness of your father."
Willas held his grandmother's hand in his as he looked around at his surroundings. "I like it here in the godswood. It's much more open and much less restrictive than the sept. The air is soft and soothing. Most of all, I'm not forced to suffer any haughty, hypocritical, sanctimonious septons."
It did not go unnoticed by Olenna when she saw Willas looking at the weirwood trees as he said this. "Willas, have you lost your sense?"
"I am not my father and I will not have anyone mistake me for him. If I am to stand out on my own and show the realm that I am not Mace or Luthor Tyrell, this is how I shall do it."
"I may not have much stock in religion but the smallfolk will paint you as a heretic for abandoning the Seven to embrace the Old Gods as your own."
"Most of them whisper familiar names behind my back as it is. The smallfolk will whisper about anything and everything. What difference would this make?"
"If they find that you have chosen to embrace the faith held by the brutish Northmen and forsake the Seven, you will lose favor with them."
"I never went looking for anyone's favor or pity. That has not changed." Willas said as he took up his cane and walked away, his hound padding along at his side.
In the Small Sept of Winterfell, Brynden stood patiently as he waited for Catelyn to get the first word in.
"Have you gone to see him?" Catelyn asked. "Father would have spoken to you. At the very least, he would have listened to you."
"That old man is stubborn as the day is long. As for him hearing one thing I have to say, he'd have to be on his deathbed for that to happen." Brynden said roughly.
"Why did you refuse to marry? Why would you turn your back on your brother's wishes?"
"It was a choice I made. Even if I did grow to love Lady Redwyne, there would always be that one other thing in my life."
"What is it?" Catelyn asked.
"I was trained to be a knight. When I was given my knighthood, it was in a time when knighthood meant more than prestige, pageantry and popularity. I fought alongside men who became living legends in their own time while laying to rest some who have seen few winters. Good or bad, those memories and experiences made me stronger and wiser than what I would have become if I kept to Hoster's wishes. I would not give back one moment of those events in my life. Not even if your father, my brother, demanded it himself."
Catelyn grimaced. "What is wrong, sweetling?" Brynden asked.
"Arya and Bran seem to have inherited your adventurous spirit. Ned would never profess it but there are times I see him look at Arya with pride and fear at the same time. No matter how many times I tell him not to, Bran can not seem to stop climbing the ramparts of Winterfell."
"It sounds like they are children with minds of their own. From what I could tell, Bran might have inherited my spirit but I think Arya inherited the spirit of another." Brynden said as he knelt down and held Catelyn's hands in his calloused, scarred and aged hands. "What troubles you so?"
"Arya and Bran have both asked to be fostered with House Mormont on Bear Island."
"Why would that bother you so much? It's practically a hop, skip and stone's throw away from Winterfell. You'll know where they are every moment of the day. Most of all, I know Lady Maege Mormont well enough. She can be the toughest commander in the realm when she needs to be and a mother bear when she wants to be."
"You approve of this?" Catelyn asked incredulously.
"Arya and Bran must learn that choices and actions have consequences. You may mean well but it will require someone other than you or their father to teach them this difficult lesson. I can think of few better than Maege Mormont to do it. She has five daughters and raised them all to become warrior women. She will not be soft on them but Lady Mormont would not let anything or anyone harm them."
Though Catelyn saw the logic in her uncle's words, she also knew that meant Arya was more Stark than Tully. "I am not Lady Maege Mormont. I never wanted my children to be like hers. I wanted Arya to be a proper lady. She keeps fighting me at every turn."
Standing up to look at her, Brynden spoke directly to his niece. "Have you ever thought of what she wants to be?"
Upon seeing the whites in Catelyn's eyes, Brynden continued.
"Hoster tried to turn me into a Lord of some keep with a lady wife, castellans, maesters, septs and smallfolk as well as a pack of children he could call his nephews and nieces. None of that happened. Instead, I chose my own path and became a legend in my own right. Perhaps not so grand as Ser Barristan the Bold but well enough that there's not a soldier or squire out there who would not bow his head to me out of respect."
In that moment, Brynden realized what Howland Reed's words meant.
Catelyn was truly Hoster Tully's daughter; she was demanding and equally stubborn.
"You can not force your children into something they do not want or to be something they are not. If you continue down that path, all you will succeed at is pushing them away. What then? Will you call Arya and Bran the Rebel Wolf Pups?" Brynden asked.
Catelyn could not bring herself to speak after hearing what her uncle was telling her.
"I spoke to Lady Dacey Mormont while on the Kingsroad. Ned Stark has charged her with training, tutoring and guiding Robb Stark into being a proper lord. Is that true?"
Catelyn nodded. "It seems the wolf values the word of a bear more than those of a trout."
"Whether you care to admit it or not, Robb is a Stark. He may have been born in Riverrun, he may have inherited the Tully coloring but even I can tell that he is more wolf than trout. He is a Northerner just as Sansa, Arya, Bran and little Rickon are. In the respect, House Mormont knows it and you are refusing to accept it."
For a long time, Catelyn knew all this to be true but chose to deny it. Hearing such things from her uncle Brynden only made it more evident.
That did not make the truth any less bitter on her tongue as she spoke it at long last.
"None of my children are Tullys. They never were or ever will be."
"That may turn out to be a blessing for them." Turning towards the alter, Brynden prayed for the strength to keep his mouth shut on the big secrets he kept behind his tongue.
He was almost at the door when Catelyn said, "Do you think it's right?"
"With Arya and Bran being fostered on Bear Island or Dacey Mormont making a man out of Robb Stark?"
"Both."
Ser Brynden the Blackfish turned to face Catelyn and smiled. "In my life, I have fought many battles and stood by great soldiers. Lady Mormont was the only woman I could stand with on the battlefield, knowing that she could hold her own and keep me alive. If I can trust her with my life, trust her daughters with the lives of your children."
The Rivermen may have their ponds, creeks, streams and little rivers. As far as she was concerned, the Southrons could keep them.
Lyra Mormont had the Bay of Ice and that was enough for her. After her daily chores, combat training and studies, she was given leisure time, which was rare for her even in times when Bear Island was not being raided by wildlings or the Ironborn.
A year ago, she started swimming in the cold waters. She never stopped since that time.
Though she enjoyed the exhilaration of swimming in the cold waters, Lyra longed for the day when Jon Snow would work up the nerve and join her.
Ever since the first day she met him years ago, Lyra took an immediate interest in Jon Snow in spite of how Lady Stark always seemed to give him the cold shoulder.
Lyra was only one year older than him and Robb Stark. As they grew up, her feelings for Jon changed from friendly to more than friendly.
Thinking of Jon made her blood run hot. Upon returning to her boat, Lyra rose out from the depths, wrapped her body in her bear cloak, laid herself down and began fondling herself while fantasizing about Jon swimming out in the Bay of Ice to take her maidenhead. The more she felt her own hands across her body, the more she wanted it to be Jon's hands on her.
Lyra was almost about to finish herself off when an arrow fell from the sky and embedded itself right at the helm of her boat.
Jorelle's archery was improving with every day.
Upon completion, Lyra unbound the parchment tied to the arrow and read the contents.
The moment her boat was docked on the eastern shores of Bear Island, Lyra was met by her younger sister, Jorelle Mormont astride her palfrey. "How did you know I was out here?" Lyra asked. Jorelle smiled at her older sister. "Alysane told me you were out here while I was playing with Sarea. Did you at least bother to put on smallclothes before going out for a swim?" Jorelle asked.
Lyra smiled at her sister before opening her cloak in response. "They would have weighed me down, Jory." Lyra replied with a smile, using the nickname she and her sisters had for Jorelle, who shook her head in amazement at Lyra's liberal abandon when it came to swimming.
"Have you thought about who might be out there?" Jorelle asked as she got off her horse so Lyra could get on.
"I have thought about that. Then I remember." Lyra said as she mounted the horse and took Jorelle onto the rear of the saddle.
"What exactly do you remember, Lyra?" Jorelle asked.
"The Starks rule the North. I could walk naked through the Wolfswood to Winterfell without being bothered, threatened or harmed in any way. Even the beasts of the Wolfswood would leave me be because we are sworn to House Stark."
"I'm sure you would strike Jon Snow blind if he were to see you walking to Winterfell wearing only a smile on your face." Jorelle said.
"Or I'd make his cock so hard that he could dig a tunnel through the Wall with it." Lyra said with a laugh. Jorelle blushed at her sister's humor.
"Try to be properly dressed when we go to Winterfell, Lyra. Lady Stark may not find your japes as funny as I do." Jorelle said as they rode off to Mormont Keep.
Brynden spent the day watching the activities undertaken by the Stark children.
He was impressed by Arya and Bran's archery. No doubt they have little Lyanna Mormont to thank for that. The bond between the youngest Mormont girl and Arya was endearing as was her proximity to Bran. While their unity seemed to make them better, Brynden could see how they could be impulsive.
Sansa proved to be a proper lady in her poise and stance. She was well learned and equally well spoken but Brynden saw that she would not be able to handle those who would try and deceive her. Sansa showed him her knowledge of history and customs within the realm and several of the many found across the Narrow Sea in the Free Cities of Essos. He might have to watch over her if she ever found herself south of the Neck.
Rickon was still a child and yet watched his older siblings attentively whenever he wasn't playing with his toys or with his direwolf, Shaggydog. He was young and impressionable. Brynden found himself hoping that Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Jon Snow would help to give him the right impression.
Most of all, Robb Stark was becoming a true Stark in battlefield tactics, strategy and combat. He and his bastard brother were almost inseparable and they made each other better. The one problems Brynden saw in Robb Stark and Jon Snow were their tempers and emotions.
It was not lost to Brynden how different Robb and Jon behaved when they were with Lady Dacey Mormont as opposed to Rodrick Cassel. Cassel commanded them to be grown men. Dacey Mormont inspired them to be grown men. Though it was not made clear as day, Dacey had more strength in her body than anyone could ever expect.
Brynden knew a truth of the Mormont women that no one else did. It was the reason he entrusted Maege Mormont with his life many times whenever they were on the battlefield.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Ser Wendel of House Manderly asked as he sat across from Hoster Tully. The second son of Lord Wyman Manderly had ventured south with a small cavalcade of twenty soldiers and several wagons to deliver all kinds of exotic silks, herbs and scents that came from Essos to Riverrun. He even brought along his thirteen year old niece, Wylla. What he did not know was that Lord Hoster of House Tully had requested for Ser Wendel for a clandestine purpose. The delivery of merchandise from Essos to Riverrun by way of White Harbor was a pleasant bonus.
Instead of going the short way, which would involve being chiseled by House Frey, they went the long way around via the Kingsroad and the River Road.
Though Hoster welcomed them with a pleasant feast and his finest wine, there was a look in his eye that did not pair well with the painted smile. Only when the young knight and the old lord were alone did everything become clear.
"It's not what I want that matters anymore. It's what the Riverlands need in the days to come." Hoster somehow trusted the second son of Lord Wyman Manderly enough to hand him the scroll unsealed. Looking at the contents, Ser Wendel almost could not believe what he was reading.
"What are your wishes in regard to this amendment, Lord Tully?"
"Take it to Winterfell postehaste. It's contents must not be known until the proper time."
"It shall be done as you have instructed, Lord Hoster."
"May the Gods preserve you and speed you on your way, Ser Wendel of House Manderly."
A/n: I think it's fair to say that the plot has begun to thicken drastically. Don't you?