Chapter 76: Touring the Riverlands
6 AF
Robb
He put a hand above his eyes to shield himself from the sun, as he heard the waves crash against the wooden pillars of the dock below him. Above him, he heard seagulls calling. He barely registered any of it. All he had eye for was the large ship slowly sailing away from him into Blackwater Bay.
His wife and children were on that ship. 'His whole life was on that ship', he thought sadly. He missed them already, but Alys could not be convinced to stay. He understood, but he still didn't like it.
He thought about the hug his little boy had given him when saying goodbye or the sloppy kiss on his cheek that had made his daughter laugh so loudly. He thought about the chaste kiss he had shared with Alys here on the dock only moments ago, and about the passionate night that had preceded it. All their plans had had to change, and he sincerely hoped that it was for the better.
Their royal progress had started off well. Alys had recovered from the mental challenges she had experienced after her miscarriage and logistically everything had gone swimmingly. They had left Winterfell and as a symbolic start of their journey, they had been hosted by Arya and Cley in Castle Cerwyn. From there, they had made their way towards Moat Cailin and marched down the Causeway.
By the time they reached the Riverlands, their party had consisted of two hundred and fifty people. A hundred soldiers from the Winterfell garrison, his family, his mother, some of his advisors and nobles with their own retinues, seven men from the Kingsguard with their squires, a handful of servants and a lot of squires, coachmen, stablemasters and the like.
They first stopped at Hugo Vance's new keep. The knight had changed his name to Ser Hugo Morass to signify the fact his lands lay next to the swampy area of the Neck. His seat was the old keep of House Haigh, but it was in the progress of being modified. When Robett Glover had send Cregan Bole to take the keep, he hadn't cared for it to remain in good condition.
This had given Hugo the chance to modify it and make it his own. The roofing had been done anew in a different color. Some support buildings had been rebuilt in a more Southern Riverlander style reminiscent of his ancestral home Atranta. Most of the scorch marks had been removed and the walls and gates were being fortified. He and his new family had welcomed them all very hospitably and Edda and Rick had loved playing with his two-year-old son.
After that, they had visited the Twins. Olyvar had been very welcoming. It had been quite surreal to stand in Lord Walder's former keep and feel safe and at home, but his former squire had managed it. His friend had shown him all the changes he had made in his household and the way he governed the remaining Frey lands. To his surprise, many of his advisors came from the Rosby lands. It seemed not all had welcomed the coming of the Northmen there and they had found refuge with Olyvar, as his mother had been a Rosby. It served the lands well to have new advisors not accustomed to Lord Walder's old ways.
They had continued their journey south along the Kingsroad and had visited Houses Ryger and Terrick. Whilst the former had been very happy to host them the latter had been less so. Lord Terrick had been respectful, but he could feel some animosity over his policies in the former Crownlands. One of the lord's brothers had even made a snarky comment after one too many drinks. Something about "not expecting to be allowed to plant those heathen trees on our family's lands." Lord Terrick had immediately apologized and sent his brother away, but it was clear many in his court felt the same way.
After visiting House Roote at Harroway, they had been hosted by the castellan of House Darry for a night. Then they had crossed the Bay of Crabs on small ships for a two days' visit to Saltpans. The old Ser Quincy had been honored by their visit and he had reacquainted himself with his sons and good-sons who had fought with him during the war.
They had sailed on to Maidenpool and had been hosted by the regent of House Mooton. Together with Roderick Dustin the three of them had had a very serious conversation about what he had spent their coin on and what more was needed for Maidenpool to flourish again. In the end, both had decided that the regent had done his job well-enough. Most of the actual town and port had been rebuild and repopulated, mostly with survivors from King's Landing who had been fed through food transports hailing from the Reach and Braavos.
The keep and walls around the town still showed obvious scars from the war, but the regent had told him that he had prioritized the people and the economic life over the keep and the defenses for which he had been glad. A family of shipbuilders from King's Landing had relocated to Maidenpool and through their efforts a small trading fleet of ten cogs had been built over the years. This had attracted other private investors and ships from foreign ports and trade seemed to be growing every day.
From Maidenpool they had departed on a two-week journey through Cracklaw Point. All the petty houses there had hosted them as if it had been the occasion of the century. They all told him how their land gains and tax exemptions had helped their families and how they are once again investing into the Peninsula after centuries of decline. He had laughed and drank with them, and Edda had played with their daughters.
Their next visit had been to Rook's Rest, where they had met with its new lord. After House Staunton's betrayal, the lands had been split. House Mooton had gotten small parts of its lands, a third had gone to the Houses of Cracklaw Point and the remainder, including the keep, had gone to the second son of Lord Roote. The Riverlander knight now styled himself Lord Cleos Rooke. He had wed Eleanor Mooton, which had ensured peace and stability in the region.
It was in Rook's Rest that Alys found out that she was pregnant again. Both of them had been incredibly happy, but to his surprise she had also been very scared. She had been scared to have another miscarriage and had demanded to go back to Winterfell immediately. He had been stupefied by her request, they had months of travelling through the Riverlands ahead of themselves and dozens of noble families were counting on their presence during that time.
The more they argued about it, the more it became clear that Alys wouldn't budge on the topic. She wanted their child to be of the North and to be born in Winterfell and she didn't want to risk losing it by travelling. In the end, they had compromised. Instead of taking the first ship in Duskendale, she would come along to Riverport, formerly known as King's Landing.
She agreed to visit the Northern enclaves that had settled in the Blackwater region, among them her cousins Alaric, Bennard and Harmond. They journeyed on land to Duskendale and were hosted by House Rykker for three days. Lord Jasper Rykker had recently wed ArraUmber and relations between Duskendale and Riverport seemed better than he had expected. A few Northmen could unexpectedly be found in its court. Three friends of the Lady's father had apparently relocated to the city with their families after the wedding. One had joined the guard, another the city watch and the last one was trying to make a living through trade. Other family friends seemed to be visiting them as well during their stay.
Afterwards they visited Stokeworth, where they were hosted by Ser Desmond Grell, who had become the new head of House Stokeworth through his marriage with Lollys. The old master-at-arms was gracious, but he too implied concerns about the fact that around a dozen weirwoods had been planted on the combined lands of Houses Rosby, Sumber and Hayford. He had managed to put Ser Desmond's concerns to rest for now. It was not as if he hadn't expected any backlash on the move.
Their next stop had been Rosby, where Alys and Torr had gladly reunited with their kin. Alaric seemed happy in his new home and Lady Roslin shared the same sentiment. The lady had kept much of the old Rosby customs that she had been told about by her late mother alive, which had endeared the couple to the peasantry and some of the lower nobility. Alaric's court was filled with Northmen mixed in with Crownlanders.
His two cousins Bennard and Harmond had been given modest lands. One by marrying the orphaned heir of a knightly house and the other had received the lands of an exiled family. Most of his two dozen friends had either received lands or important positions in his household. Other countrymen like Ser Rodrik Locke had also received lands of their own and they were intermingling quickly with the local nobles, as most had taken Southern women native to the area as their wives.
Northern veterans and settlers from all over his kingdom had flocked to the lands and spread out across it. Already, a third of the Rosby guard consisted of Northern veterans and much of the smaller holdfasts nearby told a similar story. Northern and mixed villages had sprung up at every place where new land could be cleared for farming or local fishing could be expanded upon, but most of the local peasants seemed to accept it. The local smallfolk seemed happy with their new rulers ever since Alaric had lowered their taxes for five years to replenish from the war.
After Rosby, they visited Hayford. The young Lady Ermesande seemed a happy and spirited child and the castellan was very welcoming. He expressed his concerns about the number of Northern migrants and the resentment it was causing with a faction of the established nobility. Yet, he seemed to have a good working relationship with Jon Slate, Donnel Cerwyn, Torrhen Cordon and Lothor Snow, all of whom had chosen new family names for themselves.
He met up with the young nobles, who told them a similar story. After they planted weirwood saplings in their new lands, the conflict seemed to have escalated much as it initially had in the Rosby lands. However, the Northern faction in Hayford was much weaker and they didn't have as much support from the peasantry as they had over there. He ordered the young nobles to stay vigilant and avoid conflict at all costs. Once Martyn came of age more permanent solutions could be made from a position of strength.
He had also promised to talk to the Crownlander nobles and did so. Some, he managed to pacify, while others had no mind to hear reason. He passed the names on to the castellan to keep an eye on them.
Lastly, they arrived in Riverport. The sight they saw there was surreal. He had been in King's Landing some five years ago, but everything had changed. Aegon's Hill remained a destitute ruin, but Rhaenyra's Hill had completely vacated, the Dragonpit removed to the last stone.
Half the city was gone too. A large part of the Northern wall was gone, and behind the wall and around Rhaenyra's Hill nothing but wild fields remained. All signs of buildings had been removed and nature was quickly winning back the land. The only thing reminiscent of the vibrant urban life that had existed there were the sporadic remains of cobblestones and rotten pieces of wood that were scattered around. Half of what had encompassed the former city were now deserted fields with the much smaller population living comfortably in the southeastern third of the former city.
The areas all around the former walls, like the tourney grounds, were dotted with small hamlets and farmsteads consisting mostly of Northern settlers and Old Gods' believing Riverlanders. This had created an interesting dynamic. The vast majority of the thirty-five thousand inhabitants of the city were Crownlanders, with only a thousand or so being Northerners and a similar number hailing from the Riverlands. Around the large town a ring of rural settlements had been created predominantly made up out of Old Gods believers. Around that ring the existing Andal rural population still resided. More Northerners still moved to the area sporadically, especially those from White Harbor that saw opportunities for trade and fishing there. This created an interesting multicultural situation, but Rodrik Sumber seemed well-loved by all and capable enough to manage it.
He and his family had been hailed as heroes by the population and Rodrik had explained that he had made sure that they always knew that the food he had delivered was not only provided by him, but also by House Stark. As such, he had won over the town's remaining population in just a few years. Not only that, much of the rural Andal population as well. His guard and the town watch consisted of the remaining three hundred levies that had survived the war under Rodrik's command augmented by the same number of Northern veterans. All in all, the situation couldn't be better after the changes that the area had seen in recent years.
They had been feasted in Rodrik's wooden keep for five days, before he now found himself on the docks with only Grey Wind, his uncle Brynden and his mother around him. She put a hand on his shoulder in support as he sighed and turned around whilst thinking of Alys. Grey let out a soft wine as he kept looking at the ship. "I know boy, I know. We will see them again in a few months." He spoke softly to his direwolf, as he mentally called him to his side.
Silently, they rode back with their now much smaller guard. Four members of his Kingsguard, half the guard and most of the servants had left with Alys. The squadron of ships from Riverport and Duskendale would sail to Runestone, where she would visit the Royces on a diplomatic visit, before being escorted by Manderly ships ordered to take her home.
They rode through the River Gate, one of the few that would remain in function in Riverport although it had been renamed the Harbor Gate. He rode up Visenya's Hill, aptly renamed to "Giant's Hill".
He rode through the gates of the keep and looked around at the masons and laborers working on the stone curtain wall that was arising all around the top of the hill. Rodrik prioritized the defensiveness of the fortress over the pleasures of a stone keep, which only showed he had chosen the right man to protect the Blackwater border.
In the courtyard all his remaining servants stood assembled, ready for departure. Rodrik walked up to him. "Your Grace, I have assembled this guard of thirty-five men to escort you along your travels across the Riverlands. I cannot, in good conscience, let you leave with the mere fifty men you have now whether they are accompanied by three excellent Kingsguard or not." He respectfully voiced, at the end nodding lowly in respect to Ser Brynden.
He looked over the men that had assembled. "They are made of good Northern stock, all veterans of your wars in the South. They have followed you through the Riverlands before and they will gladly do so again. Their commander is Ronnel Mooserider, he hails from Clan Knott of the Northern Mountains and is loyal to the bone.
A large man in his early thirties stepped forward. He had a battle scar on his forehead that cut through his right eyebrow, along with the signs of old cuts on his exposed arms. He wore a chest plate of good steel, functional but without any ornaments. At his hip hung a sword and a one-handed battle axe, as well as a small dagger.
"It would be my honor to be able to serve you once more, Your Grace." He loudly proclaimed as he hit his fist on his chest plate on the place where his heart was located. This symbol was accompanied with a bow from his head. "The same goes for my men, don't you think so lads?" He shouted, while raising his head." All shouted "aye", as the men repeated the formal gestures their commander had made.
"Those scars you carry, Ronnel … any of those happened to you in my service?" He asked the large warrior.
"Aye, Your Grace." He replied. "Most of them in fact." Then the man grinned. "This one I'm especially fond of." He voiced, as he touched the scar on his forehead.
"How so?" He asked.
"Some Oakheart knight gave it to me, a cousin of the main line. He gave it to me so I would never forget him. In return, I made sure that my axe was the last thing he would ever remember." He laughed, as he patted the axe at his side proudly.
Some of his Southern advisors looked upon the spectacle in shock, but he simply smiled at the man as he looked him in his eyes. He turned back to Lord Rodrik and grinned. "Aye, these lot will do." Lord Rodrik let out a giant roar of laughter, soon to be followed by the men in front of them.
He clasped arms with the giant lord. "It was an honor hosting you and your family, Your Grace. You can rest assured that we will hold the border of your kingdom here until dead takes us. By then our sons will pick up our swords to do the same for the beloved young prince we had the pleasure of meeting."
He had to smile at the memory of Rickard and Eddara playing with Lord Rodrik's young twin sons. "I have no doubt about that, Lord Rodrik." He replied. "There will be no border safer in my realm than the one protected by you and your men, or your offspring." He meant those words. The works Lord Rodrik had done were impressive. It would be at least another ten years before the Stormlands could even think of successfully invading them, by then they would be met with a strong keep looking down upon them from Giant's Hill over strong city walls armed with a cohesive force of Northerners and Southerners alike. He pitied any army that would try to attack it.
They left along the Goldroad, accompanied on their march by the shining Southern sun. They passed by new farms and villages of Northerners and Riverlanders that had happily settled along the Blackwater with their new families. All came out to greet him and many shouted old war songs and battle chants at him as he passed, all of them answered by him and his men. These were the veterans of his campaigns and without them his family and these lands would not be free. Never would he take these men for granted.
(Four weeks later)
He found himself at Pinkmaiden, but he had expected a much warmer welcome. Of course, most of the houses on his way here had been disappointed that his family wasn't with him, but they had nonetheless been honored and happy to be able to host their king and show him their lands.
He had stopped by his uncle's old war companion first, Ser Harry Rivers. He now styled himself Harry Mossbridge, after the bridge that spanned the Blackwater on the border of his lands. A small, but sturdy, stone keep was coming along on a hill there to guard over the crossing. Below it a town of some eight thousand that escaped King's Landing had arisen and it seemed to be faring well on trade with Riverport, the Riverlands and the Reach.
Afterwards he had visited Houses Menning and Parrell in the former Reach lands and then Stoney Sept. These lands were still replenishing from the war, but all seemed to go well enough. On the way he stopped at various small holdfasts and had talks with smaller families eager to have the King's ear. Some had voiced concerns about the situation with the Northerners at the Mouth of the Blackwater, but all in all he had been welcomed warmly wherever he went.
However, House Piper had been different. From the moment that he had arrived, the family and most of the people had been cold towards him. Lord Clement Piper had grown bitter in the years that he hadn't seen him. During the same time, his remaining son Lewys had become spiteful. He seemed to hold the death of his older brother Marq against him, as he had been slain during the war.
Much of the lower nobility reacted the same, as House Piper's hold on them was very strong. No one wanted to tell him what was going on. Finally, he found himself in a dark backroom with the forgotten nephew of one the Piper's vassals. He had presented himself as Ser Stanton Granler.
"What happened here during all these years? Ser Marq was a good friend of the Tullys and we had a good understanding. Lord Clement was nothing except loyal. How come all of this has suddenly changed?" He asked the young knight.
The Riverlander looked around him as if to check nobody could hear him, but only the two of them and his uncle were present. He bent a little forward and softly responded. "It seems that Lord Clement and most his vassals had expected to be rewarded much more than they were after their losses. The cream of our young nobility died that day at Atranta besides our lord's heir. Two of my uncles and one of my cousins did as well, but I never liked them anyway. To hear Lord Clement say it, it was as if you betrayed them."
He looked questioningly at the young knight. "What does he say exactly?"
"Our sons bled and died all over the Riverlands for that boy. At the same time our keeps were ransacked, and our lands burned by the Lannisters and what did we get in return? A few miles of scorched borderland and a small sack of gold. If we licked his boots enough, we could also receive some half-starved refugees from King's Landing with dubious loyalties. On top of that he has the audacity to declare how he is granting us tax exemptions to rebuild our lands. As if there is anything left to tax that the Lannisters haven't already destroyed or taken with them?" Ser Stanton voiced in a bad impression of the short fat lord of Pinkmaiden.
He looked over to his uncle in concern, but all he got was the same reaction back. During their visit, Lord Clement had openly criticized the absence of Alys and his children and how he was handling the Blackwater Bay area, but this went a lot further.
He talked some more with the Riverlander knight and handed him a sack of gold coins afterwards for his service. Then he turned to his commander of the Kingsguard.
"What should we do about this?" He asked him.
"This is serious, although I have heard nothing of plotting or rebellious intensions. To be fair, I don't think that Lord Clement even has the manpower or coin to start anything meaningful either. All I hear are the spiteful comments of a bitter old man." He sighed.
"If you think about it politically, he only has one son to build alliances with and Ser Lewys has married Rhialta Vance already. A good marriage that strengthens his position in the region, but House Vance of Wayfarer's Rest has come out of the war just as battered as they have. He lost most of his adult male kin during the war, and except for the one cousin that married Lady Lefford, none of his kin have made alliances that do anything except strengthen their hold over their local vassals for now. He has two nieces that will be able to be married off soon, but none of the heirs of major houses are available for marriage. Nor would they go for those two, as House Piper could hardly afford the kinds of dowries these houses would desire." Ser Brynden analyzed the situation.
He thought over all that was said and agreed with his interpretation of the situation. "Even so, there is something we need to be able to do?"
"I would talk about it with Edmure. He is their direct liege lord. The Pipers have been loyal to the Tullys for years and my nephew honestly cared for Ser Marq. Maybe he can mend the relationship for us through fostering or something. House Piper, once rebuild, remains a very strong house protecting our western border. After marrying into House Lefford, this has become even more important."
He agreed with that and would talk about it with Edmure in Riverrun in a few weeks. "I think it is very important we keep the progress going now. Nowhere else have we received this kind of criticism. If it remains isolated to the Pipers, or even them and a few of their neighbors, it isn't the end of the world, however it cannot spread across the rest of the Riverlands." His uncle voiced and he had to agree again.
"Very well, uncle. We'll do it your way. However, I'll be glad when we depart from this place on the morrow." He sighed. Ser Brynden looked him in the eyes. "As do I nephew, as do I."
(Three weeks later)
After zigzagging through the Western Riverlands they had finally reached Riverrun. On their way here, they had stopped at Wayfarer's Rest, Acorn Hall, Lychester, Stone Hedge and Atranta and many of the smaller holdfasts belonging sworn to these places. At the site of the battle, they had had a memorial for the battle that had been fought there over five years ago. He couldn't believe how long it has been since he had last seen Lord Rickard, but he pulled himself up at the thought of how happy he would be with all his grandchildren from him and Alys or from Harry.
The Vances of Wayfarer's Rest and the Smallwoods had had similar misgivings as the Pipers, albeit much less extreme. Old Lord Lymond Lychester had finally found peace and his heir had been hospitable enough. The Brackens and Vances of Atranta had welcomed him heartily, although they also broached the subject of the weirwoods in the South multiple times.
It had been a very informative experience to meet his vassals' families and to visit all heir keeps, but he was very glad that he would be back at Riverrun. Here he would be safe amongst family. His mother, who rode next to him, had been acting giddy ever since they had passed a mill she remembered from her childhood. The closer they got to Riverrun the more she seemed to giggle happily. He had never seen her like that before, but it made him think of a much younger Sansa when she was told poems about knights, princesses and courtly love.
He looked questioningly towards his uncle, but he seemed very happy to see her like that. Maybe this was how his mother had been when she was a child in Riverrun, happy and quick to laugh. She smiled widely when the walls of her childhood home came into view in the distance. He shook his head softly at the spectacle his mother was making but kept quiet.
As they neared the Red Fork from the South, he could see the gates open in the distance and a small party rode out to meet them. They circled around the river over the bridge towards them. A dozen riders neared them, but there was something else coming, another shape. The huge beast would have scared many a man, but now it was his time to smile as he recognized Summer running towards him. Suddenly, the direwolf ran away from the front of the group coming towards them, followed by a lonely rider racing at top speed.
He shared a look with Grey Wind and without warning he loudly called "hiyaa". He pushed his spurs into the flanks of his horse and he and Grey Wind sped off together. He heard his guards shout in surprise and annoyance, but over them all he could hear his uncle curse. "Damned Starks! Wild beast half the time! Why couldn't you marry a Reachmen and allow me to enjoy my old day in peace?" His last words were probably directed at his mother, but by now he was already out of earshot, as he raced towards the two figures in the distance.
When they got closer, the other rider slowed down, but he himself didn't. He raced towards him and got on his stirrups, then he forced his horse to a halt and jumped off as the other rider dismounted as well. He ran forward and crashed into his brother as both held each other in a bear hug. The two direwolves did the same, yapping and howling in joy at seeing each other again.
He held his brother for a little while, before he pushed him away at arm's length to look at him. "You have grown." He told him. His brother looked good. He was fifteen years old now and he had grown multiple inches since he had last seen him. His chest had filled out a little bit and his arms weren't so thin anymore. He was dressed in his training armor and seemed to have jumped up on his horse quickly to see him.
His assumption was soon confirmed. "I was training in the yard. I rode out as soon as I could, but uncle Edmure only let me go with him once he arrived with a few guards. As if they are any use against Summer or Grey Wind." His little brother scoffed. Both looked at their massive direwolves who were roughhousing in the grass beside them. Both were bigger than a horse and their teeth could bite a man's leg right off. Nevertheless, all they looked like now were two overgrown and very happy puppies.
He laughed at his brother's joke and waved his hand through his long curls lovingly. "You need to cut your hair. It's much too long for this Southern spring weather. You will sweat yourself to death." He spoke out, slight mocking in his voice. Then he noticed something else and lifted his brother's chin up forcefully. "And you need a shave haha! What are you trying to achieve with that stubble, boy?" He laughed loudly, as other riders reached them.
Bran tried to look angry at him for the joke, as his brother hit him upon the arm in retaliation. He just let it slide and grinned at him. He looked up and saw that three boys around Bran's age in training gear had arrived. He looked them over and the colors they wore.
"Lord Mooton, Lord Darry and Master Blackwood, I suppose?" He asked, ignoring the riders that had come up behind him. He already knew it would be his Kingsguard and how angry they would be.
All three dismounted their horses and got on one knee. "Yes, Your Grace." They all replied. He nodded in response to their gesture and told them to get up. He clasped their arms right after. "Any friends of my brother are friends of mine." He told them and they looked back in confusion, but that quickly made way for pride in their young eyes.
Behind him, his mother had arrived. She dismounted as elegantly as ever, but then she threw herself in Bran's arms. He noticed that Bran had surpassed her in height now and she voiced the same, as Edmure arrived in front of him. His uncle bowed ceremoniously, before grabbing him into a hug. "Nephew", he called out and he greeted him back in the same familiar manner.
Afterwards he greeted uncle Bryden, followed by his mother. "Cat, it's so good to see you! Riverrun has missed your presence every day since you left."
"Winterfell is my home now brother, but not a day has passed since I arrived there where I haven't thought of Riverrun's flowing rivers and glowing hills." She grinned back.
"What are we waiting for then? Let me have the honor to escort you inside once more. The household has been dying to meet you." Edmure responded proudly and they both mounted their horses once more.
Behind them he saw Bran greet uncle Brynden. He had always been one of his brother's heroes and it seemed they still got along as well as they did when he had left Winterfell.
He presented the three young nobles of the Riverlands to his advisors and afterwards he jumped back in the saddle again. He saw the young Lord Darry marvel at the two direwolves rolling around in the grass with both curiosity and fear in his eyes. The boy noticed him looking and gulped. "I have spent hundreds of hours with Summer, but I have never seen him like that. On one side he seems aggressive and dangerous and on the other side he has never looked happier."
He nodded in agreement at the analysis. "Aye, that summarizes it, I guess. They are playing and are happy, but they roughhouse like brothers do. They challenge and bait each other and that can be somewhat aggressive. However, never let this fool you. They are pulling their punches. In battle, they are something else entirely."
Lyman Darry looked at him in shock. "They are worse than this?"
He laughed loudly. "This is them playing, look." He whistled loudly and suddenly Grey Wind growled and pinned Summer to the ground. He yapped once at him before letting him go and happily waggling towards him. His head reached up to his own chest from atop his horse and he lazily scratched his companion behind his ears, as the direwolf let his tongue out. "Good boy." He whispered to him.
The young Lord Darry looked absolutely flabbergasted, and his friend Lord Mooton did too. "That was a small demonstration. He is the older brother after all." He winked at the pubescent boys and Grey lazily followed his gaze.
"He … he just put Summer on his back like it was nothing …" Lord Lyman muttered.
"It was not nothing, as Summer is very powerful. However, Grey is the elder and is much more experienced. Grey has fought dozens of battles and has killed and maimed hundreds of men. Summer's experience consists of fighting a few lost Ironborn in the Godswood of Winterfell. There is a difference. Summer is very, very dangerous, but Grey Wind is lethal in everything he does when he wants to be." He explained.
Both Riverlander lords gulped audibly, as they looked at the direwolf that was purring as he scratched behind his ears. They were visibly scared of his companion, which was not a bad thing for two powerful lords in the Eastern Riverlands. He ruled by respect and companionship, but they needed to understand that he wasn't to be trifled with too.
He decided that Grey's demonstration had been more than enough of that. "Don't worry. Grey is just like Summer. Summer would never hurt one of his master's friends, nor would Grey Wind. As I said before, I consider my brother's friends to be mine own." He winked.
This calmed them down considerably, although they kept throwing scared glances to his direwolf all the way to Riverrun. On their way there, his Kingsguard took their places close to him. His great-uncle rode on his right, as his commander. Ser Benedict Blackwood rode up to him from behind Lord Edmure and bowed, after which he greeted his sworn brothers. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Ser Benedict took his place back next to Bran as his personal shield.
He was greeted fondly by the smallfolk and the household, many remarking how much he still looked like his late grandfather even with his strong Northern beard.
Uncle Edmure and Bran spend the rest of the day showing his mother around and he gave his other uncle leave to go along with them. Harmond Turrell, Ser Duncan Brune and Ser Benedict Blackwoodwere more than enough to protect him.
He got settled into the keep and made sure his men were well. He used the fact that Bran was busy to ask for a formal audience with his friends and talked with the three of them about their vision for the Riverlands. He wanted them to feel included in his reign from the moment that they came to power themselves, which could be any time now. Mooton was already of age but remained in Riverrun for now to gain his spurs. Darry would be of age in a few months.
He talked with both about their families' histories as Targaryen loyalists. He ensured them that, for him, that chapter was closed. Neither of them had been born back then and their fathers had redeemed themselves during the last wars before they had died. Both families had regained some of the lands they had lost during the war too and he asked them how they felt about that.
Lord Myles Mooton seemed happy with the current situation and considered the lands, in combination with the coin and refugees to rebuild and repopulate Maidenpool, enough. He and his family wouldn't seek to regain other lost lands in the future.
Lord Lyman Darry was less sure. He thanked him profusely for the lands they had regained from House Roote because of him but remarked that they had lost a lot of other lands too. In the end, he promised both boys and their future families' honorable positions in his court and Darry agreed to let it rest.
Alyn Blackwood was different. He was a fifth son and had no lands or titles to look out for when he came of age in a few months. He was waiting for his spurs and would then seek employment with one of his lordly brothers. The lad positively surprised him during their talks and his loyalty to Bran was commendable. In the end, he promised him a position in the North, if he would have it when he came of age. Either in Winterfell or with Bran in Moat Cailin in the future. He had seldom seen a fifteen-year-old boy that happy, and both his friends also congratulated him.
He walked out of that meeting with a good feeling. He placated two important lords of the Riverlands and ensured the loyal support of a promising young man for his reign in the future.
He spent the evening at a big feast that Edmure threw for "the return home of his family." His mother was immediately fond of Edmure's children, which wasn't surprising considering their looks and names. Both had the traditional red hair and blue eyes of the Tullys, much like himself. However, it was their names that would forever endure them to his mother, he knew. Young Hoster Tully was two years old. His sister, Lady Minisa Tully, was only two months old and the pride and joy of her lady mother. Jayne Tully, née Bracken, doted on her little daughter and his mother soon joined her in those endeavors.
He loved being with his mother's family, and it was the first night since Alys had left that he felt he could let his guard down. As a result, he drank a little too much but nothing major happened. He and Grey even played with little Hoster for a time. Grey seemed intrigued by the little boy with similar features to him and was very calm around the boy, but his message was clear. "The small two-legger is cute, but not part of the pack."
The next morning, he woke up late. He spent the rest of the morning reading letters from the North. One warmed his heart. Alys and their children had reached Winterfell safely and they and the baby growing inside her were healthy. She told him much the same as Jon had about Rickon. He was still wild, but he seemed to at least take the responsibility of being the Stark of Winterfell somewhat seriously.
The Ryswells had come to him about the fostering his father had agreed with him. He had explained the problems with it as he would be away from home a lot and needed Rickon to take ceremonial command of Winterfell when that happened, ast Bran was in Riverrun and Rickard still too small to do so. They understood and renegotiated the deal now that all the bad blood between their families had long disappeared.
A Ryswell cousin would be given a position in the Winterfell household, the Ryswells were given minor trade concessions along the western coast and the Ryswell heir would be officially introduced to the Ironborn nobles with the hopes of creating relations that would benefit both peoples.
After the midday meal, which he spent alone with Bran and his mother, he had a meeting with Uncle Edmure. As always, his other uncle was also present. He asked him how the Riverlands were fairing, and they went over a detailed description of every major house, as well as all the major projects after the war.
They soon came to the heart of the matter. "A few of my vassals have voiced their concerns about the appointment of the Northern lords and the planting of the weirwood trees." The Lord of the Riverrun voiced.
"Let me guess, Houses Piper, both Vances, Bracken and Stokeworth?" He sighed.
"Yes, those have done so. Houses Terrick and Perryn did too."
"All of those simply because of Blackwater Bay?" He asked.
"No, also because of the Goodbrook lands given to Lucas Blackwood. A few hundred Northerners and thousands of Old Gods believing Riverlanders have settled themselves on the former Goodbrook lands. With the help of houses Sumber and the others, he has also planted three more weirwood trees in the heart of the Riverlands. It is scaring some of the lords and if I'm honest, I must admit that I'm not entirely comfortable with it either." His uncle responded.
He waited before answering. He needed to be careful now. As long as he had his uncles on his side this would not be a problem, but alienating House Tully over this would be a grave mistake.
"Uncle, these weirwoods are simply places of worship. It is the same as building a Sept or hiring a wandering Septon to travel through the lands. This is done constantly in the Riverlands. For those people this is the same thing, nothing more. Besides, weirwood trees have existed in the Riverlands for thousands of years without threatening your way of life. You have one with a painted face in your own castle. Did that turn you to the Old Gods?"
The head of House Tully looked at him in thought. "No, it didn't." He finally relented.
"Neither will those handful of new ones convert your lords' people. They will simply provide a place of worship for those Old Gods believing people already here." Robb replied.
They locked eyes for a while, as he saw that his mother's brother was deep in thought. In the end he let out a sigh. "As long as they remain within the borders of those four lordships and the Blackwood lands, I will let it be. However, others outside it will not be permitted to do so to prevent unrest in the Riverlands. That will include the remaining Old Gods minorities scattered around. I will not budge on that." Uncle Edmure stated firmly.
He agreed on that. It was a small price to pay. Those Old Gods believers that wouldn't accept this could move to Blackwater Bay, the Blackwood or the Goodwood lands and be free in their worship.
"I do think something needs to be done to placate some of those houses." He continued the conversation.
"How so?" His uncle stated.
"We were at Pinkmaiden and the mood was almost hostile. I think it would be good for the realm if you would work on your relations with the houses of the Western Riverlands." He responded.
Lord Edmure looked at the Blackfish, who nodded in agreement. "What do you propose?"
"Invite them to your court a few times. Talk with them and reassure them in their insecurities. Maybe you could foster a future Piper child here at Riverrun? Marriages with future children could also be interesting, although I don't think a Piper would suit your heir seeing how weakened they got out of the war."
His uncle looked at him and nodded. "The Pipers are a well-respected family. They would be a good option for a younger child of mine to foster with or marry. I will make work of it in the future."
"Thank you, uncle." He smiled, which got him a nod in return.
"How is the Harrenhal area doing?" He asked him after some more conversation.
"Well enough, I think. I have visited it twice over the past few years and the castellan seems capable. With the help of some of the refugees from the Blackwater Bay area, parts of the area have been resettled. Infrastructure has been repaired and settlements restored. The population is still down from what it has been, but the people are starting to thrive again slowly. In time, the population should bounce back to what it once was." Lord Edmure replied.
He was pleased by the answer, but one obvious question remained unanswered. "What about the castle itself?"
This waved Edmure's proud smile from his face. "Robb, it's massive … I don't know how to pay for it all. I am trying to keep the areas that Lady Sheila had kept in use from falling into decay, but even that proves difficult. The other areas have been abandoned for decades and are useless without heavy investments. Coin that I don't want to waste."
"As I feared." He replied, whilst stroking his beard. "Have you thought about demolishing or changing parts of the keep to make it work?"
His uncle took a deep breath. "Yes, I have, but it is ambitious." The Blackfish looked at his nephew and simply raised an eyebrow.
"I was thinking of demolishing the three humongous towers that aren't in use as well as the second stable, the Hunter's Hall and other buildings in the western corner of the castle site. Harrenhal is trice the size of Winterfell. I was thinking of using the stones of the towers to build a wall, smaller than the curtain wall, around the area where the demolished buildings would have stood. In the area I think you could host a town of up to three thousand people. Those could serve as a recruiting ground for the large garrison that will be needed and serve as an additional source of income to sustain the large household, whilst significantly lowering expenses for upkeep by demolishing those parts."
He looked surprised at his uncle. "You want to include a town inside of the castle grounds?"
"Yes, I do. The curtain walls are incredibly strong. It would be a shame to have to pull them down, never would anyone rebuild such a feat of wonder. However, the area is far too large to be able to pay for its upkeep, even with its fertile lands. I would effectively demolish almost half the buildings in the keep. After that, the effective area of the castle would still be as large as Winterfell with the biggest Godswood south of the Neck as well. A well-established town with mostly stone buildings, a well-thought-out street pattern and a busy marketplace could fit in to it without a problem. If I build a wall to bar it off from the rest of the castle with the stones we will retrieve from those towers, it could function as a separate entity on the grounds. It might become the best protected town in Westeros."
"Aye, that could be true. Could you show me the plans on a map?" He asked.
Edmure stood up and rummaged through the papers on his desk. He got back with a map of Harrenhal and multiple maps showing sketches and a possible future lay-out. The Tower of Ghosts, the Wailing Tower and the Tower of Dread would be destroyed. The Kingspyre and Widow's Towers would be repaired as good as possible with the effects of the dragonfire still visible. To make up for the storage space lost from the Wailing Tower other smaller storage buildings would be constructed in the town and the cleared areas.
He looked over the plans that were clearly more than simple ideas. They had been worked out to a degree that spoke of the many hours of thinking that had gone into it. "This is an ambitious project." He finally remarked.
"It is." His uncle agreed.
"I think it could work, but with one big change you might not like to hear." He replied.
Edmure simply raised his eyebrow in question. "If you build the wall between the town and castle grounds smaller than the curtain walls, much of the defensiveness of the castle would be lost. If you infiltrate the town or get it to rebel, the soldiers could shoot from the curtain wall down on the other wall in places and force your troops off it."
Both his uncles looked over the plans. "I agree." Uncle Brynden remarked. "You would also have to rebuild the towers on the edges of the wall, to separate that part of curtain wall from the other parts of it for if the town were to fall or rebel."
The Lord of Riverrun sighed. "I think you are right. However, this will be a much bigger cost than initially thought. I will investigate the possibilities. Maybe I could expand the town a little more into the castle grounds or small parts of the Godswood to pay back the extra costs in time?"
He agreed to that. His uncle asked him about how the North was faring, and he spoke in detail on all the changes that were going on there. After a while, they simply leaned back in their chairs with glasses of Arbor Gold and enjoyed each other's company as they talked about their families.
"I have an offer for you, uncle." He asked after a while, whilst taking another sip of the excellent wine. He smiled thinking it had been part of the loot of the past wars. Maybe the fighting had been good for them after all.
"What is it, Robb?"
"I would extent an offer to you to foster Hoster in Winterfell when he turns eight years old." He voiced.
Lord Edmure looked surprised. "You would foster my heir in Winterfell, why?"
"Why? In time, he will be the second most powerful man in the kingdom, after my own heir. The both of them are family, but if they are raised hundreds of miles apart from each other they will never know it. Fostering them together could forge a partnership that could lead the kingdom to prosperity for another fifty years. Besides, I would foster other nobles with them as well. He could create bonds with the Northern nobility he would never have a chance to if he were to remain south of the Neck."
"Who would you be thinking of fostering with him?" Edmure asked.
"The Karstark heir is already certain. However, others will follow too. The Umber heir, the Manderly heir and Sansa and Arya's future sons are highly likely. Maybe some others like the Ryswells or Dustins would join too." He responded.
The head of House Tully stroked his cleanly trimmed beard. "It has its merits, but it could alienate him from the Riverlands too."
"I would see to it that that wouldn't happen. Uncle Brynden and my mother would be there constantly to tell him about his Tully heritage. Lord Mallister and other possible Riverlanders on the council could also educate him in that manner. Besides, he would only go there after the age of eight. Before that, his upbringing would be solely from the Riverlands. After that, he could serve as the bridge between both kingdoms. Firmly from the Riverlands, but well-liked by the Northerners and knowledgeable in their ways."
"You would be able to take him under your wing with your duties?" His uncle asked the Blackfish.
"If Robb allows it, then yes. I would tell him everything about our ancestors, especially his grandfather and great-grandfather. I could order my brothers to teach him the ways of the sword and battle tactics even when I am unavailable. He would receive the same education the Crown Prince will receive." His great-uncle replied and all he said was true. He had agreed to it beforehand.
"An interesting proposal, but it will depend on a few things. If Jayne and I are blessed with other sons, the proposal is an enticing one. However, if he is the sole boy we get, problems might arise if he is sent to the North." The Lord of Riverrun mused aloud.
The head of House Tully turned towards him. "Would you allow me to accept it on the condition that we get other sons as well? Maybe laten the starting age to nine or ten years old as well?"
He accepted of course. These were small concessions on his part, and he understood why they were asked. They hammered out a few small details until both were satisfied. After toasting to the continued good relations between Houses Stark and Tully, they got up together and left the solar. They spent the rest of the day playing with their family, from little Minisa Tully over Bran and him to Ser Brynden Tully. All had a lovely day in the Godswood of Riverrun and he sent a small prayer to his late grandfather Hoster in the hope that he would see his family so united in the end. From the moments that he had spent with him and the hundreds of stories that he had heard from uncle Brynden, he knew that the man would be overjoyed with this scene.
This is all for this chapter.
Robb makes his progress through the Riverlands, but not all goes well. Alys is pregnant again and demands to return home and does so after only half the trip. This, in combination with the growing resentment on the rise of the Old Gods in the Riverlands, creates frictions in the Riverlands. Robb does his best to mend these, we will see in future chapters if he succeeds or not.
We see how Robb's changes after the war work out in places like the Twins, Maidenpool, Rosby, Hayford and Riverport (King's Landing). Catelyn visits her childhood home again after 20 years of absence in the North and Robb plans future cooperation with House Tully whilst there.
The next chapter will have a 5 years' time jump, the longest up until now.
Thank you again for all your support.
Fannic
Reviews:
- GoMagikarp: Thank you for the corrections.
- Raigain123: The story premise was to show how the North would be different once some small things changed and it snowballed from there. We have seen how the war changed, but the North is still largely the same. We will see the Stark family, the North and Westeros change through the next few chapters.
Ned's whole thing was to take up the mantle after his father and brother were killed and ensure the survival of House Stark. It will end when Robb or the Stark generation passes away. However, there will be large timejumps from now on. We will see important parts of their live which will show how the world has changed.
- Scifiromance: Thank you for your praise! Roderick will be the person House Dustin needs to connect itself again to Winterfell. He is also a decent soldier and a great a dministrator. His expertise will help Robb to change much of the infrastructure in the kingdom.
- Iacopo Passerini: No worries, my friend! Thank you again for your dedication. I love to read your reviews, both in English and the beautiful Italian language (which I want to learn how to speak someday).
- Force Smuggler: Thank you!
- Longingresider: Thank you! Best of wishes to you and your family.
- Rebfan90: Thank you so much!
- George Christian810: Lyanna is Jon's daughter with Wylla Manderly. Alys had a miscarriage between chapters during the time jump. Miscarriages in the Middle Ages were very common, sadly they are still somewhat common to this day. It serves a dual purpose: Firstly, setting up this dynamic for the royal progress.
Secondly, showing that they will still have struggles in life like any people would and that they don't go around with godly tier plot armor. Secondly
- C. S. Tolkien: That is actually not entirely true. Most countries denoted time as "the second year of the reign of king …". It was only the clergy and in some cases very detailed administrators that kept better records. A case could be made that the Maesters and the Citadel would reject Robb's method of recordkeeping and keep the current calendar in their own writing, but lords would not. Maybe the Citadel has even kept the records all through the Targaryen era too.
I think Martin's form of writing reflects the calendar of the Anglo-Saxons in the early Middle Ages. It is very difficult to know when things happened until the arrival of the Danes and the Danelaw and it reflects that. Another clear-cut moment is 1066, after which record keeping becomes much easier.
No, I don't think Robb can do it better. I don't even think the calendar is better. It is just different and that is the intend to create a shift and destroy anything that reminds people of a united Westeros. A new status quo is exactly the reason why I am writing all of these chapters after Robb came home. However, now the status quo still needs to set in. There are still enemies, problems, ideas that aren't concrete, coin problems, … we'll see what the new status quo will be. Democracy here is out of the question, it just wouldn't do here. For democracy to exist you first need to have a bourgeoisie of merchants and magistrates which you simply don't have. Anyway, I thank you for the comment as it makes me think on everything just a little more.
- Supremus85: Thank you! I'm glad you can appreciate it, even though it isn't always your cup of tea.
- Guest: It is a cool idea, but I don't think it would ever happen. The Most Devout have transferred back to the Starry Sept in Oldtown. They won't ever forgive Robb for what happened to most of them during the sacks of King's Landing and the fact that the Great Sept of Baelor was destroyed with many heirlooms. They would also fall even more under the influence of the Hightowers and Tyrells, the latter who want their lands north of the Goldroad back. On top of that, the High Septons would hate the Starks for forbidding the Faith Militant in most of Westeros. So, in short: if there ever was a crusade, it would be against the Riverlands not Andalos.