Lady Catelyn Stark sent a long, formal letter to House Mormont.
After the initial polite greetings, she focused on introducing her uncle, Ser Brynden Tully—the famous “Blackfish.” She detailed everything from his appearance and personality to his military achievements, spanning from the Fifth Blackfyre Rebellion to Robert’s Rebellion.
The letter then took a delicate turn, mentioning that Ser Brynden was still unmarried because the gentle ladies of the South simply did not appeal to him.
Catelyn recalled the history of House Tully and House Mormont fighting side by side, praising the courage of Jorah Mormont and his family.
Expressing a desire to strengthen the bond between their houses, she noted hearing about House Mormont’s grown daughter—a beautiful warrior and a rare find in the Seven Kingdoms.
She invited her to Winterfell to meet Brynden, hoping to resolve the Tully family’s worries over his bachelorhood.
The letter gently clarified that Brynden had no hidden illnesses nor a dislike for women; he simply had dedicated his life to knighthood and had never met the right partner.
Catelyn noted that if Lady Dacey Mormont were to marry Ser Blackfish, it would be a true blessing for House Tully.
House Mormont readily accepted the invitation.
Dacey braved the harsh winds and snow to travel to Winterfell, arriving alongside a Riverlands delegation.
Edmure Tully had joined the delegation without his sister’s knowledge, and his presence made the match even more likely to succeed.
Before the practice duel in the yard, Edmure and Catelyn met privately with Dacey.
Catelyn took an instant liking to the young woman, praising her for being even more impressive than the rumors suggested.
They honestly admitted that Ser Blackfish knew nothing of this arrangement and had long given up on marriage.
Both siblings encouraged Dacey, telling her that if she found Brynden suitable, she should not hold back her charm, as she might be the only person who could change his mind.
“My Lady…
Lady Catelyn, and Lord Edmure,” Dacey had replied.
Though surprised and slightly shy, she stood firm on her principles.
“Thank you both for your kindness.
Whether Ser Brynden is highborn or older does not matter to me.
What matters is that my husband must be a true, honorable man.” Winning Over House Mormont The copper-plated full plate armor Dacey wore during the duel was a gift from Edmure.
He made it clear that regardless of whether she took a liking to his uncle, she could keep the armor along with other gifts sent from Riverrun to Bear Island.
Edmure’s generosity deeply touched Dacey, and even Catelyn was surprised by his open-handedness.
“I assure you, sister, every gift to House Mormont will be worth it,” Edmure explained when Catelyn questioned their father giving him so much money to spend.
Edmure knew that Jorah Mormont, the Lord of Bear Island, was a talented commander, and Jorah’s father, Jeor, was currently the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.
The rest of the family—including Dacey, her mother Maege, and her sister Alysane—were all formidable warriors.
Even if the marriage alliance fell through, Edmure was determined to build a strong alliance with House Mormont for the future.
Over the next two days, people throughout Winterfell often saw Lady Dacey and Ser Blackfish in the training yard, either sparring or with Brynden offering her combat tips.
When Brynden taught the Riverlands delegation about military strategy and warfare, Dacey sat in to listen as well.
Edmure could tell Dacey was growing fond of his uncle.
Despite his age, Brynden’s skills, character, and presence were far superior to most knights in the Seven Kingdoms.
Age gaps were common among nobility, and Dacey clearly did not mind it.
Others noticed her admiration as well.
Some of Edmure’s friends began winking and teasing Brynden about her.
After a few times, Brynden started to feel uncomfortable.
He had no desire to marry, and he believed a proper knight should always protect a noble lady’s reputation.
When Brynden began distancing himself from Dacey under the guise of noble politeness, Edmure stepped in to talk to him.
A Conversation with the Blackfish “Do you dislike Lady Dacey?” Edmure asked his uncle during an evening walk in a quiet area of the castle.
“Uncle, treating her like this feels cold.” Ser Blackfish started to deny it, but stopped himself.
He looked at his nephew suspiciously.
“Is Lady Dacey the new bride you chose for me?” Edmure chuckled.
“Uncle, do you really think Lady Dacey is like those submissive ladies from the South who just obey whatever their elders decide?” Brynden stayed silent, though his posture relaxed slightly.
“Lady Dacey makes her own choices,” Edmure continued.
“If she likes you, that is her decision.
Why not just let things happen naturally?
I’ll ask you again: do you dislike her?” “I don’t dislike her, but I can’t say I like her in that way either.
I simply don’t want to get married, Edmure,” Brynden said, his voice stiff.
“I am old—twice her age.
I am content living alone.” “Uncle, when you face an enemy, do you tell them you are old?
As long as a man can stand and swing a sword, he isn’t old.” Edmure placed his hands on Brynden’s shoulders.
At fourteen, he was nearly as tall as his uncle.
“Do you think Lady Dacey doesn’t realize your age?
Has she ever complained that you are too old?” “Edmure, it’s one thing for Hoster and Catelyn to nag me, but why are you, a mere boy, pushing me to marry as well?” Brynden asked, sounding helpless.
“I’m not forcing you,” Edmure said innocently.
“I just don’t want you to close yourself off to the idea.
There is a wonderful woman right here—just get to know her.
Don’t leave yourself with regrets, and treat her with the respect she deserves.” Brynden didn’t argue, looking genuinely conflicted for once.
“As for why we want you to marry—we are your family,” Edmure added softly.
“Isn’t it natural to care?
Imagine when you eventually pass away…
should we remember you only with grief, or should we look at your children and smile?” He continued, “Why is the Tully banner half red and half blue?
Some say it represents the river and the soil, but I believe it stands for blood and water.
Blood is thicker than water.” Brynden was visibly moved.
“Besides, Uncle…
have you ever thought about what happens if a war breaks out?
If I die before I can marry and have children, what will become of Riverrun and the Riverlands?” Edmure knew his uncle was loyal and harbored no ambition for power; otherwise, he would never have brought up such a delicate topic.
This total trust, combined with Edmure’s grim forecast, made Brynden frown deeply.
“Edmure, stop speaking nonsense,” Brynden scolded him sharply.
“As long as I am breathing, I will never let any harm come to you.” “Say I die, and you know Father’s health is failing.
If he passes too, the title of Lord Paramount of the Riverlands goes to Catelyn, and then to her children,” Edmure pushed on, ignoring the scolding.
“I have nothing against House Stark, but the North is too far away.
How could my sister or her children properly rule the wealthy Riverlands from up here?” “The entire burden would fall on you.
You would be the last remaining Tully—completely alone, without support.
Do you think our lords would feel secure?” “So that’s why you introduced Lady Dacey to me,” Brynden said, putting the pieces together.
“She is lovely, but she can also carry heavy responsibilities, and her family is strong.” He then shook his head.
“But your whole argument relies on you dying.
The Seven Kingdoms are at peace right now.
King Robert is in his prime.
Aside from putting House Frey in their place, where else would a war even come from?” “If war breaks out, I will be leading the troops on the front lines,” Brynden added, trying to reassure his nephew.
“You will stay in the rear, managing morale for your father.
Once the outcome is clear, you can join the field to gain experience.” “Uncle, I know you would bring victory after victory to Riverrun, but I can’t hide behind you forever.” Both men knew the harsh truth: the battlefield held no mercy, and one had to prepare for the worst.
“Within three years, war will strike the Seven Kingdoms,” Edmure said with absolute conviction.
“Before we even deal with House Frey, a great lord will challenge the Iron Throne, turning against those who helped put King Robert on the seat.” The Three-Year Bet While Edmure knew exactly who would rebel in the future, Brynden had no idea.
They had previously agreed to deal with House Frey to prevent treachery, but his nephew’s sudden confidence about an impending war caught the old knight off guard.
“Things won’t break down that quickly,” Brynden murmured.
“I have a proposal.
Call it a joke if you like, but let’s make a bet,” Edmure said.
“For now, stop stressing over whether to marry her or not.
Just spend time with Lady Dacey.
Treat it as a friendship or a mentorship—whatever you prefer.” “After three years, you decide.
If war hasn’t broken out by then, you are free to do whatever you wish, and I will never mention marriage to you again.” Brynden hesitated.
“That isn’t fair to Lady Dacey.
She would be wasting three years of her youth.” “She already agreed to the bet,” Edmure revealed, having already discussed the terms with Dacey.
“She is willing to give you those three years.
Surely you aren’t less decisive than a woman?” “Don’t try to provoke me, boy,” Brynden said cautiously.
“Marriage is no joke.
But…
so your efforts and her good intentions don’t go to waste, I will give it a try.” “It’s a deal.
I won’t nag you anymore.” Seeing his uncle’s stance soften so significantly compared to when he first returned from the Vale, Edmure decided to step back.
He planned to formally invite Dacey to Riverrun once they returned south.
Later that day, Ser Brynden was seen in the library with Lady Dacey, pointing out strategic routes on a map for an assault on the Stepstones.
After nightfall, Edmure walked into the Godswood of Winterfell.
He knelt before the ancient heart tree to pray, while high above him on a snow-dusted branch, a three-eyed crow quietly landed.