The Inn of the Kneeling Man was an important site for Northern history. It stood upon the very ground that King Torrhen had bent the knee to the Targaryen conqueror, and the North became the 6th Kingdom. Torrhen wished he could appreciate it more, but his thoughts were on his sister as he strode in to the inn. The owner of the inn noticed his clothing and the direwolf at his side and bowed her head.
"My Prince, we were not expecting you, what can I get for you." She said.
"Your cook, the one that said he knows of my sister Arya." Torrhen said bluntly. "Nothing else will be required of you just a few minutes of his time."
"At once Prince Torrhen." She bowed again, rushing in to the kitchens. Torrhen went and sat down at one of the tables and waited a few minutes before a very fat boy came and sat opposite him.
"You're the one that knows my sister?" Torrhen asked him.
"Yes milord… err, Prince Torrhen." The cook stumbled on his words. "The names Hot Pie."
"Hot Pie?" Torrhen asked.
"Yes." He answered, not giving anything away.
"Right, about my sister." Torrhen prompted.
"Ah yes! The brotherhood took her and Gendry, and a big man with half a burnt face."
"The Hound?" Torrhen asked bemused. "What is he doing so far away from his kennels."
"Not a clue, but that's who has them. They went that way." Hot Pie pointed to the road leading south.
"Any idea where they were headed?" Torrhen asked.
"No milord." Hot Pie answered sadly. Torrhen sighed.
"How many of them were there?"
Hot Pie told him all he knew of their numbers, which proved to be a big help once they mentioned a wagon. "I'm sorry I don't know more." Hot Pie said.
"Thank you anyway lad, here take this for your trouble." Torrhen said, handing him a couple of pieces of silver.
"Gee, thanks!" Hot Pie said gleefully. "Are you staying the night? I can make you some bread for the journey."
"No, I want to get after her as quick as I can." Torrhen said, standing up and making his way out to the horses. Talking to the owner of the Inn, he asked. "Where in the Riverlands south of here would nobody want to go?" He asked her.
"South? Well other than Harrenhal there's the Isle of Faces, High Heart and the Hollow Mountains that no one goes to."
Thanking her, Torrhen turned to his men. "We begin looking for tracks now. We ride for High Heart, if she's not there then we go to the Hollow Hill." Torrhen told them, mounting his horse again and beginning to ride in the direction of his sister until he noticed four Karstark soldiers harassing a woman further down the road. "What is going on here?" He asked loudly.
The Karstark soldiers sneered. "Just taking our reward for our service."
Torrhen dismounted with his thirteen other men again and they rounded on the Karstark soldiers. "In the name of our King, Robb of the House Stark I order you to release this woman." He said darkly, hand on his sword hilt. Time seemed to stop as both parties were ready to draw their weapons.
The Karstark man that had grabbed the woman was the one to break the tension. "Fuck the Starks, Fuck the King." He sneered, stabbing the girl in the back. Swords were drawn and Torrhen charged at the Karstark soldier roaring and they entered the dance of steel. He was good, Torrhen would admit, but he had fought better before and lost, that wasn't going to happen here. Torrhen looked for a weakness in his defence as he continued attacking with speed, and he saw it in his right shoulder. Feinting to the left he brought his sword around and stabbed him in the shoulder, wrenching his sword free and taking the man's arm clean off. He started howling in pain, dropping to the floor. He noticed around him the other Karstark soldiers were dead, along with three of his own. Picking up his opponents severed arm he rounded on the Karstark soldier howling and crying on the floor.
"Pick him up." Torrhen ordered, and his second in command Joran did as he was asked. "Why did you say that?" He asked darkly.
"Fuck you, fuck your brother." The Karstark man spat, earning him a hard slap across the face, with his own severed arm.
"What do you think Lord Karstark will say when he hears you've been murdering our own subjects?" Torrhen asked him.
"Your brother murdered our Lord." The Karstark soldier spat again. "Dressed it up as an execution for seeing justice done."
That was enough for Torrhen, he couldn't berate Robb in public however, and just shoved his sword deep into the Karstark soldiers belly. Feeling the life withdraw from him, Torrhen withdrew his sword and sheathed it again. "Bury our men and we'll set off straight away." He ordered. "Leave the Karstarks on the edge of the road for the crows."
Robb prayed that Torrhen's idea came off well. He was currently sat with Lord Bolton, Edmure and the Blackfish opposite a table from two Freys. "Thank you for riding here so quickly. I know travel isn't easy in these times."
"The roads are crawling with cutthroats and bandits." Black Walder told him, before adding sarcastically. "But when the King of the North summons us, we come."
"Our father has instructed us to tell you that his alliance with the North can continue if his terms are met." Lothar Frey announced. "Lord Frey requires a formal apology for your violation of your sacred oath to marry one of his daughters."
"Of course." Robb said. "He deserves as much; I was in the wrong."
"As restitution for this betrayal, he demands Harrenhal and all its attendant lands."
"I don't think that's…" Edmure began to argue, before Robb cut him off.
"We are fighting for the North. Harrenhal is not in the North." He told his uncle, turning to the Freys again he said. "It is his once the war is over and we have no further strategic need for it."
"And there's something else." Black Walder said.
"We will do whatever we can to give Lord Frey what he needs." Robb told him.
"Not what, whom." Black Walder said, turning to look at Edmure intently.
It took a moment for Edmure to register that they were looking at him. "What? No." He argued.
"Our father requires Lord Edmure to wed one of his daughters, Roslin." Lothar told them.
"How old is she?" Edmure asked.
"Nineteen."
"Could I see her first?"
"You want to count her teeth?" Black Walder mocked. "We depart for the Twins in the morning. We need an answer before we leave and a wedding not more than a fortnight thereafter or this alliance is at an end."
"Your father does realize we're in the middle of a war?" The Blackfish asked them both.
"Father is old." Lothar told them. "It will put his heart at peace if he could see her wed to a good husband."
"And his recent experience has made him wary of long engagements." Black Walder added.
"He has every right to be. Please excuse us while we discuss it." Robb asked of them, and they dutifully departed. Edmure wasn't happy at all.
"Why should I let that old ferret choose my bride for me?" He argued. "At the very least, I should be offered the same choice you were." He stood up to peer out the window. "I'm his liege lord."
"He's a proud man and we've wounded him." Robb told him.
"I didn't wound him. My answer is no." Edmure said. The Blackfish walked over to him.
"Listen to me and listen very carefully. You…"
"The laws of gods and men are very clear." Edmure cut in. "No man can compel another man to marry."
"The laws of my fist are about to compel your teeth." The Blackfish warned.
"It's all right." Robb called. "You heard him. If you refuse, our alliance with the Freys is dead."
"He's wanted me for one of his daughters since I was 12, he's not gunna stop wanting it now.
When I say no, he will come back and offer me a daughter of my choosing." Edmure told his King.
"You're willing to risk our freedom and our lives for a chance at a prettier wife?" Roose Bolton asked amused.
Robb was still trying to persuade him. "I have a war to fight. We can't win it without them and I have no time to haggle. You said you wanted to make amends for the Stone Mill." He tried.
"You recall that heroic engagement?" The Blackfish said sarcastically.
"I had something less permanent in mind." Edmure admitted, sitting back down.
"I've won every battle, but I'm losing this war." Robb told them morbidly. "If we don't do this and do it now, we're lost."
"I'll marry her." Edmure relented after a moment of quiet thought.
"You're paying for my sins, Uncle. It's not fair or right. I'll remember it." Robb told him gratefully. "Lord Bolton, please can you bring the Freys back in?"
"At once Your Grace." Bolton said, walking over to the door to usher the two Freys back in. Black Walder bumped into him on the way, unknowingly to the rest of them in the room leaving a letter in Roose Bolton's hand.
Sansa and Ser Loras were sat by a fountain talking together for the first time since the proposed betrothal had been announced, and conversation wasn't exactly flowing between the two of them.
"That's a wonderful pin." Sansa said, admiring the golden rose on his shirt.
"Oh, it's more of a brooch, really." Loras corrected. "Though I suppose a brooch is a sort of pin, so…" He trailed.
"I'm very happy about…" Sansa said to him.
"Uh, yes. I-I am as well." Loras said, trying to be convincing.
"I feel like I'm in a dream." Sansa admitted with a giggle.
"Yes, me, too. Definitely." Loras said softly. "I've dreamed of a large wedding since I was quite young, the guests, the food, the tournaments." He stopped, before noticing Sansa's look of expectation. "And the bride, of course, the most beautiful bride in the world in a beautiful gown of gold and green brocade with fringed sleeves. "Have you ever been to Highgarden, my lady?
"No. I had never left Winterfell before I came to King's Landing." Sansa told him. "But it sounds wonderful, I can't wait to see it. And to leave this place." She admitted.
"It's terrible, isn't it? The most terrible place there is." Loras said, looking into her eyes. Sansa smiled, falling deeply for the man in front of her in an instant. He stood up and offered her his hand for a walk, which she graciously accepted.
"Lady Margaery said she saw my brother Torrhen." Sansa said. "Did you meet him as well?"
Loras was surprised for a moment, before answering. "Um, yes, I did. He became good friends with the traitor Renly Baratheon." He struggled to say. "Of course he's a traitor too."
Sansa looked down sadly. "Yes, yes of course."
"The king was quite pleased when I told him I'd injured the Black Wolf." Loras said quietly to himself, realising he'd said it out loud when Sansa withdrew her arm from his.
"You injured him?"
"Oh… Yes, sorry My Lady, we fought after Renly had been killed." Loras admitted. "I assure you he is quite alright now, I was in a rage, my sister's husband had been killed and I blamed him."
"You're sure he's ok?" Sansa questioned.
"My Lady, I helped the Lady Mira patch him up. I felt terrible about my actions and wanted to make amends, hopefully I can continue doing that by being a good husband towards you." Loras flattered her, offering his hand again. Sansa was cautious but took it in the end, clinging on to every word.
As Torrhen approached the singular hill that composed of High Heart he put the nagging feelings about Robb and Lord Karstark to one side, focusing all his energy on finding his sister. He desperately hoped that the Brotherhood Without Banners were either not camped on top of the hill or were friendly. It was a terrible offensive target as the land around the hill was so flat. Defensively however it would be perfect. They had picked up tracks as they left the Inn of the Kneeling Man but they had died off about five miles back, so Torrhen and all but three of his companions made their way up to the top of the hill. Torrhen noticed they weren't following and asked them why.
"Ghosts be up there Prince Torrhen." One of them said. And that was that, they refused to even tempt fate. Leaving them to mind the horses Torrhen took the other 7 men up to the top of the hill. It was a horrible sight for Northerners to behold. Weirwood stumps littered the ground of the hill. Torrhen felt upset as he stared at the scene in front of him.
"They say that the Andal King Erreg slaughtered First Men, Children of the Forest and all kinds of beasts here." Torrhen told his companions, stepping carefully in the once miniature forest. "The Andals are a bunch of cunts."
"Isn't your mother an Andal?" Joran laughed.
"Oh yeah." Torrhen laughed. "Most Andals then."
He stepped towards the centre of the hill, and looked out beyond. It was a clear day for once, surprising for the Riverlands but from here you could see Acorn Hall to the south, followed by a couple of small mountains that was their next destination. You could also see Harrenhal in the west. Torrhen walked around a bit more with Balerion having joined him, weeping inside for the people who apparently died here, and for the Weirwoods that were butchered. Not wanting to stay any longer, Torrhen summoned his men back down the hill so they could get a good start on their way to the Hollow Hill.
"Once we find Arya, we head straight for the Twins, we may still catch my Uncle's wedding." Torrhen announced, and they left on the road going southwards. It turns out they were on the right tracks, as ten miles further down the road they spotted the same tracks as before. 'I'm coming Arya' Torrhen told himself over and over again as he forced his horse into a speedy gallop. 'I'm coming.'
Sansa was stood in her chambers trying on a dress being helped by Shae. Looking into the mirror she was staring herself up and down, seeing if she liked it or not.
"Do you think people will like it?" She asked Shae.
"I don't think they will even notice it." Shae responded.
"You're right, it's not my wedding." Sansa admitted. "Anyway, from what I can tell, the dressmakers in Highgarden will be far superior to the ones in King's Landing, they'd never make me anything as dull as this for my wedding. Loras likes green and gold brocade." She giggled.
"I'm sure he does." Shae said, bored.
"Will they let me invite my family?" Sansa asked.
"They haven't asked my opinion." Shae told her.
"But do you think they will?"
"No." Shae said, starting to take off the dress when the door opened and another handmaiden popped her head round the door.
"Lady Sansa, Lord Tyrion to see you." She said. "Should I…" She began, but Tyrion walked in anyway. Sansa turned around to face away from him as Shae reapplied her dress.
"I beg your pardon, my lady."
"Good afternoon, Lord Tyrion. I was just trying on a gown for King Joffrey's wedding." Sansa said politely, facing him once she was fully dressed again.
"Yes, it should be quite a wedding." Tyrion said slightly sarcastically. "I need to speak with you, Lady Sansa."
"Of course."
"Alone, if I may."
"Why do you need to speak to her alone?" Shae asked rudely.
"Shae." Sansa admonished. "Please excuse her, Lord Tyrion, she's not from here. But I trust her, even though she tells me not to."
"Sometimes we think we want to hear something and it's only afterwards when it's too late that we realize we wished we'd heard it under entirely different circumstances." Tyrion said.
"It's all right, really." Sansa told him.
"How to begin?" Tyrion muttered to himself. "It's- this- this- this is awkward."