Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun
Chapter Forty-Five.
Lysa Tully sighed as she watched the Red Fork river gently flow buy, the sun seemed bright in the afternoon as it had been raining heavily all morning and now the air seemed a great deal fresher than it had before. She loved days like this when she had been a little girl and she still loved them now.
She and Catelyn would spend hours and hours sitting outside, talking to one another in the secret language that they had created for one another and twisting flowers into the crowns which they placed on one another's brows, naming themselves queens of love and beauty. Then Edmure was born and they would involve him in the games as best as they could with a tiny baby, more often than not he would simply be a dragon or a monster that would hold one of them hostage and the other, usually Cat as she was always the bolder of the two, would have to rescue them.
It was normally quiet easy to do as baby Edmure would often just blink up at them and coo or fall on to his back in the grass and try and put bugs into his mouth so all they had to do was walk around him and place their hand on the other's shoulders and just like that they would be saved and they would go on to play a different sort of game.
It seemed so long ago now that the thought of those days brought tears to her eyes, Mother was still alive then and to her father smiles came more easily and his anger was hardly ever seen. Lady Minisa Whent had died trying to give birth to a second son and that had killed her in the end, the baby had died that same night and Lysa saw that as being for the best for no matter how wrong it might be she did not think she would be able to forgive the baby if it had survived and their mother had not.
If mother was still here then perhaps Father would not be so unkind, so cruel to her sweet Petyr. He loved Cat so much and yet her father had not even considered wedding Cat to him, it wasn't that she wanted too see the love of her life wed to someone else as that sight would like a dagger in her heart and surely claws rending her flesh and nails being driven through her eyes would be more bearable than the sight of Cat being the one to stand at Petyr's side but more than anything she wanted Petyr to be happy.
Even if Petyr being happy meant that she would be miserable, you were suppose to put the people you loved ahead of you all the time. That was what a true lady always did, at least according to her old septa. Lysa had hated the old woman for as long as she had been forced to suffer her, she had long bony fingers like a skeleton and was always eager to take a switch to their arms if they happened to drop a stich or missed a note when playing on the high harp.
The memory of the old witch and Petyr mooning over Cat soured her mood and right now there was nothing that Lysa wanted more than to get out of this room, she stood up and began to strode over to the door that lead out into the corridors of Riverrun, before she could even reach the door to open it however it opened on it's own and her uncle stepped in.
Lysa had always loved Uncle Brynden for as long as she could remember, he had been able to spend a great deal of time with them when they were younger, far more than father ever had and even Mother in some respects. Lysa had also always found it easier to speak to her uncle than she ever had her father, to her Hoster Tully had always just been the Lord of Riverrun, her uncle had always just been her uncle though she knew that he preferred Cat and Edmure to her.
It wasn't something that she was not used too, everyone she had ever known had preferred her siblings to her. Even the old septa had been more reluctant to take the switch to Cat's hands.
"Hello Uncle." She greeted politely with a warm smile and her uncle returned it as she sat down on the end of her bed, her uncle sat down next to her when Lysa gestured to him that he could. "Is something wrong?" She couldn't think of another reason why her uncle would choose to come and speak to her without announcing himself first.
"No my love, there isn't anything that you need to worry about." Brynden said in the soothing tone that Lysa had known since she was a child. The one that told her that there was nothing that she had to be worried about and that more than anything else that he would listen to her and he would understand, the voice that would make her tell everything.
"No, your father just asked me to come and tell you that if you were coming to speak to him about anything or if there was anything that you needed to tell him, come and tell me instead. So, he came and told me to tell you something that you would more than likely do anyway." His words brought a laugh bubbling out of Lysa's throat and once she regained control of herself she noticed a proud smile on her uncle's face and bringing the laughter on.
"But to be honest, Lysa. Do not bother your father today, he is going to be extremely busy. Several smallfolk are coming before him today to present grivances and receive justice. Don't interfere, do you understand?" Lysa frowned heavily, she didn't understand why her uncle had come with this message, she had never been one to pay much attention when her father had made rulings, Cat had always had interest in it and Edmure had to pay attention but when Lysa had been forced to sit in a corner and watch she always tried to imagine that she was somewhere else, most often somewhere else with Petyr.
Still, she could only imagine that the only reason that her father would send such a message was if he absolutely did not want to be disturbed and so with a nod she accepted this command. Her uncle leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, called her a good girl and then left her to her thoughts.
After a while she realised she had nothing to do, watching the river run past had lost it's appeal, she did not relish the idea of starting another piece of needlework and none her books held any appeal to her. Her uncle and her father had not confined her to her room and thus she decided that the best thing to do was simply to wondered around the castle until it was time for dinner.
She passed several servants, all greeted her politely and she would say a word or two in response but not enough to make anyone think that she wanted to stop and have a conversation with any of them. She soon found herself outside in the courtyard of Riverrun and the noise the blacksmith hammering on some steel and the daily conversation filled her ears as the smell of horse droppings and freshly baked bread hit her nostrils.
She decided then to head towards her mother's garden, the smells of a dozen different flowers always made her happy and at the moment Lysa felt that she could certainly do with a bit of cheering up. She picked up her skirts and began to walk through the courtyard to the stone archway which lead into the gardens, as soon as she stepped through the archway the smell of lilacs rid the unpleasant smell from her.
Lysa's mother had tended to these gardens by herself since shortly after she had married Lord Hoster, she always had people to help her to do some of the harder tasks such as moving the heavy objects and laying down the manure as it would do no good to say that the wife of the Lord of Riverrun had her arms buried elbow deep in pig shit but aside from that it was her mother who tended to all the flowers, who clipped their thorns when they grew too large.
The castle step was nuzzled in here somewhere but Lysa didn't spend much time in there, she remember many days when she was younger kneeling in front of the statue of the maiden, praying to be more beautiful. She prayed that when she was older she would be so beautiful that no one would ever even look at Cat, they would be too busy looking at her.
She prayed for her turn and it never came.
The thought hit her hard and she soon found herself sitting down on the ground, she could practically hear her septa shrieking at her to stand up to stop from running her dress. But the old septa wasn't here and had been dead for years and Lysa had plenty of dresses, she could manage with one being ruined and if she wanted to sit in the dirt she could sit in the dirt for as long as she liked.
She wasn't sure for how long she had sat there but the sun was beating down on her, they were still in Winter but in the Riverlands in the afternoon you would not be able to tell. She was about to stand up and walk back inside or maybe she would go down to the Water gate and dip her feet in the river. Just as Lysa stood up however she heard a noise coming from above her, she paused and listen again because she thought that it was possible that she had just been hearing things, it wouldn't be the first time.
She had once been certain that she had heard singing coming from the dungeons but her father had assured her that there was no one being held down there, it didn't stop her from hearing the voice singing over and over for days until it finally stopped. She didn't like to think about it, even after it stopped she had nightmares for days and days afterwards.
The noise repeated and Lysa was certain that this time she heard it, it was a noise that knew well. The sound a mix between a swallow and a gulp, unmistakably the sound of someone throwing stones into the Red Fork. She glanced up at the battlements but she found that she could not see anyone up there, whoever it was they had to be crouched or looking over the side of the battlements facing the river.
Curiosity overtook her and she found herself pushing through the bushes and the brambles, ever since her mother had died her father had ordered that no one was to touch a single plant and that had made even walking on the path towards the sept difficult, pushing through the bushes was nearly impossible and Lysa could feel the thorns ripping into her dress and catching into her hair.
It wasn't actually that long a journey to the actual castle wall though the overgrowth made it feel like she had travelled a dozen leagues, her chest was burning and Lysa was fairly certain that some of the thorns had drawn blood but she would deal with all that later. After feeling along the walls for awhile Lysa eventually found some steps carved into the stone that would take her up to the battlements.
The plants had been creeping up the steps and Lysa slipped and fell on to her hands twice and for a heart stopping moment she thought that she was going to fall over the side and tumble into the bramble below. She thankfully manage to regain her balance and then scrambled half on her hands and knees all the rest of the way up to the battlements.
Once she was up there Lysa tried to catch her breath as she glanced around, as soon as her eyes landed on Petyr crouched over a small pile of stones however she found that getting her breath back was even harder than it was before. Lysa brought up her hands to check that her hair was not too much of a mess and checked her dress to make sure that it wasn't too badly ripped, doing her best to hide the worst of the damage.
Once she was certain that there was little else she could do to make herself look better she began to gently walk over to where Petyr was kneeling, she gently cleared her throat and the love of her life looked up at her in surprise. As soon as he saw that it was her the surprise faded and was replaced by a guarded expression. "Hello Lysa." He said evenly as he reached down to pick a small stone from his pile before throwing it into the river.
Surely someone just saying her name should not have such an effect on her, it should not make her hands feel like she had just shove them over a camp fire and made her tongue feel so unwieldy nor should it make all the blood rush to her face but Petyr had this effect on her. It had to be love, the blacksmith's apprentice was handsome as well, in a lowborn sort of fashion and he didn't have this effect on her. "Hello Petyr, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I am doing Lysa? I am throwing stones into the river."
"Why?"
"Because I can't throw them at Brandon Stark." Never had words been so cruel to her, never had they inflicted such pain. She knew that Petyr was as unhappy as her father was happy when news had finally arrive by raven that her sister and Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell had finally been wed in the Winterfell's godswood. Her father had been worried about how long Cat had spent in Winterfell without being wed and when the scroll had come she could see the weight being lifted.
But when the news had reached Petyr's ears she had watched as he had stormed off to his own chamber's, a part of her couldn't help but think that he deserved it, at least a little bit. He never noticed how much it had hurt her to watch as he loved her sister more than he ever did her when Cat would never give him the time of day, when she had laughed at him.
Lysa had never forgiven Cat for that. Not truly. She had never thought that her sister had it in her to be that cruel.
She knelt down next to Petyr and took a stone from the pile and throw it over the battlements, Petyr didn't turn to look at her but he didn't say anything about it as he took another stone for himself and threw that. For what seemed like far too short a time the two of them sat there with one another, throwing stones into the river.
"She can't be happy with him." Petyr finally spoke as he looked down at the stone he had picked up, gently rubbing his thumb over it. "How could she? They don't know anything in the North, they don't hold tourneys and it's meant to be freezing cold. She'll get sick, I know that she will. I don't understand why your father would be so cruel to me, to her as well. I could make something of myself in time. A man worthy of your sister, the man who built that bridge over the Green Fork was nothing once and now House Frey is one of your Lord Father's most powerful bannermen!"
Lysa bit her lip and felt tears welling up in her eyes. He really couldn't see how every single word that he uttered ripped into her, could he? She reached out and gently took his hand. "It is not so cold in the North, and Winterfell is warmer than you might think. It's built on hot springs and there are these pipes that carry the water all around the castle so it is always warm inside."
"And Cat...my sister seems happy Petyr, at least I think she did. She was willing to marry Brandon Stark at least. Even if she didn't, she's wed and she's hundreds and hundreds of miles away. There's nothing that you can do, you're never going to have Cat." She brushed her thumb on the back of her hand. "But...maybe, you could have someone else instead. Someone who wants you, truly."
She began to lean in before Petyr's hands came up to hold her back by her shoulders, the look in his eyes made her want to cry. Lysa could think of no other word for it other than disgust. "You? You think that I would ever want anything to do with you? Lysa, I would much rather be married to an actual trout than have anything to do with you. You're pathetic." And just like that, Petyr was gone. The sound of his footsteps hurrying away echoing in her ears.
Lysa wasn't sure exactly how sure she sat there with tears streaming down her face but eventually she found some strength, got to her feet and made her way back to the carved steps. She made it back down without incident but Lysa found that she wouldn't have minded if she had fallen, it felt like her life was already over at any rate.
A sudden anger overtook her, an anger at Cat and Brandon Stark and her mother and her father and her uncle and herself for not being more beautiful, for not being more witty, for not being more graceful, for not being more than she already was. She grabbed hold of a brush in front of her and began to rip at it, tearing at the twigs and the leaves and throwing them aside, cursing loudly and not caring who heard.
When she had finally finished tearing into the bush she noticed something that made her frown, beneath the brush that was something that looked a great deal like wood, as she pulled more of the branches away and eventually a door stood in the small clearing that she had made. She knew that she shouldn't but her hand drifted towards the rusted handle and with a sharp tug the door creaked open, it had clearly not been opened in an extremely long time.
Lysa stepped forward and nearly gagged at the stale air inside of the door, she glanced down and was just able to make out stairs that lead downwards and seemed to twist around the wall but she could see no more than that, she knew that she should as she could trip and break her neck or a stone could suddenly come loose from the roof and bash her head in but at the moment she did not think that she would care if that did happen to her and so she slowly began to walk down the steps.
If nothing else, she could at least say that she saw a part of Riverrun that Cat had never seen before.
The stairs seemed to go down and down and soon it became clear to Lysa that she had to be at least under the earth by now, the stairs soon came to an end and though she couldn't see anything due to the pitch blackness the ground seemed even and she felt cracks and spider webs on the walls. She walked and walked in the dark with only her hand offering her any support, her other hand was held out in front of her to stop her from bumping into something.
Her hand hit something that felt like wood and after minutes of fumbling in the dark she finally found the door handle and pulled it open, it was pitch black but she couldn't see much but her eyes had begun to adjust to the dimness and she could soon make out a small room, a small heath was built into the wall and two tables with rotten legs stood in the middle, a few chairs placed around them.
In that moment it occurred to her what she had found, a servants sitting room. She could spy another door but it more than likely only lead down to where the servants had used to sleep. This place had been abandoned even before the gardens had been overgrown and Lysa wondered why she even decided to come down here, it wasn't as if she would find some great treasure or something that would make her pain go away like it wasn't even there to start with.
Lysa heaved out a heavy sigh and turned and began to walk back down the passage way, once she was, what she assumed to be half way back, she stopped. For a moment she thought that she had to be seeing things but no, it was definitely there. A orange light that could only be cast by a torch flame was shining through a large crack in the wall.
She slowly approached, trying to make her footsteps as quiet as possible, and gazed through the crack. She could just make out two figures, both seemed to be dressed in dark cloaks. Neither of their hoods were up but through the crack Lysa could not make out any features about them, she assumed that they were men given how tall and broad one was and how the other was taller than most women than Lysa had ever seen.
Her guess was soon proven right when one of the men began to speak. "Leave it to her to be late, I swear that woman enjoys making things difficult for the rest of us."
"Hoster will bring her in a moment, you must try and be calm." The taller man had a deep voice that sounded familiar though she could not place it while the shorter one had a voice that had been well worn with use and age. "I know that you are anxious but-
"Anxious? Yes of course I am anxious, I want to see this done as quickly as possible and be back beyond the Neck before anyone knows anything and before the Spider's little birds have time to fly." The man kept pacing out of view of the crack and Lysa tried to keep sight of him. "This was dangerous, the three of you should have just come by ship to White Harbor."
"This entire venture is dangerous my Lord, nowhere is safe for us to talk about the things that we do. But if we all suddenly took ship and headed to White Harbor then that is far, far more noticeable."
"I am aware, I am. I just...I just want this to be over."
"Patience Rickard, patience."
Lysa couldn't stop the frown when she heard the shorter man address the taller one by name, they were both clearly high born and the taller man's voice was so familiar and his name was Rickard but it didn't make any sense. If that truly was Lord Rickard of House Stark then why did he not come with an entire retinue and why did her own Lord Father not announce his presence?
Suddenly her uncle's words came back to her, about her father not wishing to be disturbed today. It was like a tapestry that was slowly being assembled in front of her eyes all though she did not have all of the threads yet.
Lysa nearly jumped out of her skin when she thought she heard footsteps approaching but when she turned and saw nothing she realised that it was coming through the wall and the sound of a door being opened made her look back through the crack. Along with the footsteps, for their was a pair of them, there was the sound of something else tapping against the floor with each step. A woman's voice with a hint of steel underneath. "Lord Arryn. Lord Stark."
"Lady Olenna. How kind of you to join us." Lysa was certain that she could hear a hint of annoyance in Lord Rickard's voice. "Does your son know where you are at the moment?"
Lysa heard the woman let out an unladylike snort and the sound of what she could only assume was a stick to help her walk being tapped against the floor rapidly. "My dear sweet dunderhead of a son does know, I told him that it would soon be near the time that your dear mother passed into the embrace of the gods Lord Hoster and I simply had to come to Riverrun as soon as possible so that I might pay my respects to her. Of course, I don't think I ever spoke more than five words to the woman but Mace didn't care at all about that, I was given his leave to go and here I am."
The clearing of a throat that Lysa had memorised soon filled the air and her father, who must have walked into the room with Lady Olenna as he had not been there before, began to speak. "Yes, well. There's that. Regardless there are more important things to discuss. Your son's wife has been returned from the Westerlands Rickard? That is good, it means both you and Prince Doran can make moves without any fear of retaliation against her."
Lady Olenna let out another snort and Lysa tried to get lock at her but only the back of her father's head was visible at the moment. "Forgive me my lords but I remain unconvinced that we need the Dornish. I know for a fact that they aren't as strong as they like to pretend that they are and Prince Doran is more a turtle than he is a viper."
"Perhaps, but his brother is all a viper and when it comes down it I would rather have him and all the spears that Dorne can muster on our side than on Aerys's." Her father muttered. "I have to wonder if it is now time to let the boy know what we have planned."
"No, not yet." Jon Arryn spoke out, a note of alarm in his voice. "I know that we must eventually but Robert is a bold boy and can be prone to rashness. I would much rather we wait until we know where all the pieces are going to fall before we move."
"We never know where all the pieces are going to land." Lord Rickard spoke. "For all your fancy talk, your game of thrones is more like a drunkard rolling dice than any of you would care to admit. Your set your pieces but in the end all you can do is hope that they go the way that you expect them too, if you don't than you've lost everything."
"And here you are playing it with the rest of us." Olenna's voice held a note of amusement and Lysa could almost see Lord Rickard biting on his lip to stop himself from screaming. "I will not deny you have a point, the Crownlands wouldn't dare risking Aerys's wrath, they will not turn against him. Tywin Lannister's daughter is going to be queen and his grandchild, assuming that it is a boy, will be king. He won't side against him, not now."
"What of your son, Olenna." Her father asked the dowager lady of Highgarden. "Where will the Lord of Highgarden stand on this matter?"
"If my son had any sense he would pledge his banners to your cause but Mace has never been full of that, it would depend on Lord Tywin I think. If he supports Aerys then Mace will go with him. If Tywin supported us then Mace would follow strength, he always has done."
"The Reach and The Westerlands together can field as many men as the other five kingdoms combined, if that happened then it would not be an easy fight for us." Jon Arryn pointed out as he stepped into view of the crack, the man was old enough to be her grandfather. "There must be someway that we could make Tywin side with us, he and the king are not on the best of terms. Could we not use that?"
"Jaime." Lord Rickard spoke and everyone turned to face him. "The boy's unwed, we propose a match between him and one of our house and that would dived Lord Tywin. At the very least it might make him hesitate, or maybe have him sit the war out in Casterly Rock. And it might put to bed any rumours that might be flying about him and my gooddaughter."
"I have no daughters to wed, Robert has no sisters."
"I have two daughters, both older than Mace and both are married and both are far too much like me. My lords may choose which is the biggest problem."
"Lyanna is betrothed to Robert."
"Cat is married to your Brandon and Lysa...Lysa." A note of happiness finally entered her father's voice, happiness and pride. "My little Lysa, the Lady of Casterly Rock. Yes, we could at least approach Lord Tywin with the offer."
"If he accepts then we have an actual chance, Mace wouldn't dare stand with the King if five other kingdoms stand against. I hope he's not that big a fool at any rate. I will arrange a lunch with Lady Tanda Stokewothy and Lord Giles Rosby, both are on Areys's doorstep and both could be useful if you are going to take the capital. It does rather put me in the line of fire but given how he's been acting lately if Aerys's spider comes to him and tells him that Mace Tyrell's mother took tea with a minor lord and lady I think the spider is more likely to be burnt than I."
"Are we certain that we should not speak of the letter?"
"Rickard. No. Rhaegar may be plotting to move against his father with Tywin but I knew Aerys when he was young and Rhaegar is the spit of him, Tywin will see that as well. We can't trust him and when we offer Tywin a better deal he will jump ship as fast as he can." The three lords and one lady spoke on but Lysa heard none of it, she turned and began to slowly walked down the corridor until she finally reached the stairs.
Once she stepped into the garden she leaned against the wall as her father's words rang in her ears and the pride in them pulled her heart back together after Petyr has so cruelly stepped on to it. His little Lysa, he had said. The lady of Casterly Rock, he wanted that for her. He wanted Jaime Lannister, for her. Petyr had fled her thoughts as she stood up and began to race as quickly as she could through the brush.
She had to send a raven to Cat, to tell her as soon as possible!
End of Chapter Forty-Five
Welp, new chapter done.
I hope everyone liked it but can I just say I really hate writing Littlefinger's name, it is really annoying to do and you have no idea how many times I had to go back to correct it.
Anyway, that little tangent aside I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as it was important to me that you see what the other plotters were up to but I didn't want to just put us right in the mind of one of them as that seemed too direct.
Please follow, favourite and review. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Love,
Doctorwhofan12345.