The Last Reyne

Rickard

The great House of the North had began to make its way down to the South to fully establish the union of House Tully and House Stark. The further they went down south, the warmer the wind became exuding discomfort from northerners. It was as if the south aimed to melt the cold of the north. If Rickard had believed completely in omens, he would have never agreed to this arrangement of merging with a southern House, he would have gone back...

"How long till we reach our destination father?" The youngest Stark grumbled, breaking him out of his reverie. "Why do we need to go with Brandon and meet with this southern fish?"

"Benjen!" His only daughter, Lyanna, reprimanded him but despite her stern face, her eyes were clearly full of amusement. "It's rude to use that kind of tone for a noble lady."

"But I feel the winds changing, it's uncomfortable..."

"Spoken like an old man and here I thought you wanted to feel the blood of the wolves in your veins." He said with a soft smile. Although what my son says it true... "I expect that the Maester had already taught you the importance of establishing bonds between great Houses."

Benjen's eyes grew wide which made his sister snicker. "O-of course father! My sincerest apologies..."

"I see I've missed the fun." Brandon stated as he approached them. "Forgive me for the interruption father but I believe we may have stumbled upon an interesting case."

"And how is this so?"

"If you would give me the honor of leading you, he would be with Sir Rodrik right now."

........................................................................................................

Scenarios of bad news played in Rickard's head, after all, his bannermen didn't accept the news of Brandon getting engaged to a southern house. He wouldn't be surprised if one of them would stand in open rebellion to his House... especially the Boltons. Years of animosity between them hadn't been entirely softened by the peace they had shared.

"My lords." His master-at-arms greeted him with a tight smile. Rickard's eyes scanned the men in the perimeter and noted that none were tense and ready to spring for battle.

"The situation isn't fraught, I assume."

"Well... it might be both a blessing and a curse for us." Brandon's eyes locked on the entrance of Rodrik's tent. "It might be best for you both to meet."

The warden of the North's gray eyes met with Rodrik's as his son entered. "Just who is this man that makes such an impact..."

"Not quite a man my lord."

"Not quite?" He queried as he entered the master-at-arms quarters, before his question could be answered, a child sitting dignified in a chair calmly looked at him.

"Father, it seems that the Lannister's missed a kin of the Red Lion." Brandon's eyes sparkled with excitement. "He claims to be the Red Lion's son."

His steely eyes met with the boy's bronze ones. "If you lie boy, you will pay a heavy price. The north remembers everything and we live by a noble code."

Rickard could admire how the boy's eyes never flinched away although his hands shook. "And it is with the belief that the northern men lives honorably that I entrust you with who I am, Lord Stark." His eyes roamed to Rodrik, to Brandon and then back to him.

"I am Tyrence, the last living Reyne of the seat of Castamere." He gulped and dropped to his knee. "On my honor, I plead for your assistance."