As the party of riders approached the castle gates, Arya Tully shifted from one foot to the other, trying not to show her boredom as her aunt swung off her horse and Maester Lucas cleared his throat, a pointed reminder to Arya of her duty. Stepping forward with as much grace as he could manage, the young girl fell to her knees in the yard. "Lady Tully" she announced, proud of the strength in her voice, "Riverhold is yours".

"Thank you, Arya" her aunt smiled, before turning to her travelling companions and once more offering them the hospitality of Riverhold for the night before they resumed their journey back west. Only once the other nobles had passed beyond the gates and the yard stood empty did Alyssa turn to Maester Lucas, eyes flicking towards Arya. "Tell me" she commanded, as she began striding towards the gates, "how stands our treasury?"

"Healthy, my lady" the maester answered, falling into step behind her without hesitation, used to the abrupt movements of the woman in whose castle he served. "Even after setting aside the gold to pay for the construction of these towers and forts Lord Edmure spoke of, we still have near thirty thousand gold dragons in our vaults".

"Good" Alyssa gave a brisk nod. "Then begin making plans to expand the armory."

"Expand...the armory?" Lucas repeated. "Of course, my lady. And how large, exactly, do you envision it becoming?"

Alyssa gestured with her arm to where the building in question sat just at the edge of the courtyard. "Well at the very least" she replied, "we'll have to add a second level. Mayhaps double its current length as well."

"Double?" Lucas paused a moment to make sure he had heard that correctly. "As you command, my lady. I shall send for the masons and carpenters at once."

Alyssa nodded again, satisfied with his response. "And once you have made those arrangements" she continued, "begin sending orders to blacksmiths. As soon as the armory is rebuilt, I want it filled. Every one of the fighting men I can rally to my banner should have a full set of plate, as well as a shield, pike and castle-forged longsword."

"Every one of them?" Lucas choked as he imagined the sheer scale involved in acquiring and storing that much equipment. "My lady, that is over a thousand men! To purchase that amount of weapons and armor, not to mention rebuilding the armory to store it all would…"

"All but empty my vaults" Alyssa finished, face showing absolutely no reaction to that prospect. "I'll still have enough income to run my lands, will I not?"

"Well, yes but…"

He was abruptly cut off once again. "Then is it not better that the last of the gold I took from House Marbrand goes to something useful, like improving our army, than merely sitting in a dusty vault?"

"It is" Maester Lucas sighed, admitting defeat with a slump of his shoulders. "This still seems folly, my lady, but as you command, so shall I obey."

"Good" Alyssa accepted, before moving onto the next matter. "The state of the guard?"

Lucas lowered his head, knowing his next words may cause Lady Alyssa pain. "Ser Brynden's passing" he cursed the fact that he was right as his lady's gaze dropped, "has left us not only without a captain of the guards, but we have no one to train our new guardsmen. In truth, my lady" he admitted, "we have the numbers to walk the walls, yet many of them barely know which end of the sword to hold."

Fingers drummed against the hilt of River's Edge as Alyssa took this in. "Any other issues?" she sighed, gesturing for her niece to take her leave, as she doubted the problems would end so soon. A grateful Arya soon departed, and after she had gone, the maester cleared his throat.

"Since you mention it, my lady" Lucas ventured, hesitant to raise what he knew to be an important issue, yet one that Lady Alyssa would not take kindly to having mentioned; "there is one thing I feel I should bring up. Your heir" the young man toyed with his chain for a moment, before adding, "or rather, your lack of one."

"Lack of one?" Alyssa scoffed, unable to comprehend where the maester was coming from. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Maester Lucas? You know full well Arya is my heir."

"My lady, please". Lucas glanced about himself for a moment, ensuring they were truly alone, before he drew himself up and set his shoulders firmly. It was his duty to advise the Lady of Riverhold, and advise her he would, no matter her displeasure at his words. "Lady Arya is a fine young girl, but, Seven forbid, should you perish tomorrow, we both know she would not be fit to take your place. She knows too little, and neither your guards nor your bannermen would take commands from an uneducated child."

"True" Alyssa heaved a sigh. She mulled the problem over in her mind for a moment. "I suppose we could increase her lessons…"

A gently raised hand stopped her in her tracks. "With respect, my lady" Lucas explained, "I fear that would not help matters. It is already a challenge to convince Lady Arya to attend her lessons".

Blue eyes narrowed into slits. "Oh really?"

Despite the feeling of dread creeping down his spine, the young maester pressed on. "I fear so. Lady Arya prefers spending her time in the practice yard with sword in hand, and has expressed her disdain for 'boring books' as she calls them."

Alyssa pursed her lips, irritated at her niece's behaviour. "She cares for nothing besides skill with a sword. Just like myself at her age."

"As you say, my lady" Lucas replied, voice showing he doubted the benefits of such a comparison. To his surprise, his lady gave a cold smile, and he fought the urge to search for the wound that he was sure must have appeared on his body from the force of her gaze.

"That was not a compliment, maester". Lucas blinked, and Alyssa began pacing back and forth, hands folded behind her back. "When I was a girl" she explained, "I had no title to inherit, no lands to rule. I spent all my time training because earning glory on the battlefield was my only chance of earning a legitimisation and improving my lot in life. I was so sure my lessons would never be needed that I all but ignored my tutors." Gloved hands tightened into fists by her sides. "I was a fool. Arya, on the other hand, is brighter than I was and has responsibilities she shouldn't be shirking. It seems I must have a talk with her soon." She blew out a long breath, noting the sun rapidly sinking over the Red Fork. "But that is for another day. For the nonce, it has been a long day, and my bed calls. Good night, maester."

"And to you, my lady".

As the sun rose over Riverhold next morning, dawn saw Arya out on the training grounds, attacking training dummies with a ferocity that had seen her aunt's guardsmen refusing to practice with her any longer. Engaging the dummy's sword with the dagger in her off-hand, she twisted her arm to push its blade aside and then sank Needle through the gap in its mail straight into its armpit. "Hah!" To her surprise, slow applause met her ears and she spun on her heel, lashing out without even thinking.

Her arm jarred as her blade hit something solid and stopped still, Arya blinking in surprise to see her aunt standing there with sparring swords in hand, parrying her blow. "Not bad" her aunt praised, glancing at the rent in the straw dummy where Needle had pierced. She shook off her cloak and spread her feet. "But straw men don't fight back. Let's see how you do against a living woman".

"But" Arya objected, glancing from the live steel in her own hands to the practice weapons her aunt was holding, "you could get hurt!" The longsword angled up and over her aunt's left shoulder while the shorter blade pointed upwards to the right as she took her preferred stance. "Come on" she commanded, her voice making it clear she would hear no disagreement. Half-heartedly, Arya jabbed at her aunt's chest, wary of causing Alyssa real harm with the live steel in her hands, only for the strike to be slapped away and the blunt edge of her aunt's practice sword to slam into her ribs, doubling her over.

Arya dropped to her knees, gasping for air as her aunt stood over her, arms folded. "Maester Lucas tells me you've been skipping your lessons". A boot slid under Needle's blade as Arya tried to pull herself to her knees. "And spending all your time here." Alyssa kicked upwards, sending her niece's sword flying; Arya barely managed to catch the blade in time from her position on the ground. "Get up" Alyssa barked, and Arya pulled herself to her feet, still nursing her bruised chest. Bending over, she reached to pick up her dagger, Alyssa merely watching as Arya did so. Only when Arya was armed and ready once more did her aunt attack.

Her practice sword lashed out in a horizontal blow aimed at breaking her niece's nose, and as Arya desperately knocked it aside, the last of her restraint snapped and she stabbed Needle towards the gap between her aunt's helm and ringmail. The thrust was deflected, Arya ducking a return swipe and then four blades were flashing as the two Tullys went at each other with full force. Arya was using a modified version of Alyssa's own two-blade fighting style, so each used the advantages given by their own choice of weapons. Needle's thinner blade made Arya's attacks faster, but also removed the possibility of blocking with the delicate weapon. Alyssa's practice longsword was slower, but allowed her the versatility of defending with either hand.

As blades clashed and metal sparked, Alyssa couldn't help but feel a flash of pride in her niece despite all else. Alyssa had seen twenty-seven namedays, and yet Arya, a girl not half her age, was keeping up with her. It was a hit to her pride to admit that not only was her niece a better fighter than Alyssa was at her age, she would probably be better than her someday if she kept this level of practice up. That was why it hurt Alyssa more than anything, to do what she must, even though it would almost certainly destroy that possibility.

There was a reason that her uncle had been better than her father, and it wasn't that Brynden Tully had been a natural with a sword while Lord Hoster had no talent, quite the opposite in fact. In his youth, Hoster Tully had been quite the warrior, but that gradually faded after his father's death when he took up his duties as Lord of Riverrun. The time spent running the Riverlands and keeping his lords from each other's throats left Hoster little time to spend with a sparring sword in his hand, time that Brynden had no such restraints on.

Arya could be a true warrior of renown someday, but only if she devoted hours of practice each day to it, a commitment which would leave her little time for anything else, leaving her other obligations to fall by the wayside. Alyssa herself had been guilty of this during her first years as Riverhold's lady, leaving her uncle to run her castle and lands while she rode out to deal with bandits. It was only in these recent months that Alyssa had grasped the true scale of the amount of work that the Lady of Riverhold had, and had sadly accepted that she could not be a great warrior and a Lady both, a truth that Arya too, would have to understand.

Meeting her niece's next blow with her shorter blade, Alyssa twisted her wrist and trapped Needle's blade with the guard of her own weapon. Her longsword caught Arya's dagger in a similar bind and then Alyssa stepped inside her niece's reach, ending things by slamming her forehead into Arya's with a firm crunch. Stunned by the blow, Arya stumbled back and Alyssa seized the opportunity to ram her shoulder into the smaller Tully's chest, knocking her flat on her back. By the time Arya had recovered from the fall, her aunt's boot had stamped down on her right wrist, keeping Needle from moving, her other foot was firmly planted on the flat of Arya's dagger and her blunted practice weapons were crossed at Arya's throat, signalling Alyssa's victory.

Arya panted, blinking sweat out of her eyes while above her it dripped from her aunt's brow onto her chest. Uncurling her fingers, she released her grip on her weapons as a sign of her surrender. Cautiously, Alyssa moved them away from Arya's grip and only then did she move her blades away from Arya's neck. Tossing her shorter sword off to the side, Alyssa reached down with her left hand. Reaching up, Arya gripped it and allowed her aunt to help her to her feet. Breathing heavily, she walked over to her weapons and picked them up, sliding them into their sheaths one by one.

Utterly exhausted by the intense spar, Alyssa looked at the practice weapon in her hand and allowed it to fall from her fingers. Breathing heavily, she fingered a cut on her cheek and chuckled at the sight of blood smeared across her fingers. "Another three inches further and that would have been my neck" she remarked, smiling at Arya. "You've certainly gotten stronger, all this practice must be paying off." Her niece beamed, and Alyssa sighed so deeply that Arya's smile faded, the young girl sensing something was wrong. "How often do you see me out here training, Arya?"

"How often?" Arya echoed, searching her memories for the answer to her aunt's question. Arya usually preferred to train at first light, but she passed by the grounds many times each day, and she never saw Alyssa there, in fact her aunt could barely be found outside her solar working, and when she wasn't there, she was in the Great Hall hearing complaints and giving judgments. "Never, really".

"Never". Alyssa's face was bitter as she agreed with her niece's words. "And why is that? Do you think I simply choose not to practice? That I'm too lazy?"

Despite herself, Arya's hand automatically went to her bruised ribs, proof that her aunt had not let herself go to rust despite her lack of time devoted to training, and she found herself shaking her head.

"Believe me", continued Alyssa, "some days I'd like nothing better than to spend hours out here" she gave a sad smile, "but I can't do that. I'm the Lady of Riverhold, Arya, and I have responsibilities. Thousands, tens of thousands of people depend on me to make sure they have food in their bellies, clothes on their backs, roofs over their heads and steel in their hands to defend them against their enemies. This is my duty as Lady of Riverhold. And when I am gone, it will be yours."

"No" Arya spoke without thinking, refusing to accept that. She would not do what her aunt did, spending hours on trade agreements and hearing smallfolk complain about who owned what pig, not when she could be out in the world with a sword in her hand. "That's not me."

Alyssa's smile faded as she folded her arms, surveying her niece in a new light. "That's not a choice this world will let you make". Arya's mouth opened in confusion and Alyssa's eyes hardened. It was time for her stubborn niece to hear a few hard truths.

"You may not realise this" she began, "but House Tully is weaker now than mayhaps it ever has been. My brother has no heir of his body" both looked down at that, bitterly reminded of the cruel fact that Lady Roslin Tully had birthed a stillborn daughter a little more than two moons ago, "and his injury prevents him from ever fighting again. He cannot lead men, cannot command the army if it comes to war. Should Edmure pass tomorrow due to some unforeseen incident, though I dearly hope such a thing never happens" she assured Arya, "his bannermen would look to me to lead. As much as I never want to take my father's chair, I could if needs must and the Riverlands would remain stable.

But without an heir of my own, all someone would need to do to cripple not only House Tully, but the lands of the Trident, would be to assassinate Edmure and myself at once. Without a figure they can rally behind, my brother's former bannermen would fall to squabbling amongst themselves over who would be their new leader and everything I spent the last three years working towards vanishes just like", she snapped her fingers "that. People will die in the fighting, and more than likely the West or the Reach seizes the opportunity to strike us while we're weak and divided."

"But why does it have to be me?" insisted Arya, not backing down from her position. "Uncle Edmure isn't that old yet, he can still have children! And if you need an heir so badly, why don't you just get married?"

"Aside from the fact that any babe born even this minute would take years to grow?" Alyssa's tone was as dry as the Dornish sands. "Instead of Edmure's bannermen fighting over who would be the next Lord, instead they'd be fighting over who would be regent to the next Lord. No, it'll be hard enough to convince them to follow a girl who hasn't yet seen six and ten namedays, a babe still in swaddling clothes is out of the question." She stared directly at Arya. "No, you're the only option available, not that you've made things easier so far, quite the opposite in fact."

"What do you mean?"

Alyssa closed her eyes for a moment. "Birthright is one requirement" she said slowly, trying not to lose her temper, "but it isn't everything. For an heir outside the direct line to be accepted, you would also have to be respected and known by those who would become your vassals. They have to trust you to be able to rule well and keep the peace." Alyssa shook her head. "You have some renown as a warrior, true, but what leadership skills have you shown? What ability at rule? Nothing, save your talent at avoiding your lessons."

"I'm sorry" Arya snapped, annoyed that her aunt kept bringing up this one point. "But it's all so boring, the maester just keeps talking about alliances and agreements. Do I really need to know all of this?"

Alyssa clenched her fists, trying her best not to strike her fool niece. "How many men can Riverhold raise in time of war?"

"Fifteen hundred" Arya replied without hesitation, sure that she knew this.

"Wrong" Alyssa shot back, and Arya blinked in surprise. "I surrendered a portion of my lands to Edmure so he could start building his new city around Riverrun. We have fourteen hundred swords at the moment, which you would have known about" she emphasised, "had you listened to Maester Lucas yesterday rather than running off to go riding." Before Arya could open her mouth, Alyssa shot off another question. "Who is my most powerful bannerman?"

This at least, Arya knew. "House Smallwood, of Acorn Hall".

"Their sigil and words" Alyssa demanded, and Arya screwed up her face for a moment, trying hard to recall. She remembered something about it, it was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't get the words out. At last, it came to her. "Six brown acorns" she sighed in relief, "on yellow. Their words are 'From These Beginnings'." Arya was proud of herself for remembering, but the dark look on her aunt's face had her joy fading in a moment.

"Far too slow" Alyssa proclaimed, "I could have told you that without thinking. Let's try a harder one, who is the current Lord of Acorn Hall?"

This Arya could not recall, no matter how she tried, and after a few moments she let her shoulders slump in defeat. "I don't know" she sighed to her aunt, who appeared even less impressed with her answer.

"Lord Theomar Smallwood" Alyssa informed her niece. "His lady wife was Ravella Swann before she wed, which means that House Smallwood tends to have sympathies towards House Swann and the Stormlands as a whole when crafting trade agreements. Her great-aunt is a septa in Oldtown, so the Smallwoods might also be reluctant to make war on the Reach. All these are things I have to keep in mind when dealing with my vassals, along with another hundred things besides."

"All right!" shouted an irate Arya, "I understand. I don't know enough about your lords or your lands."

"No" Alyssa insisted, "you don't understand. You won't just have to take my place as Lady of Riverhold if the worst happens, but replace my brother as Lord of all the Riverlands." She stared hard into her niece's eyes. "Can you honestly tell me that you'd be ready to claim Riverrun tomorrow, or even within the next year or two, if an accident claimed Edmure and I? Of course not" she stated, not even waiting for Arya's answer. "This isn't fair" she soothed, kneeling down to Arya's level to peer into her niece's eyes, "and I know that. You're having to learn in a few years what I was taught over the course of my life, and it's hard. But for the good of the Riverlands, it's what has to happen. Understand?" She kept her eyes locked on Arya's until at last, her niece gave a reluctant nod.

"Good". Alyssa rose from her crouch and picked up her practice swords, holding them under one arm. "Then from now on, you'll be spending less time out here and more time with the maester, learning not only how to rule Riverhold but the entire Riverlands if it comes to that. Also" her frown returned, "as punishment for missing your previous lessons, you are banned from training until Maester Lucas tells me you've caught up with the work you missed."

"But that will take weeks" Arya objected, furious that her aunt would betray her like this. Alyssa was her heroine, a woman who refused to do what society wanted and wielded swords instead of needles, armor instead of dresses, but instead of supporting Arya like she had during the war, her aunt was forbidding her to fight!

Alyssa's lips pursed. "Then you'd better get started, hadn't you?" She refused to give an inch on this, for it was the only way her niece would learn not to shirk her duties. Her eyes flicked to Arya's belt, where Needle hung from her right hip. "And if I catch you training before I give you permission again, I'll take your weapons from you until you earn them back."

At this threat to her beloved blade Arya gasped, clutching the hilt protectively but Alyssa had already turned on her heel and walked away, mind already having moved onto the next matter on the list of half a hundred she had to see to that day, for a Lady's work was never done.

Alyssa's threats had had an effect of Arya, though not necessarily the desired one, for while the venomous looks Arya shot her aunt had the elder Tully never going near her niece without a blade of some sort on her person; Maester Lucas had been happy to inform his Lady that Arya had indeed resumed attending her lessons. Not only that, but she had hurled herself into her studies with determination, and was at this rate, likely to have made up the work she had missed within the space of two weeks. His estimation proved to be not quite accurate, as Arya's initial furious zeal faded after the first few days, and her work rate slowed. Still, three weeks after she had begun, Arya was practicing for the first time since her punishment had been lifted, working on her forms alone atop one of the towers when she saw the banner, and Needle dropped out of her hand as it flew to her mouth in a gasp of shock.

The grey direwolf of House Stark was approaching Riverhold's gates. Barely remembering to pick up her beloved sword, Arya struggled to sheath the blade while moving for a few moments until that done with, she climbed down the ladder, sprinted down the stairs to the yard and then started running towards the keep and her aunt's solar, hurrying to alert Alyssa that she had visitors. She needn't have bothered, for if she had stopped to think, she would have recalled that Riverhold had more than just the one watchtower. Halfway to the hall she skidded to a halt to stop herself slamming into her aunt, blue and red cloak billowing as she strode towards the gates, one of her knights carrying her banner.

Acknowledging Arya's presence with a nod and a smile, Alyssa gestured and Arya took her place beside her aunt as the two passed through the gatehouse and outside the walls, waiting for the party to approach. As the group drew closer, Alyssa shaded her eyes with her hand, peering at their sigils and her eyes narrowed. While they flew the Stark banner, the armoured knights escorting the figure in the centre wore armor displaying the heraldry of House Tully and smaller lords sworn directly to Riverrun. For her brother to send his knights to escort a Stark to Riverhold meant something was very wrong.

The riders drew rein, and Alyssa got a closer look at the group. There were five of them, that much she could determine, four knights escorting a central figure, a woman in a long black gown. The woman raised her head, allowing long hair a familiar shade of red to catch the noonday sunlight as the knights helped her off her horse, and even before her identity was announced, Arya was already running.

"Mother!" She cried, racing at her full tilt, and Catelyn Stark, as befitted a woman who had raised five children and had two more running around her castle, took Arya's charge without so much as swaying, sweeping her daughter into her arms with a smile of joy. Alyssa motioned to her men to have her brother's knights given food and lodgings, as they deserved after spending days on the road, and waited for her sister and niece to have their moment. After Catelyn had at last released her daughter, Alyssa stepped forward.

"Greetings, sister. Welcome back to my home. The hospitality of Riverhold is of course yours, but I must ask what brings you here? As I knew it" she recalled, "you were returning to the North, along with my other niece." The distance between Winterfell and Riverhold meant that for Catelyn to be here so soon after heading North, she must have headed south immediately after returning to the North.

At the mention of Sansa, Catelyn's expression grew dark, and Arya found herself once again reminded how the two women were sisters, for it was the same expression her aunt often gave when displeased. "Not here" Catelyn muttered, clutching something inside her gown. "Shall we speak in your solar?"

"By all means" Alyssa invited, and nothing more was said until the three were safely inside Alyssa's sanctum, the door closed and locked. Alyssa took a seat behind her desk, her sister and niece seated on chairs next to each other facing her direction. "So" she spread her hands, inviting Catelyn to speak. Instead of words, the Dowager Lady of Winterfell removed a crumpled parchment from inside her gown and rose from her chair to hand it to her sister, sinking back into her seat as soon as she did so. Raising an eyebrow, Alyssa unfolded the document and began reading, only for her jaw to drop. After a moment, Alyssa returned to the top and began reading again, this time aloud for Arya's benefit.

"For her actions" Alyssa narrated, "in seizing Tyrion Lannister, bringing war to the Riverlands and as a result causing the deaths of thousands of Northmen" Arya clenched a fist at the insult to her mother's name, "by unanimous decision of the Lords of the North, Lady Catelyn Stark, born Catelyn Tully, is hereby exiled from Winterfell and the lands above the Neck" Alyssa paused, "on pain of death." She tossed the parchment onto her desk, rubbing at her eyes as if the very sight of it made her tired. "Signed by Roose Bolton, Lord Protector of the North and every one of House Stark's bannermen has set his seal to it". Alyssa blew out a long breath. "Hells, Catelyn, what brought this on?"

"Bolton" Catelyn hissed, having put the pieces together during the weeks she spent riding back to her brother's seat, "he wants me out of the way so he can control Rickon".

Arya seized Needle's hilt, blade already half out of its sheath. "If he lays one hand on my brother I'll…"

"Die" Catelyn reminded her daughter sharply, "the moment you set one foot over the Neck". She shook her head in despair. "This wasn't a spur of the moment act, this was planned in advance. Lord Umber, Lady Mormont, none of Robb's loyal supporters objected to this, clearly Lord Bolton has been making deals and buying favours for some time. By the time I arrived, it was as good as done; a rider met me on the road and gave me that before I even reached Moat Cailin."

Alyssa shook her head, absorbing the situation. Her sister was exiled from the North, and effectively homeless. Her next action was practically required by custom. "The hospitality of Riverhold is yours, sister" she offered, "for as long as necessary." To Alyssa's surprise, Catelyn shook her head.

"A kind offer" she smiled, "and I thank you for it. But our brother has already granted me my old rooms back."

Alyssa tilted her head, accepting that. "Then, forgive me" she ventured, "but why are you here?"

Catelyn spread her arms. "To see my daughter" she answered simply.

"But" her sister pointed out, "if you want to see Arya, why not take me up on my offer? You could live here and see her every day!"

"Because, Catelyn sighed, " that would be too painful". Arya gasped, wounded by her mother's words and Catelyn was quick to reassure her daughter. "Not by you, Arya, by being too close to you and not being able to be your mother." Her words were met by two blank stares, and she heaved another sigh, this one much deeper. "When your aunt took you as her heir, Arya" she explained, "she not only took you into her home, but took authority over you as well. If I was to see her teaching you something I, or Ned" Arya glanced down at the mention of her father, "would not approve of, I would be powerless to do anything about it. I'd never be able to truly be your mother, Arya, and I'm not strong enough to just sit and watch as my sister raises my daughter.

That isn't to say I don't mean to take your aunt up on her offer of hospitality and visit often" she promised her daughter, noticing the tears just starting to form in Arya's eyes, "but living with you all year round would just hurt too much. That said" she suddenly smiled, "I'm here now, so come Arya, show me what you have learnt under your aunt's wing." Arya blushed red, and Catelyn found herself wondering what her sister found so funny as Alyssa burst out into full-blown laughter.

Catelyn was as good as her word, and every fortnight she could be found riding down to Riverhold, to spend a day or so talking with her daughter, sitting in on Arya's lessons or merely watching from afar as Arya spent some of the precious little time she could spare, on the practice field. She would stay the night, then on the morrow she would ride for Riverrun once more, bidding a sad farewell to Arya before departing. Every time she left, she took longer and longer to say her farewells, and Alyssa began to notice a pattern. During her sister's next visit, she waited until Catelyn was occupied sitting with Arya in her chambers and then made her way to the maester's tower. Quickly, she penned a message to her brother, enquiring about their sister's emotional wellbeing while she was at their family's seat, and asking what Catelyn did to occupy herself.

Her brother's reply when it arrived the next day, was not good. Oh Catelyn spent time doing the same things all highborn girls did, sewing, riding, hawking and so on, but much of her time she just stared out the window over the Red Fork in the direction of the North. As Alyssa expected, Catelyn had grown used to the amount of effort it took to run Winterfell, not to mention advising her husband as he ruled the North.

Riverrun however, had a Lord already, and his wife, while young, was still a highborn. Walder Frey might be a miserly old man, but even he knew that he had to train his daughters as noblewomen if he wanted them to make good marriages someday. Utherydes Wayn had served as Riverrun's steward since before Alyssa was born, and though he was fond of Catelyn, he would see her attempting to assist in his duties as an insult, for it would be as good as saying that he was no longer trusted to run the castle.

The other problem Edmure had mentioned, was the treatment Catelyn was receiving from many of his bannermen. Jason Mallister remained courteous as always, though the Lord of Seagard was slightly more given to growing irritable for no reason after his injury in Catelyn's Trial of Seven, and according to the maester, would likely remain so for the rest of his days. Jonos Bracken however, still blamed Catelyn for the death of his men and capture of his castle early in the war, and the Lord of Stone Hedge had all but spat at her the one time he had visited Riverrun. Edmure's other lords were polite enough, though most regarded Catelyn coldly, and would until the scars of the war healed.

Clearly, life at Riverrun was not suiting Catelyn, and Alyssa knew exactly why. For much of her sister's life, their father had believed he would have no sons to inherit Riverrun, so he had begun training his eldest daughter to succeed him. Even after Edmure's birth, Catelyn had taken up the responsibilities of being Lady of Riverrun in all but name following her mother's death, running the keep while Lord Hoster was consumed by his grief. Catelyn was made for the life of the great lady she had been raised as, and she deserved better than sitting around her brother's castle in her widow's weeds, growing old.

The next time Catelyn came to visit, Alyssa raised that very issue with her sister in her solar as she sat near the window watching Arya practice with a tear in her eye.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Catelyn". Alyssa placed her hand on her sister's shoulder as gently as she could. "I see the pain you go through every time you say farewell to Arya, why keep torturing yourself like this?"

"She's my daughter" Catelyn muttered, wiping away a tear, "my baby girl. Robb and Bran are gone, Rickon and Sansa may as well be, for I'll never see them again. Arya is the last of my children left to me, what would you have me do?"

"Not pine your life away over the memory of a dead man" Alyssa shot back, casting a glance at Catelyn's black gown. That got the desired reaction and the wistful regret in her sister's eyes turned to burning rage as Catelyn clenched her fists.

"How dare you!" she shouted, only just holding back from striking her sister in her insolent face. "How dare you disrespect the memory of my husband like that! Eddard Stark was a good man, who gave me five wonderful children and…"

Before she could finish, Alyssa cut her off without mercy, "and now he is dead". Before Catelyn could shout again, or worse, go all sad over the reminder of her husband, Alyssa decided to get to her point. "Two of your children are dead, another two beyond your reach. Arya alone remains to you, yet in time she too will grow old, marry and have children of her own. The time will come" Alyssa pointed out in sympathy, "when she no longer needs her mother any more, and then what will you do?

You said it yourself, Catelyn" she reminded her sister, "Eddard Stark was a good man. He wouldn't want you to waste your remaining years away mourning him, after he gave his life to save yours". That did strike home, and Catelyn glanced down at the floor in shame. "You're still young yet, Catelyn" Alyssa urged, pressing her advantage, "it's not too late for you to marry again. You could find another husband who will care for you, and give him many children you can dote upon until your twilight years".

Despite her best efforts, Catelyn was clearly weakening, Alyssa could see it in her sister's eyes, the momentary flash of wistful desire to have children she could call hers once again, and Alyssa took this moment to play her final card. Catelyn was a daughter of Riverrun, and their House words might as well have been engraved upon her heart at birth. Alyssa had touched upon her sister's desire to spend her old age surrounded by her family. Now it was time to appeal to her duty to House Tully. "You could be the Lady of a keep again" she coaxed, "and mayhaps help Edmure at the same time by tying one of his lords closer to Riverrun."

Her words were clearly having an effect, but that last statement was clearly one bridge too far, as Catelyn's eyes hardened and her spine grew stiff. Alyssa suspected she had overplayed her hand as her sister rounded on her.

"And pray tell, which candidates have you in mind for my next husband" she hissed, Alyssa taking a hesitant step back. "Who would you have me wed? Karyl Vance? Tytos Blackwood?" Her lips drew back into a snarl. "Or, mayhaps, you were thinking of Jason Mallister?"

Despite herself, Alyssa couldn't keep the grimace from showing at the pointed question, for she knew now the game was up. Her sister had guessed not only who Alyssa hoped to betroth her to, but had discovered the true reason why Alyssa had suggested such a marriage. Lord Jason Mallister still despised Alyssa after Ashemark, and with Edmure unable to command the Tully forces in time of war, it was doubtful the Lord of Seagard would fight under Alyssa's command the next time Edmure called the banners. This meant that Seagard could not be counted on to support House Tully next time the Riverlands were attacked.

"You want me to marry Lord Jason" Catelyn growled, "to tie Riverrun and Seagard closer together. Need I remind you" she squeezed out through gritted teeth, "that I am still in mourning" she shook her black gown for emphasis, "and my husband has been dead less than six moons?"

Alyssa held up her hands as if to ward off her sister, attempting to reduce the tension in the room. "Well, no" she conceded, "but the year's period of mourning is a tradition, not a lawful requirement. Besides" time to pull on her sister's sense of responsibility again, "it's your duty to House Tully to help the family by making a good marriage."

"My duty?" Catelyn choked out, face rapidly suffusing with red from her anger, and Alyssa barely had enough time to think that she might have made a mistake here before her sister exploded with rage.

"You, of all people" Catelyn roared, "have the gall to dare speak to me of a woman's duty to marry? When you yourself have taken no husband and the one alliance you did make for House Tully now hangs by a thread? And you want me to fix the mess you made?" Clenching her fists so tightly her nails dug into her flesh and her palms bled, Catelyn drew a breath through her nose, calming herself. "If House Tully needs alliances so badly, why not put your own pride aside and show an example by getting married yourself?"

"All right."

"Of course you would say that, you-what?"

Calmly, Alyssa repeated herself. "All right."

Catelyn blinked, anger vanishing in her shock and sat down hard into a chair that happily, was close by. "Really? After all you said about never marrying and having Arya inherit Riverhold, you're giving in just like that?"

"Not entirely" Alyssa admitted, fumbling in one of her desk drawers for a moment. "In truth" she confessed, "I've been thinking about this subject for some time now. The girl I was might have sworn to never marry, but the woman I am knows better. And with Joffrey's Peace declared, I know I won't be required to lead a host for the next few years. There's no better time for me to marry, that way if all goes well I can get the children out of the way early and get my body back in shape in time to take the field again by the time the five years are up."

Catelyn would have said something about approaching the subject of children so callously, but her sister wouldn't have reacted. Catelyn loved her children, but she knew that was not the norm for her class. Highborn women had a tendency to push children off on wetnurses and servants to raise, until they were old enough to pick up a sword or be taught to dance. In other words, leave the unpleasant parts of raising babes to others until they were old enough that much of the work had been done. Children, to Alyssa, would be a way to extend her line and secure Riverhold's succession, little more than that.

Shaking her head in disgust, Catelyn watched as her sister gave a cry of triumph, having clearly found what she was searching for, and straightened up with a folded piece of parchment in her hand. Smiling, she handed it to Catelyn, who took it with a look of bemusement. "What is this?"

"Like I said" Alyssa informed her, "I've been thinking about marrying for some time now, and I think best by writing things down. What you have here is the qualities I am looking for in a good husband, though one or two are most certainly not optional." Blue eyes locked onto an identical set as she stared at Catelyn for a moment. "Help me find a man who meets these conditions" she held up the parchment again, "and I'll send the raven to begin negotiating the marriage that same day, I swear that on our uncle's name."

Catelyn gasped, unable to believe her sister would go so far, for both women knew that such an oath was something Alyssa would sooner gut herself with a rusty dagger than break. Sucking in a breath, Catelyn unfolded the parchment and began to read her sister's demands in a prospective husband. "Must be able to give me children" she read aloud, rolling her eyes with a sigh. "Well, that was obvious". Shaking her head, she returned to the list. "Must be from the Riverlands" she quoted, "preferably a Noble House not already firmly tied to Riverrun. This means no Freys!" Despite herself, Catelyn couldn't help but smile at her sister's flushed face, for the last two words had been underlined three times and punctuated with a multitude of exclamation marks.

The remainder of Alyssa's terms however, would be much harder to fulfil. "Must be willing to take my name" Catelyn frowned, peering at the parchment closely. "Riverhold belongs to House Tully, and always will. Difficult" she remarked, "but not impossible. Plenty of younger sons or heirs would consider giving up their name a fair trade for gaining control of Riverhold."

Alyssa's mouth dropped into a scowl at that, and her face was dark as thunder, leaving Catelyn to worry that the worst was yet to come. "Keep reading".

This did nothing to reassure Catelyn as she read her sister's fourth term. "Must understand that Riverhold is mine" once again, the last word had multiple forms of emphasis added to it. "Prospective husband" despite everything, it amused her that her sister was discussing her future groom in such an off-handed manner, "may become Lord Tully after our marriage, but he will never be my lord husband" Catelyn tossed the parchment aside. "Alyssa" she urged, "you can't say this to a man and expect him to agree to marry you, are you mad?"

"No" replied a calm Alyssa, "because I won't be showing him. This isn't a list of demands, these are personal notes on what I am looking for in a husband. Once I find myself a candidate who meets these requirements, I mean to open contract negotiations and make up some story as to why I chose the man in question. As to the answer to your question, you obviously haven't read all the list yet. I know I can seem cold, but there are some things even I'm not fool enough to say to someone."

For no other reason than a sense of morbid curiosity, Catelyn leaned over in her seat to retrieve the parchment and continued reading where she had left off. "Trying to give me commands and expect me to obey him as his lady wife" the sarcasm in the last two words was all but bleeding through the ink, "will result in him receiving something very sharp" Catelyn rubbed her eyes, now knowing exactly why this note would never see the outside of Alyssa's solar, "somewhere very painful". With a sigh, she moved on to her sister's final term, which after the others, was almost a disappointment. "In time of war, I will command Riverhold's army, so any prospective husband must be capable of leading the garrison and defending Riverhold in my absence".

Tugging at her hair for a moment and resisting the urge to scream at her sister, or even just out the window, anything really to vent her building emotions, Catelyn closed her eyes, took a deep breath and allowed the training drilled into her by her septa and tutors as a girl to take effect. Only when her mind was calm and her expression schooled did she open her eyes and turn to the task her sister had placed in front of her. If nothing else, it was a challenge and that would at least give her something to do.

"All right" she began, "let's start from the basics. You said a Noble House of the Riverlands not already firmly loyal to House Tully, so let's start there". Without thinking, Catelyn began to tick off possible candidates to remove on her fingers. "The former Lannister bannermen are depending on Edmure to protect them from Lord Tywin" she remarked, "and House Piper is joined to House Lefford besides. Not only is Marq Piper, well, Marq Lefford now" she corrected herself after a moment, "Edmure's friend, but Lord Clement still considers you an ally after the war. There's no need to worry about Pinkmaiden or any of the Western Houses.

By the same token" she continued, "House Frey don't need any more incentive to stay close to House Tully, nor do House Vance of Wayfarer's Rest, as Lord Karyl Vance remains your closest ally. Jason Mallister is...closer to my age than yours" Catelyn conceded, "and I've had my suspicions for some time that he has feelings for me. His gifts at my wedding to Ned were ornate and costly, far more so than was expected, and he stood for me at my trial. Wedding him" she sighed in defeat as she admitted the truth to herself, "would be a way of repaying that loyalty, and yes, it would repair relations between Riverrun and Seagard."

Catelyn wanted to laugh, for though her sister's words had failed to persuade her to marry Lord Jason to fix her mistake, it seems that Catelyn's own logic had convinced herself! "All right" she conceded, and her sister's eyes flashed with triumph, "I suppose if I were to remarry, Lord Jason would be ideal". She pointed a finger straight at Alyssa, "but ideal or not" she glared at her sister, angry that helping her sister find a husband had somehow nearly ended up with she herself agreeing to marry, "I refuse to even consider taking a new husband yet, not when Ned hasn't even been gone a year!"

"Understandable" Alyssa smiled, more than willing to be magnanimous in her slight victory, "all I ask is that once that year is over, you keep the prospect in mind. But back to my own prospective nuptials, continue please."

Muttering under her breath, Catelyn turned her thoughts away from her possible future husband and back to helping find her sister find one. "Patrek Mallister is nearer to your age" she informed Alyssa, "though as Lord Jason's only son there's no chance of him allowing you to take his heir" she admitted, before moving on to the other Houses that had to be removed from contention before they moved onto the next step. "House Roote has a boy lord, Lychester, Darry and Whent are gone. Lord Paege already has a wife, as does Lord Goodbrook, and Goodbrook's heirs are children. Lord Mooton would never agree to wed you in a thousand years after you threatened to hang him" though Catelyn would never have wished the fleshy, coward Lord of Maidenpool on her sister regardless.

With around half her brother's bannermen disqualified for various reasons, Catelyn now considered her sister's requirement for any husband to take her name. "Lord Vypren has no heirs" she pointed out, "so he's out. Lord Norbert Vance is a blind old man, and his heirs are not yet men grown, while Lord Hawick's only heir is a girl, and the man himself is already married, the same for Lord Bracken. And Lord Ryger's son was recently betrothed, while again, Lord Ryger himself has already wed." Mentally removing the names of those who had already been rejected from a list in her mind, Catelyn, upon realising who was left, gave a short laugh.

"Well" she informed her sister, spreading her hands, "as far as I can see you have three options. The first, is to marry outside the Riverlands"...

The last word was barely out of her mouth before she received an immediate reply. "Never" her sister snapped, with such venom that Catelyn knew Alyssa would never bend on this.

Holding up her hands in acceptance, she let that one drop. "The second option" she proposed, "is that you change your requirements."

Alyssa's mouth twisted in thought for a moment. "Let's...leave that one for now" she said, hesitating.

"Then I'm afraid" Catelyn paused a heartbeat to increase the drama, "that your only choice left is to look for your future husband at Raventree Hall."

"A Blackwood?" Alyssa leaned back in her chair, contemplating the possibility. House Blackwood was certainly powerful, able to command just over two thousand one hundred fighting men, and the archers of Raventree Hall were renowned throughout Westeros. Usually House Tully tried to avoid marrying into one side or the other of the infamous Blackwood-Bracken feud, but in this case it should be safe enough. Jonos Bracken had no sons, so he had no cause to accuse Alyssa of favouring the raven over the stallion. Not to mention, that between Edmure's allies and Alyssa's, they had more than enough swords at their disposal to crush both Houses should they start up their idiotic fighting again.

The other thing to consider, Alyssa realised with a start, was the changing state of the Riverlands. The Blackwoods provided the Riverlands with its crack archers, while the Brackens, elite cavalry. When the two came to blows, it was usually the Brackens who were the aggressors, their cavalry thundering forward through a rain of arrows. If enough cavalry were slain before they reached the archers, the Blackwoods would be victorious, but if not, then the Raventree lines would break and it was the Brackens who triumphed. Attack and defence, evenly balanced, and traditionally the two Houses were of equal importance to House Tully.

The recent changes to the Riverlands however, had disrupted that balance. Edmure's announcement of the canals and their new defensive strategy, had shifted the Riverlands military philosophy from active to passive defence. The days of House Tully and its bannermen meeting invaders in the field at the head of a mass of charging horse would soon be gone, to be replaced by archers who would rain shafts on the foe as they tried in vain to cross the canals. Even if they somehow made it through despite that, they would be met with a wall of spears and pikes at the other bank. Cavalry were less important now, and so too were House Bracken, that was the long and short of it.

House Blackwood was more powerful than Alyssa's own, able to muster more than twice the fighting men, but Alyssa's ties to the Lord of Riverrun allowed her to punch above her weight, so to speak, when it came to marriage offers. Asking the heir of Raventree Hall to give up his birthright to become, effectively, her consort was out of the question of course, but Lord Tytos Blackwood had been blessed with four sons, and Riverhold itself was quite a prize. Alyssa was sure that one of Lord Tytos' sons would be willing to trade his chance at inheriting Raventree Hall should his father and older brothers die, for the title of Lord Tully, even if it only came with partial control of Riverhold's lands and armies.

Upon recalling the name of the heir to Raventree Hall, Alyssa was suddenly very glad that she was not intending to marry him, as wedding a man with the same name as the uncle who had been closer to her than her own father would have been odd, to say the least. Lord Tytos' second son, Lucas, was a man of nineteen, and it was he who Alyssa decided upon. Comely enough as such things went, not that it particularly mattered to her, Lucas Blackwood was decent with a sword, and loyal to family, as well as those he considered friends. Sealing the matter for Alyssa, was that House Blackwood had numerous side branches, meaning that Lucas had many cousins, one of whom could surely be depended upon to fill the vacant position of Riverhold's Master at Arms.

Absently explaining as much to her sister even as she wrote, Alyssa penned a brief letter to Lord Tytos explaining that she was looking for a husband, and expressing her interest in wedding his second-born son. Tytos Blackwood was a clever man, cunning as the raven on his banner, and she had no doubt that he would piece together quickly the true reason behind his son's selection, so she felt no need to include any but the barest detail. Sealing the parchment with her familiar dolphin in blue wax, she called for a servant and commanded the letter be taken to Maester Lucas, with instructions to send it to Raventree Hall.

Scarce a day passed before a raven was winging its way to Riverhold with a return message. Lord Tytos agreed to the match, and the time and place of the marriage need but be decided. As for any sort of payment from either party, the unusual circumstances of a woman asking for a man's hand made it near impossible to do so without making Lucas a laughing-stock. Instead, the cunning Lord Tytos claimed, he sent one of his younger brothers to serve as Riverhold's Master at Arms, so as his son would at least have that worry taken care of. The man would be accompanied by twenty of Lord Tytos' elite longbowmen, ostensibly for his protection, but in reality, to help train Alyssa's guards in archery.

That, Alyssa knew, was Lord Tytos' true gift, the possibility that one day in the future, her bowmen might be spoken of in the same breath as the expert archers of House Blackwood. Given the responsibility House Tully had for defending the canal running over the River Road, such expertise might well be the difference between victory and defeat for the Riverlands one day. Alyssa did not intend to look such a gift horse in the mouth, and at once began planning an extensive training regimen for her archers.

With the arrangements made for his sister's marriage, Edmure sent ravens to all his lords inviting them to Riverrun once again in a moon's time, this time to attend a wedding. Alyssa might be Lady of Riverhold now, but she was still family, and with many of his bannermen like to be attending, it made sense to hold the ceremony at Riverrun rather than in Alyssa's own tiny sept. As Alyssa stood in Riverrun's sept waiting for her soon-to-be husband to appear, she couldn't help but miss the familiar weight of her blue oiled ringmail. Despite her dislike for women's dresses, a wedding was no place for armor, and so she had swallowed her disgust and donned her own, simpler gown, though she had been careful about doing so.

The cloth was of a lesser material than the silken gown her sisters had worn to their own weddings, but triple-layered, and with steel wires cleverly woven through it, providing a weak kind of protection should the unthinkable happen and she be attacked during the wedding. With neither the guests nor the groom bringing weapons, Alyssa had no cause to do the same, and had reluctantly left her double swordbelt aside for the first time in mayhaps years, instead leaving it outside the sept with Ser Robin Ryger, the captain of her brother's guards promising to bring them to her should there be the slightest sign of anything going wrong. In the privacy of his own thoughts, the man doubted anything would go wrong, but it was better not to question the Witch of Ashemark after all.

As the septon began to drone on about the gods and their love, Alyssa fought the urge not to grimace at the upcoming situation, for this marriage signalled more than the end of her days as a single woman. The purpose of this union was to produce children, and hopefully soon. That meant nine moons of setting her swords aside, barely being able to move as she watched her body grow to the size of a beached whale and then even after that, moons of exercise before she was even anywhere close to back in fighting shape. This was of course assuming that she even survived the birth at all. Despite all Alyssa's ability with a blade, childbirth was a woman's battle, and only luck and the skill of a good maester determined who lived and who died.