297 AC
Alyx broke the pink sealing wax on the parchment that came with the rider. Wherever her beloved found pink sealing wax in the Mountains of the Moon, she would never know.
"Let's see here, everything from the High Road to the Redfort is clear," she read aloud. Conn, the soon-to-be lord, was master of the southern plateau at last. Already, he was sending his vicious Shadowscalps ranging further afield to harry the clans in the northern mountains. Mayhaps one or two thousand had fallen to the sword. Ten times that had starved or been forced to join their conquerors after their clan was broken. Alyx smiled. This vicious campaign had only taken half a year, and the promise of silver mines opening up would deny renegade clans anywhere to hide.
Her chambers in the Gates of the Moon were airy and spacious. Lord Nestor Royce was kind enough to find her a few floors of the tower that faced towards the mountains. She had a party of Frey household men-at-arms to guard her, but within these walls they proved quite unnecessary. Indeed, the Vale was safer than it had ever been, even with Lord Jon away. Constant raids and harassment from the mountain clans had tapered off to nearly nothing, and who did they praise for all this?
"My Domeric." She smiled, though none was there to see.
Alyx had gotten her first taste of what it meant to be Lady Bolton, and found she liked the flavor. Her betrothed wasn't just a tourney knight anymore but a proven war leader, well respected by all. That respect extended to her, she found. She wore pink silks and jewels, and carried a handbag unlike any other, the envy of every lady she met. Knights and lords were more than courteous, offering her the best place at feasts. All this she accepted gladly, but the best part was how merchants feared to cheat her.
The fires of Ser Domeric's war required constant fuel in the form of flour, salt beef, and freshly fletched arrows by the mule load. They needed herds of sure-footed shaggy garrons, the best horses for the mountains. Men from as far away as Harrenhal and Duskendale journeyed to bring them to her. Regular shipments were easy enough to organize, made even easier once the Moonfort was constructed. The stonemasons she'd contracted were even now working on an addition: a rookery fit for a Maester and his ravens. Sending letters by rider was tedious, after all.
Ah, and Imeco Oranis, who came highly recommended by her mother, was building a smelter to separate silver from base ores. It would all take place right here at the Gates of the Moon, where Lord Nestor could oversee the process and take his lord's share in tax. Domeric told her that men would forgive just about anything, save cheating them out of tax revenue. He also warned her about something called "inflation," where all the silver and copper coming down into the Vale might make prices go up. Master Oranis concurred, though he did not use that word. In any case, the worst of the problem would not show itself for some years, not until more mines were open and the smelter was operating at full capacity, but it was wise to take note of potential problems now.
She continued reading the letter, and most of it was routine. They wanted butter at the Moonfort, a few other odds and ends, and four wounded men were coming down to be seen by a Maester. Oh, what's this?
"He wants me to come up in person to witness a wedding!"
***
Riding a garron through those steep paths made for a less-than-pleasant journey, but she saw the sense in Domeric's request. The more highborn in attendance, the better. Her man was waiting for her at the base of the mountain! His consideration made her glad.
"It's going to be two weddings, actually. The sacred grove is not too far from the Moonfort, and our first trial mine."
"Oh?" Alyx raised an eyebrow. "It will not be just Lord Conn?"
"He's marrying Tyene Sand, which is well for us. She'll teach him how to be a lord, and hopefully direct his energies towards more productive tasks."
Alyx blushed. She had some notion of what Tyene saw as "productive."
"That is wise," she agreed. "Even if he has done you good service, Conn's loyalty to you is personal. He doesn't really understand what being a lord of the Seven Kingdoms means. Trade will integrate his people with time, but for the nonce, it is better he is occupied by warring with the remaining clans, and by Tyene."
Domeric looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well, they are quite inseparable. My man Jack Clarke is also marrying Obara Sand. It'll be a quick thing. Weddings before the gods are just a few words, and it's done."
"Two weddings!" Alyx said brightly. "I shall look forward to it. How much further up is the Moonfort?"
"Half a day, at this pace," he answered. "I know it's tedious, but better to be safe this high up. Falling off a ledge here is certain death. The garrons know the way. All you need is to trust them."
Alyx was no fool. There was one Sand he pointedly did not mention. "And what of Lady Nymeria?" she asked boldly.
Domeric did not answer right away. "She is well," he offered vaguely.
That wasn't an answer! "Is she pregnant?"
"...yes, but it's early."
"Why didn't you say so, my lord?"
Her betrothed sighed tiredly. "I did not wish to offend you, my lady. She is off to Dorne soon in any case. Lady Nym is not even a concubine, but just a temporary companion. I know you agreed to accept Mordaena, but this is different."
"It does not offend me, Domeric," she said, perhaps more forcefully than she intended. "I am not like other ladies. If she kept you warm at night in these cold and lonely mountains, what of it? I shall be your bride, and our babes shall have kin in Dorne. That is all. You must not fear to speak plainly with me. And, well, I shall have my turn once we are wed." Alyx was glad she was riding behind him so he couldn't see her blush.
"More than a turn," he promised. "We shall spend our whole lives together." He sat straighter in the saddle. "You're right. We must be open and honest with each other. I can promise this much: there will not be another. Despite what some people say, I am not a greedy man. You and Mordaena are more than enough."
Those words washed over her and soothed her aching legs.
***
Dom did not lie about the speed of weddings before the old gods. Obara and Jack with the big nose said a few words, retired to their bedroll, and it was done. Conn and Tyene took a little longer, mostly because she needed to change into a nicer gown. Alyx brought it herself, actually, a pretty dress of white satin slashed with red velvet, which would be the new colors of House Moonfort. Conn had wanted "House Shadowscalp," but Domeric talked him out of it.
The next day they all rode down the mountain together, unmolested and in complete safety. Workers at both the Moonfort itself and the nearby mine labored as they passed. Now a married man, Lord Conn Moonfort would bend the knee and swear to Lord Nestor Royce, in place of Jon Arryn, who was busy in the capital. It was a lively trip, with Conn practicing his vows again and again.
"To the Eyrie I pledge the faith of the Moonfort," he said, dressed in silks and looking quite the handsome young lord. Lord Nestor sat in the high seat at the Gates, receiving the homage with grim dignity. "Hearth and heart and harvest, I yield up to you, my lord. My swords and spears and arrows are yours to command. Grant mercy to my weak, help to my helpless, and justice to all, and I shall never fail you. I swear it by earth and water. I swear it by bronze and iron. I swear it by ice and fire." Conn looked terribly pleased with himself to get through all of that without stumbling over a single word. Tyene would not let him sleep until he'd said it ten times, Alyx remembered.
Lord Nestor Royce smiled. "Rise then, Lord Conn of the Moonfort and Warden of the Southern Mountains. I, Nestor of House Royce, in place of Lord Jon Arryn, in the name of King Robert, the first of his name, welcome you into the King's Peace and the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros." He held out his arms and the old man embraced the young one.
After that, they went over a document spelling out the shares Houses Moonfort, Arryn, and Bolton would receive from the new silver mines. Conn couldn't read, so it was read aloud to him by Tyene, and she took his hand in her own and showed him how to make his mark. Most relevant to Alyx, the Boltons would receive one-tenth part of the silver for thirty years, in recognition of Ser Domeric's contribution to the war, and putting up the money to build the smelter.
It turned out to be a season for weddings, as just a few days later they received word that Barrowton had been made ready, and Domeric's Aunt Barbrey would wed Prince Oberyn Martell when the moon turned. Farewell to the Vale! It was time to go North again!