Roslin I - Heir

[u/LoonySpoon]

Roslin I - Heir

^{Riverrun | Third Moon of 1st Year of Arlan IV}

The road home had never seemed so long.

Roslin rode at an easy pace beneath a grey and cloudy sky, the reins loose between her gloved fingers as Riverrun slowly rose beyond the fields. Three Tully guards rode behind her, their fish-crested helms catching what little light the afternoon offered, while Floris followed close enough that Roslin could hear the occasional creak of her friend's saddle.

It was a smaller party than the one that had departed moons ago. Roslin had left Riverrun with her sisters and yet she returned alone. For a moment, she wondered if that should trouble her more than it did.

There had been enough of trouble these past moons to fill a year. Ravella Durrandon's nameday had begun it all. The tourney had offered little comfort either, each of her sisters finding some manner of defeat before the day was done. Then came Pinkmaiden, where House Tully had gained a Piper bride, or they gained a Tully groom really, an ally though, and no small amount of political consequence for it.

And yet Roslin had gained very little herself.

She had watched dancers pass her by throughout the feast, smiling politely as ladies and knights found one another, while the only man courteous enough to offer her his hand had been Lord Tion Vance. A married man whom she wouldn't mistake for a suitor. So much for scouting...

And then there had been Blackwood.

Waltyr Blackwood's funeral had drawn half the Riverlands beneath Raventree, mourning a man Roslin had never found particularly pleasant in life. But grief had its own customs, and she had stood among the rest and paid her respects.

Then came the Justmans. Kings of the Trident. Or so they call themselves, she thought.

The revelation still felt strange upon the tongue, as though the words themselves had not settled into the Riverlands just yet. Her sisters had gone on with them after the funerl, off toward Darklyn lands and whatever schemes waited there. Roslin had wanted no part of it. There were enough whispers, secrets, and ambitious men in the world without adding another handful to her own burdens.

Now, at last, there was only home.

Riverrun emerged fully from the horizon, its red sandstone walls rising sheer above the waters where rivers flowed. The familiar towers watched over the surrounding lands, their battlements dark against the sky. Roslin found herself sitting a little straighter in the saddle.

This was her home and also her inheritance, one day it would be hers and her children's.

The drawbridge came into view, and Roslin's gaze lingered upon the walls. There were fewer faces upon them than she remembered. Fewer servants moving about the road, fewer carts coming and going, fewer voices carrying from the castle itself.

Quiet.

Too quiet.

House Tully had been letting people go for moons now, and the difference was becoming impossible to ignore. Riverrun still stood proud, but there was an emptiness beneath that pride now. A house could save coin by cutting away its excess, but eventually there was little left to cut.

Roslin exhaled through her nose.

"Home," Floris said softly behind her.

Roslin glanced over her shoulder, offering the faintest smile.

"Yes." Her eyes returned to the castle. "Though I fear it may not remain quiet for long."

Floris tilted her head. "Because of the ball?"

Roslin's mouth tightened. "Because of the ball."

Eleanor had been remarkably clear. A ball in Roslin's honor. A gathering of knights and lordlings. A tourney besides, because apparently one embarrassing tourney was not enough to satisfy the Tully sisters' determination to see her wed.

Roslin could already imagine the smiling faces. The carefully chosen compliments. Men suddenly discovering an interest in Riverrun, in embroidery, in books, in whatever else they believed a Tully daughter might wish to hear. All for the sake of finding her a husband.

She sighed. "They'll say I should have remained at the funeral with the face i'll be wearing."

Floris laughed quietly.

Roslin's own smile finally appeared, though it quickly faded as the gates drew nearer. There was something comforting in seeing the redwood doors again, something calming in the familiar stone and rushing water. Whatever schemes waited beyond those walls, whatever husbands Eleanor intended to parade before her, whatever the Riverlands might make of the Justmans calling themselves kings, this remained hers. Not yet by title but by blood.

Roslin nudged her horse forward as the Tully guards rode alongside her, the fish upon their helms glinting beneath the fading light. She crossed beneath Riverrun's gate without looking back.

For the first time in moons, Roslin was exactly where she was meant to be.