Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun
Chapter Ninety-Nine
She hated the sun. She did not use to, of course. Not so long ago she had used to love it, she used to love it when the sun would turn the rivers outside the castle into rivers of gold and when her hair was still wet from her bath she would at times stick her head out of the window so the warm sun could dry it with it's heat.
But now, Lysa Tully hated it so much. What right did it have to keep on shinning like it did, like nothing was wrong? When everything was so wrong, when Ser Jaime had been stolen from her and Petyr had shown his true face to her and then abandoned her and Cat got everything that she had ever wanted while Lysa was abandoned and left with nothing, how was it fair?
But the sun was cruel and uncaring and kept on shinning.
Lysa scowled and turned her head away from the window, the smell from the city below the Red Keep was bad enough but on a hot day like this it only made it worse. She thought about leaving her rooms to go and do something, but then she recalled that there was nothing that she could actually do.
None had been allowed to leave the Red Keep as of yet unless it was for something to do with securing the new reign, so she could not go down to the shit-smelling city even if she wanted to. Most of the court had finally come out of their rooms, but the mood about it was still very dour. Nothing like what her memories of her Mother had told her it was like.
It had not helped when a raven had come to them from some castle or other in Dorne that no-one had ever heard of, Eddard Stark had sent it with word that his brother and sister had died down in Dorne, Brandon Stark of fighting to get to her and Lyanna Stark of a fever of some sort. And, most importantly, Elbert Arryn had died as well.
The noise that Cat had made when she heard that had been like nothing that Lysa had ever heard her make before, Cat had always been the dutiful one, the one that had always put herself forward to try and fill their mother's shoes even though in Lysa's eyes she could never hope to do that, she had always hide her own tears and her own sadness and her own fear behind a thick wall of courtesy.
Lysa had always hated her for that, every little thing that Cat did, everything she said, it had always seemed to be a reminder to Lysa, a way for Cat to prove that she was so much better than her and Edmure, that Lysa was the not so pretty one, the failure. So, to see her hurt, to see that for once she was the one to suffer.
It had felt good.
She should have felt bad for that, but she didn't. Everyone had felt bad for Cat when she had been abandoned by Brandon Stark with his baby in her belly and had been forced to return to Riverrun with her son who had been allowed to keep his Father's name but had no claim to anything that his Father had once had.
Lysa had felt sorry for her to, for a time. Back when she thought that Cat had been ruined for the rest of her life but she had forgotten that in the end everything always went right for Cat, her sister would get a new husband when she should have been Riverrun's shame and her child, little better than a bastard, would be taken in by her Lord Husband and while he would not be his heir, he would be given a place and honor of his own.
Cat always got everything and Lysa was left with nothing as the man she was promised to marry made it clear in front of all the realm that he would rather spend the rest of his life serving a madman and never take any wife, never to have any children of his own, than be with her. She hated him, she hated her. She hated all of them, everyone who had ever breathed.
Lysa had tried to see Jaime, after everything was more settled and she and Cat both had been given leave to go about freely through out the Red Keep, her Father was the Hand of the King now or he would be soon enough, either way it had not taken her long to find out where Ser Jaime was being kept and she went to him.
She was not sure as to why she wanted to do so, just to see if he had ever felt anything for her. If it had been a command from his Father than Lysa would have forgiven him, she could understand that as she had never been able to defy her own Lord Father either. Perhaps, if he was relased from his kingsguard vows as a punishment for killing Aerys, which was the only sort of punishment he deserved for that 'crime', then maybe they could finally be married and everything would be as perfect as she dreamed.
She had chosen her best dress, a pretty blue silk with a red bodice and Myrish Lace sleeves with small sapphires and lapis lazuli shaped like tear drops swon into the hem of her skirt. She was young and she was beautiful and that was the truth of it, not even Cat could compare to her how she had looked that day.
But it had all been for not, when she had arrived at the chambers and spoke to one of the guards on the door that she would like to speak to Ser Jaime the man had walked into the room and in far too short a time came back out and told her that he did not want to see her. She had to do her best not to cry when she had heard that.
She might have been able to force the issue if she wanted to, he was a prisoner after all and she was the daughter of the Hand of the King but all the fight was out of her by this point. He had proven to be just like Petyr, he did not want to her. He never had and she hated him so much and she had turned and ran all the way back to her chambers.
Lysa had shoved that dress into a trunk at the foot of her bed in a crumpled heap, she had wanted to burn it but Cat had caught her of course and gave her a long speech about how much the dress had cost their Lord Father to have made and Lysa had bit her tongue as she went on and on at her and it took all she had not to slap her.
Whatever fragile happiness that court had found had been shattered as of late, when word had come of Ser Elbert's death her Lord Father had confronted Elia Martell about his death in the middle of the throne room in front of the entire court. Lysa had never heard her Father utter some of those words before and she had never seen him so angry before.
She had seen him angry, of course. When she had been a girl his fury was something that she had always tried to avoid, whenever he was cross with her and she knew about it then Lysa would always go and run and hide and stay hidden for as long as she could do so. It never really worked when it came to avoid a scolding, but she never could stand and face it regardless.
But that had not been anger in the Throne Room, no what she had seen on her Father's face that day had nothing short of complete and utter fury. She even felt a pang of sympathy for the Dornish Princess as Hoster Tully began to tear into her.
Elia Martell, very small and massive with child, did her best to try and calm him down but Lord Hoster would hear none of it. Her platitudes and her sweet words had fallen off of her Father like rain and Lord Hoster had simply kept yelling at her and yelling at her, the guards that had been with Elia looked ready to move to defend her and Lysa had wondered if there would be more blood, if people would not stop taking from her, before Elia let out a scream.
It was so loud that it had cut through everything and she had fallen to her knees, her hands coming up to rest atop her massive belly as she rocked back and forth screaming and begging and pleading with the gods themselves. 'Not again' that was what she had said, over and over again. 'not again'
She was still in her bedchamber, apprently. Still trying to birth the babe who none knew if it was dead or alive, or if Elia Martell would still be alive when all was said and done.
The door to Lysa's own chambers opened and she glanced over her shoulder and her anger died down ever so slightly, Uncle Blackfish always did have a way of making her feel better even with just his own presence, ever since she was just a little girl. Still, the anger was still there and so she turned her gaze back outside the window. "I want to be alone Uncle, leave me."
"And if it were up to me then I would, but it's not my love." He stepped up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder and when Lysa glanced at his face he gave her a warm smile. "Your Father has commanded your presence, your sister is already there. Lysa, sweetling, now is not the time to try and defy him, come along now."
Lysa sighed but did not try to argue any futher, in the end Father always got what he wanted. She followed her uncle out of the room and up to the solar at the very top of the Tower of the Hand.
Cat was already there, of course. She was pale and gaunt, with her son that looked far too much like a Stark in her lap, there were streaks of silver in her sister's hair and tear tracks down her cheeks, her eyes were rimmed with red and looked as though a very strong breeze would be more than enough to knock her down.
War and grief had made an old woman of her sister, and that should not have pleased Lysa as much as it did. But oh, it did. It did very much. Lysa did her best to hide a smile at the sight of her as she walked forward into the solar and took a seat next to her on the other side of their Lord Father's desk.
Any small joy she had managed to get from Cat's suffering was thrown away soon enough as she took in the full state that her Lord Father had fallen into. He was drunk, she did not think that she had ever seen Lord Hoster drunk before. She did not think that she had ever seen Lord Hoster drink while the son was still up, when it came to that.
But there was a pitcher on the table and a cup as well, her Father cleared his throat and then filled his cup up again before he spoke. "There's been word from Storm's End, from Prince Oberyn. Renly Baratheon is dead."
Uncle Brynden cursed at that and Cat wrapped her arms more tightly around her son, bending over to press a kiss to Jon's curls. "What does that mean?" Lysa asked, since Renly was going to be the king now what did that mean now that he was dead? Were there any other Baratheon's left other than him?
"In a word, my lovely girl, it means that once again we've been fucked over a barrel." The roughness of his words suprised her, Cat stared at him like she had never truly seen him before and their Uncle...well, he simply took a step forward and nothing more. "I was promised, promised, that I would be made Hand for that little brat. That was the price of my support and now look what's happened, our men have bled and died for nothing."
"Father," Cat began, rocking her son with her knees to try and sooth him as he began to fuss. "I do not think that they were trying to cheat you or play you false, Renly died during the siege as was a risk. This hurts them as well, I am certain of it."
"Your husband is dead Cat, Ned Stark took him with him on that foolish quest. The damn boy wouldn't be patient, he thought this was a song where he would get to be the hero and save his sister and look what fucking happened." Lord Hoster spat and followed it up with some more wine. "The only halfway decent thing to come out of the whole mess is that Brandon Stark died as well."
"What about Princess Elia, Brother? Has there been any news since...since she began to labor?" All of them knew what he was going to say instead and so none of them saw fit to comment on it.
"No, and you know what?" Lord Hoster said with a laugh, his shoulders shaking with more laughs he did not let out. "I hope none of the news is good, I hope the babe dies trying to be born and I hope that Elia Martell dies to, I hope that when Ned Stark gets here and he sees his dead wife and his dead babe then that is enough to push him to jump out of a window and I hope that Winterfell crumbles into the ground and I hope that every Stark who ever breathed is suffering in the worst of the Seven Hells."
"All right, enough Hoster." Uncle Blackfish said and, as always, Lysa was glad that he was near. "You've made your point."
"Have I? Have I? That we have been taken for granted, that our house has been made a laughing stock and our support demanded for nothing but promises? Have I made it clear that I understand that I have been nothing but played for a fool and I do not intend to suffer so any more? Have I made that clear!?" Lord Hoster slammed his hands down so hard on his desk that Lysa was sure that she could hear the wood splinter and Jon began to cry out loudly as Cat tried to hurridly calm him.
"Hoster, you are scaring your daughters. Your Grandson." Uncle Brynden spoke and Lord Hoster glared at him and Lysa knew that the two of them had their differences but in that moment she was sure that he was going to hit him.
"Do not speak to me of my children, do not speak to me like you know anything at all. You've abandoned every duty I have ever tried to give you, you shall have no children of your own after all. You do not understand, not even for a moment." Lord Hoster spat but at least after that he tried to calm down, even if to Lysa's eyes it looked like was failing.
"I have spoken to Jon Arryn, and things have been decided and quickly. I will be the Hand of the King, I have his support in that before anything else and he understands that unless he wants me to march my armies home and let him try and hold this city on his own." Lord Hoster's fingers flexed tightly into fists for a moment before they unclenched. "The next matter, is to do with the both of you."
"Lysa." The calling of her name made her pay more attention, sitting up slightly straighter in her chair. "A new match for you will be made to Benjen Stark, you will be the Lady of Winterfell and your sons will be the Lords of Winterfell ever after."
Lysa tried to recall what Benjen Stark looked like and suddenly it came on to her, she had caught sight of him when she had visited Winterfell for Ned Stark and Elia Martell's marriage. "Father! He's a boy!"
"He's old enough to be wed, you will do your duty Lysa!" And she would, of course she would, she could not defy him. She never could.
"Father, Ned Stark is his Father's heir. Lysa won't be the Lady of Winterfell by marrying Benjen and has Lord Rickard even agreed to the match?" Cat asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Lord Rickard will agree to the match if he doesn't want me to march North and shove a spear up his arse, and as for the matter you bring up." Lord Hoster began to chuckle once again, when he was finished he poured himself another cup of wine. "Oh no, Ned Stark will not be the heir to Winterfell when all of this is done I promise you that much. One way or the other."
Lysa and Cat both glanced at one another, both as utterly lost as each other but before either of them could say anything or ask what he meant their Lord Father continued on. "Cat, my little Cat, you will be wed as well. You will be Lady of the Vale as I promise you and you will not have to wait long as you will be marrying Jon Arryn, within the fortnight when it comes to that."
Lord Arryn was old enough that he could easily be Cat's grandfather and it took all that Lysa had not to laugh, finally. Finally, she was the one who would have to deal with a match that wasn't like something out of a song. Benjen Stark was younger than her, but rather a younger match than an older one.
Cat, of course, seemed intent to shame her even now as she did not reject or scream out or flee the room but instead merely swallowed and nodded her head. "Of course Father, I shall do as you command of me."
"Good, there is one other matter." Lord Hoster's eyes drifted lower and landed on Cat's son, who right not seemed utterly absorbed by his own toes. "Jon, my grandson. I do not intend for his own rights to go squandered and so, I've made a decision. He will be going North as well, and he will be the heir to Winterfell until such a time that Lysa has a son of her own."
"What?! No, that isn't fair!" Lysa pushed herself up of her chair so fast that it had toppled over after she had stood. "You said that my sons would be the Lords of the North, you just said that."
"And I mean it," Lord Hoster said as he stared back at her in such a way that made Lysa want to run and hide like she was a girl again. "But one way or another, I mean to have a boy with Tully blood ruling Winterfell. Cat's Jon shall be the heir until you produce a boy of your own Lysa, I do not mean to have you cheated. And Cat, when that happens you can have the boy back, a knight in Arryn's household?"
Had Cat objected to it as well? Lysa had not heard, she had been so angry that her blood had pounded in her ears like wardrums. Lysa spun around to face her, sitting down she looked so small. "You can't stop, can you? Even when you are ruined, even when you are less than nothing, even when it should be my turn, you always have to find a way to take things from me, don't you?"
"Lysa, please?" Cat reached out to try and take her hand with tears in her eyes but Lysa slapped it away and ran out of the room, not looking back even as Lord Hoster commanded her to return. The tears burned as they ran down her cheeks.
End of Chapter Ninety-Nine
Another chapter done, a shorter one that the normal lengeth as of late but this one didn't need to be any longer I think as it was setting up some pieces for the next few arcs in this story.
Lysa is...a complicated character, a really fun one to write though.
Anywho, next chapter is the big one hundred and it's going to be from Ned's POV as he returns to King's Landing from Dorne and from there begins to take stock of all that's happened and all that the future holds from everyone in Westeros as well.
Also, please leave a review and follow and favourite if you enjoyed. Constructive Criticism is always welcome.
DiscordantSymphony