The King of Winters

Chapter-99

Andrew

"I had hoped that by now you would have known what you are getting into when you married me." His wife had put aside her leather jerkin and breeches that she always wore for a soft blue gown with sleeves of silver Myrish lace that she had used as the nightgown.

"Seems like I have made a mistake," Andrew said quietly. "I should have enquired more about my bride."

"You should have," Argella plucked a cup from the table and threw it at the bed.

He could see that she wanted to throw it at him. They had been at it for a long time. He had hoped that she would see the wisdom in that decision, but he knew his wife well enough to know there was no arguing with that stubborn jut of jaw. "Nothing good is going to come from speaking about the past," Andrew told her. "You should know it is the wisest course of action. Even your father approved of it."

That seemed to surprise her. "Father? I could talk to father and make him see that this wisest course of action is not fair." She flicked the hair away. "Not to me. What of our lessons? You know I can't miss them."

"We can always continue when this war is over," Andrew told her.

"And until then you expect me to run your household," Argella looked at him sharply, her blue eyes so pointed and flashing like an icy crystal. "I would do a wretched job at it."

That was a lie. She would do a good job at running a castle and holding it at war. But his wife could be stubborn as a river rock, even more so when it comes to things like this. But Andrew was not likely to forget the past any time soon. Blood, fire and death littered his past and dreams. He could not allow the future to follow suit as well.

"That is not what I mean for you," Andrew told her.

"I am to be sent cowering back into a castle with women and children," Argella accused.

"That is an honourable charge," Andrew said softly.

"To mind the children?" Argella said. "To find food and bedding when you return from war. What renown and honour is there in that?"

Andrew sighed. He walked over to her and grasped her by the arms and looked into her clear blue eyes. "My lady, a time may come for valour without renown," he explained. "Who will then my people look to in their last defence? Their King who lost in the south or their Queen in the North?"

Her face softened then and Argella looked at him with blue eyes full of hope. "Let me stand at your side then."

"It is not in my power to command you to do that," Andrew told her. He gave a reassuring smile and turned away from her.

"You do not command the others to stay," Argella followed behind. "They fight beside you of their own choice. They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you... because they love you."

Andrew stopped for a moment and looked at her. He had no answer for that. Argella blushed brightly then, realising what she had said. "I... I am sorry. I will go North if that's what you prefer." She stormed off from the room without waiting for a reply.

And I prefer you safe, Andrew wanted to tell her. He did not doubt her valour or skill in battle, only the path that was set before him. The Targaryens were too strong than he had first thought. And he would not have her bleed or harmed for his sake. He already had too much blood on his hands.

Somewhere the gods were laughing to put him at this impossible position again and again only to take it away from him when all seemed well. Argella had never taken kindly to be denied something that she loved, he knew that. He hoped that his softer words might have swayed her to listen rather than defy, yet he was still like to miss her. Of late Andrew had come to appreciate her company more so than he had thought it to. And she made him smile more often than not.