A Game of Thrones - Winter Chills | AGameOfThrones-WinterChills / Letters By Raven browse

One fine day in the North, a message came by raven from Clearwater to Holdfast.

"Master Sewell,

My name is Merivel Belmore, and I wanted to introduce myself. Being new to Clearwater, I will be, as part of my Maester training, working with the ravens here. I look forward to working with you, sir, to foster better communications between the two fellow banner houses.

Yours, Merivel Belmore."

Not sure how long it will take a raven to fly from Holdfast back to Clearwater, but Merivel receives a return note in what he would consider a timely manner.

"Greetings from Holdfast,

Master Sewell sends his regards to you and House Drauapaud, and it is his fervant wish that all is well at Clearwater.

I am writing this letter on Maester Sewell's behalf. My name is Rhys and I am an acolyte of the Citadel, continuing my maester's training under my great-uncle's auspicious tutelage. He has delegated the keeping and training of the ravens at Holdfast to me, so I am certain we will get to know each other quite well, if only by such short missives as raven messages.

What links have you forged for yourself, if I may be so bold as to ask? I've only my silver, so in any other regard you may find me asking questions and soliticing advice, should you be ammendable to such an arrangement.

Fare thee well, Rhys"

On the next regular run of messages to Holdfast, a note, this time addressed to Rhys, arrives.

"Greetings to my fellow Maester in training,

I, too, have successfully gained the silver link in my training at the Citadel and am doing further studies here. In point of fact, I had some little training in healing before I decided to begin this path, and so found that one particularly easy to obtain. I have no illusions, though, that subsequent ones will be much harder.

Like you, perhaps, I am working with the ravens here, in the hopes of adding the iron link to the chain. After that, who knows what paths knowledge will bring me? There is much to learn in this world, and I look forward to dipping my cup in its waters."

"All is well in Clearwater and I hope the same for Holdfast, save, of course, for the unnatural coolness of the North, at least to my skin."

"Merivel."

Rhys's reply:

To Maester Merivel, Greetings.

I trust all is well with you and those in your charge at Clearwater. You mentioned a sensitivity to the north weather in your last correspondence. Are you perchance originally from the south? My mother was Dornish, and I spent my childhood in warmer climes. Alas, the snow here, although starkly beautiful, also chills me to the bone.

May you stay warm, Rhys

In the next turnaround of letters, comes another.

"Greetings to Maester Rhys,

Clearwater remains well, since you last so politely inquired, even as the cycle of seasons continues.

I am pleased to learn that I am not the only non native up here in the North. While the Vale of Arryn, my home, is cooler than the truly warm lands around, say, King's Landing, it is definitely and definitively warmer than here. I can barely imagine what the North is truly like when it is truly winter. I envy your childhood in Dorne, there is still much of the world I have yet to see, and learn about. What about you?"

Be well, Merivel."

Greetings to Maester Merivel,

You inquired in your last note concerning my background. My parents died when I was a babe, barely able to walk. I have no distinct memories of them, although I seem to have a memory of a dark-haired woman singing to me when I was very young, which I've always assumed was my mother.

I spent my childhood with my mother's family, raised as one of their own children. I had a predilection for the healing arts, so my great-uncle on my father's side, Maester Sewell, graciously offered to fund my tuition to the Citadel, that I might become a maester myself. For that I will always be in his debt.

Our Lord Hardy of Castle Holdfast suffers from a wasting disease. Maester Sewell sent for me soon after I forged my silver link, wanting the benefit of my recent training. Without hesitation I transported myself to the North, but alas, it is not in my power to heal my Lord. I know what is wrong, but I have not the knowledge to fix it. Your opinion on such a weighty matter would be most welcome, should you ever find yourself on our side of the lake.

May all peace and properity be yours.

Rhys

A couple of days later, a letter responds.

"Greetings, Maester Rhys,

Indeed, even here, I have heard of the tragedy of Lord Hardy. I believe that your journey to the North here predates mine, or else I might have been sent to Holdfast.

While I am too modest to believe that my healing skills outrank yours, I would not mind a journey to meet you, and see what might be done for the good lord Hardy.

In return, the view on this side of the Lake should not be missed, either. Despite its chill, there are many things to see, and learn about, in the North. And unless i have missed my guess, such a curiosity about knowledge is something that we share.

Yours, Merivel.

And a few days after that...

Greetings, Maester Merivel,

Holdfast's doors are open for you, whenever you are able to visit. Maester Sewell looks forward to meeting you, as do I.

Safe journey to you, Rhys

Atypically, it is over a week before the next letter arrives for Rhys

Greetings Maester Rhys,

Forgive my silence these past eight days. I seem to have caught some sort of mild cold and fever, which left me bedbound for a day or two. Fortunately, my own prescriptions for recovering my health have worked, and I am on my feet again.

My further prescription, however, involves now getting some fresh air, and I would like to take you up on your kind offer of some days ago. If its agreeable, I will leave three days after hearing your response."

"I look forward to meeting, and hope you have been more well than I this past eight days."

"Merivel."

A new post arrives very quickly.

Greetings Maester Merivel,

I trust this day finds you in continued health. My invitation to visit still stands and we welcome your arrival at Holdfast.

Until we meet face to face, Rhys

Merivel made preparations for the trip from House Draupaud over to House Holdfast over the next day. A day before he prepared to go, Merivel went up to the Rookery and sent a last message to Rhys.

"Rhys,

If all goes well, as you receive this, I shall be on the not very well worn path from Clearwater to Holdfast. I look forward to meeting you face to face, as well as Maester Sewell, and Holdfast in general.

Until then, Merivel"

It was the Hardy House banner, flying high on the ramparts, that Merivel saw first before glimpsing the castle walls through the trees. As he approached he heard sounds of children playing and smelled fragrant woodsmoke.

Then the trees abruptly ended and the castle loomed high in front of him. Holdfast was set back from the Kingsroad, the land around it cleared save for a dense woods that came nearly right up to the back edge of the castle. It suffered from general disrepair, the walls crumbling--that much was very apparent to Merivel, who was used to the better maintained castle at Clearwater.

The handful of children that played in the clearing outside the walls stopped abuptly as Merivel appeared. A young girl waved at him, then ran up to meet him. The other children followed her lead, but one boy ran into the castle intstead.

They stopped short of surrounding him and his mount, all smiling, and fired out questions like a barrage of arrows. "Who are you? Are you

visting milord? Will you be staying long? Where are you from? Have you come a long way? Do you know tricks, or can you sing?"

"I am no lord." Merivel said pleasantly, finally taking on the flight of questions from the children and responding, even as his eyes roamed around, curious, interested, and discerning.

"I live in the Castle by the lake, but I come from the south, from beyond a bloody gate." Merivel smiled at his impromptu rhyme, and the puzzle for the children to solve one day.

One or two of the older ones stopped and cocked their heads at him, one tow-headed boy soundlessly repeating Merivel's words to himself. The younger children continued to cavort around Merivel as he approached the castle.

Presently, a man with light hair dressed in blues and browns emerged from the main gate, the boy Merivel saw a moment ago at his side. The man smiled and waved as he approached. "Maester Merivel, I presume?" he asked.

Merivel's clothing favored the purple of Belmore. His hair was dark, almost as dark as a raven's, and somewhat curly. The cut of his clothes was not too ostentatious, however, more suited for travel than for the duties of a courtier.

"You must be my tireless correspondent." Merivel said with a smile. "Rhys." He dismounted from his horse and walked the remaining distance between them. "It is good to meet you at last."

"You've named me, sir," Rhys grinned, reaching out to shake Merivel's hand and clap him on the shoulder. "And this is Stefin, the cook's son, and also for today my messenger." The dark-haired boy beside Rhys smiled up at the newcomer, his front two teeth missing. Rhys patted his back and gestured for him to go play. After an awkward bow, Stefin ran to join the other children who, now that the transient novelty of a stranger's arrival was over, had started a game of tag.

"Welcome to Holdfast, Merivel. Please come inside," Rhys continued as he gestured to the open gate.

"I find myself welcome and accept it as such." Merivel replied, after finishing the handshake. "My journey was remarkably free of incident. I do not have my brother's facility with riding, but I do well enough. But it is easier to study things from the ground." Merivel grinned.

Merivel nodded and let Rhys precede him through the open gate, inside, to Holdfast itself. He tried not to gawk but his neck, and head swiveled as he drunk in the details.

The walls of Holdfast encircled a large area, being perhaps a full quarter mile in circumference. Within was a grazing area, and buildings for livestock - not just three stable blocks, but also a byre for cows and chicken coops. These were all built hard against the walls nearest the gates. The main castle was on the opposite side of the courtyards, and its central tower loomed imposingly over the rest, with tall proud turrets and heavy walls, and the great forest lowering behind.

"We can stop by the stables first and leave your horse, then Maester Sewell wanted to meet you." He pauses to look over his shoulder at the sun, then turns back to Merivel. "Looks like another hour or two until the evening meal. I'm sure Lord and Lady Hardy will welcome you to dine at the headtable with them. In the meantime, we can talk or you can rest, whichever you prefer."

"Stables first, talk and exploration second. Maybe enough time to allow myself to present myself to the Lord and Lady." Merivel replied in a rapid fire response, but he is smiling as he bullets each one.

"As far as rest, that's for when the day's business is done, and I am only recently arrived. If I had come all the way from the Vale, or King's Landing, rest might have far more appeal." Merivel admitted.

He gestured to Rhys to lead the way, still looking at everything, but his ears were clearly pointed in Rhys direction just as intently as his eyes were taking in everything else.

Rhys led Merivel to the stables where he handed over the reins of his horse to a capable-looking lad who's name was Gill. Helping Merivel heft any bags or luggage the horse was carrying, Rhys then led him to the main castle on the other side of the courtyards.

"I'm taking you to meet Sewell now," Rhys explained as he shifted the bag he was carrying to the other shoulder. "So, Merivel, how long out of the Citadel are you?"

As he spoke, Rhys was leading them across the courtyard to where one proud, circular tower stood, topped with smaller towers thst jutted out after the fashion of the North.

"Only a couple of seasons." Merivel admitted, looking with slight nervousness as the imposing circular tower drew nearer and larger. "I hadn't expected to be sent this far North, but it makes sense because of the ties, however convoluted and daisy-chained, between Drapanaud and Belmore."

Rhys cocked an eyebrow at him, obviously curious to the details, but refrained from asking. Perhaps he felt it would be too inquisitive to a newly-arrived guest.

"What about you, Rhys? How long have you been out of the Citadel? How long have you been in the Isles?" Merivel asked in rapid fashion.

"I've been away from the Citadel a few years...and not coincidentally here the same number," he smiled. "Did you ever have Maester Turley? Taught herbology but always fell asleep after lunch? Well, fell asleep after drinking his lunch..." Rhys laughed. "I remember while I was there some brave student shaved off his beard one afternoon after a particularly large lunch."

"He must have stopped wearing a beard after that." Merivel said with a grin. "The Maester Turley that I remember was always clean shaven. Still slept after lunch, though, and he didn't know as much about herbology as he thought he did. I got into an argument with him over a particular plant's extract being poisonous or not."

"It took some searching through tomes and books to prove me right." Merivel added, with a touch of pride.

"Impressive," Rhys replied, nodding. "I shall have to come to you with questions. Here we are..." He opened the door to the tower, then gestured to the stairs. "Maester Sewell will be upstairs, waiting for us. I'm sure he saw you come in."

"Me first?" Merivel asked with a grin and then started climbing the stairs. "This reminds me of seeing some of the Maesters at the Citadel. The steps of doom."

Rhys laughed in reply.

Despite his words, Merivel still jauntily headed up the stairs, one by one, only occasionally turning his head backward to make sure Rhys was still following him.

Rhys was indeed still following him.

The tower was to one end of the Castle. On the lower floors were the rooms that housed the Castle Library - a venerable insitution, with books and parchments collected and preserved by Maesters over hundred of years - but it was actually small in terms of volumes: the Hardy family were not great readers.

But before they could clim higher, a voice called out from one of the small rooms that composed the library.

"Rhys?"

The voice was the rich, mellifluous one of Holdfast's Maester and Rhys' great uncle, Sewell.

"And another, sir." Merivel answered first. "Merivel Belmore, out of Clearwater."

Rhys paused in the doorway and indicated Merivel should precede him. "Maester Sewell, this is Maester Merivel Belmore from Clearwater, as he's already indicated. Merivel, this is my great-uncle, Maester

"Welcome," said Master Sewell. "And well met."

He extended a hand to Merivel, who saw for the first time the impressive links that formed the Maester's chain - not only the more usual ones of gold for the study of money and accounts, silver for healing, iron for warcraft, black iron for ravenry - but a variety of other metails too - platinum, copper, brass, bronze, lead, and steel. Prominent, and adorned with a startlingly deep blue sapphire was the metal for astronomy.

It was an impressive array to find around the neck of a Maester of a small castle so far in the North.

Merivel took the Maester's hand, his hand visibly trembling slightly as he did so. His eyes were drawn to the Maester's chain, and only after a few moments, tore his gaze away from it so that he looked Sewell in the eyes.

"Its an honor, sir." Merivel said,finally releasing the offered hand.

"The honour is all mine," said Sewell formally. "I believe that you and my nephew have been correspoonding for some time?

"How go your studies, Maester Merivel?"

Merivel brought forth his chain, with its silver link. "I earned this link, and early." he began. "Healing has been an interest of mine since before going to the citadel. I do look forward to gaining more, sir. Your nephew and I talked a bit of that in our correspondence."

"Actually, it began by accident." Merivel admitted. "I actually had a message directed for you. A happy accident, since I enjoy the correspondence with Rhys, and am happy to see Holdfast with mine own eyes at last."

"Then we must ensure that Rhys shows you everything," said the Maester. "Do you have any interest in astronomy? Or weather lore?"

"Astronomy, perhaps, milord Maester." Merivel replied with a smile and a polite nod of his head. "I had ample opportunity to study the stars on my journey from the Vale to the Citadel, and the latter to here. The differences in the night sky were surprising."

"Did you find the same, Rhys?" Merivel turned to include Rhys in the conversation.

"Oh, yes," Rhys agreed. "I first came north when I was fifteen and I remember having a conversation then with my uncle about the changing night sky." He turned to Sewell. "Why don't you show Merivel your invention? The one you showed me that afternoon?"

Merivel's eyes brightened with interest.

The Maester smiled. "This evening, perhaps. After dinner we shall go up to the roof of the tower, and Maester Merivel may see my device in action for himself. But while there are daylight hours, doubtless he will want to see the castle.

"How are you weather observatons, Maester? We here in the North play a vital role in detecting early signs of winter, you know. As far as the Citadel is concerned, it is not only the Starks who say, "Winter is Coming". We must say it too."

"Although I do not have anything close to that link." Merivel replied. "I do know that its true that, in general, the further north one goes, the colder it becomes. As we are further north than House Stark, is it not reasonable to say that Winter will come here a little sooner than down in Winterfell?"

" By a few days or weeks, in any event. But I am still learning much about the weather." Merviel added with a smile.

"As am I," Rhys commented. "We have many records here at Holdfast detailing the passing of days and the changing of seasons. My great-uncle is very adamant that the records are kept meticulously."

"Meticulousness in record keeping is something they drilled into me at the Citadel." Merivel replied with a nod to Rhys. He then looks at the older Maester. "How long do the records stretch back, sir?"

"In total? Some three hundred years." He sighed. But there are gaps. One of the reasons I was sent here was that the last two Maesters had proved inefficient in sending copies of their records to the Citadel. It was only when I reached here that I discovered their negligence went further - and they had maintained virtually no records at all."

Merivel visibly winced at this from Maester Sewell.

"The present is a scroll we create so that the future may read it." Merivel said, in quotation. "For your predecessors not to have done so is a failure to discharge their duty." He lowered his head. "And I am sure that you and your nephew." Merivel smiled to Rhys and Sewell both "are far more diligent."

"We try to be," said Sewell, "we try to be."

He looked at Merivel's chain. "I see you have your silver for healing. Rhys ... have you told Maester Merivel about our Lord's health?"

"I mentioned it, sir, but didn't give details," Rhys replied.

"He did, in our correspondence." Merivel agreed. "While I would not rank my skills against either of yours, I did say that I would give attendance, if it were desired." Merivel finished.

"He ails," said Maester Sewell. "These last few years ... and I fear tthat some hidden growth within him saps his strength. Yet there is no obvious swelling ...

"Have you seen this for yourself before?"

"I have heard of things vaguely similar to it, but perhaps far enough away as to not be the same." Merivel admitted. "Not today, perhaps, but perhaps if I were to see the Lord for myself, I could better say, Maester."

Sewell smiled. "Indeed," he agreed. "Well, perhaps Rhys should take you to refresh yourself after your journey, and then later you will be able to join us at the high table for supper."

"It would be an honor to do so." Merivel inclined his head and then looked expectantly at Rhys.

"That's my cue," Rhys said, his mouth quirking up at one corner. He also nodded in respect to his great-uncle, then led Merivel out of the room and back down the stairs. At the bottom, in a room off to the right, a table with chairs stood under a bright, narrow window and Rhys gestured to Merivel to sit down.

A cupboard stood against the oppostie wall and Rhys opened it, pulling out a couple of horn cups. "So what's your pleasure, Merivel?" he asked. "Mulled wine...something stronger...or..." He peered into the deep recesses of the cabinet. "I still have some Dornish wine left from my cousin's last visit. It's less sweet than mulled wine and has a stronger kick..." He glanced back at the other maester.

"Such pleasures are a hazard to pur profession." Merivel began. "Since other pleasures are denied us. But considering the weather and the journey, I think the mulled wine, if you please." Merivel smiled.

"Mulled it is. Although not warm, still pleasant enough to wash away the weariness of the road. Perhaps I can entice you to try the Dornish later this evening," Rhys added as he poured for Merivel and himself. He set a cup in front of Merivel and pulled up a chair for himself. "So, tell me, what are the happenings at Clearwater?"

Merivel took a sip of the mulled wine and nodded, at both Rhys' question and his offer of the stronger wine for later.

"I am not sure how much you know of Lord Drapanaud and his House." Merivel began, taking another sip. "All that Clearwater is relates to him in a very visceral way, as the illness here does the same for Holdfast." He paused to let Rhys respond before continuing.

Rhys shrugged. "It is a new House, and a bannerhouse to Stark. As for Lord Draupaud, I know very little except for rumor. I've never met the man."

Merivel nodded and took another sip. "True enough, as far as it goes. I try to avoid." Merivel paused, a guarded look on his face. "the entanglements that a young and hungry House can produce. I do not always succeed. I think it is a hazard of the position, and the knowledge that we acquire and have at our disposal only makes it more so."

"I can see how that would happen," Rhys replied as he regarded Merivel thoughtfully. "You look troubled... Have you been 'entangled' in a situation that went against your ethics?"

Merivel nodded slowly. "It would be unethical for me to reveal details, of course."

Rhys nodded agreement.

He took a sip of his wine "But I did come entangled in a situation where loyalties and ethics were crossed." he admitted.

"Has that ever happened to you?" he asked Rhys.

"Not...yet..." Rhys smiled as he regarded the wine in his cup, "but it's perhaps only a matter of time. I'm fortunate in that my great-uncle shields me somewhat." He looked up at Merivel and the smile faded. "But you...you have no such buffer..."

"It's true." Merivel admitted. "I have no family or relatives here. My reasons for being sent to the North have to do with alliances of Houses, rather than family trees. I have to forge my own links from scratch. Both within and without of Clearwater"

Merivel smiled at that thought anad took another sip of the wine. "If you didn't have your Great Uncle here, do you think you would have come North?" Merivel asked.

"No way would I have come north to stay," Rhys smiled. "I wanted to be a trader, like the men in my family. Travel, see new sights, learn new things..."

Merivel's eyes brightened. "Ah, I see." he replied, and took another sip of the excellent wine. "If not for your Great Uncle, you would have not taken our common road at all."

He paused then asked. "So why did Maester Sewell choose you, of the men of your family?"

"My parents died when I was barely walking. I was fostered to my mother's sister and her family who are Dornish traders. Sewell is my great-uncle on my father's side. When I was around thirteen or fourteen, he sent a letter expressing an interest to meet me. I visited Holdfast for the first time when I was fifteen."

Rhys paused and sat back, lost for a moment in memories. "That was a hard year here. They had an outbreak of summer fever."

"Before I came here." Merivel nodded, a tone of sympathy in his voice. "Summer fever is a dreadful affliction."

Merivel paused and then continued. "The Citadel chose Clearwater for me. As for why I decided on this path, I do not suppose that you've even heard of Belmore, or only a name in a list of chronicles?"

Rhys shook his head, his expression inviting Merivel to continue with his story.

"Belmore is a minor House in the Vale of Arryn. My father is the Lord of Belmore." Merivel began.

"As his third son, I wasn't ever going to become Lord Belmore, so my options for my life were somewhat nebulous. But an event changed all that."

He looked at Rhys. "Probably wouldn't tell you this without some of this excellent wine in me. But someone tried to poison my father. And nearly succeeded. He spent months in recovering."

Rhys's eyebrows shot up and he sat back in his chair.

"I knew then, what I needed to do for my family. I began to study healing and poisons, of course. When the time came, I leapt at the chance to go to the Citadel and learn more, much more."

He took another, longer sip of the wine, finishing the cup.

"Did you discover who was responsible?" Rhys asked, gesturing with the bottle at Merivel's empty cup--would he like more wine?

Merivel moved the cup forward so that Rhys could refill it. Only after he did so, and Merivel took another sip did he continue.

Rhys refilled his own cup after Merivel's and sat back again. He waited patiently for Merivel to continue, letting him do it in his own time.

"Someone was found guilty." Merivel admitted. "I never thought that he was guilty. Wondering and fearing if the real poisoner was out there prompted me to learn as much about them as possible, and how to cure them. That eventually extended to healing in general."

"Necessity," Rhys nodded, thoughtful. "But you're no longer at House Belmore. Why did you leave?"

"To learn more." Merivel said, eschewing the wine for a moment to speak at length. "I realized that, to truly learn what I needed to find out, that I would have to go to the citadel, and make learning my path. Not that I am a stranger or averse to it."

"And it was a good way to deal with an extra son in the estate, so father was pleased with the idea. And one day, I will have enough information to visit back home, and perhaps, then, the mystery will be solved."

"Ah," Rhys nodded, "That was what I was wondering: why you didn't return home after the Citadel. I remember you said that they chose Clearwater for you, but I was curious why you didn't go back to Belmore then."

Merivel paused a moment, looking down at his cup without taking a sip, before looking up at Rhys and speaking.

"I didn't feel prepared for one thing." Merivel began. "Second, when my time in the Citadel was over, I had gotten the bug of learning and gaining knowledge. Belmore is not a fount or center of such learning beyond what is known of the Vale of Arryn. So I continued my studies, to continue to learn."

"But I do have every intention of returning to make sure that my original purpose remains undiluted." Merivel finished.

Rhys nodded. "Perhaps, when you return, you can show them how valuable your your studies have been, and they in turn will be more interested in knowledge beyond their borders."

"Now that, good fellow." Merivel raised the cup. "I can drink to."

Merivel took a sip and then continued.

After tipping his cup at Merivel, Rhys followed his example.

"What of you, Rhys? Will you stay here and succeed your Uncle, make the North your home?"

"Holdfast should really be called Coldfast," Rhys laughed. "I miss the desert sun of Dorne baking my back."

He paused, then continued, "That's Sewell's intention, part of the reason he brought me back. I owe him a great deal."

Rhys smiled again, that easygoing smile of his, but his lack of anything more to say on the subject spoke volumes.

"So...would you like a tour before supper? We still have an hour or so."

Merivel looked thoughtful for the moment. "You be the judge. Can you do a tour of Holdfast in an hour and do it justice?" Merivel asked. "If not, then perhaps it should wait until after dinner, or the morrow."

Rhys shrugs and smiles again. "All right, perhaps tomorrow. After dinner, I'd like to show you something I think you'll find interesting at the top of the Maester's Tower."

Rhys led Merivel to the room he would share with him and Maester Sewell during his stay at Holdfast.

The room was wedged-shaped, the outer wall curved and cut with two long, narrow windows currently covered with flaps of leather. A closed wardrobe stood against the wall between the windows. The hearth sat on the inner wall, two chairs covered with pelts looking to the banked fire with something that appeared less like a side table and more like a stool between them. A third chair, not matching the others, was pushed up against the wall next to the hearth.

In the dim light Merivel could see that a bed with two pillows had its head against the wall on the other side of the door they entered, undoubtedly to take advantage of as much heat the inner wall could offer. A box bed stood nearby, undoubtedly for him, with a stool, wash basin, and towel.

Rhys left Merivel to rest and wash, then returned about an hour later to escort him to dinner.

Categories: WinterChillsGameLogs