Chapter 121

Rickon was considering whether running away was viable. Of course, he'd get dragged back. But he would be free from the bizarre way people talked about his sisters. He was fairly certain he should be defending their honor or something….Lyarra and Robert were doing it for him. Which was rather the problem. "Do ya think they know what they sound like?"

"Not at all." Bethany Blackwood replied from where she was primly seated next to him on the haybale.

Lyanna who'd been ignoring all of them to read ledgers from Bear Island just made a grunting sound. So she probably agreed. She'd be vanishing soon to talk about it with one of her senior men before sending letters. Which meant no Lyanna for the afternoon…rats. She was the only one who could keep Lyarra from getting…like this.

"It's weird right?" His nose wrinkled as he cautiously kept his voice down lest the argument decide on using him as a tiebreaker.

Bethany gave a beleaguered sigh. "Edmund is worse making cow eyes at the Manderly girl."

"The green one right?" Rickon knew he missed things with the court, but Edmund tripping over his own feet because a girl winked at him was a bit obvious. Also the sighing. Having two of the man's younger siblings as companions meant he saw quite a bit of their older brother.

Bethany rolled her eyes. "Only her hair is green." There was a pause. "I do not understand my brothers."

"Alyn isn't cow-eyed over anyone? Right?" Rickon checked.

There was a beleaguered sigh. "No? He looks at Ser Loras how Lyanna looks at axes, however."

Rickon glanced to where Lyanna hadn't even grumbled. She was really focused then…someone had probably fucked up. He looked back to Bethany and shrugged. "Well yeah, but Ser Loras is his knight. It's how Podrick looks at Ser Brienne?"

"My siblings have all gone stary-eyed over others since we arrived. It is…very odd." She kicked her heels at the dirt. "I'd rather read."

He winced at a particularly vicious insult from Lyarra towards Robert… "Should we stop them?"

"You want to get in the middle of that?" Bethany looked at him in sheer disbelief.

Rickon didn't hesitate, the argument of which of his sisters was better was something he absolutely did not want to touch with a ten-foot pole. "No."

"I fail to see the point. Your sisters are impressive in different ways. I hardly see the point in arguging over which one is more impressive." Bethany sounded about as confused by the whole thing as he was.

He gave a half shrug of one shoulder. "Think we can escape?"

"They'd notice the movement." She responded. "This is ridiculous."

Rickon twitched, he didn't like holding still but had zero desire of being noticed. "Think if they start punching we can run?"

"If they start punching we'll have to stop them." Bethany sounded regretful about it.

Rickon felt a faint thrum of misery as Lyarra began to argue Sansa's hair was nicer and having nice hair was clearly more important than stabbing ability. "I can't marry her."

"If your engagement to Lyarra is broken off you will be betrothed to me, or one of the Bracken girls most likely." Bethany gave him a look. "I suppose it wouldn't be terrible."

He wasn't sure if he should be insulted by that or not? "Er…thanks?"

Lyanna looked up. "We can't let him marry a Bracken, they sided with the Lannister's after the Red Wedding."

Rickon couldn't help the snarl at that.

"Shut it." Lyanna slapped his arm.

He rubbed at his arm and glared. Why were girls so much meaner than boys?

Rickon shuffled into his sister's solar. "Sansa?"

"Is something wrong?" Sansa looked up from her work, concern across her face.

He winced. "Um…it's about my betrothal?"

"Ah." Sansa glanced at Lady Cerwyn who'd been working at a smaller desk on something or other. "If you'd give us the room, Alys."

Lady Cerwyn rose before curtsying to his sister. "Of course, your Grace."

He bit at his lower lip, eyes on the rug on the floor as he waited for it to be just them and the guards. Even Ghost licking his cheek didn't make him look up. Sansa's hands on his shoulders did, however.

She looked at him, her eyes awash with concern. "What is wrong?"

"I can't marry her!" He burst out.

Sansa brushed his curls away from his face. "I thought you and Lyarra had already agreed to ensure your betrothal was not seen through?"

Rickon's face burned, but he couldn't help how his words tumbled out. "I like her, she's funny and likes Shaggy, but…its weird! Cause she thinks you're pretty and gets all weird about it. 'An she looks at you funny. But I don't wanna marry a girl from a House who turned on Robb! I can't do that! It'd be…it'd be not right."

"Your future wife will be Queen one day, I would never permit a House that failed in their oaths to place their blood in such a position." Sansa held his gaze. "Not unless you begged me to allow such a match. Do you understand?"

He deflated like a stuck gullet. "Oh."

"But I've been remiss in having this conversation with you." She gently directed him to the table with the map of Westeros painted on it, by his shoulder. "The situation has changed since I made the arrangement between you and Lyarra, short of real feelings of affection that match is all but impossible. Though a convenient stand-in to prevent our Lords from attempting to arrange betrothals between you and their daughters too actively."

He frowned looking at the map, the pieces showing their borders and the armies under their command littered across the table. The pieces showing their enemies made his hackles rise. He did not like how surrounded they were. "Because we rule more than just the North now?"

"Indeed." She touched the painted territory that had once been Karstark lands. "When I had the Karstarks removed we did not route their armies in the field, the minor nobility of their territory remained largely unmolested. The loss of the Karstark armies left Robb weakened, and due to them abandoning Robb they maintained a larger fighting force than most of our loyal bannerman."

Rickon chewed on his lip, his various lessons and hours in his sister's solar filling in gaps in what she was saying. "That's why you protected Lyarra and the others? So their bannerman wouldn't rise against us?"

"That, and that they would muster when I ordered them to. And that has proven a fruitful decision. Do not forget the Karstarks share our blood, if our House falls, the North would by rights belong to Alys Cerwyn. By providing a bride price, and ensuring the future of the daughters of House Karstark we bought ourselves alliances that would have been weaker without them. They know what they owe us, and their husbands know who paid their doweries, and what favor they have earned by wedding them."

He nodded, as he looked at the lands belonging to them. "But with the Vale and the Riverlands I need to marry there now?"

"The Riverlands." Sansa corrected gently. "House Tully is extinct. Uncle Edmure is the only Tully whose fate is unknown. But that we have not had him leveraged against us, it is unlikely he still breathes."

Rickon grimaced. "He could still be alive."

"He could, and if he is returned to us we would secure his position. If he is not, your second son will inherit the Riverlands as their Lord Paramount. So your wife must give your son's support in the Riverlands as well as further bind them to our throne." Sansa tapped the Vale. "Our cousin Robyn is marrying to the North. We can survive a generation without binding them further, though certainly at least one of your children must marry there. It would be useful if Arya or Bran married a son or daughter from one of their important Houses, but we can hold power without that. But you do not have the freedom to marry north or east that they do."

He looked at the various Houses of the Riverlands. "But not the Brackens?"

"No, I'll take one of their daughters as a lady in waiting. They are a powerful House, and whether we like it or not, we need their support. For your marriage, I would look at House Blackwood, House Mooton, House Piper, House Mallister, or House Vance. We gain more from wedding you to the Blackwoods or Mootons, but the others are certainly options."

Rickon didn't like the feeling in his gut of just…expectation. "It'd help you if I were betrothed to one of them already, wouldn't it?"

"It would." She tipped his chin to face her. "But you are just two and ten. You are so young Rickon. When you are old enough to wed, any House with daughters your age will have sent them to court, and I would have you choose a bride with what freedom I can give you. For now, your betrothal to Lyarra gives you that time. There is not a Lord breathing who does not know that betrothal is easily broken. But I will not sentence you to an unhappy marriage because it makes my work more convenient now. I can manage without, and I will not let you sacrifice your future happiness when it is not necessary."

His jaw tightened. "But it would help."

"Sweetling, you will not marry a girl we do not know for political gain. When you are old enough to wed we will have this discussion again, and we will do it knowing who it is that you would bind yourself to." Sansa cupped his jaw. "Mayhaps it will be Bethany Blackwood, mayhaps it will not. But either way, she is a good friend to have, as are her brothers. At the least, Alyn will be a knight and possibly a member of our Royal Guard. And Lyarra is certainly a good friend for you to have. I will ensure she is married well when the time comes, and your position will be secure the more allies you have bound to yourself."

Rickon grimaced, it wasn't…it wasn't fair. "She won't want a husband."

"She may not." Sansa just looked sad. "But if she wishes to be secure, she will need one all the same."

His hands tightened at his sides. "It's not fair."

"No it's not." Sansa sighed cupping his face. "Many things are not fair, not unless we make them."

Rickon met his sister's gaze. "I don't wanna marry her, but I can't let her be unhappy."

"Then you have several years to find a solution." She tapped his nose. "When I was your age I was completely sure I loved Joffrey, give her and you time to grow. Things change with time."

Rickon blew out a long breath. "I don't want to wait."

"I am very proud of you for that, but do you think you are ready for my crown now?" Sansa raised a brow.

His cheeks flushed. "No."

"Then why should you be ready for marriage and solving Lyarra's marriage as well?" Sansa's face was soft.

Rickon's shoulders slumped. "It's not fair though."

"If we fixed it now, both of you could end up very unhappy. In four years you both will be far better able to choose your own paths, as best I am able to allow. For now, make friends, attend your lessons, and learn what you want. I will pacify the lords well enough."

He stepped into her, leaning his head against her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" Her hand gently ran up and down his arm. Her scent was comforting and filled him with the warmth of 'home'. He didn't remember his mother, not really, but he had Sansa, and she was as good as. Not that he'd say that, he rather thought it'd hurt her to hear.

Rickon settled. "For bothering you with stuff you already know about."

"You could never bother me." Her arms wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. "Never."

/

Helena Tyrell paused at the sight of Willas and Olenna Tyrell in Willas's solar, clearly waiting on her. She raised a brow. "Ah, you've settled my match then?"

"Shut the door behind you girl," Olenna ordered before taking a deep drink of her cup of wine.

She did as instructed, her voice wry as she approached. "Charming as always grandmother."

"Yes, yes," Olenna waved off, though the faint twitch of her lips gave away she was amused. Old hag liked being challenged.

Helena beamed, stepping to the family matriarch, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Should I attempt to guess or am I to be simply told?"

"Robert Baratheon's bastard son that her Grace intends to legitimize." Olenna raised a brow. "Interested?"

She considered her brief glimpses of the tall, dark-haired boy. "Less noble than Prince Jon, I should hope?"

"Does it matter if he is?" Olenna challenged.

Helena casually dropped into one of the chairs. "Hardly, but iron-clad honorable idiocy would get tiring after a while in a husband, strapping shoulders or not." She considered the two rulers of their family. "Is it a settled matter or am I expected to ensure it happens?"

"I intend to make the offer to him within the week," Willas said, steepling his fingers. "Someone else will strike if we wait longer. Can you do it?"

She hummed, falling serious. "What do we know of him? How controlled by his passions is he? What does he value?"

"We know little." Willas gave her a faint tip of his head. "He's a smith, trained on the street of steel, under a man of high regard and known to be able to reforge valerian steel. His master sold him to the Night's Watch to protect him from the Lannisters but he ended up running around the Riverlands with Princess Arya throughout the war. He spent at least some time with Stannis for blood sacrifice before Ser Davos spirited him away. Once free, aware of his parentage, he returned to King's Landing and took up work as a smith once more. The North has offered him sanctuary within the walls of Winterfell itself. And yet, he's chosen to accept our Queen's offer." Willas's lips twitched. "And he joined that mad rescue of Yara Greyjoy without the promise of payment or reward of any kind."

Helena blew out a breath. "Only a little?"

"Well, less than I would like," Willas admitted.

She let her cousin's words roll about in her head. "I presume he hasn't attempted to make use of whores while on our lands?"

"He has not."

That was…well fuck. "You realize of course seducing the boy would take longer than a week if you wanted me to do it properly? If you want me to control him past the marriage. Which I presume is the point?"

"He seems to have earned some measure of regard from both Ser Davos and Prince Jon." Willas did manage to look sympathetic toward her. The ass.

Helena groaned. "The Northern way then?"

"You'll be Lady of Stormsend if it makes you feel better." Olenna dryly pointed out.

"Certainly a thing worth the sacrifice." She crossed her legs. "What's the offer you intend to use me to seal then?"

Willas leaned back in his seat, amused expression. "Nothing finalized, we will need to organize the details before we make the offer. But we provide trade at a reduced rate, military assistance in securing the Stormlands, political support, the expected."

"And that reduced rate on trade will give us access to the product of their mines come summer no doubt?" Helena hummed considering, it was a basic deal, but not a bad one. Both parties stood to gain a great deal. Especially if she provided the boy with several heirs and the bonds between the Reach and Stormlands were encouraged for several decades. "And of course, my own standing as trueborn further legitimizes the claim of any children we have."

He tipped his head. "There is that. And, as I am soon to marry Prince Martell's sister-" He gave a gesture with his wrist.

"Likely ensured non-hostility in the Dornish marches." Helena tapped her fingers on the wooden arm of the chair. "I suppose the amount of gold you are offering as my dowry will be excessive to the point of expected for a marriage of this rank?"

"Of course, as well as ensuring your household is suitable." Olenna popped a grape into her mouth. "And a position higher than you could have expected."

Helena couldn't help the amused smile at that. "I'm surely grateful, my concern is rather perhaps we are reaching too far. Alliance with Dorne, alliance with the Stormlands, trade and political connections North, no doubt intentions to raise the Westerlands to the ground, her Grace would be taking an awful risk to permit such a thing."

"Bah, she has dragons, lacks any family or loyal direct bannerman to secure her claims for her, and we're of the line of stewards. What royal blood we hold is minor, generations back. We could never take the crown from her or her heirs." Olenna scoffed. All facts their family had fought against for the last three hundred years.

However, an interesting point. "She's actively empowering our House to punish the powers that have not listened to her call while using us to secure her realm for her."

"An advantageous situation, I'm sure you'd agree?" Willas passed her a sheet of parchment.

She glanced at it, the amount being offered for her dowry. It was staggering. The advantages of this marriage were obvious, and yet…she was a second cousin to Willas, Olenna her great aunt by marriage, not blood. "This is too much."

"Certainly not planned, but you are an important piece for the future of our House." Olenna reached out and patted her hand. "Was expecting to marry you to the Tarly boy to bring that House to heel if possible. But here we are."

Her voice was soft, her eyes focused on the size of her dowry. "This is-"

"Too much?" Olenna held her eye. "Don't be coy, we all know you know your own worth."

Helena gave a faint nod. That wasn't wrong, she was aware that while she was not a golden rose able to play any game better than anyone as Margaery had been, she was certainly well-trained in the game. "Well, I presume you can arrange a first meeting then?"