The Halls of the Mountain King Part 1
The ride to the Sacred Grove of the Vale was a long one, your retinue, Ser Brynden, and Septon Marberad, along with many knights who wished to witness the meeting of the clans, and the potential end of hostility between the two peoples.
The fact that Rhaella and Aemma were also among the group made you glad of the protection that many of the lords's provided. You feared that this may be the start of something terrible, and you'd rather be the one to strike the first blow, than reacting to it.
It was that fact you did not enjoy whatsoever. "It's dangerous Rhae, for you and Aemma."
"I am the only representative of the Iron Throne amongst all of your men." She stated. "I am going to attend because I am that, and your wife. I deserve that much."
"And if we're killed, you and Aemma will die along with me, or worse, a very well thought out plan you have." You replied.
"I am not going to sit aside and follow your orders Arstan!" She proclaimed.
"And I can't risk losing you!" You shouted. "I have nothing without you!"
You took several breaths before slumping down onto the cold ground. "My father is gone… my stepmother hates me, and won't let me see my brother, because she's afraid that I might kill him. She may not say it out loud, but I see her fear. You are the only one whom I can rely on. That is why I'm asking you to stay behind."
Rhaella bent down and gave you a hug. "That is why I will stay beside you. Because where you go to this meeting… I go."
Your heads met each other, and you both began to kiss. That anger and frustration melted away, and you began… to remind each other how much you loved each other.
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The Sacred Grove was like all things in the Vale… Pristine, untouched by man, even when he had the chance to, except for the great wooden palisade around it, and the guard towers… and the large tent city that seemed to spring out around it.
500 clans all gathered in one place… A truly rare feat for any man to see, having so many people coming together by choice.
"Where shall we stay My Lord?" Ser Brynden asked.
"Go to the outskirts, set up a guard, I'll handle the rest." You replied, riding forward towards the tent city and the Grove.
Around you, the Clansmen were… perplexed. You were wearing only light armor, and you saw plenty of chances to kill you. But they did nothing but stare at you. Stare in awe, at you.
You reached the grove and allow your horse to rest. The warriors standing guard were… less than thrilled to see you.
"Little man." The one on the left said, towering over you.
You were quite surprised… hardly anyone towered over you. "Yes?" You replied.
"You Valemen killed the Burned Men? That right?" He asked.
You narrowed your eyes. "Yes… They were threatening my people." Your hand went to your sword.
The guard and his fellow both looked ready to be violent. "I'd consider your next words carefully, little falcon."
"I've killed a king." That made the entire world seem a little colder. "I can safely say that no one else here can claim that."
"<Let him through!>" A voice speaking the old tongue ordered.
You turned to see an old man walking towards you, a man you would consider a wizard if he did not have a great sword on his back. "<You can speak our touge yes?>"
You nodded. "<Quite a bit.>" You replied as you gave a small bow in your head. "<Elder>"
There was a small laugh. "<Helen told me good things about you, Arstan Arryn. About you, and the dragon you mount on your bed every night>"
You narrowed your eyes but kept the smile. "<Don't be crass about my wife, she'd cut your balls off.>" You replied.
"<I expect nothing less from a Dragoness.>" He replied. "<Jorge, son of Forge of Clan Ironpine.>"
"<Arstan, son of Jon, of Clan Arryn.>" You replied. You then began to follow him towards the Grove itself. "<Why are you so eager to see me, and allow this meeting to happen? Your people hate mine, and it's the same for us.>
Jorge walked forward and sat before the pool. "<This is ancient ground from before the Andals came. Before we were forced to hide in the mountains…>
"<Where are the Weirwoods?>" You asked. "<if this grove is so sacred to you, why does it look like it has been burned by fire?>
"<Destroyed by Dragon fire, centuries ago.>" Jorge stated. "<The Goddess of the Mountain came down upon us, to punish us for rising up against the Vale without her permission. When we heard word of a Dragoness amongst the Falcons, who has given birth to another in a blizzard on the mountain's fist… We took it as a sign that she favored the Valeman, over us.>"
You nodded. "<I don't know if that is true or not… but my daughter's birth was not a freak of prophecy… merely poor circumstances.>"
The old man laughed. "<What is prophecy if not a set of circumstances that we consider poor on ourselves… The gods laugh at us every day… watch us live. Love, suffer. We can only accept that it happens, even if we have no control… or we fight a losing battle, and lose everything.>"
You nodded. "<We have control over our fate.>"
"<Do you really Arstan… of Clan Arryn… When have you ever been in control of your fate?>" The man asked.
"<I came here didn't I?>" you replied. "<In peace, instead of war.>"
"<Indeed.>" Jorge replied. "<But you must convince the others of that.>"
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All five hundred chieftains waited in the grove. They had all made their cases in support or opposition of bending the knee to you.
But now it was your turn to speak.
It was your turn to convince them that it was the right thing to do.
What do you say:
[]Write in
