Edmure had excused himself from the conversation he had been entangled in for what felt like the last hour. There were only two topics that seemed to be of relevance since his arrival in Winterfell: how the north was cold and that no one born south of the wall was meant for it. And the events leading to Ned Stark being named hand of the king. Edmure did not mind being at Winterfell- but the conditions were not set for a good visit. He considered sitting the trip out entirely, but those same conditions forced his hand for the trip. So now he stood, half in the hall, half outside of it, not sure what’s next for him. He stepped into the chill evening into the path of someone else, and then quickly stepped back. “My apologies-”
It had all been very inconvenient. In the days which preceded Lord Eddard Stark’s demands, Desmera had been in the midst of planning a wedding. Her father had bought her the finest fabrics to design her gown, jewels had been sent for, the menu had been decided, and all of a sudden she was on the road North and no closer to being a Ruling Lady. But as she was met with the sight of her betrothed, a smile took the place of her frown. Her expression was one of indulgence, she listened as he spilled news of his long travels and nodded when he addressed the fact that they were now in one another’s company. “I’m afraid that my own travels were far less interesting than your own. But I am pleased that you have arrived safely,” she responded in a polite tone. “It will be nice to be reacquainted with one another, wouldn’t you agree?” There was a wicked glint in her eye, and her words were always suggestive. “Your letters have sustained me in the time that we have been apart.”
Not a single story? She had to have one, but it would probably be unbecoming of him to badger. He wanted to know more about the kinds of things she thought were interesting. “I’m glad to hear it.” His letters had been a group effort the first few times. He would often send his news to his sisters, but those contained basic things. That was all very different from writing his betrothed. She who Edmure was very taken with, but still had much to learn about. “Yours are nicely descriptive- I’d like to journey to the Arbor with you someday. It sounds nice. And my travels-,” in contrast to her journey to Winterfell, which Edmure was sure was more eventful than she was letting on, “-are nearly always eventful. You’ll see.”
( @rcdwynes ) Edmure’s group, comprised of himself and the select bannermen he never seemed to travel without, had arrived later than expected. They had arrived late last evening, and slept through most of the day, but he awoke and knew he should go find her, after first reuniting with his sister and simultaneously offering condolences to ned and congratulating him. After asking a few select people (he did not know her well enough yet to guess her whereabouts), he finally found her, and approached. Edmure very quickly scrunched his face into one of a mock sorrow. “my lady, we’ve had the worst luck along the way.” slightly fake exasperation as well, but he kept it less dramatic than he would if he were playing at a friend. “We took to Harrenhal to avoid the Freys at the twins, got turned around at High Heart, had to leave Mallister behind entirely somewhere near Moat Cailin.” perhaps he should have just said hello from afar. This was a lady, his betrothed, to be respected. Her time would soon be wasted enough by his god awful, partially true, dramatics. “-fortune had found it’s way to me now, though.”
Margaery sees that it’s beautiful day out so she decide to talk a walk in the garden being around her flowers did help her be happy and clear her mind. stopping to small some of the flowers. looking to see someone was there. “Oh hello what a beautiful day we are having don’t you agree?” she asked the person.
“Lady Margaery, as always, it’s my honor to meet you here.” Edmure was generally very agreeable on matters that didn’t really..matter. but here- “I’m not meant for the north’s weather, I’m afraid. I do not know how my sister has managed it for the last decades. But she has with only minor complaints, I’m sure. You, however, seem to be taking it in stride.”
* MAX IRONS / CISMALE / HE/HIM. is that EDMURE TULLY from RIVERRUN? the LORD hasn’t aged a day. i can’t believe they're THRITY-ONE years old and already so THOUGHTFUL and HOT-HEADED. it seems they’ve sworn their allegiance to house TULLY, may gods have mercy on their soul. [ EM / 22, EST, SHE/HER ]
i. he’s raised motherless, with his two sisters and the ward. An uncle and a father, and although he’s the heir to his house, neither will ever be pleased with his actions. he’s young, too young to understand the relationship between cat, lysa, and the one he dubbed little finger (it stuck). cat mothers him when he breaks his arm, lysa’s the one that taught him to swim, little finger always ready to tell him what cat hid from him. as the years go, the four will each remember this time very differently. you’re too little, lysa says, you will never understand.
ii. cat is promised to brandon stark, and edmure squires with him. the stark is everything, great at everything. he’s a great swordsman, one of the best edmure’s ever seen. he does as he likes, but is still respected enough. he loves his siblings, like edmure loved his own. he’s not much of a teacher, but edmure would not have been the best student. he watches, brandon sharpens his sword, wins a tourney, is loved by his friends, is with any woman he pleases. edmure sees it all and soaks it in. when cat marries him, they’ll be brothers. he’s wolf blooded, they say. not like you.
iii. little finger fights brandon for cat’s hand. a nonexistent moment for most. but for edmure, he’s about to see his hero kill one of his oldest friends. the mercy of the god’s perhaps, little finger lives to see another day. edmure goes to check in on him while brandon prepares for his leave. you’ve learned from your time with him, little finger says as he sends edmure away. a pity.
iv. this time is a blur. brandon is killed. cat has married eddard stark. lysa marries jon arryn. edmure is too young to go into battle, he stays at riverrun with his sisters, yet still begging hoster to send him somewhere, anywhere. edmure cares for his sister, who will eventually have her first born son. he cares for lysa too, who no longer swims or pulls faces at him. edmure spends his time between his family and the common folk. the war’s just as hard on them like it is on his family. they’re your duty, cat says on her last night in riverrun, she has little robb in her arms. you take care of them now.
v. his sisters have long left riverrun to be with their new families, little finger is long gone from riverrun, as is edmure’s uncle. cat will write, lysa too once and a while. eventually those stop coming. that’s okay. he makes friends with the boys that will one day be his bannermen. goodbrook, mallister, piper, the vance brothers. time has passed. Unlike his boyhood days, the realm is at peace. his short time with brandon stark had more influence than any of the other men in his life. edmure jousts and sharpens his sword, holding himself like brandon did. he’s with women, often. he jumps to conclusions, is quick to act. you’ll leave a string of bastards behind you. his father says. foolhardy child.
vi. he will not be the military strategist, like the blackfish. he will never be brandon stark, the hero. he doesn’t have an eye for long term political plotting, like his father. he’ll never have the wit of little finger. he’s too easy to trust, at times too warm, unlike lysa. edmure will never be as dutiful, as honorable as cat. he cannot measure up to any of that, it hangs over him when he grows sullen. but edmrue tully is kind to his people. it’s known throughout the riverlands. he loves his land and would do anything for it, or its people, a thousand times over.
** i hate to break the v. serious mood that is found in this intro but I’m..tired. here’s a meme.
Hey everyone! I’m Em and I’ll be joining you all with Edmure Tully! I am at work at the moment but should be around on mobile when it’s slow- so feel free to message me here or! ask me for my discord. But I’m ready to plot with you all and I will have some sort of official intro post up later! (check under read more for some grade A characterization)
The Tullys drew their strength from the river, and it was to the river they returned when their lives had run their course. ― Catelyn IV, A Storm of Swords.
House Tully of Riverrun is an exiled Great House of Westeros. Its most senior member carries the title of Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident. The current head is Lord Edmure Tully, son of the late Hoster Tully. The Tully sigil is a silver trout on a red and blue background. Their motto is Family, Duty, Honor.
