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Ser Theodore Tyrell hated the North. He hated the cold winds, he hated the snow that fell even during the height of summer, he hated the dark woods full of wolves. He hated it all.
What Ser Theo didn’t hate however were the vast lands. The rivers, streams, and lakes teaming with fish and crab. Rich mountains, untapped, and no doubt filled with gold, silver, copper, and other metals. Forests with trees so thick that ten grown men could join arms and still fail to circle them, and so high as to block out the sun with their branches.
And more so, Theo didn’t hate that these rich lands were near completely uninhabited.
Theo was a landless knight in service to ‘roses much higher on the bush,’ as his father was cousin to Lord Mace Tyrell. As such, he was in line to inherit neither coin nor lands. And it would take the death of some twenty members of the family before that would change.
He had two children, and loved them dearly. His eldest child and daughter Elinor was his pride, as lovely as her mother and just as clever. Theo would not see her wed to some fifth son in line, like himself, to inherit nothing, nor some household knight.
His son Luthor was little more than a baby, but further still from relation with the Lord of High Garden. A household knight was all he could hope for.
Which is why Ser Theodore was glad to see the gates and high walls of Winterfell coming into view. He was on his finest horse, a strong black mare named Petals, dressed in his finest armor and accompanied by his squire Alyn Ambrose.
The journey from High Garden to Winterfell had taken weeks of travel both over land and the seas, months in all. But he had his lord’s leave to do so, even if Mace thought it a fool’s errand.
Of course, Lord Mace after hearing of Theo’s plan hadn’t given him a better solution.
So much for family , Theo thought as bitter as the cold winds around him.
He wished he could have convinced some of his cousins or nephews to attend him, if for no other reason than to make a better showing of himself. Alas, more bitterness.
When they were given permission to enter Winterfell, Lady Stark was waiting at the gate entrance ready to greet his party. She looked kind enough, if a little befuddled by his arrival. He’d sent a raven. But it was light on details as to his purpose.
Two younger children were with her, a boy & girl, and by their coloring he could surmise they were young lord Robb and the Lady Sansa.
His quarry however still alluded him.
Behind them stood Ser Rodrick, the Master of Arms, and his grandson, Jorey who served as Captain of the Guard. In large, a grandeur gathering then he could have wished for. Theo tampered down any notions of hope, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.
Introductions were made, and returned, Lady Stark was a more gracious host then Theo thought he’d deserved, looking little more than a vagabond before the family of a great lord.
“Welcome to Winterfell, Ser.” Bread & salt were offered, a polished bronze bowl held both, and Theo marveled at the simple bowl and the ancient custom. The South held similar customs, but the blood of the First Men ran deep in the North, and he could feel the weight of this welcome more than he’d received before among the true Andels.
“Your squire and yourself are our guests,” Lady Stark finished the elaborate welcome.
“You are most kind, my Lady,” Theo gave a deep bow. Two grooms were ready to take their horses, it had been a long journey and Petals deserved an apple. Or two. He’d make inquiries about that later.
Alyn’s horse was still unnamed. It was a gift from his lord father, but sadly the boy wasn’t known for his wit. Theo surmised the boy would simply call it Horse. It could be worse, he remembered a rather oafish boy who squired alongside him in his youth that did the same, and after that horse had died in battle he named the new one Other Horse.
“My lord husband will receive you in his solar, sadly pressing business has taken up most of his attentions.” She explained, unable to stop herself from gossip continued, “a matter of some urgency with Bear Island.”
“Think nothing of it, my lady. I await at his leisure.” Bear Island, a well sized island off the coast. Ser Theo had carefully schooled himself on the lands of The North, and its Houses. What House Mormont was up to was no business of his, nor did it touch on his plans.
Curiosity was plan on Lady Catelyn’s face. He hesitated to bring her into his plans, as what lady wanted to discuss her husband’s bastard? But thought the better of it, as Jon Snow wasn’t his only interest and having her in his corner might smooth out any hesitation on Lord Stark’s end.
“My lady, if I might be so bold --,” the lady nodded before sending her two children off. The boy, Robb, nearly ran straight off but at the last minute slowed his exit as to not offend. The girl Sansa was better mannered, gave a perfect curtsy, and departed.
The Lady Stark lead him to her own solar, a small room but well furnished. Theo could think of many a lord who wouldn’t even give that much to a wife, but this made Theo think better of the lord. If he’d had a castle, his beloved wife could have as many rooms as she wanted.
A septa appeared as obvious chaperone, Jory Cassel also accompanied them. Theo did not know if the man was a knight like his grandfather, but would address him as such until told otherwise. Flattery rarely failed to hit its mark.
Sitting before her desk, his squire standing just to his left, Ser Theo began, “I wished to discuss with Lord Stark taking my son Luthor on to foster. To squire for him, if that would be acceptable, and being knighted in due time.” An abbreviated version of the truth if there ever was one.
Puzzlement once again crossed the lady’s visage, “I’m sorry, Ser, but my lord husband holds to the Old Gods. Your son could squire for him, but my husband couldn’t knight him.”
Theo nodded, as he was well aware of this fact. “No need to apologize, my lady. I was already aware. Lord Eddard need not be the one to knight him, as I’m sure you already have knights in your household who could do that for him. But the chance to learn from him, a storied hero of Robert’s Rebellion and more recently the Ironborn’s Uprising? To train and learn beside your own children…” he trailed off as clarity filled the Lady’s eyes.
“Ah. And a future friendship with the next Lord of Winterfell?” She said with a nod, as if this had been some difficult puzzle only she was clever enough to solve. “Would it not be more prudent to have your cousin, Lord Mace, foster the boy?”
“Lord Mace has fostered, and will no doubt continue to foster many of our cousins and his nephews. What would Luthor be among them? Just another distant relation.” One boy, among many, the Tyrell name meaning very little. Theo let the lady grapple with the idea, knowing that she’d relish it more if she regurgitated what he’d already made plane.
“But fostering in The North, he’d be a Tyrell . The only southern boy around, and would have a greater chance of garnering renown.” She had very good manners, Theo could still see that, but clearly thought herself more intelligent then what she was.
Theo smiled politely and pointed to his nose, “got it in one, my lady. Not to overlook that Lord Eddard and King Robert fostered together, and the king might take notice of little Luthor because of that connection.”
The lady nodded, lost in her own thoughts, possibly the idea of fostering and what it might mean hadn’t crossed her mind. Which was odd, having been raised by a Great Lord, her own father.
If he was the first to extend the request of his son fostering, Lady Catelyn might be more inclined to his side. If it would open up future chances for her to push the sons of lords she was friendly with. Theo was sure the Riverlands had many an ambitious lord. That is after all, how the Tully’s came to be married to the lord of The North and Vale, trading arms for opportunities.
“I also have a daughter, and a northern marriage might be much more opportune then a southern one.” He mentioned slyly, almost as an afterthought.
It pleased him that she didn’t seem to notice, lost in her own thoughts. But it would be a poor technician that didn’t cover all his routes. “Possibly a holdfast in The North, there is so much open space here.”
But she proved, at least a little, to be less of a fool then he was taking her for.
“A holdfast?” Her eyes were focused on him now, whatever daydream she was having pushed to the back of her mind.
“Of course, my lady. If my son were to be knighted and had Lord Eddard’s good grace, a cadet branch of House Tyrell might – bloom.” The hook was plan to see, shiny and sharp.
Now the self-deprecation.
“I’m a household knight, my lady. Sworn to my second cousin. I have no lands. What coin I possess is payment for work, not inheritance. If there is a chance my son might be a landed knight?” He didn’t play humble well, so few in his House did, but the lady didn’t look alarmed.
Cautious, but not alarmed.
“Is there any particular site that has your attention?” Careful, Theo, reel the fish in slowly.
“The North is so vast, my lady. Rivers, lakes, mountains, the ideal for anyone. Maybe something near the coast? So that travel between our Houses might be made easier.” Slowly, slowly. “I can’t tell you my much my backside would thank me if I’d been able to take a ship.” He joked.
A surprised bark of laughter took her by surprise.
“If you can forgive my language.” But a small smile was playing across her face, even as she dismissed his racy words. Slowly, slowly.
“I’m sure my husband can arrange that. If , of course, little Luthor earns his spurs.”
~~~
Lord Stark was an imposing man. Built solid, stout of chest and strong of arm. His long wolfish face greeted him once his business had been concluded, later that day.
Theo had spent a good couple of hours hashing out the domestic issues that would go with fostering with Lady Catelyn, then nearly a third as she discussed things with her husband while he waiting outside his solar.
The length of their meeting gave him hope, as a shorter span would have obviously doomed any of his plans.
He’d learned from years in Mace’s court that a lengthy meeting was a meeting in which one side had already won and was simply waiting for the other to catch up. Sadly, he’d seen all too often it was his cousin that was being pantsed. His mother however, the so called Queen of Thorns, always kept her meetings brief.
The outcome was already a forgone conclusion, even before you opened your mouth.
His wife Lia was the same, at least when it came to him. Lady Catelyn was something of a disappointment, at least in that regard.
But maybe Lord Eddard just liked them pretty.
Lord Eddard raised his hand a gestured to the wooden chair before his desk. His solar was quite different then his wife’s, more – somber if that was possible. Less ostentatious
Theo gratefully took the offering of chilled water with lemon. This far north, citrus must be in short supply. He wondered if things went well at setting up glass houses tall enough for lemon, orange, and blood orange trees. This lot seemed a practical lot, but fruit was a luxury few would pass up.
“Ser Theodore, my wife tells me you wish to foster your son within my household?” Cutting right to the chase, he’d heard that about Northmen. “Your missive only spoke of your wish to meet with me, but was sparse on detail.”
Theo Tyrell, now within reaching distance of his goal, found himself floundering. Lord Eddard’s face gave nothing away, and Theo only had the lord’s reputation to go by.
And his reputation was both impressive & bloody.
King Robert might sit the Iron Throne, but it was Eddard Stark who put him there. It was Northmen who ended three hundred years of House Targaryen’s rulership. It was House Stark that had suffered most by the dragon’s hands and it was by their own hands that they’d been pulled down.
It was Northmen who stormed the Iron Islands, who put castle to torch and squid-men to the sword.
Theo was second cousin to a lord who’d spent the rebellion starving out one castle, who supped on wine and ate boar & fat deer. Who lowered their sigils as meekly as girls when the Northmen marched upon them.
And the Ironborn rebellion was much the same. Feasts behind the safety of their sworn swords while the real fighting happened elsewhere.
The Quiet Wolf and the Fat Flower were as different as night and day.
“--Yes, that’s correct my lord,” Theo hoped his voice didn’t give away his nerves.
As meekly as girls , he’d overheard such talk not long after he’d visited Lannisport, the shame burned then as it did now. But it gave him the nudge to move forward.
“As I discussed with your lady wife, I’d like my son Luthor to foster alongside your on sons. To learn sword-craft with your master-at-arms, and in some years when he’s proven his mettle, one of your knights could give him the oath and his spurs.”
Eddard Stark’s face was as good as carved from stone for all the emotion it conveyed. “Yes, Catelyn laid out as much.” They continued to sit in silence for a few moments, before Eddard spoke further, “she also mentioned a Tyrell holdfast within my lands.”
Gods , Theo thought, the inflection in his voice didn’t change from one word to another. Giving away neither interest or dismissiveness.
Steely his courage, he pulled a northern map from his satchel and pointed to a place marked ‘The Stony Shore’. He pointed out how construction of a castle and port could open up trade between The North and its southern neighbors. How this new port and White Harbor could do more than just trade, Theo spoke of a Northern fleet of ships to defend against Ironborn raiders and wildling attacks.
And all the while Lord Stark looked on, as immovable as a statue.
Finally, Eddard circled his finger around the coastline in question, “that’s a great deal of land for a landed knight .”
Nodding, Theo continued, “Yes my lord, but I’d hoped Luthor might be granted a plot of land by the new lord of Stony Shore, your son Jon Snow, as a gift for his one-day good brother after he marries my daughter Elinor.”
If Theo thought Lord Stark a manmade block of ice, such thoughts fled him as he noticed the lord’s knuckles go white as they gripped his desk and his eyes narrow to slits. “So, it’s not just fostering you want, or a whole coast to yourself, you want my son as well?”
“Peace, my lord,” he said, hoping that he hadn’t over played his hand. “I’ve heard your son has been raised alongside his noble born brothers and sisters, taught by the same maester, trained by the same master-at-arms.”
“I had only assumed that one day you might ask the king that he be made legitimate, and if not made a Stark then allowed to found his own cadet branch of House Stark. Even so, the stain of his origin might deny him certain proposals his siblings would naturally enjoy. Such as marrying a noblewoman.”
Eddard Starks eyes had done little but narrow further, his lips tightly bound.
Self-deprecation had won over the Lady Stark, Theo guessed it couldn’t hurt here.
“I am a household knight, sworn to the service of my second cousin. I have nothing to give my children in the way of inheritance. My daughter is nobly born, with a storied name. But neither land nor resources to call her own. Your son is a bastard, but the bastard of the Warden of the North, an entire coastline could be his with but a word from you. Such a union would elevate both.” If Lord Stark and his wife compared notes, they wouldn’t find his words contradicting.
“—I’m sure you’ve already received requests on Jon Snow’s part, even bastard born, one can’t ignore his connection to you or the next Lord of Winterfell, his brother.”
“There have been inquires.” The lord’s voice hadn’t thawed. But Theo had come this far, turning back now would be nothing short of cowardice.
“The daughters of stewards, household guards, with little in the way of inheritance either?” Theo hoped so, likely the other lords of the North were more keen on the heir. But once his hand was promised to another, any fool could see the bastard’s merit. He just hoped he’d beat them in the race.
“What my daughter has, besides noble blood, is a noble name . A name that, if Stark is too big of an ask, Jon could also inherit.”
Which, along with the possibility of his son becoming a landed knight and a cadet branch, would make his daughter a lady with lands and title, and his grandchildren to continue to hold the Tyrell name.
“You’ll forgive me Ser, but if I’m to understand you, you request that your son foster in my household, be granted lands, and that your daughter marry my son, and be granted a vast coastline, continue to carry the Tyrell name, all the while the only thing Jon will inherit is a name?” Now Lord Stark’s tone was clear, and dismissive. “As you said, I could grant Jon lands throughout the North with but a word. With a missive to the king, he could carry the Stark name. I pretend to no great understanding of southern politics, but it seems to me that you expect I sell you the horse & cart at the low price of allowing you to also buy my son to drive the thing.”
“—My lord, I to can’t pretend to knowing the ins and outs of northern politics, but the way I understand it, your western coast is empty save a small fishing village. It’s often plagued by Ironborn raiders, as well wildling incursions. A new lord, tied by marriage to a Warden of the south, with the addition of a knight to also oversee lands of his own from attacks sounds like a boon.” Theo argued.
“A new lord means the need for a new castle, two if your son is granted lands. Laborers will be required to build both, stonecutters, woodcutters, masons. Villages and a port will also need to be constructed, to one day pay taxes on goods to support the lord and knight of these new lands. Shipwrights to build the ships, small folk to man the fishing vessels, cargo vessels, war galleys to defend all of the above. Additional smallfolk to fill the villages & docks, to fill the farms that will be required to feed the new lord and knight and all of their retainers. Not to mention men-at-arms, stable masters & horses, stewards, kennel-masters & dogs, household servants, archers, blacksmiths, miners and surveyors to find the metal deposits to forge arms and armor.” With each new addition, Lord Stark tapped the map of the Stone Short that Ser Theo of provided.
“What dowry can you provide for your daughter? Not lands, not arms, not coin. The cost required for the construction of a single castle is substantial. If you can’t provide coin, or smallfolk to till the earth, or shipwrights, other than the name Tyrell , what exactly will you be providing? Please Ser, I’m but a humble Northman, ignorant of southern ways, so you’ll need to explain to be as if I’m a fool, what benefit am I missing by your gracious proposal?”
“—My lord…”
“Get the fuck out of my solar.”