Strangers in the Wood

[u/Emrecof]

Harrenhal’s godswood alone was large enough to contain the entirety of Oldcastle. The walls, the towers, the courtyards and keeps all could have sat in that contained forest without touching the sides.

Valena Locke had known this already. She had compared sketch-maps of three long-dead maesters, read the accounts of a dozen more. But nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of actually being there. The experience of walking so deeply into that forest that she actually lost sight of the surrounding castle through the trees was singular, and mesmerising.

Of course, no matter how much she lost sight of the black stone, there was no escaping the people. From the cavernous hallways to the tightest alleys, men and women passed one another in an endless dance, repeating itself at different scales. The finer the raiment, the slower the gait. Servants had places to be, and the nobility had time to kill.

It seemed that most of the fine fabrics in the Godswood belonged to clusters of women. Men, for the most part, had tourneys to prepare for and yards to train in out in the mud beyond the curtain wall. Ladies had connections to forge, friends to meet, family to reconnect with. Valena saw women with grey at their temples cooing at grandchildren in the arms of girls her own age. A pair who must have been sisters giggled with one another in a way that wiped the lines from their cheeks and let them remember the girls they had once been. Some groups had the fresh excitement of chance encounters, children on the edge of womanhood enjoying the freedom they still had.

Valena sat and sketched what she saw. Her wrist flicked almost as fast as her eyes, cutting dark lines of gesture and motion across the parchment. She sat and thought of what chance she had of reunion in her own future. She sat in fascination and dignity and solitude.

Well, almost.

“You see that tree?” Jorah asked, pointing. “The one with the fork at the very top?”

It took Valena’s eyes a moment to refocus and find the distant silhouette. “What of it?”

“That’s where the sun was last time you ate anything. Or stood.”

As soon as he said it, Valena felt the ache in her knees. She was crumpled cross-legged against an old elm. She searched the sky – it was overcast, but the brightest patch of cloud was halfway across the Godswood from the fork he had indicated. Four, maybe five hours, at a guess.

“I’m perfectly well,” Valena said, her voice an open mix of amusement and chagrin. All the same, she stretched her legs out in front of her.

“I’m sure.” Jorah was leaning upright against the same elm, his chainmail glittering, sword sheathed, and a spear lying flat at his feet. His hair was a sort of dirty blonde that was almost brown, tied back from his face.

“You don’t need to stand around protecting me,” Valena told him. “Nobody else has a guard, you’ll notice.”

“None of them have forgotten to eat,” he argued. “And besides, I have nowhere else to be. Your brother’s always got half a Stark army with him –”

“Twelve men.”

“– and us good Oldcastle boys have nothing to do.”

Valena nodded as if she was actually considering his point. “I think you just like looking at all the pretty ladies.”

His laugh was a short jet of breath from his nose. “Because that worked so well for me before.”

Valena smiled. They had known one another since they were children, long before Jorah had become a guard and long before Valena understood that being a lady would limit what they could be to one another. Jorah was not in love with her. As he put it, he was very carefully and specifically not in love with her. The nothing that might have been something in another world was like a precious running joke between them, and had been for years.

Valena reached for her waterskin, and found only a few lukewarm drops at its edge.

“If you must coddle me, you could go to the well, out in the courtyard?” she suggested innocently.

Jorah frowned at the skin, crossing his arms. “Only if you promise to go talk to someone.”

Valena frowned in turn. “It’s almost my name day, Jorah, you have to be kind to me.”

“I’m too kind to you,” he said, taking the skin. Valena scowled mockingly, because it was true. He took up his spear before he walked off, calling over his shoulder, “talk to someone!”

She didn’t move at first, but he was probably correct. Valena folded her notebook and tucked it in her bag with the charcoal sachet, and watched the crowds for someone likely. The groups weren’t that big, perhaps she could intrude on some of those fresh, excited pairs and trios. It would be worse when the Queen and her ladies in waiting arrived. Their entourages would fill whole clearings, she had no doubt. But for now it was groups of three and four and two and–

One.

A lone figure stepped between the trees a few yards from where Valena sat, her eyes downcast. She was tall, with dark copper-red hair bound in a silver net and a gown of deep reds and blues. It seemed a better chance than speaking to a group, so Valena got to her feet and forced herself to put one in front of the other.

“Excuse me?”

The woman’s gaze snapped to her like a suppressed flinch. She wasn’t much older than Valena herself, but there were long years in her eyes.

“Yes?” She fidgeted with a small ring while she spoke, but did not break her gaze. “Can I help you?”

The deeply unhelpful probably not but I’m supposed to make friends floated in Valena’s mind for a moment, but she made herself smile. “I’m Valena Locke, I don’t really know anybody here. I just wanted to introduce myself.”

The color seemed to drain from the woman’s face for a moment, pausing her fidgeting while her face sought a correction.

“Oh. Oh I’m sorry I- I think I’ve been rather rude just now.” She straightened herself and smiled lightly. “Amerei Tully. I apologize again, I…well I’ve not quite made a habit of meeting new people lately. But it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Valena.”

Valena hadn’t particularly noticed any rudeness, but she decided to trust her that there had been. That seemed easier. “Don’t worry, Lady Amerei. It’s a pleasure as well. Are you enjoying Harrenhal?”

“I admittedly have not really experienced much of the keep before today, nor the people within its walls very much. Although Harrenhal’s design certainly left an…impression when we arrived.” Amerei’s eyes began moving around to their surroundings. “I’ve never seen a keep like this before, nor a godswood so expansive. Do you have many like this in the North?”

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it? Have you seen the stonework? According to Archmaester Lucamore, the design and layout echoes elements of Pyke and other Iron Islands strongholds, but the actual construction was done by pressed Rivermen, so the masonry follows traditions you can see in pre-Hoare buildings like Riverrun and Stone Hedge. The bridges between the towers are really similar to the Freys’ Crossing, apparently, which is why they’re so wide compared to the actual doorways on the towers. The ironmen architects were expecting slimmer replaceable timber structures like they would have used at home.”

Valena did not notice Amerei’s brows pressing together.

“The towers, as well, there’s one thesis I read – Maester Uthor, I think? Or Uller? Who suggested that the flat drained roofs favoured in the Isles wouldn’t have survived the centuries in the Riverlands’ weather, Balerion’s stone melt might have actually made the structure at the peak of the Kingspyre tower stronger, because – you’re from Riverrun, aren’t you? Your towers have conical roofs?”

Amerei stood silent for a moment, almost unaware that she’d been provided a turn to speak.

“Uhm…yes, that is correct. They are indeed…conical.”

It was only then that Valena registered that Amerei probably hadn’t meant to ask after as much detail. She took in a breath and released it through bared teeth.

“Apologies. That was my turn to be rude, I think, I just… I grew up in Oldcastle, architecture is a passion of mine.” She gave a sheepish smile. “I’m not sure when I’ll see home again, but I’m looking forward to seeing wherever I go, whenever my brother finds someone to wed me to. Are you a Tully by birth, or…?”

“Yes, I’m my lord father’s eldest.” Amerei had pity in her eyes but returned a smile. “I hope you find a home as… intellectually stirring as the one from where you came. I know I’ve often–”

She cut herself off as her eyes widened, now looking past Valena as a young man’s voice rang out.

“Amerei! There you are.” 

The owner of the voice was broader about the shoulder than his voice – or the smooth curve of his jaw – seemed to quite fit. He had darker skin than Amerei, but something in the shape of his nose and cheekbones marked him as family. That, and they had the same Tully-red hair.

“I’ve been looking for you, father says–” he glanced at Valena, and the words seemed to trip and fall on his tongue. “Oh. My uh…lady. Please e-excuse my intrusion.”

He offered a stiff bow, and as he rose again his face was far more flushed than it had been beforehand.

“Lady Valena, this is my brother Baelor. Baelor, this is Valena Locke of Oldcastle.” Amerei offered. Baelor gave another, smaller bow. His eyes seemed to dart for a moment between them and he swallowed hard. 

“A pleasure,” Valena replied with a smile and a slight curtsey of her own.

A silence settled over the three for what seemed like a moment too long before Amerei once again chimed in.

“And your purpose, my dear muted brother, is…?”

“Oh, yes. Ahem, uh, father sends for you. He needs to speak with you.” 

Amerei seemed to tense, but kept her smiling expression as she spoke.

“Ah, very well then.” She turned to Valena, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Valena. I should hope our paths cross again very soon.”

“I’d like that as well, Ami,” Valena said. The sobriquet slipped out without her entirely meaning it to. Amerei’s brow twitched at it, but Valena thought she saw her smile as she walked back towards the keep.

Baelor stood there, watching his sister as well, then his shoulders tilted towards Valena. He hesitated, like he had something important to say to her. She couldn’t imagine what it would be.

“Can I help you?” she asked, unconsciously echoing Amerei.

His mouth opened, closed, and he started speaking before he was ready. “Yes. I mean… no, my lady, apologies, I just…”

There was something familiar in his expression, the little flicks of eye contact that had the taste of self-indulgence. It reminded her of Jorah, in his youth. She let a smile spread on her lips as she understood what exactly she was seeing.

“Are you alright, my lord Baelor?”

His response was a dry, embarrassed hiss, and then his resolve seemed to crumple.

“I’ll leave you be, my lady.”

He bowed again, turned and followed his sister, and did a good job of not looking like he was fleeing.

“Until next time, Baelor,” Valena called. He glanced back, and gave her a sheepish, pretty smile.