Honor & Fealty chapter 24
A/n: I'm back! One of the biggest worries I had (among many others) was that this chapter did not have enough material. Another was the length. I thought it was too short and then I thought it was too long. With any luck, this chapter is well worth the wait. Thank you for your patience and understanding. I still have a long way to go. For now, enjoy the latest chapter of Honor & Fealty.
As the Stark traveling party approached the northern keep of the Twins, they were met with an ostentatious and overtly lavish display of wealth and indulgence. The smells of baked breads, rich wines, cheeses, meats, fish and poultry from the Stormlands filled the air as did the scent of vegetables and fruits from the Reach. Elaborate tents and grand banners flying the stag of Baratheon and the golden rose of Tyrell flew in the wind at both sides of the entrance to the Northern keep of the Twins. Handmaidens, cupbearers, squires, bards, servants and jesters were scattered about as they went about doing their chores. At a distance from the lords and ladies, who were watching knights spar against one another in a public display of their martial prowess, a table was set where the smallfolk ate what was offered to them as token of goodwill and charity.
"Does this happen in the South often?" Dacey asked the Blackfish as she eyed the activity unwinding before her eyes. Robb did not have to voice his opinion; Dacey could tell it was the same as hers from the look on his face. The wealthy were rich in gold and insatiable in their vanity and self-elation.
"When a certain house is close knit to the Iron Throne, it is not uncommon for them to flaunt what they have." Ser Brynden grumbled. He was not much for pomp and ceremony when it was for vanity's sake.
"Brace yourself, Lady Mormont. We are about to get a whole lot of smoke blown up our backsides by complete strangers." Willas Tyrell knew all too well how the South would flaunt their opulence and overplay their public goodwill.
No one in the Stark party expected or desired to draw attention to themselves. Thus it did not fail to surprise them when the festivities halted immediately and everyone stopped whatever they were doing to turn their undivided attention to the traveling party from the North.
"Lady Stark, your presence breathes life anew to the lands of your birth. The peoples of the Reach and the Stormlands welcome you and yours into our company."
"Lord Baratheon. To what do we owe such a welcoming party?" Catelyn inquired while remaining gracious and soft spoken. The youngest brother to King Robert clearly wanted to make his presence known from smallfolk to nobility.
In an effort to refine her diplomacy and manner of conduct, Dacey silently watched how Catelyn spoke with the Lord of Storm's End. It was a great demonstration of patience and poise as even Dacey could see how Renly Baratheon's voice was raised so as for everyone, especially the smallfolk, would have to hear him. "Happenstance and the will of the Gods have allowed our paths to cross. We were on our way to Riverrun and thought to pass through the Crossing." Renly replied with a bright smile.
"Then the Gods do move in ways beyond our own understanding. For the longest time, I thought it was nothing more than empty rhetoric." Brynden Tully retorted sharply. "I can only imagine whether or not you have had the privilege of trading banter with Lord Walder Frey and his elk."
"Like many of us here today, Ser Tully, this will be a day of firsts. King Robert's word goes far but even then, I venture to guess that the welcoming party on the other side of the Crossing will not be as pleasant as mine."
In an effort to quell the tension rising between her uncle and Lord Renly, Catelyn introduced her son and her future good daughter Lord Renly, who smiled at the Heirs of Winterfell and Bear Island.
"It is a privilege to meet a noble son of Lord Eddard Stark. Our houses have been allies and friends since the days of our ancestors. From Orys Baratheon and Brandon the Builder to my brother and your father, it has been House Baratheon in the South and House Stark in the North that held the realm together. If fortune continues to favor us, it is my hope that the union of stag and wolf endures well into the future." Renly spoke as if he were talking to a starstruck boy from the fields. Little did he know that Robb was not moved by his ostentacous praise. "I would welcome such a friendship, Lord Baratheon." Robb spoke with a firm voice yet knew to not sound patronizing or sarcastic.
Turning to the fair skinned, raven haired beauty with forest green eyes, Renly grinned cordially. "Robb Stark is a fortunate wolf to have been betrothed with such a fair maid as yourself. I present my betrothed. The Golden Rose of Highgarden, Lady Margaery of House Tyrell. Who knows? Gods be good, she will be the Queen of Westeros at my side."
Margaery, who stood at the side of her betrothed the whole time he spoke, had never met Robb Stark before. Therefore, it was not disheartening to see him with a woman other than herself. Nevertheless, seeing Robb Stark in person, Margaery saw the calculated strategy of her grandmother in regards to the betrothal that would have been. Even though it would have taken longer, the union of wolf and rose would lead to the Red Keep and the Iron Throne. An honorable wolf and a well learned rose at his side would keep the right the realm and keep the Tyrells in power. The might of the North and the Reach would have served to protect and feed the realm for generations.
Instead, she was set to marry King Robert's youngest brother while the Young Wolf's intended was a Northern woman 6 years older than both him and herself. The difference in age did not move her at all. If anything, it only sparked a curiosity in her.
Loras did not care for the Northerners at all. They held none of the interests or ambitions he possessed. House Stark and House Mormont followed the Old Gods, thus they did not hold any value in knighthood. Nevertheless, he was mystified as to why Lord Stark would wed his eldest son to a grown maid rather than the maiden daughter of Mace Tyrell, Warden of the South. House Mormont was not unknown to the Tyrells, thus he knew they had limited means and the lands of Bear Island were not the best for growing much of any crops.
A growl from Grey Wind instantly caught the attention of everyone. It scared many of the southern ladies and shocked the southern lords that such a beast was allowed to roam free in the company of the heir to Winterfell and the heiress to Bear Island. Dacey spoke up for the direwolf. "This is Grey Wind, close companion to Robb Stark. Fear not. He does not seek to harm anyone who approaches in peace and with respect."
A laugh from Renly broke through the fearful moment. "My lords and ladies, calm yourselves. It is not everyday one sees a creature of legend and myth in the light of day. There's no need for banners when your sigil lives and breathes at your side. This will certainly be a story worth telling over drinks and at your hearths to your children and friends."
While Loras was taken aback at the sight of the direwolf, Margaery was emboldened to step forward. "Would Grey Wind allow me to approach, Lady Mormont?"
"Sister, this creature is not a fawn from the woods or a new born lamb. It's a wild, feral beast capable of felling anything in its path." Loras said as he stepped between his sister and the direwolf, who growled at the southern pansy's insipid attitude.
"Loras, I know you mean to protect our sister but this direwolf has not pounced upon anyone. If Lord Stark and Lady Mormont deems Grey Wind to be without ill intent, Margaery will not be harmed." Willas Tyrell said as he and his brother stared at each other harshly.
"Fear not, Lady Tyrell. Grey Wind will not strike you if you approach in peace as my betrothed expressed." Robb spoke up for his direwolf and Dacey while trying to defuse the mounting tension between the Tyrell brothers.
With everyone watching, Margaery approached Grey Wind and ran her fingers through the smokey grey fur as it caressed her skin. "He may have appear fearsome but he is gentle when in the presence of friends and those he trusts." Dacey stated in an attempt to exert diplomacy and decorum.
Looking up at Dacey Mormont, Margaery was slightly shaken at the fierce gaze set upon her. There was a great strength in her; one that was not seen in even ten knights of summer. "Lady Dacey Mormont. It is my pleasure to meet you at last. I wish you and your betrothed many years of good fortune and peace."
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Margaery Tyrell." In a move that surprised Catelyn and impressed Robb, Dacey accepted Margaery's offered hand as a show of friendship and civility.
In spite of her sentiments of the South, Dacey reluctantly admitted that Margaery was graceful and better spoken than what she imagined. Nevertheless, old memories and old scars lingered in her mind. She is not Lynesse Hightower. Until she proves herself to be untrustworthy, do not lash out or strike her down. The honor of House Mormont and that of House Stark are both in your hands.
"Is this your first visit to the Riverlands, Lady Mormont?"
Dacey nodded. "Until now, I have never been further south than the Neck. I am more accustomed to the cold winter winds than I am to a summer breeze." Despite whatever feelings she had before for the young maiden from the Reach, Dacey could not find it in herself to be angry or spiteful against Margaery. The young girl had not done anything to warrant any contempt. It was only when they met did Dacey really understand that. "Good friends and pleasant company can make a barren land look like a lush garden." Margaery smiled as her words brought a smile to Dacey Mormont's face. It was only when the Tyrell brothers began talking that things took a hard left turn.
"It's been some time since we last saw one another, Lord Renly. I am amazed at how so much can change without warning." Willas Tyrell was no fool. He knew full well what was going on. With Loras being fostered in Storm's End and serving as squire to Lord Renly Baratheion along with Margaery's betrothal to Renly Baratheon, the Tyrells stood a strong chance of climbing upon the Iron Throne or, at the very least, holding sway over the man who would be king.
"It has been too long since these lands were graced with you presence, Willas Tyrell. Your father has spoken with me on many occasions of you."
"I have always kept you in my heart and in my prayers, dear brother." Margaery said.
Once her hand was released from Dacey's, Margaery approached her eldest brother. Willas took her hand in his and held it gently. "And you in mine, dear sister."
"How has life among the Northmen treated you? The first snows have not fallen and here you are. Have you seen the folly of your choice of actions?" Loras had lost whatever self control he had as his temper boiled over.
Willas had his eyes fixed on his youngest brother and yet his words were aimed to his sister. "If you listen carefully enough, my dear sister, you will hear our father cursing at me through our brother's tongue." With a reassuring hold on Margaery's hand, Willas cast his full attention to Loras. "In unconditional service to others without the ambition for title or rank, I have found a peace and satisfaction I have never known before."
"Satisfaction? Willas, you and I are brothers but you have taken leave of your senses long enough." Loras snapped. "Have you no sense of shame or remorse in the humiliation you have brought upon our family or the ill repute in betraying the Faith of the Seven?"
"I feel no shame or remorse in my decisions. They were mine alone to make."
"Come home, brother. The Warden of the South is not unforgiving. I could give aid to you in renewing your faith to the Seven and your commitment to Highgarden."
Willas stared at his youngest brother with an unreadable expression. Deep within his heart, the Heir of Highgarden prayed that his face and voice did not betray what he was shown in the godswood. "When you see our mother, tell her I am well cared for by the Northmen, who have embraced me as a friend rather than a servant."
Without asking for leave, Loras turned his back to his eldest brother and walked away. The resounding silence was too much for Renly or anyone else to endure. Thankfully, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands had a way to counter such an awkward inconvenience.
"If it can be considered an act of friendship, I offer care to your horses and my hospitality to you all. As another show of the ties that bind us, I invite you to cross the Twins with us as we venture forth to Riverrun."
"We gladly accept, Lord Renly." In light of the blatantly hostile banter between the Tyrell brothers, a bit of benevolent hospitality was not something to overlook or cast aside.
Deep in the Isle of Faces, a dark brown owl gazed out past the shrubbery of the heart trees to the gathering of Southerns and Northerns. One person caught its attention; the man with the lame leg leaning upon his sister for aid.
The owl turned his head to the carved faces of the heart trees, hooted four times and bowed in reverence. With wings spread, the owl took flight and departed from the presence of the Old Gods, soaring past the ruins of Harrenhal towards the Twins.
A/n: I got no excuses for the stall. You all know what has happened since late 2016, not counting the obstacles I have had to overcome in my personal life. I will not get into that now or ever. Suffice to say, I'm back. I have not abandoned this story. Even when I have had deep conversations with those who argue my stance on the entire purpose of my writing this. I do not mean to drag things out. With things turning out the way they have in this chapter, I have to push the inevitable Frey meeting to chapter 25. I will also have to take a moment to see if I can write Lord Walder Frey without cursing at him after every second syllable. Wish me luck.