The idea of an ascetic Warrior's Day didn't appeal to the entirety of the court. Even Septon Barth thought it a little excessive.
"The point of the Seven Days – except for Stranger's Day – is that they are festive," he said. "It would look extremely strange if the court doesn't join in the merriment."
"Anyone who wishes to celebrate can do so in the city," said Alaric. "We will only hold a moderate feast at the tourney on Warrior's Eve."
"The smallfolk will be delighted if we announce that we have decided to forego the merrymaking ourselves so that the citizens could have a grander celebration," Alarra added. "Which is kind of the truth, isn't it? You are going to pay for the mummers' room and board with that money."
In truth, Alarra was rather sad that there wouldn't be any ball at the Red Keep. When King Jaehaerys was alive, each of the seven sacred days (except for Stranger's, of course) was celebrated at least in some way – with a ball, or a masque, or a hunt. But Father said they had already spent too much on the wedding, so the tourney would be the only grand event to mark the day at court.
"Do we really need to save money that badly, my lady?" Alarra asked Lady Tyrell just after Father and Alysanne told her about their Warrior's Day plans.
"I wouldn't say that, Lady Stark," Lady Tyrell said after thinking for a while. "The royal treasury and the treasury of King's Landing are both stocked well. However, it's true that we still are on our way towards summer and haven't had a proper harvest yet, so ever since the start of the winter most of the income had arrived from taxes, while a lot of money has been spent. I am almost sure it's nothing the upcoming summer can't fix and your lord father is being, begging your pardon, way too cautious. On the other hand... I can see where he's going with it. There is a risk the summer would be too rainy or too short, or that there would be some flood or drought or some other disaster..."
"But there's always such a risk!" Alarra exclaimed.
"Right now, we must be prepared for it more than ever. The Shivers drained the treasuries greatly, and later we had the funerals for the Conciliator and Princess Daenerys, the coronation of His Grace, and then Her Grace's wedding... Thanks to King Jaehaerys's skillful ruling, we still have more than enough money – but now His Grace is still a boy, and the pestilence had shaken the realm, so it would be a good course to be a bit less open-handed at least until summer."
And in summer, Father will probably say that winter is coming and we need to save our supplies, Alarra thought. She loved and respected her Father, she truly did, but she didn't want the court to be turned into a somber place more akin to the Wall.
However, she didn't voice any argument. Father and Alysanne were already anxious enough about the success of The Royal Penance and Lord Rogar's upcoming visit and everything else – they didn't need her arguing with them on top of it. Among the things Alarra had learned during her time at court was the skill of quietly standing in the shadow whenever everyone's nerves were on edge.
As Warrior's Day approached, it was even sort of exciting to oversee the preparations – the rough white robes to wear and the bread, water and simple vegetables for the meals. It was also the first event Alarra helped organize in her official capacity as the Queen's stepdaughter, and it felt fun and a bit weird that everyone was now bowing to her more deeply and addressing her more respectfully than before, when she was just one of the ladies-in-waiting.
The tourney on Warrior's Eve was much less grandiose than the one at Father's wedding to Alysanne. There was only the joust, and even that only for the anointed knights. Furthermore, most of the participants were from the crownlands and regions in their vicinity, because few knights from distant lands were willing to travel all the way to King's Landing again so soon.
Still, a large crowd gathered to watch it, and Aemon and Baelon were, naturally, beside themselves with joy, watching the knights arrive with rapt attention. Alarra's own heart skipped a beat when she saw Ser Mandon Chelsted, the comely dark-haired knight who wore her favor at the wedding tourney. He caught her eye and smiled at her; he really had a lovely smile.
As he rode to their stand to bow to Aemon and Mother, he also bowed to her.
"May I be so bold as to ask for your favor once more, Lady Stark?" he asked.
"Yes, Ser, you may," she answered happily as she gave it to him, feeling blood rush to her cheeks. Asking for a favor once meant little, but twice in a row... it was definitely a sign of interest. She felt really sorry there wouldn't be a ball tomorrow.
Alaric watched the knight in green and white join the rest of the competitors. His daughter was beaming as her eyes followed him too.
"What's House Chelsted like?" he whispered to Alysanne.
"Noble house, the crownlands. Loyal bannermen – actively supported Aegon and Rhaena, and later Jaehaerys, against Maegor from the start. Own a nice bit of land close to the riverlands. Ser Mandon's the heir, seventeen years old, unwed and not promised to anyone," Alysanne explained promptly.
"Alarra is only thirteen."
"I was married at her age," Alysanne chuckled. He didn't find that amusing, and his face probably showed it, because she quickly added:
"But nobody's saying anything about marriage right now. Alarra can easily afford to wait as long as she pleases."
It was still disconcerting for him. Alarra was a fucking child, and Ser Chelsted was clearly after her eight-thousand-year-old Stark bloodline, her relation to the Targaryens, and the rich dowry Alysanne would certainly give her. But, when one thought of it, all of Alarra's future suitors would be pursuing her for her status and wealth first of all, with her actual character and looks a welcome addition at best. Not everyone was as lucky as Alaric himself, who married for love both times. Alysanne, he reminded himself bitterly, didn't enter her second marriage of her own will.
Ser Chelsted was trying hard to impress Alarra (and probably him and Alysanne as well). Or maybe he got luckier than at the previous tourney. Or maybe he was simply improving his skills. Or maybe, with the smaller number of participants, there was less competition. Either way, he ended up in third place – not bad for a boy who never saw real combat before.
After the small, purely nominal feast (only ten courses) that followed the tourney, Alaric insisted he and Alysanne should speak with the young knight.
"My daughter is too young to be courted," he said to Ser Chelsted.
"I beg your forgiveness, my lord. Since Your Grace," he bowed his head to Alysanne, "was wed at thirteen, I did not think it improper to show my interest in Lady Stark."
Jaehaerys, I hate you, Alaric thought.
"There were reasons of a political nature that demanded I marry urgently," Alysanne explained. "No such urgency is necessary for my sweet daughter. For at least another two or three years, she is not to be viewed as a potential bride. After that time passes, I will be glad to see you present your suit."
"Yes, Your Grace," Ser Chelsted nodded.
"Alarra will only be married if the wedlock is sealed in a godswood," Alaric added. "If you don't venerate the old gods, I am afraid I can't accept you as a good-son."
"I understand, my lord. There is a godswood in Cheldon – our castle."
There was nothing in particular Alaric could say against the boy after their talk. Mandon Chelsted agreed to wait for three years, although Alysanne allowed him to ask Alarra for her favor at the upcoming tourneys, just so that she remained aware of his interest. The house's seat had a godswood. Everything was perfectly right.
It's just that... Alarra's always been the kid in the family, Alaric thought wistfully. Born ten years after Roderick and seven years after Edwyn, without the burden of inheriting the title and the lands, Alarra was always the little girl to be cared for and protected. Even now, when she was a responsible lady-in-waiting and a big sister to Aemon and Baelon, Alaric couldn't help but look at her and see the merry child running across the streets of the winter town. Discussing her marriage felt surreal, though he realized that Ser Chelsted was simply an early bird and in two or three years, the court will be swarmed with Alarra's suitors.
Early in the morning, Alysanne led her retinue to the sept. In some cities, they didn't allow women to enter septs on Warrior's Day, but with Alysanne's sworn shield being Jonquil Darke, it would have been hard to argue for the same rule to be kept in King's Landing.
At first Father wasn't planning to go to the sept, but somehow Alysanne managed to persuade him to do so.
"It's Warrior's Day," she explained. "People will be expecting to see every man who isn't a maester in attendance. Even bedridden old men and invalids go to the septs to pray for their strength to be restored or at least to have enough strength to defend their home in time of need."
Usually, even before Alysanne's wedding with Father, Alarra took precedence among the queen's companions, by virtue of her coming from a Great House (Lady Lucinda Tully used to lead the retinue whenever she visited King's Landing, but she died of the Shivers two years ago – Alarra had barely known her). Today, though, the train of the ladies-in-waiting was led by Lady Darke – as a fighter, she didn't don the rough white robes and was instead clad in her tourney armor, scarlet as the setting sun. Even now, with three Kingsguard knights attending Alysanne, Lady Darke was constantly sending alert glances in her direction.
At the sept, Septon Barth led the service, asking the Warrior to inspire strength, courage and loyalty "in everyone who wields the sword and stands against a foeman's blade". It used to be "every man", Septon Barth had once explained to Alarra, but the High Septon and the Most Devout made the amendment ten years ago, after Alysanne's companions heroically saved her from assassins in Maidenpool: Lady Rosamund Ball, who was mortally wounded defending the queen, was from the Reach, so they decided to hold the funerary service in the Starry Sept, and after some deliberation, the Most Devout decided the poor girl died a warrior's death and should therefore be given the appropriate funeral – that's how the prayers to the Warrior got a bit redone.
Septon Barth said specific litanies for King Aemon and Prince Baelon (each of the boys lit a large candle), then for the Kingsguard, then for Lady Darke, then for "all the valiant fighters of the realm", and finally for those who had fallen in honest battles since the dawn of time. Even though Alarra (Father's instructions before she left the North were very strict) only prayed in the godswood, she loved hearing the entire crowd in attendance join in the litanies.
Then it was time for the king to say his personal prayer – but, since Aemon was still too small for a long speech, just like last year, Alysanne was to say the majority of it and Aemon only to finish the last couple of lines.
After the expected thanks and supplications that generally echoed the ones spoken by Septon Barth, Alysanne suddenly said:
"It might not be the usual day for such an announcement, but I believe that refraining to give one's thanks to the Seven as early as possible is more sinful than not waiting to do so until Mother's Day, which isn't for another five moons. My dear people, I have been blessed in my marriage to Lord Stark. Grand Maester Elysar has confirmed I am with child again, for which I am abundantly grateful," and she knelt first in front of the Warrior's statue, then in front of the statue of the Mother.
The crowd exploded into chaotic cheers, but Septon Barth quickly took control and started a new litany, imploring the Warrior to protect the queen and her child and for the child to grow up brave and noble like its parents.
Meanwhile, Alarra didn't digest the news for a few moments, until, with another glance at Alysanne lighting candles for the Warrior and the Mother, it hit her. Alysanne was expecting Father's child. Less than three months after the wedding. That meant that to create it, they had to... they had...
Alarra felt an overwhelming urge to retch. It was strange – she had known for a couple of years about what happened in the marriage bed (some of her married friends shared their stories with her, and several lewd books were secretly circulated among the girls at court), and she knew that Father and Alysanne were probably doing the same, but being confronted with the result of it... Suddenly, the service couldn't end too early.
She tried to calm herself down. After all, what was so bad about it? Alarra had already had experience assisting Alysanne in pregnancy. The baby would get a nurse, and as it grew up, she'd tell it stories of the North, maybe show it around Winterfell and the winter town. It wouldn't be any different from how she treated Aemon and Baelon. She loved the boys, and she was ready to love the new kid just as much.
It's just that... the image of Father doing these things with Alysanne... it just kept trying to appear in her mind, and she felt sick to think of it.
As Aemon piped his tiny prayer and Alysanne rejoined the ladies, Alarra grinned encouragingly at her, hoping that her disgust of the idea of... the conception process... didn't show on her face. Judging by the relief in Alysanne's eyes, it didn't.
Even though he knew it was a possibility, Alaric was gobsmacked by Alysanne's announcement, as if her proclaiming it in front of several hundred people made it even more real than it would have been otherwise. A child – his child... He smiled happily at the people who were now singing another prayer for Alysanne. Their faces, as far as he could see, glowed with genuine joy.
They love her, he thought, warmth filling his heart. They love her and are ready to love her child. He never had what it took, that charm and sweetness of Alysanne's that inspired not just respect, but actual adoration in her people's hearts, and more often than not, it came to him that nobody but Alysanne possessed such an ability.
A while later, Septon Barth stood aside again, this time, to give space to Septa Lyra, one of Alysanne's faithful attendants who defended her in Jonquil's Pool. The young septa knelt down on behalf of all the kingdom's battle survivors to offer a prayer of thanks to the Warrior. Personally, Alaric was growing rather weary of the seemingly endless ceremony – far longer than their wedding service – and barely listened to what was being spoken by the septons and septas, but he was ready to make an exception for Lyra. She saved Alysanne's life – and, by extension, that meant that Aemon, Baelon, Alyssa and the yet-unborn babe owed their lives to her as well.
Septa Lyra's heartfelt prayer turned out to be actually the last one in the service. Septon Barth spoke a short sermon, congratulated Alaric and Alysanne again, and the crowds gradually flocked towards the doors.
After the service, breakfast was quickly served, and, thankfully, Alaric was to have it alone with Alysanne: since she figured it would be unfair to force the fasting on children, Aemon, Baelon and Alarra were to eat separately and have a somewhat richer meal, with bacon, cheese and honey in addition to the bread and fruit. (Well, Alarra was mostly with the boys to supervise them, but it would have been even more unfair to force her to fast while they helped themselves to the delicacies in front of her). Alysanne offered Alaric to share their table as well: since he didn't keep the Faith of the Seven, she said, there was no point in him fasting on Warrior's Day; he refused, reminding her the fast itself stemmed from his idea, and it would be rather dishonest of him to avoid it. Besides, he would have some moments to share with Alysanne – and oh, wasn't he glad of it, especially now.
"Please leave us," Alaric told the cupbearers immediately. "We will call you if necessary."
As the two pages scuttled outside, he took Alysanne in his arms – judging by her laugh and by how quickly she returned his embrace, she had expected this.
"I'm so happy," he whispered, burying his face in her golden hair. "Alysanne, I've hoped so much your instinct was right."
"Our child. The child of ice and fire," she said.
"That sounds quite intimidating."
"The ancient scrolls like to say that something being of ice and fire is significant," Alysanne smiled. "But I don't want to dwell too much of it. The scrolls are fond of attributing significance to just about anything, and I don't want the kid to feel he or she has their destiny shaped beforehand."
"It's not just your scrolls. The crannogmen like to swear by ice and fire, no idea why," Alaric recalled. "But you are right: all these ancient prophecies are just a source of discomfort, if you ask me," he gently laid a hand on her belly. "When the child is born, their own nature will determine their fate."
"That's what I think, too," she said. Her eyes were shining, and Alaric was nigh-mad with joy.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, making her giggle, and nuzzled her warm cheek. Due to the feast day, it struck him, there was no court session, small council meeting or women's court planned for today (unless something very urgent happened), and they didn't have to hurry for anything.
He moved his lips to her jawline and his hands to her waist (staying mindful of her stomach).
"Alaric," Alysanne moved her head slightly away, "I'm sorry, I admire your vigor, but I am hungry and tired, and so thirsty after the speaking and the singing I could swallow the Narrow Sea."
Now that she said it, he realized he was quite hungry – as in, for food – as well.
With an embarrassed chuckle, he stepped away. Alysanne threw him a teasing look – to his relief, she didn't seem offended – and they sat at the small breakfast table after Alaric (still unwilling to call the cupbearers) poured out the steaming tea.