Artys Arryn POV
"Little lord, may I present to you Ironoaks, seat of House Waynwood," Lord Grafton announced as the castle came into view.
Thick grey stone walls rose from the surrounding oaks, sturdy and ancient. Not as grand as the Red Keep, but it looked like it had been there forever — built to endure. Square towers flanked the gates, and Waynwood banners snapped in the wind.
Another welcome party waited at the entrance. After the shitshow on the road today, a feast sounds fucking perfect.
"WHOA! Big brother, is that your castle?" Maria asked, twisting in front of me on the horse.
I ruffled her hair. "No, mine's a little further on. We'll rest here tonight."
As we approached, the knights and retainers dropped to one knee.
"Ser Jasper," I said, nodding toward Maria, "could you help her down?"
The knight lifted her gently to the ground, then offered me a hand. Behind me, Robar Royce couldn't resist.
"Careful with the lady, Jasper. Wouldn't want her getting hurt."
Lord Royce smacked the back of his son's head. "Mind your tongue, boy."
There goes my first impression into the dustbin.
For God's sake, it's embarrassing. I get it when we are in private, but in front of House Waynwood and all these men?
"Mind your tongue, boy," Lord Royce smacked his son from behind.
"Oh, father, why did you hit me? I was just joking," Ser Robar replied with pain in his voice.
I swung down from the horse and stepped forward.
At the center stood Lady Waynwood, with her family beside her.
"Lady Waynwood, please rise," I said, offering a respectful nod.
"Forgive us for our appearance. There has been some inconvenience on the road," I added, gesturing to the dirty and blood-covered clothes.
"Lord Royce, Lord Grafton, it has been a while," Lady Waynwood said as greetings were exchanged, her eyes observing the newly arrived men and their disheveled appearances, not to mention the injuries.
They all greeted each other in turn.
"What kind of inconvenience did you all face?" Lady Waynwood asked curiously.
"We were ambushed by the hill tribes on our way, while we—" Lord Royce began.
"Can we eat now? I am hungry," Maria cut in. Suddenly, everyone was looking at her.
I should probably ask her name.
"This is one of the captives that survived. We found her on the way," Lord Royce explained.
Lady Waynwood waved a maid forward. "I'll have someone—"
A small hand grabbed mine. She tried to hide behind me like a little sister would.
What have I got myself into?
"No need. She can have a meal with us. I am hungry too," I said. I wasn't hungry, but I had a feeling I might need to raise this little one as a baby sister.
I mean, it's good PR in the realm—like Artys Arryn helps a peasant girl, or Artys the Kind, or Artys the Blessed, or whatever. It could make a good image of me across the realm.
"Of course, my lord. House Waynwood has prepared a welcoming feast in your honor and to celebrate the youngest tourney winner in the history of the Seven Kingdoms," Lady Waynwood declared happily.
"It's hardly worth your praise. Besides, it was in an archery contest, not a tourney or melee," I said modestly, trying to look noble.
"Lord Grafton, before that, please summon your men and send them with ours. We must retrieve the fallen and the supplies before the hill tribes take them," Lord Royce interjected.
"Was it that bad?" Lady Waynwood asked, looking at the massive retinue—the Arryn knights, plus Royce and Grafton men and the cooks.
"Yes, It was a big attack. We lost about twenty men. Considering the situation and the little lord's safety, we left the supplies and bodies behind to reach here as fast as we could," Lord Royce explained.
"Those bloody savages." she commented.
"Forgive me, my lords, for my language,Recently, there have been several attacks on the villages nearby. I didn't think they would be bold enough to attack you despite such a huge retinue. I will immediately gather a host of four hundred men and send my eldest son to recover the fallen heros of Vale." Lady Waynwood declared angrily.
"I will guide you to the place. Besides, I am not hungry, but my sword certainly is for more blood. Maybe on our way we could find more savages to satisfy its thirst," Lyn Corbray commented while taking his sword, Lady Forlorn, the Valyrian sword of House Corbray.
"Let's go in," I said as my stomach growled, which made everyone laugh and lightened the atmosphere.
"Yes, of course, but before that, please accept a little bit of bread and salt," She said while nodding to one of the servants who brought the bread on a plate.
Yeah, the ancient Westerosi tradition of offering bread and salt to guests this promised safe stay as long as you live in the place.
The same tradition that cost Robb his war, family, men, kingdoms, and whatnot. He was foolish enough to think the Freys would keep it.
~~~ After some time in one of the rooms of Ironoak ~~~
"Maria, now go to sleep." I tucked the girl into the bed. She was hugging a doll one of the Waynwood girls had given her.
"But big bro, I want mommy. Where is she?" she asked, her eyes watering.
I paused, not knowing what to tell her. I can't tell her her parents are no more. I don't think she even understands what death means.
"Maria… do you remember where your grandparents live?" I asked, trying to change the topic. She looked tired—if I talked her out of it, she might fall asleep soon.
"But I need mommy," she ignored my question and declared her demand. "I miss mommy."
Your mommy is dead, and probably died a very bad death. From what I remember, her mom told her that the uncles and she were just going out to play, and judging from the blood near her pelvic region, I could guess what had happened.
At least it didn't happen in front of her, judging from her cluelessness.
"First tell me where your grandparents are, then I will tell you where your mom and dad are," I said with a smile.
"Pinky promise?" she raised her pinky finger toward me.
Wait, pinky promises exist in Westeros too?
"Pinky promise." I hooked my finger with hers.
"Mommy said they have gone to meet the gods, and when I grow up, I can meet them too. There are lots of sweets there, and cute baby sheep and lots of puppies," she said with a small smile on her face, though her eyes were still wet.
I felt pity but anger too. For fuck's sake, why is this world like this?
My jaw tightened.
I had been thinking about titles, power, reputation, and of course money, but I forgot Westeros is a cruel place to live.
Someone like me, who holds such a position, might be safe from such dangers for now, but the politics of the realm will eventually touch me too and with that, its dangers.
But at least her mother made this easier for me.
"Your mommy and daddy have gone to meet your grandparents, and when you are older, I will take you there too," I said softly. I know I am lying, but that's the best I could come up with.
"But—" her voice broke.
"Wha—whaa—" tears started rolling down her eyes.
Fuck. What did I do now?
"Hey, stop crying, Maria. I am here. Your big bro is here," I said, holding her hands.
Instead of answering, she came forward and hugged me.
"Big bro, will you leave me too?" she asked, her voice desperate.
"No. No, I won't. I will be there with you," I replied instantly, without thinking.
What the fuck am I doing?
"Pinky promise," she raised her little finger again, her face tilted up, eyes red from crying.
How the hell could I say no to that face?
"Pinky promise. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow we have to go to big bro's house," I said, patting her head.
"Okay," she replied as she climbed into bed.
"Good night, big bro," she said as she pulled the quilt over her face.
As I started walking toward the door, I heard little sobs. When I looked back, it was her again, her face still hidden under the quilt.
Now I know why she stopped crying earlier. She is afraid that if she cries in front of me, I might leave her too.
"Oh, Maria, why don't big bro tell you a story?" I said, walking back toward the bed. I pulled a chair nearby and placed it beside her.
"No, I am fine. Maria can sleep without a story," she replied as she peeked out from under the quilt.
"No, you little liar. Come on, I know you want to hear a story. Let me tell you a story about a knight named Ser Duncan the Tall."
"Okay," she replied softly, wiping her tears.
POV ends
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Just to be clear. She is going to be like his little sister for the rest of the story not any romance involved at all in their relationship.