Two chapters in one day? What! Unspeakable.

Bear Keep

298 AC

Rhaenys Mormont was not in a good mood.

For starters, her eldest child and son had hit his head on the stone flooring of the castle courtyard. While Duncan had held back his tears, it was soon found by Torwyn that he had suffered a mild concussion.

And that had been in the morning.

Now, Duncan was fast asleep in his room, being watched over by Lyra-thank whatever gods existed that she had given up her riding lessons to be with him. Rhaenys was too busy putting out fires left and right.

Thalia had been in worse shape than ever. Before Starag had left, she'd been as chipper as any pup her age. But now it seemed she had thrown herself into a sort of melancholic depression, almost exactly like the kind Rhaenys had seen in her own father.

It had also made Rhaenys wonder just how much the little three-year-old was missing her father. It had marveled her because Thalia would barely ever speak a word to Starag whenever he was around. Now, it seemed that regret and sorrow had caught up with her. She no longer played with little Lyanna at the dinner table, and neither had she felt in the mood to go out in Frostgate with Jorelle like she usually did.

And then there was Jeor… Rhaenys had to nearly hand off her youngest son to Maege during the last few weeks alone. He was getting far too restless, and there were days when Rhaenys simply needed some time for herself in order to recuperate from the chaos of it all.

Especially when it came to the petitioners…

Today was one such stressful day. And as Rhaenys sat in the great hall of Bear Keep, she dreaded to even look outside at the long line of petitioning fishers and hunters coming to beg for… Whatever it was they wanted.

"-and as I said, Your Ladyship," The tall, surly-looking hunter had clapped his hands together and bowed lowly. "We's got the youngins' to feed, we have! These wildlings on the north shoreline have been taking our game! Please, my Lady! If there's-"

Rhaenys' patience was running thin with this prattling man. "Have you not tried the southeastern forest? I'm sure there's plenty of game in those parts."

The hunter had widened his eyes. "But My Lady! That's on the other side of the port! It's-"

"Barely an hour's ride from Frostgate," Rhaenys said with a shake of her head. "The wildlings are here to stay, as per my Lord Husband's deal with them. Would you prefer to take up the matter with him once he returns?"

The man had stood upright and gulped, audibly. The fear and respect were visible in his brown eyes at the mention of Starag. "Not at all, my Lady."

"Good," Rhaenys said. "Then you'll have no problem finding food in the other regions of the island. Perhaps you can even take up fishing." There was a dull throb beginning to pulse inside her head. "Is that all?"

The hunter bowed again, much lower this time. "Yes, your Ladyship." And with that, he turned on his heel and left the great hall.

Rhaenys had reached over for the comforting mug of coffee that waited for her. As she sipped it, she noticed that it had gone cold. The sweetness of the honey was still there, but it was a facsimile of the delicious nectar it had been before. Now it was simply a dull tang on the tip of her tongue.

"My Lady," One of the guardsmen-Gondur had asked from her side. He had been promoted as the new Captain of the Guard by her husband. "Shall we send in the next?"

She put the mug down from her lips. Just before she was to answer, another voice had seemingly pitched in from her right. This time it belonged to none other than Torwyn, who walked up to her holding a letter in his hand.

Almost immediately, Rhaenys had felt excitement pour through her at the thought of the letter's contents. Was it from Starag? Was it from Jae? From where? All sorts of questions had bubbled inside her head at the thought of her man and his adventure across the Narrow Sea.

"Lady Rhaenys," Torwyn shuffled up to the throne and bowed. "A letter from Westhelm. For you, of course."

As soon as it had come, her prior excitement had quickly deflated. No word from either her man or her brother. That scared her most of all.

Rhaenys took the offered letter and smiled kindly at Torwyn, who had bowed and smiled back before taking his leave. He was only doing his duty. It wasn't his fault the letter hadn't been from Starag. She rolled open the letter and saw who it was from.

Rhae,

I'll be across the Bay of Ice later today. Would you save me a seat for dinner?

Your sister-in-arms,

Dacey

Rhaenys grinned in relief. At least there was someone she could bond with over this whole bloody mess. If even for a little while.

She glanced over at Gondur. The blond-haired man had been waiting patiently while she read the letter. "Send in the next." She said with a reluctant sigh.

"What did he tell you?" Dacey Mormont had asked with a raised eyebrow. She and Rhaenys sat together at the lunch table while everyone else was preoccupied with their food.

Duncan had still not been feeling well, so he was still sleeping in his room. Meanwhile, Thalia and Jeor were both being seen to by Maege-bless her soul.

"Well…" Rhaenys did not want to say why exactly Starag had decided to go sailing across the Narrow Sea. She didn't know how much Dacey herself knew. "He said it was very important to everyone on Bear Island. Our family most of all. Serious enough to bring in Lord Stark."

Dacey whistled at that. "Arthur told me it's something to do with national security." She snickered. "Tight-lipped as always, that man. Love him to death, though."

Rhaenys smiled warmly at the other woman. They were practically sisters by this point, even though Dacey and Starag were cousins as far as blood ties went.

Still, she was itching to jump to another topic. After all, she didn't want to divulge any private knowledge her husband wanted to keep secret, even from his own family.

"How are Ulrich and Amelia?" Rhaenys had asked, the question suddenly springing to mind. That, and she was curious to know how her niece and nephew had been doing these last few moons.

Dacey took the bait and smiled kindly. "They've been doing quite well as a matter of fact. Ulrich's been taking to swords. Just like his father." She said dreamily. "And Amelia happens to be just as hard-headed as her mother."

"She's been that bad, hmmm?"

"Yes indeed." Dacey nodded. "That one will be a hellraiser. Just like Lyanna."

"Hey!" Lyanna Mormont had frowned from across the table. "I'm not all that bad."

Maege had let out a loud bark. "Yes, you are!" She laughed at her youngest daughter's blush. "Who else ruled as the 'Fork Queen of the Breakfast Table' for most of her childhood, hmmm?"

Lyanna's blush had further developed into a full-blown tomato face. She decided to keep silent, lest her own mother continue bringing up embarrassing childhood memories.

"But what about yours?" Dacey had looked over at the melancholic pair of Thalia and Jeor. "Thought those two never went anywhere without smiles?"

Rhaenys found herself sighing more tiredly than she expected. "Usually they don't. But with Starag somewhere in Essos and Duncan in the infirmary… I fear they don't know what to do." She said. "They would follow Duncan's lead, but…"

She felt a firm hand squeeze her shoulder as she glanced down at the mug in her hands. It was from Dacey. "Aye, I understand, lass." She sighed. "There were times that Arthur would be gone for weeks. Always seeing to construction, always making sure the men got work done on time." She paused, finally showing that toothy smile of hers. "But when he came home… I knew everything would be alright. You know?"

Rhaenys did know. She understood completely. No matter how long Starag was away on business, dealing with some lordling, or doing gods knows what… He would always come home. Back to them. Back to her.

"I'm sure those two will shape up." Dacey nodded to Thalia and Jeor, who both played with their food solemnly. "And so will Duncan. You just have to give them time. Pray to the gods, and the gods will answer. They always do."

Rhaenys would not have ever considered herself a godly woman. As a matter of fact, she never did pray to gods in her whole life, not even after being brought up in a household that practiced the Faith of the Seven.

The Seven had not saved her mother and brother during the Sacking of King's Landing. No gods had intervened then. They had only watched and done nothing.

And yet… Over her years as Lady Mormont of Bear Island, Rhaenys had wondered why her husband kept so firmly to the Old Gods. Why he had slowly become more and more devout to them as the years progressed.

They did not have a godswood in Bear Keep, but there was a lonely weirwood in the Lord's Den- a sort of private sanctum where her husband would go to when he needed to reflect.

They had been married beneath a heart tree-the one at Winterfell. She had been married before the Old Gods, not the new.

It had only made Rhaenys wonder then if that was the reason why her prayers to the Seven had rung hollow all those years ago. As she hid in a broom closet inside the kitchens of the Red Keep while her brother and mother were being slaughtered.

Was she simply praying to the wrong gods? Gods who did not notice her because she did not belong to them?

Rhaenys did not know. Neither did she know if the Old Gods themselves were real. All she did know was that her husband seemed to think they were, and that was enough for her.

If giving her son a prayer to help him through his ailment was what he needed, then Rhaenys would gladly provide for him.

It was long after dinner by the time Rhaenys had found her way to the Lord's Den.

The room itself seemed more of a private chapel if anything. There were tall bookshelves, nearly twenty feet in height alone, with ladders attached to them. So as to help one scale their way up towards the upper shelves.

In the middle of the room was a small circular stone fountain of shimmering, crystal blue water. Her husband had had it installed shortly after they'd been married. She remembered how excited he had been to take his alone time in here.

On either side of the room by the bookshelves were wide mounds of dirt. Growing out of them were new saplings of Ironwood and Ash. They would be the only two trees beside the weirwood in this room once they were fully grown.

The white tree itself was inside its own stone enclave. It was not as large as the one at Winterfell, but still much bigger than any other weirwood tree on Bear Island for that matter.

Even then, the main difference was not in the size, but in the face of the heart tree that stood before Rhaenys Mormont.

The tree in Winterfell's godswood had a demure, sorrowful face. The one on the tree inside the Lord's Den was grinning, laughing almost. All the while, it was still crying those hauntingly beautiful blood-red tears.

Rhaenys had tentatively approached the laughing face. She was not used to these kinds of procedures, to the act of praying itself. Usually, she just looked for guidance in a book. Now, she found herself at a loss for what to say…

She remembered how her husband had looked when she found him alone in the godswood at Winterfell. He'd been sitting on his knees, with his eyes closed and his palms face-down on his kneecaps. Rhaenys lifted her skirts and repeated the position, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"I… uh… I've never really done this before." She started with a nervous chuckle. "But I wanted to ask you to…" A part of her felt incredibly foolish for talking to a tree. Nonetheless, she continued. "Please see that my son recovers swiftly from his injury…" She paused again, another thought entering her troubled mind. "And that my husband and my brother find their way home safely. That is all I ask."

After a moment, Rhaenys felt nothing. She did not feel any better for her prayer, and a part of her wondered if those laughing red eyes had truly listened.

Now frustrated, Rhaenys had stood up from her kneeling position and had made her way out of the Lord's Den with a huff, not bothering to look at the accursed tree any further.

She made her way up to her son's room, even at this time of the evening when she should be getting to bed and preparing for tomorrow's duties and responsibilities. She hadn't really made much time for Duncan today, and that decision had weighed on her greatly.

Gently, Rhaenys opened the door to his room and stepped inside. She still found that the fireplace on the left side of his room was lit. In fact, fresh bundles of firewood had been stacked upon the heap of embers, so as to keep the light and the heat going for some time. Probably Lyra.

Her son was stretched out on the furs and soft cotton sheets, a fresh bandage wrapped around his head. He was fast asleep, though there was a cold sweat running down his forehead.

Rhaenys sat on the side of his bed. She parted his tight black curls. She nearly giggled as she remembered how alike they were with Starag's hair.

That was when her smile had ceased. Even in the dim glow of the firelight, she could practically see Starag in every single aspect of her son. In the curve of his cheekbones, in the cruel, thin mouth, even in the way Duncan's eyes had taken shape. It was as if he were a purple-eyed clone of his father.

Rhaenys reached down and squeezed her son's hand. The ache in her heart had suddenly gripped her as she remembered just how much she missed the man who had given her this child. The man who had given her all of her children. Even the child who had yet to come…

She bent down and kissed the boy's forehead and smoothed back his head of hair. "I'll always be here for you Duncan. And so will your father." She poked at her son's chest. Just where his little beating heart was. "Right here. He'll come back to us. He always does."

Rhaenys did not sleep in the Lord's Chambers that night. She fell asleep cradling her son while she watched the fire crackle and spark.

And further below, deep down in the Lord's Den. The smiling eyes of the laughing weirwood tree glowed lightning blue.