Chapter 25: Chapter 20

Notes:

This story has been resumed due to a sudden change in the author's IRL circumstances that led to writing this being both viable and desirable again. Please enjoy :D

Chapter Text

By the time I reached Runestone, the sun was peeking up over the horizon. My head swam from the little sleep I'd gotten, but it was only minutes until Caraxes came over the horizon, giving me something to concentrate on as I attempted to land. In the end, I just let Vermithor do his thing, since he'd clearly grown good at it, and slid myself off his back. A servant quickly grabbed me, and I recalled being walked to a bed and allowed to pass out.

To my right, high in the sky, the sun shone as I woke up. I slowly slid off the bed as my legs woke up, still wrapped tightly in my riding leathers and exceedingly sweaty. As I sat up, a servant quickly came in with a bucket for the wash basin, pouring it in. I swiftly splashed water across my face and wiped it down with a cloth provided by a second servant.

"Luke—" a female voice called. I stopped immediately, recognizing the voice. I turned around and immediately ran, barely sparing a glance at my mother before diving into her arms with a hug. I tried not to think of the possibility of a knife in my back as I received a warm hug back. I felt warm streams come down my face in my happiness. I shouldn't be crying right now… oh, to hell with it, my mother won't judge me for it! I just let everything out. I was home.

——————

It was some time later, after I had been bathed and clothed in something much more comfortable, that I saw Father again. Dressed in a fine tunic, his face clearly spoke of not wanting to be there. A quick look in my eyes made the face recede, however. No one can resist the eyes.

We had all gathered into Mother's solar, finely decorated with a table in the middle. I grabbed a small flagon of wine and filled goblets for the two of them, for which I got nods of thanks.

"Let us do this quickly, I'll not stand being here longer than necessary," Father began. Mother gave a nod of agreement.

"Agreed. As my husband, you'll be guaranteed a generous allowance of money, as well as the consort's chambers for your own use— there is a port town a short ride from here, it should be enough to cater to your wishes," she said, a sickeningly sweet smile upon her face. Father kept his face neutral as best he could as he took a sip of wine.

"And the household I brought with me?" he asked.

"They shall be incorporated into mine own— the Maesters as assistants to my own Maester Elys, Sister Beth returned as Luke's governess, and the rest will find jobs nearby should we have none open," Mother said. "Luke shall also serve as my cupbearer until such time as he becomes a squire. While I shall leave his martial education to be continued by yourself, I ask that you go easy on my Master-at-Arms."

"So long as he remains out of my way, I shall not harm him, you have my word on that," Father said. I had no doubt he was telling the truth— or, at least he believed he was.

The remainder of the meeting was nothing more than hashing out the finer points of what the living situation would look like, including lodging for Caraxes and Vermithor, and Father agreeing to not intrude on Mother's governance of Runestone, despite Vale law being very uncertain about whether or not Father was considered Lord of Runestone.

My first real duties as Mother's cupbearer began only a few days later, standing beside her as she rendered judgement on a man who had murdered another man's brother for cheating at dice. Given a choice between dancing on the gallows and being put on a ship for Eastwatch, he chose the Black Cloak, to my surprise.

Most of the other items were either boundary disputes, arguments on who owned what cows when the herds had been mating with each other due to the farmers' own negligence, or one case where a gentleman argued for permission to disinherit all of his children due to his suspicion that they were actually fathered by his own father on his wife, and not by himself. That one made me want to bash my head against the wall. It was like my essay on Edward Seymour would never leave me behind, even in Westeros.

My lessons in general continued, as I could memorize most of the heraldry across the Vale and Riverlands by this point, and Father continued to teach me skills on dragonback, often using the mountains and oceanside cliffs to teach me how to more finely maneuver.

As the days and weeks went by, the temperature began to drop as the days went by, forcing me to wrap up in what amounted to wool pyjamas alongside modified riding clothes. It didn't feel particularly dignified, but I guess no one would comment while I sat atop a giant bronze dragon.

——-

With lessons taking less and less time each day, I slipped my near-ancient notes out of my room, right where I hid them before the "wedding," and started flipping through pages. I needed something to occupy my time, and maybe playing into the uplift stereotype would give me something fun to do. Eventually, I found a page of something I could work with.

"Units of Measurement that Don't Suck." Huh. Was I really that sarcastic?

Shaking that thought from my head, I placed the piece of paper carefully on the small desk I kept in my room, and pulled a blank piece of paper to begin work with. Following the instructions I left myself, I carefully drew a ruler, and using the picture I left myself as a judge of distance, marking each point until I was left with 10 marks within it.

With my thoughts now firmly focused on this very low-quality ruler I now possessed, I asked one of the guards to escort me to Stoneport, the port town not too far from Runestone itself— named as such because it was founded by a Royce bastard, or because it was named after Runestone itself. No one in town was actually sure which.

It didn't take long to find a carpenter willing to help, with the amount of money we could throw around. Had to hear a crazy Septon screaming about how the apocalypse was near but I could put up with it. After hearing our request, the carpenter set to work, carving a flat piece of wood of the right length, and carefully chiseling out sections along the lines, and with the numbers I wrote on them— even if the man thought they were runes of some kind.

Within about an hour, it was mostly ready, and a short time later, it was handed to me. A nicely waxed ruler that was just long enough to get something workable out of it. Alesander could do the rest without me, now that we had the basics and my notes.

As we walked out, the preaching Septon stared at me, and shouted some words in a language I didn't recognize, but one of my guards putting a hand on his sword shut that up quickly. I still felt the man's eyes burning into me as I walked away, though. Poor crowd has got nothing but Heaven on their minds these days.

——

Approaching the end of the year, my name day finally arrived, as it felt like half the Eastern Vale began flowing in, various lords coming to try and get in with either me or my mother. How many times did someone turn 8, after all? Of course, the largest group was the one led by Lord Redfort, the Lord Protector of the Vale himself, flying the banners of his own house and House Arryn. The most notable exclusion was certainly my cousins of House Royce, along with a few other Houses who hadn't even deigned to respond to the invitation, mostly those who had formerly been aligned with Yorbert.

I was swiftly jolted out of my thoughts by a hand touching my arm, making me jump for a moment, until I saw it was just my mother. The quiet of the godswood soon set in as my mind fell silent.

"Shall we go down and greet the guests, Luke?" she said. I nodded, and followed behind. The Great Hall of Runestone had been prepared for half of the lords of the Vale to show up, and of course they had. Few wanted to be the ones to anger the Lady of Runestone when her husband had finally taken up residence. Oh, and her son having a dragon, can't forget that part.

As I arrived into the Great Hall, my breath was knocked out of me as a blonde girl ran over and hugged me tightly. She released me just as quickly with a polite curtsy to someone of roughly equal rank. Remembering my own lessons, I gave a polite bow back.

"Sorry," she said, "I just always wanted to do that, after the… wedding… but last time I saw you were—" I flinched, remembering the pain of those days, but nodded with a forced smile.

"'Tis alright, my lady," I said, politely as I could. "We all have our fits of emotion." Wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, but she smiled before walking away. The feast itself wasn't anything monumental, but the sheer number of Lords that had shown up meant several were grouped together, talking between the lords, and I was certain at least one new betrothal or marriage was coming out of this tonight.

And maybe some bastards, too. I thought as Ser Mychel Shett, heir to the Gulltown branch, walked off laughing with one of our serving girls. Though, the most shocking part for me was how my parents were actually acting like a functional marriage, offering toasts to each others' health… and Father was keeping his hands off the serving girls, thankfully.

I knew that things wouldn't remain calm forever, and something would have to give eventually. But, for now, I could enjoy this strange reality where I had two actual parents in a semi-functional professional relationship.