Riverrun welcomed its in-laws with a festive spirit. By the afternoon, sumptuous feasts and flowing ale had become commonplace among the tents. The South holds this distinct advantage: feeding a multitude is never an issue. A wedding in the North would have required meticulous arrangements to ensure every gear turned correctly, but in the Riverlands, things seemed to happen on their own. No one, however, spared a thought for poor Vyman, who was sweating profusely to grease the wheels of this massive circus.
Edmure mixed with the young crowd, asking them about their realms and customs. After a bout of boasting, the group decided to let off steam in the arena. Everyone began showing off their skills; even Lyanna waded in to duel her fiancé. Edmure chose Brandon as his opponent. Months ago, he had thought Brandon would be his benchmark, but his own growth had been far more explosive. He was practically untouchable, save for the kind of wide-range attacks used against castles that he couldn't simply maneuver away from.
"Do you think we're not ready for a proper fight? Enough of this nonsense and fight like a man, Tully," Robert Baratheon yelled. Edmure's fighting with Brandon had attracted his attention, as he had just fought the Blackfish, who utilized a similar style. Robert left Lyanna and lunged toward Edmure.
"I'm happy to fight a Stormlander. Just bring in an Ironborn and we've got a proper company," Edmure quipped, parrying Robert's swing while darting past Brandon. Both guests saw his speed and assumed Edmure was simply exceptionally quick on his feet. They glanced at Lyanna, who also had a knack for using swiftness to dance around opponents. She began coordinating with the two men to corner Edmure so Robert could deliver a smashing blow.
"Will he be alright?" Eddard asked Hoster while handing a pastry to Catelyn.
"The boy is a phenomenal fighter. It wouldn't matter even if all of us went in against him," Hoster smirked, showing off before his peers. Edmure had made him the proudest father among them. Jon Arryn had just praised Edmure for his tactical awareness and calm mind. "His gifts are beyond anything in our family's history."
Rickard and Jon glanced at each other. So far, the Tully performance had impressed them; at least this young house would not be a burden to their plans. Rickard wished to avenge the humiliation of a Stark kneeling before outsiders without a fight. Jon, meanwhile, preferred the idea of petty kingdoms; his realm was entirely shielded from the rest of Westeros. If the gods themselves had decreed the Vale to be isolated, why impose an unnatural unity? Jon whistled, and his nephew Elbert entered the ring. Catelyn nudged Eddard, telling him to join the fray as well.
The young nobility besieged Edmure, attacking from all angles. Unlike in his previous fights, Edmure could tell he was fighting people who had prepared for a tourney rather than for survival.
"Gentlemen, My Lady—treat this as a monster hunt, not a duel," Edmure spoke, moving at a pace unexpected for a human. He didn't want to fight unfairly using his full strength, but he saw no problem with teaching them to raise the bar of a natural fight. "It's good that you have coordination and a plan, but always expect surprises and be ready to improvise. Don't all try to hit me; even just one of you reducing my ability to fight is as good as landing a blow."
"You talk too much! I can take any Riverman down without a fuss!" Robert roared, lunging in for a massive overhead strike. The force behind it would have made even a veteran knight buckle, but Edmure deflected it casually. Robert realized his gaffe and poised himself for a longer duel. The three Stark siblings nodded to one another and moved in unison. Brandon fought from the front, while Lyanna exploited gaps at every opportunity. Eddard provided support, keeping Lyanna safe while relieving pressure off Brandon whenever possible. Elbert and Robert saw the Starks faring better and caught their breath before joining Brandon's assault.
For ten minutes, the group tried to box Edmure in, but they failed. "How are we supposed to beat you like this?" Lyanna asked, her frustration mounting. The boys, however, only felt their blood pumping faster. A primal thirst for the hunt began to take over their calm minds. Eddard found himself overwhelmed trying to protect the team, and the others began fighting recklessly—like hunters willing to die just to deliver a wound to a predator as a final act of defiance.
"Don't just use your sword; use your entire body, the arena, the environment itself is a weapon. Are you going to cry because you can't hit a dragon with a blade? No, you hunt the beast down no matter what," Edmure said, pushing away Eddard's shield bash and throwing Elbert off his feet. "Dorne showed this at the cost of great retaliation. If you're out of your depth, prefer ranged attacks; at least then you don't have to risk your body. Maybe someone else will do the job for you."
"It was a good fight; it was my honor to face the next generation of Westeros. Let's stop for now." Amidst the group's refusal to end the bout, Edmure simply leapt out of the arena. The distance he covered in a single jump made everyone realize he hadn't been joking when he called himself a monster.
Edmure landed where Hoster and the other lords were standing. Habitually, he tried to take a seat at their table, but Hoster interrupted him. "Get out of here; you are many decades too young to share a table with us."
"I thought we could have been friends like Lord Lefford— remember the Group of Lords of Westeros," Edmure cheekily replied, leaving to sit near Catelyn.
"The boy is promising, Hoster. Why don't we reward him?" Rickard spoke up.
"Thank you, Lord Stark," Edmure said before Hoster could answer, pulling himself up. Catelyn snickered at her brother's behavior as the rest of the group from the arena approached. "I hope the custom of the bedding ceremony is canceled for tomorrow's wedding. What would the world say—that the all-powerful Edmure couldn't even ensure his sister had an easy time on her wedding night? Let's follow the age-old custom of the nobility: Between us, fists reveal the truth. If anyone wants to challenge me on this, I'm ready, but I won't be as civil as I was just now. Lord Lannister has already experienced how I conduct business. For me, family comes first, then duty and honour."
The group stayed silent. Bedding was a staple of marriage customs—the couple disrobed by guests of the opposite gender while being carried to the bedchamber. Not wanting to spoil the mood, everyone simply nodded, though many thought they would try it anyway once the ceremony began.
"As a second reward, I hope my father reduces the tax on our vassals and demesne by five percent for the next year in honor of this union with the Starks. I hope that, just like us, families across the Trident will experience joyous unions and safe childbirths. I believe they will send their blessings to Catelyn and Eddard."
Edmure's second request was a standard boon. Jon Arryn nodded unconsciously; like Hoster, he too had lost a wife in childbirth. He marveled at Edmure's weight within the Tully family as he saw Hoster agree without a second thought. The crowd began to disperse, and Edmure followed the gang of young nobles, leaving Catelyn and Eddard behind to their own company.