Lord Stark’s reasons
Kingslanding; Crownlands; fourth moon of 98 AC
Roderick Blackwood
Roderick Blackwood, or Black Rick as he was known in the Riverlands, rode his horse down the kingsroad as if his life depended on it, which could've been the case as the King was very adamant about his need of House Blackwood.
The North was causing waves, and the King needed someone knowledgeable about the Old Ways to help him understand and manage the land in ascension that was the northmost part of Westeros. House Blackwood was the only House out of the North that kept to the Old Ways, which followed the Old Gods and the first men's traditions, but House Blackwood unlike the Northerners, were players of the game, although in a more "honest" way than most;
As he rode through the lush landscape of the southern Riverlands, Roderick realized he had gone through more than half of his journey and wisely decided to rest at an Inn at the crossroads, or Two Crowns as it was named after King Jaehaerys and Queen Alyssane spent a night there. The Inn was cozy and well-maintained, mainly because many Vale and Riverlands knights and petty Lords used it often as a resting point before arriving in Kingslanding.
As Roderick entered the Inn, his nose was assaulted by a powerful smell of something tasty being cooked; he looked around and saw many knights, lords, and their wives with their children sitting about happily talking as they waited for something; Roderick realized something unusual was going on, some lords had "banners" belonging to houses whose seat of power went as far as the fingers, Roderick carefully approached the innkeeper and placed a silver stag in the counter
" Dornish red?" Roderick asked
" Nay m'lord, the dornish drinks ain't sold here; M'lord Darry forbids it," The Innkeeper began as he leaned closer " 'is lord father and nuncle fell on the marchers." The innkeeper whispered, and Roderick nodded
" What do you have?" Roderick asked
" Arbor red, Buterwell red, and Silver Wine from the North… the last one can kill a Horse!" The innkeeper said, and Roderick raised his eyebrows
" Is that so? Silver Wine it is… it might as well help me sleep quicker." Rodrick said as he laughed, " Tell me, goodman, is something special going on? Why are there so many Vale and Riverland lords and knights here?" Roderick asked as the Innkeeper grabbed a bottle of Silver Wine and pored in a mug for him
" The Inn's owner is Lord Darry's youngest brother, a landed Knight; he recently married the Seasnake's bastard niece; those knights and Lords are returning home from the wedding and decided to stay here for the night. Probably due to the mammoth meat we are cooking today." The innkeeper said
"Mammoth meat? How did a landed knight get gold to pay for that? The Northerners rarely sell those, and when they do, they usually sell them in Driftmark at a ridiculously high price…" Roderick asked, his eyebrows almost touching his hair, as not even House Blackwood that had sand trade deals with Skagos could buy mammoth meat when they tried, not due to the lack of gold but due to lack of mammoth meat available.
" I know not; Ser Darry might have an idea, but he ain't here," the innkeeper said, and Roderick nodded dumbly
"Is there mammoth meat still?" Roderick asked
" For the right price, aye." The innkeeper answered
" How much?" Roderick asked
"2 gold dragons," The Innkeeper said, and Roderick almost coughed
" What? Two gold dragons? That could buy a house and a few chickens on Blackwood lands…" Roderick said
" Ser Darry set the price, m'lord; I just sell it." The innkeeper said, and Roderick nodded as he handed the man two gold dragons and one more silver stag
" I'll get some mammoth meat, and I'll also get a room for the night and some food for my horse outside," Roderick said, and the innkeeper nodded; Roderick finally decided to try the so-called Silver Wine, and soon as the liquid touched his lips he could feel how strong the drink was
" By the old gods!" Roderick managed to say in between coughs; he looked at his mug with a curious eye, " Kill a horse indeed."
A few more minutes passed, and the Innkeeper and the inn maids began serving the mammoth meat simultaneously to everyone who bought it.
Roderick had never eaten such tasteful meat; whatever they put in the meat gave it a taste so flavorful that Roderick felt everything he had eaten before was waste of the lowliest kind. Roderick looked around and saw that every single Lord and Lady that ordered the food had the same opinion; Roderick only felt bad for the children of the said Lords and Ladies; average food was simply ruined for them… it was like having your first time with a Lyseni whore and then having to marry an old Ironborn woman, it was just sad.
Roderick spent a few more hours in the inn's "tavern" before he decided to rest for the night; he had to get to Kingslanding soon.
Roderick woke up the following day feeling unusually well-rested, a blessing from the Old Gods in his opinion. He grabbed his belongings and departed to Kingslanding a few minutes after sunrise.
Winterfell; The North; fourth moon of 98 AC
The cold wind of the North whistled as it passed through Winterfell and Wintertown. The now third-biggest settlement in The North at any time was probably one of the best places for someone to live in the North, mostly thanks to the mage in Winterfell. The Houses were now better protected against the cold, and there was work to be done at all times, be it tending the farms, building the roads, mining in the mountains, hunting in the Wolfswood, and mainly creating goods for trade. The townsguard protected the big town against thieves and other criminals efficiently, using a mix of foot and mounted soldiers, a model copied from the city in Skagos. The trading squares in the town had many items from different places, many from other areas within The North, but some from places as far as Braavos and Lorath or Dorne and Pentos, brought to the town by merchants who safely traveled through the protected Northern roads.
The northern common folk were highly content with their newfound prosperity, and they worked hard every day to keep said prosperity with them, and that mentality of no-nonsense and finding honor in doing your work would keep The North strong for ages to come.
Benjen Stark smiled as he saw his castle; Winterfell has always been a majestic structure, the beacon of hope for those fighting against the harsh winter, and more recently so, the heart of an ever-growing town. The North changed much in the last five years, all good changes in Benjen's not-so-humble opinion. Benjen would die and leave The North for his son in a better state than it had ever been, and Benjen was sure his future grandson would inherit a North in an even better condition than that.
As Benjen read through the report of the other "court mages" around the north, a rare smile appeared on his face; the glasshouses given by Lord Dovahkiin to every lord in the North were a godssend and something every single Lord in the North- including a reluctant Lord Bolton and Whitehill- showed their gratitude for that act alone for the glasshouses provided exotic kinds of food for the Northern nobility something all lords were happy for.
Benjen put down the mages report as a brown Owl entered his solar with a letter on its beak; Benjen slowly grabbed it and began reading the letter from his son, who was fostering in Skagos to further up the chances of him wooing Lady Lynara.
The boy's letter was fun to read; he wrote about the Ice Dragons and about magic and how he was a "prodigy" at ice destruction magic but was a little better than average in every other kind of magic; he wrote about how good Lord Dovahkiin was with an axe and sword and how good he was becoming under his tutelage, how an Old Mage taught his Lordly lessons and how his studies about the Old Gods were conducted by a child of the forest and many other things about the "extremely fun" Winterhold. Benjen smiled once he finished reading the letter and began writing a letter of his own to his eldest son; the smile never left his face, and when his wife entered his solar, she looked beautiful with a radiant smile on her face
" My love, you look happy. Did something happen?" Lysa Stark said with a pleasant tone in her voice
" Rickon sent a letter… life in Skagos seems funny if you are a child. Did you know he's learning about the Old Gods from a Child of the Forrest?" Benjen said to which Lysa went completely gobsmacked with her jaws hanging low.
" You jest? a Child of The Forrest? I thought Lord Dovahkiin was jesting when he said he had over 50 of them living in Skagos," Lysa said, " He laughed after he said it!" She added after Benjen gave her a skeptical look
" He probably laughed at your reaction… you probably went as gobsmacked as you went when I told you about Rickon learning from them." Benjen said, and Lysa huffed, her face red with embarrassment, which made Benjen laugh
" My love!" She reprehended
" I am sorry, my lady. Your presence brings joy in my life, especially as you look as beautiful as the day we met." Benjen said, and Lysa blushed at the completely unexpected compliment
'Still got it,' Benjen thought as he saw her red face.
" I thought you were still upset about having to go to Kingslanding for the tournament in honor of the King's 50 years of ruling," Lysa said with her face still red, and Benjen let out a long sight
" I was not upset; it's just an annoying situation altogether; having to go to Kingslanding for a tournament is not something I planned on doing; however, it would be an excellent opportunity to show our loyalty to the King, and that the king is friendly with the North, that should stop a good number of those plotting against us," Benjen said, and Lysa's eyebrows raised slightly
" Why would we need to show loyalty to the King? Your ancestors swore under a heart tree, and as the saying goes, 'There has never been a Stark that forgot his oath.' There shouldn't be a need for you to ride down to Kingslanding just to repeat it," Lysa said, and Benjen nodded
" The southerners are too interested in our newfound prosperity, like the vultures they are, they seek to pray in the weak, the North's relationship with the South is everything but strong, our oath to the Targaryen is everything that keeps the North under the Iron Throne… that and dragons," Benjen said, and Lysa nodded
" The only bad thing about this whole thing is having to endure the fucking Vale people! False Knights with shallow vows to fake gods. I think I'll ask Mors Umber to fight in the melee to show those statue worshipers how a follower of the true gods fights." Benjen says with a small smile on his face.
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A/N: Hello there! Look who's back! It's me Mario!
So this is a small chapter just to show I'm back.
Next chapter should be longer.
Happy New Year!!