Return to Riverrun (Open)
May 10, 2012 21:38:52 GMT
Post by prominos on May 10, 2012 21:38:52 GMT
The Red Fork flowed past Riverrun as it had done for centuries. Brynden sat atop his dark brown palfrey, Flood, at the rivers edge, taking in the sounds and smells of the Riverlands he had missed for so long. He still wasnt sure why he was here, was it for reconciliation, to say goodbye to his brother? Or to say goodbye to his home?
Since King Robert had died nothing was certain anymore, Riverrun could easily be another casualty of the brewing storm and its distance to Casterly Rock was certainly not in its favour. Brynden had thankfully managed to part ways with his brother, Lord Hoster Tully, on good terms on the last time he had seen him a decade ago. For 10 long years he had served Jon Arryn of the Vale loyally and fiercely. He had been a good man and his death was tragic. Brynden had his own issues with the exact circumstances surrounding his death and as much as he wished to stay from the politics of King's Landing and its scheming lords and ladies, every now and then it had a way of plunging him waist deep within it. He was still a Tully and would always be a Tully but Brynden had learned that things such as which House one belonged to and 'the words' were not always easy ways to live ones life.
Brynden smiled ruefully as a gentle breeze wound its way through the land, carressing Flood's mane and his riding cloak. How he wished he could spend his days lazing by the river, taking in its wonders and watching the fish swim by. Alas, he knew he could not. He must think of the words, he must think of Jon and Lena Arryn, he must think of the future of Riverrun and all the seven kingdoms. With that in mind he nudged Flood along the edge of the water and headed for the bridge that would take him back to his home, and toward what he must do.
Since King Robert had died nothing was certain anymore, Riverrun could easily be another casualty of the brewing storm and its distance to Casterly Rock was certainly not in its favour. Brynden had thankfully managed to part ways with his brother, Lord Hoster Tully, on good terms on the last time he had seen him a decade ago. For 10 long years he had served Jon Arryn of the Vale loyally and fiercely. He had been a good man and his death was tragic. Brynden had his own issues with the exact circumstances surrounding his death and as much as he wished to stay from the politics of King's Landing and its scheming lords and ladies, every now and then it had a way of plunging him waist deep within it. He was still a Tully and would always be a Tully but Brynden had learned that things such as which House one belonged to and 'the words' were not always easy ways to live ones life.
Brynden smiled ruefully as a gentle breeze wound its way through the land, carressing Flood's mane and his riding cloak. How he wished he could spend his days lazing by the river, taking in its wonders and watching the fish swim by. Alas, he knew he could not. He must think of the words, he must think of Jon and Lena Arryn, he must think of the future of Riverrun and all the seven kingdoms. With that in mind he nudged Flood along the edge of the water and headed for the bridge that would take him back to his home, and toward what he must do.