Bear Keep

294 AC - One Moon Later

It was snowing.

Starag Mormont sat leisurely in the wooden armchair that had once belonged to his father. And his father before him, and so on. On his right was a small, circular wooden table, with an identical armchair on the other side.

There was an odd sensation that spread throughout his mind as he contemplated the millions of tiny thoughts that exploded in his head.

Somehow, none of those wriggling and insignificant ideas mattered. He just kept staring out at the snow.

Thankfully, the balcony had a sloped roof. And while there were no windows, letting him feel the airy morning chill, Starag hadn't a care in the world. Everything felt calm as if there was nothing to worry about. No fires for him to put out, or gruesome and tiring adventures for him to embark on. Nothing.

To his left, the large pine door had opened, though it had taken a few moments before it slowly jutted out. Light footsteps padded against the stone flooring of the Lord's Chambers, and onto the wooden deck of the veranda.

His wife had closed the door behind her with a push of her foot, as she held two mugs of fresh coffee in both of her hands. Thankfully, she managed to stay balanced and not spill any of it.

Rhaenys beamed at him, and he gave her a wink. Quietly, she placed down the mugs on the table and took her seat across from him, pulling up her bare feet to stop her toes from getting cold.

It was oddly endearing, seeing this wonderful girl sit crossed-legged in an armchair, and Mormont didn't particularly care. She had her quirks, he supposed, as all women do.

In fact, he rather enjoyed the childish aspect of his wife. It constantly reassured him that he'd have someone to take care of. It was beyond refreshing. Something he doubted he'd ever get enough of.

His aunt and his cousins were staunchly independent and were stubborn enough as it was. They followed his orders, listen to his counsel, and even respected his rule so far. But Mormont knew they were more than capable of taking care of themselves. As was the tradition with all Mormont women.

But Rhaenys was much different. While he had no doubt she could handle herself well enough, he did know that the girl wouldn't find much enjoyment out of it. And, for women at least, they felt a sort of… fulfillment in being looked after by the man they love. And by looking after him in turn.

That being said, Mormont did, at certain moments, consider his wife to be rather bookish. She was absolutely an anorak. One who often spouted random facts about history or philosophy on occasion.

She was a complete nerd. An adorable one, of course. Still. A nerd.

Starag didn't mind, however, when she did ramble on about a battle that had taken place somewhere or sometime in the past. It was when she realized that she had been rambling, that he'd see her pale-gold face turn a beet red.

It was good that he'd be waking up to see that face. It helped block out all the screams he heard in his mind before he went to sleep.

He had swiftly wiped all of those scrambling thoughts off the table in his mind. Now, Mormont simply gazed out at the early morning snow that fell from the light grey sky above.

Construction on the port by Fisher's Ridge had been going swimmingly for the past few weeks. The Manderly men that Lord Wyman had sent, had been wonderful guests and were getting along with Mormont's own men rather well. It was the start of a very fruitful relationship between their two houses.

Thanks to Mormont's own oversight, the workload had been expertly divided among the workforce, and everything was moving like an efficient machine. No time was wasted, and everyone knew what they were doing.

Mormont thought of renaming the Ridge. Though he hadn't invested much energy into that particular venture. He'd probably hand it off to Rhaenys.

In a moon or so, it would all be done, and then they'd sail across the Bay of Ice and begin construction on the settlement at Sea Dragon Point.

He smirked as he remembered the fresh pile of letters on his desk. Now, all the lords in the North had known perfectly just how rich he was.

And while they weren't quite offering marriage proposals, he did recognize just how much… warmer their words to him had been on the sheets of paper.

Especially the Glovers. Especially.

Mormont didn't give a rat's ass about them. With the stern exception of Ethan Glover. He was a good man, and one of the men who had ridden with him to the Tower of Joy.

The other Glovers could've jumped off a cliff for all he cared, though.

What would he name the settlement at Sea Dragon Point? And who would he give it to?

Probably Dacey. He thought to himself. But even then she'd be a hazard. Not that she wasn't competent in regards to ruling or commanding, but that as a woman, she was instinctively vulnerable to meeting the wrong man.

Certainly, the other Northern houses would get the bright idea to send marriage proposals to her personally, knowing of her independent nature. Just so they could get their hands on the newfound riches of Sea Dragon Point.

Not only would they be marrying his cousin for the wrong reasons, but they'd also try to assert their own interests in the growing settlement, and potential gold mine of the North.

And that would certainly throw a massive wrench into Mormont's plans.

If he were going to give Sea Dragon Point to Dacey, then he'd have to marry her off to someone he could trust. Someone who could not only look after his cousin but someone who wouldn't try to impede on his interests-or even better, someone who would promote them.

He smirked upon recalling the oh-so-distant memory of Arthur's pledge back at Winterfell. Perhaps, Mormont could use Dacey's relationship with Arthur to his advantage, and also make her very happy at the same time. A win-win for Mormont.

"What are you thinking about?" Rhaenys asked after his sinister grin with a curiously raised eyebrow.

Mormont picked up the mug and placed it near his lips. "About whether or not I'd have Dacey married off to Arthur."

His wife placed her elbow against the cold wooden table, cupping her cheek. "That sounds like an excellent match. They get along quite well, as I remember."

He nodded his head in agreement, though he didn't say anything. He took a deep draft of the first cup of coffee he'd have that morning. The strong, initially bitter taste was swiftly wiped away by the sweetness of the honey. Delicious.

"And I think they would certainly help with keeping the other houses away, as well. At least, for the meantime." She said as she took a sip from her own hot mug of coffee, also honeyed generously.

Mormont smirked. His wife had probably inherited her political savvy from both sides of her family. While she wasn't a natural, she learned quickly. "I thought the same. Have a letter drafted up by this afternoon. For Arthur's eyes only, of course."

He watched as his wife gently set her cup down, flipped open her book, and began writing down the instruction on a blank page. She looked at him with a ready and expectant gaze for him to continue.

Starag did so. "Invite him to Bear Island for a moon or so. Say it's for sparring. He won't come if I outright say I want him to marry Dacey. That, and I want to see how those two get along. He can bring Jon, too, if he likes."

Rhaenys smiled brightly at the mention of her brother's name. He knew she'd been desperate to hug the boy and tell him she was his sister. Still, she had obeyed him when he ordered her not to draw any attention to Jon.

She finished writing down all the details with her charcoal pen. It was a strange device, as Mormont had not seen anything quite like it before. Usually, if he had to write something, it would have been with a quill and some ink.

When he'd asked her about it, she'd simply shrugged and said that she needed something to write quickly with. Still, that itself was also a potential goldmine.

Ink is rather expensive… He figured. A barrier that prevented the smallfolk from learning how to read was the pricy cost of ink. But if he could somehow get rid of that…

Mormont nodded to the pen and told Rhaenys to show him how she'd made it later that day. She also wrote that down on the page.

It was as good a time as any to get her primed and ready for the day's business. Starag briefed his wife on what would need to get done, and Rhaenys had efficiently written down each and every sentence with that vivid memory of hers.

The fifth dockside would be finished ahead of schedule, and Mormont would reward the men in his service for their good and efficient work. As such, he'd be throwing a feast in Bear Keep and fill their bellies accordingly. That needed to be organized, of course, by Rhaenys.

"I'll have the hunters go out and find some deer." She nodded deferentially. "A lot of deer. Seasoned and grilled venison chops with some herbs will do the trick."

Mormont agreed. Then, they'd spoken briefly about the dispute between one of the fishers and the boatman who managed the ferry. Supposedly, the annoying and complaining man had tried to force himself on the fisherman's daughter. Something that Mormont was not about to tolerate under his rule.

As such, Dacey had been sent out to collect the man, along with four men-at-arms. While he tried to lie to Starag's cousin initially, the truth eventually came out. Along with more than several witnesses from Fisher's Ridge, that was it.

For the boatman, it was either life at the Wall or death. Either way, Mormont himself would carry out the punishment. He'd do it later in the morning.

"I'll have him brought up from the dungeons after breakfast," Rhaenys said in a cold voice. She'd not liked the man at all. Mormont couldn't blame her obvious distaste.

The rest of their daily operations were simple matters of organizing the household staff, which was minimal work. Mostly things that Rhaenys could handle without his intervention.

Once they'd finished, his wife closed her book and set the pen down next to it while she resumed enjoying her cup of honeyed coffee.

They both sat in pleasant silence as they watched the sun break through the grey clouds, shimmering down on the snow-roofed pine trees down in the valley below.

Mormont was gazing at the soft flakes of snowfall from the sky. They melted on the wooden banister just ten feet away from him.

He felt a much smaller hand slide into his. It was warm and soft. Rhaenys.

When he looked at her, he saw the plainly loving violet eyes beam at him. Though, there was a hint of apprehension in her blushing face. What was it?

She wanted to say something. But she didn't quite know how to put it. It was important. That much he knew.

"I…" His wife began with a shaky smile. "There's some other news, of course. I spoke with Maester Torwyn yesterday…"

That had gotten his attention. He leaned forward slightly to listen. What did the old man want? More pine needles to set on fire? Mormont wondered sometimes if the old man was either a follower of the Lord of Light or a simple pyromaniac.

It couldn't have been terribly important. Not unless she was-

It had struck Mormont right then. There was a knowing, ear-to-ear grin on Rhaenys' face as she knew he'd figured it out immediately.

"How long?" He squeezed her hand gently.

"A few moons now." She blushed as she recalled her first time with him. She hadn't been the best sex he'd ever had, but she was his woman. Mormont didn't particularly care how good she was in bed, as long as she belonged to him alone. "But… in six moons or so, we should expect a new cub in our little family."

He said nothing and only looked back out into the grey sea of falling snow. He was already a father to many bastards throughout Westeros, but the prospect of actually having a hand in raising his child had…

Well. It was certainly new.

Not that he was dreading it. As a matter of fact, he had a sort of inner knowledge that he'd be a rather demanding yet loving father. One that would challenge his children to be their best, to focus on absolute excellence.

And he would definitely make sure they grew up without money. They wouldn't appreciate it otherwise.

"What's wrong?" Rhaenys asked. She seemed distraught at his clear lack of enthusiasm. "Is it too soon? I can-"

"No." Starag cut her off with a pleasant smile. She'd do anything for him. And he loved her for it. He kissed the girl's forehead. Then he stared deep into her loving amethyst orbs.

"It's absolutely delightful."