"My lord. It's been 6 months since we received word of her disappearance. It is...unlikely that she will return from. Wherever she went." The maester was choosing his words and tone carefully as to not upset or lose the attention of Gendry. " you need an heir my lord. There are many worthy pairs available to you. You are the last Baratheon. It is, time my lord." The maester did his best to be sensitive and honest about the situation. Gendry slowly turned to face the maester. He knew he spoke the truth of things.
" Send a raven to Lord Ashwood at the Dreadfort. Tell him I wish to meet his daughter. No. Wait. Do not tell him that. Tell him instead I wish to meet with him to discuss the Den. It's a castle turned prison. I wish to turn it to a center of trade. I wish to rebuild it as such. Inform him we will arrive after the ceremony. I will have the opportunity to meet his daughter then. But let's not bring expectations. " His voice was soft and sullen.
"As you wish my lord. Though a few notes before I go. First matter is they no longer refer to it as the dreadfort. They felt it to be to harsh a name for a family house. It's known by the name winterwoods. Second. When you meet with Lord Ashwood and his daughter, perhaps not seeming so damn miserable might make your presence more enjoyable. For everyone. " Gendry shot the maester an unamused stare. "Send the raven." The maester bowed his head as he pulled close the door behind him. Gendry stepped to the window to view the ocean as if he were hoping to see her sailing in to port. One last desperate glance.
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"Your grace. Your sister has arrived. Shall I bring her to you?"
"No. I will receive her in the throne room. "
"As it pleases you, your grace. However, why do we still call it the throne room? After all there is no throne, that is accept the one you roll around in. Why don't we call something better, something like the..." Tyrion was cut short by the glare Bran sent him.
"Before we go. Do we know when our master of coin will make himself present? I grow tired of always searching for him. Will he at least make the celebration? The ceremony seems not to be his priority. I'm wondering if he is the right person for the job. "
"In all the years I've known Bronn, he has never missed an opportunity for free wine or gold. Not that we are giving away gold, but he will find some way to hustle some poor souls purse. Probably many poor souls purses. As far as being the right person for the job. The crown owes no debt. That is something I can say I have never seen in my existence. "
"Fine. I will receive my sister now."
"Very well. To the throne room. " Tyrion opened the door so that Bran could roll out of the room and make his way to the throne room.
"Hello brother. "
"Sister. I trust you traveled well."
"I did, thank you. " Sansa had not been to kings landing since her brother had been appointed protector of the realm. She still couldn't get past his cold empty emotionless way.
"Boren, show my sister to her room so that she can get settled after her long travels. The city is yours sister. Anything you need, just ask."
"Thank you Bran. Your hospitality is appreciated."
Sansa spent what was left of the afternoon touring the gardens with her children. She showed them all the southern flowers, herbs, and decorative vines that can't grow in the north.
"WELL WELL WELL. You must be young Ed. My you are such a big boy, how old are you now? 10 maybe?" Tyrion's smile and jubilant demeanor made young Ed smile. They called him young Ed because he looked of his grandfather. He was all stark save the red highlights in his black hair.
"Im six my lord." His soft but firm voice boasted his pride.
"Six you say. Well perhaps its the direction I see you from that makes you look so much older, or perhaps it's all those muscles. " the boy flext his arm with gleeful pride and Tyrion gave him a satisfied look.
"And you. You must be Lyanna. Your beauty my dear is unmatched by any that an eye has seen." Tyrion turned as his words came from his tongue as kissed the little girls hand, making a princess feel like a queen. She looked every bit a Tully save the black hair of the starks. "Now. There are some rules that must never be broken here in the capital. It is very important see. I am hand of the king, don't ever ever call me that. You will call me..."
"Uncle Tyrion " Sansa interrupted. Tyrion smiled and may possibly have even blushed a bit at the honor.
"Uncle Tyrion. 2nd if there is anything you need, you need just ask me. And lastly, but by far the most important of all. If at the end of each meal, and sometimes in between, if you do not have a sweet or two, then I'm going to have to punish the servants." The children cheered joyfully at Tyrion. Sansa gave him a warm welcoming smile. Tyrion gave Sansa a hug. There was no need for formalities between them.
"Aren't you glad now?" Sansa asked a bit playfully
"Glad about what my lady?"
"If you are not to be called hand, I'm not to be called my lady. And glad our marriage wasn't consummated?"
"Well it would seem it worked out fine for both of us. Will your husband be joining us?"
"No. There are matters in the north that need dealing with. Only one of us could be here to see you wed. I wasn't going to miss it." Tyrion walked with Sansa for some time. They enjoyed each others company after all they had endured together. Tyrion's wife would arrive in two days from the twins under the escort of ser Davos Seaworth. He was lord of the twins now. He preferred an ocean view, but at least he had the river. It was his bastard daughter who would marry Tyrion. They had met while the remaining Frey's were being forced out of their ancestral home. Elarra was later legitimized and named heir to the twins.
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She sat tired and alone. She was dirty and unkempt. Her hair in knots and tangled. 6 months had passed since she thought she cast a spell to take her home. The ancient symbols on her wrists had glowed and burned, and yet nothing. No ships had come. No doubt the word had spread of the absence of treasures on the island. The men would have been bitching about how hard they worked and how much they did only to find nothing. No one would bother to come here again. She had no magic abilities that could help her leave. She was truly stranded. Losing hope. She often wondered why she bothered to summon food anymore. Many days as she climbed through the forest and up the mountain she thought of jumping off the cliffs and plummeting to her death. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She had stopped practicing her water dancing. She mostly slept, and ate when she felt like it.
The sun was hot at midday. No clouds to be seen. She sat slumped over in the dirt of the village she had created. The heat was intense and her water had run out. She didn't care to fill it. She thought " Today will be the day that I die." Then a shadow passed over her quickly. By the time she had put forth enough effort to look up, whatever it was had passed. She returned to looking down at the dry dusty dirt. The shadow passed again. This time Arya didn't bother to look. Minutes later she heard the dreadful screech, and seconds after that the winds were pushing against her back as the dust stirred up all around her nearly choking her out. She sprang to her feet turning to face what she new was behind her.