The Emancipation of Rhaegar

Chapter 20

Twenty

Nightfall in Riverrun and the castle was far from quiet. Hoster had pushed for supplies to be removed from their winter stock and preparation were underway for his first daughter's wedding. He knew that circumstances prevented him from showing his happiness outwardly, but he was proud of the match he had made. Having seen Brandon, the way he treated his daughter and the respect he held for his father, Hoster's heart was put to ease almost instantly.

A torch was lit on the castle walls, attracting the attention of Hoster who had been standing in front of the great hall doors and watching the servants work.

"Milord! It's Lady Whent and her daughter," Byron, one of his best guards yelled.

"Byron don't you dare open those gates to them," Hoster yelled back, feeling his heart speed up and clench his chest. Shella had caused him enough trouble already with her mentions of family and blood. Nor could he accept her into his home while the very angry Starks resided in it.

Byron turned back around, facing the front of the castle and waving his torch to Shella and Merida. Hoster heard faint shouts of disagreement from the other side and screams from either mother or daughter.

ALways one for dramatics.

"Lord Tully, is everything alright?" Brandon asked rushing down from his room, robe tightly fastened around his waist and sword in hand.

It seemed Rickard had heard the screams as well for he was standing next to Hoster in the blink of an eye. "Put that godforsaken thing away, you idiot!" He grunted at Brandon. Still hostile.

Hoster scoffed and shook his head. "You wouldn't mind if I brought in Shella and Merida Whent would you? It's my obligation as their good family. Besides, I couldn't turn away a widow."

Brandon scoffed. "Of course it's not okay, what in the seven would you want them in here for? They tried to kill us al-"

"And now you have forgotten your faith as well as your respect for those of higher rank. Do what you think is best Hoster, this is after all your home. We can't tell you otherwise," Rickard said interrupting Brandon and probably preventing him from spitting out angry insults.

Hoster nodded his head and began striding to the gates. "Open the gates, let's see what they have to say this time."

The gates of Riverrun were opened, the ditch that had been filled with water and now been covered in mud, allowing Shella and Merida easy access into the castle.

The two seemed distraught, Shella holding the reigns of an agitated horse and Merida clinging tightly to the saddles. From what Brandon could remember, they hadn't changed from their clothes from the last joust. Something unusual for both mother and daughter as during the Tourney they took the habit of changing according to meal time. Merida was helped from the horse and clung to her mothers arm tightly.

"Lord Tully, thank you for your h-hospitality," Shella stuttered looking down at her feet.

"Shella, we know each other better than that," Hoster grimaced. "We'll talk in the morning. I'm sure we can find you each a room."

Shella shook her head. "We'd be better to share."

Hoster nodded his head. "Of course." He led Shella to the handmaiden's rooms to be escorted to their room. Before she left, however, he whispered, "your boys?"

Shella shook her head, her eyes welling as she did so. "It was the Frey's. Walter refused Merida's hand and they threatened us, so he agreed. We...well I was hoping for Prince Oberyn Martell but Walter would hear none of it. Everyone thinks it was us, and I don't know what will happen to my family now Hoster. My sons, they have all vanished, or we have not been told the truth of their whereabouts. Now my pure Merida must live with the thought of the man she loved slaughtering her father. You must believe Hoster, we had nothing against the Martell's or their Dornish allies. Or e-even the King. Walter loved him as a brother I know it. It wasn't our fault-"