Chapter Text
1507 ALN
Once one gets past the Neck the Seven Pillars takes on an entirely different aura. Of course, that can be said of many of these customs, for those who to this day can trace their roots to the mysterious First Men make a point of conferring to any such festive occurrences importance of monstrous proportions. Like their Southnron brethren, the Northerners observe the calendar strictly and their preparations are orderly and calmly seen to. But their manner of gathering what is needed puts them apart from the others.
The further North one goes, the earlier collecting starts. Even with new implements meant to aid the agricultural endeavours of landowners, the custom still holds that once a moon turns has passed into the new year, gathering of materials for the Seven Pillars Fest begins. As to why that is, locals have been kind enough to explain that the First Pillar offers not fruit of the earth but of the mind, and as such every man and women is expected to give their utmost to their craft in those first days of the year. Through the following six moon turns, foodstuff and utensils are brought together in what is to make the seven-day long feast. And indeed, it seems that this mode of gathering a little at a time gives these folk an advantage over their Southron kin.
In the fifth turn the women begin sewing pressed coldblooms into the hem of their kirtles, the more daring ones going as far as to line the inside of their pillows with such blooms, in hopes of catching a glimpse of their future. It is also the turn of the Traveller’s tale. In each home, by the hearth, the children gather to hear of Prince Aenay[r] and the proud Iorves, maiden of the Coldbloom Court.
Continuing a tradition seemingly older than the community remembers, the Traveller’s tale is well-known for incorporating several trope reversals. In its most popular form, it contains only one such reversal. Though several, slightly different, stories have been recorded by maesters past, it seems to be the case that we are dealing with a common core belief. For clarity’s sake, I shall summarise the Traveller’s take in brief.
A Prince of fame and fortune, embarks against the wishes of his father, the King, on a journey of great length. After several misadventures, he lands with his companions in a strange kingdom where all colour has been drained, except for one: the clear blue of a Princess’ eyes. Iorves of the Coldbloom Court is niece to a King of her own and under pressure to wed. Having refused the brave knights of her own land her uncle chooses Aenay[r] for her. Iorves agrees to wed him, if he will bring her a single bloom of a tree which grows the flowers whose name her court bears. The Prince pledges to bring her such a flower even knowing once his task is completed he will perish. He does indeed kept his word and the curse takes his life. Remorseful at her deed, Iorves picks the petals off the bloom and feeds them to the Prince in order to revive him. To the great joy of the court, the gallant is back on his feet, but the Princess has brought the wrath of the gods down upon herself and is transformed into a scaly winged creature. This, however, does not stay the Prince’s love, who in the face of the gods’ decision declares that he still wishes to remain with the Princess, thus together the duo go on to have many an adventure that is the stuff of legends.
As stories go, this one satisfies the hearer fully. But is there something more that can be gleaned from it? Is there a figure behind the Aenay[r] of the tale to identify? Several maesters have tried unsuccessfully to connect the tale to the well-known knight Arsor Silverstep and his legendary, by now, love for Princess Ileana.[1]
What this approach neglects is the obvious and much more pronounced similarities between the Prince of the Traveler’s tale and Aenys Targaryen, son of King Baelenor. While there is much we do not yet know about his death, Prince Aenys’ life is reflected in the Traveler’s tale almost perfectly. He travelled deep into the lands of Essos and encountered a daughter of a local leader whom he wedded only for a bloody war to take both of their lives. The bodies were sent overseas to Westeros, by order of King Baelenor.[2]
And, of course, a second parallel is drawn to the man who brought the coldbloom into Westeros. Legend places him fifth among his brothers, as the son of the ruling King Rhaegar of the 300 AL[3] and a Northerner mother[4]. Listed as Aenar or Aenarr, he is said to have travelled Essos extensively as well before his return Westeros and assuming the white cloak of the Kingsguard. On one of his many travels he came upon a strange bloom, of which he pressed a number to take back with him. He brought back a live specimen, allegedly carried in the mouth of his dragon, called coldbloom henceforth for withstanding the high temperatures within.
This belief is strengthened by a series of letters found in the Citadel of Oldtwon, the product of a fruitful and constant communication among not only Aenar Targaryen and King Rhaegar, but his siblings as well. Unfortunately, some of these precious parchments have been handled with less than enough care, resulting in the destruction of scores of such letters. What remains is a number of fifty such exchanges, with the possibility of more being found once the locations mentioned can be pinpointed on a map.
That being said, I have taken the liberty of translating a few passages from one such letter from Prince Aenar to one of his sisters his still-tongued, most stalwart secrets bearer. I assume he writes to Princess Aemma.[5]
Sweet mine sister,
I deeply regret having caused again friction between the two [the King and Queen], but I never shall feel aught but joy at having escaped the suffocating hold [of the Faith]. But you know they [King and Queen] live for moments such as these, when they may, to their heart’s content, be at loggerheads and debate heatedly where they should not have compromised. To think I shall miss the good fun that is to be had. Pray write to me when you can and tell me all.
For myself, I am well. You would not believe how easily one gets used to long hours spent upon a dragon’s back without saddle. But since Ior…[the name has been scratched away] has outgrown the last one, I’ve had to take it apart. Flying by night is most challenging though and I pray it will not be long until there is no longer need for it.
There are many wonders to be seen in this part of the world, most of which I would have been gladder to read about over a bowl of hot soup. You must be laughing to yourself, chiding me for this complaint, as it was my choice, but I am well tired of tough salted meats. Iorth… can at least hunt for food. I’ve already had to pay three separate shepherds for this insatiable beast.
We finally reached a settlement I cab write about. The Rhoynish had claim over it in the days of yore, but now it lies abandoned, not a soul in sight, save for a few fat juicy rats the beast keeps chasing about. The marble of the walls in the most durable I have seen. Twice we’ve slammed into it and yet there is no crack to be seen. In the centre there is a great square where I am told there used to be a market. I see many weeds and flowers, and I think our sister should like some for her press, but naught resembles the busy markets I’ve yet seen in these parts. Wars have chased the population away long past and no one has settled within since. ‘Tis a pity for I find the climbing flowers a sight for sore eyes and the homes spacious enough for even Lord Fr[e]y and his brood. The name of it, if ever you should wish to find the place, is Sar Mel[l] and flying along the many branches of the Dragon Road might lead you to it.
Beneath this great lumbering beast there lies another structure. It can be reached through the catacombs, but most of it is unstable timber pillars. I did not dare go too far within, but I have managed to pull out a most interesting flat coin I am told is not a coin at all but part of a necklace. In ages long forgotten, the First Men traded with the settlement on the underground, or they were themselves First Men. I wonder if I should risk life and limb for a few more trinkets. What say you, sister, shall I bring you a full necklace the likes of which you’ve never seen? - Customs, Tales and Folklore of Westeros, by Maester Sidwyck
[1] Arsor Silverstep and Ileana Tearmiaden is still sung to this day in the halls of the marsh lords.
[2] There is still some dispute regarding the year the war took place in, with some scholars placing it in 645 ALN while others claim the year to be 665 ALN. What can be said with certainty is that the war was no earlier than 640 ALN.
[3] AL stands for Aegon’s Landing, commonly used to mark the years after the mythical Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros.
[4] Allegedly the mother of six out of the seven sons, according to Dragonlied, her name was Lyanne, with some sources spelling it as Lyanna. She was of House Rosby according to Maester Willmot, with Maester Sartor claiming she was a Baratheon. Further study places her in House Stark. King Rhaegar’s first bride is given as a member of House Martell by the name of Elia. Apparently the order is as such: Aemon, Jaehaerys, Daegar, Maelor, Aenar and Rhaemon. The daughters are presumably of the following names: Naerys, Rhaella, Elaena, Daena, Baelle, Aemma and Rhae.
[5] Maester Illyn in his Deeds of the Dragons claims Aemma, later married to House Royce, was oft called the Vault for her secrecy.