cp15

Chapter 14

I repressed an urge to sigh as I turned the corner and saw Roose Bolton waiting for me, his lackey Rodrik Ryswell trailing behind him. Ever since Arya's surprise appearance, I had begun to find myself cornered by random lords at every turn. Bolton and Frey were the worst of the lot.

"Lord Bolton." I forced a polite smile on my face.

"Lord Edmure." Faux surprise colored his whisper. "I had not expected to find you here."

Ryswell grunted. "But a pleasant coincidence, we were looking for you."

"Shocking." I half muttered under my breath.

Bronn must have heard me, as he let out a snort of laughter. As my constant shadow, he'd been forced to put up with listening to all the maneuvering from the lords.

Bolton turned his gaze on the sellsword, while Lord Ryswell sent him a nasty sneer. "Something amuses you, Sellsword?"

I put a quelling hand in front of Bronn before he could make a predictable cutting statement, and resisted the urge to sigh again. "Lord Bolton, you said you were looking for me?"

For a long, unnerving moment, the man continued to observe Bronn with pale eyes. Finally, Bolton shifted his attention back towards me. "You give your underlings too much leeway, Lord Edmure. When their sort forget their place… it will only lead to strife. Sometimes, a sharp lesson is needed."

Bronn's eyes glinted at that, but I kept a mild expression on my face. "Your advice is appreciated Lord Bolton. But I'm sure you did not come here to talk of such things."

"The Princess." He murmured. "Arya Stark."

I kept the pleasant, empty, smile on my face. "She does well, she has had a harrowing journey but she recovers quickly."

"She would recover quicker with her own!" Rodrik Ryswell burst in angrily. "She belongs with the North!"

I resisted the urge to smirk at his angry outburst. There was something satisfying about winding the angry northerner up. Instead I kept that pleasant expression on my face. "She belongs with her family, my lord. Which is where she is."

Bolton spoke up in his whisper, forcing us all to lean in to make out his words. "Of course. I agree. The princess should be with family. She should be reunited with her brothers in Winterfell. We have the forces to escort her safely home."

I gave the man a level look as I shook my head. No way in hell I was turning Arya over to him to 'escort' back to Winterfell. I had the sneaking suspicion that once Arya was in his hands, he would find some justification to keep her there. And at worst, that 'escort' would be another word for 'hostage' if things went even slightly south for Robb or myself. So no, I had no intention of handing Arya over to him. And the man knew that. But still we did this dance every day.

"Indeed, Arya wishes to return home." I plastered another diplomatic smile on my face. "But the North is far and the road dangerous. Lannisters in the Riverlands, Ironborn raiding in the north. No, the journey is just too perilous."

Bolton's answering smile showed teeth as he leaned in. "Indeed, Lord Edmure. But the situation has changed."

Despite myself, I found myself taking a half step back as the man got into my personal space. "Changed?"

"We've had news from the North. The Ironfleet sailed up the Fever River in strength, and attempted to size Moat Cailin. As you warned…" Bolton trailed off at that, eyeing me oddly. No doubt wondering how I had predicted such a move.

I leaned forward at that, shoulders tensing. "And?"

Bolton continued in his whisper. "A great victory. Leobold Tallhart and the forces King Robb had gathered met the Ironborn in battle, and saw them off. Howland Reed is harassing them all the way back to the sunset sea. Between the battle and the marsh, they will be bled dry."

Bronn let out a low whistle and Ryswell sent us a fierce grin, for once not seeming to mind the sellsword. "They don't have the manpower to recover from that either! They won't dare to make another try."

Bolton gave a small shrug. "We were lucky. If our host had been any smaller, they like as not would have seized the moat. And then the situation would have been dire." That faint smile came back. "But events turn in King Robb's favour."

I nodded, tension leaving my shoulders. "Indeed. As you say, a great victory."

The Ironborn threat likely wasn't entirely gone, and there was still the danger to Winterfell. But this alone meant the strategic situation was much improved for Robb.

Bolton had an intense look in his eyes as he pressed me. "So you must agree Lord Edmure, that this changes the strategic situation dramatically."

I eyed him warily. It wasn't like Bolton to belabour such an obvious point. "It does indeed. Our own position is much more secure."

A small victorious smile crossed his lips. "As you say. And so, with the Ironborn defeated, we can surely now see Princess Arya safely returned to the North."

"Where she belongs!" Lord Ryswell rumbled in agreement.

So that was Bolton's game. I gave the man a level look. "I'm not sure what one has to do with the other, my lords."

Bolton made to speak, but I took advantage of his damned whisper to keep on talking as though I had not heard him. "The Ironfleet may have been defeated, but the dangers of such a long road remain. The Ironborn are still raiding up and down the coast, and last we heard both Deepwood Motte and Torhen Square were under siege. And that's not even counting the Lannisters." I gave a firm head shake. "No, it is still far too dangerous."

Ryswell was getting red in the face again, and his hand even drifted towards his sword pommel. "By what right do you keep our Princess form us? By what Right!"

It was times like this I valued Bronn at my back. The Northerner might have been intimidating in another setting, but with the sellsword behind me, I didn't have any particular worry of this turning violent. Even in Westeros.

Instead, I sent the man a mild look I knew would infuriate him even more. "By what right? As her uncle, Lord Ryswell, it is my duty to look after her. And to see her safely returned to her mother and brother."

Ryswell's scowl deepened. "I know your Southron ways! You mean to see her wed to that Frey Bastard. To keep her for yourself"

And that was the heart of it. The Northerners were very aware of the Frey attempts to have Arya put in their custody. Just as the Freys were of the Northern attempts to return her to Winterfell. It had exasperated the tension between the two halves of my Army. And it likely didn't help that the Northerners all assumed I was naturally on the side of the Freys.

Lord Bolton put a quelling hand on his counterparts arm. "Now, now, Lord Ryswell. I'm sure Lord Edmure intends nothing of the sort. He is of Southron blood, yes. But still, I'm sure he knows that a Stark belongs in the North. We can trust him to do right by us… can't we Lord Edmure?"

I smiled sweetly back. "Indeed, Lord Bolton. Always."

He slowly nodded his head. "You raise valid concerns, of course. But I am sure they will all be resolved shortly. King Robb will deal with our Lannister problem. And as for the Ironborn, they are finished. Even if they know it not. His Grace's Castellan is raising another host to see what is left of them off. My own son." He paused, and then corrected himself. "My bastard. Is marching with a strong host to help."

I resisted the urge to grimace. I doubted anything good was going to come from Ramsay getting involved in things. "Ramsay?"

Bolton raised an eyebrow, no doubt surprised I knew the name. "Indeed. Ramsay Snow." He gave an elaborate shrug. "A bastard. But perhaps he will show himself of some worth to his Grace."

I grunted. "Indeed." Not like there was much I could do to stop whatever mischief the Boltons might cause up North. I had my hands full as it was.

Bolton cocked his head. "You will consider letting Princess Arya return to her home then?"

I smiled blandly as I gave him another not-answer. "We will have to see what events bring. And no doubt her Mother will have her own thoughts on the matter. But we all wish to see my niece back north."

"Indeed." Bolton echoed me. "But do keep in mind what I have said..."

Ryswell let out a low grumble. "Southron mush and empty words."

I pointedly ignored the man. Hell, he wasn't even wrong. I was basically mouthing polite nothings while refusing to turn Arya over to them. And I intended to keep on doing that until Robb or Cat came and took custody of her.

"If there's nothing else then?" I gave both lords a level look. When they remained silent, well other than a few grumbles under his breath from Ryswell, I gave them a nod. "I shall see you both at the next council meeting."

—

Bronn, to his credit, waited until we had turned a few corners before speaking up. "That one doesn't strike me as the sort to simply accept a no."

I grunted. "He'll have to."

Bronn let out a small smirk. "Not that I mind you winding that asshole up, but you'll need to watch your back with his sort."

I quirked my lips up. "And that's why I pay you for, is it not?"

Bronn looked like he was about to make some amusing response, but I cut him off with a quickly raised hand. It looked like my other daily visitors were making an appearance.

"Lord Stevron." I gave the man a genuine smile. I liked he old dude. "Elmar. Lord Walder." The smile was more wooden as I greeted Black Walder. The man was an ass.

"Tully." Black Walder growled. "We were looking for you."

Bronn let out a small smirk as Frey unconciosuly echoed the Northmen.

I resisted the urge to sigh. "And you've found me, of course."

Stevron gave one of his weaselly smiles, but he was at least diplomatic about it. "I was just telling young Elmar that we should arrange some time for him to visit Lady Arya."

Black Walder was more blunt. "Fuck meeting. There should be a wedding. She is promised to us."

I gave the man my flattest look. "She is a girl of ten."

Walder seemed unconcerned. "The bedding can wait if you insist. But they can say their vows."

Stevron cut in with a raised arm to halt his grandson's words. "Perhaps a formal betrothal ceremony, to formalize what was agreed upon?"

I eyed Black Walder for one more moment before focusing back on Stevron. "Perhaps, but that will be for her mother and brother to determine."

Black Walder let out a low growl. "Are you implying we're not worthy? Are you going back on your word?"

"My word?" I sent the man an irritated glare. I was starting to see where he got his name from. "Your deal was between yourself and the Starks, it has nothing to do with House Tully."

"It does if you mean to thwart it! She is promised to us. You're saying Elmar isn't worth a princess?" Black Walder shoved the embarrassed looking boy towards me. I vaguely recalled the rumors that Elmar was actually Black Walder's son, not Lord Frey's, and wondered if that had anything to do with his aggression on the matter.

I inclined my own head to Elmar as the boy looked down at his feet, clearly wishing to be anywhere but here. "A pleasure to meet you Elmar."

"My Lord." He mumbled to his shoes.

My eyes focused back on Black Walder. "He is a fine lad. A credit to his father. I've no doubt he will make a splendid husband for my niece. But I am not marrying…" a glance to Stevron "or holding a formal betrothal, for a ten year old girl. More to the point, that wasn't what was promised either as I recall."

Stevron cleared his throat. "His Grace promised her hand to Elmar."

I nodded. "When she had flowered. Not before."

Black Walder growled at that, but Stevron continued in a musing tone. "Lord Edmure, surely you see a match between ourselves and House Stark is to the mutual benefit of all the Riverlands. We need Northern support. And if you do not mean to swear to King Robb, we need all the ties we can to bind him to our cause."

I gave him an ironic side-glance. Partly that was based on my future knowledge, since if events turned out in the books it was far more likely Robb's promises were going to cause a rather large divide between us. Partly at the rather obvious attempted manipulation. "I rather think my own family relation to Robb… and the fact that the Lannisters murdered his father… will do far more to bind him to our cause."

"Mayhaps." Stevron ran a thin hand over his face. "Mayhaps. But surely the more ties between House Stark and the Riverlands the better? And what of once the Lannisters are defeated? You say you do not mean for us to swear to Stannis or Renly. But will the Starks back us against the Baratheons as they have against King Joffrey?"

I sighed. The man wasn't wrong, I didn't want to get ahead of myself with the Lannisters still in the field. But I had that worry too. "I'm not opposed to the match, Lord Stevron. In fact, I agree with you. You have my full support. I can think of no more loyal house to marry my niece." A blatant lie, but hey.

Black Walder made to open his mouth at that, but I continued right on over him. A note of finality entering my voice. "But I am not Arya Stark's parent. Or her guardian. And your promise was not to me, but to her mother and brother. I will of course support you when the time comes, but if you wish to rush your agreed upon wedding you must take it up with his Grace, not myself."

Black Walder looked fit to burst, but Stevron remained calm. "Of course, Lord Edmure. Your support for the match is much appreciated. And I'm sure in that case you would support Elmar regularly meeting Princess Arya and spending time with her? If they are to be wed, it is only fitting they get to know each other now. And as you said, it is only to the benefit of the Riverlands."

I sent the man an amused look. I had the distinct feeling that this is what he had wanted from the beginning. With Black Walder playing, perhaps unknowingly, the bad cop to his good. Still, he'd backed me into something of a corner. And its not like I really minded the two spending time together.

"A fair argument, Lord Stevron." Black Walder seemed taken aback at my easy agreement, but Stevron only gave me that small weaselly smile as I continued. "We will arrange something. I'm sure Princess Arya will appreciate the company of young Elmar."

Elmar turned a bit red-faced at that, and mumbled something under his breath about princesses. Truth be told, I suspected Arya would eat him alive.

Stevron let his smile widen, and nodded his head. "Indeed. Thank you Lord Edmure." Black Walder let out a low growl, but the old man talked right over his grandson. "Your continued support for this union is most appreciated."

Which wasn't exactly what I had said, but I let it pass. Despite my preconceived notion of the Freys, I couldn't help but feel somewhat fond of Old Stevron. Instead, I let my own smile match his. "Of course. House Tully will always support its bannermen. Just like I know I can always count on your own support. On the battlefield… and in our councils."

I let the last dangle for a bit. Black Walder clearly had no idea what I was implying, but the amusement in Stevron's eyes said he picked up on my implication. "Indeed, Lord Edmure. You can of course count on us."

—

Perforce, my next stop of the day had to be Arya. Something I was not particularly looking forward to. She had been one of my favorite characters in the books, but dealing with her in reality? Headache inducing.

A feeling only reinforced when I entered the suite of rooms given over to her. It looked as though a hurricane had blown through them. Knocked over furniture, clothes and gowns torn and thrown everywhere, and just a general mess.

A moment later the grumpy looking Hurricane Arya stormed into the room, a stressed out looking Septa trailing behind her.

"Lord Edmure." The septa gave a curtsy, but her charge only scowled at me.

"Septa. Thank you for your… dedication." Truth be told it looked like the Septa had been waging a war with Arya. And losing. "If I could have a moment with my niece?"

The septa murmured agreement, and after another curtsy went to join Bronn outside.

Once it was just the two of us, I stared down awkwardly at Arya, not sure how to start this conversation. I wasn't the best with children normally, and especially not half-feral ones in torn up dresses.

"Arya. Niece. It's good to see you." What to do? Well, I was her uncle, and supposed to give some fond gestures? I rested a hand gently on her head. "Are you wanting for anything?"

Arya scowled again, and shook the hand off her head. "I want to see Gendry. And Hot Pie. And the rest."

I sighed. That had been a constant refrain. "They've already left Arya. Yoren was charged in taking them to the wall."

"I could have gone with them."

Despite myself, a hint of amusement entered my voice. "To join the Night's Watch?"

She growled. "I could have gone with them to see Jon. Or mother. Or Robb."

I sighed. I had considered trying to keep Gendry or Jaquen or some of the others at Harrenhall. But really, I'd no justification to stop Yoren or take his recruits from him. And I certainly wasn't going to trust Arya to their escort. Not when the whole world likely knew by now that she had been traveling with the old crow.

"I've already written to your mother and brother, they know you're here.

That didn't seem to satisfy Arya at all. "When will I see them?"

"Soon, I'm sure."

She started gnawing on her lip at that. The silence stretched for a long moment until she seemed to muster up her courage. "What if… what if they don't want to come get me."

I blinked at that. "Of course they want you."

She didn't say anything, just glancing down at the torn dress and the chaos in the room. Despite myself, I smirked slightly. "Arya. Of course they want you. Your brother couldn't stop talking of you and worrying when I saw him last." She straightened up at that, so I pressed on. "And your mother has often written of her concern." The second was technically a lie, but it seemed to perk Arya up.

"When will I see them?" She repeated.

"Soon, I'm sure. By now they likely have received the raven I sent. I'm sure if nothing else your mother will be riding with an escort here as soon as she can." Given what I remembered of Catelyn from the books, she'd probably march out the very night the raven reached Riverrun.

Now, how to broach the main reason I was here? I glanced around the room, hesitating before launching in. "In the meantime Arya… I need your help here."

She eyed me warily. "Uncle Edmure?"

"Look. I appreciate you don't have much patience for all this…" I gestured vaguely at the dresses and finery in the room. "But appearances matter. And at some point Robb's Bannermen… and my own… are going to need to see you."

Her face took on a mulish cast. "I don't want to see them. I want Gendry and Hot Pie and Robb and Jon. Not stupid dresses."

I couldn't help but grin at such an Arya statement. "And that sword too, I imagine?"

She scowled fiercely. "Needle."

I sighed, how to word this? "Arya. Do you remember what your father said? The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives?"

Her eyes widened almost comically. I felt slightly bad guilting her with her dead father, but still. I hard her attention. "How do you know that?"

Ahh. How did I know that? "Ahh. Well. I am your uncle, Arya. You think I never talked to your father before? He often shared that sentiment with family."

Her eyes narrowed as she continued to study me. I got the distinct impression that this was the first time it was actually truly sinking in to her that we were family. She knew it intellectually of course, but that was different from truly feeling it.

Slowly she nodded her head. "Alright, Uncle Edmure." Her face took on a determined cast. "I can do it. I can be like Sansa."

I waved a dismissive hand at that. "I don't need you to be like your sister. Just be yourself." I smirked. "But in a dress."

She nodded at that. So I pressed on. "Another thing. Elmar Frey is going to be coming by for a visit. I need you to humor him."

Her narrowed eyes told me she had somehow learned exactly who that was. "He's stupid… I'm not marrying him."

"I don't care if you marry him."

Her eyes widened at my blunt statement. That was clearly not what she had been expecting. "You… you don't care?"

"Look. Arya." I ran a hand through my hair, well aware that this was a ten year old kid. Best be to the point. "I honestly do not. If you marry him it won't be for many years. And that will be between you and your mother and your brother."

She was still regarding me suspiciously. "Then why does he need to come visit me?"

"Because we're at war Arya." Yes, it definitely seemed like being blunt was the best way to go here. "Your brother promised you to the Freys as part of the bargain for them letting him cross the river and come south."

I raised my hand to forestall her protests. "I know. I'm not saying it was wise or fair. But it's done. And while we're at war, we need to keep the Freys happy. You don't have to marry the boy now, but we do have to humor them."

She got that mulish look again. "They're your bannermen. They have to do what you tell them."

I smirked. "If only it were that simple. You're no child Arya, you've seen a lot."

I said it as a statement, but she nodded her head anyway.

I took that as my cue to press on. "Exactly. They may be sworn to me. But if they think we are reneging on a deal, there is no telling what they might do. And we just can't afford that right now. No more than I can afford the northern lords upset that I'm not handing you over to them. You need to to show the northerners you are happy and pleased to be here. You need to let the Freys think this marriage will happen. We need to hold things together while the war is going on. After that? Things may be different."

Was I being too blunt with her? She seemed a bit uncertain. "Isn't that lying? Dishonorable?"

I gave my head a shake. Hopefully I wasn't corrupting a minor too badly. "No. I'm not asking you to lie. I'm asking you to spend time with Elmar Frey. And some of your father's bannermen. Let them see what they want and leave it at that."

She gnawed on her lip for a long moment. "It will help?" At my nod she pressed on. "Alright."

I breathed out a relieved sigh. "And its only for a little while. We'll be leaving soon enough, and your mother will be here as well."

She nodded again, before frowning down at the dress. "I'll have to wear the dress too?"

I grinned at that and kneeled down so we were eye level. "How's this. Lets make a bargain, you and I."

She eyed me warily. "A bargain?"

"You put up with Elmar Frey. Just for now while he is here. You wear the dress to meet your father's bannermen. In return, I'll speak with that Septa. When you're not with the bannermen or Frey… you wear what you want. And I'll even see about arranging for some lessons with that sword of yours."

"Needle." She seemed intrigued by my offer. "I was trying to practice. But…" she trailed off, uncertainly.

I grinned at her. "You've got your duties, yes. But that doesn't mean we can't also work things out so you get what you want too." I stuck my hand out to the girl. "What do you say, do we have a deal?"

She took my hand with a bit of confusion. I'd forgotten that hand-shaking wasn't really a thing among Westeros nobility.

"Alright Uncle Edmure." She hesitated for another long moment. "I'm glad Yoren brought me to you."

I reached down and ruffled her hair fondly. This time, she didn't push my hand away.

A/N: Well there we go folks. Something of a transition chapter, but good to finally have it out. Sorry for the delay on things, life got crazy. Good news, is the next two chapters are already written minus some editing and should be posted in short succession! And next chapter will complete this mini Harrenhall arc.

Also, thanks for those of you who checked in regularly via reviews and PMs and posts. Honestly, seeing so many people interested in the story helped refocus me on writing.