Tybalt Stonehammer's Story

The hued leaves of fall had long ago faded and fell from their home among the trees, leaving them bare to face the impending winter. Vibrant green grass had been replaced with dull drowns as the soft mud became hardened with the colder air. The first snow had yet to fall, but any day now the rain would become chilled and white clouds would cover the land. For as long back as she could remember, Lillian could not recall a winter as heart wincingly chill in Kingslanding as the quickly approaching one to come.
Her chamber was warmed from the fire place located in the corner of the room, diagonal from the large window overlooking the village below. A large fur blanket lay draped over a chair that Sacha had claimed for her own, unaffected by the world around her. Lillian’s father had just left to meet with the King’s Counsel, as he rapidly seemed to be doing more often as the King disappeared for his hunting trips. Their relationship had become strained, not Graham and the King’s, but Lillian and her father.

“As long as you don’t lose your devotion you might earn your place. Of course there will be other changes taking place when Alexavier seats at the crown. None of which I’m afraid involve your father. Unless…unless you do your duty as wife to the king and leave all other affairs to the adults. I will accept nothing less.”

These Word hung in the back of Lillian’s mind and controlled every action. The queen was the closes thing to a mother Lillian had…if she didn’t accept her marriage to Alexavier, well, Lillian didn’t want to ponder that thought any longer. I am loyal to my beloved Alexavier Lillian thought as she placed the Godwin crest around her neck. He loves me, and would never allow harm to come to me or any member of my family. With her head held high, she started for the door. Sacha, hearing her master’s footstep jumped up with a small yip and scurried to follow her[ “Coming along, Sacha?”
Lillian often found herself walking in the village more lately. Pulling her cloak tighter around her small frame, she willed away the chilling air. The sound of a hammer hitting metal floated from a small hut, and Sacha danced around Lillian’s feet in excitement. Watching the small fox trot ahead, Lillian held back a laugh as a curse filled the hut “Damn it, Sacha! I almost lost my hand.”

Following her small fox’s lead, Lillian entered the hut belonging to a blacksmith and his son “Hello Tybolt.” Tybolt Stonehammer was the son of Boraguard Stonehammer, the Kings Blacksmith and close friend of Lillian’s father. The two had always known one another, and in some cases you could say they were close. “You should watch your mouth around a lady, Tybolt Stonehammer.”

Tybolt was indeed handsome..if you could get passed his harsh manner. Dark eyes stood out against his sun kissed skin. His hair fell to his neck is soft waves, and almost appeared black in color. A small scare grazed his face, just above his eye across to his ear. He received it as an infant when playing in the creek. His body was strong, chiseled, and covered in soot from head to toe. Lillian would find him attractive...if they didn't fight like siblings.

“Well m'lady, I shall do so when I am approached by one, and not the young lords obeying bitch.” Narrowing her eyes, Lillian fought the urge to throw something at the smug boy. Had she been Iva, the little rat she called sister, she would have, but Lillian was a lady. She knew Tybolt did not agree with the Godwin’s, but he shouldn’t take it out on her.

“Tybolt, you speak to Lady Lillian in respect when she addresses you.” Boraguard Stonehammer’s firm voice said as he too entered the shack. Everything about the man screamed years of hard work and passion for what he did. His once black hair was now peppered, and his green eyes were dull with lack of proper rest. In his days, Boraguard had been handsome in deed, and even as his face wrinkled from age his looks remained. He towered over other men, with his chiseled, soot covered body.

“That is alright, Boraguard. I will be leaving now. Come Sacha!” With a small smile to the elderly blacksmith, and a harsh glare to his son, she left to the forest where she sure her sister would be hiding from her morning lessons.

Early dawn rose as birds chirped with the suns arrival, but the passing hours went unnoticed by Lillian who paced the floors of her chambers unconsciously wringing a silk handkerchief between her pale hands. Thoughts raced through her mind as her attempted to sort her options. On her bed folded lay a charcoal colored cloak trimmed in red that had once belonged to her mother. Until now it had been buried in the deepest depth of a trunk along with the contents it held.…

Boraguard Stonehammer, the blacksmith, had been killed….his head severed from his body, and was unable to be located. His son, Tybalt, pointed the blame to Bortaveous, but nothing tied the young lord’s guard to the blacksmiths brutal murder. Instead, it was Tybalts’s sword that had been used. His father’s blood still stained the blade.

The young blacksmith would have been taken to the dungeons that lay beneath the floors of the castle to greet death if not for Lillian’s father. He spoke for the lad, and demanded he be released. As the Kings hand, he handled all royal business in the Kings absents…and as the Gods would have it, Charles Godwin was hunting.

Alexavier had been enraged that Tybalt had been allowed free. Her love was certain the boy was a murderer, and demanded Lillian keep distance. He would see to Tybalt’s execution.

Reaching for the cloak, Lillian made her choice. Her nursemaid would be in soon to wake her, so she would have to move quickly. Unknown to her, the choice she made would save an innocent man, but end the life of others…many she cared for.

She, however, was not the only one who had made a life altering choice. Her father, Graham, had only moments ago sent a pigeon with gruesome news… the O’Connel children would be returning to Casterly Rock. He feared they may be those among them who wished harmed to him, and he knew the secrets he held may lead to his children becoming pawns in this game he was quickly losing.

Knocking doesn't come naturally for Iva, most of the time she would just burst in a room unannounced and pissing her sister but at the very moment she knew something was wrong. She had heard it first hand from Septa Gertrude, the blacksmith has been killed. Gossip spreads like wild fire, it would not stop and would grow worse from time to time.

She fidgeted at the end of her sleeves, thinking whether she should see her sister or not. She knew she'd be one of the people who would be most affected by what had happened. She made up her mind and knocked softly at her sister's door, and didn't wait for her sister to let her in but she was nowhere to be found. She tried to look under the thick covers and behind the curtains but no Lillian.

She rushed towards her room and took her cloak from the hanger and when she was about to exit her room, she paused and ran back to her bed. Underneath she grabbed a small dagger wrapped in oxen leather with a long leather strap, she hid it under her first clothes' layer and made sure no one would see it.

Hard times like this warn her of what lays ahead. No one is safe under these walls. And even at a tender age she understands what the voices in the castle talk about. It doesn't matter if the Septa would not listen to her but she knows her Father would heed her thoughts but she would need Lillian's help to tell her Father about it.

She poked her head a little and peered around, waiting if her father's guards are on patrol and once she realized that she was almost invisible, she ran as fast as she could and kept her senses open. She searched for her sister and one place she most probably would find her is at the Blacksmith's.