[h1][b][color=#B3B3B1][center]Winterfell[/center][/color][/b][/h1]

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The alien sensation of doubt sat like a stone in Edric's stomach. For so many years of his life he had simply done as he wished, disregarding consequences in favor of his own desires. He was young, rash and as mercurial as a wild son of the North should be. But no longer was he simply a son of his beloved Kingdom. Now he was its highest lord, the lives of millions in his hands. From the Neck to the Gift, from Bear Island to Skagos, his decisions would bring about repercussions for all of them. So much rested on his shoulders in such a dire time for the wolves of Winterfell.

But he could not be passive. His lords would not accept, nor would he. For hundreds of years the North had sat dormant, isolated and foreign from the Seven Kingdoms. Now was the time of the wolf, with blood drenching the realm and cold winter winds rising. He rose from the sturdy oak desk with sat proud in his chambers, kicking back the fine chair he had been sitting in during his contemplation. If he was to declare for anybody, he would need his lords behind him and a path down south. While it would be weeks for his lords to arrive in bulk once he sounded his call, securing his passage would be quicker.

It took him but a few moments to slide on his leather gloves and pin on the thick, black woolen cloak which so many of his kin had taken to in times of brisk Northern cold. The days of summer were fleeting, as House Stark's words would always remind him. The gust of chilled wind which brushed against his bearded face only reinforced this. The impending snows would only push forward how important quick action would be. Subconsciously, he found it pushing forward his own pace as he sought out the one woman he required.

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He felt foolish, having looked for her anywhere else. Since he was seven years old he had watched his aunt feather target after target with arrows. Hell, he had joined her many a time, as had all those who had spent their early days within Winterfell's walls. He paced along the raised wooden pathways which surrounded the courtyard, eyes zeroing in on the fiery haired lady whom had claimed his uncle for a husband. His cousin, young Alys was with her, no doubt practicing her skills under her mother's watchful eye. She was a good, he knew. Probably better than he was with a bow.

Her skill helped soothe any quarrels he may have had in ending their session early. The lord leaned forward against the railing, strands of his wild mane hanging across his face as he did so. Sucking in a breath of frosty air, he called out towards the two females from across the yard just as an arrow saw fit to fly from his cousin's bow.

"Don't miss!"

Unsurprisingly, the shot did not ring true as the distraction had veered the two’s attention elsewhere— the disapproving scowl on the Alys’ young face as she realized [i]who[/i] had caused such distraction to her person. Had she not been trained to know better she probably would’ve thrown her shortbow down in a huff. She however was not so composed to resist the urge to shout across the courtyard at her kinsmen.

[b][i] “Edric! Why you—”[/i][/b]

The outburst was cut short by the presence of Laerra’s hand on her shoulder. “He did say not to miss.”

Edric couldn't help but allow a laugh to bellow from his upturned lips. He always did love messing with Alys. Her temper was almost as bad as his own and watching her huff always amused him. He was quick in standing straight and making for the stairs which led down from the observer platform so he could better interact with his family. The sly grin on his face didn't fade much in the time it took him to reach them across the courtyard. A gloved hand quickly reached for Alys' head to ruffle her thick auburn locks.

"All that shooting won't do you any good if loud noises make you miss, will it?" He teased, grey eyes drifting from the smaller to the larger of the duo. It was as if simply looking upon Laerra had dulled the small bits of joy which punctuated his worry. Not for for the woman herself, but what was to come. He did his best in masking this.

"I'll need your mother for a few moments," He piped again, briefly gazing to Alys and gesturing towards the courtyard's exit. "Go warm up in the hall. Skinny lass like yourself can't be doing too well in this chill."

“Fine.” The younger Stark retorted as she immediately went to straighten her hair as she walked off. Her attitude was clearly brazen, so much that it was so very reminiscent of when Laerra first walked in the halls of Winterfell— being adamant as she refused to be “tamed” by a wolf. A time that had felt so long ago in retrospect.

Laerra let out a light laugh. “So you need me, is it?”

Edric waited for Alys to leave earshot, looking around for a good couple seconds. It was fairly empty, aside from an occasional servant passing along the edges of the yard and the sentries. None would hear what he would say, he was confident, but Laerra herself. 

"The war down south is growing worse. There won't be a peaceful solution, not as far as I can see," he began, features sharpening as the tone was set. "We can't remain neutral anymore. Tyget Crakehall came to our aide when nobody else would; I mean to declare for him."

“You mean to declare for [i]Tyget[/i]? Interesting choice, but I suppose with that betrothal you feel like you have a responsibility to do so.”

"He sailed a fleet North and helped us toss the Ironborn back into the sea. He burnt Pyke to ruins for their transgressions. No Tyrell man would dare help us like that." Edric was quick to note, upon hearing his aunt's disapproval.

"My father saw fit to promise Edwyn to his daughter. One day, our houses will be bound by blood, just as House Tully is. If the Trident was to come under siege, the swords of the North would be drawn just as quickly, as they had years ago."

“And what if House Tully favors flowers over pigs? Would you drive northmen swords through the throats of my family and people? ” She sighed as she leaned on a nearby wooden railing, her eyes expressing a sorrowful regret; Edric could tell she was anxious and fearful. “My apologies, Edric. I’ve had a lot on my mind with the crisis in the south and word of problems beyond The Wall. It seems like we’re beginning to descend back into chaos and I fear there is no way to stop it. My brother, Riaon, is Lord Paramount now and his sister a member of the Kingsguard. Uncle Manrel as well as Arthas Mallister sit on the Small Council. It would not take much of a push to lead my brother to the hands of the Tyrell’s. For these houses to attempt to make fish and wolf their playthings is foreboding, I think. Tyget is a ruthless man— he will try to force it.”

Edric's expression softened as Laerra expressed her own doubts. She could afford to do so, unlike himself. A leader couldn't doubt his own decisions, no matter how much he felt unsure. No man would follow a leader like that. 

"I don't like this anymore than you, aunt Laerra. The last thing I want is sending Northern men to die in a southron war. But it is not our way to sit idly by, nor spurn a man who helped us in our hour of need during his own." He paused for a moment, casting a gaze towards the sky. The southern sky.

"I mean to send you south in my stead. I will call my lords to Winterfell in the coming days and if all goes well, their banners. I need you to speak reason to my uncle. When House Mudd saw fit to drive him and his from Riverrun, did the Tyrells rush to his aide? No. The Tyrells are a scheming lot, who only seek out others when they see fit to gain from it."

"If he wishes neutrality, it is within his right to have it. But passage through the Trident is paramount. Do you think he will listen?"

“He will listen if he hasn’t made up his mind— there are many years apart between him and I, but I do not hold much sway with him as I left when he was still quite young.” She took a heavy breath. “He would prefer to talk to you directly, that I know— another Lord Paramount showing his intentions and speaking with him will at least show a respect others have not given and that [i]should[/i] mean something. But what will you do if he sides with House Tyrell? I need to know this if I am to send a raven to tell him to delay any definite conclusions he is making. I need to know The Trident and The North will not come to become enemies where they spill each others blood. I need your word on that.”

"I had feared as much." Edric remarked with a sigh. It would not do well for him to ride south while calling his men, but if it did any good in calling Riaon Tully to his side it may have been required. It was Laerra's ending words which struck him like a bolt. It was a real possibility, if the Riverlords rallied behind the Reach. If they did, how could he proceed? Why need he swear so many oaths to so many people. He could only pray to the gods of old that his uncle would see his side.

"... I will do all I can to prevent bloodshed, I swear it. Come dawn tomorrow, I will embark with a small guard and make for Riverrun. I need you to send a raven today; implore Riaon to hold back on any decisions until I can arrive and speak with him myself."

“Gods save us from what I fear and let us hope this does not ruin us.” She nodded as she turned back to Edric, with a stressed smile of agreeance. 

"I pray it does as well. A long war will do no good, not with winter coming and bringing the dead with it." He remarked, sadly. Time would see if any gods could save them all.