Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun

Chapter Sixty-Three

She hadn't been able to stop crying, no matter how much she had tried too. Every single breath she took hurt and after she had breathed in, another fit of sobbing overcame her. Her eyes were red and raw from crying as much as she had been and it seemed just another little pain to be added to the list of pains she was made to suffer.

Lysa could still not believe it, it had been like something out of a terrible dream. When she had saw her betrothed standing in front of the King's box she had thought that he had looked so very beautiful with those golden curls and those emerald eyes. Not even the Prince could be more beautiful than him that day and when she had saw the Princess smiling at her like they were already sisters, it had been something out of the sweetest of her dreams.

And then it had turned into a nightmare when he had fallen to his kneel and had pleaged his sword and his honour and his life to the King and then the King had taken it all and had given him a white cloak in return. It had been so unfair, all her dreams turned to dust right in front of her and then everyone in the stands had looked at her with such pity in their eyes.

She hadn't been able to take it and so she had picked herself up and ran as far from the stands as she could get, as fast as she could with her face buried into her hands. She had made it back to the apartments that had been given to her and her Father and had taken refugee in her bed chambers and had thrown herself into her pillows and sobbed and sobbed.

Lysa was fairly sure that she hadn't stopped since that tourney, her Father ensured that they got back to Riverrun as soon as they could. Lyanna Stark being crowned by the prince was enough of a distraction for them to slip away even if she did not want to slip away. What she wanted to do was to run to Ser Jaime and fall to her knees in front of him, beg him to change his mind. Run to the King and implore him to reject Ser Jaime's vow.

But it was too late, it was done. Jaime had been given his white cloak and was now a sworn brother of the Kingsguard. Her Uncle had told her while he had been trying to comfort her that Jaime could not be released from his vows now, if he did then he would be an Oathbraker and there was no greater shame than to break an oath to a King, even if that King was mad.

But for all that her uncle had tried to cheer her, it did not work. The whole world seemed a great deal darker than it had done before and it did not help that she could tell that her Father was furious with her. Lord Hoster had always scared her, ever since she was a girl. She did love him all the same but he had always been fonder of Cat and whenever she had done something wrong he would always yell at her and make her feel awful and stupid and make her cry as well.

Often times, when she knew she had done something wrong, she would go and run and hide rather than face her Lord Father's wrath. It would be more often her Uncle Brynden who would come and retrive her as he always seemed to know where she was even if she chose a different hiding place each time. It did not matter if she hid herself in a cupboard, in an alcove or in the godswood the Blackfish would always find her and he would always coax her out. Hiding from Father only made him more irriate with her not that it ever stopped her from trying.

But even with all the times that her Father had been angry with her, and he always seemed to be angry at her and never angry with Catelyn and with Edmure, she had never seen him like this. He would not speak to her, he would not speak to anyone after what had happened. His face was pale and drawn and his eyes were dark as night.

Ever since they had returned to Riverrun Lord Hoster had confined himself to his solar and had not come out since, he took all of his meals in there and apparently had a chamber pot brought in so he could use the privy. He saw no one except his brother, the maester, the steward and the master-of-arms. Not even Cat had seen their father's face since.

Was the shame that had been done on both of them so great that he could not even bare to look at her anymore? How was that fair? She hadn't been the one who had been abandoned by her husband who had run off with a whore and left with child. Not as though that had stopped their Lord Father from travelling thousands of miles to go and get Catelyn back, something she knew that Lord Hoster would never do for her.

It seemed no one cared that Catelyn was damaged goods, Elbert Arryn did not seem to care. The heir to the Vale was not overly handsome with brown hair, skin that was too pale in her mind and a pair of large blue eyes but he was hardly a challenge to look at either. And he would one day rule all of the Vale just as Cat's former husband once would have ruled all of the North.

If he cared at all once he saw that Cat's belly was big with child then he did not seem to show it, if anything he seemed to have made it his mission to get her sister to be happy. Lysa might have found it in herself to be happy for her sister if not for the fact that all she wanted to do was throw her in the river to drown. It was an evil thought, she knew and yet she could not help but think it. Cat always seemed to get the happy ending, the sweetest prize while all Lysa was left with were the scraps and expected to be content with them.

She might have been one of the greatest ladies to ever rule in the land once, what castle could truly compare to Casterly Rock? She had never truly seen it herself but she had heard a thousand stories of it, a castle carved into a mountain with an endless amount of gold buried inside of it. And she would have been it's lady, before it had all been ripped away from her.

Another rough sob ripped it's way out of her throat at the thought and her eyes burned as another wave of tears began to roll down her cheeks. It just wasn't fair.

The door to her chamber opened and a maid come in, a mousy tiny thing with brown hair framing her face. She folded her hands in front of her and bowed her head. "My Lady, may I please bring you some food? Some bread and honey, or some fish perhaps?"

Her belly did rumble at the mention of food, she couldn't remember how long it had been since she had eaten. She must have eaten at some point between leaving Harrenhal and her maid coming in, otherwise she would have starved to death by now but she couldn't remember whatever it was that she had. The pain of her empty stomach at least distracted her from her pain and she nodded.

Her maid left then with a promise she would be in only a few moments with some food and Lysa sat up in bed even though her entire body seemed to be protesting at the movement. A porcelain bowl of water scented with rose petals was waiting on a table as her bedside with a cloth of white silk. She dipped it into the water and began to scrub at her face.

It didn't exactly make her feel better but it was at least a change from feeling tired and sad. Once her face was clean and she left the cloth to sink to the bottom of the porcelain bowl her maid chose that moment to return with a tray of food. Her maid did not look like the strongest woman in the world but that did not stop her from carrying a tray almost weighed down with food.

Her belly might have been demanding to be fed and yet the motions of eating seemed too great a task for her at the moment and so she simply stared at the food, wondering what Ser Jaime might have been eating right now. As they had been packing their cases to return to Riverrun another of her maids had told her that she had overheard that Ser Jaime had been sent back to King's Landing in order to protect Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys who had both been sent back the night before Ser Jaime swore his vows.

That meant that he would be in the capital by now, at court. He would have access to the finest of foods in all of the kingdoms, food that would make the fare of Riverrun look most plain by comparison. She wondered if he was thinking of her now as she was thinking of him? She liked to think that he was, perhaps his Father preferred his eldest daughter as well and wanted his son to be in the capital to protect her, he did have another son after all though Lysa was shocked that Lord Tywin would want a dwarf to be the Lord of Casterly Rock one day.

Her maid placed a bow of rose hip soup and lavender soup in front of her and cut a loaf of bread in half and began to spread it with butter and handed one of the halves to her. Lysa forced herself to dip it in the soup and nibbled half of it away before forcing herself to take a few spoonful's of soup as well, the sweet taste made her empty stomach roll.

Her maid sadly did not seem satisfied and looked as though she was about to try and make her try and eat more soup or make have some of the berries or some bacon or fish or whatever else she had brought to her on the tray but she was spared from that as for the first time in her life, she was glad to see her Septa as she walked into her bedchamber.

Septa Talisa wasn't as bad as that witch of a septa she had from her girlhood but she was still as wicked as only a Septa could be, the sight of her seemed to offened the heavy set older woman who scoffed at her and shook her head. "Now, my lady. This has gone on far too long as it is. We all feel a great deal of pity for you, what happened was terrible but your Father has heard word of how you lay about in your bed all day. Laziness is a grevious sin in the eyes of the gods and is below the dignity of a lady of a great house like yours, now come along, get yourself up and dressed."

She didn't want to get up and get dressed, she wanted to stay in her bedchamber and rest in the dark until all of the world went away but she knew that the septa wouldn't let her be and if she told her leave then she would just go and tell her Father and that would only make Lord Hoster more wroth with her and she didn't want that. She turned her attention to her maids. "Fetch Daisy and Tansy and have them prepare me a bath and then get me a dress ready."

Her septa smiled in approval and stepped outside the room as the two common girls came into her chamber with two large clay jugs filled to the brim with steaming water which they used to fill a copper tub. Her maid removed her shift and set out a gown on to her bed as Daisy and Tansy helped her into the tub, the warmth of the water made her all of her muscles relax and it was the best she had felt in what seemed an eternity.

Daisy scrubbed at her arms and Tansy focused on washing her hair, tending to the knots that had formed in her thick aurban hair. Once she was clean and a dried, she dismissed the girls and her maid began to dress her. With a fresh new shift on her she was soon dressed in a light blue dress with seawater pearls on the bodice and Myrish lace sleeves.

Once she was dressed her septa came back into the room and suggested that she might want to have a walk outside to get some air before coming to pray into the sept to gain some comfort. She wasn't sure what comfort the gods would give her but Lysa was not in the mood to argue with the old woman so she simply nodded and followed the godsworn woman out into the corridor.

The courtyard of Riverrun was as busy as it normally was, squires and stableboys running in and out of the stables, maids bringing up water from the wells and the sound of hammers clanging against metal coming from the castle forge. But all that Lysa cared about at that moment was the sight of Catelyn sitting on a stone bench with one hand on her swollen belly as she watched her new betrothed teaching their younger brother and his squire how to show arrows at their targets set up at the other end of the courtyard.

Lysa walked over to the bench and sat down next to her sister and watched with her as Elbert bent down next to Edmure and told him a better way to stand, adjusting him with his own hands. The feel of a soft hand taking hold of her own and squeezing it gently made her turn her to attention to Catelyn who gave her a smile. "How are you feeling? I am sorry that I didn't come to you sooner, but I couldn't leave Elbert and I wanted to give you some time on your own."

Her words and her touch and her smile and her kind eyes was enough to make her feel terrible for all of the dark thoughts she had thought of her sister when she had been laying in the darkness of her chamber. She tried to smile back, but she knew that Catelyn would see right through it. "I-I just don't understand what it was that I did wrong? I would have been a good wife to him Cat, I swear that I would have. I would have been pleasent and kind and meek and given him strong sons and beautiful daughters and never would have spoken to him harshly. Why would he do that to me? In front of all those people, am I so very ugly? That men would perfer a life of celibacy and service over me?"

She could feel the tears starting to well behind her eyes again but Cat was there, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close and bringing her hand up to stroke through her hair just like Mother used to do. Or maybe it was Cat that she was remembering? She had been so young when Mother had died and there had been many nights when Cat had stroked her hair to give her comfort.

Of course, that thought only made her feel all the more guilty of what she had been thinking about Cat before and thus caused a fresh wave of sobs to escape from her mouth as Cat continued to stroke through her hair and whispered soothing words into her ear. When Lysa heard the sounds of footsteps, she thought it must be her septa approaching, come to reproach her for macking a scene that the stable boys would talk about over their cups later tonight but it wasn't the septa. It was Petyr.

He looked beautiful, as he always did. Dressed in a fine dark blue doublet with gold thread around the neck and the sleeves with a silver pin in the shape of a mocking bird over his breast. He looked tired, as though he had not been sleeping as of late and dark circles surrounded his mint green eyes. He glanced between both of them for a moment before his eyes landed on Cat and stayed on them.

"Cat." Petyr fell to his knees and took hold of Cat's hand, staring up at her from where he knelt. Catelyn stared down at him, too shocked to take her hand away. This was drawing more attention than her breakdown in her sister's arms. Ser Elbert had turned away from the range with a frown and the septa frowned and turned and hurried back into the castle, more than like to go and get Lord Hoster. The Septa knew what Petyr was about to say just as the rest of them did.

"Please, my Lady, for all the days of our childhood together. Please listen to me." Petyr spoke, his voice was as soft as a whisper and Lysa was sure that she saw tears in his eyes. "I have loved you, from the first day that I saw you. I swear that my love is true, the thought of you haunts me as I try and sleep at night and when you were wed to Brandon Stark and sent North, I thought my heart would be torn in two. I thought I would not survive the pain of it."

"When you came back, I thought that the gods had answered all of my prayers. I thought I would never see you again, and then I did." Petyr turned his gaze away from her face and glanced down at her belly. "Wed me Cat, please my love. Don't reject me. My lands are...humble, I will not deny it. But I will rise high, I swear it to you. And I will make your son, if the babe is a boy, my heir, all that is mine will be his one day. Wed Lord Elbert, and what will your son be? A bastard, tolerated in his halls but naught more. Please my love."

"Petyr..." When Cat spoke, it was so soft and so sad. And Lysa could see the no written all over her sister's face, just as Petyr could. In that moment, Lysa hated her just a little bit. Here was poor Petyr, pouring his heart out for her, swearing to love her, to make her child who was not even his the heir to his lands and Cat was going to reject him.

But it seemed as though the world was still willing to let Cat have everything, as she did not need to be the one who would reject him. Lord Hoster came stormed out into the courtyard at that moment, his face was bright red and his eyes were so narrowed that Lysa could barely see them in his face and his hands were clenched into firsts. Behind him, Ser Brynden, the maester, the steward, the master-at-arms and the septa hurried after him.

Lord Hoster grabbed Petyr by the scruff of his neck and hauled him up on to his feet and for a moment Lysa was terrified that her Father might strike at him. "Boy." The word was growled out as the Lord of Riverrun shook his ward. "I do not know what you think you are doing, but I am telling you now that I am putting an end to it. Come with me, now."

Her Lord Father began to drag Petyr towards the keep but he managed to slip free of his grasp and ran over to Ser Elbert and took off his glove, throwing it at the knight of the Vale's feet. "Ser Elbert Arryn, I challenge you to a duel for Lady Tully's hand to be wed. Do you accept?"

Elbert Arryn blinked, as though he did not understand the question. He stood a good half a foot taller than Petyr and Lysa's heart jumped into her throat at the thought of him fighting the bigger man. Mother have mercy, he was going to get himself killed. Perhaps the Mother had answered her, for Ser Elbert merely frowned and shook his head. "My lord, I do not wish to fight you."

"Then I name you a craven." That caused Elbert Arryn to narrow his eyes at Petyr but he was spared from retaliating as Lord Hoster chose that moment to intervene. Spinning Petyr around to face him, grasping his upper arms so tightly that Lysa was sure that he would bare bruises from the hold. But bruises would be the least of his concerns, he looked like he was about to kill him.

Lysa chose that moment to stood up and run over, hoping to find the words she needed to intervene. To save him. But Lord Hoster did not strike out, but he did speak. "I took you into my home, raised you alongside mine own children. I fed you and I clothed you boy, you. The great-grandson of a sellsword, a foreign sellsword. This is how you repay me for my kindess?"

"Do not touch me, need I remind you that I am a lord in mine own right?" Petyr cried as he shrugged out her Father's grasp once again, glaring at him with more heat than she had ever seen before. He turned his glare from Lord Hoster to Ser Elbert. "Well, what say you Ser? Will you accept my challenge or will you bare the title of craven?"

Ser Elbert was silent for a long few moments, he glanced at Cat and then turned his attention back to Petyr. "Very well my Lord, I accept your challenge." He turned his gaze to his squire. "Anders, come with me. I need you to get my armour and my sword ready." The boy, a little thing with blond hair and blue eyes nodded and Petyr then knelt in front of little Edmure.

"Lord Edmure, would you do me the honour of being my own squire for this duel in deciding your Lady Sister's hand?" Father looked like he was about to explode in rage, Edmure stared at Petyr like he had never seen him before in his life. Their little brother looked at Cat for a moment before he turned his attention on to Ser Elbert, a determined look in his eyes.

"Ser Elbert, might I squire for you as well as Anders in this duel? I can help!" Petyr looked as though Edmure had stabbed him in the heart with a dagger. All he did was let out a bitter chuckle. Ser Elbert said nothing, but simply nodded and made his way back to the castle with both boys scurrying after him. Petyr turned and hurried into the castle, most like to go to the armoury, his face a storm cloud.

Both men returned soon enough, Lord Elbert's armour was a finely made steel gorget, a steel breast plate with no decoration, a half helm topped with a plume of white feathers with a steel shield with the sigil of House Arryn painted on it in one hand, as Anders brought forth his scabbard from which the knight of the Vale drew out his long sword.

Petyr was armed with a longsword as well, but it seemed made out of cheap iron where Ser Elbert's was castle forged steel. Where Elbert Arryn wore a steel breastplate, Petyr favoured only a mail shirt, a leather cap on his head and he did not carry a shield. Cat walked over to her betrothed then and whispered something into his ear that Lysa could not here. Ser Elbert nodded, however.

Petyr looked even smaller in his armour, and when he walked over to them and asked Cat for her favour and she rejected him so coldly, he looked even smaller. Still, he walked back to his place and held his sword up high.

Lord Hoster had walked back into the castle, going back to his solar and washing his hands of the business he had said. The Maester had scurried after him like a little grey rat but the Blackfish and the Master-At-Arms had stayed behind to watch and their septa stood at the side of them, to watch them more like than to watch the duel.

The two men circled one another for a time, and when the time came to strike it was Petyr who struck first. He moved so quickly that his sword was a blur in his hand, but Ser Elbert brought up his shield to block it and then used the hilt of his sword to slam into Petyr's wrist. Even from where she was standing Lysa could hear the crack of bone and Petyr let out a cry of agony as he fell to the ground and dropped his sword.

As Petyr laid on the ground, cradling his wrist, Ser Elbert stood over him and pointed his sword down at him. When he spoke, his voice was not unkind. "Yield, my lord. You will not be able to fight with that hand anymore and you can not swap hands in the middle of the duel, your balance will be thrown off to start with. So yield, there is no shame in it."

With tears streaking down his face, Petyr croaked out his surrender. Ser Elbert put his sword down and held his hand for Petyr to take so that he could help him to stand up but Petyr simply took hold of his leather cap and threw it at Elbert's chest, struggled to his feet and ran away. Lysa's heart swelled with pity and she followed after Petyr as the rest of the castle gathered around Ser Elbert and cooed at him.

She found Petyr sitting on a padded bench beneath a window that overlooked one of the windows, holding his bruised wrist close to his chest and glaring down at the water as fish breached the surface and held in the air before the fell down into the river once again. "Petyr?" She spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. He might hurt his wrist if he jolted.

He did not jolt, he simply turned to look at her with the same dark look on his face. He scoffed at her, and that hurt almost as much as Jaime Lannister forsaking her for a life of endless vows. He turned away from her then. "Your Father will send me away, back to the Fingers. That little miserable rock that's stained of sheep dung, he will not forgive me for this. Will not overlook it, though I loved Cat more than any of the men he would sell her too."

Every word was a different dagger to her heart, but Petyr could not see that so Lysa merely wiped her tears away before they could fall and cleared her throat. "I will speak to my Father, I can ask him to let you stay-"

"Yes, because he has always valued your opinion?" He scoffed as her then, and shot a scornful glare at her over his shoulder. "Just, go away Lysa."

How had she ever thought that he was beautiful, with his eyes that were so cold and with his nasty little lowborn features? The pain that Ser Jaime had left her with throbbed within her chest and it demanded her attention more. So fair enough, if Littlefinger did not want her help then she would not offer it. She spun on her feet then and marched towards her bedchamber, she was tired.

A few days later, when Baelish was given a small escort to take him back to the fingers. None of the Tullys were present to see him go and Lysa spared not a thought to him.

End of Chapter Sixty-Three.

Another chapter done and dusted.

So, a quick couple of things about the duel.

Okay, so Elbert of course has a squire while Brandon does not cause Squires are not so common in the North. Another thing that some people might noticed is that Elbert does not take off much of his armour like canon mentions that Brandon does when he sees Littlefinger's armour, or rather what he can get a hold of it. Which might make it seem like Brandon is being more honourable in canon then Elbert is here.

But, Elbert is simply honouring Cat's request. Ending the fight as quickly as possible, disarming Petyr without hurting him beyond anything he can recover from. Brandon gave Petyr a dozen wounds, and a cut can be lethal in Westeros. Never mind the fact that he almost basically gutted him as well.

Also yeah, canon tipping point in this Chapter. Not to give a lot away for the future, but I love writing Lysa. That is all.

With a lot of love,

DiscordantSymphony