Riverrun emerged from the mist like a shadow in a dream. Tully and Stark banners hung from the towers while the river weaved around it. "It's good to be back at a castle again," Tristan said softly.
Since returning from the Isle of Faces and finding Dom and Elmar waiting for him, the three of them had ridden hard for Riverrun, sleeping under the stars, rising at dawn, stopping at dusk. Every day they waited the Mountain got closer and closer, destroyed more villages and ruined more lives.
"Will we be here long?" Dom asked.
Tristan shook his head. "A day, two at most, we can't wait much longer before we go east."
They rode up to the castle, the drawbridge was raised, the river running blue in its shadow. Three guardsmen appeared on the parapets, two of them levelling loaded crossbows at his party. The third leant on the crenelations. "Who comes to Riverrun?"
"Prince Tristan, of House Stark," Tristan called across, "my squire Elmar of House Frey and my companion Domeric of House Bolton."
"Prince Tristan?" The guard stared at them. "We received no word you were coming."
"I didn't have the means," he replied.
"How do I know you are who you say you are?"
"What?" Why were they hesitating. Tristan gestured back to where Shield sat patiently. "Is that not proof enough?"
The guards consulted each other again. "Wait there. We're lowering the drawbridge, do not step onto it until I have cleared you to do so. If you do, my men will shoot." The guard disappeared, the crossbowmen keeping their weapons levelled.
"What's happening here?" Tristan asked.
"I'm not sure," Dom confessed, his hand brushing the pommel of his sword.
Tristan turned to Elmar. "Do you know?"
Elmar shook his head, swallowing. "No lord."
Tristan readied himself. Had something happened to Riverrun? His mind went back to Winterfell. No, that couldn't happen here, surely not.
It took a while, but then, with a rattle, the drawbridge began to lower. "Keep ready, prepare to run, just in case," he whispered. The drawbridge settled onto the bank ahead of them. The portcullis was still down, and Tristan saw men in tully livery gathering beind it with pikes and crossbows. The portcullis rattled up and the men marched out in a tight formation. The men stood across the bridge, six across, the front rank bearing heavy shields, the rank behind laying pikes out and behind them crossbowmen had weapons raised. The guard who had spoken to them from above stepped out ahead of them, a shield on his arm, sword in hand. "Advance onto the bridge. Do so slowly. No sudden movements or we'll fill you with bolts.
He eased his horse onto the bridge and approached the guard captain, Shield trotting up at his side. "Stop there." They reigned up. The guard captain took a few steps forward, peering up at Tristan. When he was satisfied he bowed his head. "Apologies, Prince Tristan." He turned to the men. "Back inside, it's him."The guards retreated inside and the captain indicated for Tristan to enter.
"Thank you, ser," Tristan said, leading Dom and Elmar into the castle.
The courtyard of Riverrun was almost empty. Apart from the guards who were laying down their shields and pikes and returning to the castle walls, there was no one about. Not a servant in sight. "Where is everyone?" Tristan asked.
"The few left behind are inside," the guard captain said. "I'm sorry again, my prince, but this is all the guards left behind," he said, gesturing to the men.
A quick glance told Tristan there couldn't be more than forty. "This is all?"
The captain nodded. "Aye, his grace took most of the men south, we have to be extra careful."
"Are my mother and sister still here?"
"Yes my prince," the guard captain said. "I sent word someone was coming claiming to be you, they should be here soon."
Tristan nodded, dismounting. "Let's get the horses into the stables," he told Dom and Elmar. "You can return to your post, captain, we'll handle this."
The captain bowed. "Yes my prince."
They took the horses into the stables and started taking off the saddles. Two stableboys came with hay and water for them, Tristan took off the saddle of his and Elmar's horses, passing them to the squire who hung them up while he started brushing them down. He'd nearly finished one flank when his mother entered, saw him, and stared open mouthed.
"Tristan? What are you doing here?"
"Hello mother," he said, turning to her with a smile. "I came back."
"Yes, I see," she looked him up and down, frowning, as though something was out of place. "Do you boys mind if I steal my son for a moment?"
"Not at all, lady Catelyn," Dom grinned at her.
Tristan turned to Elmar. "When you're done with your horse, see to my own."
"Of course," Elmar said.
Tristan followed his mother out of the stables, past the kennels, where the gods inside barked and growled, and into some gardens where the castle's sept lay. She opened the door and urged him inside.
It was warmer in the sept than outside, and they were alone. Catelyn turned to him and looked him up and down. "So," she began. She sounded unsure of how to continue. "How are you?"
"I'm well," he replied. "Better than well. Better than I've been in a long time."
His mother nodded, looking relieved. "I just want you to know, Tristan, I didn't want to send you to the Green Men. I tried to persuade your brother, I wanted you to come here."
"Mother," he interrupted her. "It's alright. Robb made the right choice. Going to the Green Men was something I needed. They helped me come to terms with… a lot."
"You look different. I'm not sure what it is, but there's a difference to you."
"I hope so," he tried to smile, but the memory of who he was before threatened to cut through. No, that couldn't happen. "I was wrong before. I was wrong about so much." He coughed, pushing away those dark thoughts. "Where is Arya? Has she gone?"
"No, she's here," Catelyn replied, "I told her to wait inside for now in case…" she trailed off.
He felt the dagger in his heart. "Mother, I was never that bad, I never got to the point of harming my own… I did, didn't I." He hung his head in shame. "Sansa got hurt because of what I did."
"Yes, she was," Cat said.
"I won't let it happen again."
She stepped up to him, touched his cheek and turned his face to stare into his eyes. "Looking in your eyes, I believe it." She stepped back. "Why did you come here, Tristan? Why didn't you go to Robb? He's fighting the war."
"I know," he replied. "I also know he doesn't need me right now, but there are those that do."
"Who?"
"Mother, have you received word from the east?"
"The east? You mean from Lysa?"
"No, from the lords in the east of the Riverlands?"
She frowned. "No, nothing recently. Why?"
Tristan sucked in a breath. "Because they're in danger."
"Danger? From whom?"
On the journey to Riverrun, he'd contemplated lying, saying a refugee washed up on the isle while he was with the Green Men. But no. He wasn't going to start anew with a lie. "This is going to sound strange, but please listen." And he told her everything. He told her about the Green Men, the training, Shield, the visions, all of it.
She sat down, brow furrowed. "That's a lot," she said.
"You don't believe me."
"No. I don't know." She stood up and clenched her hands into fists. "But if there is even a chance that the Mountain is coming back to the Riverlands, after everything he's done, I'll help you."
He pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, mother."
She hugged him back, rubbing the back of his neck. "What do you need?"
"The garrison, is that really all you have here?"
She nodded, pulling away. "Robb needed every soldier he could call on."
"There's no one else?"
"Not here," Catelyn replied. "Unless…" She pursed her lips, thinking." Robb has sent word back to us. He is sending soldiers back with the prisoners he has taken so far in the war, and they're coming as an escort. They're not here yet, but soon they will be."
"I can't wait for long," Tristan said. "Can we send a… Mother, can you have a letter written for me, I have an idea."
"What letter, what idea?"
"A letter explaining that I need some riders from the column to meet me at Harrenhal."
"I can, but who are we sending it with."
"You remember how I said I saw the Mountain coming?"
She nodded. "Yes, you say you inhabited the mind of a bird."
"Exactly," he said, feeling a smile come to his lips. "This time I'll take control of one of our ravens and fly the message to the column, that'll cut days from the journey."
"I suppose that would work," she didn't sound confident.
He took her arm gently. "Mother, it will work, I promise, I'm not mad, and I'll demonstrate later for you."
She put her hand on the back of his. "Okay, I'll have the letter written. In the meantime, Arya is looking forward to seeing you, shall we go into the castle."
He could imagine the sight of Arya. "I want to see her first, but there was another reason I came here, and I have to see to it first."
"What reason?"
He took a breath. "I need to speak to Jaime Lannister."
The damp of the dungeon was pungent as he entered the lamp lit corridor, leading to the dozen cells beneath the castle. The gaoler pointed to one of the ones at the far end. "He's down there."
"I'll take that," Tristan said, taking the bowl and cup, "thank you." He headed to the cell the gaoler had pointed out, his footsteps ringing on the stone, the lights casting pale shadows into the other, empty cells as he passed. At the last one, he turned and looked at the legendary Kingslayer.
Ser Jaime was a ragged mess, his hair matted and mud stained, his right hand wrapped in bandages. They weren't there to stop the blood flow any more, they were here to stop the stump getting infected in the dungeons. He sat against the stone wall, looking at the ground between his legs, his discarded breakfast utensils to one side. "Ser Jaime?" The knight glanced up, saw Tristan and lunged. Instinctively Tristan recoiled from such a famous knight, ser Jaime hissing in fury, before the chains on his legs and neck jerked him back. He took a few breaths to still his heart.
"What do you want?" Jaime demanded, eyes blazing with anger.
Tristan swallowed. "I have your next meal," he said, setting down the bowl to fish the keys out and unlock the bars to the cell. He retrieved the bowl and set it, and the cup of wine beside it. He wasn't supposed to have wine, but Tristan wanted to start with a gesture of good faith, not that it would mean much considering what Tristan had done.
"What. Do. You. Want?"
"I wanted to apologise." Tristan said, wanting to sit down but thinking it best to remain standing. "For what I did to you."
"Apologise… APOLOGISE! You cut off my hand you bastard!"
Tristan waited. When Jaime had finished he spoke. "Yes, I did, and I was wrong to do so. I shouldn't have punished you for the actions of your father."
"I care nothing for it, nothing!" Jaime's bloodshot eyes glared at him, filled with hatred.
"I understand, but I have to do this," Tristan said. He crouched to Jaime's level.
"Fuck off!"
He swallowed again. "Just hear this and then I'll go, maybe drink the wine," he gestured at the cup.
"Wine?" Jaime glanced down at the cup, then took it and swallowed it in one go.
Tristan used the opportunity to speak. "Ser Jaime. I know I can't put your hand back, I can't put right what I did wrong, but I can offer you this. When this war is over and you're a free man, if you have need of my help. As long as it doesn't hurt my kingdom or my king, I will give it, whatever it may be, you have my word on that."
Jaime scoffed in disbelief. "Get out, I'm not interested in what you have to say."
Tristan nodded. "Just remember it, ser Jaime, the offer stands."
He took the remains of breakfast, shut the door and left Jaime to him.
()()()
"I still can't believe you're going to do this," Arya said, almost giddy. "Do you think I'll be able to?"
"Some day, perhaps." Tristan settled down on the floor of the rookery, crossing his legs. "Just, make sure I'm not disturbed."
He'd demonstrated his new powers to his Arya, Catelyn, Dom and Elmar after dinner. He'd sent them to find Shield and tell him a sentence while Tristan was in another room. When they returned, Tristan recounted those sentences to them. Arya believed it from her youth, Dom trusted him as a friend and Elmar as his master, but if Catelyn hadn't seen it for herself she would have discounted it, even now she seemed unsure.
They fixed the letter to the leg of a raven that normally flew for Highgarden. He thought it best to take a bird that was used to flying south, it would be easier than one that normally north, east or west.
"We'll keep watch over you," Dom said.
Tristan nodded and stared at the bird that was settled on the edge of the rookery window. He reached out and slipped into its mind, cawing at the others before hopping into the air and stretching his wings.
It took a little time before the raven was comfortable with Tristan's presence, and he was able to take charge of the bird's body and lead it south, scanning the roads beneath him to find the men Robb had sent north and deliver them the message tied to his leg.
