There is no astrologer then, say I,
Can search more deep in this than I,
to give you a reason from the stars,
What causeth peace or civil wars,
The man in the moon moon may wear out his shoon,
in running after marles' wain,
but all to no end, for the times they will mend,
When the king comes home in peace again.
"You wrote this?" asked Uncle Humfrey. It was a ballad set in the period when we; the Hightowers used to be petty Kings. A time before the light of Andalos shone upon these shores. A time of legends and myths. A Time of Bran the builder and Lan the clever.
It is said that millenia ago, King Marles and his family had been kidnapped by Dornish raiders. How that happened is a subject of debate. Some say that the Dornish sacked Oldtown and literally took them from here, that seems very unlikely to me, others say that they were kidnapped while touring their vassals. While there is a lot of debate among maesters on the "how" part of it, no one disputes that it did happen. Hightowers were indeed stranded among the vipers once upon a time.
King Marles I and his wife and their two daughters had been kidnapped for 5 months. It is said to be a time of turmoil and chaos in Oldtown. I'd like to know what a chaotic and restless Oldtown looks like. Just in my dreams though, not in actuality. For the troubles in dreams are my own.
During those troublesome times, emerged the hero of Godsgrace. Brother of King Marles, someone who had been apparently speculated of plotting the usurpation of his nieces. He and a party of 10 men are said to have traveled secretly through the red mountains and then the desert itself to Godsgrace. An impossible rescue task said to be a suicide mission turned into a legend.
They somehow bypassed all the Dornish patrols and freed their Liege lord. Sounds like a myth. A story so fantastical in its machination that maesters do not know what to call it, they'd like to call it a myth I think but their own written records say otherwise.
The irony of an uncle speculated of future usurpation saving those he was said to be usurping against. That is the story of Arthur Halfhand.
He lost a hand and gained mythos. A fair trade in my eyes.
"Yes Uncle I wrote it" Why did he have to sound so surprised? I thought everyone in my family had seen and accepted my talent at lyricism.
"If I didn't know otherwise I'd think that you are planning to abdicate and try your hand at being a bard" As if. "You'd be good at it, you know. Imagine your own legend, "Edmure Hightower the bard of tall tales" He laughed at his own stupid jest. He turns into a dullard when he's drunk. I like to think that this is the real Humfrey Hightower, not the persona of half hearted solemnity he likes to think that he pulls off when he's not drunk. It is good that he's the fourth son. I don't know what father's thinking, sending him to negotiate. Uncle Garth would've been a better choice. Forgive my boastfulness but I like to think that even I would do a better job than him. Maybe father's giving him a chance to prove himself. A risky choice but he would've Lord Mullendore's representative with him too. Maybe he'll prove me wrong. I hope that he does.
"I like to think that I am a better singer than I am a lyricist uncle" I do. My lyrics are good but my voice is even better. "No. That's just your ego talking Edmund" came a reply from behind me.
I rotated on the stool that I was sitting on and saw Aunt Leyla enter. She was wearing a purple dress. An Interesting choice. Purple is reserved for the royal family as far as I know, maybe that rule was just for the Targaryens. It didn't really matter, we were not in the presence of royalty after all.
"Me? I don't have an ego Aunt. I am your sweet nephew" I said in a low voice while trying to induce water in my eyes.
"Brat" Came a swat at my head and she sat with uncle on the cushion.
"Should I continue now?" I asked and started singing after their nods.
….And in every room the sweet perfume,
delightful for that princely train;
the which you shall see,
when the time it shall be,
when the king comes home in peace again.
Till then upon Ararat's hill,
My hope shall cast her anchor still,
Until I see some peaceful dove bring home the branch which I do love.
Still will I wait till the waters abate,which most disturb my troubled brain;
For I'll never rejoice till I hear that voice,
that the king comes home in peace again!
I finished the tale with a high note. Both of them applauded and I stood up and bowed as if I was a bard performing this in an Inn. It brought a grin to my face.
After a couple of moments, my aunt commented "I didn't know you did historical revisionism too, Ed". Uncle asked what she meant but I had an inkling what she was talking about.
"Didn't you notice? He used Ararat's hill " Uncle still looked confused. "You never did focus during septa's lessons did you? It's a holy hill near Andalos" he nodded then as if he had just forgotten about it. Unlikely. "He's singing as if the people of Oldtown in that period believed in the seven."
"You know they were tree worshippers Ed, why use Ararat's hill, I know this isn't just a mistake." She finished. "It isn't." I replied.
"Will you elaborate?" Uncle asked this time. "What is there to elaborate? Those first men aren't here anymore and the only ones who are going to sing this are today and future's seven faithfuls anyway" I replied.
"And the fact that this song of yours, conveys the subtle but false message that we Hightowers and our vessels have always been seven's faithful is an intended consequence?" she asked with an arched brow
"Yes." I replied with a small smile. "Good." she said with a matching grin. Uncle just looked confused. Poor soul.
I planned to write a book someday with all my ballads in it. It should be a fine book. And if the subtle messages in the songs of said book could improve my family's image over the coming centuries, well that is not undesirable at all.
"Have you heard about the bandits?" Aunt interrupted my inner musings. "What bandits?" asked uncle before I could do the same.
"There is news of a band of outlaws terrorizing the local smallfolk and traveling merchants on the outskirts of Rose-road" She said. Well this is interesting. "Where exactly on the rose road?" I asked her.
"7 leagues further from here. According to uncle Richard, the epicenter of all this trouble is near a village called Twain" she answered.
"And what are we going to do about it?" I wondered aloud. Her reply satisfied me, "A century strong party is going to patrol and investigate there, don't worry" I wasn't going to. A party of hundred trained and tested soldiers should be enough for whatever those paltry bandits had managed to cobble together but maybe I could join them.
I needed(wanted) to see some real life action outside of tourneys and this provided the perfect opportunity. Father will easily agree I knew but I needed to convince mother. I mentally groaned.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: (I cheated with the lyrics I know.)
This is my first fan-fiction. So, I'd really appreciate it if you can review and help me improve.
Review:
Fallenrouz: Thanks for reviewing and no, that's not where this is going. I won't say any further.