kiss for fav nephew xox
@bowfailed
FIRST THREEIN MY INBOX GET KISSES.
He wasn’t a boy for very long. Second born son of aLord, one might think he grew up more privileged than his brother, especiallywith how wild he’d grown up to be. No wife, no children, no true title to callhis own. And yet it couldn’t be further from the truth, for their father hadgroomed both his sons, if just in different ways. Sometimes he wondered if itwasn’t partially their Lord father’s fault for how he and his brother turned out,for Hoster had too much of his overbearing nature, but Brynden had inheritednothing if not his brash, reckless one, both on and off the field of battle.
He lamented the fact that Hoster fell so easily intothe trapping of Lord rather than father, forsaking the comfort of his childrenfor those bloody words: Family, Duty,Honor. Brynden would have them stricken from his own grave before he’d havethem written there, not half so Tully as the rest, despite the name and sigilhe wore.
Now, the Blackfish sighed, toting the heir to Riverrunagainst his shoulder with a scowl. Catelyn was growing into her own,practically already engaged to Brandon Stark, Lysa still pined for Petyr, whosesmiles had long since become lost, and neither truly had time for their brotheranymore. He was too old for this sort of thing, both he and Edmure, but thatdidn’t stop the silly lad from sobbing like a child when Hoster had removed hisdog from him. Silly thing, with long, curled hair, and two big, sweet eyes.Poor beast had caught something, made his mouth foam and body itch till hescratched off his fur. His teeth became known as well, when before he was onlya sweet thing with licks to give to the hand that patted him.
Hoster had told the boy to put him down, be done withit, for it was his own fault for not watching him. Then again, how could he?Sick with cold as he had been, the servants were truly to blame for not havingput him in his pen, even though Brynden wasn’t so prone to blaming the help. Stillweak from sickness and shaky with the deed that must be done, the heir hadbarely been able to lift his sword, breaking into tears when the creature had amoment of recognition and tried to lick him. The Blackfish had separated thembefore it could lose its mind once more, ushering Edmure away, and passed thesentence himself.
He’d sobbed himself to sleep against his uncle’sshoulder before they’d even crossed the main gate, toting him back to his roomto finish his recovery, silently cursing Hoster for being so callous. Bryndenlaid the gangly boy amongst the sheets, carefully tucking him in with all thegentleness his own father didn’t have, and pressed his worn lips to his dampbrow. “Sleep well, Edmure…” He rasped, rising to leave, and perhaps give hisbrother’s jaw the breaking it deserved…
