The year is 286 AC. King Jaehaerys II has just passed, leaving the throne without a rightful ruler. While his three children fight for the crown, Winter creeps closer, and unimaginable darkness looms.
Not all alliances will be so typical this time. In fact, many people have a crucial effect on the way this story is told. As for the ending, we only hope there are enough people left alive to tell it after its passed.
Events
Join us for our first event, the wake of recently deceased King Jaehaerys II.
Updates
AUG. 19: So we are now officially open to the public. We have a mini-event flashback thread going on, and our main event just began. Feel free to make a second canon if you can keep both of them active enough.
Don't hesitate in pestering staff with questions; it's what we're here for! Let's raise a glass and make a cheer toward a successful launch of Winds of Winter.
Riverrun had been her home for four years now, and in that time, Ashe had adjusted with very little problem. It was mainly thanks to Edmund, who guided her as she went from being a young girl who feared her fate, to a woman who could support him from behind.
There was... just one thing however.
Well, it may be proper to say it was one of many things, and it was her relationship with Ed's firstborn. A son who may very well be a younger brother to her. Last she'd seen him, he was but a mere boy, a squire to his mother's house. Now however, he was a knight, and had returned to his father's keep, though Ashe rarely ever saw the young man, nor had the chance to talk to him.
Today however, would be different. Ashe sought the young Tully out searching for him as word of his presence in the keep reached her ears.
"Edyn." She'd finally call out as she found him walking ahead of her. "I'm glad to see you home. Are you well?" She kept to a kind, familial tone, gestures warm and welcoming.
[attr="class","likedoinfo"]Edyn had been in Riverrun on the day of their ceremony. Seeing his father marry a woman that was supposed to replace his mother had been bad enough. Having seen him marry a woman which was only a few years older than him had brought him to the brink of destruction. His shattered, void-filled self had become a tank full of anger and wrath.
Returning to the Vale of Arryn after the ceremony, had had finished his service to House Arryn, concluded by the knighthood received at the shoulder tap of Lord Arryn's sword. But the two years away from home, in the distance of the Vale, had done nothing positive to the psychological impact he had suffered at the perceived betrayal of his mother's legacy.
Killing mountain people whenever they crossed his increased patrols, hacking them down like filthy animals, had only dulled his pain a little. Even as he had returned home, he had sought violence and combat. Of course, in more civilized surroundings, he couldn't just beat down men and call it a day. Luckily, the Riverlands were population-filled, life concentrating along the watery ways, for they were veins of life, transporting goods and people.
There was always one tourney or another, and Ser Edyn had just returned to Riverrun from a beach joust below the castle gates of House Mallister's Seagard. Edyn wasn't satisfied. The joust wasn't the kind of violence that a melee offered. Even though he had been ahead in the tilt, he had attacked his opponent after he'd purposefully tried to hit his horse. Edyn had opened the knight's horse from one end to the other, The tournament judges had disqualified him for his violence and lack of chivalry, but he had never liked jousting anyway. Fucking cunts.
Always on the road, always ridng to some other tourney or task, it was no surprise that Edyn hadn't come across his father's new wife. But apparently, she had caught him, already knowing the castle of his childhood better than he did. He was colder than the North she came from, court, only by the stipulations of the laws of men.
She was in his father's bed. In his arms and heart. But she wasn't part of Edyn's world. But never-the-less, he greeted her. "Lady Stark."
Her eyes narrows ever so slightly at his mention of her former name. It was clear as day he didn't accept her, and it was understandable. His unwillingness to give her the chance on the other hand felt borderline extreme. "I'm not a Stark anymore Edyn. I've not been for years now." Though clearly, it mattered very little to him.
Ashe approached him, stopping about an arm's length away as her eyes moved over him, noting the unapproachable feeling he gave her, the one she was hoping to whittle at in due time. "Would you like to join me on a walk?"
[attr="class","likedoinfo"]"Is that so?" Edyn wondered, challenging her even as she went forward, trying to instill some kind of understanding.
When she came closer to him, he sent her a look of anger, one of cold hatred. If they were in the wilderness, he would find a way to off her. But in these walls, only the love of his father protected her from his hatred. Not for her person, but for the position she occupied.
"I wouldn't," he denied.
"I've been knighted by Lord Arryn, my uncle. In the Light of the Seven. It it custom to address a knight by title of Ser. I realize that the Northmen do not follow the customs of the South. But as you said. We're not in the North. You're not. But if you fail to follow our customs and traditions, maybe more Stark is left in you than you like to think."
His look didn't make her flinch, only saddened. She hadn't seen that look in years, and even longer when it came to it's intensity. It would be hard to get through to him. Impossible even. But she had to try. Less for herself, more for him and the anger he held.
"I suppose you're right. However, regardless of how much of me is of the north or the south, I do not believe in addressing family in such a formal way." She took a breath hoping to find the right words to say him. "It casts a wall between us. Almost like strangers. And I do not wish to be a stranger to you."
She knew she couldn't take his mother's place. She herself would not want that if someone tried to take her own mother's place (not like anyone could). But at the very least, if he could just...
[attr="class","likedoinfo"]"You don't believe in paying the proper respect to tradition? To a rank that's been earned? We are strangers. That will not change. Ever."
She couldn't demand that he considered her the Lady of Riverrun when she did not act courtly. Of course, Edyn was banking on the fact that she wanted to apply a more familiar approach. He didn't want to copy her advances. Her out of style, personal approach even allowed him to keep the distance by portraying her as the affronter.
The Riverlands were composed of pious smallfolk. Had they ever started liking a Northern lady? The North was different. They had their Old Gods, faces on trees and stories about monsters beyond the wall. Savage stories for a savage land. A savage land filled with savage people.
In his mind, she was an animal of an animal line.
And animals were hunted down.
"I've heard a story of the North. Your people bond with the tribes that live in the caves and mountains between Winterfell and the Wall. Is that right? They must be people similar to the Mountain Clans in the Vale of Arryn. But the Knights of the Vale don't bond with them. They hunt them down. They butcher them. Deservingly."
And Edyn had been fostered in the Vale, becoming part of the generation-long conflict. She was familiar with hard gazes? Was she familiar with the gaze of a man that had cut down women and children? There wasn't a moral hinderance in killing animals, was there?
Strangers. They were strangers. She knew it to be true hence why she wanted to change that. Were she not his father's wife, she wouldn't have minded continuing on as yet another face seen in passing. The boy had closed his heart to her and showed no interest in ever opening up. She was no stranger to the intent. She knew her attempt to sway him closer would be for naught lest she tried a different approach or... possibly, was not betrothed to his father.
A sigh slipped from her lips.
Had she been another woman of another house, it wouldn't have been difficult to imagine she'd have searched for a way to rid the Tullies of it's heir. A threat, an obstacle. The boy's grudge could grow into a force that would destroy whatever future could have been for both her and the child she'd bear for Edmund.
But that wasn't the case.
After four years of trying, Ashe had lost hope in granting the man a fourth child, instead finding herself looking after the children that he already had. Well, not that she had a grand time with it...
"The clans north of Winterfell aren't the most peaceful folk, true. But they can be reasoned with." For the most part. She'd seen some of them in the past. They seemed human enough. Many visited when the snow fell. Others were summoned to have their squabbles settled. They scared her. As did most things at the time. Ashe couldn't help but see his words to mean her people were no different from the savages they supposedly commune with. A slight that displeased her but spoke no more of.
"I can't say they are similar to the mountain clans of the Vale. I've never chanced upon one. I've only heard that they were savages, and that they're unwelcome." The conversation had turned. His gaze daggers compared to her own. He was no trout. He was a beast consumed in ire. Just how much hate did this boy have for her? Definitely more than what she wished to believe.
"If you haven't yet done so, I urge you to speak with your father. It'll make him happy." She couldn't do this alone. The boy wouldn't let her. "I won't take much more of your time. If you're about to leave again, then may the Old gods and the New watch over you Ser Edyn."
[attr="class","likedoinfo"]"The happiness of my father is of little concern to me, like the happiness of my mother was of little concern to him. If the Lord of the Riverlands summons me, I'll be obliged to answer. But a summoning demands a bigger purpose than happiness, doesn't it?"
Unrelenting, Edyn kept going.
He could swing for hours.
He wanted to swing. He didn't even want to use a sword. He wanted to use his hands, like the savages he had taken to disliking.
"I have no need for the Old Gods." But she might need them. Sooner than she would like. But hadn't they cursed her, turning her hair white? Making her as dry as the ground as her harsh land? It was no secret that her father was trying to make more children.
Perhaps they could make him happier. But she wouldn't know, would she? She'd be replaced and cast aside. But nothing was returned that had not been given. When she turned, Ser Edyn offered consolation. She had accepted the customs, at least for the time being, hadn't she?
"You're the Lady of Riverrun." That didn't make her a Tully. But still. She was the legal wife of his husband. But she wasn't expecting the words that hit her back to be anything but the daggers he had stared, did she?
"Your concern is noted. I have a place by your hearth; meat and mead at your table. You asked no ungodly service of me, nothing that would shame my name or the name of my house. Thank you, my lady. For allowing to express my gratitude to you. Thank you that you allow me to call home, the halls I was born in."
And then he turned as well. At last the morning had become rather enjoyable.
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