Dynasty Of The Dragons

The Blackfish

Taking a deep breath, there was nothing better than being back home in the Riverlands. War may have been over for months, but being in Kings Landing was barely a reprieve from fighting across half the Seven Kingdoms. But now, finally, Brynden was away from that foul stinking city where it felt impossible to breath or get a minutes rest.

It was joyous to be back in the Riverlands. Green fields for miles around, row upon row of trees with birds singing their sweet songs. Though this was often disturbed by the sounds of the marching army behind him.

Some thirty thousand men or so. Given that the Vale men that had departed Kings Landing with them had left them days ago to head for the Eyrie, minus their Lord who had remained in Kings Landing to serve as Hand of the King.

How that had rankled Hoster, Brynden smirked. He did not know the full plan, but he knew enough. How Hoster had joined Jon Arryn and Rickard Stark's plan to band together to overthrow the now aptly named Mad King Aerys.

And how things have changed since then. Rickard Stark was dead, his heir too. Not that Brynden knew him well, but in the short time he had known Brandon, he hadn't been impressed. That's something good about Eddard, or Ned, he doesnt seem the type 

So Brynden was somewhat happy with Cat's marriage. Lysa's on the other hand, he was furious. First Hoster forced Lysa to drink damn tansy tea, that Brynden knew was because of her relationship with Petyr Baelish. But worse still, he soon forced poor Lysa to wed a man older than Brynden, older than Hoster himself.

Not that there was anything wrong with Jon Arryn. He seemed a good man, well known for his honour. But he was an old man who had no children of his own despite how long he had lived and several wives. So what kind of life was Hoster sending Lysa to? A marriage with a man over thrice her age and who seemed unlikely to give her the joy of children that Brynden knew Lysa desired.

Brynden had been furious with Hoster for that. He had damn dear drawn his sword and duelled him right there. Hoster forgets, family comes first. We're Tully's not Lannister's, Tyrell's or Martell's. His ambition is more in line with the likes of them. No doubt he would boast privately about how his daughters were Lady of Winterfell and The Eyrie, at the expense of half their bannerman.

Hoster may have rubbished Brynden's concerns, saying how they now had powerful allies in Winterfell and The Eyrie. But they were far away, and Darry, Maidenpool and Harrenhall are far closer to Riverrun. But, no matter how he protested, his brother did not listen, as usual.

A sudden raucous laugh comes from his side. Brynden looks to see Great Jon Umber laughing with a crowd of north men with his hand clasping Ned Stark's shoulder. He cracked a wry smile, Brynden had found the Northerner's more hospitable than southerners in many cases. For their were fewer arrogant pompous gits in the North it seemed.

As they kept riding, they soom came upon a hill and crested over it. In the distance, Riverrun was just about visible in the distance. The towers standing tall and strong from the sandstone walls.

"It's good to be home again isn't it brother?" Brynden turns to see his brother riding up to him and looking into the distance.

"Aye. Much better than Kings Landing."

"Ha. That doesn't take much to beat."

Brynden looked over to his elder brother.

"Hoster? How do you plan on finding Lyanna Stark's letter? It could be anywhere now."

"Brother there is no letter." Hoster firmly replied.

"But the Queen and King said-"

"Nothing but lies. The girl is nothing but a fool who is responsible for the deaths of half her family and thousands of others. The King wanted some newer, prettier woman in his bed, and like the girl caused thousands to die. There is no letter. Saying there is a letter is just a way for them to cover up their foolishness to the idiots that believe them like Darry."