Errol III

Storm's End, 297 AC

"...and that's all." said Errol, walking alongside Maester Cressen, adapting his own pace at the older man's slower rhytm. Cressen could walk by himself most of the time, though sometimes the cane wasn't enough to support him, and so Errol had voluntereed to accompany him whenever he went. He couldn't risk another accident.

"Hmm..." mumbled the old man. "And you haven't spoken to each other since before you left for the Citadel?"

"Exactly, Maester."

Cressen furrowed his brow. "Well, that's...that's sad to hear. There shouldn't be such bad blood between father and son." Errol had never liked discussing his personal history, much less his relationship with his father. However, there was something in Cressen's voice and face that had prompted him to talk. In a way, he reminded Errol of Uncle Doran.

Growing up, whenever things with his father became sour, he had always found shelter in his uncle's solar. And whenever he hadn't been busy with matters of ruling, Uncle Doran had always provided a friendly ear and a warm smile that managed to put Errol at ease. And Maester Cressen was very similar in that regard to his uncle.

He also remembered that Uncle Doran had always looked older than he actually was, and concluded that by now, he would surely seem to be of an age with Cressen, though in truth he was almost thirty years younger.

"You are right, but what can I do? The past is the past." said Errol. "I can't undo it."

"That's true, the past is set in stone." conceded Cressen. "However, the future is yet to be determined." He paused. "Boy...are you willing to accept some advice from an old man?"

"Of course!" said Errol eagerly. From a wise and well-read man such as Cressen, there was only to learn. However, a moment later he regretted those words. He had realized what the old man wanted to tell him.

Here comes another lecture, his inner voice grumbled. Just what we needed.

"You are the only one who can decide what is good for yourself. However, if I were you, I would try to reconcile with my father." he said, and Errol noticed a hint of sadness in his voice, almost as if he were longing for something long lost. "Before it's too late, else you will spend the rest of your life wallowing in regret."

Errol wondered whether Cressen was talking about himself, or him. Perhaps both. "Maester, did you..."

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by echoes of angry voices coming from somewhere beyond the corridor they were in. "Now, what..."

"It sounds like Lord Robert." theorized Cressen.

And in fact, he was right. For as soon as they rounded the corner, they arrived in the part of the castle where the lord's chambers were located. And standing on the threshold of his room, arguing animatedly with a young woman that Errol didn't immediately recognize, was Lord Robert himself.

"For fuck's sake, get out of here! I can walk perfectly fine by myself!"

"Like hells! You..." The woman turned as soon as she heard them arriving. It was Lady Argella, Lord Robert's younger sister. As tall as her brother, she was considerably gentler and easier to talk to. However, when she wanted she could be as stubborn as any true stag. Just like now, Errol supposed.

Lady Argella smiled in relief as she saw them. "Finally! Maester Cressen, please, talk some sense into my oaf of a brother!"

"If I am an oaf, then you are a..."

"My lord!" Errol stopped Lord Robert before he could say something that he might regret. "Please, there's no need to argue."

"Tell that to her!"

"What happened?" Cressen asked calmly.

"I just wanted to take a walk in the courtyard!" answered Lord Robert. "What's wrong with that?"

"You wanted to go riding, that's what!" Lady Argella was clearly concerned for her brother and annoyed by his behaviour. "You can barely walk, let alone ride a horse! Robert, you haven't fully recovered yet..."

"Nonsense! I am as fine as I ever was!"

So, that was the reason. Errol wasn't surprised. Lord Robert was an energetic man who never seemed to be happy with staying still for more than five minutes. He was also very fond of riding, a passion shared with his lady wife. For such a man, not being able to move as he pleased was the worst of torments.

"My lord, I understand your frustration." Cressen said soothingly. "However, this is one of those cases where one must exceed on the side of caution." Lord Robert's face darkened even more.

"Am I to spend the rest of my life on a bed, then?"

"Of course not, my lord. Your injuries were not as serious as your late goodbrother, but they still require time to heal."

"How much time?"

"A couple days, at most. I have to visit you in order to determine it. And I was going to do just that, when we arrived here."

Lord Robert grunted in exasperation, while Lady Argella merely smirked. "Fine! Do what you must." Errol was always surprised by how much sway Maester Cressen held over Lord Robert. He was like a second father to him, one of the few people who could rein in his temper and to whom Lord Robert actually listened.

"Very well. Now, if you would please go back to your bed..."

To Lord Robert's joy, Maester Cressen deemed him fit to resume his normal activities after just another day of rest. After that, Lady Argella gave Errol a letter and asked him to send it to Riverrun. She didn't tell him what it was about, but judging from her face Errol supposed it was for her bethrothed, Ser Edmure. He left the living quarters and went to the upper levels of the castle, to the rookery.

"Good boy." he said later as he tied the letter to the raven's feet. He had named it Nymor, and it was Errol's favorite raven, the only one who never cawed at him or tried to shit on his robes. Errol petted the raven's hair, and sent it on its way.

Strangely enough, the other ravens were quiet that day. They just stared at Errol as he checked their food and water.

As soon as he had finished with that, Errol heard a flapping of wings and a caw. He turned, and saw a new raven entering from one of the windows. The other ravens watched the newcomer suspiciously. Errol waited for the bird to stop on an empty roost and approached it. He had noticed a parchment tied to one of the raven's feet.

The royal sigil on the envelope made him raise an eyebrow. What could it be? There was only one way to find out.

Errol broke the sigil, unfolded the parchment, and began to read.

AN: I'm sure you're all wondering: "What the fuck happened between Errol and Oberyn?" And the answer is...I don't know. It's something that I added at the very last minute, without thinking too much about it. It's lazy on my part, I know. However, you can fill this blank with whatever theory you like.

Anyway, what's the content of the mysterious letter? You'll find out in two weeks, of course. Meanwhile, feel free to tell me your thoughts.