The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Until Your Dying Day

Lady Rosennis arrived at the council with three of her guards in tow, along with all five of her highborn companions; Perwyn Frey, Lucas Blackwood, Wendel Manderly, Robin Flint and Dacey Mormont, once more dressed as a lady, but with her sword openly swinging at her hip. Brienne of Tarth was not with her, and for that he was grateful. He doubted that some of the men here would be able to refrain from ordering her death on the spot, which would hardly be a good start to their talks.

Loreon watched his friend's mother glance critically along his table at each of the lords and knights he had managed to gather. He let her. There was nothing to be ashamed of with the company he had assembled, salvaged from the splintering of Renly's army. 

Every single Stormlands lord was there, with no exceptions aside from the few who were already with Stannis. And there were several from the Reach, more prominent houses than he'd expected, truth be told. Mullendore, Peake and Varner, Fossoway, Crane, Rowan and Tarly. Not quite half of Mace Tyrell's army, but significantly better than he'd been expecting. For that he could only thank the ingrained snobbishness that fuelled their resentment towards the Tyrells, who were considered upjumped stewards even after three hundred years. 

He couldn't allow himself to get too excited yet, though. I haven't won them yet. They're only here to hear me out, they'll run back to the Tyrells at the first sign of doubt or weakness.

"I invited Lady Bolton and her companions to join us tonight, once more as representatives of the North and Riverlands," Loreon started. No objection from the Stormlords, and most of the Reachmen seemed rather tense and wary about the whole idea of remaining here in the first place, whilst their liege-lords scurried off back to Highgarden. "My lady, sers, feel free to take a seat. Your guardsmen can stand with the others," 

Rosennis sat wordlessly, and the rest followed her example, the Mormont woman at her right hand, fat Wendel Manderly at her left, the other three taking their own places at the offered seats.

"To clear the air," Loreon began. "You were in the tent when Renly died. Would you care to explain to us all exactly what happened in the minutes before his death?" They needed to get this glaring obstacle out the way first. And he would quite like answers to that himself. 

Gods, he hoped she hadn't done it. Or at least had a very good lie to cover it, so he could pretend she was innocent. He could hardly be seen to ally with his uncle's murderers, but they did need the North. Not to mention he didn't particularly wish to face Ren after executing his mother. The woman stared at him for a moment, grey eyes dark.

"There are men here who think that I murdered your king, or ordered his death," Cutting straight to the point as ever, her voice was not particularly loud, but they all listened regardless. "Needless to say, I did not. As I'm sure Ser Robar can attest to, Renly's gorget was cut clean through. Do I look like I could achieve a feat like that? Or my companions? Only Lady Dacey and Ser Perwyn were with me at the time, along with my man-at-arms, Derick," 

She gestured at a rather small and unassuming man stood by the door. Of the four of them, Dacey Mormont was clearly the strongest, but there was no chance that any of them were able to have cut through something that thick. 

"The Tarth girl was there too," Ground out Tarly. "She has no place running about in mail and plate, but she is freakish strong,"

"Not that strong, my lord," Rowan said fairly. "I saw the gorget, and even a big man would struggle to do the job. It would be impossible to do so that cleanly,"

"Then how did this supposed assassin do it?" Lord Florent scoffed. "Was he the size of the Gregor Clegane? In which case, how did we miss him?"

"I saw the blade," Perwyn Frey spoke up. "It parted good steel like cheesecloth,"