Mya
The swords sang in the courtyard.
Mya often watched her husband when he sparred with visiting knights and lords at the Bloody Gate. Mychel normally won. He was quick and skilled despite his youth. "The most promising knight in the Vale." Men said of him. It always made him blush like a maiden. Her hands drifted over her womb. The two combatants circled and exchanged fierce blows as a crowd of onlookers watched. Even the guardsman on the walls watched their lord fight. Jasper gave a good showing but was clearly outmatched despite his stubborn defiance to continue the dance. As stubborn as the mules, she once rode. Parry. Counter. Overhand. The tempo increased into a violent blur of steel as Jasper Arryns' sword went flying and Mychel pressed his blade towards his neck.
"And that is why you are my Knight of the Bloody Gate!" Jasper said, smiling, and led the clapping for her husband.
Mychel was gracious, even in victory. "Well fought my lord." He dipped his head. "You almost had me once or twice."
Jasper chuckled. "No need to fib ser! The day is yours! I yield to your talents!" He grasped him on the shoulder and gave a flashy smile that had Mychel grinning like a fool. Oh, Mychel, you are too easily impressed. She loved him, but the fool saw only what others showed him. Other knights tried their hand facing Lord Arryn as Mychel approached her with a doting smile and kissed her on the cheek. "Enjoy the show, Mya?"
"I always enjoy watching you work up a sweat." Mya winked.
He reddened. "It was quite the bout." He said as the song began once more. This time one of the many Belmores who was quickly being overwhelmed under Jasper's powerful blows.
"I should be going with them." Mychel said. "I should be riding off to war with my liege. I know being the Knight of the Bloody Gate is a high honor, but it feels wrong to be hidden away while others fight." All the lords and knights were talking about the War for Lady Margaery's Ear. It was an exciting time to be riding off to war, and they were confident in the Falcon Knight to lead them. Young he may be, but they considered him a master hunter of beasts and a brilliant tourney knight. A martial figure of courage whom looked natural on horseback. Lord Yohn and Ser Brynden were often by his side as he inspected the host assembled before the walls. Two martial lords of great renown and respect. It solidified their sense of success. How could they lose? Even the Lord Regent was an honorary Valeman and well regarded amongst the Vale Lords. Spirits were high amongst them and it wasn't just the ale that was offered often and freely. The potential riches and rewards that could be derived from the conflict had seduced even the cautious lords. Glory hounds and cautious hens alike love this war. Her good father, Lord Horton Redfort, was his strongest supporter thanks to Lord Arryns' favor. And he suspects a key appointment in the host for it.
It was hard for Mychel to stay behind, but she was thankful for it. They had a good life at the Bloody Gate. The nights they lay together and made love while during the day he led patrols and oversaw the castle and she ran the household. They saw one another often. Their room was comfortable, and the walls were stout. It was a suitable home for the two of them. I was given an actual name. Mya Redfort. She shot him a teasing smile. "Am I not good enough for you, Mychel?"
Mychel brought her in close with a loving look. "You are silver lining." He said and kissed her on the brow.
"But you are weary of being named craven." Mya said bluntly. She had grown up with rough men and mules. Honesty was better than flowery lies lords and ladies often told.
"Aye." He swallowed. "I am."
It was stupid, and she told him so. He was as skilled as a young knight as she had seen. He had shown his courage with his patrols against the Mountain Clans. Only fools would claim that. And who cared for the opinions of fools? "Tonight." She whispered, her eyes wandering down, undressing him. "I'll make sure you feel better."
Mychel's eyes widened as he looked like the luckiest man in the world. I do like seeing that look on his face. And if they were not in the courtyard, she would have eaten his face off. In the distance, Jasper stood triumphant over his opponent as he graciously helped him up and declared he was done for the day. His broad smile for everyone was false as his cheerful demeanor while he shook hands and kissed the cheeks of maidens. The broad smile became subdued as his eyes saw Princess Myrcella. He only afforded her a single nod of acknowledgement. Political indifference. My half sister. She had little of her father in her taking after the queen; she supposed. A delicate blond creature from the south. Her cheeks were a rosy red from the wind. "I suppose Lord Arryn has other duties to attend to." Her husband said dumbly. "A pity I may have asked him for another bout."
"You would have won another bout."
He waved her off, ever modest.
Oh, I know where he is off too and I'll be there waiting.
The stables smelled of straw and shit and the horses that were housed in the stalls. It was a place Jasper Arryn often sought refuge when he wished to relax from the gaze of others. He found comfort in animals more than he did in man. I shouldn't meddle in his life so. But she felt she owed it to the irksome boy that constantly begged her for more carrots to feed the mules. No one seemed to care for him. Neglected by his parents as if he were a bastard. It was an open secret amongst the household not to get too close to the boy, less they wished to get sacked. She had watched him grow up from a kindhearted lonely boy into a lonely man hiding behind a false smile and his sword. Though he seemed different since she last saw him at the Bloody Gate. His distance almost seemed forced, and it gave her pause. Had he found happiness, after all? Jasper doesn't trust easily thanks to that no good Harry.
He had left cheerful and excited to meet his kin and returned to her with a sullen look and a cut lip, but his eyes were filled with ice.
"Do the lords think me pampered?" Jasper asked. His tears had long since dried. "Do they think me a weak falcon?"
Mya saw little reason to lie to him. "They do, my lord." She admitted.
She merely confirmed what he already knew as his little hands pressed a letter to her. "Give this to my granduncle. He is the only one that can help me." When she hesitated. "Please Mya." He begged. "No one else will listen to me." She snatched the letter from his hands, knowing the risks. If Lady Arryn discovered her involvement, they have sent her away. Even Lady Arryn, living in the capital, was small comfort. She had eyes and ears everywhere on the household. But she couldn't leave him to his fate. It wasn't fitting for the son of Jon Arryn to languish away. House Arryn needed to soar.
"What, you don't think I saved the bastard's life? I'm pretty good with a sword, you know." Jasper's voice echoed past the stalls.
Arrows chestnut eyes saw her, but gave no warning. My presence amuses it. "Well, I did. By the Seven Arrow, you are as dumb as a horse."
Arrow snorted, and Mya stifled her laughter, biting her tongue. It was something she shared with him, talking with the beasts. My mules spoke to me in the common tongue as well.
"Yeah, I am funny. How do you think I charmed the princess?"
"I know it wasn't through my looks!" Jasper laughed. "Gods help me, I'm nervous. This wedding is making me nervous. I love her Arrow. I really do. I just want to find some drunk septon and get this done!" Her jaw nearly dropped. Love? He used that word! Mya was amazed. But why did he ignore her so? Why pretend otherwise? It was an enigma, but one which didn't require her meddling. He was fine and didn't require her help. She could feel a sense of relief in her breast. it's all she wanted for him to find happiness as she found it with Mychel. I always knew he wouldn't give up. Every time he fell off his horse, he got right back up.
Forgotten children understood one another, bastards or trueborns. We seek the same happiness we were deprived.
"Of course I know what to do! How-" Jasper turned around and oddly didn't scowl or look upset at her presence. A small smile graced him. "Now I see the joke in Arrows eyes." He chuckled. "Accursed beast normally lets me know when someone enters, but I suppose he has always liked you."
"Don't be too harsh with him, my lord."
Jasper turned from her and stroked his mane. "Nay, Mya. I'm not upset. It's good to see you." After a small, awkward pause, he added. "You can say I told you so."
Mya joined him, grabbing a carrot. "What for?" She asked slyly as Arrow devoured it with glee.
He snorted like his ser and swore under his breath about irksome women and Jasper gripped his arm awkwardly. "Must I say it twice?" He grumbled.
She shook her head and took some pity on him. "Unless you wish too."
Jasper sighed. "You were right that I should not give up. I'm deeply happy, Mya. This happiness-" His voice trailed as he struggled to find the words before he gave up and picked up another carrot.
They stood together in silence with only Arrows loud chewing being spoken. She offered him a smile. "I understand happiness is a strange thing. It leaves many gifts." Her hand fell on her stomach and she realized it much too late. Jasper was not always a dullard and his mind could be as sharp as valyrian steel. His blue eyes widened, and before she could get a word out, he lifted her up and spun her around, laughing.
"You are with child! By the Seven I'm happy for you Mya! You and Mychel must be so pleased!" The happiness on his face vanished as it scrunched up in annoyance with him crossing his arms. "I should have beaten him bloody in the training yard! Making a woman with child ride a horse! It's unknightly!"
Mya almost rolled her eyes. "He doesn't know. I've yet to tell him." And she knew Mychel's reaction would have been precisely that. He would have locked me in my room and wrapped me up in blankets and imprisoned me in a fortress of pillows until the babe came out of me
Jasper blinked. "It's not my place to interfere in your marriage, but a husband has a right to know as the head of your household." He used his lordly voice that forbade any argument.
"I'll tell him once we return to the Bloody Gate. This was the only way I could see you wed."
It made him soften.
"You should still be resting!" He declared. "Not walking around. The babe!" He cried out with worry as if she would collapse at any moment from exhaustion.
Mya laughed. "I'm not even showing my lord. I'm fine."
He sighed. "Very well, I suppose a woman would know such things, but you shall see Maester Colemon."
"My lord-" she tried, but Jasper glowered and she knew it was a battle she would lose. "So be it." Mya grumbled. "I'll see your maester to appease you."
Jasper gave a satisfied smile and returned to feeding his horse. They spoke of mindless things of little worth. Names she had thought of if it was a boy or girl. Her time in the Bloody Gate and the happiness she felt with Mychel. Jasper told her of his days in the capital and of Princess Myrcella and how sweet she was. He mentioned fights he had. Some fights he had won. Others that he lost. Arrow ate greedily while they spoke. His face is more relaxed than she had ever seen him. Even as a boy before his confrontation with his cousin, he never looked this content. The occasional jape left his lips that made her struggle for breath. The Gods have been good to the both of us. Eventually they ran out of carrots, much to the vast disappointment of Arrow, who let out a loud whine, and they both knew it was time for them to depart. Mychel would look for her, and the entire household would look for Jasper.
"Thank you for not giving up on me. I know I can be a real shit sometimes." Jasper said.
"You weren't that bad."
He gave her a knowing looking. "Come on. I was a spoiled brat."
Mya chuckled. "Occasionally, I suppose. It doesn't matter. You turned out alright."
Jasper kissed her chastely on the cheek and donned on his cheerful mask and with one final goodbye sealed with a wink, he departed.
Jasper
Maester Colemon hunched over him, along with the recently appointed Steward Gerald Grafton. Goblets of wine split between them as they went over the books and the supplies of the household. A host of twenty thousand strong were camped outside of the walls and despite his grand uncle refilling the larder beforehand, they were hard pressed to support such an army for much longer. With the joining of the Royce levies, the wedding would have to be had shortly. The day after the wedding, they needed to march to Maidenpool to join up with the River Lords and link up with Lord Stark in the capital. If he could dally longer, he would. The longer we take to end the conflict, the better House Arryns position will be. But that was only in pure numbers. His reputation would take a hit, and that was unacceptable. If he dallied, he would weaken his ability to leverage a peace in his interests with Lord Stark. They had to be leal and prompt in their arrival in order to secure concessions at the negotiation table.
A peace to secure Crown Prince Tommens reign
As High as Honor!
Jasper refused to dishonor the legacy of Jon Arryn.
We are the house at the top of the shiny hill. The example for everyone to follow. And he would not be the subject of japes like the Late Walder Frey. Though it would have been better to let the Lions and Roses bleed themselves some more, but the cost was too high. Grand Uncle Brynden thought he was pulling the apple cart before the horse, thinking about the postwar realm. Much could still change, but thinking broadly, the Lannisters needed to be brought back in the fold. They were no great threat to his wards. Especially a weaker House Lannister. The Tyrells and Lord Renly needed to be punished harshly to prevent them from rising again. It depended on the battles fought and the position on the ground, but his war aims were to preserve the bulwark in the Westerlands and shatter the Reach and Stormlands union. It sounded simple on paper, but Lord Stark would wish to punish the Lannisters more harshly than he thought prudent. Uncle Edmure will see things from my point of view. Two Lord Paramount speaking with one voice would give Lord Stark pause. Mayhaps Prince Tommen could soften the Lord of Winterfell towards his grandfather? Jasper thought not. I can't involve him in these games. He's too young and I will not burden him. Not yet. He's still only a boy.
It was his duty to secure the realm.
The door swung open, and Jasper almost smiled. "Robert." He said. His brother stood slightly taller, with a healthier shade to his skin, but he was still painfully small for his age, with thin spindly arms that made him wince. "I'm sorry I couldn't greet you in the courtyard I-"
"Where is mother Jasper!" Robert wailed.
Steward Gerald smile was that of mockery, and it made his blood boil. My brother is some pathetic amusement to him. Jasper wanted to seize him and throw him through the moon door for it. My brother doesn't deserve such torments from the likes of you coin counters.
Maester Colemon was wiser and kept his face neutral. "Lord Robert-"
"Both of you are dismissed." Jasper said curtly.
He would not suffer them watching the tantrum that would follow. "You are getting married. Where is mother? She should be here!" He stomped his feet as both of his counselors bowed and departed their presence. Jasper was thankful as his hands shook as at the mention of his mother. He could feel the blistering winds on his cheeks and his brother's screams echoed. Screams to help him and still he wanted mother. She would have murdered you! And still you cry out for her? His heart quickened in his chest as he tried to maintain his lordly composure.
"Mother isn't coming." Jasper said, leaving little room for argument. "She remains unwell."
"No! You make her come back! You are Lord of the Eyrie! Make her fly back home!" His brother's voice was raised, and it cooled him down. I can't upset him. It may awaken the shaking sickness. And Robert was his blood. His only sibling in the entire world, and he had to protect him. What kind of brother would I be if he didn't? Wretched. I would be a wretched brother.
Jasper softened his face. "Please calm down. Tell me about Runestone and your time among the Royces."
It was the wrong thing to say as Robert exploded. "I HATE THEM! I WANT MOTHER! NONE OF THEM WILL READ TO ME ABOUT SER ARTYS! ALL THEY DO IS MAKE ME READ BORING SCROLLS OR SPEND TIME OUTSIDE!" It was beyond pathetic and embarrassing for a boy of nine name days crying for his mother like a babe at her teat. This was his heir. A sniveling, snot-nosed brat. He prayed to the gods for civility. He thought of Myrcella and her kind face and gentle voice soothing him. It stayed his hand.
"I'm sorry Robert." He said through clenched teeth. "Mother isn't coming." Nor shall you ever see her again. But Jasper would never say that. It would upset his frail brother.
"I HATE YOU!" His brother screamed, crying as his hands curled up into fists and struck him. They were soft and pathetic. A little girl could strike with greater force. But the words landed true and made him flinch.
He held him by his thin, boney shoulders. "Please, Robert." He begged more than a lord should. "Please, you are going to upset yourself." And his words became truth as Robert shuddered uncontrollably, as if possessed by the Stranger and all he could was hold him and prevent his head from striking the hard floor. He called the guard to send for Maester Colemon. When he arrived, he administer some milk of the poppy and it induced a deep sleep, making him as limp as a newborn. Jasper allowed Maester Colemon and the servants to do their duty as he left. Must I always fail him? He wondered. It seemed a cruel jape of the gods. Why couldn't he be healthy? People mocked him for his frailty and it embarrassed House Arryn and, to his shame, even himself. It's not his fault. Yet, he blamed him all the same. Why does he make my duty harder? It was a dishonorable thought, blaming his only brother.
Your unworthy. Unworthy of the name Arryn.
The lordship would kill Robert if he ever ascended to the weirwood throne. He's just a late bloomer. He'll get better in time.
Jasper recognized the delusion, but his other option filled him with despair.
Harry the Heir.
Bitterness swirled around him, and his vision darkened.
He told himself to stay away from his betrothed, but he needed to see her. It had been too long since he had heard her laugh and seen her smile. A desperation seized him that commanded him to seek her out. Let me forget my failures. My failures as a brother. A lord. Myrcella always reminded him of the man he could be. A sweet comfort that made his heart ache. It makes me weak, but I need to feel it. Absence had made the heart grow fonder. It would be a quick visit.
In and out in a blink. No problem.
"I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear." Jasper said, pulling his lips off her. Slender legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Foreheads rested against the other as they struggled for breath. "But I couldn't help myself. I've missed you too much." The moment he saw her, he all but attacked her. Myrcella's cheeks were rosy red as he pressed her against the stone wall. She wore a beautiful blue dress lined with silver. Every dress she wore looked beautiful, but that was the fool thinking. Surely there is a color that doesn't suit her?
"I can tell." She teased. "But I think something else ails you."
He wished to curse that she read him so easily. Jasper had no desire to bother her. He only wished to see her smile and laugh. "Have you picked out a wedding dress?" He asked, trying to change the subject. "Though I think you would lovely even in septa robes." He winked.
She gave a loud huff. "Don't be charming with me, my lord." She bobbed him gently on the nose. "I'm wise to such tricks!" A light giggle escaped her throat that warmed his heart.
Only some truth would get her off his scent. She smells blood in the water and would not be satisfied until she found something to bring down. "You aren't upset, I have to pretend to be distant, are you?" Jasper asked. "I don't wish you to feel abandoned."
Jasper couldn't tell if he fooled her with his misdirection. "I'm fine Jasper!" She said with a sweet voice. "My ladies have kept me company and I've spoken with your fine gardeners. When you return from the war, it shall be a beautiful place filled with life. I intend to rival Highgarden!" It almost drove away the doubt as he nodded his head. "I understand it's for politics." She promised. "It would be folly for me to sabotage that for what beats in my chest. We have to be smart." Worry crept in her voice. "There is no middle ground in this game we play."
"Don't worry about anything." Jasper whispered. "I'll take care of everything."
She gazed into his eyes and tilted his chin up. "Is this what truly ailed you?"
Jasper rubbed his pant legs. Even the thought of lying to her made him feel soiled.
"Tell me what's wrong Jasper."
"It doesn't matter." He put her down and adjusted his collar it suddenly felt tight. "I wouldn't wish to bother you." His skin became a bit flushed at the warmth in his chest when she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Really, Myrcella, I just came to see you. I've missed you terribly." I miss her laugh. I miss her smile. I even miss losing to her in a game of cyvasse.
"I wish you to tell me!" She used her princess' voice, and he scowled.
"I will not." He grumbled.
"Pretty please!" And his ice turned into a soggy puddle as she batted her eyes shyly. She had his heart and nothing he could do would change that. Clever woman stole it from me. And he was grateful for that. He was far too cowardly in the affairs of the heart to have tried without her help. Jasper told her about Robert as she rested a hand on his chest and gazed up at him. He spoke of the words uttered in his solar and his fears about Robert being his heir and the secret shame he felt about him. Most men gazed at him with judgement, but he saw none in her eyes for his weakness. It was imperfection, and it's why his parents hated him. I'm not perfect. I'm not as High as Honor.
If he was perfect, they would have loved him.
"I wish to help him," Jasper said, lifting his hand up in confusion. "But it's nothing I can slay with a sword or end with a quill. I do not know what to do." He sighed. I'm the Lord of the Eyrie and I'm helpless to put my family whole. I don't know how. He hoped sending him to Runestone would make a man out of him as his squireship did for him, but it had borne no fruit.
Myrcella offered him kind words. "Treat him like your brother. Be kind. Listen to him. You are Jon Arryn's son. I know you can do it." Belief. Jasper heard in her voice. She believes in me. It restored a sense of confidence to him. My sweet betrothed is far too kind to me.
"And you, princess?" He asked. "What worries afflict you?"
She blinked, surprised by his inquiries, as her cheeks flushed.
"It is a two-way road, Myrcella." He reminded. "Tell me and mayhaps I can help."
"Just promise me when you speak with my grandfather. You'll be weary. He's a dangerous man." Myrcella pressed her nails into his arm, almost drawing blood. "Don't underestimate him."
The Old Lion. Jasper thought. For over a generation, he had ruled the realm through fear. The mere mention of the Reynes of Castamere made brave men pale. But Jasper was not afraid of him. Fear has a cost. It burns bridges where he intended to build them. Relationships and blood were better ways to forge the realm with the Eyrie at the center. A more civilized realm. With Arryn, honor leading the way.
Only a girl like Myrcella would be worried and he almost told her so, but he'd rather comfort her. "Oh, I'll be fine." He grinned. "I know precisely what I'm doing."
"Jasper, he'll take advantage of any weakness. Any mistake he shall exploit."
"Myrcella." He gripped her shaking hands. "I'm a fool when it comes to the heart, but of the realm, I understand. Your grandfather is in a dangerous place and he may wish to try something underhanded, but he won't. Numbers are against him." Two kingdoms engaged in open warfare against the Westerlands and outnumbered him 2-1. Under the banner of the Crown, the alliance that won King Robert his throne would sweep what remains away. Jasper was more worried about Lord Renly. He might squirm away from punishment with his japes and smiles.
I can't let that happen. When he gazed into Myrcella's kind eyes, he knew he had to do anything to protect her. I won't lose her. I won't let anyone take her away from me. And the Blackfish had trained him to end his threats. Permanently.
She looked a little downcast, and that was unacceptable. "Come on princess, time for me to lose our game of cyvasse." He smiled when she brightened.
"Oh, you could win Jasper."
Jasper snorted. The seas would run dry and the sun would darken before he won a game, and he didn't mind as long as she smiled.
Her smile was worth its weight in gold.
Sansa
Arya had beautiful hair. Sansa thought as she braided it in simple Northern fashion. She begged mother to let her work on it. Arya scowled, crossing her arms, not pleased by the gray dress mother had foisted upon her. An army of servants led by an old seamstress had seen her fitted. Princess Myrcella and Cousin Jasper wedding. Behind her, Jeyne prattled on about lords and knights she would dance with. Sansa only partially paid attention. The Eyrie was a castle out of a storybook, a palace of white marble in the heavens. It was a marvel to gaze at. It's as if it floats in the sky. Sansa mentioned such to Cousin Japer. "It's the most beautiful palace in all the Seven Kingdoms!" His voice said cheerfully, but his eyes spoke a different tale. She saw no happiness at the sight of the white walls and Sansa felt that strange. I would weep with joy to see the gray walls of Winterfell.
Cousin Jasper could be strange like that.
Maybe he was just annoyed by the mule ride up to the Eyrie. Sansa didn't think it possible for a creature to smell worse than a horse. But the palace was breathtaking. It made the Red Keep seem small and insignificant. A mere holdfast compared to the splendor of the Eyrie.
"Done." Sansa said with pride at her work. "You look so pretty Arya!" she gushed.
"I don't want to go." Arya mumbled.
Sansa didn't understand she looked like a lady for once. As much of a lady as she could be, anyway. "You've been practicing your dancing. You'll be fine." Though she was a poor dancer coming back to the quarters with bruises and welts. But she would be a poor sister to mention that. No boy would ever mention that to her face. Arya was too fierce. My wild little sister. Maybe once she would have loved a sister like Myrcella: gentle and sweet, but it was Arya who had comforted her at her lowest point. She had grown to love her strange unladylike quirks. She had even helped her with sums in running a household. Arya was always better at that.
Her scowl deepened.
Sansa added kindly. "Prince Tommen will be there. You've become friends, have you not?" Her cheeks actually reddened before her features scrunched up.
"He's not a complete stupid prince." Arya admitted. "He's fun to be around."
"See?" Sansa pointed out. "It won't be that bad?" It would be a night of dancing and singing with fine food and sweet wine. Mother had permitted her to have a second glass at the feast! Then there would be the bedding. A wicked event that made her giggle. She would tear apart her cousin's clothes along the way to his chambers. Though some bitterness remained in her breast. My betrothed is hardly prince charming. It was hard to imagine the boy prince wrapping his cloak around her shoulders. And the other knights and lords made her feel a sense of trepidation. A weariness remained with her. It was born as she watched the lifeblood leave Bran.
"I still don't want to go to a stupid wedding. I want to be at Bear Island!" Arya said.
Bear Island was a wild place and would suit Arya nicely. Why father never sent her there in the first place was beyond her. She's hopeless in court. Still, as Myrcella often told her, she had a duty as the elder sister to represent House Stark and that applied to Arya too. It would be a slight against Cousin Jasper and Princess Myrcella if she didn't attend.
The doors slammed opened, servants stumbled out of the way as a blur of darkened fur vaulted in, following his master, whose cheeks reddened with fury. Bran was dressed as befit, a lordling scrubbed and cleaned with his finest little doublet and cloak fastened with a direwolf broach.
"GIVE IT BACK NOW!" Bran was glaring daggers at Arya.
Nymeria met Dawn as they tumbled to the ground in a mock fight. Lady watched with disinterest.
Jeyne let out a blood-curdling scream and fainted as they tumbled next to her chair.
"I DIDN'T TAKE ANYTHING!" She replied fiercely, rising from her seat.
"LIAR! YOU WILL GIVE BACK WHAT YOU TOOK FROM TOMMEN!"
Arya reddened. "HE GAVE IT TO ME!" Hands curling into fists. "YOUR BEING STUPID!"
"YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF HIM! NOW GIVE IT BACK TO HIM!" Brans' voice was a command that rankled. It was a challenge, and Arya wouldn't back down from one. Their noses were touching as they were close to brawling like the wolves. It would have ruined all of her hard work and Brans cloak was so handsome. It would have been dirtied and the wedding would be ruined! She acted as befit the eldest daughter of Winterfell and separated the both of them, sticking her arms between them.
"Enough! Both of you!" Her voice cracked like a whip.
"But-" They both said in unison.
Sansa would not give an inch. "I said enough." Trying to sound like mother. "Now, what did Arya supposedly take, Bran?"
"The Valyrian steel dagger Lord Arryn got for him from the capital." Bran mumbled. "She tricked him!"
Oh Arya. Sansa thought. And she knew it was the truth by the look in her eyes.
"I didn't trick anyone!" Arya snapped. "He gave it to me as a gift. I told him I liked swords, and he offered his dagger said I would need it more at Bear Island. He was only being a kind friend."
"He's not your friend! He's just sorry for you!" Bran said.
Sansa could hear the jealousy in his voice.
Arya flinched as if struck teary eyed as she almost flung herself against him with a wintery fury. Her grip was iron, but controlling Arya was like controlling a northern blizzard. "Enough Arya," she said. "Let me handle this."
"Your taking her side?!" Bran scoffed in disbelief.
Her sister huffed and stormed off with Nymeria fresh on her heels.
In Winterfell, Bran was her favorite. He was always a cheerful and friendly boy with an easy smile on his face. Underneath his handsome doublet he bored scars he would carry for the rest of his life. I shall always feel guilt for that. But there is no excuse for this. The Pack had to remain whole as much as it could be. Jon was halfway around the world with King Robert. Robb was marching with a host of Northman to Riverrun. War had swept around them. Bran would join Lord Arryn on his march. Arya would leave for Bear Island. And when the war was done, she was determined to return to the capital to be with father. He would need her to help run the household in the place of mother. They were being pulled across the realm by forces they couldn't control. They couldn't afford these squabbles.
"That wasn't a kind thing to say, Bran." She sighed. "Jealousy is an ugly beast."
His eyes widened before crossing his arms. "Why did she have to ruin everything? He was my friend first and now she spends time with him." His voice softened. "I don't want things to change."
She wished to weep for him as she stroked his auburn hair. They shared the same auburn hair. Mothers hair. "I know, Bran, but things change. Prince Tommen is still your friend. Do you think he would have approved of this?"
Bran shook his head with some shame. "Go and apologize to Arya." She told him.
"But she'll kick me." He complained.
"Probably." Sansa agreed. "But she'll forgive you." He sighed and accepted his fate. Bran whistled and Dawn came running to his side as he offered a knightly bow. One day, he shall make all the maidens swoon. Lady finally rose from her slumber with a wide grin as Sansa scratched underneath her chin. "You were very helpful Lady. You lazy girl."
The hall erupted in great cheers as Cousin Jasper draped his cloak around Myrcella's slender shoulders. She blushed prettily as the septon led them in the words. When they were done, Sansa led the clapping for her friend as they sealed the marriage with a kiss. It was proving to be a magical night. Maybe it was the second glass of wine, but everything felt special. Musicians played romantic songs from the gallery. Soft to the ear as Jasper led Myrcella onto the dance floor. They danced beautifully together. Ser Andar Royce approached her and offered his hand. "My lady," He said with all the courtesy knights of the Vale were known for. "Care to dance?"
"Yes, my lord. It would be my pleasure." She demurred.
They swirled on the dance floor with all the rest. Sansa saw Ser Mychel dancing smoothly with his wife, Lady Mya. Lord Yohn danced with Lady Royce slowly, barely moving. But she was an older woman. It was a kind gesture. Mother didn't dance, she was speaking in hushed whispers with Ser Brynden, her grand uncle. He looked annoyed. But she didn't stare too long at the grizzled Blackfish. Ser Andar complimented her as he handed her off to Lord Horton Redfort with the smell of beer on his breath. He was a terrible dancer, but she said nothing. Next, she danced with Lord Hunters son and heir. A fine dancer whom complimented her on her hair. Her jaw almost dropped when she saw Prince Tommen dancing with Arya. Well, she was leading him. Though Prince Tommen didn't seem to mind, his sunny smile didn't dim. Even Bran was dancing with Lady Jania Redfort. A girl with pretty brown curls. When she was twirled around, Sansa realized Myrcella was still dancing with Jasper in a gentle swirl, drowning into his eyes. Neither saw anyone else. Will my prince look at me like that? Sansa wondered. I hope so.
As the music died down, a crowd of wellwishers gathered around Jasper and Myrcella. He clenched her hand tightly before surrendering it to shake hands. She joined them, throwing her arms around Myrcella. "You look beautiful Myrcella! Or should I say Myrcella Arryn!" she gushed.
Myrcella giggled. "Thank you Sansa. You look beautiful too! Now, where is that wayward brother of mine!?" She mentioned he was dancing with Arya. It surprised Myrcella as it did herself. "Well, let's seek them out!" She declared with a high voice. As they separated from Lord Arryn, who had a foot on a table telling a riveting tale of hunting the shadowcat.
"There we were myself, the fierce Blackfish, and Andar and his brothers with dozens of fine men with us. If Andar had his way, we would have turned back. We would have missed out on such a fight!A tough bastard, it was!"
Ser Andar groaned. "Not this tale again, my lord."
"Sorry ser, you are captive to my tales like everyone else!" Jasper japed as the crowd roared with laughter.
It didn't take them long to find Prince Tommen, who was sitting with Bran and his friends Adrian and Jon, along with Arya. All of them laughed over some bawdy jape of Adrians. The moment his green eyes saw her, he cried out. "Cella!" And ran into his sister, throwing his arms around her. "I can't wait to get married if it's like this! It's so much fun!"
Sansa couldn't imagine marrying him. He's only a boy. Brans age. But in a few years he would be a man grown as beautiful as Ser Jaime. When she closed her eyes and imagined that it wasn't so bad.
"I can't wait for you to wed Tommen! You and Sansa are going to be so happy!" She kissed him on both cheeks.
"Congratulations." Arya offered almost cordially. "You looked well."
"Thank you, Arya!" Myrcella said cheerfully and offered her hand instead of hugging her. She knows Arya well.
They shook hands as a loud cry filled the halls. "Bed them! Bed them!" Lords and Ladies whistled and cried out in drunken laughter. Myrcella whitened like a sheet of a ghost and gazed shyly. Sansa felt some pity for her, but they would laugh about this someday.
Jasper's voice pierced the room. "Very well, my lords. I yield to the tradition of the Vale." And resigned himself to his fate as a crowd of giggling ladies swarmed him like a swarm of bees. Sansa ran to join them. Lord Hunter and Lord Redfort lifted Myrcella with a loud squeal. Joined by a dozen knights of the Vale. A sea of clothing fell to the ground as they ripped them apart until they were naked as their name days. Sansa ripped off Jasper's silver boots and tore a patch of his breaches off. Though when Myrcella cried out from a rough caress as her breasts came tumbling free, Jasper's cheerful face darkened and she was afraid he may attack his lords. He became as stiff as a board and his hands shook. Men japed and women giggled obliviously as he looked overwhelmed, just like Winterfell, when the tankard of ale fell on him. Only a pleading look from Myrcella seemed to calm him as they tossed them into the bedroom. But the look faded from her mind as the party made its way back to the feast.
What a night this was proving to be!
Myrcella
The coupling was an awkward one, unlike her dreams of the marriage bed. Jasper treated her as if she was made of glass and she was too shy to ask him to go faster and harder. She gave a false whimper, hoping it would encourage him to go faster, but it only made him go slower. Myrcella tried to pleasure him and explore his body with her hands, but he gripped both of them with one of his own and denied her anything to do save to lay on the bed. She should have protested, but she lost her courage standing before his gaze naked as her name day. It made her shy and meek. I slapped mother. I saw Joffrey disinherited. None of that mattered. Tonight her voice abandoned her and it robbed her of her joy this night should inspire. When he pulled out of her, his face was scarlet as their eyes met and misread her disappointment.
"I hurt you, didn't I? I'm so sorry, but I knew we had to finish. I should have stopped. I tried to go slower." Jasper said, mortified. "I'll go get Maester Colemon." The daze washed over her as he pulled away from her. Myrcella grabbed him like a lioness, digging her nails into him and wrestling him back.
"I'm fine Jasper." She caressed his cheek, trying to calm his shaking hands. "You didn't hurt me."
"You sounded in pain." He voiced with worry. "I should still get Maester Colemon." The confident lord he showed for everyone melted away and only his doubts remained. Doubts he hid behind a dashing smile and a handsome face. Jasper gazed with worry and shame, as if he had committed some great crime. He was being beyond silly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and showered him with gentle kisses. "Would I kiss you so if you hurt me?"
Jasper had no answer, and she kept on kissing him with the tension leaving his shoulders and he leaned back, surrendering.
"It's not right to hurt a woman. Unless she is some temptress or witch." Jasper whispered. "I know we must do our duty, but I don't wish you to feel discomfort."
Myrcella pecked him on the cheek. "I'm fine." Glee shined in her eyes. "Husband." She giggled happily.
It calmed him as he relaxed with a boyish grin on his face. "Very well." He bopped her gently on the nose. "Wife." And adjusted a loose strand of hair, placing it behind her ear. "I'm going to spoil you rotten princess!" He declared, launching from the bed. "I shall seize some sweets from the kitchen! And I'm going to feed you every spoonful. My golden doe." She admired his muscular form, broad chest, and strong shoulders. But it was the eyes she loved the most. His bright blue eyes were honest and without guile.
She pouted.
"What? Jasper asked, puzzled.
"I don't wish you to go anywhere." Soon he would be gone on campaign, leaving her alone in the Vale and Jasper was a man of honor, but the distance between them would be great. And she feared he may seek company in another. It tore at her. His eyes only look for me. But will that change? It was a silly fear, and it refused to leave her, despite her attempts to drive the beast away. "Stay with me and tell me a poem! I love when you read to me." Myrcella said blushing.
Jasper gawked at her before smiling. "As you wish, princess." She listened to every word as he got out his book of knightly poetry. Warm words that charmed her heart. Tales of romance and doomed lovers sharing final kisses. Jasper loved the stories. Myrcella read him as easily as he did his book. He may love those stories more than I do. She smiled as he got to her favorite passage. "To hold what you love most in the world in a firm embrace. To feel the strong beating heart. Raging with the Maidens love," both of them said together as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, pressing her chest against his back. He stiffened.
"What are you doing?" His voice became as cold as ice. Harsh as if she were a foe in the training yard. But she was undaunted by the change in tone. A façade that fools me not.
"Holding what I care for most in the world." She smiled into his back.
A small sound escaped him as he twisted away. It grew louder and louder as Myrcella realized he was weeping hard tears into his hands. It was a loud cry, thick with repressed emotion. "You." He said in between sobs as she held him, trying to soothe him. "Please take back those words. They are too good for me. I should never be the most important thing."
"Would you wish to make a liar of me?"
"Yes! No! I..I-" He stammered out. "No one has ever said such a nice thing to me. Not father. Not mother. They understood something was wrong with me. They understood my heart was broken." Jasper sobbed harder. "I agree with them and you should too! A broken bird!" He wiped his tears away, violently rubbing his skin raw. Jasper was hurting, though no blow had landed true. Sometimes it's those wounds that burn the most. It made her teary seeing him suffer, and she vowed to support him. She pressed his head into her lap and stroked his hair. Jasper was weak as a lamb easily moved. "No, you don't understand." He pleaded.
Myrcella sighed. "Then help me understand. I won't judge you. I promise."
"You should. Everyone should judge me, just like Snow. Just like Harry. And everyone who looks at me. Even my father, the kind Jon Arryn, judged me unworthy. A man who could love even gutter rats. I know what that says of me." Jasper shuddered. "I'm a mummer of a falcon! A fake! A phony! Every day is merely a stage where I act as everyone needs me to be-" He paused and his eyes lit up with hope as he seized it like a drowning man. "Yes, that's who you love. Not me! The knight is your love. Not me. I've fooled you." He quieted as he tried to believe such a falsehood.
"I love you Jasper Arryn." She said kindly, trying to drive the doubt away. Tilting his chin up. "Do you understand me?" Her voice filled with the command of a princess. "I love you. I hate to inform you, husband, but I find you an abysmal actor." The life left him as he crumbled, believing her honest conviction. "Now tell me what is so horrible. You held me in my darkest hour. I shall do the same." When she had given up on herself, he didn't abandon her. Even if he did so clumsily. It was honest, and that meant everything to her.
"I shouldn't."
"You will." She replied.
Jasper swallowed. "I've thrown everything into trying to be perfect. A perfect son. A perfect lord. As High as Honor." He whispered. " But I can't soar high. Not high enough." A fresh round of tears threatened him. "I've never cared for my life. It's never seemed important. Honor commands me and I'm helpless but to obey. It's all I'm good for." Tears flowed down his cheeks. "Everyone always left me. What else did I have?" He sighed, wiping his tears away. "I've always been willing to give my life in defense of House Arryn. Our traditions our noble principles they are worth dying for." Her nails pressed into him, drawing blood, worried sick at the confession.
"And now?" Myrcella asked with trepidation.
"Now I'm afraid of dying. I have something meaningful to lose. Honor never inspires warmth in one's chest." His eyes gazed at her and she released a breath she didn't know she was holding. "I could be selfish with my life when I was alone. Not anymore." He paused uncertainly. "How can I act with courage when I have something to lose that means something?"
Myrcella wanted to soothe him and comfort him, but she didn't have an answer he would like. "I don't want you to be courageous. I would rather you be selfish." She sniffled, hands entangling. "I only want you to come back to me. To build a garden here." She knew they could be happy here. A few good years before, we'll have to play the game of thrones. A few good years were better than most and she would content herself with that. "I don't care for your honor, only you."
"I'm sorry for weeping. A lord should not cry."
"You can cry in my company, Jasper. I judge you not."
Jasper gave a sad smile, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "I'll try to be more mindful. Be more cautious. I wish not to leave you a widow. Black isn't your color." He japed weakly, trying to comfort her always a gallant knight.
They shared a forced laugh. "No, it isn't." She giggled. He wrapped his arms around her and they took comfort with the other and the uncertain future that lay before them. He pledged to write to her often on the road. Jasper swore that the war would be a short one and that he would be back within the year. Myrcella didn't understand the art of war, but she hoped his judgement was right. Over a year was a long time.
The next day, they assembled the entire household in the courtyard. Tommen wore a handsome golden cloak as bright as his hair. On the Trident when they departed he wept, crying for her, but she saw little signs of tears on her brother's face. His time here has made him grow up. A Crown Prince stood before her. Almost a stranger save his kind smile. "Farewell Myrcella. We shall return shortly, I know." The direwolves howled in the distance. "See, the wolves agree with me. I've never known Brans' wolf to be wrong about anything."
"Tommen! Come on!" Bran Stark shouted. "Lord Arryn is expecting us!"
Myrcella nodded. "Stay safe Tommen. I shall pray for you."
"Pray for Bran, Adrian, and Jon as well." He beamed. "Lord Arryn too."
She promised.
In the distance, Jasper stood taller than any man on horseback. Unlike the uncertain youth that wept against her chest and disappeared against her under the covers, the knight commanded attention. Men see what he wishes them to see. Strong and confident. Jasper was a dashing knight larger than life as he stood in front of his banners. He drew his steel. A beautiful sword that glistened in the morning sun. "The Crown has summoned us! They call us to honor our oaths! And we, my noble knights, shall answer! For we are the Men of the Vale! Once more, we must prove what we showed at the Battle of the Bells! At the Trident! At the storming of Pyke! Our valor is unmatched! With courage in our hearts, we shall spill the blood of traitors and turncloaks! To fulfill our oaths! Blades shall redden against traitors and rebel lords! Our oaths shall be fulfilled and glory seized!" Jasper raised his sword high and pointed to the gate. "Ride with me! Ride with me! Ride with me, oh sons of the Vale!" None of them would know that he had practiced that speech in the mirror until it flowed. Men only wish us to play our roles. They care not for our tears and hardships.
Hundreds of throats screamed. "As High as Honor!"
"For the Noble Vale!"
"Arryn! Arryn! Arryn!"
Ser Brynden rode beside her husband. At least he'll understand Jasper. Everyone else saw him as this knight, this lord, but he knew him as his kin burdened by responsibility. He loves him like a son and will keep him safe. Jasper was wrong in thinking no one cares for him save herself. Myrcella didn't cry when the flying falcon banners flew out of the gate with hundreds of horses, her husband among them. Nor did she cry when Tommen and his young friends left her sight. Squires following their liege into war. She held her poise like a princess as the final banner disappeared out of the gates. Riding for the capital to answer the summons of the Lord Regent. Lady Stark approached her with a sympathetic gaze. "It doesn't get easier, princess. Twice I've seen my Ned ride off to battle." She sighed.
"And your husband always came back?"
"He did sweetling."
"Now we wait." Myrcella said.
"Now we wait." Lady Stark agreed.
Waiting was irksome, but she would keep herself busy. It was all she could do.
Authors note: Finally the wedding is done! And we can move on to the good stuff war and politics of the south! I had a POV for Cat in this chapter, I rewrote it several times, but I didn't like any version I made. Some versions felt too much like a Cat bash, and other versions sounded too sympathetic. I couldn't find that goldlocks zone. so I just cut it out. Though you can see from Sansas POV that they are both clearly aligned with keeping the Starks-Arryn on the same page. Next up, we get more battles in the Reach, and likely take a quick stop to see the Honorable Lord of Winterfell and the caged Lioness. As always I enjoy reading the reviews!
Googi: I'm glad you are enjoying the changes I made! I always meant for Jasper to start off unlikable, but not toally unlikable so that way he could grow. I don't know how many times I've read an OC story where they are just these perfect little heroes and brave as Jaime as strong as the Mountain, and clever as Varys. I wanted to make a flawed guy, cause all of the ASOIAF guys are flawed and have failings its what makes them hero. I do think Jasper is slowly getting better though. The third act, I don't think you'll recognize him. He's going to be pretty relaxed. It's funny you mention the mental afflictions cause I had a reviewer on a03 that wrote to me telling me that he thought Jasper was a highly functioning autist. I did not write that into his charachter, but if you want to think that as head cannon thats okay. It would make some sense given Jon A weak seed.
Natman717: I'm going with the flow when it comes to pairings, but I'll admit I've always like the concept of sweet prince Tommen and wild wolf Arya together. Much better than Gendry in my opinion. Whether that happens I have no idea, but here's another chapter of development. And him giving her Valryian steel dagger(Head cannon it's the same one that was use in the attempt to kill Bran) is probably going to place him high in her opinion. Only other person that gave her a sword was Jon and she adored him.
7thManaic: Oh, I agree I wouldn't want to be Tommen. My vision for Tommen is a cross between Aenys and Viserys in terms of personality with a hint of nobility inspired from the Vale thrown in. A friendly guy who doesn't have the cuthroat instinct, but is still a decent man/ruler especially with the right people around him. Add in some Jaime skill with the sword and he'll look the part.
Now Jaspers honor is an intresting thing. We've seen that he's killed and he has no qualms with being underhanded about it. Look at how he beat the three knights in the Melee. He threw dirt in one of their eyes to beat him. Hardly as High as Honor. Jasper beleives in Arryn exceptionlism and as he tells Arya if you have a good cause worth fighting for you have to do whatever it takes to win! Though fighting in melees and killing Clansman are a bit differnt than full on war. I think Jasper has an academic/abstract concept of war, but needs to see it to understand its costs. It's one thing to read about something and another to see it. Now, I'm going to throw him through the ringer cause it's war, but in terms of personality hes going to be like the Blackfish. In the books, he sent the smallfolk out of Rivverun to limit mouths to feed. Though he's still a decent man. Jasper will try to follow the rules of war, but if his battle hardened commanders are telling him to raid the countryside he'll do so cause he has a good cause worth fighting for.
Lol: Sorry you didn't like him! I tried my best. I'm sure there are other stories for you to read though. I hope you do so. A lot of good stories on here.
Valkorion517: Thanks! Hope you enjoy this one too!