The Stag and the Wolf

The Eyrie, 19th day of the Seventh Moon, 274 AC.

"Jon of House Arryn, Lord Paramount of the Vale, Warden of the East." The servant heralded the Lord of the Vale. Jon Arryn was waiting by the gates of Eyrie.

Torrhen and Ned shared a look before hopping down the horse, giving the yield to the stable boys. Sharing once again an uncomfortable look, they finally said, "It's an honor to be your ward, Lord Arryn."

"You must be tired from your ride. We have prepared your rooms for a bath. Then, you have supper later." Lord Aryyn nodded, looking with his bleached hair, sky-blue eyes. Though, salt-white hair crept at the stem of his hairs, evidently, the age has been catching up.

"We are grateful, Lord Arryn." Ned spoke up.

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Walking at the halls of Eyrie, looking magnificent as they had first sat their eyes on it, Torrhen felt ancient magic at the walls and roofs. This obvious magic presence gave proof on Bran the Builder's magic. Fascinating... and a little excitement that Torrhen felt filled his chest. The source of magic presence in this world he currently found, can be counted with one hand.

The weirwood trees with faces, the Heart Tree of the Old gods, was the one of them. 

Then, a larger presence up north, probably restrained by the nullifying magic of the Wall. If it is also true, then the Wall cannot be keeping the Wildings north of the Wall, something... or someone else must be barred up north.

Finally, the Eyrie, ancient magic everywhere in the castle. Interesting enough that this magic has stayed through the test of time. Then, the other castle built by Bran the Builder should also have magic in them. Torrhen has to find the Children of the forest to learn their tongue. Maybe, add with the long-lost magic of Old Valyria. Valyrian are said their magic was unparalleled, as was their architectural knowledge, explains the roads and dragon towers.

Distracted, Torrhen did not hear Ned's question. "Can you repeat what you said, Ned? I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention, staring at this glorious place."Well, it was somewhat true.

"I said, the heir of Storm's End is in the Training Yard. The servants said he was a fighter, bashing his small war hammer in the Yard." Ned patiently repeated.

"'Ours is the Fury. All Baratheons are hard-headed and reckless. Easily tempered and very impulsive, most of the time." Torrhen nodded. 

He continued, "Do we greet the Baratheon?"

"Perhaps, we will meet, nonetheless." Ned said, nodding at the Yard.

Changing turn, we heard grunts and good bashing of armor as we go on. Clearly, the Baratheon is adept at his war hammer, even small for his small stature. Surely, they would be big and hulky at their prime.

What we saw strange. This boy of ten name days or so, was slow, clearly having a bad time swinging his hammer. But I guess that was training is for. We expected he was bashing someone. Still, the look on his face said that he was having a great time learning, so that's a plus.

The boy noticed us, "A new challenger?"

"Surely, you'll have a hard time challenging a babe?" Torrhen couldn't stop his jape. He quickly shut up.

The boy stopped, eyes narrowing at Torrhen, looking up and down to his stature, before laughing loudly. "Aye, anyone can see myself having a hard time. Swords do not interest me, unfortunately."

Torrhen was relieved, hoping earlier he did not offend an heir of a great house. As impulsive he looks, he does not take offense on words. An easygoing person, a little charismatic.

"So you're the heir of Storm's End, my Lord?" Trying to strike up the conversation, Torrhen asked, very presumptous to be admitted.

"Aye, never dreamt of ruling, though." A heaty laugh got out of the heir. He continued, "Robert Baratheon." He held out his hand.

Torrhen accepted and shook the gesture, "Torrhen Karstark. Just Torrhen will be fine." 

Then Robert turned to Ned, which the latter said, "Eddard Stark. Ned will do."

"Then Robert will also be fine, my new friends. Come, let us fill our stomachs with supper."

They turned to the halls of Eyrie. Both Northmen were stiff. He walks and talks like he owns the place.

Torrhen turned to Ned, the former whispered, "Lord Arryn said that we bathe first before supper. What should we do?"

"I do not know. Perhaps, we should follow the Lord of the Vale as we are his to-be-wards. Especially, it's his home." Ned replied, muttering quietly.

"Alright, then." Torrhen nodded, he turned to Robert. "Robert, we were asked to settle our business first in our room. Forgive us. We'll be with you at the supper later."

"It is alright. You'll join me later."

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"'As high as honor', what are you thoughts about." Jon Arryn said. Cutting a meat, he looked around the table with him, his soon-to-be wards.

Torrhen was contemplating, Ned was quiet, but clearly also in thoughts. But Robert, he sighed, he looked uninterested, probably thinking about fighting and fighting that it rambles his young mind.

Torrhen was thinking, yes, he knew the words and its meaning or origins, but he didn't know what he thought about it.

However, Ned replied first to Jon, "It is House Arryn's words."He looked stiff and uncomfortable before looking at Jon, "Forgive me, my Lord, what does make a man high as honor? The Knights of the Vale are proud to say they are honorable like it's in their blood, but they're arrogant, almost seeping in their bones."

Torrhen smiled and he continued, "Aye, Ned's right. Forgive me as well, my Lord, but the people of the Vale are proud people. Honor is an action, not words to say their justification. They talk their walks. Not like the Starks, who do it in their action, or because it was in their words."

Lord Arryn was silent, eyeing both Northmen in at the table. Moments later, he smiled, "It is as you both said. I forgive nothing for the truth you have said."

He continued, "Aye, and that is what the foundation of this fostering. I hope I will do the job right."