In the fertile and prosperous plains of the Riverlands, there isn't a single proper town! This is one of the saddest places in the heart of the continent; whenever there's a war, armies from any side pass through the Riverlands, and the region suffers greatly from the chaos of constant conflict.
Riverrun lies at the confluence of two rivers, a military fortress surrounded on three sides by water. The tournament grounds could only be set up temporarily in the western plains outside the city, built quickly with wood. The area was crowded with thousands of tents of various sizes and colors, forming a makeshift town. Soldiers, attendants, and various merchants who followed the nobles stayed in these tents.
The nobles were all invited by Edmure Tully to stay within Riverrun. At the midday banquet, Tywin introduced Robb to a young girl named Jeyne Westerling. Robb thought of the missing Arianne Martell, and after exchanging polite pleasantries with her, he ignored her.
After the banquet, Robb and Meera Reed had some free time to explore the makeshift town.
Robb wanted to buy some oil and flowers. The oil was for maintaining his armor and longsword, and he wanted flowers because he had recently been learning the alchemy left to him by Wright and hoped to find some plants with alchemical properties. The essence of such plants was usually found in their flowers and fruits. Meera Reed also wanted to buy some arrows.
Walking along the wide road between the tents, Robb wore his black northern mail, with two long swords strapped to his back and a black wolf-head necklace on his chest. His long hair fell to his shoulders, and his tall frame exuded a noble aura.
Meera Reed, dressed in leather armor and carrying a bow, had a red dragonfly perched on her shoulder. She had recently discovered that if she showed kindness, small creatures would always climb onto her hand. Robb explained that this was a sign of her warging talent awakening, though her ability was relatively weak.
Little Arya Stark walked behind them, carrying the pups. The young direwolves grew quickly in their puppy stage, and Arya had trouble carrying all five. She managed to hold only Robb's Grey Wind and her own Nymeria in her arms, leaving the other three pups to be cared for by her uncle.
When Wright went to the North, his wife, Nymeria, stayed behind in Winterfell due to illness. Every day, she would tell Arya stories, and Arya's favorite was always the one about the warrior queen of Dorne. After Wright and the others left, Arya would poke at things with a stick, and her father, Eddard, would say she had become obsessed.
Meera asked Robb, "Robb, is alchemy really that amazing? Can the potions cure illnesses and even boost strength?"
Meera Reed, a few years older than Robb, had been moved when she first saw him at Greywater Watch. But she knew she wasn't as beautiful as the other women, and their relationship had always been that of comrades in arms. Robb was destined to be someone she could never have.
"Your brother is also a mage. He and I attended the same magic school. You still don't believe in magic?"
Meera Reed replied, "It's not that. I've seen magic before! It's just that alchemy is so amazing—mixing a few herbs together can produce such miraculous effects."
"It's not the herbs that are amazing, it's the magic. Without magic, these plants would only be food for sheep." Robb stopped by a farmer girl's stall selling wildflowers, squatted down, and plucked a petal from a flower, putting it in his mouth. He concentrated magic in his mouth and carefully chewed it.
Every tournament was a social event for the nobles. The more young noblewomen there were, the more flowers were consumed. The champion could give a flower crown to the lady of his choice, but only a few could gain such an opportunity.
Other knights found a solution—since the flower crown was reserved for the champion, giving a bouquet seemed like a safe bet. Who knew if they would lose in the next round? If they didn't offer flowers now, they might never get another chance. So after each small victory, the eager knights would present a bouquet to the girls they admired. Over the years, this had become a tradition. Before each tournament, many farmer girls would gather flowers to help supplement their family income.
"How much for these?" Robb asked.
"One copper star per bouquet," the farmer girl replied. As she finished, she looked at Robb, and instinctively lowered her head, pulling her muddy shoes under her long skirt.
Robb noticed her little gesture, threw her a silver stag, and picked up a large bouquet of flowers before walking away with Meera. Robb didn't think of it as charity. Finding plants with alchemical properties wasn't easy, and today he had found one. For that bit of luck, paying a silver stag was well worth it.
Robb walked along, carefully plucking flowers and stuffing the petals into a small cloth bag, tossing the stems aside. The three of them arrived at a small square and found a blacksmith's tent. Meera was selecting arrowheads nearby, while Arya placed the two pups on the ground and took out some dried meat from her pocket to tease them.
Robb took off his two longswords and handed them to the blacksmith for sharpening and maintenance. He stood in front of the blacksmith's shop, watching the noisy crowd.
The petals Robb needed for alchemy were already enough. He fiddled with the remaining bouquet in his hands and silently activated his tracking magic. In his eyes, the crowd and things around him turned a dull yellow-gray. He glanced around, but there were no red shadows in his sight. "It seems that the clothing Ramsay left behind has deteriorated from too much time, and it's no longer traceable."
He stopped the tracking magic, touching the wolf-head necklace on his chest with one hand, and with the other, brought the flowers to his mouth, biting into each bloom slowly.
He began observing the knights around, mentally assessing how many he could defeat if they all attacked him at once. He occasionally smirked or furrowed his brows. Robb had a flower in his mouth when he turned his head again. At a stall selling wooden trinkets, a few noble girls looked at him with pitying eyes, as if they had seen an injured kitten.
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Little Finger, known as Baelish, had been adopted by the old Lord of the Riverlands when he was a child and had grown up in Riverrun, making him very familiar with the place. He walked alone to the city's chapel to find Laisha.
The chapel in Riverrun was located in the castle's garden, a seven-sided sandstone building constructed by the late Lord Hoster. Inside, there were marble images of the Seven Gods. The chapel was open to anyone, whether noble or poor, allowing people to come and pray before the gods, except for weddings and funerals, which were held there exclusively.
There were places inside the chapel where priests and nuns lived, while the Silent Sisters, who dealt with strangers and death, lived in the innermost rooms of the chapel. They only came out if there was a death that needed handling; otherwise, they remained in seclusion.
Baelish, filthy and small, followed the crowd into the chapel's main hall, slipping into a corner unnoticed. He crawled along the wall to enter the back rooms. Inside, there were seven or eight women with veiled faces. Baelish quietly hid in the corner, watching one woman with red hair. He then snuck out of the chapel.
It was too crowded during the day, and he knew he would have to wait until night to take someone away. Baelish rubbed his flat stomach, feeling the pang of hunger, and decided to find something to eat first.
Passing by the castle's main building, a few serving girls were emptying wooden trays of leftover food from the nobles' lunch. A large group of poor children gathered around, scrambling to grab the scraps. Baelish licked his lips, swallowing saliva, and stood still, watching for a while. Finally, he turned and walked toward the tent area outside the city.
The tent district was bustling with people, and as Baelish observed the young noblemen chatting excitedly in small groups, he noticed for the first time how attractive their coin pouches were hanging from their belts. He didn't have that kind of skill and had to find another way.
Finally, he arrived at a small square where several scholar stalls were set up. A large crowd of poor people gathered here, waiting in line.
People could pay for the scholars to write letters for them. These stalls, operated by assistant scholars still learning the art of letter-writing, were not very efficient. They collected the letters and sent them out every three days via raven, and sometimes only once a week if the weather was bad.
"Hello, Maester. I can write. If you're too busy, I can help you with letters. My price is very low."
An Maester Assistant looked up at Baelish, sizing him up, then said, "You can write the next letter. If it's good enough, I'll hire you, but without pay, just two full meals."
Baelish hesitated but eventually agreed. The assistant scholar gave up his seat. Baelish picked up a poor-quality quill and started writing the letter as he listened to the poor people's stories.
Just as Baelish felt like he might faint from hunger, one of the Maester Assistant finally came to take over. Baelish rubbed his sore wrist and took the two black breads with pickles that the scholar handed him. A smile finally spread across his face as he sat on a nearby wooden frame, devouring the bread, feeling for the first time how delicious such poor food could be.
"Ha ha ha! A family of cowards that only lives off women!"
"Those women could feed his father and even this bastard! Ha ha."
"What's wrong? You want to fight, coward?"
A commotion broke out nearby. People quickly scattered as a young nobleman prepared to fight.
The crowd started chanting, and Baelish climbed onto a table to see the conflict. On one side was a young nobleman with three knight attendants, and on the other side, there were five young nobles, with more than a dozen knights following them.
Baelish recognized the crests on their cloaks. The larger group had a black raven on a red field, and the smaller group had a golden shield with a red warhorse. "It's the Blackwood and the Bracken. This is going to be interesting."
The five men from the Blackwood family had come out for a walk after lunch in Riverrun and, by coincidence, ran into Hendry Bracken, the heir of the Bracken family.
The five men mocked Hendry Bracken by bringing up how they had sent their five daughters to serve as handmaidens at the Red Keep. Despite being outnumbered, Hendry could not allow his family's honor to be tarnished and immediately began to argue with them.
But how could one mouth compete with five? Frustrated, Hendry Bracken drew his longsword, ready to challenge them to a duel.
"Disarm his men!" ordered the eldest of the five brothers, Brynden Blackwood, signaling for the knights behind him to act.
A dozen knights rushed forward, and Bracken's three knights were quickly overpowered. Their swords were tossed aside, and they were knocked to the ground, faces covered in mud.
Brynden Blackwood was clever, not accepting the challenge to a duel. With five against one, why bother? The five began to surround Hendry.
"You weaklings, have you forgotten the wedding of Lord Renly? I single-handedly knocked you all around, sending you home with missing teeth!" Hendry Bracken held his sword defensively, attempting to distract them with words.
"I seem to remember it was you who was carried home after being beaten, haha," Brynden Blackwood said as he circled behind him, kicking Hendry's knee.
Hendry Bracken staggered from the surprise attack, falling to his knees but managed to steady himself with his sword. However, he lost his balance, and the third Blackwood brother took the opportunity to kick him in the chest, flipping him onto the ground.
The two house had harbored hatred for over a thousand years, and though there had been no bloody conflicts in recent generations, both sides still found ways to insult one another.
"Your five sisters would be better off marrying us. Five against five is perfect, we'd become your brothers-in-law! Call us that, let's hear it!"
"Don't insult them!" Hendry Bracken shouted as his longsword was knocked from his hand, and he tried to charge at them again, only to be kicked back.
The five men toyed with him, slamming him into the mud. Each time he was knocked down, Hendry Bracken quickly rose, but he was alone, and his strength was gradually failing. After a brutal kick, he was sent tumbling into a tent.
"Hahaha, look at the sorry state of the Bracken family! You owe everything to women, opening your legs for them—next it'll be your turn!"
"Hahaha."
The merchants' tents were not built with much care, so things were piled up inside them, and even the tops of the tents were used to store goods. The tent Hendry Bracken crashed into was tied to the one next to it, and when he fell, several tents collapsed in succession.
The crowd, eager to watch the drama unfold, quickly dispersed and rushed off in all directions.
The woodcarver's stall was also affected, with sharp wood chips falling from the top of the tent, and it looked as though one was about to hit a noble girl in a pink dress. Robb, who still had a flower in his mouth, rushed over without thinking, just in time to save her.
Robb grabbed the girl by the waist and spun her out of the way. As he did, a sharp piece of wood narrowly missed his head and instead landed atop it, resembling a crown.
"Your spit is about to drip!" The girl looked at Robb, who was now spitting out the flower stem that was dripping saliva.
Not caring about the teasing from the other girls, Robb quickly spat it out and, blushing, sucked the saliva back into his mouth, putting on what he thought was his most polite and charming smile.
"Are you going to let me go?" the pink-dressed girl asked.
Robb quickly released her.
Robb swore! It was true that Arianne Martell had approached him first, and things had just gotten muddled from there—he had been passive! But now, this was the first time he truly felt moved.
"Get up, you coward!" The shouting continued from the other side.
Just in time! Robb had seen the whole conflict. The larger group had been holding back, as it was normal for aristocrats to have skirmishes, as long as no one died. It was just for the entertainment. But now, as he wanted to escape the awkwardness, these people dared to continue.
"Stop!" Robb shouted.
The five Bulwerwoods and their knights all turned to him. "Are you trying to defend this coward?"
"Don't go!" the girls tried to hold him back.
"Let him go! He's been upset after losing track of a fugitive, and he could use the venting." Mera Reed, munching on a small fruit, stepped in front of the girls.
"Beat them good!" Arya and the two wolves began to cheer.