There were times (not many, but there were) when Catelyn dreamed to go back to her childhood home, Riverrun. The first time she had those dreams was when she arrived at Winterfell only to find the bastard already living in the castle. The last time, was when she was at the Eyrie, learning about the raiders plaguing the Riverlands.
It had been a sweet dream. In there, she was a girl of ten playing in her mother's garden, waiting for her lord father who had ridden off to court or battle. "Watch for me, little cat," her father would always tell her.
That seemed to be the story of her life. Men asking her to wait. Her father, Brandon, Ned… Oh Ned.
She returned to the present when the small boat ferrying her across the Tumblestone came near the Water Gate. Robb was in front with Grey Wind by his side. Theon Greyjoy was right behind.
The rowing men slowed their pace and eventually stopped as they waited for the great iron portcullis to open. Catelyn saw how rusted the iron was and thought to ask some of her son's engineers if they could reinforce it or outright replace it. War was oft in her mind these days.
They passed through the arch and once in sunlight again, she saw her brother. He was in the water stairs together with a raven haired young man not much older than her Robb, Lucas Blackwood she was later told. Her fath- her brother's guards were to the sides, all of them looked battered with their armor scratched or dented, and all of them stood proud and radiant in the colors of House Tully.
They reached the shore and were pulled in by men under his brother's orders. Robb and Grey Wind got off first. Theon vaulted over the boat next and lifted Catelyn by the waist, setting her dry on the stairs.
Her son had come with the news of Lord Hoster's demise, "You shouldn't be alone mother," he said. And so, he accompanied her all the way to Riverrun. Her Robb had always been a kind boy.
Her brother came down to receive her. "Cat," he whispered before embracing her. Only then, she saw how tired he looked. His blue eyes lacked the playfulness she remembered of him, he was bandaged in the arms and neck. She did her absolute best to not implode in tears right there.
"We'll make them pay Cat. I swear it. We'll have our vengeance."
Catelyn broke apart. "Will that bring Ned or Father back to us?" she said sharply. Edmure clenched his jaws, hurt hidden behind his eyes.
She was hurt, the wound was still fresh. She wanted to crumble and wept and fall apart… until Catelyn saw her son. Sweet, kind Robb put on a strong face for her. It was then that she shook off the cobwebs in her mind. She was a mother still, and the seven hells would freeze before she lets her boy be strong for her. Catelyn swallowed the lump in her throat. Be strong.
"I'm sorry Ed," she whispered. "You've suffered this war just as much as me." Because of me.
Both took a moment to compose themselves. Edmure offered his arm, "Come with me Cat. We must see Father."
The sept was amidst her mother's gardens. The flowers and trees were just as beautiful as she remembered. "Father has servants dedicated only to the gardens," her brother said. "Even with the war approaching… and even under siege, it seems."
Crossing the arch of the sept, Catelyn stopped in place. Her father laid in a briar with sculptures of the Seven around him. Sunlight poured through the windows but shadows were maliciously clinging to Lord Hoster's figure.
"I wanted to place him in the great hall," said Edmure. "But thought better of it. Our lady mother was also placed here, and Father… he missed her so much, I thought he'd prefer to be close to his lady wife."
"I think so too, you did well Edmure," Catelyn whispered. She couldn't remember much of her mother, only her soft hands and warm smile, and how much her father longed for her.
For a while, they stood in silence. Her father looked nothing like in her memories. Catelyn remembered him tall and broad shouldered, getting portly as he grew older. The man in the briar looked brittle and fleshless. His hair and beard were brown and grey in her memories. Now they were white as snow. What madness took over him to lead a sortie?
"It was my fault," muttered Edmure. "Had I not been useless and won against the Kingslayer, Father would still be with us."
"Don't say that Ed." Catelyn gave him a side hug. If anyone is to blame, is me.
"But it's true. Had I won or at managed to retreat to Riverrun…"
The words died in Edmure's throat. Catelyn hugged her brother as fiercely as she could. I seized the dwarf. This, was my doing.
The words didn't leave her mouth. She couldn't say it. It was too hard. A truth too painful to admit to anyone but herself. First Ned, and then my father. Will it stop here? What of my daughters, what of my sons.
Catelyn couldn't say the words, and she hated herself for it.
"Ed, tell me about our lord father. Tell me of his last words," she said instead.
Her brother took a moment before answering, "He… he said he was proud of me, of you and of Lysa. He was happy to see uncle Brynden again. He was doubly happy when he met your son. He… died with a smile on his face, in peace, as if the illness that plagued him was no more."
Edmure explained parts of the siege, it seemed to distract him.
Lord Tytos Blackwood took charge of the Riverrun defenses after her brother was captured. The Lannisters weren't able to assault the walls for a while, they couldn't properly cross the rivers without the defenders sinking their rafts nor could they properly arrow down the defenders. It was just recently that they built siege towers and, even then, the Riverrun catapults were able to topple one.
"For the first days, Lord Tytos didn't let them get an inch on him," Edmure said. "A few days later, riders, survivors of the Green Fork, arrived. I thought the lions would retreat, and I was steeling my mind to be a prisoner at Casterly Rock. The Kingslayer had other plans."
The Lannister host sent wave after wave of attacks with renewed vigor. And wave after wave, the defenders held. It was just the day before when a big change happened.
"They were able to dry the moat and filled part of it as a bridge. A siege tower spearheaded the attack, Lord Tytos was able to repel the attack but succumbed to his wounds before the afternoon ended. It was then, the steward told me, when father armored himself and took command of the walls. The maester gave him milk of the poppy diluted in wine to make him stand. And then… he saw the attack and commanded a cavalry charge…"
Catelyn could see it clear as day in her mind. Lord Hoster's fragility hidden under his silver plate, roaring orders, riding and fighting one last time. She swallowed her tears, she didn't have the right to cry. This was her doing.
They left the sept soon after. Her lord father's final rites were to be conducted on the seventh day after his passing, the Tully bannermen were invited and Robb and Edmure wanted to conduct a council with everyone present.
There were things her son wanted to learn before. Catelyn and Edmure went to meet him in a rarely used hall close to the main one. Lord Umber, Lord Karstark, Ser Brynden and Grey Wind were with Robb when they arrived. "Well met, my lady, my lord," the Greatjon said.
"Mother, Lord Edmure" Robb said. Voice nor face betraying how he felt. "I summoned the commander of the Kingslayer's east camp, he should be arriving soon. Please, have a seat."
Lord Umber was about to say something, but a quick glance from her son silenced him. Catelyn acted as if she hadn't noticed.
Ser Wylis entered the room soon after. After his salute, he said: "We have the early counts for the battle, my lords. Three thousand lions surrendered themselves. Five thousand are either death or scattered after our attack. However, the Kingslayer led the retreat of the northern camp with four thousand foot and around two thousand horse. Lord Mallister and Ser Jammos are keeping scouts on their tails."
If Lord Karstark was pleased with the results he didn't show. Lord Umber seemed like he want to celebrate, but thought better of it. Her son just nodded.
"Thank you for your inquiries, my lord," said Robb. "Join us Ser Wylis, I believe we'll learn something interesting today."
Catelyn wanted the Imp and Ser Kevan Lannister for questioning, but they were held in the Twins with four hundred northmen under Ser Helman Tallhart. Mayhaps it was for the best, Catelyn didn't know what she would do if she saw the dwarf today.
A few minutes later the guards announced Ser Forley Prester. The man was bald, short and burly, with a grizzled brown beard. Ser Forley had a blackened eye and his right arm was bandaged. Even injured, he was escorted by a man on each side.
Robb was sitting right in front of the man, gently petting his direwolf. As per her son's orders, no one said anything. Apparently it was something the bastard had told him. "The first to talk loses" she was told.
Ser Forley bowed. "My lord, what happened to Lord Eddard Stark was a disgrace. You have my condolences." Grey Wind growled. Ser Forley blanched.
"Grey Wind," Robb commanded lazily and the direwolf went back to rest. "I appreciate your sentiment ser. I just want to make some questions, if answering any of my questions should dishonor you, say so, and we'll pass over it."
The old knight kept stealing glances out of Grey Wind, but accepted.
Ser Forley confirmed what Edmure told her, survivors from the Green Fork discarded their armor and swam across to arrive at their camp. How the Kingslayer redoubled the efforts to take Riverrun after hearing the news. "The Starks have a long march to the Ruby Ford still. We'll take Riverrun and crush them on the field," the Kingslayer had said. Then, a raven from Lord Tywin came and the Kingslayer promised lofty rewards and the assault continued with renewed fervor.
Robb dismissed Ser Forley and turned his eyes on them. "I believe we all can agree. Lord Tywin and his son are as spiteful as they are prideful."
The men in the room grunted in acknowledgement.
"Lord Tywin still has some four thousand horse under his command," Ser Brynden said. "He'll sent raiders to pillage and burn, I'm sure."
Catelyn wanted to mention that Galbart Glover's army would stop Lord Lannister's attempts, but she didn't know much of war, so she kept quiet.
The men started talking between themselves, but Robb silenced the hall with a hand raise.
"First we'll hear what our prisoners have to say before deciding how to act. I don't want to be rash, my lords."
The lords were mollified and they only had to wait a bit for the next prisoner to be announced.
The prisoner was a tall man with grizzled blonde hair and a well kept beard. When he stopped, Catelyn could see his stern eyes scan the room. Lord Leo Lefford stood straight as a rod trying to look calm, but the way he kept looking at Grey Wind from time to time, betrayed him.
Robb kept petting his wolf with a calm look on him.
"Kill me if you must, my lord," Lord Leo said through gritted teeth. "Make it fast and clean, for I'm still a highborn lord."
Robb looked disgusted and narrowed his eyes, "My father never executed prisoners, nor shall I."
Lord Lefford let out a sigh, his whole face saying he didn't believe her son's words. No one else in the room tried to talk.
"I would sooner die than surrender the Golden Tooth," Lord Leo said, gaze firm.
Grey Wind stood and growled menacingly. Robb kept him by his side with a silent command.
"We are in luck then," said Robb with ice in his voice. "As I'm not asking you to do so. Before you insult me more than you've already had and I'm forced to act, you'll answer my questions."
Lord Lefford seemed hesitant for a moment, but accepted in the end.
"Who did Lord Tywin tasked with raiding the Riverlands?" asked Robb.
This, everyone knew, Lord Lefford shouldn't be reluctant to answer.
"Ser Gregor Clegane, my lord," Lord Lefford said with a confused face.
Robb nodded. "In absence of Ser Gregor, who would Lord Tywin sent?"
This, to Catelyn knowledge, was not something Lord Lefford should be reluctant to answer. Commander's names weren't oft a secret to keep.
"Ser Amory, my lord," Lord Lefford said with a more relaxed posture. "There was a sellsword too, Vargo Hoat was his name."
The nobles in the room shuffled and looked at one another.
"Tell me Lord Lefford," said Robb. "Why did Lord Tywin chose Ser Gregor as raider?"
"Because the Mountain and his ilk are more beasts than men," the Westerlander noble coldly said. "The curs were the vanguard in the Green Fork," the lord started grinding his teeth. "Our wing was ready to buckle and I was waiting for reinforcements or the retreat order when the Mountain led a retreat cutting everyone in his way and, in turn, encasing me to the river."
Lord Lefford was simmering in anger recounting that part.
Next, Robb questioned him about supplies, the Westerlander was less open on the subject and didn't disclose much. After a few more pointed questions, her son dismissed him.
"Tywin's beast will continue stealing and slaughtering my people," Edmure said sourly.
"Galbart Glover will keep him in check from the south, my lord," said Lord Umber. "After we retake your castles, we'll send the army south."
Jon Umber made a subtle insult, Catelyn was inclined to think it was unintentional from his part. Just the blunt northern way of speaking.
"Lord Bolton is marching through the Red Fork already," Catelyn quickly said. "The Freys joined him and they are retaking castle after castle on their way to Riverrun. I'm confident more Trident lords will join forces with both Lord Bolton and Master Glover."
Robb gave her an imperceptible nod in thanks. "I doubt we'll learn much more today my lords. I have a trustworthy man learning everything he can from the lowborn prisoners."
Lords Umber and Karstark seemed pleased at the last part. It was a misunderstanding. Catelyn knew who her son's 'trustworthy man' was, and knew his methods. They were anything but what the northern lords thought.
The lords left the hall one by one until only her and Robb remained.
"My bannermen were displeased when I announced there would be no prisoner executions."
"It was a good decision Robb," she took his hand in support. Executing their prisoners while the Lannisters still held her daughters was madness.
"They say it makes us look weak-"
"It makes you look lawful. Besides, you already defeated both the father and the son in battle." And gods above, she was thankful her son was unscathed through it, but it was time for peace.
Robb relaxed in his chair, "Yes mother, but they are half right."
Catelyn felt cold dread in her stomach.
"We can't let this… this atrocity remain unanswered. I have ideas but It'll have to wait for the council after you lord father's funeral. The Lannisters will beg for peace, this I swear."
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There were no other time in my life, both lives, when I felt more alone than now.
Everything felt like a haze. In all honesty, I wanted to just lie down for a long, long time. But I could not. My sisters were still out there, under the same fucking idiots who murdered Father. So I forced myself to move.
There are very few things I know of mental health. One of those is that I should be processing events at my own pace, but there was no time to do the healthy thing.
So I chose to move from objective to objective, that's how soldiers in active duty do it, or so I heard. I reviewed my objectives and came up with a list of them. This new found purpose should keep me going, at least until I got my sisters back.
The second thing I could recall about keeping myself moving, was that I needed to surround myself with people. Something about humans being social animals by nature.
So I tried to always be by someone's side, be they Hatten, the Mormonts or Karstark.
I still felt lonely.
Everyone in the host felt Father's murder. And everyone, had either words or quiet encouragement for me, some of it real, some performative. I couldn't stand it.
Every word given, every quiet nod or look… they all felt like poking the wound.
The host stopped for the day. We were getting close to the crossroads, at most two days of march would see us there. After Galbart Glover's meeting. I thought it was time to strike out the first objective of my list.
We were lacking in information. We needed to know as much as possible of Tywin's leftover army and plans. All the information at hand, we gathered by taking down ravens or by questioning our prisoners.
The questionings became more and more heavy handed. I was too numb to stop them at first, but when they took a simple cobbler who was a camp follower for the Lannisters, something in me snapped.
I appealed to my Father's memory, of his honor, of his views. Galbart Glover told me it was necessary to get reliable information, I explained how torture is not effective at information gathering. Galbart remained unconvinced, looking at me as if I was but a dumb boy who doesn't understand how the world moves.
Unwilling to let him torture innocent smallfolk, I took a new role in the army. I became the army's 'questioner', at least until, according to Ser Donnel, I prove my methods ineffective and someone else takes the position from me. In normal circumstances, I would never have gotten the role, but thankfully I had backers.
"Back in the Moat," Dacey said in the meeting. "I asked Jon if he was confident enough in the northern infantry stopping Lannister cavalry to command them in the field," she paused, "we all know the results."
"So far we learned much from the Lannister soldiers," Harrion Karstark said. "He is marching to Harrenhal to give us battle, or to Maidenpool to sack it, or to King's Landing to raise an army, or to the Westerlands like the craven he is" he shrugged. "Does anyone in this tent believe anything other than what Robett Glover already told us? I say let Jon do the questionings, mayhaps he'll find something we can use."
After that night, three days had passed. Hatten helped me set up a tent on the outskirts of the camp. Up to now, I was able to identify some criminals with the basics I knew of interrogation.
Lowborn rapists and killers were hanged and Galbart Glover was somewhat placated thanks to it.
The issue of reliable information wasn't solved, however. Which is why today was special, I was starting to work on finding reliable information.
"Hatten, don't let anyone in," I said. "Ghost, come. I need you."
I entered the tent. The man restrained in a chair flinched when he heard me.
"Ser Amory," I drawled. "Today we'll learn very useful things."
I grabbed a chair, turned it backwards and sat down facing the knight, Ghost resting by my side.
Of all the Kings the Starks defeated to become the uncontested Kings in the North, the Warg Kings were specially tricky. They were abnormally good at uncovering hidden plots and strategies. It is said, that if the Warg Kings captured an enemy, they would know everything the poor sod knew. Maester Luwin speculated that these kings were methodical and sadistic torturers able to break even the most leal of men.
I didn't believe that, mostly because I know how unreliable torture is.
What I believe is the answer, is in Lord Reed's book. In there, there was a story that didn't quite fit with the rest. While every other story in the book was about skinchangers and their exploits, this particular story was about a castle, specifically a tower in said castle.
The story describes the tower as dark and dreary, made of black stone. Shadows clung to the tower from all sides, no tree nor anything green grew around it, as if the tower was antithetical to life itself. Smallfolk rarely spoke of the tower, and when they did, it was only in hushed tones, "No secret can escape the lord, not in that tower," they said. Enemies of the castle's lord were taken to the tower, never to see the light of day ever again. The only proof of their continued survival were the nightmare-inducing screams breaking the night.
It didn't have much to do with skinchanging, or so I thought when I first read the story. My hunting sessions with Ghost were the final clue. When I slip my consciousness on my albino friend, I get some of his memories back.
With that final piece of the puzzle, I had a hypothesis, albeit with a big issue. According to the story, skinchanging into a man to 'read' his mind, ends up with the test subject ruined. Which is why, Ser Amory Lorch was a gift of the gods. After all, he was a man so despicable, so depraved that the world would immediately be brighter after his demise. Besides, thanks to him being a monster in human skin, I had less moral qualms to use him as a test subject. Yes, Amory Lorch was the perfect subject for this experiment.
I readjusted the knight's gag. I didn't want people talking about a 'black tent' or some nonsense.
"I wonder what secrets I'll find from that filthy head of yours, ser." Amory started shaking his head. "Ah, I think you misunderstand, ser, I won't torture you." The knight calmed down. "Torture, is highly ineffective. The victim will sing whatever song if it spares them the pain. No, what I want is the truth, and you shall provide it."
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A/N: A bit dark innit? Also the Mountain lives!
Next week I'm fixing the schedule (it's still supposed to be on Fridays, lol).
Your comments, give them to me! ( ⚈ワ⚈)