Starting this chapter, I'll use the space up here to reply to your reviews since the last postet chapter. Sorry to all reviews that did not make the cut of September 17th but yay for reader engagement. Woop woop.
Anime Princess: Yes. Or is it?
Nagato21: I am kind of tempted to have him swallow Rhaegar's sword first. Poison and honey. Have neither planned his entire rise or demise yet.
Moshi: According to "A Wiki of Ice and Fire", which I base my age estimates on, Robert is 4-5 years older than Lyanna to Rhaegar's 7-8. With Lyanna at 14 to 15 that is a significant age difference. Also, I've depicted Rhaegar as actively trying to rape this way younger Lyanna. Robert did not. Egro, one's a pedo, the other not. Brandon is a year older then Ned, making him 2-3 years older than his betrothed at ca. 20 to 18. Robert and Brandon, while the latter an attempted rapist, do not deserve the same label as Rhaegar as to our knowledge and my story so far.
The Three Stoogies: Thanks!
Austin: About a possible meltdown by Rhaegar over not appearing Others, I'd guess he'd just be stuck preparing for a war that isn't coming until he just dies.
Felon GT: That would be a gross insult to House Stark to whom the king has just buddied up to, he could give Rhaegar an absolution that he does not want to give and he would publicly display distrust in the honor of his Kingsguard which would not endear his bodyguards to him. Never a smart move, so unlikely.
InfinityMask: Thanks, as Lya was raised in the house of MC Rickard I'd never dare to portray her as a vapid twat or uncaring towards her pack. Fostering has threatened to ruin his other kids, Lyanna's just fiercely independent.
Cesar17: Your ages are sadly not accurate to my story, if information is available, I am strictly sticking to the information in A Wiki of Ice and Fire. I can't be bothered to type out the proper ages though.
magnus374: Another commentor has mentioned my use of abortion and abort threw them for a loop as it did not fit with GRRM's world vocab. In the end, Oswell'll have more derisive monikers for more people and crasser attitude, blending with his alleged dark humor. Something to maybe develop later and very internalised. As to pedophiles being a thing in Westeros, most people not, well, pedo or Frey wait with noble marriages until the girls reach their majority as mother mortality has been noted to increase with younger mothers. Ergo, pedo. I also point to the first part of the excellent comment by John Smith from September 19th.
NightlyRowenTree: Thanks!
John Smith (all comments): Thanks? Do you mean worst in terms of morally most damaging and most reprehensible on Rhaegar's part? Or worst in least favorite version for you? Cause I would equate the false offer of freedom to that man in the trench coat offering children in the playground sweets from the back of his car. As for a story about the Elia and Rhaella train, check out "I was whole, whole I would remain" by dwellingondreams on AO3. Plus, your comment on the 19th. Just yes. Agreed. Surprise, women can be characters.
saphirablue25: Dude, (or, dudette) firstly I point to John Smith's comment about childbed mortality rates and the Maesters have discovered in canon that girls giving birth to early die more often. So no, a woman is not commonly married off as soon as she flowers, neither in Westeros nor in RL. Viserys was a mad idiot desperate to get his hands on the army of Khal Drogo and, surprise, Dany's baby died and she allegedly became barren (I know, magic yadda yadda, but hey, facts). Rhaegar's still largely a blank slate, in part idolized by Barristan, who had a mad king as the alternative. Lyanna/Rhaegar in a Romeo&Juliet style just won't happen here. We have no idea what Ned actually thought of Rhaegar, either. I'll take feminist as a compliment btw. Means to me I've got at least one woman of character to that goes against what trolls want to see her depicted as.
Sammyd12: Thanks mate, much appreciated on both comments.
Anon: Thanks.
Radeisth: Thanks. For me it's style over substance, having a good AU with little divergence for side characters imo works better on a purely comedic take or with an overpowered SI. Second version is difficult to keep interesting.
Artemis0406: Thanks
silverswath: Thanks. Shella's dear to me as she's the first player I introduced no one saw coming. Baby got brains.
ayienne: Thanks
Title Quote:
"Every once in a very long while, Lord Tywin Lannister would actually threaten to smile; he never did, but the threat alone was terrible to behold."
Tyrion Lannister, A Storm of Swords
"Lostah, I ride with you please?"
Rhaenys asked Rickard with as earnest an expression as possible at two and a half years old.
"Of course, Little Sun. But are you sure you do not want to ride with Shasha and Nappa today? This is our last day on horseback, we will arrive at Riverrun later in the afternoon."
Rickard had to suppress a smile while the little princess was pondering seriously on the matter. Everyone at camp knew that his son Eddard had become Rhaenys' favorite person in the world. Even Rhaenys nickname for Ned, Nappa, was a mix of Ned and papa. Rickard was of the belief that Shasha, the Lady Ashara, had actively encouraged this development.
Ned had proved himself a wonderful caretaker with the little girl and was just as captivated with the princess as she was with him. Eddard had been the first to call Rhaenys Little Sun, a moniker every one of the riders for Riverrun soon adapted.
Well, everyone except Brandon, whom Rhaenys gave the nickname Rapey after some creative nudging by Ashara. The Dornishwoman had done her best to avoid Brandon, and where that was not possible, completely ignored his presence. Still, that did not mean she was above taking her revenge on Brandon in… roundabout, but perfidious ways.
After almost a minute of deep thinking Rhaenys made her decision on who to ride with today and Rickard was not at all surprised he was not chosen.
"I ride with Nappa!"
Not at all earnest anymore, the little girl was now giving Rickard her toothy grin, bubbly and happy as only a child can be. Rhaenys' smile really did warm hearts and lighten moods, the name Little Sun fitting her perfectly. Then the little girl changed from giggling to thoughtful again in a heartbeat.
"But Nappa and Shasha in bed now…"
Gods, still? Ned always used to be the first to be ready in the morning. At least before meeting his ladylove, now Ned was rarely up earlier than necessary. Still perfectly on time to break camp, but Rickard was coming to doubt the Lady's reason for sharing Ned's tent of being that she only felt safe in Ned's presence with Brandon around.
Still, it was a difficult subject to broach, and the tension between Rickard's two sons was high enough as is. But Rickard had been young and in love, too, and Lyarra had not been shy about keeping warm in winter, even before hers and Rickard's betrothal had been official.
With that in mind, Rickard had agreed to the lady's request to keep watch over the princess every second night after Rhaenys fell asleep. The Little Sun was most comfortable around Rickard, only discounting Nappa and Shasha
And your tent is the best and most comfortable, Lord Stark, just right for a darling princess, Ashara had said to Rickard, as flimsy an excuse as Rickard had ever seen. True, Rickard's tent was the best and most comfortable in the camp, but the googly eyes the Lady Ashara and Ned shared belied her intentions. Rickard just hoped they were being careful.
The clever woman also asked for her and Ned's tent to be stationed on the outskirts of the camp with Brandon's tent on the direct opposite end. Obviously, the Lady's apprehension was not gone, but the request had the added bonus of increased privacy for her and Ned at night.
Still, Rickard noticed some of his men-at-arms occupying the tents in the vicinity of the young pair throwing Ned either jealous or admiring looks, so Lady Ashara was probably a little louder than she thought. Though, Rickard did not have the heart to tell the young lovers to stop – and Rickards's men that were robbed of their sleep did not have the heart either, or the balls.
Both Ned and Lady Ashara had proven themselves quite protective of each other, and vicious of tongue. Also, Rickard highly suspected, quite a few of his companions were now living vicariously through Ned, with their wives back in the North and on the road for so long.
There were no other women riding with their group at the moment and even Rickard had to admit, gods, what a woman Ashara Dayne was. She was too young for him, sure, and Rickard was not of a mind to entice his son's love away from Ned.
Growing older together with Lyarra, even after she had now passed, Rickard had acquired more of a taste for… seasoned women, so to speak. And if Rickard ever had to think of marriage again? Well, he'd prefer a woman with a more ample… dowry, than Ashara Dayne.
The young couple just exited their tent as the precious princess bounced over to them to hug their legs before being lifted onto Ned's shoulders. There she promptly fisted his hair. His son as always set about taking down and packing up his tent without seeming to mind the girl straddling his neck.
Almost like an established ritual now after ten days with the Vale party since Darry, some of Ned's tent neighbors came up to Eddard and gave him a few respectful shoulder claps. At the beginning one man had asked Eddard how he did itit, only to be met with stony silence and a truly deathly glare. No one ever dared asking again. Eddard Stark was definitely no kiss and tell.
It did not take long anymore for the whole camp to saddle up and Rickard soon found himself approaching his heir and his heir's beloved for some important planning. Before Rickard could start talking, however, Rhaenys stretched out one hand towards him from her vantage point on Ned's shoulder.
"Lostah, hug!"
With a lazy smile Ned took to directing his horse only by his feet, letting the stallion slow from a trot into an easy walk. As Ned arrived at Rickard's side, Ned lifted the girl on his shoulders up to seat her in front of him until Rickard was ready to take the princess. Ned never denied the girl anything. Rickard was already afraid is future grandchildren would be spoiled rotten.
Princess Rhaenys was handed to Rickard soon enough and she cuddled into him for a little before she began pawing at his beard with wide eyes. She liked doing that with all the Northmen, fascinated by their rugged facial hair. Most southern nobles tended to always be clean shaven.
Even King Aerys, who had not cut his hair since the Defiance of Duskendale, did not have a nice full frost catcher in his face. The king for the life of him simply could not grow a proper beard. Rickard, on the other hand, could not help but be a little prideful at keeping the most immaculately groomed beard in all of Westeros. It definitely had the Rhaenys seal of approval of the highest order.
Despite his intentions Rickard found himself playing and snuggling with the vivacious child in his arms for a while, riding quietly content alongside his son and Lady Ashara. Not since Benjen had been young had Rickard spent so much time playing with a little one so often.
Oh, Lyarra, if only. Rickard missed the sound of children's laughter filling the halls of Winterfell
Maybe again someday. A new marriage for him was definitely a powerful tool in the coming storm, even as he balked at the idea of anyone taking Lyarra's place beside him. There was no strategically beneficial woman on the market at the moment.
Lyarra had been a Flint on the maternal side and his most important bannermen were in on his plans and supportive of southern alliances. Maybe Emmon Frey would have to die soon. Other prospects were viable, too, like future widow Rhaella or a Stormlands' bride. Perhaps even a Sisterwoman, but that would require a lot of concessions.
No matter. Time for marriage came later, time for politics came now. Rickard addressed the bundle of energy in his arms and beard.
"Little Sun, I need to speak to Shasha and Nappa. Who do you want to ride with? Fofo, Kylie, Uncle Jon?"
The princess switched from crestfallen to thoughtful to giggling in an instant again.
"I want Rapey. He taller. I fly!"
Rickard still cringed at the name. Ashara chortled beside Ned, suppressing a laugh. At least his new heir had the decency to look abashed, even as Ned's beloved remained entirely unapologetic at the withering look Rickard shot her. He understood Ashara, sure, that did not mean that Rickard had to like it.
Regardless, Brandon might have to be part of the discussion, so he would not be able to look after the little princess. Not that he would be happy to, as Rhaenys only addressed people with her nicknames. So, Rickard replied:
"Sorry, princess, Brandon may have to talk with us, too. Elly is rather tall; do you want to fly on his shoulders?"
"Fly with Elly! Yay, let's."
Apparently the exchange was acceptable, and Ned winked for Elbert to come over. As soon as the Arryn heir arrived, he quickly lifted Rhaenys onto his shoulders. The little girl once more turned to Rickard; even at two she could be prim and proper.
"Thank you, Lostah, bye."
"Lord Stark," Elbert himself repeated with a trace of mirth to his smile and an inclination of his head as he took on the delightful burden that was the princess.
As Elbert distanced himself from Rickard, Ned and Ashara to give themselves privacy, Rhaenys could already be heard humming her new favorite tune and asking Elbert Arryn to sing for her. She loved it when Ned or Ashara sang for her most, and Ashara gladly indulged Rhaenys in singing their favorite song.
When the three of them were alone, Rickard finally had his chance to address what he approached the two love birds for.
"Lady Ashara, the next few days at Riverrun will be one of the key gatherings before the coming civil war. Can I convince you to excuse Brandon from his compulsory confession during our stay there? I will try my hand at a performance and too much of a stain on Brandon's name beforehand may be damaging."
"Lord Rickard, of course that poses no problem," she said. "May I fund a few bards to spread the word instead after our stay at Riverrun, in return?"
Scheming, shrewd woman she was. Rickard approved. Her answer would have left Rickard smiling if the subject of their talk had been an enemy. The warm violet eyes that regarded him could not mask the cold turning wheels he knew they hid. Ned's grey eyes were hard as iron as he spoke, his own concerns showing he learned well from him since they reunited.
"Father. You spoke of Hoster and how he declined to help you and brother. He will slight Shara."
It was not a question. Rickard did not deny it. Eddard continued, in turn.
"Send a raven from Riverrun to Starfall, on the day after you accomplished your goals. Arrange my marriage. I will bear the slights towards my beloved in that case, as will she. I will not forget it. I will also not forgive Hoster Tully condemning you and my brother to your deaths. None may condemn Brandon but the pack leader, and Hoster is not worthy to sit in judgement of you."
Despite his calm Ned was seething. Hoster Tully was not in his graces, but his mask was impeccable. His lady looked upon him with such devotion, such love, and after a second as he caught her gaze, he returned it in kind. Rickard was not entirely opposed to Ned wedding Ashara, but his son could not have everything handed to him.
"Convince me, son. Why not a Northern House, after this fiasco with the Tullys? What does House Dayne offer the Starks? What the North?"
Ashara seemed ready to come forth and drown him in words, bursting already, as Ned took her hand and looked at his father. Calm, steady. Worthy. Ned could become great, Rickard knew it. His son's answer was well thought out.
"Since the betrothal of Brandon and my fosterage at the Eyrie, many Northern Houses started betrothing amongst each other. There aren't too many eligible daughters left. There are no Glover or Bolton daughters this generation. The Umbers do not have a single one for us either, not since Mors' daughter was taken when I was young.
"Leona Woolfield is now a Manderly, and they already have a babe. Donella Manderly married Halys Hornwood a few years back. Halys has a sister, Berena, but a connection to the North's important harbor and the North's most important House? In one generation, that is too much growth. Besides, I hear they are having talks with the Tallharts, to get access to both seas. Smart of them, and Ashara's and my planned arrangement with Starfall may interest them.
"Sybelle Locke is an option, but then grandmother Marna was of their House. The Lockes are talking of a betrothal to one of the Glover brothers as well. We might just offend the Masters of the Wolfswood if we break their betrothal. Besides, your marriage to mother bound all the Flints and all the mountain clans to our House, another marriage to either is unwise.
"Arnolf Karstark has daughters, true, but his relation to Rickard is contentious. Lord Karstark will not thank us if I wed one of his cousins. The only other eligible woman is Dacey Mormont, and not for another ten years. We need alliances now and the Mormonts are our most loyal bannermen already.
"Besides, Dacey is heir to Bear Island at the moment and Lord Jorah has so far proven to have a weak seed. Her mother Maege may not thank us for taking Dacey away. A better option is to wed Benjen to her and let their children carry the Mormont name.
"There is Barbrey Ryswell. I… do not see her as an option. Honestly, father, I believe you and Brandon thoroughly botched out relations to both father and daughter of House Ryswell. Either bind Barbrey to Brandon or to the Dustins. If I take her for a bride now, we will only appear weak.
"I say better we pay the Ryswells off or bind them in the next generation. Besides, if we show our banners that insolence like that of Lord Ryswell is rewarded, we will have problems with ambitious lords for generations to come. And as you taught us, Father, every good lord is ambitious.
"Among the Northern houses, that only leaves the Neck. My friendship with Howland Reed is unshakeable, and besides, the Lord of Greywater Watch is a friend to Lady Ashara as well. He will support our marriage."
After that Ned fell into a short lull. Rickard had rarely heard his son speak so many words at once. Ned truly was fond of the Lady Ashara, there was no denying that. Rickards's son continued speaking, grasping Ashara's hand just a little tighter.
"As for a Vale bride. I thought it might have been your intention, seeing how you send me to the Eyrie to foster. But the Lord Paramount of the North marrying a bride from the most Andal kingdom? That could terribly upset our bannermen. Only a Royce or a Redfort would work.
"However, just as in the North, there is no Redfort daughter of suitable age for me. There is a Ryella Royce somewhere, but she is from a minor branch. Also, seeing you and Jon, I have come to the conclusion that you sent me to foster at the Eyrie for a different reason than marriage. Even if I do not know yet why."
His son was watching Rickard. Ned's assessments were right for the most part, even if Rickard had bigger plans for Benjen than wedding him to Dacey Mormont. Rickard was surprised though; Ned did have a better head for the marriage web of the North than Rickard expected. But maybe that was attributable to Ashara by Ned's side. Such a keen eye would speak in her favor,
The support of the lord of the crannogmen was to Ned's boon as well and provided a small surprise to the lord of Winterfell. Few bannermen were as loyal as those of the crannogs, and the Reeds were held in high esteem throughout the North, even if they were reclusive.
Rickard's son had been preparing for this conversation, obviously. And yes, there had been deeper considerations for Ned's fosterage with House Arryn. The affection Jon now bore Rickard's son was only an added benefit. Still, Ned knowing the reasons could teach him a little.
"You are right, son. Your fosterage with the Andals served as a statement. I hear you sallied out against the mountain tribes, flying our banner. Seeing the direwolf ride against the clansmen was a symbolic measure to show a united front with the Valemen, as the tribes are the last pure First Man vestiges in the Vale.
"The Arryns have always remained suspicious that we Starks had informants among the tribes and supplied them in their cause. Your presence in the fight against the tribes assuaged these suspicions."
Suspicions which were true. The tribes were the Starks' informants, supplied through narrow passes only the mountain men knew and through shipments along the coast of the Bite by the crannogmen. Even now still, despite Ned riding against the clans, the Starks held their allegiance. Rickard had to strike a difficult balance and concessions had been made towards the tribes, payed in armor, weapons, and grain.
However, that was a discussion for when they were away from their current company, and only if Ashara was bound more firmly to their cause. So, right now, that information was irrelevant to the matter at hand.
"You've listed reasons against other marriages for yourself. Why should you not marry into the Reach for grain, or the Westerlands for gold? Janna Tyrell is said to be bountiful herself and will bring a bountiful harvest.
"And then there is Cersei Lannister. The Light of the West, supposedly as beautiful as your Ashara. She would bring us all the gold and power of the Rock. What does a marriage to Ashara bring us that a marriage to these other candidates doesn't?"
Ashara almost looked scared as Rickard talked to him, but then she had not been part of most of the discussions Ned had been in over the last few days. Cersei was a viable option, even if Janna was not. Ned though? Ned almost bristled at Rickard as he spoke and as he answered.
"None of them hold a candle to Shara or her beauty, and I have seen all three of them up close at the tourney at Harrenhal! But yes. Let us talk of what they could offer us.
"The Reach is a fool's investment right now, you said so yourself on our rides. Bountiful as Janna Tyrell may be, not all the grain in the world would be worth being drawn into the conflict in the Reach. But I guess that was just another of your tests, father."
Rickard had to concede that point, Janna Tyrell had never been an option. And from what Rickard knew, Janna Tyrell was to her wedded sister Mina Redwyne as Lysa Tully was to Catelyn Tully. Well, maybe not as about to be disgraced as Lysa, but a vapid twat none the less.
"As for the Lannisters," Ned continued, taking Rickard out of his thoughts, "we might make our beds with them against Aerys, but you cannot honestly tell me that you want Tywin Lannister to have a controlling influence on the future heir to the North. That is folly."
Ashara must have seen something in Rickard's face at that, for Ned's tirade came to an abrupt stop as his lover squeezed his hand. Ned looked almost timid at that.
"Father-. You cannot mean to-"
"I can, son!", Rickard interrupted Ned for the first time, a little irate, "your words just know? That reeked of sentimentality. Do you truly believe I would let Tywin Lannister have a controlling influence over you and your children in the North? I do not know if I should be insulted by that."
Rickard did not speak loudly. He had long learned that a quiet voice was more threatening than a raised one, and Ned was now learning the same. Rickard's son looked a little ashen at the thought.
"We can revisit Cersei later," Rickard pressed on, dragging Ned along, "for now, give me an argument for your marriage to Ashara. Not just arguments against your marriage to another."
Ned took a moment to recollect himself, and Rickard saw his son drawing strength from the woman beside him. As Ned started speaking again, his voice was steady. Good.
"A connection with Starfall gives us an entry to the Dornish market for timber, a good highly in demand in the desert. For the marriage contract we can negotiate for preferential treatment and port fees for Tallharts, Glovers, Mormonts, Manderlys and other Houses.
"We strengthen House Stark by strengthening our bannermen. They will thank us for that. It also has the added bonus of the development of the Town on the Torrentine, preparing it for a time when the Arbor and Oldtown get embroiled in the civil war and their harbors become too unsafe."
That was a rather good argument for a Dayne alliance aside from silly sentimentalities. The port of the Arbor would probably not be as imperiled as Oldtown. That would only be the case if the Redwyne fleet stood against the royal fleet on opposite sides.
However, as soon as the Arbor gained significance as a military command center for the navy, Northern timber could be seized on the Reachmen's docks for the war effort.
Starfall was a good option for southern trade relations. But it also had glaring disadvantages. Rickard caught himself in his own musings. The two lovers in front of Rickard were looking at him in growing trepidation. Rickard could not assuage that worry immediately. So, he laid out his largest misgiving:
"Starfall is a long way from home, Ned. We do not trade a lot that far south. The result might not be worth the effort."
Ned looked grim at Rickard's words, and Ashara was clutching Ned's arm so tight now that she was almost drawing blood. Rickard's son turned to look at his love, as if to find something in her face. Strength. Resolution. Rickard was not sure exactly, but it looked as if Ned found it.
Rickard saw as his son slowly untangled his hand from Ashara's to press a whisper of a kiss to her knuckles, more tender than any Rickard had ever seen. Then, Ned whispered something into the Lady's ear before she rose and slowly left. Ned looked after her, vulnerable and impenetrable at once.
"Brandon once… asked me to break his betrothal to Catelyn Tully, Ned. He wanted to wed Barbrey Ryswell. So, I asked Brandon, what could the Ryswells offer me, offer us, to rival the armies of the Riverlands and a bulwark against the Golden Tooth."
Rickard took over the conversation as soon as Ashara had stepped out of hearing range, speaking softly to his new heir.
"At that, Brandon should have questioned why I needed security from the Lannisters. He did not. Instead, Brandon spoke of love. He was fifteen. Fifteen. Brandon had no business speaking to me of love then. I denied him. Of course, I denied him.
"So, Ned, tell me. What does your marriage to Ashara Dayne offer me, offer us, that I should forego the chance of forging an alliance with Tywin Lannister through your marriage to his daughter Cersei?"
Rickard met his son's eyes, grey on grey, as steel on steel. Just for a moment, Ned looked… older. Wearied. Cold. Not as much as if something had broken in him, truly, more like something… cracked. Good. Ned talked, quietly. Almost too silent to understand. Ned did not look happy, then, as he talked.
"My marriage to Ashara will splinter the Dornish faction in the war to come, or at least sow the seeds of doubt in the Martells that the Daynes may not be loyal to their prince anymore. That would deny Dornish Spears free use of the Prince's Pass as the Martells cannot risk being held up in the Red Mountains. It might also make it easier for us to win over Dorne after the dust has settled."
Ned did not shrink away under Rickard's scrutiny. Rickard felt a grin steal onto his face, slowly, unstoppable. Predatory.
"That", Rickard answered Ned just as quietly, "is a good reason."
Rickard stayed silent after, once more. He could admit to himself, a marriage between Ned and Cersei Lannister carried risks. Risks not present in a union with Ashara. While House Dayne was an old one, they simply did not carry the power to rival House Stark in a true negotiation. With the Lannisters, larger concessions would have to be made. It would be a gamble, to offer Ned for Cersei. Still…
"Now is the time to bring up any more arguments for your suit, Ned."
"I love Ashara, father. I know that alone does not sway your opinion. But, between possibly marrying Cersei for a good reason, and definitely marrying Ashara for a good reason and for love, which brings House Stark more?"
"You would pursue desire over reason, Ned? The possibilities a marriage to Cersei Lannister bring, and the possibilities a marriage to Ashara bring, are incomparable. You know that."
"No, father. I would pursue desire over ambition."
Rickard waited. Weighed. Ned did not elaborate, did not need to. So, Rickard named his terms.
"You will continue learning to rule at my hand."
"I will, father."
"Until it comes the day that you assume my mantle, you will obey me in all I ask. You may disagree. You may complain. You may ask for forgiveness, after. But you will obey."
"I will, father. For Ashara, always."
There was a break in their conversation, and the silence was a harsh one. But it was not malignant.
"Fuck Hoster Tully. You have my blessing, Ned. We will send a first proposal from Riverrun, to Starfall and to Princess Elia for endorsement. I will also write a first draft of your marriage contract and send it with a few trusted riders south today. Now, you may go and bring your betrothed before me."
Ned did not thank Rickard profusely, no. Ned simply rose and returned shortly after with Ashara in tow, their lips almost scarlet.
"Daughter."
Rickard turned towards Ashara, who seemed almost ecstatic, no, giddy, as Rickard addressed her fondly. It was a stark contrast from his stern demeanor earlier, but Ashara was to be pack now, after all.
"Please write your own letter of endorsement for your betrothal to Eddard. I expect the wedding to happen as soon as possible, ideally before war breaks out across Westeros."
"Thank you. … Father?"
Ashara's reply was happy, yet tentative, as if she were trying out the new appellation for Rickard. At the fond smile she received in return Ashara's face almost burst. And when Ashara turned towards Ned, looking at Rickard's son in adoration, it just felt… right.
Rickard briefly wondered, if Brandon had been able to answer his questions adequately back then, would Rickard have broken the betrothal to the Tully daughter? Was there an adequate answer Brandon could have given, comparing the benefits of a Ryswell and a Tully wedding? Rickard did not know the answer himself, and it just felt… wrong.
The rest of the ride no one tried to approach the young couple, lost in their own world as Ned and Ashara were. Only little Rhaenys entered their little bubble without problems. The two even disappeared for a private lunch together at noon, and they looked properly mussed when they returned.
Rickard did send them a disapproving glare, but he was under no illusion about their relationship. Rickard was certain at that moment, though, that the wedding could not wait to be long after a few exchanged letters with Starfall and King's Landing.
The riders reached the outskirts of the village outside Riverrun before dusk and Rickard's guard alerted him to a man of the smallfolk expecting him. Perfect, just as planned. Rickard took Ned along with him to where the man was cordoned off with bread and salt by some of his guards.
Rickard's men-at-arms quickly vacated the premise and guarded the vicinity as soon as they saw Rickard approach. As they approached in their direwolf livery, the smallfolk man introduced himself to the Lord of Winterfell and his heir.
"I greet Cregan's get. I'm Tom."
"Cregan's get greets you, Tom. Who came to Riverrun for my son's wedding?"
Rickard regarded the old Riverman shortly. A fourth-generation seedling, by Rickard's estimation, probably one of the network leaders in the area. The man's name was definitely not Tom. He was dressed to look as non-descript as possible, smudged, and dirtied.
That could have been on purpose for this meeting, though, it was just as likely Tom's normal appearance owing to the side occupation Tom lead here. Maybe as a farmer, from the look of him. Tom continued speaking after he had been acknowledged, his sentences short and to the point.
"The Riverlords have arrived in force. Four surprises are among them. Old Man Walder himself came down from the Twins. Jason Mallister declined to be hosted by the trouts, he camps on the north of the Tumblestone. Lord Whent is not in attendance, his wife is.
"One of us Cregan's Men rode in Lady Whent's retinue, she showed herself the real power in Harrenhal. Word from the castle is, she had a break with Hoster. The Blackfish is on her side, though, and Lord Blackwood may have joined the Lady's camp. Though, Blackwood seems to be not entirely entrenched, yet."
Those news were… interesting. Jason Mallister stayed his hand at Rickard's recommendation and Jeffory's endorsement. Walder Frey could prove a pox to anyone. Stevron Frey alone would have been preferable, but as troublesome as the Lord of the Crossing could be, he was not stupid.
A public break between House Whent and House Tully, though… This was either about Lysa, in which case the Lady Whent could probably be exploited, or there was a deeper game afoot.
With the lady making a power play here, Rickard wondered if she would send someone to approach him now that Rickard had entered the field. Her family was not to be discounted, despite the Whents' recent rise to power.
Harren Hoare had chosen the location for his castle wisely back in the day. Even if the Whents had not held Harrenhal for long, the lands belonging to them were fertile and strategically important. Harrenhal also fielded one of the bigger armies of the Riverlands. Lady Whent presented an unknown in the wider game; and unknowns were always the most dangerous.
Lord Blackwood attaching himself to the Lady of Harrenhal was not a surprise, though. With Stone Henge on one side of Blackwood lands, only a fool would suffer an enemy behind them as well. Tytos Blackwood not being a fool was neither a threat nor a boon yet, though it could develop to be either.
Still, the domestic Riverlords were the less important guests to the wedding. Which ones of the big players had arrived? Tom continued as Rickard motioned him to go on.
"We have some surprise guests from outside the Riverlands. Lord Lannister has arrived with a sizeable retinue of family and lords."
"Which ones?" Rickard interrupted Tom shortly, who then elaborated on the information.
"Lord Kevan was not amongst the Lannister host, however, Lord Tywin's sister Lady Genna Frey and his third brother Lord Tygett are with him. Lord Emmon Frey has joined host of his father Walder Frey, even as his wife Genna stayed with her brother.
"Lord Westerling has joined Tywin together with his wife's family, though so far, we have not been able to ascertain if House Spicer has a larger objective at play here. Leffords, Baneforts and Crakehalls have sent heirs and second sons, but no ruling lord to accompany the host.
"The Westerland Houses have taken up residence at the Running River Inn on the edge of the village and rented out the entirety of their rooms."
Tywin, Genna and Tygett. Tywin, the strategic mastermind; Genna, his political silk gloves, Tygett, his primary military tactician. Rickard expected an interesting and hopefully fruitful discussion with the Lord of Casterly Rock.
Of the other major lord currently amongst the Westerland host, Lord Westerling, Rickard knew only little. Oh, Rickard was aware that the Westerling House continued its decline under the man's rule, and that Lord Westerling had married the daughter of a merchant's house just recently elevated to nobility.
However, it bothered Rickard that he knew even less about this House Spicer than House Westerling. Up-jumped merchants, new money. Not that there was anything bad about that, but those types were unlikely to be subtle players of the game.
The problem of their kind was that you could always make big waves with enough money. Sometimes, those waves revealed the true monsters hidden in the deep. Even without a foundation, Rickard intended to keep an eye on House Spicer. Tom talked on.
"There have been a few smaller Houses of the Reach arriving, but they all follow in the wake of either the heir to Hightower or Lord Florent. The Tyrells are absent save for a few knights from minor branches in the retinue of Lord Baelor. Apparently, Lady Alerie is having a third child and the matriarch of the roses has decided against leaving her son alone to travel here."
Tom hesitated after saying this. The news were rather interesting, and knowing of Lord Mace Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns probably did choose the prudent option in staying behind. Leaving the man without supervision when a war could start any moment could be recipe for a disaster. Only spies from her, then.
Still, did Baelor Hightower come on the command of the Tyrells, or did Lord Leyton go independent? Maybe on the advice of Leyton's uncle Gerold, as well. Something to talk with Walys about, Winterfell's Maester despised his mother's House. Rickard's informant still seemed to be on the fence about something, Tom only spoke again on Rickard's urging.
"There was a big upset just yesterday when the Ironborn emerged from the Whispering Wood in force. Quellon Greyjoy knocked on the gates together with his three eldest sons and the lords or heirs to Blacktyde, Drumm, Goodbrother, Harlaw, Orkwood and Saltcliffe. Such a wealth of Ironborn nobility has not entered the Riverlands at once since the days of Harren the Black."
Unsettling. Rickard did not know what to make of that. What did the kraken want, ever grasping? Rickard knew one thing, the Ironborn were not invited by House Tully. Hoster's lords would be in open rebellion now if that were the case. Should Rickard approach the Lord Reaper of Pyke, or wait for the man to come to him?
Rickard had heard good things of Quellon Greyjoy, and the man had proved a smart steward to his people. More restrained, more in control, more intelligent than the Reapers before him. More dangerous. Another asset or another threat.
By now, Tom was fidgeting in his place. Despite probably having been an informant since before the Ninepenny Wars, nothing of such import had happened in the Riverlands during that time. Tom had likely gleaned to understand the game a little, and the man knew something was approaching.
Ironborn in the Riverlands. Madness. Rickard could read it all in Tom's face. The man was afraid for his life, uncertain of the future and presented with many a sign of danger. But he was Rickard's man, so Rickard spoke to ease his worries.
"Tom. A war is coming, and it will be fought throughout the Seven Kingdoms. I do not know what the Ironborn want. I have an idea what Lord Lannister wants. I know for certain what Hoster Tully wants. I will know more before I leave here, and I will tell you what is safe for you to know then. You have been loyal to the Starks; the Starks are loyal to you.
"If Hoster Tully goes to war in the Riverlands within the year, follow him unless he goes against known allies of mine. For now, that means House Mallister. I fear with the Reachmen here; Lord Tully will try to meddle in the south.
"But, if Hoster Tully intends to cross the Goldroad, he will lead most soldiers following him to their deaths. Abandon him if he does so, and come North if you are discovered with your network. The descendants of Cregan's host will be given a hero's welcome when they return North after more than 150 years of leal service."
"Thank you, my lord. Is there any other way I and mine can be of service?", Tom replied relieved.
"Yes", Rickard answered, handing Tom a letter and a bag of gold dragons, "this letter details information regarding Lady Lysa Tully's recent abortion, forced on her by her father. Starting tomorrow at noon I want your men to spread the truth in all the brothels and wine sinks and inns around.
"My guards have informed your brothers in all other parts of the Riverlands, the northern Reach and the western Crownlands to do the same. Soon, the whole realm will know. That is all.
"Cregan's get thanks you for your service."
Rickard released the Cregan's Man before him with the customary dismissal, and received the customary reply.
"I thank Cregan's get for the fire in my hearth in winter."
Tom disappeared quietly soon after, taking the letter and the gold with him. Rickard would see him again before he left. Now it was time to meet the other players.
One of Rickard's senior guards was sent to Riverrun to inform the Tullys that Rickard would not enter their keep before noon the next day. The guard was to tell Hoster explicitly that 'the advance warning was meant to give the Tullys time to prepare for the reception of Rickard, his heir Ned, and his other son Brandon the groom'.
Rickard and Ned reconvened with Jon at camp. They agreed to head for the Running River Inn at once, with Elbert coming along as well and a few guards of both House Arryn and House Stark for protection.
The men-at-arms the four met along their way were mostly clad in red and gold, and there were more and more soldiers the closer they got to the inn. There was one very notable exception between all the Lannister men, though.
A tall Ironborn was standing not 50 feet away from the inn where the Lannisters dwelled, with two men holding the golden kraken banner of House Greyjoy behind him. The man was tall, grey of hair and beard and with a scar splitting his mouth vertically in two.
Dagmer Cleftjaw in all his glory, the second most famed and dreaded man of the Iron Islands alive, only surpassed by his liege. And now he stood directly in Rickard's path towards the lions' den. As soon as he saw them Dagmer addressed the falcons and wolves on their horses.
"Lord Stark and company," the man said with a curtsy that was neither practiced nor easy.
The move looked comical on the giant. Rickard wondered which of Dagmer's companions had told Dagmer to perform a curtsy. Rickard had to fight to keep up a straight face at the sight.
While it was likely that whoever had told Dagmer to curtsy instead of bow had played a joke on Dagmer, it would not surprise Rickard either if the Ironborn simply did not know that only women curtsied. Either way, Dagmer obviously did like being here, scraping before Rickard and Jon, scraping before anyone.
"I am Dagmer Cleftjaw, envoy of the Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands. Quellon Greyjoy, the Lord Reaper of Pyke, invites you to speak with him at your convenience, my Lords Stark and Arryn. You will be welcomed at our camp with bread and salt."
The man, having said his piece, turned to leave. Clever of the kraken. But sending a mouthpiece with limited instructions and limited diplomatic capability was as much surrendering initiative as grasping it.
No matter if Quellon Greyjoy knew how to play the game, if his subordinates could not, it simply was not enough. And the Lord Reaper did not sit in a position of sufficient power to command the Warden of the North and the Warden of the East. A reminder, then, and a show of strength. Rickard Stark did not suffer to let Dagmer Cleftjaw leave in silence.
"Captain Cleftjaw. I will be speaking with Lord Lannister now, but I am willing to speak with your liege immediately after. At mine and Lord Arryn's camp. Two of our guards will join you back to your host and accompany Lord Quellon and his advisors to our tents."
Dagmer turned around again at Rickard's words, but he was not given the chance to retort. Spurring on his horse, Rickard continued talking in passing.
"As Lord Quellon will be forced to wait for us at our camp, our men will organize the most lavish food possible on such notice, and entertainment from the village as Lord Quellon requires. We look forward to seeing him later."
At that Rickard had ridden past the stunned Ironman, leaving Rickard's and Jon' guards to organize themselves to his specification. The man-at-arms rotated into their positions with practiced ease as Rickard, Jon, Ned, and Elbert swiftly dismounted and entered the inn. Dagmer Cleftjaw did not have time to reply.
The inn was lit by the warm light of four hearths. Westerland nobility filled the halls. Rickard spied some soldiers of higher military standing on some of the tables, keeping apart from the more lavishly dressed lords and sers. A few ladies were scattered throughout the hall.
Above the others sat Tywin Lannister, the Old Lion of the Rock, with his brother Tygett and his sister Genna on either side of him.
Tygett Lannister sat ramrod straight in his under armor, consisting of a chainmail byrnie cut like a shirt with a cloth cover in red and gold to fit a formal dinner table. He wore an unadorned sword by his side in a blank sheath, hanging over a pair of painted but sturdy boiled leather breeches. Tygett's boots though were standard issue plate; the same armor Rickard saw on the feet of the Lannister shoulders.
The younger Lannister brother's eyes were on Rickard already as he entered the room and the wolf lord saw a muscle twitch in his body before his brother Tywin looked up to regard him. Genna Lannister's eyes found the group not a second after her brother's, however, her movements seemed entirely smooth and natural as if she had always meant to look towards the entrance in that second.
Whereas Tygett's posture screamed of discipline and training and Genna's languid ease belied a keen political mind, Tywin's body gave nothing away except perfect control.
While Genna Lannister's body at 37 was overflowing from her crimson gown in all the right places and her long hair flowed freely across her shoulders, her elder and younger brother both cut an entirely different look, even as Tywin and Tygett shared a few styling choices.
Both men kept their golden blonde hair in a close military crop, and both did not sit against their chair's back.
All three pairs of Lannister eyes had directed their green glare upon Rickard, but where Genna's were of controlled warmth and Tygett's were of controlled cool, Tywin's eyes were of controlled apathy, giving nothing away.
The lion lord himself wore a noble's doublet hinting at a muscular body with broad shoulders and firm waist. More red than gold, and the bloodiest red Rickard had ever seen. While his brother Tygett was clean shaven, Tywin Lannister wore immaculately trimmed sideburns.
Not a full beard as magnificent as Rickard, true, but the man did look razor sharp and as dangerous as the edge that must have cut him.
Tywin Lannister did not even need to speak to get the hall to quiet down. He merely knocked against the stein in front of him with the golden sigil ring on his right hand. Silence spread out in a wave from the high table and all men turned to the lord above them.
"Leave."
A single word from Tywin Lannister and all the people high and low left the hall quickly and orderly. Rickard could not help being impressed, and he could feel both Ned and Elbert tensing up in their group. Jon stayed calm while the horde of Westermen parted around them to leave the hall.
Already before everything around them was empty did Rickard start walking towards the raised dais, not willing to wait until Tywin would call their group over. On the high table there were already four empty chairs standing opposite the three Lannisters.
Tywin had been prepared for them. Rickard sat down opposite the man and was pleased to find both bread and salt waiting for him and his companions. They all partook in silence.
"Your letter from the capital was a very welcome present, Lord Rickard. I had been appalled to hear how our king has treated you during your visit there. Not surprised, merely appalled. I am curious about your invitation to your son's wedding. I do hope you have something more pertinent to talk about though than Lord Eddard replacing his brother to be the new groom."
Tywin did not even deign to great them, as if his words were too precious to waste on such frivolities. The old lion shortly let his eyes linger on Rickard's son, though he barely spared Elbert Arryn a glance. Tywin's voice was the same as his poise, controlled, and polished sharp like a blade. Rickard replied with just as cutting a voice, cold and biting like winter winds.
"I highly doubt any betrothal between the trouts and mine will survive until tomorrow afternoon. For you, however, that is largely irrelevant, Lord Tywin. I have not asked you to come to primarily speak of marriage. I have been slighted and betrayed by our king. The whole realm knows you have been slighted and betrayed by our king. Maybe it is time he stops being our king."
Both Genna and Tygett seemed caught off guard for a second upon Rickard's blunt words. Not Tywin, though. Tywin just looked at Rickard, controlled like always. When Tywin finally spoke, it almost seemed like he was threatening to sneer at them.
"And who is supposed to rule us if not the mad dragon? The prince, who to your benefit took off with your daughter? The stag lord, who is betrothed to your daughter through claim of blood? Why should I put your grandchild on the Iron Throne, Stark? Why risk my soldiers fighting your war?"
Tywin Lannister was always controlled. That served well in discussions, mostly. Some people dealt better with displaying the right emotion when called for. Where Tywin muted his sneer a little while talking of the Targaryens, Rickard did not bother to stifle his snarl as he spoke.
"I will not suffer the man who abducted my daughter to hold real power before he dies at my ministration. I will not leave a single dragon in power after they threatened to burn me and strangle my son. Why should I elevate a Baratheon on claim of blood to be my overlord when it is his dragon blood I despise?"
Rickard turned to the side simply to spit out as if he had bitten on ash to emphasize his point.
"No. The Iron Throne. The Seven Kingdoms. Nine provinces. One royal dynasty. Five up jumped families fashioning themselves our equals for three hundred years. What are they to us? The Tyrells, the Tullys, the Greyjoys, the Baratheons. The Targaryens. What are they to us? What are they to us?
"I say we see them spend themselves warring each other, and after they either bend to us or they will be obliterated. I say it is time the unified Seven Kingdoms are at their end. We bide our time for the lizards to kill each other and redraw the borders of the Reach, the Riverlands, the Crownlands and more. You tried to make your daughter queen. I will give you more.
"What say you, Tywin Lannister, King of the Rock?"
Rickard did not need to raise his voice. It did not do to scream of treason. Rickard knew the three he brought with him to remain impassive as he spoke. Genna looked at him intrigued as Tygett was sizing him up a second time. Tywin, though? Tywin was given Rickard a tightly wound smile.
"I say we have lots to talk about, King in the North, things great and terrible."
And they did. They talked for hours before Rickard left for the krakens he had invited into his camp. During the entire time they talked, Tywin continued wearing his threatening smile.
Style shift for the first part of the chapter, followed by lots of setting up.
It's going down next chapter. Wooohooo.
Also, adorable Rhaenys is adorable, intimidating Tywin is intimidating and the Great Ned is great.