Osric Stark, Heir to Winterfell -
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Osric had woken to a servant informing him that the King and his father had gone out hunting and that afterwards the final day of mourning would occur. Which had led to him sitting down with Lady Olenna.
''We'll give his grace what he wants, but when the time comes we'll do things properly.'' He told the true head of House Tyrell.
''Properly?!'' The Queen of Thorns scoffed. ''Margaery has been glowing. You only glow like that from good fucking. You deflowered my granddaughter before her wedding day. Was that done properly?''v Olenn a asked
''I haven't deflowered Margaery, we have indulged in each other. But her Maidenhead is intact.'' Osric said.
''If her maidenhead is intact, then why…. Oh, I see. Well, I wished you had deflowered her then, I wouldn't have to think about the alternative holes.'' Osric winced slightly, he wasn't sure why, but the look of exasperation from the Tyrell Matriarch made him nervous.
''Well? Off with you boy, I'll speak with your father about what's proper, and when we do it.'' She barked.
Osric grunted as he left, there was no one who could match Olenna Tyrell's sharp tongue to be sure. Even less could match her sharp wit.
And honestly Osric had little interest in trying. It would be a waste of time and energy that could be better spent elsewhere on more pressing or just more important things.
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Eddard ''Ned'' Stark, Hand of the King -
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To men who didn't know him but had seen him, he didn't look any different, but Ned felt like he'd aged a thousand years. He'd known Osric was blessed, but not just how blessed he was.
What he knew about Jon, about Lyanna…
There was only one other person who knew that. And Osric had met Howland Reed exactly once and even then only in passing.
Even so, Osric assured him that unless Jon asked him long after Ned's death, it would be a secret they both took to their graves.
''Alright, enough. Why do you so much more fucking grim?'' Robert asked him.
''Robb sent word to Osric. See for yourself.'' He handed Robert the letter.
Robert's face flushed red.
''Do we know who is responsible for this?'' Robert was extremely tense.
''No, but it gets worse. Osric recognized the details of the dagger that was used. Valyrian Steel, Dragonbone hilt. According to Osric there is exactly one Dagger like it in the world. It was lost in the Dance of the Dragons. Much as you keep Jon's Hunting Knife on you, this dagger served a similar purpose. It was the personal dagger of Aegon the Conqueror.'' Robert flushed purple.
''Is he absolutely certain, that it belongs to the Dragon cunts?'' Robert asks slowly.
''Without being able to inspect it personally your grace?'' Osric's voice cut through the growing tension like a knife through butter. They turned to see Osric had entered, Ser Waymar and Smalljon Umber beside him, Torrhen Karstark and Dacey Mormont behind them. ''Unless I can examine it in person, compare it to the records in Winterfell's library I can't say with certainty. But there are no other records of another dagger like it. If I can find the inscription said to be on the hilt and blade then it's the confirmation I require.'' Osric said.
''As soon as this wedding is done, this is your next priority. If the Targaryen's are making moves I want to find out first.'' Says Robert.
''Don't believe it is the Targaryen's. Not directly at least. Could be a Targaryen loyalist trying to avenge a personal loss from the rebellion, but its far more likely to be that someone is trying to stir shit up. As father said, the dagger went missing in the Dance. Hasn't been seen since. A Targaryen loyalist would have ensured the weapon returned to Viserys.'' It was a miracle that Robert still retained some sense in that sea of rage.
''Find out who.'' Robert left in short order.
''What is the matter?'' He asked Osric.
''Nothing, Lady Maege sent word, she wants Dacey back at Bear Island immediately. Didn't say why. Nor did the Greatjon about why he wants Smalljon to return home.'' Osric said.
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Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold -
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Rickard Karstark was disappointed that he'd been unable to marry Alys to Osric Stark. But he'd come out quite well.
With word spreading like Wildfire regarding the talents of the Heir of Winterfell and Torrhen's proximity to him along with that, Rickard had been able to negotiate with Lord Mooton to marry his daughter to Harrion. Additionally he was in talks with Lord Randyll Tarly to marry his son and heir Dickon to Alys.
He knew the other houses were doing the same thing. Lady Maege was negotiating with the Blackwoods, Greatjon was negotiating with Maege for Lady Alyssane, and there were whispers that the Leech Lord was seeking a Reach bride for his son and heir. He didn't know how tue that was, but from everything Rickard had seen of the young Domeric Bolton, he was everything his father wasn't. Though - especially where Bolton's were concerned - appearances could be deceiving.
Regardless, Rickard would be sending men with even a modicum of talent in smithing with the hope of being able to further benefit from the materials found within the Karstark Lands, there was no guarantee Lord Osric would accept them, but the was a much higher guarantee that if he didn't then the profitability would die with Lord Osric. Karstark Lands, while not poor, were vast and closer to the Wall than anyone else except the Greatjon's. As such they dedicated much time and energy to the raising of Aurochs and livestock capable of surviving the cold, Salt production, Snowberry and Pinkberry harvesting, and fishing amongst others.
As Starks said, Winter was Coming, and the Sun of Winter would benefit from the coming thaw….
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Osric Stark, It's Really Happening -
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Four days of feasting, hunting, and memorializing the life of grandfather. Smalljon and Dacey left during the third day, but now as the week came to a close, the new Moon welcomed in Wedding prep. Suddenly - and Osric actually felt insulted on his late grandfather's behalf for this - a lot more people had shown up, and it felt like more people cared.
Osric didn't like that, but he wouldn't let it detract from the event. But he wasn't happy with Lady Olenna because he hadn't seen Margaery, and had been informed he wouldn't until the wedding. Don't get him wrong, he understood, she didn't want to risk her precious granddaughter getting ploughed and deflowered before she got married, but he'd kept himself under control this long, he wasn't taking her Maidenhead until the bedding, but apparently she didn't believe him.
Well, he would find his way to Margaery one way or another, luckily the forge had been made available to him, so he could forge himself some climbing gear. Just a shame Smalljon wasn't here, made the coming fight less fun. He'd warned Olenna to put more guards on Margaery's door, which she had, Waymar and the others would have a punch up with the guards on Margaery's door distracting them, allowing him to climb the tower and then once everything was said and done, walk out the front door.
Olenna would be left scratching her head at that one.
Ah well, just a shame Smalljon wasn't here.
He was their equivalent of Sandor ''The Hound'' Clegane, just without the scars and burns and the potty mouth.
This was going to be so much fun, he was doing it purely to spite Olenna, walk into a trap, and you'll get burned bad….
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(Author's Note:)
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And with that, Chapter 17. Mourning period is done, anyways, um, got a few things to discuss, but can't even remember what they were about. Concussion, Still haven't found my fucking notes, at this point I don't really need them, because we're three chapters past me needing them. See you next chapter.
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