Lord Edwyle Stark
Three years had passed since the death of Queen Dowager Aelinor Targaryen, the woman who had been like a mother to Edwyle, in fact she had pretty much been his mother, considering he had been eight when he was sent south to squire for Prince Maekar, and his own mother had died when he was very little, had been ailing for some time, age had caught up with her. Truly she had always been a healthy woman, showing no signs of slowing down from the frantic schedule she had maintained since she had been but a young woman, fresh into her marriage with the former King, Aerys, and yet her body was not able to take it anymore. The signs had become evident some four moons before she had succumbed, illness, a weak chest, bleary eyesight, towards the end Edwyle suspected that Queen Aelinor had lost the will to keep fighting, a fight she had been waging since Prince Maekar, had died some years previously.
Her death, whilst not an entire surprise had still him hard when Brynden had come out of her room with that vacant look in his eyes and announced the news. Edwyle had his suspicions that something more had occurred in that room, but he did not and had not wished to prod his king and goodbrother about it, deciding for once that this was a piece of information he did not need nor want to know. The king had called the council together shortly after Queen Aelinor's remains had been interred in Summerhall alongside Prince Maekar's and declared that a tourney was to be held in memory of his mother. The king had kept a vacant look about him for most of the time that the tourney lasted, and had not really appeared all that interested in the events, all these years later Edwyle himself struggled to remember much about the tourney, apart from the fact that his son Brandon had won the jousting and had crowned his sister and Edwyle's daughter Anna Queen of Love and Beauty.
After the tourney there had been more things that had needed to be discussed. There had been a dispute between Lord Luthor Tyrell and Princess Loreza Martell over borders and bandit raidings which both sides were accusing the other of leading. The matter had threatened to get very violent, with that oath Luthor Tyrell not seeing how he was in the wrong by accusing Princess Loreza of something that his own bannermen were clearly doing of their own free will. Tyrell, perhaps edged on by his wife that snide woman Olenna Redwyne, had called the Princess Loreza's cousin Mors a snake and a traitor to the crown, something that had led to the two parties nearly coming to blows, only the intervention of the King had prevented such a thing from occurring. Eventually the matter was cleared up, and Dorne gained more land towards its northern border, something that Edwyle knew from his sources Lord Luthor was still largely bitter about, but still Dorne needed to be kept happy for now, the Tyrells would remain loyal they had no choice otherwise, after all their hold on Highgarden depended on the Iron Throne's support.
After that drama there had been more reports from the Westerlands, Tytos Lannister was playing straight into their hands, more the king's hands than Edwyle's. The man was far to malleable, the men Edwyle had planted in the Rock were whispering advice into the man's ear that was leading to his own downfall, the man's bannermen did not respect him, neither did most of the other lords of the realm. Edwyle often wondered why the king wanted his nephew's hold on the Westerlands to be so weak, and often found himself coming back to the same reason: Garon Lannister's treatment of Lady Daenys. The King knew how to hold a grudge and though Lannister had been dead and buried for some years now, no one in their right mind brought the man up in front of the king, unless they wished to have their ears fall off due to the king's ranting. Still things were working nicely there, and perhaps one day Anna might find herself as Lady of the Westerlands, if things were to continue going the course that they were now.
Thinking about Anna, made Edwyle think about the rest of his family. He had not been to Winterfell for many years now, Melissa and Rickard had both married without him being present, business in the capital having prevented him from leaving. And though he deeply regretted not being able to be there for his children, he was very proud of them. Myriah had written to him on many occasions narrating the tales that Melissa and her children had gotten up to during their visits, his eldest had always been a brave and bold girl, full of curiosity, and it seemed as if she had adapted well to the life of the mountain clans, with lots of children if the truth be told. Rickard, now Edwyle did not know much of his son as a man, when Rickard had been a lad, he had been solemn and shy, not speaking very much, more content to allow Melissa and his cousin Jon to steal much of the limelight. Rickard had wed seven years ago to Lady of Clan Flint and though they had reportedly had a happy marriage, the woman had not produced a child for Rickard, and had died giving birth to a stillborn son, Rickard had yet to marry again, or even look for another wife, and Edwyle was worried that he never would, the succession needed to be secure and soon, for the events that would come in the future.
His thoughts stopped when he saw the curved oaken doors of the council chamber and saw Ser Quentyn Bracken and his own son Ser Brandon Stark standing guard. Edwyle nodded at both men and walked through the opened doors. When he entered the chambers, he found that most of the council was already gathered: Master of Laws Aegon Targaryen Prince of Summerhall, Master of Coin Lord Allem Dayne, Master of Ships Lord Tyrek Baratheon, Master of Whispers Prince Maron Martell and three year termed Grand Maester Pycelle. The old grand maester, Maester Derryck had died in his sleep three years ago he had served the royal family since the days of King Daeron the Good, and had offered the king and Edwyle some very good council over the years, he was still sorely missed but this Pycelle fellow seemed to know his stuff, he was still quite quiet and shy around Edwyle though, but then again most people were Edwyle had noticed, still so long as the man did his job and kept loyal to the throne, he would not need to worry.
He moved to his seat to the right of the king's own seat and remained standing as soon enough the doors to the council chamber opened and the King walked in followed by Ser Oberyn Dayne the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Once the king had bid them all sit, Edwyle looked at the king to see what was on his mind, the king looked haggard and ill at ease, Edwyle knew that Lady Daenys was deeply ill, struggling with the sweating sickness and that the Queen herself was struggling with the illness, no doubt the king was up most of the night trying to make sure his wife remained safe and well. Still his voice was strong when he spoke. "Now what matters are there for us to discuss my lords, and I do not wish to discuss some simple matter that Tyrell keeps bringing to court with his oaf of a uncle. The Martells know what their place is, it is best that Luthor Tyrell learns his as well."
Edwyle repressed a smile at that, the King clearly did not like the Tyrell, and the feeling Edwyle knew was mutual still he spoke up before Maron Martell could voice any more opinions on the matter. "There is the issue of the sweating sickness Your Grace. Reports have come in from the Westerlands and from the Vale, it has claimed many lives and the people of King's Landing feat that it will come here as well."
The King nodded. "Aye, a raven came from the Eyrie, Jon's wife has succumbed to the sickness as well. Very well, inform Loren that I want patrols out and a decree issued that those who develop the symptoms are either to be purged or quarantined. And make sure that those ships coming from the east and the west are thoroughly checked." Edwyle nodded and made a note of that. The King then asked. "What more is there to discuss?"
Maron Martell spoke then. "There is Your Grace. Word has come from my sources in Tyrosh, our Archon has died and his replacement is looking to be in ill health as well. Maelys Blackfyre has moved the Golden Company into Volantis though, and it seems he seeks to enter an alliance with pirates and cut throats, for one purpose only. Furthermore, Prince Aerion's children have been found after many years of searching. They were in Qarth for many a year, but are now back in Myr, under secure guard from my men."
Edwyle saw the king nod briefly before he asked. "Do you still have men in the company itself Maron?" When Martell nodded the king went on. "Good, I want you to write to them, and tell them that they are to poison this alliance with the pirates and the cutthroats I do not want another war on my hands. Nor do I want Blackfyre to have the ships necessary for doing such a thing. Also make sure that this time my cousin's children remain under your supervision. Anything else to discuss?"
Maester Pycelle spoke then. "A raven arrived from the citadel this morning Your Grace. It confirmed all that we have thought true for the past few years, Summer is at an end and Autumn has arrived officially, and with it soon shall winter."
There was some murmuring in the chamber at that and Tyrek Baratheon joked. "What is it you Starks always say Edwyle? Winter is coming? Well it seems as if you were right."
Edwyle merely looked at the man and then turned his attention back to the King, Baratheon was a boy playing a man's game, his father had raised him well, but the boy was still corrupt and spoilt at the bone. The king was silent for a long moment and then said. "Very well, I believe it is time that we send ravens to the Lords of the Crownlands and tell them to bring in the harvest. Now if that is all, I say we call this meeting to an end."
With that the meeting ended and Edwyle was walking back to the Tower of the Hand when his goodbrother stopped him and said. "Edwyle, come walk with me if you would." Edwyle nodded and turned round and walked towards the king, once he was stood next to the king, they began walking towards the king's chambers. They walked in silence for a while before the king spoke. "I want you to return to Winterfell Ed."
Edwyle looked at the king then not sure if he had heard properly. "Your Grace?"
The king sighed and said. "I want you to return to Winterfell, visit your family. Relax with Myriah away from all of this trouble here in the south. You have not been home for what sixteen years now? Go home Ed, get some rest you deserve it, we shall manage fine without you for a wee while."
"If that is what you wish Your Grace. But then will you name a temporary hand in my place?"Edwyle asked.
The king sighed once more. "Aye that is what I wish, and no I shall not be naming a temporary hand. None of these fools deserve at court deserve even that honour no, I shall continue to attend the meetings even in your absence."
They continued walking towards the king's chambers in silence for a moment before Edwyle asked. "How does the Queen fare Your Grace?"
The king sighed once more and Edwyle saw the tiredness begin to creep back into his face. "Well, she sleeps for most of the day now, and sleeps occasionally at night. Pycelle tells me the worst of the sickness is over, so hopefully all shall be well from here. Until Rowena opens her eyes though I will not stop working."
Edwyle nodded and then once they reached the entrance to the King's chambers said his farewells and returned to his rooms in the tower of the hand where he began preparing for his trip back to Winterfell. He had not been back to Winterfell for sixteen years, had never seen the need to, Myriah had ruled it well in his absence and when he had come of age so had Rickard. Still he supposed it would not hurt to venture back north, if for nothing more than to see his wife once more.
Once all the preparations had been made Edwyle and twenty members of his household guard set of for the north, for home. It took them a three weeks to get to Winterfell, along the way Edwyle began seeing the first proper signs of autumn beginning to hit Westeros, the leaves were falling to the ground, people were bringing the crops in from the harvest. Once they reached the Neck they were feasted by the cranongmen foremost amongst them the over loyal Lord Reed of Greywater Watch, Edwyle felt as if he would not be able to eat another thing for a whole moon when he left the floating fortress.
Still when Winterfell's formidable walls loomed upon the horizon he spurred his horse on and was the first person through the gates, where he found his wife and son waiting for him. Once he had dismounted and greeted them both, he spent some time looking around the castle, it had not changed all that much since he had last been here, the walls were still solid, the castle itself was the same, as were the people, the only difference being that the broken tower was now not broken, construction on it had begun some five years ago. It appeared as if the hard work had paid off.
"My lord," his son said formally. "Welcome back home. A feast has been prepared for your return, but I know you and the men must be tired, so we shall wait until the evening before begin the festivities."
Edwyle nodded and then walked with his wife back to the castle and his solar as he did so she filled him in on all that he had missed. "When did Rickard become so able to speak my love?" Edwyle joked.
"Oh he's been doing a lot of that recently; it seems that he has finally come out of his grief since his wife died." Myriah replied.
Edwyle nodded and then asked. "Has he thought about any prospective brides? Winterfell's succession needs to be secure my love. Have any of the lords thought about offering the hands of their daughters or sisters to him?"
They entered the castle and began walking towards his solar, and Myriah replied softly. "Aye there have been many offers my love, but Rickard has not looked at a single one of them. Not since Cora died at least. Though now you are here perhaps he will begin to look at them."
Edwyle sighed that was worrying indeed. "Very well, I shall discuss the matter with him on the morrow. But tell me, how has Melissa been doing?"
Myriah smiled, and Edwyle felt his heart sing at the sight of that smile, he hadn't seen it for so long. "She is doing well my love. A raven arrived this morning she is with child once more."
Edwyle laughed. "Gods above how many is that now? Six or seven?"
"It will be her seventh child my love. Dorren will be thirteen soon enough." Myriah replied.
Once they entered his chambers, not his solar conversation stopped for a long time. Then at the feast Edwyle remained silent whilst his wife entertained the guests with conversation and other such filler, and he revelled once more in how beautiful Myriah looked whilst she was doing that. Edric Glover Master of Deepwood Motte approached him towards the end of the feast speaking in hushed tones about whether or not Rickard would consent to wedding his daughter Arya Glover, Edwyle said he would speak with his son about the matter on the morrow and get back to him. Surprisingly, Glover was the only one brave enough to come up and ask Edwyle directly about his son, the other lords were all scared of him, intimidated by the reputation he had developed over the years. It suited him just fine, he wanted some peace just now, not more politics.
Still it seemed to him as if the politics of the south continued to follow him even when he was away, for later that night once the feast was done but before he could go to bed, Maester Walys placed a letter in his hand written in the king's own script, announcing that his sister Daenys Lannister had died from the sweating sickness. Edwyle felt something drop within him, Myriah was very upset when he told her that night, and as he held her as she cried, he could not help but think that perhaps Daenys Lannister's death had something more to do with the king than either of them had first thought. He would need to look into it.