Chapter 13
Notes:
Sorry for the long delay on this chapter, as you'll notice I probably could have split it into two chapters, it is a 25 page word document as it stands. I also made some rather abrupt scene changes at points later on.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
CH 12:
(North – Winterfell Godswood)
Daenerys watched as Rickon Stark and Robert Arryn led Aegon about the woods, explaining each plant. Rickon's dire wolf laid nearby eyes always watching his human. The Princess of House Targaryen sat on a sturdy woven mat that had been placed by the guards at the direction of Old Nan. Dany quickly realized the ancient-looking woman was more than a simple member of the Starks' household.
Nearby a woman named Osha stood sentinel, leaning on her spear as she observed both the boys and their surroundings. Daenerys was curious about the woman's nearly paranoid behavior; she looked tense and ready to leap into action at the drop of a hat. "Lady Osha, we are still within the walls of Winterfell, you do not need to be so tense."
"Danger can come from anywhere," the woman was of the Free Folk and did not bother with titles, though she did call Lord Stark Magnar. Dany had been hearing the term more and more as the days passed. Osha turned at the sound of small but heavy feet. Bran Stark appeared from between the trees, "What is wrong little lord?"
It was hard for Dany to tell, as the boy was very quiet and subdued most of the time they had interacted, but having Osha point it out, drew her attention. Bran's shoulders were slumped, and he was looking at the ground, "I'm fine."
"No, you're not," Daenerys countered, she adjusted the way she was sitting so her legs were angled to her right and behind her, "Come sit and tell me."
Bran glanced towards the heart tree but gave a huff, kicking off his muddy boots before stepping on the mat he sat next to the princess, "Father told us about his vision."
"Ah," Dany grimaced, "it is not a pleasant thing. Sir Jorah had a vision as well, it was why he came to collect me and bring me to Lord Stark. Though, by then others had begun acting upon visions as well so things had already changed greatly. Even though somehow Khal Drogo still ended up killing my brother."
Bran frowned, "Your friends with Drogo, aren't you?"
A halted laugh that sounded like a snort emitted from the princess, "Hardly, he protects me because Sir Jorah defeated him in one-on-one combat. In Dothraki tradition, Jorah by rights could have killed Drogo and claimed his khalasar for himself. Instead, he traded Drogo's life for the entirety of the Dothraki horde to come to Westeros to fight against the Others and their creatures." Dany sighed, "As for Viserys, I have grown to understand my brother was lost long before he threatened the Martells and triggered Drogo to defend them due to a blood oath."
"Blood oath?" Bran questioned.
"The wife of Doran Martell is part of an especially important family in Essos. They have good relations with the Dothraki, to the point Drogo's father entered into a blood oath with that family. Drogo is honor bound to protect the children of Prince Doran as they are the blood of the Norvosi family. When my brother threatened to harm them, Drogo struck him down."
Osha spoke up, "Little lord, what of your father's vision has soured your mood?"
Bran looked to the Free Folk woman, "You know Osha, father said you came because you were given visions as well. You know it was me, or a version of me yet to come who guided you through the visions."
"Nay," Osha countered, "that wasn't you little lord, it may have had your face, but it did not have your soul."
(Nearby)
Blood Raven stood in the shadow of the great heart tree of Winterfell. He felt the power of the gods teaming just beneath the bark. Even now that power both called to him and warned him away. He looked to where his many times great niece and nephew were individually watching over one of the younger Stark sons. The half-wild Rickon would not be settled until he'd shown his two companions every tree, plant, shrub, and bush that inhabited these sacred grounds. The whispers of the Children of the Forest that watched all unspotted by those appreciating the beauty of this place carried Bran's words.
His alternate self had informed him of what had transpired in that other world. Young Bran pushed too hard too soon, to save them all he did the unthinkable. Through a memory, he had warged a young man named Walder who was now more commonly referred to by the word Hodor, the only word the damaged mind could articulate. That Hodor remained unchanged in this world meant a similar event was bound to occur in the future.
Brynden Rivers looked to the heart tree, "Gods of fire and ice, gods of spirit and soul, please guide and protect him from what is to come. Do not sacrifice a child's soul, lay such burdens on one such as me. I have lived long past my time and have more blood on my hands than any child deserves to carry."
(Winterfell)
Robert Baratheon entered the hall of cells occupied by the Night's Watch members visiting. He'd heard rumors that one of the brothers looked an awful lot like a certain cuckolding lion. He'd also heard Aemon had left the Wall for the first time in living memory, so wasn't surprised by the additional number of rangers sent to escort the aged maester. One man patrolling the hall took notice of him, "Your Grace?"
Robert huffed, "Where is he? Where is the craven little cunt? I'll christen a heart tree with his damn cock."
The Watchman grimaced, "I've been told by the First Ranger not to let anyone in his room without a word from him first."
"I'm the bloody king of the Seven Kingdoms," Robert snarled.
"This is true," the Watchman seemed to stand straighter, "but you are not the Lord Commander of the Watch or his First Ranger."
Their voices must have been heard in the nearby chambers as a door opened and a man stepped out, "Is there a problem here?"
Robert frowned at the man, he wore the chain of a maester, but he couldn't be more than a decade older than Robert currently was, "Nothing more than this impudent wastrel not pointing me to the damn Kingslayer so I can teach the damn sister-fucker a lesson. Go back to tending to Maester Aemon."
The watchman looked to the maester in confusion before turning back to Robert, "Your Grace, that is Maester Aemon."
Robert blinked in confusion, "What? I had heard cold temperatures are good at preserving things, but this can't be. Maester Aemon is my grandmother's uncle, he is ancient."
"So ancient people forget I yet live," the man claiming to be Aemon remarked, "my eyes may have failed me, but I am still able to hear. Now come along Robert, I had intended to speak with you after meeting Aegon, Jon, and Daenerys, but guess I'll start with my oldest surviving nephew."
Robert followed the man into the chamber, which was more like a cell in how spartan it was. His guard stayed outside, not wanting to make the already cramped space even worse. A frown crossed Robert's face, "I know Ned is quickly running out of guest rooms but I'm sure he can spare something a little nicer than this."
"It serves my purposes," Aemon chuckled, "and I am no longer a prince of the realm. I would not accept anything more than the same as my brothers of the watch."
Robert sat on the single chair in the room as Aemon sat on his bed, "I am surprised you want to speak with me. Especially after what I've done."
Aemon nodded, "I was not sure if I wanted to speak with you at all, but my better nature won out. I am far too old to hold grudges and far too tired to hear another sad song. The word about Winterfell is you are planning to acknowledge Aegon as your heir."
Robert chuckled, "The lad's idea, I was willing to chuck it all but he's not ready for the crown, the throne, the responsibilities. He has only just been reunited with his brother and both with their aunt. He wants to cement what this messed up family of ours actually is."
"That is good to hear," Aemon wetted his lips, "what of your brothers?"
"We'll get to the particulars when we return to King's Landing. Currently, Stannis seems understanding and supportive of my decision. He seems pleased I discovered my wife's infidelity and set the children aside." Robert shook his head, "I won't be Lord of Storm's End again, but we'll figure things out."
The maester nodded his head, "What of Dragon Stone?"
"By rights, it belongs to Jon," Robert explained, "before we learned Aegon survived I was contemplating naming Jon my heir. Claim he was my and Lya's."
A surprised looked came to Aemon's face, "So you did know?"
"From the moment I held the pup for the first time in King's Landing." Robert sighed, "Ned was busy readying a ship to take them back North and sending word for Cat and Robb to be escorted to Winterfell. Snuck into the nursery while the milk nurse was taking a nap. Was curious, hadn't seen a babe since my little Mya was fresh out of her mum. Jon was quiet, well-behaved, everything you'd expect from a Stark. Yet there was something that told me that we were kin, we shared a loss, and more than that, we shared blood."
"A bit of the old blood is still strong even in you," Aemon sighed, "what you felt was Targaryen magic. The magic that flows in your veins, in mine, and in every member of our house. It is what binds us together as a family and it is what tears us apart when we fall victim to our baser natures. It has grown weaker in the years since the dance. My brother Aegon, your great-grandfather, was unusually strong. Uncle Brynden says he saw it when he first met him, the way the world seemed to bend to ensure Egg would be the great man he became. There was a hundred times Egg should have and probably would have been killed. Yet his magic willed things to happen, it brought Dunk to that tavern, and kept the poor unlucky sod alive through one hardship after another."
"Guess magic has its limits," Robert huffed, "they both died at Summerhall after all."
Aemon frowned, "I have long wondered about the events at Summerhall. When I was a young man training at the Citadel, I noticed a certain aversion to letting me delve into the higher mysteries. Regardless of that obstacle, I found a mentor willing to teach me. From my understanding of wildfire, the ritual Aegon attempted should not have gotten so out of control. Even so, there should not have been such a loss of life, any pyromancer who works with wildfire should carry a vial of the reagent that extinguishes the flames and breaks down the solution."
This information was surprising to Robert, who always assumed his great-grandfather was just suffering the Targaryen madness.
(Ashara's chambers)
Ashara sighed as her son finished recounting the apprehension of Lorch, she needed no recounting of the execution as she'd watched raptly as Ned sent the craven murderer to the gods. Edric had mostly stayed at Robb's side though he did spend time with Oberyn and Quentyn, he'd also rode alongside Aegon during the final chase. This apprehension had gone far better than the failed capture of Clegane shown in her vision.
"You are worried mother," Edric knelt in front of her, "father greeted me then told me I should check on you."
"You know of the visions some of us have experienced?" Ashara asked.
Edric nodded, "Uncle had one before he passed, it was what incited him to reveal the truth of my parentage to Prince Doran." In the weeks since their arrival at Winterfell Edric's hair had grown considerably and was the dark brown of his father. They had agreed he'd shave it before returning to Starfall and continue to wear his wig until Doran revealed the truth to an assembly of Dornish lords and upheld Edric's claims with the consent of the crown and Ned. The Daynes of High Hermitage would have no recourse than to accept, especially with Edric's ties to Winterfell, they well knew the saying the North remembers are not idle words.
Ashara smiled, "Your father may be an honorable man, but he does not always think things through completely. He heard Lorch had fled the Wall and he saw an opportunity to improve the relationships between the younger lords and heirs present. He is also aware being stuck within the walls of Winterfell was frustrating the lot of you. You had an energy that couldn't be expended by simply training in the yard, and too much training is not good either."
"So, a hunt," Edric smirked, "with our prey being a fugitive."
"Indeed," Ashara fumed, "he arranged for Oberyn, Ser Beric, and Ser Sandor to chaperone the lot of you, but it was yours and your brother's generation who truly was in charge. The men were only there to settle any problems that come from such youths, they know how stubborn young men like you can be." She shook her head, "Yet it was the hunt itself that brought me concern. In my vision, Ser Beric and you were sent by Ned to arrest Gregor Clegane who was raiding in the Riverlands. Gregor's men ambushed your party and Berric was killed, Thoros of Myr revived him using some form of red priesthood magic."
Edric frowned, "You were worried something similar would happen this time?"
"I know the situations were not the same, but the idea of you being endangered because Ned was acting out of a sense of duty," Ashara smiled sadly, "At the time, in the vision, he did not know your connection, and in the vision, he was murdered not long after dispatching your party to apprehend Clegane."
Edric bowed his head, "Did I ever learn the truth?"
Ash shook her head in the negative, "We met, just before the end, but I was too afraid. Aegon had a further three years of Connington degrading your father as one of Robert's dogs, and he held no love for the Starks. He abandoned Jon to die in the North. You were the last of the Stark blood still living, and you fell defending the Prince's Pass from the Others."
"You make it sound like that is important," Edric frowned, "my Stark blood."
"Beyond anything, it is important," Ashara lowered her voice, "Rhaegar was blinded by his own self-importance. He thought the Promised Prince was meant to be a Targaryen as they were the royal family. What he forgot is to the Others the name Targaryen means nothing. The Others have unimaginably long memories, the name Stark is the one they fear. A house that has ruled for eight thousand years, a house that once brought them to the brink of extinction. In a house that was never conquered, Torrhen Stark bent the knee to save his people from the threat of dragons, but he was never defeated in combat. He is the only magnar who was not defeated in battle, even the Lannisters were beaten at the fields of fire."
Edric frowned, "So, the North is only loyal to the crown because the Starks are loyal?"
"Yes," Ash snorted, "Aerys lost the rebellion the moment he turned the Starks against him and his house. Robert won the moment he earned their loyalty. Even the Black Queen knew this to be true, the faction that garnered the support of House Stark would win out."
"In the end," Edric remembered his history lessons, "she was right, her son became king with the support of Cregan Stark during the Hour of the Wolf. Those who supported the greens or profited from the chaos also felt the bite of the wolf's jaws."
Ashara nodded her agreement but did not respond as there was a knock at the door. With a frown, she turned to the door, "Enter."
The door opened to admit Robb Stark, "Lady Dayne," he nodded to her before looking to Edric, "father requested to speak with you, and I would have some words with your lady mother."
Edric stood, "What about?"
"Several things, but namely a request of sorts," Robb sighed, "I am to meet my betrothed's family this evening and my mother is not available as father says she is still unwell. Our sister suggested Lady Dayne could stand in for her, as this is not a task Sansa can handle." Robb looked to Ashara, "As for the other matter, I'd prefer to speak of it only with your mother, it is a sensitive matter."
Edric looked to Ashara but she motioned him to go, "If Ned has called you it would be best if you do not keep him waiting." Reluctantly the young man departed leaving Ashara with Ned's eldest legitimate son.
They were alone only a moment before Robb spoke, "I feel I must apologize for my mother's behavior, no matter her feelings on what happened in the past she should not breach guest rights."
"You might have me mistaken for Lady Lannister, it was I who struck her," Ashara said evenly.
Robb nodded, "It was better you struck her than father. I was told she derided Aunt Lyanna, and father would not be lenient over that."
"Lord Robb it is not your place to apologize for your mother," Ashara instructed, "It is her place to set an example for you and your sibling." Ashara sighed, "Did your sister say why I would be an appropriate substitute for your mother at this meeting?"
Robb grimaced, "In the old way you are the rightful Lady of Winterfell. You and my father swore an oath before the gods to be wed."
Ashara was surprised, "Your father told you this?"
"Prince Oberyn witnessed it through a green vision under the influence of weirwood paste," Robb sighed, "he told Jon and Aegon who were present. Jon informed father what he'd been told during our family meeting. Father did not deny it and Lady Dacey confirmed it."
"I do not wish to cause your mother to have any more reason for enmity towards myself or my son," Ashara began to refuse the offer.
Robb countered, "Do not get me wrong my lady, I love my mother and wish her well. I do not want to see my father set her aside in favor of you. If that comes to pass, I will understand, my father must do what is best for our house and the North. Mother was already treading dangerously close to offending our banners and her behavior has done nothing to assuage them. If any it has only made the situation worse, which in turn reflects poorly on my siblings and me. I fear her concerns had long been misplaced. Has father spoken to you of what happened to mother and me in that other time?"
Ashara shook her head, "He need not have, I was also shown those events. Especially the aftermath and your mother's resurrection as a revenge-obsessed revenant."
"He explained my missteps to me," Robb sighed, "I thought like a southron on how I treated my banners. I expected their loyalty by virtue of my position as father's heir. Mother did not truly understand the North, so her guidance was flawed, and I failed to show my men I was worthy of their respect. I executed Lord Karstark for taking vengeance for his sons after my mother released the man who killed them. He defied my orders, but I pardoned my mother for doing the same. It did not matter that Tywin Lannister made offers, I broke faith with my men and paid for it with my life."
Ashara realized what he was getting to, "You understand the dangers of broken vows."
The young man nodded, "I will not break my promise to wed Margaery, she will be Lady of Winterfell when I become lord after my father. I will not blame my father for Edric, I am angrier at your late brother as he stole my brother from me. To learn the brother, I had was my cousin was hard enough, but to know I have a brother who was ignorant of his heritage is painful. The truth is my mother is wrong. Edric is not a potential threat to my claim, for it was I who stole what should have been his. My mother stole your betrothed to replace the man she was promised to, and I was the product of that theft."
"No," Ashara stood and moved to Robb, placing her hands on the sides of his face, "do not ever say such things. Your mother was no less forced into the marriage than your father. I saw her at the tourney, she was truly enamored with your Uncle Brandon, and it hurt her when he claimed to have laid with me. She was not even given a chance to grieve when your grandfather demanded she and Ned wed in a Sept. It is true my brothers were angered by the broken oath, but I was not." Ashara went to the table in the room and picked up the two pins laying on it, "Do you know what these are?"
Robb nodded, "House pins."
Ashara smiled, "The Andals took the custom of these from the First Men. They have muddied the tradition though as they hand them out to anyone who is sworn to a great house. To our people, they have a deeper significance. House pins were not simply handed to someone who swore fealty to a great house. If someone bore this, they were more than just a retainer, they were seen as a true member of the family. They were given to wards who had become more like children and to individuals who were seen as members of the family."
"Like Old Nan," Robb indicated, "I've seen her wear a Stark pin at feasts and on special occasions."
Ashara nodded, "When your father and I exchanged these we were symbolizing the union of our two families as one. When your father and his men came upon my party being attacked by bandits when we fled King's Landing, he returned my pin in shame for breaking the oath yet did not ask for the return of his pin. Do you understand the symbolism of this act?"
Robb bowed his head, "He wanted you to know he did love you."
"He left it to me to decide," Ashara looked at the pins sadly, "I could have returned his pin and ended it all then and there, but I did not. The last words I said to him before we parted ways the next day were, that my heart would be his in this life and the next."
"You were already planning to fake your death then?" Robb asked surprised.
Ashara snorted, "No, that had not even crossed my mind then. Your father was riding off to war and I was a loyalist secreting the crown prince's son to Dorne right beneath his nose. I was not naïve; I knew things were only going to get worse. There was a real chance Ned would fall in battle or be captured and taken to the Mad King, which would have been a far worse fate."
Robb grimaced as he well knew what had happened to his grandfather and uncle at the hands of the Mad King. He stood up, "Lady Ashara, I humbly request you accompany my family to meet with the Tyrells to officially acknowledge the betrothal of Lady Margaery Tyrell and myself this evening." He added, "At the very least accompany Edric as father intends him to be present as well."
(Kennels)
Edric had barely left his mother's chamber when he realized Robb had not told him where he was to meet their father. His hesitation had been noticed by one of the guards who'd accompanied Robb to the guest room inhabited by Lady Dayne. The guard chuckled, "Lord Stark said for you to meet him in the kennels."
Edric rubbed the back of his neck, "Thanks, umm, what's the quickest way there?" The guard had given him a rather complicated list of directions before the second one took pity and offered to guide him.
He found his father waiting for him along with a man he would guess is Benjen Stark. The man who is his uncle frowned as he walked towards them, "This is him? He's blonde?"
"Not his hair," Lord Stark responded, as Edric reached up and pulled the wig off briefly before putting it back on.
Benjen snorted, "Not proud of your Stark looks, lad?"
"Just kept getting funny looks," Edric responded before looking to Lord Eddard, "Robb said you wanted to speak with me."
Eddard nodded, "Your mother told you why she was worried?"
"Yes, her vision showed you sending Ser Beric and me on a mission that went poorly. The similarities unnerved her," Edric looked around, "is there a reason we're meeting here."
Benjen chuckled, "Well lad, I came here with a bit more than a few of my brothers." The First Ranger moved to the kennel door and pushed it open, "they were awaiting my return to the Wall. The old, grizzled male was mine, gave that look animals give you when they're second-guessing your intelligence, trying to figure out what had kept me." Benjen stepped aside, "This one though," a blur of brown, red, and grey darted out and began running in laps around Edric, "wasn't too sure whom he was meant for."
Edric's eyes widened at the dire wolf that was excitedly running around him, "What? Another dire wolf?"
"Yours it would seem," Eddard chuckled as he crossed his arms, "Benjen told me his men had to keep it on a short tether, kept trying to run off in a westerly direction."
Edric looked to his father, "To where we were hunting Lorch?" The two men nodded in agreement, "he could sense me."
"He looks to be about the same age as those of Robb and the others," Eddard frowned, "probably born around the same time. Though, I have to question what happened to the rest of his litter, and parents."
Edric looked to the grizzled male that had exited the kennel and stood next to Benjen, "Isn't that the father to this one?"
"Not likely," Benjen sighed, "don't show much in the way of kinship in their behaviors, they snip at each other more often than not. Think the Old Man here just tolerated the pup following him along. Maester Aemon believes the pup was orphaned, Harwin agrees and says the pup shows similar characteristics to Ghost, probably was the runt of his litter, just not an albino."
Edric huffed, as he placed a hand on the wolf's head, "Guess we got that in common, but what should I call you huh?" Edric noticed the way the wolf ran and spun so full of energy, "Whirlwind, you sure are full of energy like a dust devil from Dorne." Whirlwind seemed to agree as he moved to sit at Edric's side.
Eddard nodded, "Well now that is settled you should get prepared for the evening meal. We are dining with the Tyrells this evening as we finalize your brother's betrothal agreement. I want you and your mother to attend, it will be a good experience for you to see how these matters are handled."
"Are you sure father?" Edric frowned, "They must have learned by now I'm your bastard."
"You are my blood," Eddard corrected, "I care little for what is deemed proper by southern customs. This is the North, and besides, you are my son."
The silent appearance of Ghost was the first sign that Jon was approaching, "Don't argue with him on this, I spent my life as his supposed bastard. Blood is more important than what some silly Septon says to him."
Eddard shook his head at the boy as they watched the dire wolves greet each other. They laughed when Ghost and Whirlwind began a game of hide and seek, and Benjen's dire wolf huffed in exasperation. Benjen patted the wolf's side, "Patience Old Man, we'll go back to the Wall after the wedding, not more than a few days now."
(That Evening)
Margaery had gotten fed up with her grandmother's snipping and plotting but was thankful she had no access to poisons or other means to do anything underhanded. The old woman had finally ceased her complaints when Mace informed her about the visions of a previous timeline, and that her ambitions for the crown had resulted in every one of their family members suffering gruesome and horrific deaths. Olenna Tyrell had paled at the implications, and while she weakly tried to mock the idea of future-telling visions, the recent events had started making sense.
Mace revealed that Jon Arryn had not sent Lord Royce a message informing him about Lady Cersei's action concerning her children being the product of incest with her twin brother. That Lord Royce was instead a member of the small club of individuals who'd been tormented with things yet to come. Things that cared nothing for the great game and saw the Iron Throne as nothing more than a poor attempt at intimidating the weak-minded. The Others did not care for thrones and crowns, they only cared for snuffing out every last life on Westeros, and possibly beyond these shores as well.
She felt Robb's hand entwined with hers, "Marge?"
A tight smile came to her face as she noticed his concerned look, "I'm fine, I was just thinking of them."
"I try not to," Robb's hand flexed tight in a supportive way, "the world of our fathers' vision was unprepared, we won't let them defeat us this time."
Margaery's smile softened as a warmth came to her, "The kingdoms will be prepared." She'd asked her father about her and Robb in the vision. He had been hesitant but revealed he'd gone along with her grandmother's schemes to put her on the throne. In part it had tarnished her reputation as one husband after the next died, making her seem cursed.
The plan to supplant Cersei failed when Robert was killed by a boar, and she was swiftly wed to Renly Baratheon as the Reach supported his claim over that of Stannis. Robb was fighting for the North's independence following the murder of his father by Prince Joffrey who was made King following his supposed father's death. Renly was killed, Mace was not sure how, but the Reach chose to join with House Lannister, and Margaery was wed to Joffrey. The wedding hadn't even been consummated when Joffrey was poisoned, Mace was reluctant to reveal the culprit but had given a hard look to his mother. Lastly, she'd been married to Joffrey's younger brother Tommen, but due to his age, the wedding had not been consummated, and Margaery and Tommen both died before the Others overran King's Landing.
Their private conversation ended as Olenna spoke up, "Lady Dayne, I am surprised to find you here."
Ashara looked up from where she had been helping Rickon portion his food, "Lord Stark and Lord Robb asked I attend as Lady Catelyn is unwell."
Margaery noticed the way her father and Lord Stark narrowed their gaze on Olenna, the Queen of Thornes wasn't one to be so easily cowed, "Unwell, humph, you Dornish like to beat around a bush. The rumors going around are you silenced her before she said something that might have caused even the vaunted honorable Lord Stark to raise his hand to his Lady wife." Olenna gave a beatific smile, and Margaery nearly grimaced realizing her grandmother was trying to sabotage the evening.
She felt Robb tense at the slight to his father, the implications that he would strike a woman. Yet it was not her betrothed who spoke up in defense of his father. It was Edric, "Pardon my lady, but though I have only recently met my father in person, my uncle was never discourteous when he spoke of him. It may have been some sense of regret after my mother staged her death and how stealing me from her was linked to her demise, but he spoke highly of Lord Stark. I highly doubt a man of father's nature would raise his hand against a woman or child regardless of the insults spoken."
She felt Robb relax at the words of his half-brother, while he had the features of his siblings, he was raised in the south and had experience with the game. Margaery watched her grandmother's eyes narrow on Edric, "Yes, my Lord Dayne, your muddied history. I have heard Prince Martell telling his banners that your mother was treated like an unwilling surrogate by your uncle the previous Lord Dayne. That you were taken from her, yet you only exist because she was most likely keeping Lord Stark from discovering the deception of secreting Prince Aegon from the capital."
"Too bad," Jon spoke up from where he sat next to Sansa, "I'm sure it would have been hard to explain but I'm sure Aegon wouldn't have minded shaving his head and spending the last four and ten years here. Father would have to have claimed Lady Dayne as our mother though, what with Aegon's eyes and all."
Margaery had to stifle a giggle at the fake bastard's snipe, it had put Olenna on the wrong foot more so than Edric's defense of Lord Stark. She had noticed Jon growing more confident in public settings, mostly because Aegon and Daenerys were both less assured around Westrosi nobles. They'd both been raised on filtered and biased opinions of people based on which side of Robert's Rebellion they fought.
Robb chuckled, "This is the North, Lady Olenna, we might not play your silly game of thrones, but we have our game. Someone makes an insulting comment, you throw one right back." He looked at the half-filled goblet of spiced wine in front of him, "though, usually, the game doesn't start until the mead cask is cracked open."
Margaery noticed her father's lips turning up as an expression of amusement appeared, "Was that what Lord Umber and Lord Ryswell were doing last night?"
Lord Stark chuckled, "Aye, while their words were inflammatory there was no true heat behind them. In the North, if you cannot take a few insults and throw them right back, you're not going to survive winter. We all have to rely on each other here, there is no room for petty arguments or underhanded deceit." He looked to Margaery, and she smiled brightly, "Something your daughter has come to deal with remarkably well."
"Oh," Alerie Tyrell mused, "how so?"
A giggle and Margaery told the story, "Shortly after we arrived, Lady Barbrey Dustin showed displeasure in Lord Stark's son taking a southerner as a wife. She made a few remarks questioning my virtue and remarked a flower such as I would wilt under the first snows of winter."
Loras simmered, "I was insulted by her insinuations," Margaery smiled at her brother, it had been Nymeria who kept him from interceding on her behalf.
She continued the tale, "I was surprised by her venomous words as we had yet to be introduced. Lady Sansa informed me later that Lady Dustin had been close to the late Lord Brandon. When I saw Lord Stark awaiting my reaction, I realized something was going on. I figured he was testing to see how I would defend myself, as Lady Barbrey's feelings were not limited to her alone. I stood and informed Lady Barbrey that I was not only a flower but a rose and that while my petals might wilt and fall during winter, my roots and stems would remain strong, and come spring new blossoms would bloom. As for her remarks on my virtue, I reminded Lady Dustin that roses are pretty, but our beauty distracts from our thorns."
Willas went into a coughing fit as he choked on the wine he had been drinking. Garlan patted his brother's back before turning to his sister with a grin, "What was the Lady's response?"
"Nothing," Margaery smirked, "she sat back down as Lord Umber laughed, his remark was barely intelligible, as Robb said this was after several rounds of drinks had been served. Yet it had something to do with her being a spinster I think."
Robb coughed but unlike Willas it was to cover a half chuckle. At her look, he leaned in and whispered, "He claimed not even an ice spider would climb into her," he paused, "umm, lady parts."
Margaery's eyes widened in surprise at the crude jest, "How crude?"
"What?" Alerie frowned at them.
Arya spoke up, "Robb was just telling her about Lord Umber's vulgar comment about an ice spider crawling up Lady Dustin's bum." At her father's glare, the girl winced, "I heard mother complaining to our Septa the next day."
Garlan chuckled, "Indeed, parents should be more careful about repeating such vulgarities around their children." He looked to his wife next to him, "At least that's what my dear wife keeps saying."
Leonette sighed, "When we have children do you want them to speak as you do?"
"We have to have children to find out," Garlan chuckled, "though we do have fun trying."
Willas shook his head, "You have just made her point for her." He then looked to Lord Stark, "Apologies for my brother, I think he got started early with the drinking."
Garlan complained, "You'd have started drinking early too if you thought you saw a ghost."
"A ghost," Sansa smirked, "were you exploring the Broken Tower?"
"Nay," Garland huffed, "I'd heard Prince Aegon and Princess Daenerys were in the godswood. I went to introduce myself and invite them to meet with my father and mother, we were loyalists after all. When I found them there was a man of the Night's Watch with them, he kept his hood up but when I approached, he turned to face me."
"Oh," Lord Eddard took a drink of his wine, she had noticed that he was still on his first glass, "you met Lord Rivers."
Margaery heard a clatter from her father's seat, he'd dropped his utensils, "He is here?"
"Arrived with the group from the Wall," Eddard chuckled, "I have yet to meet him, my brother says he is a peculiar one."
"Understatement," Garlan grimaced before taking another drink.
(Later)
As the meal progressed, Olenna saw her openings to sabotage the betrothal slipping away. She accepted her son had some sort of vision, though she had a hard time swallowing that the Others were returning. To her, the legends of old were just that, legends, and whatever kernel of truth had sparked those legends had died long ago.
Her first attempt to sabotage had been batted away expertly by Lord Dayne, her apparently soon-to-be good grandson's lordly half-brother. She'd tried to reassert her control over the situation but had been stymied by the potential bastard prince. Those boys had kept Robb from losing his composure and had derailed her attempt.
She'd already ruled out killing the young wolf, starting a trail of dead husbands like in Mace's vision would only end in tragedy for her house, and make her granddaughter a target for ridicule. It was also unwise to kill the son of the Hand of the King within the Hand's keep while the King was in residence. Olenna would be hung from one of these barbarians' trees within a turn of the moon.
It was after dessert had been finished when her next opening availed itself to her. There was a knock at the door to the private chamber they'd dined in. The door opened to a woman with a spear, she wore the livery of a servant of House Stark but otherwise looked rugged and wild.
The pup Rickon had quickly identified the woman, "Osha!"
"Evening little wolf," Osha then turned to Lord Stark, "I've escorted Lady Catelyn to your solar as requested."
Lord Stark nodded, "Thank you Osha, see to the children, has my nephew had his supper?"
"With Aegon and Daenerys," the woman Osha did not talk like most civilized people and did not use titles.
Olenna glared, "This woman speaks quite familiarly for a servant."
"She isn't a servant," Robb growled out, "she's a spear wife, sworn to protect my siblings."
Olenna could see she was getting under the boy's skin, men especially the young hot-tempered ones were the easiest to read. She was contemplating how to insinuate something casually that could send the lad over the edge. Yet she would be stymied again as Willas jested, "I'm guessing the name comes from that rather vicious-looking spear she lugs around. Haven't seen a blade head with such a design before."
Osha gave a rather predatory smile, "I designed it specially. It will tear the throat of any who dares to threaten my charges," She spun it to emphasize the wicked hook shape on one side, "but first any who think to harm my Magnar's daughters will lose the weapon between their legs."
Olenna swiftly decided using this woman in her ploys would be more trouble than it was worth. Osha soon left, leading the younger children off to bed. The other younger attendees soon departed as well leaving only the adults and Margaery and Robb. Olenna joined the group as they moved to Lord Stark's solar. Where lady Catelyn awaited, the woman looked pale and rather frazzled.
Olenna saw Lady Dayne enter and take a seat, she focused on the trout who sent a glare at the other woman, "Lady Stark, we missed you at dinner, it is good to see you are well enough for such an auspicious discussion."
Catelyn bristled slightly as she looked at her lord husband. At his nod, she turned to Olenna and replied, "My husband has permitted my inclusion in these discussions as an observer."
"What of Lady Dayne?" Olenna probed, "how do discussions between House Stark and House Tyrell concern Starfall."
Robb spoke up, "She is here by my request." There was no disguising the betrayed look of Lady Stark, the trout looked a mix of anger and sadness Olenna had not seen since Mace was told Willas would never ride again.
"Ah, do you intend to include finding a bride for your bastard brother into these discussions over your betrothal to my granddaughter?" Olenna pressed, "I'm sure we can find a whore willing to be Lady of Starfall."
She saw the rage in Robb Stark's eyes the mirror of that displayed on Lord Stark's face. Yet this time it was Margaery who angled the conversation away from Olenna's snide remarks, "Actually, I was thinking Cousin Elinor. Cousin Alyn is her betrothed, but Aunt Alysanne recently sent word to mother that the betrothal will be annulled due to Alyn's behavior."
Alerie sighed, "A troublesome turn of events, I was speaking with my father this afternoon over it. Alyn tried to rip the heart tree sapling my brothers acquired from the Isle of Faces from its place in the godswood. Elinor was not happy when he told my brother it was to impress her, showing his devotion to the Seven."
Lord Stark huffed, "Sure the High Septon showered him with praise and demanded he is pardoned."
"Possibly one day," Mace shook his head, "my good brothers were not pleased. I am not sure how much you know of the Isle of Faces, but the trials to acquire a sapling are no simple fetes."
Margaery spoke up, "You were planning to send Garlan for one father?"
"I did," Mace nodded, "and he returned triumphantly. He would not speak of the trials in great detail, he said his uncles were still working to complete theirs when he departed. The Greenmen are no myth, and they protect their trees like a Bravosi banker with his gold." Mace shook his head, "What he did say was he ventured into the heart of the isle, and he thought he was there for years wandering between ancient heart trees with faces both beautiful and horrific. He thought he heard voices and conversations, even called out to his mother and me more than a few times when he thought he'd heard us."
"It sounds terrifying," Margaery leaned into Robb, "how did he find his way out?"
Mace smiled, "Strangely enough you dearest one," he chuckled, "he said every time he felt like just sitting down and giving up his quest, giving up everything, he would hear your voice. You were urging him on, telling him he was close, he just had to keep searching. The next thing he knew he was back at his skiff with a sapling in his arms, he could not remember picking it up or bundling its roots."
"The Greenmen are not the only ones to call that isle home," Eddard said, he noticed Catelyn looking disgruntled and moved to redirect the discussion, "we should get on with the business at hand."
"Indeed," Mace spoke swiftly, "we have much to discuss. Margaery's dowery is quite substantial, and I would like to include a matter of trade in this betrothal. We know a winter like none experienced in centuries is about to befall us. The Reach, while not as prone to the cold as the North, we do not know how cold it will get. I propose a trade of any extra furs your hunters can spare in return for nonperishable foodstuffs, grains, dried fruits, and pickled vegetables."
(Next Day)
Theon road out the gates of Winterfell without a chaperone for the first time in months. Since his little stunt loitering at the alehouse for a night of drowning his sorrows in whatever was on tap, he'd been under the watchful eyes of his warden's guards. He'd gotten a dressing down from Lord Stark and watching Lorch's visage appear on that weirwood tree's trunk put a right fear of what the Lord of Winterfell was quite capable of.
His bow and quiver were at the ready, the bow at his hip the quiver lashed to the horse's side. He'd awoken to the keep abuzz with news that Robb and Margaery's wedding would be held this evening in the Godswood. The thing about Northerners, is they don't dally with these matters. As Robb's closest friend, it was his duty to bring in a worthy prize from the Drowned God's bounty. An old Iron Born tradition, Theon had explained it to Lord Stark, not that Theon could make it to the sea and back, but the nearby river was plentiful in carp and catfish, both worthy alternatives.
With as much traffic as Winterfell had been seeing, Theon was not surprised to see travelers on his path, but the familiar visages before him did. A small group of Iron Born, led by three riders. In the front, an old man Theon knew well, "Hail, what brings you north Uncle Harlaw?"
Rodrik Harlaw, better known as the Reader, smirked, "Greetings nephew, we heard of a great many lords gathering and figured we better make an appearance." The Reader noticed how Theon was kitted out, "You not trying to escape, the wolves be chasing yeh?"
"No," Theon patted his bow, "River fishing, Lord Robb is getting married this evening."
"Ah," Rodrik nodded, "showing these green landers the blessings of the Drowned God." The older man looked to his companions, "See Victorian, Theon has made the best out of the shit your brother buried us in."
Theon had never heard anyone speak like that about his father, well any Iron Born that is. The massive form of Victarion Greyjoy urged his horse forward, "You see the wolf's pup as your friend?"
Since his arrival at Winterfell there had been few times Theon would question how the younger boys thought of him. Jon was the easiest, he did not hide his general disdain, and he had yet to get Jon to reveal the reasons for his hatred. Bran and Rickon both came along after his arrival and treated him no differently than one of their elder brothers. With Robb, there had been no secrets between them from the start they had hit it off famously from the very beginning of their association.
"Aye," Theon nodded, "we're as close as brothers." At his uncle's scoff Theon pressed, "I mean real brothers not whatever fucked up bullshit goes on between you, father, and the rest of them."
"Is that any way to speak of our dear father," the third member of the group, the one Theon did not recognize spoke up, "after he sent us to parlay for your release dear brother?"
Theon's eyes narrowed, "Asha?"
"I'm hurt, the first you've seen me in years, and not even a hug," Asha smirked, "but here you are playing at finding a suitable offering. At least we brought real offerings to place on the table."
"What?" Theon snorted, "something stolen from an Essosi trader?"
Asha glared, "It was claimed with the iron price."
Victarion sneered, "Heard a little whisper you did a little hunting of your own."
"You heard about us tracking Lorch?" Theon paused, "What did you mean hunting?"
His uncle pointed to the men on foot, they stood in a circle around another figure. Theon frowned, "Who is that?"
The Reader scoffed, "The former Hand of the Mad King. The disgraced green lander lordling is known as Jon Connington. He escaped confinement in his family's keep some weeks ago. He happened upon us at Lannisport."
Another group of riders came up the road led by another man Theon was familiar with. It had been more than a couple of years since Edmure Tully had graced the halls of Winterfell with his presence. Theon swallowed hard, "My lord, what brings you along this road?"
Edmure raised a brow, "I'd ask you the same, you are far from my good brother's side, does he let you wander so far afield?"
"My warden gives me a long leash," Theon countered, "but it remains, you are not coming from the King's Road."
"Nay," Edmure glared, "I was in Lannisport when your uncles put in for supplies for the voyage north. My companions and I decided to seize the opportunity to curtail the Neck. Your uncle Victarion well earned his captaincy, he navigated the tributaries of the western Neck swamplands masterfully." The heir to the Riverlands sent a glare toward the bound Lord Connington, "We were discussing terms when this feckless coward attempted to sneak aboard your uncle's ship."
Theon frowned, "What kind of idiot tries to stow away on an Iron Born ship?"
"The desperate kind," one of Edmure's companions said, "he fled the Stormlands and kept his head low as he passed through the Riverlands. He knew any port along the eastern coast would be on the lookout for him; the Master of Laws had posted a most generous reward. He thought the west would be safe, his luck was unfortunately poor to have crossed paths with us."
The other companion chuckled, "Lord Bracken and I were blessed if you would with knowledge of the man's current look. He has changed much since we last saw him."
Theon groaned, "You were given visions as well?"
"Aye," Lord Bracken nodded toward the unidentified companion, "Lord Blackwood and I were struck at the same time, poor Edmure here had to keep our short-fused kinfolk from doing anything stupid."
Theon noticed his kinfolk were not confused or surprised by talk of visions, "Who?"
Asha indicated Lord Harlaw, "Uncle Reader, I was visiting when he fell ill."
"I sent warnings to your father of the folly a second rebellion would be." Harlaw huffed, "I also sent that letter to peel the wax from your eyes and keep you from doing something stupid."
"Aye," Theon grimaced, "I didn't take it too well, thought you were telling me to forget ever coming home."
Harlaw looked at his nephew sadly, "Not my intention, but so much has already been changed. The King should have already returned to King's Landing by now, or at the very least be well on his way."
"Agreed," Lord Blackwood spoke up, "but the coming of the Long Night is fast approaching, we need to prepare the Wall."
Asha smirked, "Come Theon, let's go get that offering and let these old men take our friend here to face the wolves."
(Winterfell – Great Hall)
Aegon frowned from his seat next to Robert, Eddard Stark sat on Robert's other side as his Hand. Edmure Tully, Lords Bracken, and Blackwood, and a party of Iron Born had arrived. It was not these arrivals that had made Robert summon Aegon from his lessons. He and the other lads had been witnessing a rather engrossing debate between Maester Luwin and Maester Aemon on the benefits of growing barley over rye. To say he was grateful for the summons was an understatement.
That was the case until he spotted who else had arrived with the Riverlanders and Iron Born. Standing bound and guarded by some of the nastiest Iron Borns he'd ever seen, Jon Connington was barely recognizable under his disheveled clothes and unkempt hair. Old Griff looked nothing like the man who pretended to be his father to protect him, nor did he look like the proud Stormlord who defied his liege lord in favor of Aegon's actual father.
Robert leaned forward in his chair, "Greyjoy, I hear you brought someone interesting."
The Iron Born captain chuckled darkly as he stepped forward, "Aye, a green lander tried to sneak aboard my ship to make his way here, thought I'd escort him to his final destination. He went through so much trouble to get here, after all, be a shame if he got lost."
Robert leaned back with a chuckle of his own, "So, whom we got here?"
"Calls himself Old Griff," Edmure stepped forward, "claims he seeks his son, a lad of around four and ten who is known as Young Griff. Came with a story his crew mutinied and stole his son, said they planned to pass him off as the son of the late crown prince, Rhaegar Targaryen."
Aegon winced as Robert stood, "Those are some heavy charges." Robert looked to Aegon, "My late cousin's son was recently returned to me." He turned back and spoke to the disheveled man, "Old Griff is it, who were these mutinous crew?"
Jon shuffled forward a bit, his teeth gritting as he spoke, "Most are below the notice of such as you, your grace. They are led by a Septa named Lemore."
"Ah," Robert chuckled, "we'll be on the lookout for these conniving fiends of course. It was a miracle Lady Dayne returned Aegon before these villains could enact their dastardly scheme."
Aegon noticed Lord Stark rub his brow in irritation, "Robert, playing the fool was fine when we were boys, but this matter is serious."
A grin appeared on the King's face, "Ned, I'm simply playing along with this mummer's farce."
"Lord Stark?" Aegon frowned, "You both know that is Jon Connington?"
"Yes," Eddard crossed his arms and glared at the unkempt man, "we received word he'd been apprehended by his kinsmen shortly after your arrival. They were to hold him until we returned to King's Landing, but a sympathetic individual released him. The one who released him wanted him to escape back to Essos, but he told them he had to rescue you from the Usurper and his dogs."
Aegon sighed, "I see," he focused on Robert, "Your grace, what will you have done with him?"
Robert rubbed his chin, "Not sure, the craven shite killed a good friend of mine back during the rebellion. Have half a mind to take him out to one of these heart trees and give him the same treatment as Lorch."
"That was war Robert," Eddard spoke up, "we all killed more than a few people who had friends and family. In the eyes of the gods, Connington's only crime is supporting a monster like Aerys."
Robert dropped back into his chair, "Hmph, what do you suggest we do with the pillow biter, no way we can trust him. Everyone who's had a vision of this traitor points to him being unhinged. Pining after a dead man who didn't even acknowledge the man's feelings."
Connington grimaced, "Who are you calling a traitor, you kin slaying usurper?"
Robert nodded, "Aye, I killed Rhaegar, might have busted him up a little had I been told the whole truth. For fucks sake even damn Oberyn Martell was willing to challenge for my Lyanna's hand. Got to know though, were you aware of Lyanna's boy?"
Connington bowed his head, "Yes, Ashara was not aware I had been in contact with Viserys. I did not let the late prince know of Aegon's continued survival but used him for news. I had offered to take his sister into my care, I'd hoped to wed her to Aegon to solidify his claim. Prince Oberyn had shared his suspicions about the true identity of Lord Stark's bastard."
"Viserys knew," Aegon frowned, "why did he claim he was king?"
Connington spat on the floor, "Because the babe is a bastard, he has no claim to your throne."
Robert glared, but it was Prince Doran who stood from one of the side tables and spoke, "I hate to disagree, but as a witness, I can verify that the son of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark is indeed legitimate." He looked around the room, "The boy will have the support of House Martell and our spears against any who would question that."
(Later)
Edmure sat with the few Riverlanders present, his attempts to visit his sister had been futile. Namely for the fact, most of those Lord Stark trusted to chaperone visits were else wise preoccupied. He'd seen his nieces and nephews, including the orphaned Robert Arryn who looked far healthier and more energetic than he'd ever seen the boy before. His three younger nephews had been running their poor Wildling guard woman ragged it would seem. Ned called the woman a spear wife, she'd sworn herself to protect Ned's children and spent most of her time trailing after the three boys.
The heir to Riverrun frowned as he saw Jon Snow and Edric Dayne enter the hall and make their way to the high table. As Lord Stark's good brother he should have a place there, but tonight it was dominated by King Robert, his two bastards and the surviving Targaryen, Tywin Lannister, his brother and son, and Cersei's two younger bastards, and most of the Tyrells and their closest kin.
"Uncle," Edmure looked up to see Sansa approach, "pardon my lords," she curtsied to his men before taking his arm and guiding him towards the high table, "father noticed your absence and is most appalled a place had not been made ready for you."
"Of course," he frowned when he saw Lady Dayne sitting uncomfortably next to his good brother. The seat she occupied would normally be that of his sister, the rightful Lady of Winterfell. Edmure was guided to a seat next to his eldest nephew. Robb was sitting next to his betrothed, and beyond her was her family.
"Edmure, good you could join us," Lord Stark said from across the table, "after the meal, we'll head for the godswood for the wedding and then return for the reception."
He nodded, "Are only those at the high table going to attend the wedding?"
"Us, and the other lords paramount, and a few others. My wife will be escorted by loyal retainers of mine." It was not long before Edmure noticed several lords standing and making their way from the Great Hall. Robb was among those who departed, speaking briefly to his betrothed before departing. Shortly after Robb's departure, Margaery was bustled away by a group of girls to get ready.
Not long after, one of Lord Stark's men appeared and spoke softly, "All is ready my lord."
Ned nodded before standing and looking at those around the table, "Shall we."
"Yes, let us get on with it," Mace clapped his hands before hoisting himself up, "with the way those two have been looking at each other, we'll be grandfathers within the year."
"We'll need a bigger kennel," Ned japed as he looked at the hoard of dire wolves that lay behind the table near the wall. Ned motioned Edmure to wait as the others began to make their way to the doors, "Lord Edmure, I will not deny you to speak with your sister in the presence of others. Cat is unwell, I know not what has afflicted her. She struck a highborn prisoner in my care, the daughter of another Lord Paramount no less. Then she schemed to have another cast out for breaking guest rights by slandering my late sister right in front of me. I do not know if it was the death of your other sister or the knowledge of her crimes that has triggered this paranoia and mania in Catelyn." Edmure moved to speak but Ned halted him, "I have not dishonored your sister since the conception of my son Edric, which I was only recently made aware that momentary indiscretion resulted in a child. Yet in the span of a few days, your sister had twice brought dishonor on my house."
Edmure grimaced, "I am deeply saddened by these turns of events good brother. If my father were in better health I would seek his guidance, but he barely stirs now and I doubt he will see the coming winter." He knew this to be true, both Bracken and Blackwood had told him Old Hoster Tully was soon to walk with the Stranger. "Have you made a decision yet, on what is to be done with Catelyn?"
"I have not," Ned sighed, "Since there is now representation from each of the Seven Lords Paramount present. We have decided to hold a conclave to handle certain matters before we depart for the south."
Edmure frowned, "Who is representing the Stormlands? King Robert would be representing the crown."
"A raven arrived some days ago, we were aware of your arrival. The people of the Neck are quite familiar with the ship you voyaged here on." Ned sighed, "Renly has given his cousin Daenerys Targaryen the authority to cast his vote with the guidance of Ser Barristan." Lord Stark then patted Edmure's shoulder, "We'll speak more on this later, for now, we have a wedding to attend."
(Winterfell – Godswoods)
Catelyn stood rigidly before the heart tree, she'd prefer this ceremony be done in the Sept before the Septon. Yet she had no true voice at the meeting in Ned's solar, it had been a kindness on her husband's part that had allowed her to attend. Then again, permitting her to attend the wedding was another kindness. Her teeth grit at the sight of one of Oberyn's daughters helping Arya adjust the dress the girl wore.
Somehow the bastard young woman had achieved in a few weeks what Catelyn had failed to do in years. Her daughter looked uncomfortable in the gown; the stitching showed the recognizable faults evident in Arya's needlework. Sansa was currently kneeling next to her sister with a needle and thread fixing the dire wolf sigil on the bodice.
Further down the line of her children Osha the wildling was scrubbing at Rickon's face with a cloth before adjusting Bran and Robert's doublets. The woman told the boys to be good and she'd sneak them a treat from the kitchens before bed. Catelyn had no hostility for the woman who had sworn herself to protecting the children. Once satisfied the boys would behave themselves the wildling moved to where Jory stood holding her spear. While the servants were not supposed to pass her information, they often gossiped while bringing her meals or collecting the wash. It would not be long before Osha would have a house name from what the gossip claimed.
She then turned her focus to her eldest. He stood before the heart tree, and his ever-expanding group of friends stood in a position of honor at his side. His half-brother Edric and his cousin Jon were positioned closer than the rest. She glared at the two boys, in her eyes both were nothing more than illegitimate potential threats to her children.
A familiar voice broke her from her thoughts, "Dearest sister, what is with the sour look, you should be happy. Your son had gained such an advantageous match, and it appears he and his betrothed are quite smitten with each other."
Catelyn turned happily to her brother, "Edmure, you made it."
"Of course, Cat," Edmure chuckled, "couldn't miss my nephew's wedding."
"It is good you have come," Catelyn sighed, "I am in need of support."
Edmure sighed, "Ned has told me. Cat, what were you thinking? You struck Lord Lannister's daughter, you schemed to get a guest thrown out of the keep, and in the process slandered your husband's sister. His dead sister mind you who depending on the story was kidnapped and forced to carry the boy you have been nothing but horrible to for the past decade and a half."
Catelyn froze, "How?"
"Lords Blackwood and Bracken had visions of things that had been and things yet to come." Edmure bowed his head, "father might have had visions, he had a fever for a few days some months back. He has not woken though; he lays on his deathbed as he has for the past year."
"I would love to visit him, let the children meet him and see where they come from," Catelyn looked to her children, they had each greeted her warmly, but there was a distance that had formed in the couple weeks she'd been remanded to her chambers, "I'm not sure Ned will let me."
Edmure frowned at her, "What has happened between the two of you, I thought you had come to love one another?"
"There had been genuine affection," Catelyn glared at Jon and Edric once more, "but since that blasted vision, he has become distant. It has only gotten worse since the wolves came, and then the shame of so many high lords prancing about my home, and the reappearance of Ashara Dayne. Even my children have turned to her. Sansa requested that Lady Dayne stood in my place when discussing the terms of this marriage. I thought I had taught them our words Family, Duty, Honor."
Edmure's brows knitted, "Those are our words Cat, your kids are Starks they have to live by their words. Winter is coming. Those words have so much more behind them than you know, they are not simply a fact, they are a warning. Winter is coming, and with the next winter, there is a greater threat than just cold and hunger. I haven't just come for the wedding Cat, I came to speak with your husband on matters of grave importance. If the Wall falls, the North will be the first battleground, where do you think the Others will come once Winterfell is no more? It will be the Riverlands that will have to hold if the North falls, and if we fall, all of Westeros will be soon to follow."
Catelyn was unable to respond as Margaery appeared on the arm of her father Mace Tyrell and began walking towards the heart tree.
(Great Hall)
Kevan Lannister sat at one of the lower tables as Tyrion presented Lord Robb and Lady Margaery with a token gift. A book on the various tales of long-dead Kings of Winter. His nephew had noted the copy in Winterfell's library was worn and missing several passages that had faded over the years. Kevan's gift had been a bit more practical, a gilded nameplate to affix over the alcove in the kennels Greywind had claimed as his own. While the wolves tended to remain with their human partner, they had taken to claiming a place in the kennels when they wanted peace and quiet. The second son of Tytos Lannister could respect that.
He watched the procession of gifts being given to the couple. This was one of the few First Men traditions the Andals had taken to merge with their wedding traditions, though, in a wedding under the Seven, the gifts would be given before the actual ceremony. He looked to where Sandor sat with Gendry at his side, Gendry had presented Robb with new pauldrons in the shape of dire wolf heads, and Sandor gave the customary tithe appropriate for a landed knight. Keven spoke to the boy, "Gendry when did you have time to work on those pauldrons?"
Gendry sighed, "Master Mikken did most of the work, I chose the steel ingots and started shaping. Winterfell's smith makes Master Mott look like a journeyman; the only difference is Master Mott can work Valarian Steel."
"A good skill to have," Tyrion returned to his seat, "you'll of course be able to take up your studies with Master Mott when we return to the capital."
Sandor snorted, "Won't be there long." He motioned to the table where the Stark children sat, "Lord Tywin has volunteered us to escort Lord Dayne back to his seat. Seems the lad is short a few household guards, and the Little She-Wolf will be accompanying her half-brother to Starfall."
Gendry frowned, "Why?"
"Obstensibly to show her father's support in Edric claiming the lordship of Starfall, more practical for the reason the Martells are looking to have her betrothed to Trystane to tie the furthest south and furthest north realms." Tyrion supplied, "There were rumors Prince Doran had offered an alternative match between his brother and Lady Dacey Mormont."
Kevan snickered, "Rumors quelled upon Oberyn's return and the row he and his brother had when the whispers reached him. There's also the fact that Dothraki Khal has been sniffing around her, having his men hoard her time, he's practically laid claim to her without so much as a by your leave."
Gendry watched as the Khal presented two finely crafted horse blankets to Robb and Margaery. Even from this distance he could see the intricately woven wolves and rose brambles on each, "Drogo didn't bring any women with him right?"
"Nope," Sandor said gruffly as he followed his squire's line of sight, "guess Dothraki know how to weave."
Kevan shook his head at them, "Dothraki are not savages, he found a weaver in Winter Town and commissioned the blankets. I was with him and Ser Mormont when the transaction was made."
Tyrion nodded, "Making friends for your long stay here uncle?"
"Making connections," Kevan corrected, "I am to help advise young Robb Stark in governing in his father's stead. With the situations that are bound to come up with the approaching Long Night, we must ensure the North is ready to weather the storm. This will be where the line in the sand is drawn, if the Wall should fall, this is where we tell the dead they will advance no further."
Tyrion frowned, "Yet your vision showed the defense of Winterfell to fail, and the dead still marched unimpeded to the sands of Dorne and across the sea."
"Truthfully," Kevan grimaced, "my vision did not show me that, I only was shown the follies of our kin and kith." The older lion sighed, "Tywin was gifted the full unpleasantness of what is to come. We have only a short handful of years left until white ravens fly and our fates will be laid before us."
Sandor took a swig of his drink, "This wedding is turning into a fucking wake."
"Agreed," Tyrion looked to his uncle, "has there been any decision on what to do with Joffrey?"
"Not as of yet," Kevan shook his head, "he has done well to keep his head down. Heard he has been helping Maester Luwin. Well as much as he can with only one arm. Have you not visited him?"
"Been a bit preoccupied," Tyrion took a sip of his wine, "whatever father saw in his vision must have been truly horrendous when it came to me. I can see no other reason he would curse me with the position of Master of Coin. It is not an honor it is bloody punishment."
Kevan snickered, "Still dealing with your predecessor's misdeeds?"
Tyrion snorted, "If only. Littlefinger got off easy if you ask me. There was a surplus in the treasury when Robert took the throne, and no amount of feasting, tourneys, and whoring could have depleted that. I'm just thankful that conniving little twat from the fingers kept good accounting of his misdeeds. The Master of Laws and I have been corresponding, it will be easier once we're in the same castle, but we have tracked down most of the misappropriated funds. Renly should be cleaning up the Goldcloaks by the time we get back."
At the high table, Robb sat next to his bride as the last of the tithes and gifts had been given. There would be more feasting, drinking, and dancing now. Yet he and Margaery had little care for what was occurring beyond their table. The Lords Paramount and the King were seated with them in places of honor along with their families. Even Catelyn had been permitted to sit with them.
Robb pitted his father as he sat uncomfortably between his wife and Lady Dayne on Robb's side of the table. Catelyn sat between Robb and his father. Watching his parents out of the corner of his eye he noticed the way his mother tried to ingratiate herself to his new kinfolk, while Ashara observed the others at the table, her eyes hardening every time she looked towards Lord Lannister.
Robb also noticed some other tension at the table, Prince Martell was seated next to the Queen of Thorns, a position Robb pitied the man for after her behavior the previous evening. Tired of the strained silence that had taken the table after the tedious platitudes of thanking random lords and ladies for various gifts which served no practical purpose, Robb stood and held up his cup, "Your grace, my lords, to this auspicious occasion which sees us all gathered here. Though a dark time looms before us, let us not be drowned by potential doom. The people must see us as the stalwarts that will see them through the dark and into the light of a new day." Robb held his hand out for Margaery who readily took it, "now I have promised my bride a dance." He looked to his cousin and half-brother, "Jon, Edric find yourselves partners and joins us, I dare say Prince Oberyn's daughters look rather bored with those hedge knights."
Prince Doran chuckled, "I'd be careful lads, they are not only called Sand Snakes because their father is known as the Viper."
Jon took a drink as he stood, "I'll have to beg off to the next song, promised my aunt a dance."
"You're talking about Daenerys, right?" Edric frowned as he stood and walked to his mother.
To both Robb's and Edric's surprise Jon shook his head and walked over to Catelyn, who accepted Jon's assistance in standing. "Well, I promised her too, but she's already dancing with Aegon."
Robb was speechless for a second before looking to his sister who was being assisted up by Loras who'd asked her to dance, "Did you know of this?"
Sansa shrugged, "Lady Dacey said he visited with mother a couple of days ago, but she did not inform on the content of their discussion."
Robert chuckled as he watched the younger lords and ladies make their way to the area cleared for dancing, "Ah, youth. Though Robb had it right, we cannot let the worry of the approaching Others be all-consuming. We must find and cling to these moments of joy while we can, it will be these that sustain us when the enemy comes."
"Well said your grace," Edmure said from his seat, "Ned, now that you are no longer hemmed in between my sister and Lady Dayne, perhaps we can discuss an urgent matter."
"Which urgent matter would that be?" Eddard took a drink of wine as he indicated those around them, "I'm not likely to lose my head to a mad false king, and I have it on good authority Lord Tywin will not be sacking the Riverlands, and my brother brings word the Free Folk have gathered at Hardhome and several other defensible positions to await the fleet already speeding to their rescue."
Tywin mused, "I may not be raiding the Riverlands, but I'll be marching forces through on their way to help fortify the Wall and the North before winter arrives."
"I must have missed the missive on that," Edmure glared, "I was more focused on the standing of House Frey and my niece who as of this evening became the most coveted prize, now that Margaery Tyrell has been cloaked in House Stark's sigil."
Ned's eyes hardened, "I'll put every weasel to the fire before I match Sansa to one of Lord Walder's brood."
"Agreed," Edmure shrunk at the dark look from his good brother, "but if the offer is made you will only incite discord from them. They are an easily offended bunch who often look to their betters with envy and anger." He sighed as he continued, "Under the suggestion of my advisors I am planning to take Roslin Frey as my bride. I am concerned Walder will take such an offer as permission to approach you for the hand of your daughter." He motioned to Doran, "I have heard that Arya is already potentially spoken for, and that leaves Sansa."
Robert huffed, "She's already spoken for as well." The lord's paramount all turned to the king, a gruff expression few had seen on the overweight man in years was present. "I came North planning to offer Ned's daughter a crown, and I can still keep that promise. Aegon needs a bride, and the boy's eyes have turned to a certain red-haired she-wolf." He looked to Ned, "I know you decreed your daughters would marry only the blood of the First Men, and Aegon's veins course with that of Blackwood and Martell."
Ned leaned back in his seat, "If the prince asks for permission to court her, I will not be adverse, but I will not take the choice from Sansa, I will give her the same option I gave to Robb. With any luck, the match will be as well received as Robb and Margaery found theirs."
Doran snorted, "Let us hope my son and your younger daughter find some commonality."
"Arya was always going to be a hard one to find a good match for," Ned growled, "at least in Dorne she will have more freedoms than she would anywhere else. She does remind me of my sister in so many ways."
"You have my word Lord Stark," Doran grips his cup tightly, "your next visit to Dorne will be a much more pleasant affair. One that will eclipse your last visit into nothing more than a distant memory."
On the dance floor, Cat danced with her nephew, or the one who up till a few moons ago she thought was her husband's bastard. It had surprised her when he'd visited her the day, they had returned from hunting Lorch. Jon had been the only one who thought to inform her Robb had returned safely from apprehending the fugitive. The boy may be illegitimate and a threat to her children, but he was thoughtful.
"Lady Stark," Jon questioned, "is everything all right?"
"Yes," even now she could not use his name, "though I am not sure how much longer I will be Lady Stark, your uncle may very well set me aside."
"Father," at her confused look Jon clarified, "Lord Stark did not sire me, but he is the only father I have ever known. Rhaegar did not know me, he thought me to be another daughter when he abandoned my mother in a remote ruin of a tower in the Prince's Pass. Aegon is my brother, and we have agreed Rhaegar failed as a father, we will forgive him his misdeeds towards us, but we cannot forgive his treatment of our mothers or his failure to protect our sister."
Cat blinked at the vehemence in Jon's voice, it echoed the strength of every Stark she had ever met, looking at the boy before her she could see the last vestiges of boyhood were swiftly vanishing. He was a young man ready to fight for his family, but not for the Targaryen blood in his veins, there was no sign of it visible on Jon Snow. Cat frowned, "Why do you still use the moniker Snow, you have multiple people vouching for your legitimacy."
Jon swallowed and she once more saw the little boy who had looked at her in fear after she'd slapped him for daring to call her mother, "I'm not sure. I'm not ready to, and even if I was. Which name would I choose? I have been a Snow all my life, but I was raised like a Stark."
Cat sighed, "I think you have answered your concern."
A short distance away a small space had been cleared as two dire wolves paced around a couple. Edric was still getting used to having a dire wolf, while his younger sister seems naturally inclined to have a large animal nearby at all times. Arya joined Edric after Prince Oberyn had cut in to become Ashara's partner during the dance. Arya was uncomfortable with the movements, and though they were nearly the same size, thanks to Edric's diminutive stature he let her stand on his feet as they went through the dance.
"Why is father sending me to Dorne?" Arya suddenly asked, "Did I do something wrong?"
Edric sighed; he'd only recently learned Lord Stark was sending Arya to Starfall. In all fairness, he thought Arya deserved the truth, that Prince Doran was insistent that Arya and Trystane be betrothed. Edric had been assigned to watch over his younger sister and help ease her into the fact she had a responsibility to their family. Thankfully he was not alone in this hopeless endeavor, he barely knew Arya and he could tell she would be furious when the truth came to light. Their Mormont aunts would be accompanying them as well and taking up residence at Starfall to help cement Edric's claim and deter any threats.
"He feels that Dorne will be good for you," technically a bald-faced lie, Edric had a strong feeling that his Lord father would not hesitate to keep him in the North and let Starfall be taken over by the Daynes of High Hermitage if the stability of all of Dorne was not at stake. It was clear Starks did not do well in the south, but in truth, those Starks had all been on their own, "The lone wolf dies but the pack survives." Edric used one of the sayings he'd heard from Lord Stark.
"We'll have a pack," Arya might not be the most tactful person, but she knew better than to openly admit that Dacey and Alysane were their aunts. Edric had only been informed of their relation before the wedding ceremony when Lord Stark informed him they'd be accompanying Arya and him to Starfall.
Edric smirked, "There is also no Septa at Starfall to make you sit and sew, my family's Septon is also very liberal with his interpretation of the Seven-Pointed Star, his sermons have never lasted longer than a tenth of an hour."
Arya snorted, "I follow the Old Gods."
"Well, we don't have an actual sept so our godswood doubles as our sept," Edric chuckled, "I think most of our services start with our Septon thanking the Old Gods for providing a sanctuary for the Seven to tend to their followers."
"What about your weirwood?" Arya frowned.
"Never had one," Edric frowned, "In Dorne, the godswoods have raised stones with carvings depicting weirwood trees on four sides, with sentinel trees placed in a circle around the stone. At least that's the case for areas inhabited by the Stoney Dornish like me. The houses in the actual dessert don't have trees instead they have carved wood edifices which they paint white and hang red cloths from a scaffold to imitate branches and leaves."
"What about Sunspear and the Water Gardens?" Arya asked, "Nymeria said they have godswoods there."
Edric nodded, "The first weirwood tree I saw was in the Water Gardens. It's said that Lord Stark of the time gifted it to Princess Daenerys upon the completion of the garden, and as a belated wedding gift. There is no face carved in the trunk, though I doubt anyone thought to execute a prisoner and shove his remains under the tree."
"Probably not," as the music ended Arya stepped off her brother's toes, "thank you brother for the dance and speaking with me." She curtsied awkwardly, "I look forward to seeing Starfall and exploring Dorne."
"I am not sure if Dorne is ready for you little sister," Edric chuckled.
Scowling from the back of the room Joffrey Waters frowned at the people celebrating. It was the first time he'd been allowed to leave the maester's tower, he'd been couped up there since arriving at this horrible place. The table he sat at was full of men in the attire of the Night's Watch. "You know son, it is not polite to stare at people."
Joffrey's glare turned to the blonde man who'd sat next to him, a man he had known his whole life as Uncle Jamie. The man who sired him and ruined his life, "Shouldn't you be hiding in some dark corner," his voice took a malicious tone, "father."
Jamie snorted, "I am under the protection of the First Ranger of the Night's Watch. His Grace will hear me out and send me back to the Wall. I can do the most good there."
"The most good?" Joffrey scoffed, "you cravenly fled, abandoned mother and me to whatever fate the man I thought was my father dares to pass. If mother had not been given guest's rights, I doubt Lord Stark would have so self-righteously stepped between her and whatever that fat oaf would have done to her." He indicated his missing arm, "I'm a cripple, no one even cares I still draw breath."
He noticed the way Jamie looked at the missing limb, "You are not a cripple Joffrey and trust me, there are many things you can accomplish with only one hand. I have heard you have taken to helping the maester here."
"I spent most the first weeks with nothing else to do than read," Joffrey huffed, "I thought I could learn a poison to use get back at those who did this to me."
Jamie frowned, "Joffrey, you are no longer a prince, and from what I heard my father has written you off. You have no protection if you step out of line, you don't even have the paper shield of guest rights, though plotting harm to someone under Lord Stark's roof violates those rights."
Rolling his eyes Joffrey looked back to those celebrating, he saw Sansa Stark dancing with Prince Aegon. It should be him getting the Stark girl to look at him with such adoration. "How did everything go so wrong? Mother never makes mistakes, she said the Old Falcon never suspected anything."
"He did," Jamie corrected as he took a drink of mead, "he was about to expose everything, but he made a mistake. He didn't realize his wife was batshit crazy and planned to send his boy to ward somewhere. Your mother offered to send him to the Rock, he'd be a hostage of sorts that way."
Joffrey looked to where the once sickly Robert Arryn was sitting with his Stark cousins and Tommen listening to a tale being told by that wildling woman. Robert was no longer the sickly child Joffrey had often teased, he'd even seen him practicing with the younger boys in the tiltyard from a window in the maester's tower, "Grandfather would have realized what Lady Lysa was doing to him."
"I think we all knew, just so caught up in ourselves to care to do anything about it," Jamie sighed, "that goes for you too. I knew you and your siblings were mine, but I did nothing to curb the idiocy of my sister. I should have been a better father, even Ser Strong set an example for his sons with Princess Rhaenyra."
"What?" Joffrey looked to the older man, "I thought those were only rumors?"
Jamie chuckled, "Maesters write rumors and assumptions, but the white cloaks keep the secrets of their charges. The book chronicling the deeds of the white cloaks details much that occurred in those days. Since only the King and his kingsguard are permitted to read the book, few outsiders know."
"You've read it?" Joffrey frowned, "I thought only your Lord Commander has access to it?"
Jamie scoffed, "It's kept in a communal chamber where the knights meet. After the Rebellion, Selmy and I had a lot of notations to make as we finalized the entries of five of our brothers. We may have gotten a bit drunk and begun perusing past entries. No matter animosity or which side they fought for, the kingsguard were still brothers."
"Well said Ser Jamie," both turned to see Selmy had approached them, "do you have a moment to speak?"
Jamie nodded, "Aye, but I'd prefer to remain here, where the chances of a knife in the back are far less likely."
"Understood," Selmy motioned to the man sitting next to Jamie and he made room for the kingsguard to join them, "I'm sure word of the visions has spread far enough that secrecy is no longer necessary."
"Considering the very obvious moves my father made following his visions," Jamie snorted, "I doubt secrecy was ever in the cards. I'm quite sure he was behind Littlefinger and Lady Lysa departing the game so early."
"Agreed," Selmy scoffed, "but I shed not a tear at their loss. Too many good people died for their selfish desires. Whatever hell the gods sent them to would not be punishment enough."
"Well, that is something else we can agree on," Jamie raised his cup, "to Lord Peter Baelish the worst Master of Coin the realm has ever known, and Lady Lysa Arryn nee Tully may they writhe in eternal torment together."
Joffrey watched the two men drink to the dead, "You both had these visions?"
"Aye lad," Selmy answered, "months before we left Kings Landing, but neither of us recovered in time to prevent Lord Arryn from being killed, though I was not given the details I would have needed to protect him."
Jamie shook his head, "Neither was I, my visions started upon arrival to Winterfell, and I was only told Lord Arryn was dead and Robert planned Old Ned to take the Old Falcon's place."
"So, whoever gave you the visions did not want to save Lord Arryn?" Joffrey asked, "Wouldn't his living have been helpful?"
"Doubt those giving the visions thought about it that way," Jamie surmised, "Arryn was Andal through and through, not a drop of First Men blood ran in his veins. His boy got a bit from his Tully mother, who got it from her Whent family at the very least. Visions were from the Old Gods, they might have grudge against the Arryns, they were the most successful of the invaders at the extermination of the Children of the Forest."
Joffrey had seen the small misshapen figures, they scurried about the keep and were only seen when they wanted to be seen. Even now he suspected there was some hiding under tables and in the rafters observing the wedding celebrations. As though one sensed his thoughts a four-fingered hand crept over the edge of the table and snatched a honey cake from a dish near the edge.
He noticed one of the Night's Watchmen chuckle and take the platter from the table and hand it to the unseen figures hiding beneath them, "Just got to ask, no need to be sneak thieves." The man's voice hinted at that of one originating from the Reach. A moment later the man put the emptied platter back on the table.
As the night went on Oberyn had danced with many partners, most of all his paramour, and the lovely as always Lady Dayne. It was like having part of his family return having Ash with them alive and well, she had always been like another sister to him. Yet the jewel of Starfall had only ever and still only had eyes for the Quiet Wolf, who for proprieties sake could not dance with Ashara with the matter with his wife yet unresolved.
Following a rather lively dance Oberyn found his seat to take a breath, "It appears we have a little she-wolf in our midst," he chuckled as Arya was dosing on the bench along with the younger of his daughters.
Ellaria smirked, "Nymeria convinced her to dance with a few boys her age, your daughters have a way with her, even Lord Stark notices she listens to their advice better than that of her sister."
Oberyn noticed the dire wolf looking towards them at the mention of her name, "I believe it will behoove us to use Nym's nickname," he picked a piece of meat from a platter and tossed it to the wolf, which sniffed the offering before gobbling it up, "or the poor wolf will overeat."
His paramour noticed the look in his eyes as he look at the younger of the Stark daughters, "You are thinking of Lyanna again?"
"If things had gone as planned," Oberyn shifted his focus to glare at Robert, "if there had been no war. Lyanna would have given Rhaegar his third child, his third head for the damned dragon. She would have been free to do as she pleased, Rhaegar told me that the day they wed."
Ellaria smiled sadly, "You would have been at her side in that freedom, instead of mine."
"Who knows," Oberyn smirked, "with your wit, and my charm, there is no telling the outcome. If you only saw the Lyanna I had seen, the fury she had shown against those squires, the skill she had on the tilt yard. For such ferocity, she had a heart that could only rival that of my late sister."
"You speak well of my sister Prince Oberyn," both turned to see Benjen Stark, "I came to retrieve my niece, but could not help but overhear your words."
Oberyn stood and clasped hands with the First Ranger, "We had just missed you upon our arrival, I hope that mountain of shit that rides did not give you much trouble."
"No more than was to be expected," Benjen chuckled, "he was surprisingly cooperative not that he is a great conversationalist. Think the thought of my brother cutting pieces of him off to feed his dire wolf had quelled any resistance to his fate."
"Oh, I am sure that he realized your dear brother keeps his promises," Oberyn chuckled, "I am surprised your brother didn't simply remove the beast's head and be done with him."
Benjen shook his head, "Gregor asked for the Wall and admitted his guilt. In the sight of our gods your sister has been given justice, even if Ned would like nothing more than to let our dire wolves tear Clegane to pieces."
Ellaria blinked, "I thought Lord Stark seemed quite content with the outcome."
"Trust me," Benjen chuckled, "my brother is restraining himself from brutally murdering several people in this very room right now. Be thankful no one from Dorne has somehow gained his ire. Unlike Brandon and Lyanna I was very young when Ned left for the Vale. Father told me the only thing that was important to know about Ned, he is the Quiet Wolf, the most dangerous of the pack for he is the one you don't see coming."
Oberyn chuckled, "I dare say most in the south are quite aware of the terror your brother can bring upon those who cross him. His battle count speaks for itself, it is better to be with him than against him." His attention was drawn to the high table as the music changed and there were calls for the bedding to begin.
(Robb's Chambers – Next Morning)
Margaery awoke to the first rays of sunlight and the mild tingle behind her eyes from drinking a little too much. She smiled as she felt the body next to her stir, their legs still entwined from their activities the night before. Robb's arms were still around her possessively. A knocking on the door drew her attention, but it was Robb who spoke, "Go away."
"Mi lord," the voice of Old Nan called through the door, "It is mid-morning, you both need to break your fast and Lady Tyrell is requesting the sheets."
Smirking Margaery lifted the sheet and noticed the mess, "Old Nan, are those with you, women?"
"Aye, mi lady," Old Nan called through the door.
"You may enter, and have a bath readied, my husband and I need to make ourselves presentable." Margaery prodded at Robb until he started to sit up with a groan.
"The bath is already prepared in the next room," Old Nan called, a bit of amusement to her voice, "along with your morning meal."
Margaery noticed a servant must have entered earlier in the morning as the remnants of their clothing had already been cleared away. Instead, a pair of breeches for Robb and a slip for her were laid on the chairs next to a table. She had just put on the slip when Robb opened the door.
Old Nan entered with two younger servants on her heels. The servants knew their task as they went to strip the bed and take the ruined sheets to be shown to Margaery's grandmother, as she was certain that was the Lady Tyrell calling for proof the deed had been done. The old woman's eyes widened as she noticed the staining had seeped into the mattress, she looked to Robb, "You never were one to do things in half measure. I'll have Walder come dispose of the mattress and bring you a fresh one."
Robb halted her, "Just have him flip it, we have too many guests to worry about finding another mattress, we'll replace it after the royal party departs."
"Aye mi lord," Old Nan smiled, "you'll make a fine lord my boy."
Smiling Robb offered Margaery his arm, "I can only hope."
Tywin frowned as Olena Tyrell examined the sheets coated in the bodily fluids of her granddaughter and Robb Stark. It was a disgusting tradition, one he would rather be lost to time like so many others, like the right of the first night. Olena grimaced as she handed the sheet back to the servant before looking at her son, "Your daughter is no longer a maiden."
"I would hope not," Doran snorted from his place with his Dornish banners across the table from the Reach party, "my nieces were among those who listened at the door last night. I am told some jackalopes do not have the stamina those two demonstrated."
Daenerys cleared her throat from where she sat at the head of the Stormland delegation, though it was smaller in number than the others. Ser Selmy and Ser Berric flanking the young Targaryen princess who sat representing her cousin Renly. She looked to Lord Stark who sat as both Hand of the King and representing the North as Robb was otherwise indisposed, "I have been instructed to extend an offer to ward Lord Robb and Lady Margaery's firstborn child, though a second son or firstborn daughter would are also on offer."
Ned chuckled, "I will extend the offer to my son but it will be up to them to decide such matters."
Robert nodded to his younger cousin with a smile, ostensibly revealing the direction that had come from him. Tywin could see the King wanting to maintain the close friendship between the House Baratheon and Stark. He leaned back in his chair, "I must congratulate House Tyrell on securing such a beneficial union. You have appeased a blood feud that has run to the very founding of our kingdoms. I can only imagine Lann the Clever and Brandon the Builder proudly looking down as Robb claimed the daughter of the ruling house of the Reach, alas you are not of direct descent from Greenhand."
Mace chuckled, "Aye, but what better revenge than allying with the descendants of his greatest foes."
"I can only imagine he is rolling in his grave," Victorian Greyjoy sat next to Lord Harlaw as the only representatives of the Iron Island, Theon, and his sister had gone with the other youths for whatever plans had been made.
Tywin had not paid much mind to the younger residents of Winterfell, though he was surprised when Tommen and Myrcella had been given offers to join in whatever was going on. Tywin looked to Lord Stark, "I believe we should deal with the first matter at hand, I have received word from one of my captains. They evacuated Hardhome and three other settlements along the coast beyond the wall. The Thenn took two ships and went further north to evacuate several settlements that could not otherwise flee."
"The fleets sent to the Bay of Ice have reported in," Mace grimaced, "from the Gorge to the frozen shore, they evacuated fourteen settlements. They reported three confrontations with wrights at the last two settlements before the frozen shore."
Edmure spoke up from where he sat with his Riverlands banners, "How many people did they rescue?"
"In total," Mace looked to Eddard, "ten and four thousand."
Doran swallowed, "Only fourteen thousand people? Did they wait for stragglers?"
"They did," Mace confirmed, "the representatives from Mance's army told them they expected fewer than that from the Bay of Ice. Apparently, that region has been getting hit the hardest with surprise attacks from the Other's advanced forces."
Benjen stepped up to the table, "My lords, that corroborates our suspicions of what has been happening to my rangers the past few years." He placed a map on the table and rolled it out, it depicted the known lands beyond the Wall, "When I reached Winterfell there was a letter from the Lord Commander, refugees from Whitetree and the other villages near Castle Black arrived along with the wives of a man we knew as Craster."
"Knew?" Robert questioned, "he's dead?"
"Dead and burned to ashes," Benjen confirmed, "his youngest daughter-wife appears to have had visions, she killed him to free the rest of Craster's wives and fled towards the Wall. They collected the people of the other nearby villages such as Whitetree on their way; they feared an Other was tracking them. Lord Mormont allowed them to pass through the Wall and they have started a camp in the Gift."
"What other news is there?" Benjen pointed to the Frostfangs, "this region is now uninhabited so says former Lord Commander Rivers, he states the Children of the Forest have fled the lands of the Thenn and the Haunted Forest. Once settlements along the Shivering Sea are cleared, there will not be anyone living in the North."
Tywin frowned, "What of the Giants? My captains report a handful, but report a majority of them made for the Wall."
"They passed through Eastwatch last night," Bloodraven moved from the corner he'd been lurking in to stand next to Benjen, "Word of them will reach the Lord Commander later today, we could expect word here in three to four days."
Benjen grimaced at the former Lord Commander, "Our estimates would put them at around seven hundred, we've never seen them in this number before."
"That is because they have not left the Thenn in over a thousand years in such a mass migration." Bloodraven countered, "the Others have never been a threat to them before now."
Eddard stood and point to the map, the area of the Gift near Last Hearth, "I have spoken with Great Jon, he requests most of the free folk remain clear of his holdings, but he will consent to the Giants taking up grazing lands near his herds."
Edmure blinked, "The Umbers herd mammoths?"
"No," Ned snorted, "but it might explain why his family bred such wooly cattle." Eddard pointed the area around Karhold, "The Karstarks have agreed to shelter refugees as long as they agree to act in accordance with our laws and customs, in short, no stealing women as wives and no stealing in general."
Benjen nodded, "I can supply a few wandering crows to help settle disputes and deal with the language problems that will no doubt erupt. Our dialect of the Old Tongue has a couple of nuances that differ from the lower speech used by most free folk."
"I thought everyone in the North spoke common," Robert Arryn sat with Mya and Lord Redfort to represent the Vale.
Ned looked to his nephew and smiled slightly, "You have only been in Winterfell or around highborn, the commoners still speak the Old Tongue in private between themselves, they use common only when doing business with Southrons."
Doran chuckled, "Much as some of my people speak in Rhoynish still, and some Stoney Dornish speaks a variant of the Old Tongue."
"Yet their Old Tongue dialect would not be understood by those in the North, regional dialects were quite varied, that was one of the reasons the Andals overwhelmed our ancestors so easily," Mace sighed, "and why common was adopted so readily as the main language of the highborn." Mace frowned, "though, that does beg the question," he looked to Eddard, "How did the North even learn to speak it? Your lands were not conquered by the Andals."
Ned shared a look with his brother before looking to the curious lords, "What do you think happened to the army of peaceful Septons sent to try and convert our ancestors?"
Edmure grimaced, "Popular opinion is they were eaten by the heathen barbarians that resided in the north."
"I can't speak for the Boltons or Umbers, but Starks have never been known for cannibalism," Ned looked to where Lyanna lay next to him, the dire wolf looked at him knowingly, "but that's not to say we didn't feed them to our wolves."
Mace was the only one to laugh, "Very funny Lord Stark."
"Wasn't a joke," Benjen deadpanned, "our last ancestor with a dire wolf, reportedly it died after choking on a misshapen bone of the last rebellious Lord Bolton of the Dreadfort." Every lord and lady present suddenly felt the eyes of the two dire wolves in the room on them.
Notes:
Just something on geography I was checking the wiki of Ice and Fire maps during the last scene and noticed they have the Dreadfort positioned to the north east of Winterfell. I checked in my copy of the World of Ice and Fire book, and the map presented there shows the Dreadfort positioned more to the south east of Wintefell. I haven't compared the two maps very closely but I think they have Cerwyn positioned too far to the south and have put Winterfell where it should be. Not to beat around fiction maps but we'll be going by the World of Ice and Fire map.
