Chapter Forty: Bystander

The largest men in the Seven Kingdoms came from House Clegane. The largest women came from House Mormont. Wed one to the other, and the product of their union would likely be taller than either. In theory, at least.

Rickard Clegane, the son of Lord Gregor and Lady Dacey, weighed seventeen pounds when he entered the world. No newborn babe in Westerosi history had ever weighed that much. Nevertheless, he had grown at a slightly smaller rate than one may have expected.

His father had been six feet tall at the age of eleven. Rickard had recently seen his twelfth nameday, yet he stood two inches' shy of six feet. Even so, he was bigger than all of his friends, even the ones who had a few years on him. Maester Kennick claimed it was quite possible that he might ultimately rise higher than even the Mountain himself. But I've a way to go before I'm there.

Needless to say, Rickard would need more than a couple feet before he could even begin to hope to match his lord father. He was not a man grown, even if he had the height of one. He still had much to learn about politics, leadership, combat, diplomacy and other critical issues. As it happened, Rickard was a very inquisitive person by nature. As such, he was always willing to learn.

Of the twenty towers in Moat Cailin, Rickard Clegane had unrestricted access to seventeen of them. The Pleasure Tower, the Drunkard's Tower, and the Meeting Tower were the only ones he would ever be denied entry to.

In the eyes of his mother, he was too young to lay with a woman or consume excessive quantities of alcohol. Hence the restrictions on the first two. Hopefully in a few years, Mother will allow me to visit the Pleasure Tower and the Drunkard's Tower whenever I please. Rickard was aware that he could have simply snuck into either tower when Lady Dacey was not around. But he respected his mother too much to disobey her so. That aside, Rickard did not have much taste for whores or wine in the first place. He simply did not appreciate being denied the opportunity to sample either.

He did, however, possess a great desire to expand his intelligence. The Knowledge Tower could generally appease his thirst, but the library and Maester Luwin did not hold all the information in the Known World. Then again, no place in the Known World could legitimately claim to hold every piece of worthwhile information. All the same, a particular amount of meaningful, exclusive knowledge could sometimes be acquired in certain places of the world.

The Meeting Tower has to be one of those places. Nothing anyone else said could dissuade Rickard from believing that. The Meeting Tower was, after all, the place where the secret council convened.

For the last fifteen years, Lord Gregor Clegane had handled all the most sensitive affairs of the Legion without Banners with the aid of his secret council. The council was typically composed of twelve Legionnaires. Two of that dozen were Father and Mother. The other ten were representatives from each region of Westeros, including the land north of the Wall.

A total of sixteen people had served on the secret council. Osmund Kettleblack and Garth Hightower had died during Greyjoy's Rebellion, and they had been replaced by Lothor Brune and Willas Tyrell. Victarion Greyjoy had returned to the Iron Islands to take up his role as the Lord of Pyke, so his nephew Maron Greyjoy had taken his place. Allard Seaworth was currently occupied with business across the Narrow Sea, so Renly Baratheon was temporarily serving on the council in his place.

The secret council was called thus not because the names of its members were meant to be confidential, but because their affairs and the topics of their discussions were kept absolutely classified. It was so clandestine, in fact, that those sixteen people were the only ones who had ever set foot in the main chamber of the Meeting Tower. The only ones so far, that is.

Rickard was aware that Lord Gregor Clegane meant for him to assume command of the Legion without Banners someday. It's quite likely that day will not be for many years. In spite of that, Rickard was hoping that his father would elect to bring him into his inner circle before that day. After all, how can I be a suitable commander if I am oblivious to the Legion's most delicate activities?

Rickard knew better than to merely ask Father to be included in the meetings. He would no doubt refuse, and were I to insist, he'd give me at least half a dozen reasons why not. Obviously, there was the issue of Rickard's youth. Furthermore, all the members of the secret council were full-fledged Legionnaires, most of them for over a decade. Presently, Rickard was not even old enough to be a Legionnaire-in-training.

For now, all Rickard could do was loiter outside the Meeting Tower whenever the secret council gathered and brood on when his father would finally decide to entrust him with their doings.

That was precisely what he was doing at this time. Incidentally, he had been doing quite a bit of it lately.

Recently, the secret council had been assembled much more frequently than usual. Normally, they only met once a fortnight. Sometimes, even less often than that. However, they had gone to Meeting Tower thrice a week every week for the last month. That was six times their normal rate. Something atypical must be afoot.

Apparently, he was not the only person with that line of thought.

"How long have they been in there?" a voice asked from behind.

He turned to the owner of the voice and saw her standing a few feet away. He answered her with "Around an hour. Maybe two."

"Have you been out here ever since they went inside?" she presumed.

"Just about, my lady," Rickard affirmed.

The young woman smirked and proclaimed, "Rick, I've told you afore; you needn't call me 'my lady.' My given name will suffice."

Rickard shrugged dismissively and stated "As you wish… Rhaella."

Rhaella was a dark-haired maid of nine and ten years. She had been named for the late sister-wife of Mad King Aerys, though her birth had preceded the Queen's death by three or four years. Since that was back when the Targaryens were still in power, that name was by no means out of place.

This Rhaella exhibited the grace and essence of a highborn lady, despite the fact she was of relatively common birth. Her parents had been retainers to House Dayne of Starfall. Her mother was a native of Dorne, but her father had been from somewhere else in the Seven Kingdoms. He had died shortly after she was born, so she had not known much about him or his background. In any case, she tended to favor her mother in appearance; her Dornish heritage was plentifully evident in both her complexion and her skin tone.

Rhaella had arrived at the moat about twenty days earlier. Her party had been a small one; there were only five other people apart from her. One of them was her mother. The other four were a tradesman, a sellsword, an old knight, and a guardsman who had sworn service to the Dornishwomen.

Lord Howland Reed had provided them an escort up the Causeway. Father had been there when they arrived at the southern gate. Naturally, he had been expecting them. It is rare that anyone ventures here without him being aware of it beforehand.

While Rickard had not been present when Lord Gregor received Rhaella and her party, he had seen his father direct the Dornishwomen and their companions around Moat Cailin in the days that followed. Father seemed rather friendly with them. Then again, the Mountain always went out of his way to make all the moat's visitors feel welcome. Still, there was something quaint about his interaction with Rhaella and her mother. Rickard was almost inclined to suspect that his father may have known them even before they came to the moat. But that would be ludicrous. He's only been to Dorne twice since the Targaryens fell from grace, and neither visit was to Starfall.

Rickard had already asked Rhaella and her mother, Shaara, if they had ever been acquainted with his father before they came to the moat. He was surprised by the vagueness of the answers he had received. They did not deny his allegation, but they offered no compelling evidence to support it, either.

Perhaps I am just overthinking Father's ambassadorial mannerisms. Oh, well. If he and Rhaella actually have a history, I'll learn of it in time. If I'm meant to learn any of those precious secrets of his, I suppose he'll share them with me. Someday.

Whatever the case, Rickard was certain there was nothing "intimate" between Father and Rhaella. Not only were their encounters always out in the open and in the company of other people, but the Mountain was not the only Clegane she mingled with.

Rhaella had gotten to know Mother quite a bit, as well. It was not difficult for them to share in each other's interests. They actually had a number of similar interests, such as their combat prowess and their appreciation for other warrior women.

Rhaella also spent some time with Lord Gregor's children. Rickard did not know what could have sparked her intrigue in him and his siblings. After all, he was seven years her junior; his siblings, even younger. Nevertheless, it had not taken them long to come to enjoy her company. Rickard quickly discovered she was a delight to be around.

At this time, when Rhaella met up with Rickard on the exterior of the Meeting Tower, she had not come alone. Two men had been in her company. To be precise, one man and one boy. The man was the knight in Shaara's employ. Ser Rebinald, I believe that was his name. Why can't I remember his name? It seems he always goes wherever Rhaella goes, and I've seen much of her since she arrived. Rickard knew the boy's name, though. He would have been a lousy brother if he did not.

The boy stepped forward and humorously observed "You have a talent for wasting time, Rick."

"And I suppose you've passed the day working towards some grand accomplishment, Al," Rickard sarcastically remarked.

Alyver Clegane scoffed at the dryness of that statement. Then he donned a serious expression, folded his arms, and gazed at the outer wall of the Meeting Tower, saying "At least some day, you'll actually be permitted to go inside that building. I have no such assurances."

"Who says you don't?" Rickard countered, "When I'm the lord of the moat, you'll be free to go in there as often as you like."

One facet Alyver shared with his elder brother was a yearning for knowledge, though his was more a sense of childlike curiosity than an actual wish to hone his intelligence. In time, he may come to enjoy learning for the rewards it provides, just as I do.

"I will hold you to your word," Alyver muttered slyly. Nine namedays old, and he's already a smartass. I don't know whether to be proud or exasperated.

"Fear not," Rickard asserted, turning towards the entrance of the Meeting Tower, "Someday, we'll both be on the other side of that door."

"You lads are rather young to be so invested in your lord father's doings," Ser Rebinald noted, "A word of advice: you are only young once in your life. You should treasure your youth while it lasts."

"We treasure it plenty, Ser Rebinald," Alyver declared, "Be that as it may, Cleganes grow up faster than other children. In mind as well as body."

"He speaks true," Rickard conceded, "And with the Long Night fast approaching, we cannot afford to squander any time on the frivolities of childhood."

By her countenance, Rhaella seemed impressed with that observation "You may still be boys, but you speak with the wisdom of old men."

"Perhaps you could tell our lord father that, Rhaella," Alyver proposed, only half-joking, "It may sway him to allow us to attend the next meeting of the secret council."

"He'll include us when he sees fit," Rickard hastily declared, "No sooner nor later."

"Your brother has the right of it," Ser Rebinald told the second son of Lord Gregor Clegane.

"I suppose he does," Alyver grudgingly admitted.

Not long after this exchange, the front door of the Meeting Tower swung open and the twelve members of the secret council stepped outside. Most of them went their own ways. Ser Brynden Tully headed towards the Novice Tower to inspect the newest recruits. Tormund Giantsbane and Smalljon Umber went to the training yard for a few rounds of "friendly" sparring. Gerion Lannister headed off to the Smelting Tower to inspect the yield from the week's mining operations. Lothor Brune and Renly Baratheon headed to the Drunkard's Tower to lounge and have a few drinks (and to ensure that no one there had too much before noon). Maron Greyjoy went to the Worship Tower to give his daily prayer to the Drowned God. Lyn Corbray made for the Pleasure Tower for… predictable reasons.

Gregor Clegane, Dacey Mormont, Willas Tyrell, and Oberyn Martell lingered by the entrance to the Meeting Tower for a couple minutes. It only took the Lord and Lady of Moat Cailin a moment to notice Rickard and Alyver standing nearby. They smiled at their sons and walked over to them.

"Good morning, Father, Mother," Rickard bade his parents.

"Is it still morning?" Mother thought aloud.

"Barely, but yes," Alyver confirmed.

"That is fortunate," Father pronounced, "There is a task I must see to before mid-afternoon."

"Why mid-afternoon?" Rickard queried.

"We're expecting company today," Father apprised him. He then looked around at those who were in the immediate area and declared "Oberyn, Willas, Rhaella, I would speak with you in private sometime before then."

"As you command, my lord," Rhaella avowed. The heir to Highgarden and the Red Viper nodded their acknowledgment.

"If none of you has any objections, I propose we have that talk now," Willas Tyrell recommended.

"At present, I have nothing of greater precedence to do," Oberyn Martell stated.

"Neither do I," Father murmured. He looked to Rhaella and asked "Do you by chance know where your mother is?"

"I believe she is still in the Boarder Tower," the Dornishwoman professed.

Father claimed "This matter concerns her, as well. So let us make a detour to the Boarder Tower. Once we have found Shaara, we shall congregate in a more discrete place."

"Sounds like a plan," Oberyn said wryly. And Father has no shortage of those.

Gregor Clegane, Willas Tyrell, Oberyn Martell, and Rhaella swiftly headed to the southwest towards the Boarder Tower. Ser Rebinald followed close behind, keeping no more than ten feet of space between himself and the Dornishwoman.

Rickard still did not know why Rhaella and her mother were at Moat Cailin in the first place. Of course, these days, people were not required to have a legitimate reason to come to the moat. There were some who visited it for the experience, and some for the simple pleasure of seeing the base of the Legion without Banners.

All the same, the longer Rhaella was at the moat, the more Rickard was induced to think that she had some explicit motivation for coming. Her motivation may be hidden, but it is most certainly there. He was inclined to believe that her purpose had something to do with Willas Tyrell.

The first day Rhaella came to the moat, Father had led both her and Willas up to his solar. Rickard could not say for a certainty how long they were up there, but it had to have been for at least three hours. When they finally came back down, Rhaella and Willas had spent the rest of the day together. Ever since then, they had gotten progressively more comfortable in each other's presence.

Just then, when they departed from the vicinity, Willas and Rhaella walked side-by-side. At one point, Rickard noticed that he took her hand in his. I could be wrong, but I would say they were enamored. Or well on the way to it. Rickard wondered if Willas and Rhaella were falling in love with each other. While it may have been likely, it was quite impossible. Social norms would never permit a union between the heir to a Great House and the daughter of a retainer to a noble house, especially when the former was from the Reach and the latter was from Dorne. They may get along here, but south of the Neck… not so much.

It had occurred to Rickard that Rhaella may have had more than one goal when she came to the moat. If so, her secondary objective may have concerned Jon Snow, Father's squire and one of Rickard's closest friends. Rhaella did not spend as much time with Jon as she did with Willas, but she spent enough that Rickard found it noteworthy. He could not guess what interest she may have had in the bastard of Winterfell. Perhaps she was actually more interested in his direwolf Ghost than she was in Jon. She did seem to get along with Myrna well enough, though. Whatever Rhaella's interest in Jon is, let us hope it is nothing suggestive. Not only would that complicate her relationship with Willas, but Ygritte might have made her life the Seven Hells.

Once Father, Rhaella, Willas, Prince Oberyn, and Ser Rebinald were gone from the area, Rickard was left alone with Mother and Alyver.

Lady Dacey Clegane looked to her firstborn and cheekily muttered "Are you convinced that if you stand here long enough, your father will let you inside the Meeting Tower sooner?"

"Surely you know me better than that, Mother," Rickard bluntly replied.

"I do know that for the last four weeks, you've waited outside this building every time your father held council," Mother contended, "Every time we've adjourned, I've found you standing in that exact same spot when I exit."

"She is correct," Alyver coincided with a smirk, "You are obsessed, you do realize?"

"Is it wrong of me to harbor an interest in Father's duties?" Rickard irately refuted.

"No," Mother asserted, "Someday, they will be your duties, as well."

"Which is why I am so interested," Rickard revealed.

Mother lightly scoffed. It was not a mocking scoff; it was more an amused one. She then formed a kind expression on his face, stepped closer to her firstborn, and suggested "Rick, what say you and I walk the perimeter of the moat?"

Well, I have nothing better to do right now. "Certainly, Mother."

As Rickard moved closer to Lady Dacey Clegane, she turned to Alyver and told him "You're welcome to come along, Al."

"I'd be delighted to, Mother," the second Clegane son stated sincerely, "But I promised Vallory I'd show her the proper way to wield a sword today."

For a moment, their mother appeared a little concerned by the implications of that statement. Alyver told her in assurance "Worry not; it'll be made of wood, not steel."

"All the same, please be careful," Mother cautioned him, "Even with a wooden sword, she could get hurt."

Says the woman who was swinging a morningstar when other girls her age were playing with dolls.

"Everything will be fine," Alyver insisted. He sounds as though he knows what he is doing. Mother must have thought the same, as she grinned and nodded.

Alyver headed off to the Children's Tower to locate their sister. After that, the woman from Bear Island turned back to her firstborn and proposed "Shall we take that walk?"

Now it was Rickard who grinned and nodded.

Over the course of the subsequent three hours, the heir to Moat Cailin and his lady mother went all around the moat. They spent most of that interval atop the outer walls.

Moat Cailin's design was very different from that of other holdfasts. Instead of having one main edifice with several smaller structures constructed around it, it was composed of twenty towers of relatively equal size. Apart from the Armament Tower, the Banquet Tower, the Lord's Tower, the Meeting Tower, and the Infantry Tower, all the towers of Moat Cailin had at least one side along the outer wall. Furthermore, all the towers were connected to two or more of the other towers by way of both stone walls and catwalks.

By traversing the entire length of the outer wall, one could move between all fifteen of the outward-facing towers without even setting foot on the ground. That was just what Rickard and his mother did.

They started along the Captains' Tower, as it was nearest to the Meeting Tower. From there, they passed through the Smelting Tower, and they went completely around the Pleasure Tower. Just like we always do.

They continued westward along the outer wall in what Father would have called a counterclockwise route. Proceeding eastward would have been a clockwise route. Clockwise and counterclockwise were two of the many terms his father had established. I still wonder what a 'clock' might be.

There were guards stationed all along the outer wall every twenty feet. None of these guards were Legionnaires; they were all sworn to House Clegane. Every time Lady Dacey Clegane and Rickard walked past them, the sentinels dipped their heads respectfully. Many of them muttered "milady" to Mother, "milord" to Rickard, or both. All who spoke did so with genuine admiration in their tones. Rickard appreciated that; it demonstrated just how highly House Clegane's retainers viewed their lord and his family. Of course, it is rather difficult not to like the Mountain.

Gregor Clegane was as good a father as he was a lord and commander, but sometimes his ability to manage all three at once was challenged. There were times when his obligations to the realm and his retainers had to come before those of his family. Rickard did not begrudge his father for that. The Mountain was simply doing what was required and expected of him as a noble lord of the Seven Kingdoms.

Dacey Clegane was often as busy as her lord husband, but her duties as Lady of Moat Cailin included managing the household and raising the Lord's children. As such, she was more often available for Rickard and his siblings. She was the one he normally went to whenever he needed guidance or advice. This time, it is she who came to me instead. That generally happened whenever Dacey wished to discuss an intimate matter with her son.

One of their best ways to bond was by walking around the moat. They did this often. But not just for the exercise and the sights. These walks doubled as talks. As it happened, that was the fundamental purpose of them.

The subjects of their conversations typically varied. Some of the things they talked about that day were the moat's new trade agreement with Qarth, the recent slight decline in the Legion's enlistment rate, and how the marriage contract between Robb Stark and Margaery Tyrell had been finalized.

Around midday, they reached the Flour Tower and stopped there for a bite to eat. After that, they continued onwards to the Worship Tower. It was there that the nature of the conversation shifted from casual to personal.

As they passed over Merchants' Block, Lady Dacey turned to her eldest son and asked him "Rickard, did I tell you how your father and I first met?"

"No, he did," Rickard stated plainly.

Mother chuckled at the straightforwardness of his answer. Then she enquired "Do you know what was remarkable about that occasion?"

Rickard thought on that for a minute. He tried to recall all the details Father had told him about when he and Mother had first met. Ultimately, he shrugged and muttered "Off the top of my head… I cannot think of anything particularly remarkable. I do not mean to be rude when I say that, Mother."

"Oh, it is quite alright, Rick," Mother reassured him, "Because you are correct. There was nothing remarkable about it."

Rickard was perplexed. "There wasn't?"

"Well, it did mark the moment when the Legion without Banners gained its first female member," Lady Dacey stated with a smile, "But that would have inevitably happened in any case. I am speaking of what occurred between your father and myself. There was nothing special in the least."

Rickard raised an eyebrow and gazed off to his side. He uttered softly "So, there was nothing passed between you? Nothing at all?"

"There was amity," Mother disclosed, "But that exists between every occupant of Moat Cailin. Even so, that was all there was between Lord Gregor Clegane and me on our first encounter. Your father and I were strictly colleagues."

"And how long did you remain 'strictly colleagues?'" Rickard stated inquiringly.

"The entire rest of that year, and much of the following one," she apprised him, "We gradually grew closer as top officers of the Legion. At some point, we discovered we had chemistry. However, we did not acknowledge that chemistry until our first joint mission to the Vale."

"The one that ended in failure?" Rickard asked rhetorically.

Mother hesitated a moment before she mumbled "Yes… I suppose it was a failure."

Baelish died before you could get him to Harrenhal. Sounds every bit a failure to me. Rickard noted his mother did not seem so convinced of that.

She continued with "While the mission did not end in success, it did produce some fortunate results. On our way back to the moat, your father and I confessed our true feelings for each other. After we admitted that we were compatible, he suggested we solidify our relationship."

"I assume you accepted?" Rickard muttered.

"I told him I would ask your grandmother for her blessing first," Mother recounted, "Once she gave it, then I accepted. In the time since then, I have never once regretted my decision."

Rickard smiled at that and nodded his head slightly. Then he folded his arms and commented "This is all very fascinating, Mother. Truly it is. But why are you telling me this now?"

There must be a point to it.

He found out what it was a moment later. Lady Dacey Clegane notified him "When I first met your father, I thought of him as a fellow warrior and my leader, but nothing more. I swore him my allegiance as a soldier. I never thought I would devote myself to him as a woman. Back then, I had no plans to wed any man. Now, I cannot imagine sharing a bed with anyone else. To me, that is a sign that relationships can be wholly unpredictable. One never knows how they will change or where they will end."

Rickard reflected on those words, and he found he could not argue with any of them. He admitted"That's all very true. There is no way to tell how a relationship turn out. Strangers can become friends. Acquaintances can become lovers. Friends can become enemies."

"And underlings can become leaders," Mother added in. It was here that the full meaning of this lecture was made clear. "You won't always be just my son, Rickard. Before too long, you will be old enough to enter the Legion without Banners. When that day comes, you will also be my soldier. Gods willing, someday you will be my commander."

He could not decide if he was more alarmed or astonished by that statement. He shook his head softly and murmured "You give me too much praise, Mother. How could I ever give you orders?"

"When your father passes on, you will be obliged to," Dacey Clegane reminded him, "Commanding an army and heading a house may appear very different from each other. But they are more alike than you might think. When you are lord of this house, I will no longer be its lady. In the same fashion, when you assume control of the Legion, I will have no official authority over you. I will only be your lieutenant and your advisor."

"No," Rickard firmly disputed, "You'll still be my mother. I'll still be your son. A son should love and respect his mother as a man just as he did in boyhood."

Mother appeared touched by that declaration. She smiled at him, placed two gentle hands on his shoulders, and pulled him into a hug. She whispered "And even when the boy grows into a man, the mother loves him no less, either."

Most adolescents may have been embarrassed to be so affectionate with their mother in public. Rickard was not one of them. When his mother hugged him, he returned the embrace thusly. In his mind, domestic love was the purest form of love; it was not to be scorned or made ridicule of. Aside from that, Rickard and his mother were taller than anyone else in the immediate area. So even if he was not the heir to the moat and she was not its lady, he was not concerned that they would deride him. They know I am big enough to teach any of them a lesson in manners. And I will, if need be.

When Rickard and his lady mother pulled apart, she looked him in the eye and asked him not unkindly "Rickard, if you were to become lord of Moat Cailin in the near future, would you be reluctant to take up the role?"

"Of course I would," Rickard replied straightforwardly, "I would still do my duty and assume the lordship, but I would be far from pleased to do so. I do not say that simply because I feel I'd be unprepared for the role. It would be a grievous blow to all of us if we were to lose Father."

"Yes, it would be," Mother solemnly concurred.

Rickard suddenly became a little anxious. "Mother, is something wrong with Father? Is that why we are having this discussion?"

"No, your father is fine," Dacey Clegane assured her son, "Aside from near-excessive levels of stress and the occasional migraine, that is."

"I would expect nothing less from a man in his position," Rickard commented drily.

Mother smirked and gave a small nod. Then she put on her "serious" expression, and she said "I know you wish to be included in the secret council meetings. Your father knows, as well."

"I cannot claim to be surprised," Rickard Clegane uttered, "Since you've found me outside the Meeting Tower after each of the council's sessions, my desires were not what you would call 'subtle.'"

"Rick, we knew of your desires even before the last turn of the moon," Mother told him.

The heir to Moat Cailin was stunned. He began "How…?"

"Parents always know such things," Dacey Clegane claimed. Hardly an original explanation. But a fitting one all the same. "Your father and I have talked at length on when you should start to attend the secret council meetings."

Now Rickard was pleasantly surprised. He asked hopefully "Do you think I am ready? Or on the verge of 'ready?'"

"We have not reached a verdict just yet," Mother revealed, as though she was discussing a business matter, "If the choice were mine alone, I would bring you into the secret council very soon. Perhaps as soon as our very next meeting. I believe you deserve to be in the know. Alas, your father believes you need more time."

Rickard grimaced a bit. "Would it be impertinent to ask why?"

"Mainly, he wishes for you to focus more on your duties to our house," Lady Dacey Clegane explained, "There is also the fact that you are not yet a member of the Legion. He argues that we should wait another year."

Rickard nodded grimly. This does not bode well.

Even if his mother was on his side, he was well-aware that the final decision would ultimately be his father's. After all, Dacey Clegane was Lord Gregor's officer and his lady wife. It was her responsibility to uphold his decisions, just as it was Rickard's to accept them.

Still, it was not a totally lost cause. By his next nameday, he would be old enough to enter the Legion. He could only hope for the position of a squire, but he would still be a part of the organization. After that, he might earn a spot on the secret council.

"Just one full year," Rickard mumbled, "If fortune smiles on me."

"Do not despair just yet, Rick," Dacey advised her son, grinning mischeviously, "I have ways of swaying your father's mind."

Rickard stifled the urge to laugh. "I did not need to know that."

Dacey snickered at that. Then she stated "Regardless of what your father decides, I would ask that you be patient."

"I give you my word that I will be," Rickard asserted. Though I would still much prefer to be in the circle sooner rather than later.

As though he had spoken those words instead of thought them, Mother looked at her son sympathetically and told him "If it gives you any consolation, your father does not share everything he knows with the secret council. There are certain things he does not tell even me."

"Every person is entitled to a few secrets," Rickard contended casually, "I do not want to join the secret council just so I can be aware of the Legion's private affairs. I want to join so I can be of use to you and Father."

"I never once thought otherwise," Lady Dacey Clegane pronounced, "With the threat of the Long Night approaching, we will need every bit of help we can get. However, you know as well as I do that it is not enough to be prepared for the Long Night."

"Indeed," Rickard conceded, "We must think beyond it, as well."

"Just so," Dacey Clegane confirmed. Next there was an interval of relative quietness in the area. Following that, Dacey bore a wide grin and stated "On the subject of thinking beyond the Long Night, it is not enough for a family to merely survive. It must prosper, as well. Therefore, I have another important question to ask. Have you given any thought to the future of this house?"

"I think about the future of this house all the time," Rickard claimed.

"Is that so?" Dacey uttered tersely, "Then how much thought have you given as to who you'd like to continue the house's future with?"

Rickard quickly realized what she meant. She wants to know if I have any prospects for the next lady of the moat.

"Truthfully, I have not given the topic very much thought at all, Mother," he admitted to the woman from Bear Island. But I probably will, and fairly soon.

His assumption was correct. Dacey Clegane smiled again and declared "Your father and I are willing to consider any eligible woman for you, so long as she is not a Frey."

Again, I am not surprised. While Father always preached fair treatment and equality, Rickard knew that Gregor Clegane did not like most Freys. There were some he could stomach. But not many."Why all the hostility towards House Frey? I know they've had an unsavory reputation for the last century. But I would say they've begun to regain their honor these last ten years."

"Perhaps they have," Dacey Clegane uttered cockily, "Another three or four generations, and they'll be on the same level as us."

Rickard snickered at her observation. "Very well. No Frey brides."

He could tell Mother was pleased by that.

Rickard leaned back against the wall, rested his hands on the rail support, and thought aloud "It may be too soon to rush to any conclusions, but I believe it would be most advantageous if I were to marry a Northern girl."

"I was hoping you might say that," Dacey Clegane revealed, "I have a number of healthy prospects lined up for you."

This should be 'mesmerizing.' As he remained slouched against the Wall, Rickard gazed up at his mother and proclaimed "Alright, Mother. Who have you in mind?"

"Off the top of my head, I can think of at least a dozen highborn girls that would suit you," Mother declared, "Among them, I believe the three most promising ones are Wylla Manderly, Klara Dustin, and Talia Forrester."

Rickard gave three nods of approval. He perceived "Each brings her own rewards. A contract with White Harbor would strengthen our access to the sea. A contract with Barrowtown would improve our relations with the houses of the Barrowlands and the Boltons. A contract with Ironrath would increase our supply of ironwood. Of course, I have never met any of the three girls, but that can easily be remedied by scheduling a trip to each of their ancestral homes. Or they could come to visit me."

"Where would you like to start?" Mother queried.

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves," Rickard requested, "I would like some time to reflect further on the advantages and disadvantages of each match. Then I shall pick which one to pursue first."

"That seems a fair arrangement," Mother conceded, "Take all the time you need to think on this matter. I do not wish to rush you, nor do I intend to. Whoever you marry should be your choice and yours alone. Your father and I had that prerogative; it is only right that you should have it, as well."

"I am most grateful for that, Mother," Rickard said appreciatively.

Rickard would indeed consider all the advantages and disadvantages of marrying each of those three girls, just as he claimed he would. However, while he did not doubt that Wylla Manderly, Klara Dustin, and Talia Forrester would each make a fine wife for some man, he was not especially interested in being that man in the case of any of the three.

Unbeknownst to Mother, Father, and just about everyone else at the moat, Rickard had forged a close bond with another highborn girl of the North. Currently, they were good friends and nothing more. But there was potential for their relationship to grow into something more. Secretly, he was hoping it would grow into something more.

Unfortunately, even if it did, it was unlikely that the two of them could ever be together as husband and wife. For one thing, she was one of the few girls in the Seven Kingdoms whose birth was even higher than Rickard's. Winning the approval of her lord father and lady mother would have been a tremendous challenge in and of itself.

An even greater challenge would have been to win her approval. Rickard was aware that she had no interest in marriage and children. As a matter of fact, she was almost totally averse to the very concept of being a lady. She much preferred riding horses, hunting game, and sparring with weapons. She even carried her own sword. Her "Needle," as she called it.

She reminds me very much of Mother. Maybe that's why I enjoy her company so.

Although it seemed highly improbable that she and Rickard would ever be joined together, as long as there was still the slightest possibility that they could be, he was not going to give up on her. He just felt so comfortable being who he was around her, and she felt the same with him. That much I know for a certainty.

Be that as it may, he was prepared to deal with disappointment. There was a very high probability that he would have to settle for someone else. He had come to terms with that likelihood already. If he had to sacrifice his own happiness for the good of his house and the realm, he was willing to do so. There were more honorable men who had lost much more for lesser causes.

Near the beginning of the last part of their conversation, Rickard and his mother had stopped walking. They were still atop the section of the outer wall that connected the Flour Tower to the Worship Tower. Whenever they discussed personal topics, they preferred to be standing still. It helped them concentrate better.

They were about to continue walking when a shrill noise broke through the calm atmosphere. It only took Rickard a few seconds to realize that it was the sound of a horn being blown. He listened closely, and it appeared to originate from the southwest. It's coming from the harbor.

"Someone's sailing up the Cut," he thought aloud.

"It would seem so," Mother agreed.

"How about we investigate?" he cheerfully proposed. She nodded her approval of the idea.

They reached the harbor just in time to see the gates being opened. A lone vessel passed through them. It appeared to be a Dornish galley. That by itself caught Rickard's fancy. The Dornish had infamously few ships, and each of them was only put to use on special occasions. What could one be doing this far north?

Soon enough, the galley pulled into the docks. After that, the gangplank was extended, and four people disembarked. One of them was the ship's captain. The other three appeared to be passengers. Rickard noticed that the captain and two of the passengers were Dornish. The fourth might have been, as well, but it was difficult to tell; he was helmed. And armed. That's a fine sword he's got there.

It was then that Rickard and his mother saw that a welcoming party had been assembled on the waterfront. Father was at the head of it. Prince Oberyn Martell, Rhaella, her mother Shaara, and Ser Rebinald were there, as well.

Rickard Clegane and his lady mother watched as Prince Oberyn stepped up to the two passengers who did not wear a helm and embraced them both. Shaara walked over to the helmed individual and embraced him, as well. After that, Ser Rebinald shook that man's hand.

A moment later, Rhaella stepped up to the first two passengers, and the three of them shared an even longer and tighter embrace. It was the type of embrace one might give to an estranged family member. Perhaps they are family. Then again, as far as I know, House Martell and the retainers of House Dayne have no immediate kin. Then again, I am not a professional on Dornish genealogies.

After the six Dornish people and Ser Rebinald were finished greeting one another, Father approached them. Evidently, he is officially welcoming the new arrivals to the moat.

The helmed man shook Father's hand. So did the younger of the unarmed passengers, who was also a man. However, the elder of the unarmed passengers, who was clearly a woman, disregarded the Mountain's hand altogether and embraced him instead. Father was currently standing with his back to Rickard, but based on how his head was inclined, it looked as though the Dornishwoman had induced him to bring his head down to her level. It was almost as though she had kissed him.

My eyes must be deceiving me. Father would never be unfaithful to Mother, nor she to him.

Once all the formalities had been dispensed with, Lord Gregor Clegane and Prince Oberyn Martell led the others off the waterfront. They hastily made their way towards the stone staircase along the outer wall. This staircase happened to lead up to the section of the outer wall that Rickard and his mother were standing on top of.

"It looks as though they're headed this way," Rickard pointed out.

"I believe you're right," Lady Dacey Clegane validated.

A minute later, Lord Gregor Clegane and his party ascended to the top of the staircase. Mere moments after stepping onto the outer wall, the Mountain saw his wife and his heir standing a few dozen feet away. He flashed them a smile, and then he and those in his company ambled over to them.

"Afternoon, Father," Rickard bade Lord Gregor Clegane, who nodded in acknowledgment. He then shifted his attention to the three passengers from the Dornish vessel, and he remarked "I presume this is the aforementioned company you were expecting?"

"You assume correctly," Father confirmed. He proceeded to introduce the three newest visitors. He started with the youngest of them, who had to be about five years Rickard's elder. "This is Edgar Sand, the only male of Oberyn Martell's infamous Sand Snakes."

Then he pointed out the armed man with the concealed face and disclosed "This is Ihtos, a freerider in servce to House Nymeros Martell."

Finally, he gestured to the woman and declared "And this is Princess Elia Martell, Prince Oberyn's sister."

Although Ihtos appeared less than genial, Edgar Sand and Princess Elia seemed friendly enough.

Father then approached Mother and Rickard and encouraged them to come closer to the new arrivals. He swiftly introduced them, as well.

He placed his hand on his firstborn's shoulder and announced "I would like you all to meet my son and heir, Rickard Clegane."

Remembering his pleasantries, Rickard stepped forward and extended his hand to Ihtos, Edgar Sand, and Princess Elia Martell. He told them in a genuine tone "I am honored to make your acquaintance."

Ihtos shook his hand rather stiffly. Edgar's handshake was a little gentler but just as firm. Elia did not bother with the handshake. Instead, without any warning whatsoever, she rapidly moved closer to Rickard, placed her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him softly on the lips.

The kiss only lasted a split-second, but it caught him off his guard. In effect, Rickard froze in astonishment. He stood absolutely still for about ten seconds before he regained his senses. I knew the Dornish were more casual about sex and working charms on others than the rest of Westeros. Even so… I did not expect that. All the same, the kiss was not unpleasant. Princess Elia had a rather enticing kiss for a woman in her early forties.

Mother giggled, moved up beside him, and muttered humorously "Still convinced that you should only consider girls from the North?"

Rickard did not even elect to dignify that with a proper response. He just rolled his eyes, which made his mother giggle even more.

"You must be Lady Cleagne," Edgar Sand conjectured.

"Correct," she avowed.

Father stood behind Mother and pronounced "This is my beautiful wife, Dacey of House Mormont."

"She is beautiful, my lord," Edgar Sand proclaimed, "I will grant you that,"

"Well, I thank you, Edgar," Lady Dacey Clegane muttered, flushing.

Ihtos gave Mother another rough handshake. Again, Edgar's handshake was more delicate, and this time, he placed a chivalrous kiss on Mother's knuckles.

Mother moved to shake Princess Elia's hand, too. This time, it actually looked as though Elia was going to accept the hand. She almost did. But at the very last moment, she sauntered past the taller woman's arm, took ahold of her cheeks, and kissed her full on the lips, too. This kiss lasted longer than a split-second.

Rickard had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing. When Princess Elia pulled away, he could not decide whose facial expression was more priceless at that time: Mother's or Father's.

Elia Martell placed her hands on her hips and proclaimed "All this time, I've been under the impression that you were a very lucky woman, Lady Dacey. But it could be that your husband is even a luckier man."

Rickard could no longer resist his urge to laugh. He promptly broke out guffawing. Prince Oberyn, Edgar Sand, Rhaella, and Shaara soon joined in. Before long, Father, Princess Elia, and even Mother began to chuckle a bit, as well.

When the laughter faded away, Gregor Clegane told the three new guests "You must be tired after your voyage. What say I show you to the Boarder Tower?"

"We would appreciate that, my lord," Edgar Sand stated gratefully.

"Indeed," Ihtos coincided.

"Your quarters have already been prepared for you," Father declared, "Follow me; I'll take you to them."

Lord Gregor Clegane, Prince Oberyn Martell, Princess Elia Martell, Edgar Sand, Rhaella, Shaara, Ihtos, and Ser Rebinald continued along the outer wall. Just before she left, Elia flashed a grin towards Rickard and his mother. It was probably only meant to be a harmless, innocent gesture. Had someone outside of Dorne made it, it most certainly would have been. But what would the Dornish know about harmless, innocent gestures?

Soon, Rickard was left alone with his mother once more. He noticed Mother still seemed half-paralyzed by shock over what had just happened.

Rickard smirked, stepped up to her, and said inquisitively "First time kissing a woman, Mother?"

She gradually turned to face her son and slowly nodded her head. "It was."

"Don't take it so hard," Rickard beckoned her audaciously, "It was my first time, as well."

That was all it took to encourage his mother to overcome her surprise over her introduction to Elia Martell and to instead get another laugh out of it. Rickard decided to join in the laugh. He laughed for three reasons. Firstly, he wished to partake in his mother's amusement. Secondly, he had just had his first intimate experience with a member of the opposite sex. Third and most of all, he felt very relaxed and at ease at that moment. He had not felt so tranquil in quite a while. He wanted to savor that feeling; there was a chance he would not get to experience it again for a very long time.