[img]https://awoiaf.westeros.org/images/thumb/8/8d/Ted_Nasmith_A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_Riverrun.jpg/525px-Ted_Nasmith_A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_Riverrun.jpg[/img]

[right][h3][b]Riverrun[/b][/h3]
The lands surrounding Riverrun[/right]

[right][sub]Collab with [@Vanq], [@Ruby], [@Almalthia], [@LadyRunic], [@Thayr] & [@Apollosarcher][/sub][/right]
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The clatter of hooves and the rolling of wheels filled the air as a procession of nearly a dozen carts and four times as many men worked their way up the muddy road. Warrior Sons and Septons by the look of them with a handful of sellswords on horseback following the man in the lead. The children of House Tully knew all too well, Gynn Tully, regularly visiting over the years bringing presents and good cheer whenever he arrived. Yet he wore a dour look as he looked over the sellswords at his side gesturing for them to ride on ahead and alert Riverrun of their coming arrival.

The more horses bringing up the rear as the wagon train passed along the road to Riverrun, the sigil of the Septs painted upon each wagon. In addition to the drivers, guards, more sat within the wagons and septons and acolytes included. The full train when it arrived would reveal around seventy total and whatever cargo they might be carrying as well. While normally their uncle arrived with plenty to give this was... Different, the look of concern and fear on some of the men of the cloth's faces could cement that alone.

Stopping along the road, he produced a wineskin and took a long drink. He had to ask for a favor from his brother... What a day this was going to be. Of course should any of his kin spot him they might want a word with the wayward scion of the House who brought so many strangers to their door. Or the children might want their presents, he had of course made sure to bring something for them all.

They had talked of the inconsequential matters that drove Abigael mad. She'd much rather discuss the things that her brothers, particularly Prentys and his sanctimonious wife, refused to discuss with her. She sighed with relief. [color=#66CDAA]“Finally past all the boring bits."[/color] She glanced back quickly toward her brothers and leaned closer to Bertrand. [color=#66CDAA]“Truthfully no wonder every male thinks every woman doesn't have brains. Those subjects are trite. I, however, am bursting to know more about what that man told us before you came upon us."[/color]

Looking at Bertrand she wondered if he'd pat her on the head and tell her that she shouldn't worry her pretty head about such things. [color=#66CDAA]“Tell me Bertrand, excuse me Lord Bertrand,"[/color] Abigael blushed at her familiar form of address. [color=#66CDAA]“Have you ever come across anything about a Three Eyed Raven?"[/color] Abigael’s voice was pitched low so that only Bertrand could hear her.

Bertrand Tyrell blinked at the Tully girl with the pretty face and the fearless spirit, [color=#037A03]“Three-Eyed Raven?"[/color] He tried to remember lessons from Septons and Maesters, but it all just blurred in his mind’s eye in that moment. [color=#037A03]“No,"[/color] he admitted, finally, shaking his head gently, [color=#037A03]“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it, my Lady. Why do you ask?"[/color]

[color=#66CDAA]“It was something that man had said before he left. He also talked about dead Lannisters and Lannisters that were believed to be dead. Dragons, riots, large hosts that march for Kings Landing. Where you just came from."[/color] Abigael shook her head in wonderment and went on. [color=#66CDAA]“He talked about the High Marshall but he wasn’t clear on that. Two conflicting tales. It was… odd. I wanted to know more but he left."[/color] Abigael laid her hand on his arm and bit her lip. [color=#66CDAA]“I wouldn’t want to spread rumors but since you are her brother I thought you would wish to know. I was unable to verify the information fully, you understand, I was told she could be dead or lost. Truly I, for selfish reasons, don’t wish you to leave but I understand if you need to be sure of the information."[/color]

Gynn turned his horse as the wagons rolled on and started up the road yet again as he rode along a familiar shock of red hair, next to a boy he did not readily know. So coming alongside the pair he slowed his horse. [color=#7EA7D8]“Now what’s a nice girl like you doing on a muddy filthy road like this?"[/color] Gynn cracked a smile, as moved along, coming into view of Abigail as the wagons he was escorting moved along. [color=#7EA7D8]“My, my you get bigger every time I see you, more radiant as well. I ought to bring you to Old Town one of these days, make all the fancy ladies of the Reach jealous."[/color]

The click of horses hooves echoed against the silence of Prentys’s deep frown. For all that he approved that Abigael find herself a worthy husband? This upstart from a House of Stewards. Unworthy. It was a light to his dismal day to see their uncle. Letting his horse move up, he inclined his head to the man. [color=#4682B4]“Uncle, it is a pleasure to see you. Apparently, Abigael has taken to showing Ser Bertrand Tully about her haunts."[/color] His gaze looking disapprovingly at his sister.

Bensen, found taking up something of the rear of the little group which had ridden along the way, was otherwise occupied away from the talk between Abi and the Lord Bertrand. Once he had realized precisely her angle, and the ceaseless goings-on about this and that and the other, things that…altogether Bensen did not know much about, nor know if the Lord knew about, he had drifted out and away from the conversation. Bits and pieces of that was all he picked up, though the back of his mind nagged at him. The young Tully couldn't help but find disapproval at her ventures, all things considered…it'd be alike he becoming smitten with some Kingsland matron, save that Abi didn't endure the jeering and forthright disapproval which he knew would strike against him.

Sucking on his tooth, the Tully had taken good notice of the convoy led by their Uncle. Did they know the same as the Lord Bertrand, that ill things had happened? That Maegor had returned to claim what he wished? Would it altogether be proper for him to freely voice the question, or remind the people why they went along in such a somber march by his wonderings aloud? Bensen sucked on his tooth some more, adjusted himself in his saddle. Perhaps it wasn't. It wasn't necessarily his question to ask, in any case. No, instead he urged his horse on just a little while, up and nearer to Prentys and Gynn. Nodding, with perhaps too small a smile which grew as he spoke, the young Tully greeted with a, [color=#008B8B]"Uncle. If you brought her to Old Town she would surely turn pious Septs into men worthy for the Summer Isles with her liberties. Who would toll all the bells?"[/color]

Bertrand Tyrell stared at the words.

In his mind, the night replayed: he had been drunk…although he had always been drunk then. It wasn’t a compulsion; their mother had made it clear it wouldn’t have broken her heart so much had that been the case. Had Bertrand just been a drunkard, that she could have understood, she said, standing before the hearth in their solar, screaming at him.

[i][color=#037A03]”You were not a hateful boy, Bertie. This is NOT who you are."[/color][/i]

He tried to apologize. She slapped him, then slapped him again, then pointed at his sister, with the skin of her face blackened already, her lip cut, her dress half-torn, her neck bruised from his hand where he held her down and choked. Then Lady Bethany slapped him again. He felt as if he might cry, but he didn’t. His mother had been wrong, because that night he did hate, and it was a true, hot hatred.

It just wasn’t Vittoria he had hated…it was himself.

Lord Theo had been the last person left in that room, besides himself, and only at the very end, just before leaving, did Lord Theo take a long, last, drink and say anything at all, [i][color=#037A03]“Touch your sister again, and I’ll kill you. You leave for King’s Landing tomorrow."[/color][/i]

It wasn’t the last time he’d seen her. He saw her later that night, without their parents knowing, when she had come to him in a meeting that had left him broken. A red flame in the King’s new city had helped him find the part of him he had lost that dark night in Highgarden. But even placed back together as he was, he couldn’t help but think of that night, or the letter that followed.

So, he just stared at Abigael as if she’d hit him, but the shock of it left him seeing the face of Abigael Tully, not Vittoria Tyrell, not Bethany Tyrell, not a friendly flame, but the Lady before him now…like he hadn’t seen her before.

[color=#037A03]“I have to go back. I should have gone back, already, but I wanted to do this for her. I wanted to do something for her. I knew Dennet would see it through, Dennet would walk through the ruins of Valyria if she asked him, but I wanted to—I needed to help, because it was important to her."[/color]

A sigh escaped him like a little prayer, his brown eyes finding the horizon, before returning to her, his mouth daring a smile upon the sight of her, [color=#037A03]“I’m a different man than I was, and I owed it to her…but I can’t leave now. This is my path, and it has brought me to you. So tell me, Abigael, where does your path lead?"[/color]

Watching the thoughts run across Bertrand’s face was the most ensorcelling thing Abigael had seen. She heard her Uncle from far away and she responded to favorite people with automatic motions, her eyes not leaving Bertrand. Something that had never happened. She had always favored these men before all others and stacked them against each one in her mind and none had come close to holding her attention. None until Bertrand.

He was so different from all the others. So intense. [color=#66CDAA]“Bertrand…I…don’t believe that anyone has ever really asked me that. And I don’t believe I have thought past the fact that I would be married to someone and make his life easier. I don’t have the great head for military strategy. I know my strengths and I would hope that my husband would compliment them and need them. I would like to think my path is to be equally as valuable as my husband."[/color] She leaned in. [color=#66CDAA]“I know it is not a…all that common opinion. Please don’t think less of me for it. I would also hope there was at least some affection in the match."[/color] She blushed and looked down, peering at him from beneath her lashes.

It’d been so long, Bertie had almost forgotten what it was like to smile the gentle smile of relief and happiness, [color=#037A03]“I don’t know that I could think more of you in this moment,"[/color] [i]or[/i], he thought, [i]feel a greater affection than this.[/i] [color=#037A03]“Let’s get back to Riverrun, and talk?"[/color]
Abigael couldn’t help the smile that graced her features, truly engaging her whole heart, and truly brightened them from classically beautiful to radiant. Such smiles were typically reserved for her family so seeing one outside of the family was unheard of and ironically Bertrand and the Reachmen did not realize how special this moment was.

Nudging his horse closer, the multicolored mare gave a shake of her head as if to confirm his order as it came alongside Prentys. [color=#7EA7D8]“She’s free to show around the lordling from the flower planters, after all the boy is a guest. Careful though Abi, don’t go sewing seeds."[/color] He frowned a moment then at Bensen’s comment his grin returned. [color=#7EA7D8]“Bah, the Septons would not know what to do with a woman even less than a Maester would, even fewer probably know what they look like in the flesh!"[/color] The older Tully clapped Prentys on the back with a hearty laugh that creased his face with a smile. For a man their family rarely ever called upon he brought nothing but smiles and gifts.

[color=#7EA7D8]“We’ve got things to discuss when I get in but... First things first, what’s it been three? Four years since I was last here to see you lot? I’ve got presents, gifts, and stories for you sprouts. Since our good Lord Paramount will no doubt have something else to do when we get in we’ll gather up all you to help with the wagons... And then we can see about those gifts, unless you are all too high and mighty to help an old man unload after a hard journey?"[/color] He spoke, gib and relaxed, working to put the children as he saw them at ease. He would not burden them yet with his fears and worries, he was their uncle first... The General could wait to speak his piece later.

There was a distinct cough as Prentys rode up alongside the two lovebirds. Their twittering was as obvious as his wife’s pious nature. [color=#4682B4]“Dearest Sister, if you would perhaps disengage yourself from your flippant discussion to the fact we are being visited by our esteemed uncle?"[/color] His voice was dry enough to have replaced the scene of the Riverlands for Dorne. [color=#4682B4]“Ser Bertrand is welcome to join us,"[/color] The silent so long as he were to behave hung in the air. Leaning closer to his sister he spoke in a undertone of great disapproval. [color=#4682B4]“Sister you throw yourself at him as a common woman. You are of House Tully."[/color]