Planning Ahead
Ser Mark Ryswell, The Black Marya
Mark frowned when he cast his eye upon the Kingslayer, not that Mark would call him that. Not to his face at least, and the Mad King had well earned his fate. Mark considered the title to be useless in this case.
The boy clung to an injured black cat that he had brought with him. The little beast yowled in the presence of others and only Jaime could keep it calm. He walked towards his fellow knight, and the damned cat growled at him.
“Balerion, hush.” Jaime chastised the cat.
“You named him after the Black Dread?” Mark raised an eyebrow. What an odd choice.
“He's not mine,” Jaime said flatly. “He belongs – belonged, to princess Rhaenys.” The cat mewled sadly, the first sound it had made that wasn't threatening.
Mark studied the cat, “Those injuries,” He nodded to the cuts and the ruined ear.
“He tried to save his mistress, for all the good it did him,” Jaime looked away as his eyes began to water.
“Loyal,” Mark murmured and reached into his pocket. “The Maester says that this salve should help with any infection. You're the only one here that he even likes so...” He held out a small container which Jaime accepted.
“Thank you,” Jaime muttered while Mark noticed that the cat cuddled into the Lion Knight. “How long before we reach land?”
“Littlesister should come into view at any moment. We'll spend sometime there with House Wade of the Second Shallows.” House Wade was not of the original branch, which had resided in Dorne before the Andals and Rhoynar came, but they were descended from the house and had been staunch Stark loyalists for a long time. Mark expected no trouble from them, if they had guests however, that might be a different story. “Why do you ask?”
Jaime shrugged and smirked, “The sea is not a place for a Lion. And I need to speak with your liege and ask for sanctuary.” He admitted quietly.
“I find myself confused, Ser Jaime, why did you run to begin with?”
“I'd rather explain it to lord Rickard and his heir,” Ser Jaime's voice is sharp and full of warning. Then he smirked to try and ease the sudden tension. “If I tell you my reasons now, then I may have to tell others who ask. I don't like to repeat myself and really, its your lords judgment that I will face, not yours or anyone else.”
He turned away and Mark shrugged. What Jaime said was true, “I'll leave you and your companion too it then.” He turned to walk away.
“She tried to give him wings.”
“What?” Mark turned back with a frown.
“Rhaenys tried to give this little demon some wings. Gods know how much leather and string she hacked up in her attempts.” Jaime said fondly before he grimaced. “She never got a chance to finish them.”
“Maybe you can finish them for her,” Mark offered with a slight grin and Jaime scoffed playfully.
“Do I look like a damn seamstress to you?”
They both shared a small laugh and then went their separate ways.
Lady Catelyn Stark, the Riverlands
Catelyn wasn't sure if her uncle being here was a blessing or a curse. To be sure, she did love her uncle and she knew that he loved her but he was too...different from the rest of the family.
“A copper for your thoughts, Cat?” Her uncle asked after he took a drink of water. She startled for a moment before she responded.
“Uncle, why did you not marry when my father asked you too?” She hadn't meant to say that but it was out there and hopefully her uncle wouldn't be too upset.
Brynden sighed, “He didn't ask me Cat, he expected it, demanded it even. If I was his child I would have no choice,” He gave her an apologetic look.
“And the old laws state that the younger sibling answers to the elder but I fought in a damn war and I wasn't in the mood to deal with your father. We fought each other, insulted each other, and in the end, I went away. Until this War.”
Catelyn frowned, “Where did you go uncle?” That was always a mystery to her since she never received any news about him while he was away.
“Traveled for a bit, killed a few bandits here and there. I mainly took shelter with a friend named Raymond and his family near the Gods Eye though he was from the Vale. Ray of the Mountains is what he was called sometimes but he was also known as Ray the Septon.”
“Why?”
“Well he kept going on about how he would join the Faith after the last war. But he was too broken to truly lead any sermons about peace, especially since he stopped believing in the religion altogether.”
Catelyn frowned more harshly this time. Her uncle paused to take another sip of his water before he continued.
“I wouldn't frown so much Cat, you'll have wrinkles before you've seen thirty years.”
“Why would he turn his back on something that he clearly wanted to be a part of?”
“He said that the war proved to him that the gods don't actually care about us. If they did, so many of those who couldn't fight back wouldn't be slaughtered like pigs.”
“That's not the will of the gods,” Catelyn protested. “That is the folly of man!”
“And we are made in their image, are we not? We give them our thoughts and our prayers. Yet we hear nothing.” He grimaced. “I don't entirely agree with what Ray said but he's not wrong. In times of war, it feels like the gods abandon us and sometimes I almost feel ashamed that I was knighted in the Light of the Seven.”
“But-” Catelyn stopped. She couldn't think of a rebuttal to one's own personal beliefs especially since that person wasn't here. Instead she turned to the sound of children playing games across the river.
“You could be forgiven if you thought that a war hadn't just taken place after seeing that.” She nodded softly in the direction of the children. Her uncle made a small noise of agreement.
“During the wars I had been in, it used to help thinking about how in the rest of the world absolutely nothing was happening and that one day, no matter how short that nothingness lasted, Westeros would embrace it.”
They settled into a small silence that was broken by a rider for house Stark.
“My lady, Lord Stark says it is time to continue with our journey.” The rider said curtly, eying her with slight apprehension. He doesn't trust me, she thought. Everyone of the Stark men had heard what her father said about their lords grandchildren and they expected her to do something in the same vein.
“I will be along shortly,” She replied and received another curt nod before the rider turned around and rode back to where he came from.
“There is a whole country full of people like that you know,” Her uncle gave her a look. “They don't care for the south, less so because of what has happened. I'm sure enough of them already know about what your father said to Lord Stark by now. Are you prepared to earn their trust?”
“I am,” She wasn't foolish, she knew that it would be a hard road for her to be accepted even with a bit of the First Men blood that ran through her veins. “I know my duty.”
“Its more than just duty Cat,” Brynden sighed. “Their lifestyle and culture is vastly different to ours. They love the things that we are supposed to despise, namely bastards.”
Catelyn clenched her jaw and turned away from her uncle.
“Cat,” Brynden warned.
“I won't mistreat any bastard that I see, but I won't mother them either,” She spat at him. “The sacred text -”
“Are nothing more than words. They, like any vow, can be disregarded. You firmly believe in the Seven and the teachings you were given as a child. But you have to remember that there is a time and place for something like that. And there are very few places like that passed the Neck.”
“I -” She struggled to think of a response. Part of her would never let got of what she was taught but now she was no longer just a Tully, now she was a Stark. She was apart of the ruling house of the North. A house that could have fought against the Targaryen's but put aside that notion to stop the looming threat beyond the now defunct Wall.
It was the Starks that came to the aid of the Riverlands when the Ironborn started to conquer the country. They had taken the Iron Islands when the bulk of its forces were on land and had added it to their generous holdings. It was they that Harren the Black truly feared and what made him sit in that lasting symbol of slavery he called a castle until his death.
The Starks had endured the Red Kings, the Horse Kings, and the Southern Kings that tried to claim their lands, and they also knew when to put pride aside to save their kingdom and keep their traditions. Catelyn had no delusions that she would be able to change the minds of anyone in her new family or their countrymen. Not that she would try anyway.
“I will not mistreat them,” She repeated and her uncle started at her with an expression that bordered on pity. “But I cannot be a mother to them, it is improper.”
“If that is all you are willing to give, I don't think anyone could begrudge you for that. Come, lets not keep lord Rickard waiting."
Lord Harlon Frost, Moat Cailin
Harlon studied the blue grey blade in his hand before he went back to sharpening it. It was a pointless task, since Cold Steel was just as sharp as Sky Metal or Dragon Steel and didn't need to be sharpened. But he needed to take his mind off of the things he learned, even his wife’s announcement that she was with child.
He already knew that she would birth him a healthy son, thanks to the power that his friend possessed. He frowned at the dagger as he waved it around. Somehow the mother of his little cousin had found a way to forge two metals that shouldn't be fused to one another and she was planning on giving it to him.
It was a dangerous weapon before she did what she did, but now it was an unknown quantity. He knew why she did what she did and he knew what must be done about it. The road before them would be bloody, and he would be short one brother if things went the way that he hoped. He sighed and set down his blade so he could go see his wife and think about the some names for their child.