Chapter 5 3
Vale of Arryn. The Eyrie. 273-278 AC.
Jon Arryn
What did I make of Elena Royce?
When I first met her, she struck me as an attractive young lady from a distinguished and well-blooded house. But everything changed at the tournament in Gulltown. As long as I have lived, tournaments and feasts never change. Lords, regrettably, do not either. Everyone always wants something from me. These webs of lies and pretense wore on me so thoroughly that I sometimes felt like taking the black.
The troubles with Rowena did nothing to lift my spirits. There was no love between us, only mutual respect. Before her, I was married to Jeyne of House Royce, but she had died in childbirth which left a gaping hole inside me. And so it grieved me, and at times drove me to despair, that I could not father children with Rowena. I was not growing younger, and I wanted, even hungered, to know the joy of fatherhood. But the gods are cruel and in no great hurry to answer the prayers of ordinary men. All of it pressed down on me like a weight I could not lift, and so from time to time I allowed myself to drown every trouble in wine.
Having drunk a little and sat through the required hours of the feast, I pleaded exhaustion and made for my chambers. On the way a girl came rushing around a corner and collided with me. It took me a moment to realize it was Lady Elena Royce, the only daughter of Lord Robar Royce. Her face was streaked with tears, and I decided to walk her to her chambers, filling the time with easy conversation. The plan fell apart rather early. I cannot say when the conversation between two strangers turned into something closer to a confession on my part. I told her everything that weighed on me, as though she were a septon. She in turn listened with what felt like genuine sympathy and quietly encouraged me, and her sincerity showed both in the words themselves and in her eyes. Her beautiful grey eyes. The next moment there was a kiss. She did not pull away. I spent the whole night with her.
By morning I understood the mistake I had made. What I had done had broken her life. It would have been far simpler had she come from a minor house, but she was a Royce of Runestone. The Royces were among the most powerful bannermen of the Vale, yielding little to the Arryns in standing. They would never give their daughter away as a simple mistress. And so we agreed to act as though nothing had happened, yet I looked back on those two days with something like warmth. It is remarkable how little a man truly needs to be glad. For me it was enough to have spoken plainly with someone, without lies or performance.
I returned to the Eyrie, where my wards were waiting for me: Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark. At supper that evening I looked at them, thought of my conversations with Elena, and understood two things. I missed those conversations. And the world already had enough lies in it. So I asked Robert and Eddard to speak plainly with me, and began to do the same with them.
At first they were skeptical. But Robert adapted very quickly. Ned held out for three months, though water wears stone down in the end, and each conversation opened a little more than the last.
At a certain point I realized that I had come to see them as the children I never had. I began to pour every part of myself into their education and upbringing. They felt it and gave the same in return. It was a wonderful year, full of laughter and unexpected discoveries. I still think fondly of the two young idiots who slipped into my wine cellar, and of what their explorations led to: Ned being sick on my boots while trying to buy Robert a few more seconds to hide a pretty girl under his bed. I pretended not to notice the girl but had them punished for the drinking, instructing the maester to withhold any remedy for their headaches. They sulked about the castle all day. When wine was poured at supper, Ned went nearly green again.
But all good things come to an end sooner or later. My wife Rowena died of a common cold. It was a painful thing. Her death left something hollow in my chest. Whether that was love or simply habit, whether I had grown to regard her as something owed to me and permanent, I could not say. For three days I could not pull myself out of it. Nothing held any interest for me. But Robert and Ned stayed close. Robert made jokes and tried to drag me out hunting, and I could not have cared less. But Eddard... One evening Ned came to me and reminded me of my duty as the Lord Paramount of the Vale. Duty. All my life my father spoke of nothing but duty. Duty to the Arryns, to the vassals, to the smallfolk, to the gods, to everything. It used to infuriate me. But in time I came to understand and accept it as the way of things.
The following day I resumed my duties as Lord Paramount. It consisted mainly of writing replies to counterfeit condolences. The more letters I read, the hotter my anger grew. My wife was dead! She was barely in the ground, and this flock of vultures had already descended to pick at the carcass.
When a raven arrived from Runestone, I expected it to be exactly the same: false condolences, a reminder of my duty to the Vale and to House Arryn, a description of some lovely sister or daughter or granddaughter who would give me an heir. It was nearly all of that. The condolences, and then an invitation from Robar Royce to visit Runestone. I frowned at the tone, which was close to a summons, but when Elena was mentioned alongside some unspecified gift she had been given, I found I could no longer follow what he was writing. I had given Elena nothing before my departure, not wanting to invite suspicion, yet the letter spoke plainly of a gift I had left her.
I read it through several times. A suspicion began to form, and I pushed it aside and told myself I would return to it in the morning.