The Young Trout

"What do you think, Jonos? Are all the rivermen here?" I asked curiously, steadying the increasingly stand-offish Roach as I turned to look at my companion.

The River Lord scratched his thin beard and cast a glance at the forest behind us, where dark trees reached out with twisted limbs made of cracked wood. He looked at the two men in front of us, hoisting the crimson stallion banner of House Bracken, then cocked his head, "I don't think so. The pavilions would be stretching to the forest behind us were that the case."

"Maybe... they were sent to guard the passes? Or maybe Harrenhal or the Stony Sept?"

"Oh?" I smiled, turning to Addam, "That's probably it."

If their current liege lord had any sense for war, securing his borders despite the rout would be the first thing on his mind.

Jonos cocked his head, "How did I not think of that?"

I shrugged. Finally, I turned my gaze to what had prompted my sudden question.

Riverrun was an easy ride from Stone Hedge, with a properly named road and all, and Jonos Bracken had politely requested permission to accompany us. I'd seen no reason to deny him then, even if he seemed a tad too excited by my approval.

We'd covered the distance quickly enough and came upon a three-sided castle, with ancient walls of red-sandstone that rose from deep, gushing rivers on two sides. Tall towers stood watch on each end, manned by vigilant bowmen who were already notifying their superiors of our presence, alongside the soldiers patrolling the crenelated walls.

I spotted sluice gates on the one side not guarded by water, primed to fill in a deep ditch from the two rivers to either side of the castle.

It was smart, incredibly so, effectively making Riverrun an island fortress.

But... that wasn't what caught my attention.

It was the scores upon scores of decorated pavilions and tents set up beyond the moat itself, stretching out like discoloured mounds of soil, guarded by a wooden fence and patrolled by pikemen. With rudimentary wooden watchtowers properly set up.

Braziers burnt across the 'camp', still lit from the night before, and black smoke billowed to dull skies that cared little for it.

I could hear the clangs of steel, the grunts of men, the sound of boots against mud, even from this distance... though, a glance at my companions revealed that that was largely due to my own senses.

We strode in inconspicuously. The guards didn't bother us once they recognised the banners carried by the outriders.

But, somewhere along the way, as we rode past the muddy, footstep-ridden, path up to Riverrun, something changed.

I noticed recognition in the eyes of some among those that saw me and Roach. Then came hushed whispers and hurried paces as more and more came out to stare as if I were some sort of rare commodity.

"...Looks like I'm popular."

"Popu-... what?" Addam mumbled quietly.

I stared at my squire flatly, "Well-known."

"Of course, Lord Karl!" Jonos declared loudly, puffing out his chest, "Word has spread. The Riverlands are well aware of the debt we owe you. We are not foolish enough to deny that were you not standing watch, many would have burnt and died. Daughters and mothers raped, and sons and fathers slaughtered!"

If before the eyes on us had been largely doubtful and dismissive, now they were fierce, intense with awe and disbelief.

I pursed my lips at his tone and sighed, "You don't have to be so loud, do you?"

"Don't worry, I understand." He gave me a knowing smile, then puffed out his chest.

I didn't want to find out just what it was that he seemed to understand.

"He is right, though." Addam spoke out, struggling to steady his steed... The frightened animal seemed about ready to bolt off once it caught sight of me... much like most other creatures of nature.

I'd honed in and reeled back whatever part of myself seemed so frightening to nature but there were exceptions. It was mostly fine till they caught sight of my eyes, and I was satisfied with that.

I smiled amusedly, "You think there's songs about me yet?"

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a singer not prancing about with tunes about a watchful guardian of the people." He reported seriously, a little too seriously, "There's also the few that seem to think you a devil, ser. That's from the crown and the High Septon calling you a Devil, I reckon."

Groaning, I lost interest immediately.

There always had to be that one organisation calling me out for being some sort of evil maniac, and it was always one that held massive sway over public opinion. A repeat of last time was... less than ideal.

"Do you agree?"

"I worship the Old Gods." He answered nonchalantly, a little too used to my presence, "For all I know, you might even be one of them."

Intrigued by our conversation, I moved my interest away from the reverent gazes of the soldiers and knights we passed to my squire. "So, I'm not gonna be hated?"

The boy shook his head, then put one hand over the other, leaning forward, "Do you think... people will abandon a devil that saved them for... Gods who couldn't care less?"

"Damn." I scratched my cheek, "You're growing up a little too fast."

I supposed I couldn't complain about him becoming more sensible.

He seemed disheartened by my words, so I chuckled, "Oh that's not a bad thing. I'm proud of you, man."

We soon crossed under a raised portcullis, into a yard where dozens of eyes noted every single movement. For an ancient castle, Riverrun was incredibly well-maintained, with no signs of the disrepair in its tower and facilities I'd seen all around Winterfell.

A stocky soldier wearing a padded tabard ran up as soon as we stopped. He quickly reached for the reins on Roach, "My lords, allow me t-"

The poor fellow was interrupted by Roach neighing and spewing flame from his nostrils. My loyal steed then glared at the man for his 'audacity'.

"Sorry about that, he's picky." I could only chuckle and offer a shoddy apology as I dismounted Roach. Still smiling, I patted him on his hind, "Away boy, make yourself scarce. No livestock like last time, do with fish."

It had eaten some poor farmer's sheep last time I sent it off.

The horse roared and ran off like a child throwing a tantrum.

I patted the dazed soldier on his shoulder, stuffing a silver coin in the man's hand, "I trust this is enough?"

"M-M'lord I can-"

"I insist." I retrieved another coin from my trench coat.

"There's no nee-"

Jonos Bracken interjected before I could proceed, "Enough! Here! Go stable my horse, and the boy's! Did no one teach you not to talk back?" He stomped over and harshly shoved the reins of his steed into the soldier's hands, "Piss off, boy."

This particular River Lord was needlessly harsh with those of lower stations.

I cocked my head, and did something I held no affinity for but found necessary, "Since we're on the topic anyway... what makes you think you can interrupt me?"

"T-Tha-..." He paled instantly, beads of sweat formed on his wrinkled forehead. Jonos choked up, having assigned an absurdly high station to me in his own mind. Finally, he lowered his head in shame, "I apologise, my Lord. It will not happen again."

I licked my dry lips and patted his shoulder, "Just be a bit nicer. Nobody deserves to be treated like shit... Your people taught me that."

His men watched quietly, but I could spot the smiles they were trying so hard to hide behind ashamed stares.

Not a moment later, we were approached by a young man in a brown tunic that reminded me of Robb and Sansa Stark, with auburn hair and a fiery red beard framing his chin. He was broad shouldered, not quite tall, and stared at me through deep blue eyes that seemed conflicted and confused... yet carried an odd hope.

He... smelled like the Stark children.

To my knowledge, Hoster Tully was terribly ill and his son had taken charge of the Riverlands in his absence. The same son who had ordered Lords Piper and Vance to face Jaime Lannister with a force less than half of his.

"Edmure Tully, I presume?" I tipped my hat in greeting, flashing him a neutral smile.

He affirmed my words with a small nod, hands behind his back, "Lord... Karl?"

I smiled at his inexperience.

His face had told me what he felt and his words had confirmed it. Much like most who recognised me, he had no idea how to entertain a conversation with me, or how to behave.

So... I held out my hand, "Well met, child."

His blue eyes flickered with hesitance, but, he took my hand, "...Likewise."

"Can I meet Hoster Tully?"

I was curious about the old man, that was it, but he seemed to derive some other meaning, putting on a guarded expression, "...Why?"

"Oh come on." I let out a small laugh, "I smashed the Lannister's twice and made Tywin question his life choices. If I held ill will, I'd have acted it on without making myself Joffrey's greatest enemy."

The young Tully hesitated at my words, again, unsure of what to do, "And why would you..."

He seemed inept but his questions were reasonable... after all, nobody in their right mind would destroy two armies for a reason as simple as not wanting to see common folks suffer for no reason.

"Because I don't like how the Lannisters handled things. That's all I need." I maintained my smile but let go of his hand, "And I like your nephew's guts, and his tact."

After a short while, he nodded, still unsure but not like before, "I shall take you to my father." He then turned to Jonos Bracken, "I will have my men draw up quarters for you, Lord Bracken."

Jonos knelt on one knee, "I am afraid I must return to Stone Hedge, my lord... I will return with as many of my men as I can soon as we finish rebuilding. I apologise."

"No need. See to it that Stone Hedge is returned to its former... glory."

"Yes, my lord!"

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