WARS TO COME, game of thrones

𝐈𝐗. interlude

𝟐𝟖𝟎 𝐀𝐂

Anrir sat on a chair next to his father, listening attentively to the petitioners who had made the long journey to their castle that morning and were now receiving the verdicts from Jon Arryn. Anrir wore the colors of House Arryn today, as more and more often lately. He left the black and silver of House Riverfall in his wardrobe more often in the mornings. He didn't even know why. But the older he got, the more he seemed to drift away from Riverfall.

The hall gradually emptied and his father asked him for his opinion on the decisions he had made. "You always make fair and good decisions, father," Anrir said sincerely. "What would you have done?" "I don't think the same... But simply because I would not have come up with such solutions," Anrir said and sighed. His father smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders: "Don't worry, I've had a lot of practice. You'll gain experience too." Anrir nodded and smiled slightly in return. His father had grown old, an observation he did not like to make. His hair was getting grayer and grayer and he had lost a tooth in the spring.

Anrir himself was now seventeen years old and had caught up with his father in terms of height. But he was still slimmer, even though he had put on more and more muscle through his sword training and general combat training. His face was also gradually losing its childishness; his cheekbones had become high and sharp and his jaw more angular, even a shadow of a beard adorned his face. He even imagined he could see that his eyes had become less round. Although he was not considered to be an Arryn with his pitchblack hair and eyes, he was now fully accepted as Jon Arryn's son and a promising young knight, even beyond the Vale.

In the spring, his father had made him a knight of House Arryn, one of the best days of his life. His father had also given him a sword; it's name was Beast and it was an old heirloom of House Riverfall, his father had had it brought here especially for him. It was not an exceptionally large sword, but it fit perfectly in his hand. It was made entirely of black metal, with a few simple silver decorations on the hilt that Anrir recognized as the Valyrian motto of his house. Otherwise, the handle was engraved with patterns to make Beast easier to hold. However, these engravings had been made unrecognizable by time.

Although Anrir had more and more tasks and duties in the eyrie and the whole Vale, which actually kept him very busy, he missed having Ned and Rob's company. They were no longer with him  regularly, spending more and more time at home than with Anrir. They were no longer separated only in winter, they were only in the Vale in summer and for a few weeks in fall. They only exchanged letters now and then, and his letters to Ned in particular were not really sincere; he couldn't tell him most of what he really felt for fear that someone else would read them. Besides, Ned wasn't exactly a poet and so Anrir's letters were mainly addressed to Lyanna. They had become real friends last winter. And Anrir didn't think she was really in love with him. It was better that way; Rob was increasingly fascinated by Lyanna, who would soon be fourteen.

Anrir shook his head slightly at the thought. Rob had already brought one bastard girl into the world, and Anrir couldn't seriously imagine that Rob's desire was genuine. But the simple fact was that Rob was incredibly smitten somehow touched Anrir. He wanted his friend to be happy. And yet he hadn't lost confidence that even Rob was willing to change when it came to love.

And he even understood Rob. He would do anything for love, at least he believed that more and more, especially in the days when he and Ned were apart.

Anrir sighed deeply. Wretched love. He missed Ned so incredibly.

"Where are your thoughts?" his father asked him as they walked side by side to the eyries falconry. The falcons were the only thing Anrir couldn't adapt to. For some reason, the birds hated him to the core. Nevertheless, his father kept trying to bring him closer to them. "With Rob and Lyanna," he said truthfully, at least in part, "He'll want to get engaged to her soon." "And you're not a friend of this plan?" his father asked as he put on the thick leather glove, on which one of his tame falcons immediately took a seat and allowed itself to be fed with strips of raw meat. The bird's yellow eyes were fixed on Anrir. "But... Of course, I want Rob to be happy." "Do you want to marry Lyanna?" His father smiled gently at him, but Anrir shook his head in horror and blushed. "What?!" "I'm just asking, Anrir. You're completely obsessed with the Starks and eagerly await every letter. And when you come back from Winterfell in spring, you'll be really unbearable for a few days. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Lyanna is a nice girl, if Robert is to be believed." "I'm not in love... She's my best friend," he said truthfully, but felt uncomfortable. Was he that easy to see through?

"All right," his father said good-naturedly, thankfully closing the subject. Anrir watched him silently with the birds, trying not to think too much about Ned. His father gave him a newly hatched bird, which struggled violently against Anrir's cautious grip, only calming down again when it returned to its nestmates. Anrir grimaced in frustration. "Don't worry. You're Arryn enough, even without the falcon," his father put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "Still... What is it about me that makes them hate me so much?" he sighed. "I don't think they hate you. I think they see you as a danger somehow. Just be quieter around them." Anrir tilted his head doubtfully: "Do you think I look dangerous?" His father scrutinized him, then smiled lovingly and ran a hand through his hair: "More and more every day." Anrir had to smile a little and bowed his head respectfully.

"You look a lot like your parents," his father said, but Anrir interrupted him. "I don't care about that. I'd rather be like you," he said sincerely, "I only look like them, but you raised and educated me. Only my blood connects me to them." His father sighed slightly at this: "You don't have to say that. I know I kept a lot from you by never letting you go to Riverfall. I just wanted to protect you." "I know," Anrir nodded slightly. "Aren't you angry with me anymore?" "I'm just not a child anymore, Father. I know now that even if you had raised me differently, it wouldn't have changed anything about me. Riverfall is lost, I won't be able to rebuild it. What I can do in the Eyrie is more important."

His father leaned against the wall, letting the falcon fly. "I don't like to see you so disillusioned. You were always a fighter, that's why I thought it was a good decision to make you a knight." "I'm still a fighter. Just not for the wrong cause anymore," Anrir said, shrugging his shoulders. He meant what he was saying, wanted to mean it. He was no longer a boy, he had responsibilities and a duty. This included being loyal to only one house, no longer bothering with trifles. He hardly wore the brooch with his family's coat of arms anymore, nor did he wear his family's colors. And yet; in his dreams he was Lord of Riverfall, and in his letters to Lyanna they sometimes imagined together how House Riverfall could return to its former strength.

"That was no falsehood, Anrir. You are still a Riverfall, you should still keep that," his father said sternly, watching the flight of his falcons. "Times are tense... Never lose yourself, promise, Anrir?" "I promise," Anrir replied and frowned slightly, leaning next to him. He thought of the news from Kings Landing, of King Aerys, who ruled with an increasingly brutal hand. The mad king was becoming more manic with each passing year. He wondered if his son and heir, Rhaegar, would be a better king. Early in the year, the prince had married a princess from Dorne. Presumably they would soon have their first offspring. Anrir wondered what he would be like if he had been born into a house like that of the Targaryens. Probably just more arrogant. And he would never have met Ned. Not a nice thought.

"Go read in the library, Anrir. We'll meet again for dinner," his father instructed him and Anrir nodded dutifully. In the library, he withdrew to his and Ned's favorite spot, which was lonely without Ned, but still comfortable. He read for hours, as he often did, immersed in his books. He was no longer so obsessed with the stories of his ancestors, but still, when he stumbled across a history book about the House of Riverfall, he took his time to build up a knowledge of his ancestors. But unfortunately that was a rarity, history didn't remember his house. Perhaps he could change that at least a little if he brought honor to his name as a knight.

He passed the day in the library until dinner and then set off to help the guards at the castle in the sky. Not a glorious task, but he got on well with the men here and undeniably enjoyed joking around and training with them. The eyrie didn't get enough visitors for them to be permanently busy here and so it was one of the most enjoyable jobs Anrir had taken on.

He also liked his berth down here better, it was a narrow cot in a common room. There, the emptiness on the mattress, which he couldn't fill on his own, reminded him painfully of Ned's absence. Here he was alone in bed, but he didn't feel lonely. Besides, he liked the idea of spending his life in a unit like this. Well, not the noblest knights were gathered here, but he loved working and living in such a group.

It was already dark outside and they were sitting together inside Sky, drinking beer and chatting. Anrir listened to the guards tell stories about their families and, for once, hardly missed Rob and Ned. So it didn't bother him that he was occasionally on the receiving end of his companions' jibes and jokes. After all, he was quick-witted enough to defend his honor.

Soon it would get colder again and he would ride to Winterfell, where he would see Lyanna and, above all, Ned again. It had been a good year and he had a feeling it would end the same way. Times might change, but certainly not for the worst. Anrir leaned back and took a deep swig of his ale, enjoying the warmth in his chest. Soon he would be back with Ned.