Brynden
It seemed a thousand years ago that Brynden Tully had left Riverrun with his sword and mail, crossing the Tumblestone in a small boat to begin his journey east to the Eyrie with his niece. And it was across the Tumblestone that they came home now, though now they came back for the marriage of her daughter.
Brynden stood in the bow of the boat, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword as the rowers pulled at their oars. Lords Yohn Royce and Hunter was with him. His niece had gone in the first boat with her lord husband and their children, young Robert and sweet Alyssa. Lord Robert and his family set forth on the second boat and Brynden followed them in the third.
They shot down the Tumblestone, letting the strong current push them past the looming WheelTower. The splash and rumble of the great waterwheel within was a sound from his youth when he was still the same young knight who fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings, who used to regale the tales to his sweet nieces and nephew. That brought a sad smile to Brynden's face. From the sandstone walls of the castle, soldiers and servants looked down on them. From every rampart waved the banner of House Tully: a leaping trout, silver, against a rippling blue-and-red field. Though it was a black trout which defined the legend Brynden Tully it was still a stirring sight, silver or black he is still a Tully. Yet the sight did not made him feel whole and home.
Below the WheelTower, they made a wide turn and knifed through the churning water. The men put their backs into it. The wide arch of the Water Gate came into view, and he heard the creak of heavy chains as the great iron portcullis was winched upward for the incoming boats. It rose slowly as they approached, and Brynden saw that the lower half of it was red with rust. The bottom foot dripped brown mud on them as they passed underneath, the barbed spikes mere inches above their heads. Brynden gazed up at the bars and wondered how deep the rust went and how well the portcullis would stand up to a ram and whether it ought to be replaced. Thoughts like that were seldom far from his mind these days.
They passed beneath the arch and under the walls, moving from sunlight to shadow and back into sunlight. Boats large and small were tied up all around them, secured to iron rings set in the stone. His brother waited with his son for them on the water stair surrounded by his guards. Lord Hoster Tully had always been a big man; tall and broad. His hair and beard had been brown and well streaked with grey the last time he'd seen him, now they had completely turned to white. Hoster looked lordly as ever, in a quilted doublet of red wool with a leaping trout embroidered on his chest. His boots were black, his breeches blue. His nephew was the one who surprised him the most. The small boy who used to pester him for the tales of glory had grown into a stocky young man with a shaggy head of auburn hair and a fiery beard. At his brother's side stood the Lord Tytos Blackwood, a hard pike of a man with close-cropped salt-and-pepper whiskers and a hook nose. His bright yellow armor was inlaid with jet in elaborate vine-and-leaf patterns, and a cloak sewn from raven feathers draped his thin shoulders. Half a dozen of his brother's lords were at his side as well and Brynden knew them all, Lord Jonos Bracken thick of arms and shoulders, with coarse brown hair and brown eyes, Lord Vance, Lord Jason Mallister, with his gaunt and chiseled face, his blue-grey eyes fierce as ever, Lord Clement Piper, short and fat with red hair thick as bush and Ser Desmond Grell and Ser Robin Ryger stood at the head of the guards.
"Bring them in," Lord Hoster commanded. Brynden could see the Lord who named him as the 'black goat of Tully flock', the man who made him as Brynden the Blackfish at that not the brother he'd thought to see. He was afraid that his brother would still hate him even now for refusing his orders to marry. He still remembered the quarrels they both had throughout his youth, all came with the talks of his marriage.
Three men scrambled down the stairs knee-deep in the water and pulled the boats close with long hooks.
Hoster came down the steps to receive them. "My lords," hesaid sternly. "Riverrun welcomes you."
"Lord Hoster," Lord Jon said nodding his head.
His brother moved to his younger daughter Lysa. Despite their fallout in the thing with the Baelish boy, both of them shared a strong embrace.
Brynden stayed back all the while his brother went on to greet the other lords. His brother greeted his grandchildren, hugging Robert Arryn the same way he used to hug Edmure when he was little, pausing a little while looking at Alyssa before hugging her as well, no doubt he remembered Catelyn by seeing her after all even Brynden remembered his oldest niece by looking at her. One by one his brother greeted his guests, Lord Robert Baratheon and his family gradually making his way to him. Brynden fought the urge to hide from him again, to jump into the river and to swim far away from him. But before he could do so his brother's eyes found him stopping his entire thoughts. Hoster walked towards him and stood right in front of him.
His brother looked from his thick grey hair to his wet boots and then back at his face. "I see that you haven't married yet," Hoster said, stern and hard as always when they would talk about his marriage.
Brynden stayed silent afraid that his brother would be angry at anything he has to say. He looked up straight at Hoster's blue eyes. His brother gave a small smirk at him. "You haven't changed a bit, brother," Hoster smiled and hugged him fiercely. Brynden was shocked for a moment at his brother's behaviour. He'd expected him to curse him and chase him away from Riverrun instead Hoster called him a brother and Brynden found himself wondering how much he had missed that word 'brother.' He replied with a hug of his own. "It's good to see you brother."
"It's good to see you too," His brother said when they parted away from the embrace. He looked at him again "Ever the warrior," his brother touched the obsidian and gold pin fashioned in the form of a fish which clasped his cloak, "And ever the blackfish of the Tullys."
Brynden smiled at that and looked at his nephew and shared a hug. See Desmond was the next one to greet him. "Welcome back to Riverrun, my lord," the master at arms of Riverrun hugged him with a smile.
"Thank you, Ser Desmond," Brynden told him smiling.
Ser Robin Ryger was the next one. "It's good to see you again Ser Brynden," The captain of Riverrun's guards said giving him a strong hug.
"Its good to see you too Ser Robin," Brynden said.
The lords of the Riverlands came next. All the ones there with his brother and Brynden greeted them all. When the pleasantries were done they went inside the castle. He looked at his home taking note of everything. The castle had never changed much. He met with the people of Riverrun, with Maester Vyman, with the steward Utherydes Wayn and all the others he had known in his time at Riverrun.
The sun was already getting down when his settling with Riverrun's people was done. He should need to get ready for his grand niece's wedding. He would want a bath. He asked a servant to bring the hot water for his bath and then walked back to his old chambers. His things were already there, his plate and mail and the clothes. He was looking at the Tumblestone running below through the window when the servants brought the hot water for his bath.
The water had gone warm by the time Brynden climbed into his bath. He enjoyed the feeling of the warm water against his skin after so many days now. When he finished his bath, he donned his fresh clothes for the marriage, a black velvet doublet with a leaping black trout on the chest. He pulled on his boots after the black leather breeches.
The walk to the Sept of Riverrun was a short one. The Sept at Riverrun was a seven-sided sandstone building which sat amidst the gardens of the late Lady of Riverrun, Minisa Tully, Hoster's wife and his good sister. His goodsister had loved the gardens spending her times walking among the flowers and plants, so his brother had ordered for it to be built. The Sept was already filled with the Riverlords, the Stormlords and the Valemen. But it wasn't the men who caught the eyes of him, it was a man with a short stature who caught his eyes. So the Old Lion has finally started to act, by sending his dwarf son, thought Brynden looking at Tyrion Lannister talking with his disappointed sister, flanked by two men with lion crested helms and red cloaks.
Inside Gendry Baratheon stood before the image of the Father painted on marble. The candle light caught in the mirrors and a rainbow of light filled the sept. Young Lord Gendry looked so much like his father Lord Robert, tall with a face which would quicken the hearts of the maidens in the entire Seven Kingdoms. He had worn the highest standards of clothes, no doubt the choice of his proud mother. His family had taken their place to the right of the raised alter. Lord Robert stood first resplendent in black and gold, his long black hair tied back. His lady wife, Cersei Lannister stood beside him radiant and splendid in her gown of crimson and gold, a chain of emeralds around her slender white neck. The Lioness had her daughter near her. Argella Baratheon looked so much like her mother even with the black hair and blue eyes of her father. In a gown of woven gold Argella Baratheon outmatched even her mother. From the looks to her grace everything shouted of Cersei Lannister though the little lady had an easy way with the others unlike the daughter of Tywin Lannister, Brynden thought looking at Argella Baratheon giggling at one of her dwarf uncle's comments. With the golden hair and green eyes of his mother, the youngest of Robert Baratheon's children was not worthy of notice unlike his siblings. And Brynden found it the way the boy looked bored even before the start of his own brother's marriage. He looked as if he couldn't wait to leave it for all.
His own family and the Arryns stood to the left. His brother stood at the head, his clothing of red and blue velvet stood out amongst the crowd. Edmure had taken the next place waiting for his marriage. It would come sooner than not. Hoster was desperately trying to find a good match for him. Lysa had taken the next place. At least tonight his niece took to smile, Brynden thought glad that she had chosen to drop her unhappy wife's face at her daughter's marriage. Her son flanked her. Brynden moved past the lords and took his place next to his grand nephew. Robert Arryn gave him a smile when he saw him, the same one he would give him every morning when he comes to him for his training. His brother gave him a look which said everything he had to say. Brynden knew very well what his brother had wanted to say. He ignored the look and smiled at his grand nephew and waited for the ceremony to begin.
The ceremony started shortly when Jon Arryn brought his daughter into the sept. Alyssa looked a vision in her gown of ivory samite and cloth-of-silver, lined with silvery satin, sewn with threads so thin that it looked as if she had worn a cloth of glass. On the chest was a blue falcon, big with its wings spread and faced upward, made with sapphires sewn into the gown which shone so bright that it almost defeated the rainbow lights inside the sept. Her maiden's cloak was a white velvet, heavy with pearls for the crescent moon with a falcon woven onto it with skyblue thread.
Brynden thought about the a marriage he had seen here before. They had arrived to this same sept after a ceremony at Riverrun's Godswood before the weirwood tree. His niece had been full of life and happy that day very much like her husband. But the happy marriage only stood long enough to join them in death even before their wedding life began and he desperately wished for this marriage to stand till the end unlike that.
The wedding ceremony passed quickly with the vows and prayers and the songs. Soon they reached the part of changing of cloaks. Lord Arryn unclasped his daughter's maiden's cloak and left with a kiss to his daughter's cheek. Gendry Baratheon cloaked Alyssa with a heavy cloth-of-gold cloak, with the crowned stag of Baratheon worked upon its back in beads of onyx.
When Alyssa was cloaked in the Baratheon colors she turned to face her husband. "With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband."
"With this kiss I pledge my love," Gendry Baratheon replied, "and take you for my lady and wife." They leaned forward towards each other, and their lips touched briefly.
The wedding feast was held in the Great Hall. Gendry and Alyssa had taken the high place. The families and the other lords filled up the Hall. The marriage had brought most of the lords to Riverrun. The feast was exotic with foods rich in flavour. Brynden tasted only a little of the food Riverrun's cooks had made for the feast. He had a piece of honeyed chicken and a seared trout with a apricot tart for the dessert.
The tables were cleared to make room for the dance floor. When the musicians began to play Gendry and Alyssa led the dance. Looking at them Brynden thought about the dance Cat had with her husband years before. He had desperately wanted her to be happy. His brother had made the match for House Tully's advantage but Brynden had wanted his niece to have a husband she loved and a life she wanted. That she did but the Targaryens took it away from her. Looking at Gendry and Alyssa having their first dance as a married couple he could only think about the justice for his niece.
Author's Notes: Hi guys, another chapter. Hope you like it guys. Some good old reunion and a wedding. Things will be rolling over fastly hereafter, hopefully my writing as well. I'll try to bring the next chapter out as fast as I can. Until then, see you guys. Good DAY.