章 260: 13
285 AC
The letter summoning me to Winterfell arrived exactly to the surprise of none – at all. I had been making too many waves lately for anything else to happen but I felt myself well prepared for the confrontation to come. My relations to the north of the wall all happened in a gray area where law (there was none against it) and common sentiment (there was a lot against it) were inevitably set to collide in a violent way. Well, I hoped that it would be less of a confrontation and more of a civil talk about things, but one never knew. In fact I was a little surprised that Lord Stark or even Lord Glover had not sent a letter the moment it became apparent that I was trading north of the wall.
Wyndal was finally the one to put it into perspective. Both lords had likely waited to see if I would either persist in my madness and ruin myself doing so and – or – get my people massacred in their northern outpost. In that case they could simply have pointed out the 'stupidity of youth' I had fallen prey to and ordered me to desist for my own good. Of course this approach was now doomed to fail as I had gone and actually had success doing what everybody else had considered suicide, if not literal than at the least socially. The second would have been enough to force most nobles to leave it be as well, but I was a social pariah anyway with only a few lords even talking to me so why should I care? Taken together with the sudden increase in taxes flowing into the coffers of my overlords because of the trade made it necessary for them to do… something. Hence, the letter. Interesting times.
The summoning thankfully did not specify that I had to appear in a hurry so I took my time wrapping up my usual business before taking an escort to the northern capital. Most was well within my domain as the many things I had kicked off over the years continued to pay dividends.
My port continued to grow in size and prosperity nearly beyond my ability to control the change. It made little difference that my immigration bounty had run out or that I had started to increase docking fees slightly, the people and the trade continued to arrive and even picked up, which left me somewhat flummoxed for a while. Thankfully it took Wyndal only a little effort to divine the reason as he had taken over my late wife's role in my infant information network. It seemed that the rest of the kingdoms continued to tether on the edge of anarchy as the shockwaves sent by the rebellion continued to affect everything.
Dorne had closed it's land bound borders and was only reachable by sea and even then strangers were looked at with a lot of suspicion. They mostly had contact with the Reach and the Targaryens and ignored the rest of Westeros beyond the lip service they paid to their loyalty to the Iron Throne and it's current king. My ships were actually some of the few other westerosi allowed into port because I had seen Ashara Dayne and her "son" north safely during the last throes of the rebellion. Because of this the gates of Starfall were still open to me and their traders in turn found a safe port in my lands. This again left me as one of the few sources for dornish spices and other luxury goods, filling my coffers even further as yet another – likely temporary – monopoly fell into my lap. Well, monopoly was too a strong word, really. It was more like I was one of the few people able to get the stuff, leaving me in a good position all around. And looked on suspiciously by some people, of course. After all...wasn't this yet another proof of my southron leanings? One couldn't go much further south than Dorne, after all.
The Reach had tried to keep up the pretense of stability after the indecisive resolution of the war but it had not lasted even a few years. By now everyone and their brother knew that the fertile lands were locked in a power struggle between House Florent and House Tyrell. Things had not become overly violent yet but there had been a sudden rise in the 'accident related' mortality rate of nobles all over the paramouncy, throwing many a house into even more – mostly internal – turmoil. This again caused a lot of people to look for more stable areas to settle down in as they saw the writing on the wall of a civil war about to kick off on a small scale at the very least. By now the word that I was accepting immigrants regardless of their ability, age, gender or heritage had reached even the furthest parts of Westeros and it showed as I was seeing more and more arrivals from the Reach. For now it was mostly those more affluent and skilled as they had the means to brave the distance easier but I suspected that I would see a lot of less lucky people arriving before long.
The Westerlands were also struggling with a lot of houses having become leaderless in the Kings Fire. Most of those had gotten new overlords by now but they were far less experienced and it showed. Mostly because young lords wanted to 'prove' themselves to their peers and took more risks than necessary, often kicking over an anthill too many in their quest. The only one not doing this was Lord Crakehall, but only because he had been one of the first to run into a wall doing just that. He had survived the sea battle and learned of the experience, costly as it had been for him and his house. Next to most of his fleet having been sunk his port had been raided by reavers and a lot of damage in material and people had been done. He had been more cautious ever since, which led to his lands being known as an area of stability and receiving a lot of immigrants as well. This in turn allowed him to recover a lot faster than he might have otherwise. The rest of the Westerlands though continued to be in turmoil with Lord Jamie Lannister having his work cut out for him keeping everything more or less in control.
While he was no Tywin he nonetheless managed well enough, mostly by delegating a lot of things to his uncles, who were very able men in their own regard. Next to his own problems he also did his best to keep the crownlands afloat as well, his sister being married to King Robert and all that. Rebuilding the capital was costing a lot of money and while neither of the royals slept in a tent it would be some years yet before the Red Keep became available for habitation again. Even if he managed to keep everything on track and consolidated the crownlands behind himself, I had the suspicion that the seven kingdoms were still set to fly apart at the seams at some point in the future. Jeoffry Barathon had been reported to have green eyes and golden hair.
If my suspicions proved to be correct then the Targaryens could easily kick off another civil war and would even have some sort of legitimacy to it. For now though they were up to their eyebrows in problems of their own as their old followers flocked to them and all but overran Dragonstone. The island could not support the explosion in population as the House of the dragon was struggling mightily to keep everyone fed but they still managed… somehow. I suspected that they had taken a lot of the royal treasury with them on their flight and were currently burning through it like nobody's business. Even so they would have to find a more sustainable way if they wanted to keep the manpower that had fallen into their lap. Maybe I would finally get an answer to the offer I wrote regarding the obsidian? Not that I needed it any longer…
The stormlands on the other hand were mostly stable, Stannis ruling from Storms End with an iron fist, but one could hardly call him unfair. Hard, yes. Unfair or cruel, no. His unyielding stance on many things had earned him few friends but it managed to instill a state of calm in all lands under his rule, showing him to be a more capable lord than most others one cared to name. Little other news was heard of the stormy area, the paramouncy too involved with internal matters to do much else.
The vale also faced internal problems with the mountain clans using the high death toll during the rebellion to kick off a struggle to drive the 'andal invaders' off their ancestral lands. They had no chance in the long run of course but for now they burned and plundered a bloody swath through the mountainous region, leaving yet another area focused mostly on local matters. Contrary to the other kingdoms this had not been followed by a wave of smallfolk leaving for greener pastures but instead by everyone digging in and stubbornly fighting for every stone and field. It seems that the vale inhabitants really were a stubborn lot all around, Andal and First Men alike.
Lord Brynden Tully could not help his old home in these times as he had his hands full with the quarreling mess the Riverlands had been since...well..ever. The fertile land had seen most of the fighting during the rebellion and a lot was still destroyed or in the process of being rebuilt. Dozens of bandit groups plagued the efforts and 'rouge' ironborn bands had been making a pain of themselves all over the coast. With the losses during the rebellion the Tullys and their bannerman struggled greatly to fight off both and did not manage to decisively defeat either. Neither had the Tullys or even the Westerlanders the resources to call the Greyjoys on their bullshit without really committing, which they could not do because of all the other problems plaguing them. As one could easily see there was a good reason why most of the immigrants arriving at my lands hailed from the Riverlands and likely would remain so for some time yet.
The north on the other hand continued to be mostly calm even though we suffered the effects of the bloody rebellion as well. Our numbers had never been high and the rebellion had not helped it any, leaving many a settlement abandoned or greatly decreased. A lot of houses had changed hands as well but the transition had been a lot smoother than other lands in the south had experienced. While bandits remained a problem they were steadily whittled down and would likely reach pre war levels in another year or two. Another thing – that would help me greatly with Lord Stark and the nobles currently screaming bloody murder because of my actions – was that the raids by wildlings had significantly decreased and continued to plummet as my trade volume increased just as heavily.
By now I was really anticipating the Ironborn rebellion as it would give Westeros a common enemy to gather against – everybody and their aunt hated the reavers – and likely repair the rifts ripped into society by the rebellion at least a little. I really could not use a war of the five kings that kicked off before canon events or at all, really. Sadly I did not see a way out of that clusterfuck at this point in time as the continent remained a powder keg ready to explode at the smallest spark.
My low level warfare against the ironborn also continued but I had lost a lot less wood this year than I had the last two combined, making me deeply suspicious as the overall conditions had changed little. I had gained another galley, bought in the Westerlands, I could point at potential problems and three more cogs currently mostly focused on trading up north but that was it. I did not think that the Lord Reaver of Pyke would be ready to launch his invasion just yet, so there was something else afoot – likely a source of wood easier to access than the forests I was protecting. Knowing that I could not stop the reavers from rebelling anyway I actually did not care overly much. Some things just had too much inertia to not happen and considering how rabbid a lot of ironborn were about their 'iron price' I considered the uprising of the reavers to be one of those things.
The relative calm on northern water would also be something I would and did claim as my success, hopefully giving me another argument to fend off detractors with. While I did not have many fans or even friends in the north there were some that stood by me and continued to do so.
Bryle first amongst all held true to me despite the considerable pressure to leave me to my own fate. He persisted nonetheless and told any comers to fuck off right in their face, house Whitehill being the last one to be thrown out of his home on their ear after voicing a sentiment of that sort. That they also insulted his wife at the same time did not help them any. This of course impacted his revenue greatly as trade with his neighbors dried up suddenly but that was of little concern as I could easily take up the slack and even increased the volume. Having a harbor really was a boon in this. By now most of my friends' trade was with me and he profited greatly from it as I made him a fair deal – always.
Lord Glover also kept true to me. Beyond me being his vassal and him being obligated to at least make a token defense in my favor, he did not like others trying to slay his 'golden goose', my steadily expanding revenue having all but doubled the taxes he earned and I was far from finished with my expansion. As such he had become one of my more vocal defenders mostly due to economic concerns – he was less than enthusiastic about my wildling venture – even though he would never outright say it. In the end I could use every bit of help on the minefield that was politics, so I could live with this just fine.
House Forrester and the other small vassals of house Glover – Branch and Woods – neither acted in my defense nor did they try to attack me, which I took as silent support all things considered. They also profited from my prosperity by proximity if nothing else, their lands also seeing an upswing in trade and immigrants even if on a far smaller scale than what I was experiencing.
On the other side of the continent house Ironsmith stayed friendly even if lord Jegrod was careful not to voice his opinion too loudly. He was too far away and too reliant on the trade of less friendly lords to be more supportive but he continued as he was, talking to me about runes and ancient history like the enthusiast he would always be. In his mind no one that shared his interests could be in any way bad or honourless, the opinion of less sophisticated lords be damned.
House Manderly also stayed friendly, earning me another powerful supporter as they continued to be one of the strongest northern houses even after the rebellion and the losses taken therein. Lately they had started to inquire about my trade north and I greatly suspected that they would try their luck 'up north' before long after witnessing my success. Still, they were a cautious lot and likely would only do so after the results of my meeting with Lord Stark became known. They were also trading with the Targaryens, which earned them a lot of flak as well and ironically left them in the same place I found myself even if to a much lesser degree. On the other hand they could afford to be snubbed by other northern nobles much better than me, being an order of magnitude more powerful.
Much to my amusement the similarities between house Manderly and house Ryther caused people of all stations to look all the harder for differences. While both houses had a focus on the sea and trade there was also a difference in location, religion and… color. Yes, somehow that was what most people focussed on for some innate reason. 'White' harbor was quickly registered as the equal and opposite of the 'Blackhand's port', which almost overnight led to smallfolk all over the kingdoms forgetting the real name `Rytherport` and taken to calling it 'the black port' or simply `Blackport`. To me it seems like the south most of all just found it more catchy to have a White Harbor belonging to the followers of the Seven – even if they listened to their heathen overlords – on one side of the continent and a Black Port beholden to the vicious Old Gods on the other one. As even my own smallfolk had taken a liking to the name, I suspected that it would be the one officially used before long.
My most steadfast supporter of course remained house Stark, the northern overlord's haven elevated me to my current position. Lord Stark had little choice but to give me the benefit of the doubt all things considered, really. While he could smack me down hard if he needed to he was unlikely to do so without talking to me first and me doing something truly unforgivable like trading slaves or the like. I nonetheless would have to make a good argument once I arrived in Winterfell or he just might be forced to bend to popular demand and cut me loose. Still, I suspected that I wouldn't have to put too much effort into convincing him to my way of thinking, knowing that my presence and my actions had helped the north greatly and was continuing to do so even now.
Looking up from my musings I see my son, Nathan, standing in the door to my solar looking very much insecure and trying to hide it. The boy had grown like a weed and at almost six years of age he had recently started his arms training with Harren as one could see at the small bruise on his left cheek. The boy reminded me painfully of Jasana as he favored her looks but I also saw a lot of myself in him, mostly in moments like this.
"When will we leave?", he asks with some excitement shining through an almost pleading expression.
I shake my head as I point the roll of paper I was holding at him. "You won't. And you know this."
His expression turns mulish. "You said that I could accompany you when I am older. Well, I am older now!"
Already feeling a headache starting at the stubbornness of my heir I just stare at him for a long moment, waiting for him to grow uncomfortable before I continue.
"So I did but I am still your father and I decide at what point 'older' becomes 'old enough', not you. Now stop ignoring the parts you do not like of what I tell you and go back to your training. Harren will be waiting and you will not like what he does if you are late."
The small boy huffs angrily but turns to leave at once, one time being too late and the resulting extra exercises having been enough for the boy. I shake my head in amusement and stare at the closed door. While it was true that Nathan would be fostered by lord Stark it would only happen after his seventh birthday, more than a year from now. I did also loathe to take him with me on the journey with the north being plagued by brigands as it still was. After the lad was old enough I would escort him to Winterfell, making a stop visiting Clan Wull beforehand, killing two birds with one stone. Until then, he would remain in Rytherstone, training and pouting.
I had just returned to my work as Wyndal barged into my room, the door nearly shattering against the wall behind it at the strength the man had put into the motion. I am already halfway out of my seat with a half drawn sword in my hand, having been completely surprised, before arresting the motion and sitting back down.
"Yes?", I inquired with forced calm as I tried to control my heart that was trying its hardest to beat itself through my ribcage.
"You have to come to the docks. Now!", he gasps before grabbing me and all but dragging me through the corridors before I can get a word in edgewise. It takes me a few seconds to actually transit to moving alongside him instead of being dragged like an unruly child. We have barely made it to the inner courtyard as a young woman clad in the usual wildling gear of a little more than twenty years of age arrives through the gate, escorted by half a dozen of my men. In her arms she holds a child roughly of the same age as Nathan, the boy looking around with wide and curious eyes.
Wyndal takes the sudden development in stride and walks up to the woman, bowing slightly before turning around with a smile. "Milord, may I present Alysanne Umber, daughter of Mors Umber, who has been lost beyond the wall for nearly ten years."
I blink in surprise but roll with the situation as presented to myself, bowing slightly as well. "My lady, be welcome to Rytherstone. I offer my hospitality for however long you intend to stay."
She nods decisively and jumps off her horse, her son following after her carefully. Walking up to me she noticed me glancing at the boy and meets my eyes challengingly, resulting in my eyebrows raising a little and shrugging. The family resemblance was clearly there so the boy was likely her son. Taken together with the fact that she had gone missing – abducted by wildlings – more than ten years ago I could make a guess that the boy likely did not have a noble born father. Not that I cared overly much.
"We will gladly partake in your hospitality in the spirit it was offered, my Lord.", she finally replies, the words sounding rusty and ill used. I heavily suspected that she had been using the old tongue more than the common one these last years, something that is verified a moment later as she softly cuffs the small boy that made a move to leave her side driven by curiosity, the voice softly reprimanding him in the language I had yet to learn completely.
"I am sure you have quite... a story... to tell, my Lady. If it pleases you I would be glad to hear it after you have refreshed yourself.", I continue carefully, to which she nods and is led off to the guest quarters by some of my servants. Watching her and her son leave I shake my head. Alysanne Umber, just my luck.
"Wyndal, what the fuck just happened?", I breath out without turning to the man at my side, who was watching the woman leave just as I did.
"If my information is correct she just showed up at Snowfort one day and demanded passage south. After the men recognized her name she was all but thrown on board of a cog and arrived an hour ago. I had her pointed at Rytherstone as soon as I learned of her presence."
I hum in thought, many scenarios flashing through my mind. "Send a letter to lord Stark at once but keep it quiet otherwise, for now at least."
"The Umbers?"
"We have no Raven aimed at Last Hearth as you well know, Wyndal. Include this information in the letter to lord Stark, if you will."
He bows and moves off in the direction of the ravenry, steps hurried but not panicked. I remain in the courtyard for a moment longer, sorting through the recent event. The story of the 'stolen' girl was known all through the north and the almost fanatical hatred against wildlings Mors Umber, the castellan of Last Hearth, harbored because of it. Having her returned through my trade network would earn me the instant gratitude of a powerful northern house. Sadly, her having an obviously half wildling son born out of wedlock would complicate the matter by a considerable margin. I sigh, the headache I had fought off earlier reappearing with a vengeance.
A few hours later I am sitting across from Alysanne, the woman having switched into more northern fashion and discarded the clothes she arrived in. I had to admit that she was a beautiful woman, the slightly and nearly faded scar leading from her left ear to her chin only adding to her appeal. In a way she reminded me of my departed wife with the wildness lurking at the very edge of my perspective whenever I looked at her and the challenging look she threw me whenever I made eye contact. I could not help but smile and smothered the expression by taking a deep drag of my tankard, the strong northern beer going down smoothly.
Her son, Thormuht – Thor for short, was off a little to the side play fighting with Nathan, the two boys having hit it off at once despite being unable to communicate all that well. While little Thor knew some of the common tongue because of his mother he had spoken the old tongue most of his life and was struggling to keep up with the high speed babbling my son was subjecting him to. I smiled softly at the scene, as did Alysanne until she noticed my look and cleared her expression again.
"You have been missing for a long while, my Lady.", I finally break the strained silence with a statement that could or could not be interpreted as a question.
She stays silent for a moment before finally speaking up as well, each word carefully pronounced as she continued to get used to speaking a language she had not used for more than half her life.
"Aye, it has been a very long time."
Mentally groaning at the lack of information I switch tracks and outright come to the point. "May I ask what happened and how you ended up in Snowfort?"
"I do not remember much of Last Hearth", she starts after a short moment of gathering herself, "the memory is muted by time and distance. But I recall my father… the big man always there when I needed him. Powerful, strong… even after losing an eye he always appeared to be unbeatable to me. To be omnipresent."
Taking a deep breath she continues, gaze far away. "Until one day he wasn't present. Instead the raiders of the free folk encountered me and my guards outside the walls and dragged me off after a brief battle. Before I knew it I was north of the wall, leaving any hope of returning home behind as they forced me forwards...ever forwards."
The hall had grown silent as the other people present turned to listen as well. Alysanne did not seem to register this, completely off in a world of far away memories.
"I soon had the choice of making my home amongst the haunted forest or trying to escape south. At the time I did not have the skills I do have now… I would not have made it two days apart from my captors. I adapted… and buried the thought of ever returning home. Some years later I allowed myself to be stolen by a warrior I had grown to like."
Her expression remained empty but grew melancholic and a little pained. "Raymun was a good man, if a little rough at the edges. An able warrior and competent hunter, we suffered no hunger even in the deepest winter… but everyone can die if not careful. A bear got him in a moment he was distracted. While we killed the beast in the end it was too late for him."
Face grim she turns to me and looks me in the eyes, "Not long after Varamyr's shadowcat started stalking me. I had no intention of entertaining his…. Company."
Taking a deep breath she takes a sip of her own tankard. "Snowfort has been talked about a lot since it was founded and I knew that northmen would be present there. Varamyr would block the way to the wall, so I took a risk and moved west instead. By the time I made it to the settlement the shadowcat had again started to appear and I suspect that I would have been stolen against my will, had I even been a few hours slower."
"My men recognized you and you sailed off before he could catch up again.", I completed the story that, while lacking many details, was comprehensive enough. She nods, "Aye, just so. Without your trade with the clansmen I would have had to head for the wall but likely never made it. Even so I only escaped the warg by moving in a direction he did not expect."
I lean back in my chair and take another gulp of my drink. This would of course explain why she had never reappeared in the books or show. Without my actions Varamyr would have caught her and no one would have been any wiser regarding her continuous survival.
"I am heading for Winterfell shortly and offer you a place in my group, if you wish to return home. From Lord Starks holdfast an escort to Last Hearth will be easily arranged.", I offer after a few seconds of silence, the woman across from me looking deeply conflicted at it.
"I do not know how my father will react to Thor's existence.", she finally admits and looks a little scared at admitting to her – as I suspected – greatest fear, even though she did her very best to hide her emotions.
"The lad can stay at Rytherstone for the duration of our journey, to follow after everything has been… handled.", I offer after a moment of thinking it over, a lot of tension draining out of the woman at my words.
„I will owe you yet again, it seems.", she agrees to my proposal a little later before a small amused smile appears on her face as Nathan and Thor race by our table, laughing happily. "It seems he will barely miss me."
"Children always miss their parents. They may not like to admit it sometimes but deep inside it is something that every human being has in common.", I gently rebuke her and she nods sadly, already again half away in her own mental world.
We speak some more about general things and she is for example very surprised to learn of the recent rebellion and the results. She had never considered the possibility of house Targaryen losing the crown but admits that she had had other things taking her time on the other side of the wall, 'kneeler politics' being just about as unimportant as they could be if compared to staying well fed and warm. And taking care of her little one, of course.
A week later we are off to Winterfell.
The situation in the north being as unsafe as it was I had intended to take a strong escort anyway but having the lost daughter of a major noble house along made security even more important. Because of this I had nearly tripled my guard from a dozen to an even thirty men, all equipped and armed to the best of my ability. The journey thankfully turns out to be boring all the way to our goal, leaving me to mull over the fact that boredom is something I have learned to value a lot and the reasons behind it. No bandit attacks occur and even the weather stays reasonably fair, resulting in us making better time than I had ever before on the road.
The citadel of house Stark remains as impressive as it has always been as it appears on the horizon, Alysanne gasping in wonder as she rides next to me. Mentally I nod to myself, remembering the fact that she had never laid eyes on the northern capital before being spirited to the other side of the wall. While the giant slab of ice and snow at the border of civilized lands was impressive as heck it still was a straight wall and not a giant castle like Winterfell. Riding into the castle we are greeted by Eddard Stark himself as well as a man wearing a white bearskin, who stared at Alysanne with his one remaining eye. I more feel than see my guest stiffen in her saddle as we approach and more off our horses.
"Lord Stark", I greet my overlord with a bow before turning to the other man and hesitating for a moment. "Lord Umber, I presume?"
"Lord Ryther, Lady Umber... welcome to Winterfell.", Eddard Stark jumps into the conversation before the other man can open his mouth. "Allow me to introduce Mors Umber, castellan of Last Hearth."
Father and daughter stare at each other for a long moment before Alysanne takes a hesitant step in the direction of the large man, who had kept staring at her completely silent. The motion jars him out of his stupor and he opens his arms wide, Alysanne all but teleporting across the remaining distance and sinking into his embrace. She starts crying not a second later, clutching her father like it was the last thing she would ever do as her composure shatters completely. The man only takes the time to nod at Lord Stark before returning his full attention to his daughter, carefully leading her away while I am left behind with the Lord Paramount of the north.
"You did a great thing there", he finally speaks up as he watches them go and I grunt.
"I did nothing beyond providing her with an escort to Winterfell."
"You did far more than that and we both know it.", he corrects me before waving in the direction the two Umbers had disappeared in. "More importantly, others know it as well."
I remain silent as I am led to his solar, where refreshments are already waiting for us. Tired from my long journey I dig in ravenously as he watches in silence for a long moment, only speaking up once I slow down some. "Are you up to some serious discussion or should we reschedule to tomorrow, leaving you to rest after the strenuous journey?"
Hesitating for a moment I finally nod. While I felt tired I nonetheless wanted the reason for the whole trip over and done with at the soonest opportunity. There was nothing to be gained by waiting and I felt mostly bodily tired, my mind was just fine.
"My 'northern adventure' as some have taken to calling it?", I sigh and go right for the kill. Some other names that nobles had tried to stick to my venture had included the words 'folly' and 'feast', the second hinting at all men I send getting set up to be eaten by cannibals. As none of that happened and I actually made it work those titles did not stick around, much to the ire of less fortunate lords.
"Aye.", Eddard grunts and throws me a sour look, "what by all the gods old and new have you been thinking?!"
Pausing for a moment I reply just as tersely. "I have been thinking that the wildlings would raid less if they get resources by trade. I have been thinking that the present enmity profits no one and harms anyone. I have been thinking that doing things because 'they have always been like this' might not be the best way to go about it. I have been thinking that the men on both sides of the wall are of the north! I have been thinking some things are worth taking risks for!"
"You have also been thinking that the Others are back", Lord Stark calmly interrupts my tirade and shuts me up at once, completely thrown for a moment.
"I have been thinking that that is what the wildlings, the free folk as they call themselves, believe...yes. I have not yet seen any proof but I am also not willing to take the chance of it being true."
He leans forward and places one of the obsidian daggers I had gifted his family during the last spring festival on the table. "You believe it enough to give away an artifact from the age of heroes and loudly state a way to defeat them with all major nobles of the north present… even if you wrapped it up in myth and legends."
I stay silent as he continues on, never having outright asked a question, and sighs. "Be it as it may. The reason behind you setting up your new settlement – Snowfort, what an apt name… - no longer really matter anyway."
"I find the reason behind an action to always matter… my lord.", I gently counter only for him to shake his head slightly.
"Sometimes that is all there is to it, other times the results are what the attention is drawn to.", he grunts and waves at a pile of opened letters. "A lot of my lords have been calling for me to do something about you reaching out to our enemies – even a complaint from the Night's Watch is in that pile – but do you know what I found as I looked up the matter?"
"No…?", I hesitatingly question and am only slightly calmed by his satisfied expression.
"Nothing. There is no law against trading with the wildlings."
I released a breath I had not known I was holding and sunk slightly further into my seat at his words. Thank god, that was one major disaster averted. I had of course also searched through the laws available to me and found likewise but Lord Stark had far greater access to books and other things than I could boast at this point in time.
"Which still leaves me with a lot of angry nobles because of your actions, legal or not, which I cannot ignore.", he continues without changing his expression, making me tense up again.
"My Lord?"
"The north is weak at this time, Darren", he sighs tiredly and looks at a big map of Westeros covering most of one wall. "We lost much in the rebellion and gained very little beyond a tax break and the right to take back the new gift after reaching an agreement with the Night's Watch, which we did. House Sunstark will make good use of it, as will other – lesser – houses I have raised to populate the newly expanded north."
I am struck speechless for a moment, not having known that any house beyond the Sunstarks had been ennobled after the rebellion even if it of course made a lot of sense. Again I am painfully reminded that not having good relations with other nobles could get back to bite one in the ass in more ways than one. I really would have to push my information network more if something big like this completely escaped my attention.
"Incidentally those new houses are your biggest friends currently, being located directly in the path of any wildling raiding party… not that there have been many after you founded Snowfort. And even those that appeared got caught by the expanded Watch in nine cases out of ten… also mostly your doing."
"But them being grateful does not outweigh the hate of others, correct?", I sigh and rub my temples.
"Aye, just so.", he agrees easily. "I cannot afford the North to be disunited in these times."
He hesitates for a long moment before raising and walking to the map, where he stares at the yellowed leather for a long moment. He does not turn around as he starts to speak again.
"Darren, we will be facing a lot of trouble in the coming years and I need to make concessions of some sort to keep a lid on things. The south will come apart at the seams before long – it has gotten bad enough that I have been forced to rebuild the Moat at least a little – and the north needs to be strong… of which you are an integral part. But so are your detractors, leaving me with a dilemma."
"Is king Baratheon doing that badly?", I ask hesitantly, causing my overlord to snort in disdain.
"Robert is many things but a good king he is not.", he admits looking very pained and a little sad at admitting the fact. Again I am reminded of my lacking information base, Lord Stark obviously knowing a lot of things I did not.
"Where does that leave us?"
"In a position where every kingdom looks out for itself first of all. And because of that I need you. I need your reputation in the south, your numbers, your trade, your fleet…. and yes, your contacts to the north."
"But you also need your other bannermen as well.", I nod and lean back, thinking.
"Thankfully the solution has fallen into our lap just recently", smiles Lord Stark slyly and looks straight at me, eyes suddenly hard.
"While I cannot condone that you did not inform me of your expedition before launching it – which I expect not to happen again as I will not be so lenient a second time – I cannot argue with results. Others may try, but hate and envy make for bad advisors."
"It will not happen again.", I state at once, a little intimidated but also knowing that I had not planned anything else that might be as controversial as the contact with the free folk turned out to be. Well, one thing maybe...or two. Some. Okay, a lot. Eddard nods, accepting the promise.
"See that it doesn't. The houses most angered by your actions are those closest to the wall with centuries of history being raided by wildlings and yet you did one of them a great favor as you returned a daughter long thought lost forever to them, putting them into your debt considerably."
"She returned herself.", I interject only for my comment to be waved off.
"Without your actions she would have remained lost.", he counters. "The Umbers know this as well and will greatly support you from this day onward if you do one thing."
"Let me guess", I sigh, seeing the writing on the wall. "I need a new wife and recently one has become available. One that is tainted in the eyes of many but still beloved by her family, who will stand by whoever accepts her."
Lord Stark just smiles at me and I groan, nodding. "When?"
"As soon as Mors had found the opportunity to talk with his daughter and secures her agreement. We have a convenient godswood in walking distance."
I chuckle and shake my head. "My matrimonial status is changing a little faster than I anticipated."
"Your own fault for pushing the matter back as far as you have.", he counters with a shrug, completely unapologetic.
"True enough.", I grunt. "Will this be enough to get me out of the shit I am in and you out of your… dilemma?"
Eddard smirks, an expression that did not really work with his face in my humble opinion. "Oh yes. Winning the Umbers, one of the greatest enemies of the wildlings and one of the most powerful northern houses besides, will cut the legs right under nearly all of those complaining about the venture. Taken together with the support you have in the new gift, by the clans and that of some other houses will calm down. I expect your success will do the rest… or are you planning something else that might be considered controversial?"
I hesitate for a moment before smiling at the man, his eyebrows starting to twitch before I can even open my mouth. "I plan to offer the wildlings that swear to obey northern law the opportunity to move to my lands and settle, countering what many see as too many southern immigrants and too much southern influence."
Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Paramount of the North, just stares at my smiling face for a long moment before groaning. "I am too sober for this shit.", he grumbles before getting down to the business of hammering out an agreement between us that would actually work and not destroy everything that my marriage to be would repair.
In the end I had the agreement of house Stark that I could bring those of the free folk that swore to follow the northern laws and kneel to my lands in small numbers. They would have to stay there and prove themselves to be true to their word and I would be responsible to integrate them well enough that they did not fall back to their raiding ways. Lord Stark of course knew that I could not guarantee that everyone I brought south would obey the law but I would be responsible for tracking down and punishing those that did not. That was something I could live with well enough and be just about what I had intended anyway.
This agreement had cost me my tax break and even increased what I would pay by half for the next few years, which still made me wince even now, hours after the agreement had been reached. I still would have taken the deal even if he had doubled the tax, I mused wryly as I made my way to my rooms. Money was just that, money. I was confident enough in my abilities to know that I could always get more if I put enough effort into it, my 'future' knowledge being what it was. Recently I had pointed Wyndal and his group to using the power of water to ease sawing and smithing, the first prototype buildings rising next to some of my smaller streams not much later. I suspected that it would take years of streamlining the process but that was fine, I had enough time to wait for results. More so as I knew it could work and was not just taking a stab in the dark as many inventions were prone to, oftentimes burning all investments as they failed. While the first iteration might indeed fail as well, I would just continue until they got it right.
After agreeing to the deal Eddard and I had continued to talk for a while in a much less tense atmosphere. The man seemed very tired and I soon found out why. King Robert was struggling to keep his new kingdom together and by now the Lord Paramount of the north had to prepare for the very real possibility that the seven kingdoms would splinter into independent states again. Moat Cailin was in the process of being repaired and extended where it would allow for more than a token defense. While it would not be finished any time soon the fortifications pointing south would already give anyone approaching from that direction a nasty and likely very lethal surprise.
The royal fleet also did not really exist, most ships having remained with the Targaryens even after the end of the rebellion, leaving the northern coasts that had otherwise been under their umbrella very exposed. Eddard Stark was leaning heavily on the Manderlys and my own house to protect the coast as he could not hope to get help anywhere else. Which of course was a big part of the reason I had been able to reach an agreement with the Stark in Winterfell as easily as I had been – he needed me almost as much as I needed him.
Internally the bandits and other brigand groups had been mostly handled with the biggest concentration having been massacred next to my silver mine a year earlier. That my actions had also decreased the usual wildling raids by more than three fourth also lessened the pressure on a lot of lords that had to focus their all in rebuilding after the rebellion. Many struggled with it as winter had hit right in the middle of the process, not all lords having been prepared as well as I had been. Winterfell's larders had almost run dry supplying those nobles and their smallfolk that had miscalculated or were left without a workforce to bring in the last harvest. Next winter would be easier, but for now this left many a lord owning the Starks a lot, which again explained why Eddard was confident that our agreement would be accepted by the north as a whole. He had just too many debts to call in if they did not – not that I expected him to actually ever do so. The man was simply too honorable for his own good sometimes.
With the new gift being back in northern hands lords all over the north had seen some immigration from the south, the promise of lots and lots of empty lands to be had, attracting those down on their luck or made homeless in the war in great numbers. Most of those arriving over the kingsroad did not reach the gift, enterprising lords on the way snatching up the moving by manpower in a hurry to replenish their numbers. Still – some did – the gift was experiencing an explosion of population not seen since...well...ever. Interesting to note was that the majority of the people arriving from the south followed the old gods and told the same story. They had not been driven off their land by war but by religious pressure as followers of the seven pressured them to change their faith and turn from their heathen ways.
To me it seemed that the faith was using the political instability to re-establish the faith militant, some of the converting priests being rumored to be accompanied by robed 'guards' wielding clubs and other simple weapons. Seeing the writing on the wall, many a man, woman and child tracking their ancestry back to the first man had packed up and moved north, creating opportunity and risk for the north in equal measure. After my return home I would also have to keep a closer eye on the faith of the seven in my lands. I had not yet allowed a sept to be built despite the occasional request and looking at the situation this would remain so for the foreseeable future. Fanatics – of either side – was the last thing I could use and I would make an example of the first septon that advocated burning heathens on the stake or something equally lunatic.
King Robert had actually put his foot down and done just that with some zealots close to Kings Landing but his hold on the seven kingdoms was weak, the fires of religious dogma burning again only days after he stamped them out. Before long I suspected that something would give… For now the followers of the old gods were simply moving north but what would be once everyone adhering to the old ways was settled north of the Moat? Was I looking at the start of a new crusade?
Lord Stark had obviously seen the same signs and was working hard to make the north more independent of the other kingdoms if worst came to worst. He of course did not say it out loud or even hinted at it but I could read between the lines well enough. Now more than ever I hoped that the reavers would get off their ass sooner rather than later, giving the seven kingdoms a common cause to rally behind before everything simply imploded without them even having to lift a finger.
Arriving at my assigned room I find Alysanne Umber waiting for me, looking unsure. I pause a moment in the doorway before sighing and moving to a chair on the opposite side of the room.
"You have been told?", I quietly ask while being careful not to let my own feelings show. The thought of marrying hurt with the wound of Jasannas death still being fresh in my mind. Still, I could have found a worse match and felt that I might even learn to love her in time. I already liked her well enough, everything else would just have to grow from that.
"Yes", she stated before laughing tiredly, "Not how I expected the first meeting with my father to go."
"Politics", I agree with a wry smile, "one of the things the free folk do right is not caring for it."
She snorts. "I would not say that. Politics or something like that is still practiced north of the wall. It's just… simpler. Straight forward."
Falling silent we just look at each other for a long moment, not knowing what to say. Finally, after the silence has grown uncomfortable she speaks up again. "I will marry you but I have conditions."
"Name them", I state at once, having expected nothing less.
"My son will not be sent away or treated as lesser because of his father. I will not be bound to the castle as many noblewomen are. I will be allowed to fight alongside you if I so wish.", she rattles off in a hurry, obviously waiting for me to interrupt her.
"Agreed.", I simply state, leaving her gaping at me like a fish, which causes me to chuckle warmly at her.
"What? Did you expect me to fight you over this?", I smile at her.
"Yes", she replies, still surprised.
"Why should I?", I ask before shaking my head. "You ask for little all things considered. If your son proves able I will find a place for him and even if he does not he will not go hungry, so why should I neglect him in any form? More so as I want you to be fair to my own children as well? How could I expect this of you without doing likewise?"
My questions being entirely rhetorical I forged on before she could get in a word edgewise. "My last wife was my equal and opposite, I hope for you to be so as well. I will not restrict your movements or other activities but require you to take a guard or ten along outside the walls, just as I do myself."
Pausing I take a deep breath, the woman across from me still looking a little poleaxed. "That said… if you want to fight at my side… very well. I agree under the stipulation that Harren judges your skills to be adequate. Judging myself would not be fair, considering that I could not help myself being biased."
Looking at Alysanne I smile warmly. "Do we have an agreement?"
She just stares at me for a long moment before smiling and walking up to me. The kiss I find myself surprised by a moment later is full of passion and leaves me nearly steaming beneath my clothes.
"We do.", she breathes before leaving my room, hips swinging.
"By all the old gods and the new", I mutter, shaking my heads. "I have the feeling that I just might have bitten off more than I can chew."
Suddenly grinning I continue the whisper, still talking to an empty room. "Still, there are worse ways to go."
We marry beneath the Weirwood of Winterfell the very next day, solving a lot of problems in a very pleasant way. Returning home a few weeks later with a new wife I find everything to be well in hand and continue to wait for the other shoe to drop.
I am not disappointed as I receive a letter sealed with the sigil of house Blackwood as the year comes to an end, a raven from house Stark arriving on the same day.
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