February 5, 2015
Week 20, 281 AC
It took us the usual three weeks to get back to Riverrun: three long, excruciating weeks. The days I had taken to riding next to Uncle Brynden talking about his adventures and travels; even when he repeated his stories I laughed hard. He narrated tales of when Marq had been only a solemn young squire bent on proving himself worthy; how he would spend hours cleaning swords and armor. My cousin had never got along with his brothers even though his sister is very fond of him. As such Uncle Brynden told me how Marq would exact revenge for their pranks on him - they would never know what hit them. He recalled a tourney at Storm's End held by Lord Baratheon, where Marq had been too shy to ask for a dance with a stormlands girl who had caught his eye. I remember him telling me of that particular tourney when the invitation to Harrenhal had arrived, but he had never mentioned a girl. "Oh, he was smitten, I say," Uncle Brynden chuckled when I told him this. "Never was interested in many people, that boy, but at Storm's End he sat besides Steffon's younger boy and watched green with envy as Robert Baratheon made the Mertyns girl blush."
That is another sad story - a family torn asunder by the whims of the king. Lord Baratheon, King Aerys' first cousin, had been sent with his wife to the Free Cities to find a 'suitable Valyrian bride' for Prince Rhaegar before his engagement to Elia Martell. In that they had been unsuccessful, and on the voyage home their two eldest sons had watched as their ship had succumbed to a storm and drowned the lord and the lady. Their youngest child had barely been a year old. I can't help but wonder; if modern ships had carried the couple, would they have survived? Or would they still have died and left their children orphans in a lonely home?
Besides that I can't help but widen my eyes and then feel ashamed at my giggling after listening to Uncle Brynden talk about Lord Luthor Tyrell's death in Highgarden. The man had literally been carried off to his death by a horse that rode off a cliff. "Some even say that the whole affair had been planned by his wife, the Lady Olenna," said my uncle when I challenged the story. "A witch if there ever was one, and she had that fool to content with as a husband. In another life she might have been my good-family." He had once been betrothed to Bethany Redwyne, Olenna Tyrell's younger sister. "Can you imagine that?" Uncle Brynden laughed. "Me, married?"
So between talk of this and that, we reached Riverrun. Edmure, as always the happy, eager boy, welcomed us with hugs and a beaming Catelyn at his side. He pestered me to tell him stories of the evil bandits Uncle Brynden had obviously saved me from - I relented, but told him of an old weasel and his cruel family instead. Cat was aghast at how badly the feast had gone - "I know Lord Walder isn't the best host, but he couldn't have been that bad," she said, exasperated. Shirei made it known that she didn't want to hear a word of anything that had occurred at the Twins. "I don't trust myself to not march to their precious bridge and show them the wrath I showed the Blackwoods," she announced.
I was given a letter written in Marq's hand, which spoke about his suspicions about the tourney ('I checked. There is no hidden gold mine beneath our sweet home. Father ignored me when I questioned where he had found all the money to fund the tournament, and Anisa said that when our uncle visited, all the two of them ever did was spend time cooped up in the solar'). It also reminded me of the list of books he had left me. I drafted a reply but before I could go to the rookery to send a raven to Harrenhal, Lord Hoster summoned me.
He sat me down, so much calmer than the first time he had yelled at me, and explained to me marriage alliances. "When war comes to Westeros, the Riverlands is the first to bleed," he said. "And war can come any day, Lysa. Whether we want to it to or not is never a question. I mean to secure our boundaries with everything I have. I mean to protect my lands, my family, and the best I can do that is to be allied with those who have the power and the proximity to inflict the most amount of pain."
Cat's responsibility is to get the North into the fold; I understand what he means. With a Tully as their future lord's consort, no one in that region would attack the Riverlands. Lord Hoster then told me that he has a vague idea to organise a match between Edmure and a girl from a prominent Vale or Reach house ("Elys Waynwood's youngest is not much older, and Mathis Rowan has a girl who has seen three name days.") when he comes of age. It took great efforts to hide my disdain - I mean, Edmure is six years old! - but I had to admit that it made sense.
"Family, Duty, Honor," are the Tully words. He does it to protect family, or so he says. So he wants me to think. So he wants me to tell myself so that I will start believing in his plots. Whatever else the man is, now I know that he is first and foremost concerned about his lands, his House and his legacy. I also know what my role in all of this is.
Uncle Brynden had been right. I am to foster in Casterly Rock for three more years, until such a time Jaime and I can get married. The engagement is in its final stages, hastened by my fostering out; the dowry is currently being discussed. While Lord Tywin serves as the Hand of the King, I will be the charge of his brother, Ser Kevan Lannister. "I do not want this," I told Lord Hoster when we were nearing the end of our discussion. I know why he is doing it; why it is necessary from his perspective. That doesn't mean I am all that willing to be traded like some cow. It just doesn't sit well with me. This entire arrangement makes me uneasy. My 'father' only sighed when I said that, and moved to put a hand on my shoulder. For a moment there, he really looked like he sympathised with me. "I know," he said. "I know. But you know why you ought to do it anyway, don't you?"
Jaime Lannister is but a few days away from Riverrun. No, he is Ser Jaime Lannister now - knighted at the age of fifteen by a glorified Dornish bodyguard called Ser Arthur Dayne. Not much is known of their defeat of the Robin Hood wannabe bandits calling themselves the Kingswood Brotherhood; it has happened only recently and besides, news travels way slower in Westeros than it should. What is known is this: Ser Jaime, originally a squire to Lord Crakehall, was knighted on the battlefield, saved many lives, and is now on the road here to escort me to his home.
Cat has stitched me a beautiful dress to wear when we welcome him. Rich blue silk with red accents. It is important that I make a good first impression, she insisted. "I'm sure he's a good man," she tried to reassure me. "Everything you could want in a husband." Somewhere inside I know she didn't actually believe the words coming out of her mouth, but I didn't accuse her of anything. She was only trying to making me feel better. Only trying to help.
When Shirei and Cat are busy and I am not, I distract myself by reading. Once I had finished all the volumes of Black on Red: A History of the Blackfyre Rebellions by Maester Lukys, I found more war treatises to ponder upon. They feel like an addiction sometimes. Archmaester Gyldayn's texts fascinate me when it comes to the intelligent politics of the Targaryen court, but also disgust me when I read about the lengths people are willing to go to, all for getting and keeping a crown. From Marq's list of books, The Rogue Prince, or, A King's Brother and its companion, The Princess and the Queen, or, The Blacks and The Greens entertain me through the day and well into the night.
I don't even sleep well nowadays. I feel apprehensive and reflective and the future of my new life plagues me night and day. And the gods know I am scared. I don't want to be Monster Lannister's daughter by marriage. I don't want to be Lady of Casterly Rock. But then I think of Uncle Brynden; of Marq and Cat and Shirei and all those people I have come to appreciate and rely on. I think of Edmure. I know, now, the game Lord Hoster played with me. I know he wants me to consider my future marriage as a way to protect them all. I know I've been trapped in his delicately constructed net of maneuvering. I am just a pawn on his chess board but he has convinced me that it lies in my best interests to move as he wishes me to. "It's all for the Riverlands," was what he had said. "It's all for your friends and the family you have chosen," is what I hear emanating from his mouth every night when I close my eyes. I know this is something I have little to no choice in. This is the reality I must face. This is what I must do.
notes: So, the story is at its major point of divergence now. Jaime arrives in the next chapter. I have written the further two chapters, and I will update soon, however my question is this: is there any particular thing you would like Lysa to see doing at Casterly Rock? Thank you for the reviews for the previous chapter, very much appreciated them. Currently I considering to end this story at an epilogue after chapter 13, after which we will see another story spanning 6-7 chapters that covers Harrenhal and a changed rebellion. I'm interested to see what POVs you would like in that as each part will be third person from a different character much like the book series. I am toying with Jaime, Benjen, Elia Martell, Stannis maybe. What say? Leave a comment if you can :)