The three-sided triangular castle, though was not largest that Brandon had seen, left the eye mesmerised. It was made of sandstone and located n the Tumblestone River and the Red Fork of the Trident River. It's simple beauty left even Lyanna speechless. The sluice gates were lowered to the waiting party on the other side of the river, a horn was blown and Brandon led them into the castle gates.

"This is your home?" Lyanna gawked, turning to look at Catelyn and Lysa.

Catelyn nodded back smiling to Lyanna, wanting to be tender with the girl. After all, she wouldn't know what state she would be in if her own sister had disappeared after the bloodbath that had ensued at the Tourney. Lysa, however, scoffed to Lyanna and rolled her eyes.

"You are marrying a poor Lord, sister," she whispered. Though from Lyanna's glare, it was obvious she had been heard. Catelyn pinched her sister's thigh, indicating for her to be quiet.

"We have company Lysa, don't be rude," she whispered back. Lysa once more rolled her eyes.

It was true though, Catelyn had offered for Lyanna and Arianne, had she been found, to ride in their carriage. It would allow them to travel faster and cause less commotion when they were leaving. They had taken the Stark's carriage, which was dripping in rugs and pelts of all sorts, with little to no decoration. Instead of Arianne though, Lady Bolton, the quiet wife of Roose Bolton, had joined them. The girl spent all her time diverting her eyes from whoever was speaking rather than speaking herself. A tedious creature that Catelyn would make sure would join her husband in the tents outside of the castle.

Catelyn looked out of the foggy window, they had come to a halt. She was glad, she didn't know how much longer her breasts could take the rickety floor of the gates that separated Riverrun from the rest of the Riverlands. There was a sharp tap on the back of the carriage and the door swung open.

Her father, Lord Hoster Tully, stood waiting for his daughters. "Thank the gods!" He cried out, pulling Catelyn from her seat into his arms.

"Father, we're alright," Catelyn reassured as he put her down and gave Lysa a hug as well.

"When Brynden wrote to me, he made it seem as if you had been killed."

"They weren't targetted," Brandon pointed out from behind her father.

Hoster nodded in agreement. He looked to Lyanna, sending her a small smile. "Just as beautiful as your mother was."

Liar. Lyanna thought, internally shaking her head at the sweet lord. She clambered out of the carriage in front of Roose Bolton's wife and curtseyed to Hoster. "My Lord, thank you for your exceptional kindness."

"Well I couldn't leave my son-in-law to be rotting under the sun, could I? Your father would have my head," he smiled once more, grasping Lyanna's hands. "We will find your sister. As your brother said, it was a targetted attack. She's probably with another family, safe and sound." Lyanna didn't know how to respond to the Lord without bursting into tears, she merely nodded her head. Hoster seemed to understand and mentioned for the handmaidens that stood behind him to lead Lyanna and Lady Bolton to their rooms.

Once they had disappeared into the castle, Catelyn looked to her father. "Lady Bolton is to stay with her husband, outside."

"Is she not her companion?" Hoster responded, frowning at his daughter.

"No. Outside." And with that, Catelyn had strode off to retire to her own room, Lysa following closely behind her.

Brandon, though wanted to laugh, could not bring himself to enjoy even the small exchange with Catelyn and Hoster. It reminded him too much of Arianne and his own father and their endless arguments which usually ended in his father's defeat and Arianne walking away just as Catelyn had done so.

"Daughters," Hoster sighed patting Brandon's shoulder. "I hope you have the pleasure one day."

"Indeed," Brandon smiled back.

"Now, what you wrote to me is what you are sure of? If so, there is nothing we are able to do."

...

Lyanna looked down from her window at the Tumlestone river leading to the Water Gate, which was rusted at the bottom and shining silver at the top. Many boats were tied within it, secured by iron rings on the walls. And near it, Sept of Riverrun, which was a seven-sided sandstone building amongst a garden. She could not help but keep remember her sister and Robert, their faces replaying in her mind over and over again. She had thought endlessly as well, about the dinner, and how Catelyn and Lysa Tully seemed so easily accepting of watching so much death around them. The sights of dead bodies and blood refusing to leave Lyanna alone. Now she understood her fathers protests on her boyish behaviours.

What was I thinking? A knight. She thought, huffing to herself. A knight who cannot even handle the smell of blood. The sight of dead men.

She had to admit, however, though she had been worried about her sister, once Brandon had informed her of where he suspected she may have been she turned her worries to Robert. He would only be a day or two rides from Riverrun by now, leading rest of the Northern party to Riverrun, with Ned, slowly so they would arrive in time for the wedding and Lord Hoster's food reserves would not be wasted.

"I will meet your father, finally," Robert pointed out as he helped Lyanna onto the carriage.

"He will adore you. Keep the drinking and swearing to a minimal and everything should be alright," she responded letting out a small laugh.

"Now's not the best time to be laughing Lyanna. Your sister is lost," he whispered shaking his head.

Lyanna sighed. Her vow of secrecy to Brandon prevented her from telling Robert that she was probably in safe hands. So instead she nodded her head and gave Robert a kiss on the cheek. "Until next time."

"Until next time."

Her memory was cut short by a knock on the door. "It's open," Lyanna called, not wanting to leave her seat by the window.

Lysa Tully walked in, hand in hand with Petyr Balish and smiled to Lyanna. "We wanted to show you around the castle. It's not good for a Lady to be locked away in her tower for too long my Lady."

Lyanna groaned silently, turning around to face the window and then to look at Lysa and Petyr. "The view from here is beautiful, I wouldn't want to leave it."

"Nonsense," Petyr piped. His boyish voice forcing Lyanna to stifle a laugh. "We can show you the Minisa garden, Lord Hoster had it made especially for his late wife. And the weirwood tree, we know you Northerner's are a ... a traditional bunch."

Lyanna stood from her seat, seeing her attempts would be futile. "I guess getting to know my sister-in-law and the man who is in love with my brother's bride will keep me occupied long enough," she said smiling. Lysa and Petyr looked after the young Stark girl, gawking at her response.

...

"Where is he!?" The shouts of Rickard Stark in the courtyard could be heard from Hoster's study. Brandon stood from his seat by the fireplace and raced to the small window by the edge of the room and looked down at the entrance of the castle.

Rickard Stark, in all his might, was still on his horse and shouting to those below him. He jumped from his horse, handed the reigns to one of his men and bellowed to one of the footmen to lead him to Brandon.

"Oh my dear boy, you must know at this point I cannot come between a father and son, even if he is to be my blood soon," Hoster said looking to Brandon worryingly. Be it his home or not, Hoster knew that upsetting Rickard, a man far taller, stronger and hot-headed as he was, would be a mistake.

"I understand L-"

"Brandon Stark you foul boy!" It was too late, Rickard had already lunged for Brandon and there was nothing the Hoster could do but watch on.

"My Lord Stark, please refrain yourself!" Hoster cried out.

His attempts, however, were futile, Rickard had already done the damage and stood up from his position with a sigh. Brandon, on the floor under him, covered his left eye with one hand and touched his lip with the other.

"Forgive me, Lord Tully, some lessons must be taught in a haste," Rickard muttered looking to Brandon.

Hoster nodded his head and mentioned for Rickard to sit down in the seat adjacent to his own. "I'm sure we can ... fix whatever damage has been done here. Brandon thinks he knows of your daughters' whereabouts."

"Brandon thinks he knows," Rickard scoffed shaking his head. "Seat yourself boy and tell me what in gods name happened at this Tourney."

"Father," Brandon sighed standing in front of his father. "You cannot blame anyone for this other than yourself or Arianne. She said that she wrote to you, letting you know of the marriage-"

"Marriage!?" Rickard shouted, standing from his seat.

Brandon ignored his father's theatrics. "She also said that the King had written to you himself, proposing that Rhaegar wed Arianne."

"I swear to all the gods that I hear of this match only now," Rickard said. Looking to both Hoster and Brandon invalidation, to which they both nodded believing him. "Lilla had spoken of a scandal, Arianne having one too many men after her, word of the Prince and her going around Harrenhal. I only took that as mere gossip. A fresh face, someone new to bring down."

Brandon nodded, understanding, his hand was still covering his eye. "I am almost certain that they are going to Kingslanding, they must have arrived by now. It took us a month to travel here, and we delayed. I presume that they will delay as well, travel slowly, visit villages and farms on their way home. Though the King, I know will want to speed their travels. They were betrayed at Harrenahl. Lord Whent has a great wrath coming to him. The King was injured on the night. The handmaiden of Arianne told her she was to leave to a hearing. A lie many were told I'm sure, the Dornish Princess, the Queen and Arianne were not present during the night. The lady in waiting to the Princess as well was not present," Brandon rambled, wanting to tell his father every small detail of the night.

"Who was being targetted?" Rickard asked.

"The Dornish and the Targaryens. Everyone else was just caught in the crossfire." Brandon responded.

"Ned and Lyanna?"

"Lyanna's resting now, Ned is with the rest of the party, they'll be here in time for the wedding."

"You may leave us now," Rickard nodded pointing to the door behind him. Brandon stood and leave the room silently.

"I don't like how this looks Rickard," Hoster honestly whispered. Entwining both his hands in front of him and resting them on his lap.

"Aye. Prepare your men, yourself and your castle for war Hoster. We have a very uncertain King as our leader."

...