Chapter 37; Blessings of the fallen
Characters of the chapter
Ersal Avvar, a warrior of the Starwatchers hold, Mother to Ynessa
Jon Snow, also known as Aegon Targaryen and Jon Stark, King of the North Kingdom of the Twin Kingdoms
Marceau Voclain Envoy of the Orlesian Empire
Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell and the Eyrie, Wardeness of the North
Snow crunched under several feet and hooves of horses as a group of travelers journeyed through a wintery landscape. Most were moving at the pace of people made tired by a long march. But one among them, though an elderly woman and on foot, walked with a much more energetic pace, as someone used to weather like this.
They climbed a low hill, and their destination, the castle of Winterfell came into view. The travelers took a moments pause to take in the sight.
"Hmm, and old place. Strong deep roots, bones as ancient as the lands it is built upon. You can feel it, even from a distance." The elderly woman said with approval.
"It lacks the artistry and craftsmanship of our castles. But I suppose it has a dour kind of majesty about it. Fitting for a country like this. And despite its shortcomings it would have been a fine prize for the Empire. A shame that destiny decided it was not to be." One of the others commented.
"Destiny? You have a strange name for a dragon and a big fucking army, Orlesian." The woman said with a grin. "In any case this prize had been denied you, as the many who fell in your war can attest. I know I shall not forget the cost. Do not forget why we have come here." She added seriously.
"I have not forgotten the purpose of either of us. The Emperor has tasked me with a mission and I will see it fulfilled. But it does no harm to reminisce a little over what might have been." He said.
"It might actually, if you do it in front of the locals. Doubt they would take kindly to that." She said.
The Orlesian gave a dry laugh. "I know better than to say such things to their face, don't worry. Diplomacy is my profession. I know what I'm doing, Avvar."
"Be absolutely certain that you do. Before I have my daughters remains I would not have us thrown out because of anyone's stupidity." She said, utterly humorless.
"Let's get going. I want this to be over and done with." She added.
With that they resumed their journey, walking the remaining distance separating them from the castle. On their way to the gate they passed through a town at the foot of the castle. Many locals were going about their business. They took note of the Orlesian armor, angry faces everywhere one looked, more than a few of the Westerosi spitting at the feet of the Orlesians as they passed by. Clearly the actions of the Empire were fresh in the memory of these people. Fortunately they travelled with armed guards and under a banner of truce, otherwise who knows what might have happened.
Soon they were at the gates, where they were stopped by a cluster of North Kingdom soldiers. On taking in their appearance one of the guards disappeared on the far side of the doors, returning moments later with what could only be the captain of these guardsmen.
The said captain gave them a long look. "Orlesians, huh? You kind are not all that welcome in these parts any more. This castle is restricted to its residents and those who have been invited. State your business." He commanded.
"My name is Marceau Voclain, an envoy here on behalf of the Empire of Orlais. We are here to see to the fulfillment of one of the terms of the peace treaty the Twin Kingdoms have with our Empire. Namely the return of the weapon *Sunblade* to our control." Said the leading Orlesian.
"And I am Ersal. I wish to speak with your King regarding the remains of the previous owner of that weapon." Said the Avvar.
"I believe we are expected. Messages were sent here before us." Marceau said.
The guard captain scratched his chin. "Very well. I'll check on matters. If you lot speak the truth then you may conduct your business." He said.
"But as for meeting the King… that won't be necessary. If you've come for the remains of that weapon's owner, we will find them for you. I'll attend to that myself if you wish. But the King himself should not be bothered with small matters." He added.
"I wish to see him directly because I understand he was the one to strike the killing blow. She was my daughter, so this matters to me. So I will not be leaving here until I have met with your King." She said a bit more forcefully.
The guard captain paused, then sighed with annoyance. "Fine. I shall bring your request to the attention of the King, see what he wishes to do. Though if he says no then that is final. In that case we will provide you with her remains and then I will insist that you leave."
"You wait right here. I shall return shortly." He said in conclusion and departed.
"…And *I* am the one that has to make sure we won't get thrown out?" Marcel commented dryly after the captain was gone.
"You Orlesians are going to get what you came for. And I will make sure I get my daughters remains and that I will have my talk with the King, as I intended." She said, determined.
The guard captain found the King in the great hall in conversation with Lady Stark.
"Yes, captain? What is it?" Asked Sansa.
"Your Grace, Lady Stark. An Orlesian envoy and his entourage have just arrived at our gates. They claim to have come for the Orlesian weapon called the *Sunblade*." The captain explained.
"Oh, that thing. Yes, I remember the message that mentioned them being on their way. I was wondering when they might be reaching Winterfell." She said, nodding. "Very well. Thank you for your report, captain. I shall take care of this. Better get this over and done with as soon as possible. I don't want Orlesians within these walls a moment longer than is necessary."
"Agreed. But we must also take care not to send them away too soon. We aren't at war with the Empire any more. So even if we don't really feel like it we ought to try to be diplomatic." Jon commented.
"I know. Civility should be maintained, and I shall. One day should be sufficient for that, and I shall make sure the leave sufficiently content, provided they do not cause us trouble while we are here." She said.
"Let us go see our guests. Though first we must tell the kitchen to have bread and salt at the ready. I don't know if the Orlesians recognize the custom, but going through with it will only strengthen our case. If there is some trickery there the imperials will have to break the law of hospitality to do it. And it will make clear where we stand to our own people. It will help make sure ours won't be the cause of any incidents." She told the captain.
"And when we do meet them… I wish you to take note of their number, discreetly of course. When they leave tomorrow, count them again. I want the counts to match exactly. As many must leave as arrived." She added.
Jon could only nod his agreement to that. He did not truly think this Orlesian delegation was here to cause trouble. But after what they had done with their assassins he wasn't any more willing to assume any damn thing about the Orlesians than Sansa was.
"It will be done." The captain said.
"Your Grace, there is one other matter. One of the visitors… she wishes to speak with you in person." He then told Jon. "She was a very strange one. Not one of the Orlesians. From her outfit I would have thought she is a wildling, except… not quite."
Jon frowned. "And she wished to speak with me? Did she say why?"
"No, Your Grace, though she was very insistent. Claimed she would refuse to leave until she has met you. She also claimed to be the mother of the Sunblade's wielder. She appeared to know you were the one who slew her, Your Grace."
Jon and Sansa glanced at each other.
"…I suppose you could spare the time. All the quicker to get this entourage out of our hair and headed back to their home. But take care when speaking with her. Angry parents grieving over dead children can be surprisingly dangerous." She said.
"Not very, My Lady. She did appear rather elderly." The captain said.
"Even then it only takes one hidden dagger and a momentary surprise." Sansa countered.
"She's right. Better to be careful." Jon said. "But let's go see them now." He continued, standing up, his hand briefly checking on a dagger he carried at his belt.
After a brief moment of alerting the castle staff of the presence of their visitors, soon enough they were back at the castle gates, their guests before them. Beholding Orlesians again caused a twist in Jon's gut. Time had passed, but he had not forgotten the long, draining days and nights of holding out against the Grand Army, the waves of troops crashing against the walls, how many he had slain during the battles against them. How close they had come to being defeated by them. Now they would have to play host for these ones, even if only for a short while. He noticed a tension in Sansa's shoulders that told him she was thinking of the same thing.
He was also reminded how there still was a sizeable number of Orlesian prisoners camped near White Harbor, slowly shrinking as they were being shipped home. With ships needed for military operations as well as the transport of supplies and allied troops, it would be a long time before the last of the Imperial soldiers were gone from their shores. It seemed the legacy of this war was set to drag for quite a bit longer. The North Kingdom would certainly not be forgetting the wounds the imperial fleets and armies had inflicted any time soon.
It was a good thing this envoy had had the sense to inform them of their intentions beforehand. Had they shown up here unannounced there was a good chance they would have simply been turned away at the door, despite the fact their business here was perfectly legitimate. Even as things were now he was more than a little tempted to do so.
"You stand before King Jon of the North Kingdom and Lady Sansa of house Stark." The Captain said in introduction.
Despite her clear distaste Sansa adopted a formal, polite stance. "Envoys of the Empire of Orlais, Winterfell extends its hospitality to you. As the Lady of Winterfell I declare that you are welcome beneath our roof and at our table."
"I, Marceau Voclain, thank you for your gracious offer of hospitality. Rest assured we will not be abusing the privilege for any longer than is necessary." Said the Orlesian leading the group.
"Then the Orlesians don't wish to stay any more than we wish for them to be here. I suppose that is good news. " Jon thought.
Sansa meanwhile motioned with her hand and a servant stepped forth with a tray laden with bread and salt.
"Here. Eat of the food we offer, and know that you are under the protection of guest right." She said.
Marceau moved first, taking a piece of the bread, dipping it in the salt, then eating it. His movements were deliberate, so every one of the northerners in the castle courtyard could see him do it. The other Orlesians followed suite after him. Some of them appeared puzzled, hesitating, but a stern look from Marceau made them comply as well. It appeared this envoy had taken some time to study the traditions of the Westerosi.
As this was going on Jon noted the older woman that was with the Orlesians. And true to their guard captain's words, she rather stood out amongst the imperials. An aged person without question, though one with surprising strength still clearly left in her frame. Particularly when it came to her eyes, still clear and bright and focused. He took particular note of the tattoo on her cheek in the shape of what looked like a constellation. He vaguely remembered Ynessa having a similar tattoo, though in a different pattern. The woman noticed him as well, and continued to look at him from that point forward.
"Now, you have come for the weapon *Sunblade*. We shall bring you to it, so you can reclaim it. Afterwards you shall be shown to the rooms where you may spend the following night. They are already being prepared for you." Sansa said when their guests were finished.
"Though first… I would ask you to turn over your weapons." She added.
"There is no need to be concerned. Those weapons will be returned to you when you depart from Winterfell. And guest right protects your persons while you're here. To attempt to harm you now would be a grave violation of the laws of gods and men. It would sully the honor of anyone who committed such a crime. Honor which House Stark values. We would never commit treachery against ones under such protection, or permit such to be done." She reassured when there was hesitation amongst the Orlesians.
Marceau took a moment to consider. "Seeing as yourself, the King and other members of his family are within these walls, I can see why you would wish to ensure their safety. And I concede the Empire's previous actions have not inspired much confidence in our good intentions. Very well. We shall place our trust in you, and the tradition you speak of." He said then. He nodded to the others in his party, and they began handing over their weapons to the northerner soldiers.
Once the last of the arms were in the care, Sansa nodded. "Thank you. Now, if you would follow me. I shall bring you to the weapon you seek."
With that she left with the Orlesians and most of the guards in tow, leaving Jon and a handful of the soldiers with the woman.
"I understand that you wished to speak with me in person?" Jon asked, taking a step forward.
"Yes. Ersal is my name. The previous wielder of the Orlesian weapon was my daughter. So I have come to return her remains to where they belong. And to talk with you about related matters, of things you ought to know."
"I trust that you did not leave her body to rot?" She asked, an icy warning in her tone.
"We still have her remains. With such a person of importance it was thought best to retain them for a time in case someone like you wished to reclaim them. Now that you are here we will turn them over to you." He said.
Quietly he was relieved that he had thought to retain her remains. Most of the Orlesians had been cremated, the ashes buried in a mass grave just outside where their camp had been. A burial with more or less the least amount of effort the northerners had to give. And the only reason they had bothered cremating the bodies first was because of memories of the White Walkers and their undead. These days no one north of the Neck buried whole bodies if they had a choice. But by the look in Ersal's eyes she would have been quite wrathful had they put her daughter through such an indifferent burial."
"Please, come with me. I shall bring you to her. We can talk along the way." He continued. Ersal nodded, and the two left the gates with a pair of northerner guardsmen following a bit further back.
"You daughter was cremated. I hope that is alright with you." He said.
"It is… acceptable. I doubt it was done according to my people's ways, but Ynessa was a child of two worlds anyway. More than one tradition which could have applied to her, and honestly I am not certain which one she would have preferred. I shall respect her wishes, and leave the matter be at that." She said.
"Her wishes?" Jon asked.
"She wished to be buried in the place where I and her father first met, as a reminder of her origin, and what it meant for her story." She explained.
"I see. It does sound a like a respectful way to lay her to rest." He said in contemplation.
"Yes. I hope it will be. I wish to do right by her. Though more than that I wish that it would not be necessary for me to honor this wish at all. No parent should have to bury their child." She said, sorrow in her voice.
He nodded solemnly. "I think every parent with children in a war can agree with that."
They arrived at the Godswood, or what was left of it. The sight of the scorched trees gave Ersal a moment's pause. She could guess this was the work of the Orlesians. From the entrance they followed the inner edge of the wall for a time until they came to a storeroom built into the wall. Jon opened the door revealing a small room cleared of all other items save for a single table, upon which an urn sat.
"We placed her here. It seemed as good a place as any while we waited for someone to come for her remains." He explained.
"And if none had?" She asked.
"Then eventually we would have attended to her burial herself." He said.
Ersal nodded, then sighed and stepped towards the ashes. She stared at the urn mournfully gently placing her hand against its surface.
"My poor daughter…" She said, closing her eyes. "For all that I miss her, for all that I wish this had not happened, I cannot say this was unexpected end for her. Indeed this was what was thought to be her destiny from the very beginning. The Lady of the Skies had decreed she was to be born under the mark of the dragon. Born to great power, but also to chaos and destruction, which would inevitably lead her to her death. I thought to have her trained well so perhaps she could defy her fate. But that was a fool's errand in the end. All it did was make her aware of her capabilities and ignite a craving for battle within her. After that I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. I guess on some level she too must have known this was a possibility. After all, she had told me what she wanted done with her remains."
"She was a fine warrior though. One of the finest I have fought with." He said.
She gave a faint smile. "Yes. That is her. I was always so proud of her for that. And it warms the heart to hear an enemy praise her so."
Then the smile vanished again. "These are her ashes. Do you still have her things? In particular a vial she would have had with her?" She asked.
"…I think I know the one you speak of. One with blood in it?" He offered.
"Yes, that is exactly the one. Please tell me you still have it somewhere." She said.
"Well, about that… before she died… she gave that vial to me. She told me to drink half the contents and refill it with my blood. And so I did." He told her.
"You?" She said, surprised. "Hmm. I suppose if she had not found an inheritor by that time, she would not have had many options at that point. And if you were the one to defeat her then I can see why she would think you worthy to have this."
"I had thought the best I could hope for was to retrieve it, so it would not be left with foreigners who did not know its purpose. But if she gave it to you then it is yours by right. I cannot contest that. Might I at least see it?" She asked.
"Uh, I don't have with me right now." He replied.
"No?" She said, looking disappointed. "You should keep it on you from this point forward. You have been given a great gift, King. Even if you don't fully grasp the significance the least you can do in return is show respect to those who gave it to you by bearing it. And you cannot know when the time might come to pass it along to the next person. When that time comes the vial must be there to be given."
Jon nodded his understanding.
"You spoke with my daughter before the end. Did she tell you what it meant to drink of that blood and replenish it with your own?" She asked.
"She told me that so doing passes me the strength of those that had done so before me." He said.
"Yes. That is the result, as we believe. There is however, one other aspect to the deed. You see, by doing this, you have claimed a kinship in our Hold. In some sense you are one of us now." She said.
"One of you?" Jon repeated uncertainly.
"Indeed. Not all us will approve of this development, considering how it came to be. I count myself as one of them. But it is what it is. And so you have a right to know that through that link of kinship you are entitled to call on us for aid, including aid in battle. As a King at war, surely you would find that valuable. And regardless of my feelings on the matter, it is not my place to deny you this knowledge."
He gasped in surprise.
"Here. This belonged to me, but in light of these news you can have it." She said, handing him a round stone engraved with a curious looking mark.
"With this charm you can contact us. Merely focus on it and think of words you wish to say, and we shall hear. By the right of your new blood ties, if you are in need, call upon us and aid shall be sent." She explained.
"But do not abuse this right. Our numbers are not many like those of your lowlander nations. Nor are we a cudgel to bludgeon your enemies with. You are now our kin, and if you should call upon us you will remember that fact and treat us accordingly. Wield us carelessly or squander our lives needlessly and someone somewhere will one day see justice done for your callousness." She then warned.
"Understood." Jon said, nodding firmly.
"If this was yours, will you be alright without it?" He asked then.
"I believe so. I shall have another one made when I return to my people. And until then I travel in armed company. Orlesians are no friends of my people but they have no reason in particular to harm me. And they respect Ynessa's memory as much as I, so they will certainly leave her mother alone. I will be safe with them until I reach my own." She said.
"Good. Then you can enjoy the hospitality of Winterfell today and begin your journey home tomorrow." he said.
"No. I shall camp outside your walls and make do with supplies left over from the way here." She said firmly, catching Jon by surprise once again.
"I appreciate the honest offer, and I do not deny that a part of me is tempted to enjoy the comforts of this place after such a long journey. But at the end of the day you are still the man who killed my daughter. My conscience does not permit me to break bread with you." She explained.
Jon nodded again, and sighed. "If that is your wish, then so be it. I'll make sure my people know so they'll leave you be. But if you change your mind later on, you will still be welcome within the castle."
"I shall keep that in mind. And I will remember you were gracious enough to offer it despite the circumstances."
"But now I think I shall go. I have heard it said that your gods dwell in woods like this. Something tells me they do not approve of my being here. Especially not when their woods have been burned." She added.
Ersal took Ynessa's ashes and left, leaving Jon alone in his thoughts. It was not every day you met the mother of one of the deadliest combatants he had ever come across. At least today had come with a promise of new allies. The way things were, it was likely he would call upon them very soon.
Eventually he left the godswood, to go tell his people of Ersal's plan, then to meet up with Sansa, so she wouldn't be left dealing with the Orlesians all by herself.