Return of House Mudd

1st moon, 279 AC.

Upon his return from the Stormlands, Hosteen wasted no time in convening a meeting with the builders and masons overseeing the restoration of Oldstones. The ancient ruins, steeped in the weight of history, stood as both a challenge and an opportunity. The wind howled through the skeletal remains of once-proud towers, and the stones bore the scars of a thousand years. Yet, despite its decay, there was strength in its bones, a foundation that could be rebuilt upon, a castle reborn from its own ruin.

A master builder, a seasoned man named Willem, spread a collection of sketches and plans that had been based on Hosteen's drawings across a great oaken table in Hammerford's hall. Hosteen studied them carefully, his eyes tracing the outlines of walls that had long since crumbled.

"The old foundations are strong in some places, my lord," Willem admitted, tapping a rough sketch of the castle's layout. "But much has eroded over the centuries. The central keep's lower vaults remain sturdy, though we'll need to reinforce them. As for the outer curtain walls, the eastern side is beyond saving. We'll need new stone, quarried and brought upriver."

Hosteen nodded, already expecting as much. "How long before we see true progress?"

"A few years, my lord, even with all you have provided—stone, laborers, coin. Time cannot be bought."

Hosteen exhaled, crossing his arms. He had already committed much of his wealth to this project, or it least it had to seem that way, determined to raise Oldstones not just as a fortress but as a symbol. A symbol of his house's future.

"Then we do not delay," he said. "Set the masons to their work, and ensure they have what they need. I will not have my investment wasted by idle hands."

The builders nodded, murmuring their agreements before departing, leaving Hosteen to his thoughts. As the hall emptied, he turned to his steward, Adden.

"There is another matter," Hosteen said, gesturing toward a unsealed letter on the table. He had received it a moon before attending Lord Steffon Baratheon's funeral, but the gravity of that event had demanded his attention first. Now, with his return, it was time to revisit the words of Lord Blackwood.

The Blackwoods were one of the most storied families in the Riverlands, their lineage stretching back into the age of heroes. Unlike their ancient foes, the Brackens, they remained steadfast supporters of House Targaryen, and their influence was not to be underestimated. In his hands, the letter was a quiet but powerful thing, a promise and a pact sealed in ink.

Hosteen opened the letter again and reread the words he already knew by heart. Lord Blackwood proposed a marriage between his sister, Alysanne, and Hosteen himself. She was sixteen now—young, but not so young that such a match would be improper. Hosteen's own years put him in his early twenties, making it a reasonable, if slightly distant, union. The betrothal would tie House Mudd's blood to the Blackwoods, strengthening their ties among the Trident's noble houses.

Hosteen leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the wooden armrest. Marrying a Blackwood was a move of both ambition and caution. It would elevate his standing, binding him to a house of ancient prestige. Yet it would also draw the ire of the Brackens, who had warred with the Blackwoods for generations. Would it invite trouble? Possibly. But power was rarely gained without making enemies.

"I will send my reply," he murmured. "I will accept the match, but I will not wed her for two years. She is young yet, and there is no rush."

Adden inclined his head. "Shall I arrange for a visit to Raventree Hall, my lord? A personal appearance might strengthen the bond."

Hosteen considered this. A visit would be wise—seeing Lord Blackwood, speaking with him face to face, gauging the temperament of his future wife. Yet time was not a luxury he had in excess. A new maester was expected to arrive soon at Hammerford, and there were other matters that demanded his attention. Letters yet unread, decisions yet made.

"Not yet," he said at last. "There is much to settle here before I can ride to Raventree. But when the time is right, I will go."

His steward nodded, taking the letter and preparing to draft the response. Hosteen sat in silence for a moment longer, watching the flicker of the hearthfire. The path ahead was clear, but it would not be easy. Oldstones would rise. The Blackwood alliance would be secured. And one way or another, House Frey would carve its place in the Riverlands, whether the Brackens, or any others, liked it or not.

The letter from Lord Blackwood lay neatly folded to the side, its contents still fresh in his mind. His betrothal to Alysanne Blackwood was now to be settled, an alliance that would strengthen his standing among the noble families of the Riverlands. But for now, the matter of marriage could wait—there were other, more pressing concerns at hand.

His gaze drifted to the newly opened parchment from Lord Jason Mallister, its words carefully penned and filled with promise. The offer was clear: Lord Mallister sought Hosteen's assistance in funding the construction of a port near Seaguard, an endeavor that would undoubtedly benefit both of their houses. In return, Mallister would aid in the development of Hosteen's own port along the Blue Fork, near Oldstones.

It was a tempting proposition. Seaguard was already a formidable stronghold with its Ironborn-proof defenses, and a port by the blue fork would only serve to increase its influence over trade along the western shores as well as assert dominance over other riverlords, for none of them had a port that could trade to the west and the east. Seaguard would have both. Yet, therein lay the problem—while Hosteen's own port was already taking form, the one near Seaguard would need to be built from the ground up. Such a task would demand immense resources, time, and careful oversight.

Hosteen leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. He could not afford to stretch himself too thin. His priority had to be the Blue Fork port first. He needed to ensure its completion before even considering another major investment. The lands around Oldstones were still being developed; roads needed improvement, storehouses and docks needed completion, and a reliable network of merchants had to be established, not to mention Oldstones itself. If he diverted funds now, he risked slowing down his own ambitions.

Yet, outright rejecting Mallister would be unwise. The Mallisters were one of the more respected families in the Riverlands, their naval strength unmatched by any other house in the region. If Hosteen could maintain a strong relationship with them, it would serve him well in the years to come.

Taking up his quill, Hosteen drafted a response:

To Lord Jason Mallister of Seaguard,

Your offer is one of great merit, and I do not doubt the wisdom of such an endeavor. A port at Seaguard would strengthen the western trade routes and further cement our region's prosperity. However, as you know, my own port near the Blue Fork is still in its infancy. I must see it to completion before turning my attention elsewhere. I propose that we revisit this matter once my current undertaking has reached full function. At such a time, I would be most willing to discuss further cooperation on a project of mutual benefit.

In the meantime, I would welcome further discourse on how we may strengthen ties between our houses beyond the scope of trade. Your wisdom and experience are always of value.

With respect,

Lord Hosteen Mudd of Hammerford and Oldstones

He set the quill aside and let the ink dry before sealing the letter with his sigil. It was a careful balance—showing interest without overcommitting himself, leaving the door open for further negotiations while ensuring his own priorities remained intact.

As he set the letter aside for delivery, another thought crept into his mind—one that had been forming ever since he first envisioned the Blue Fork project. Trade in the east was one thing, but if he truly wished to become a dominant figure in Riverlands commerce, he could not limit himself to a single port. The western trade routes were just as crucial, if not more so, given the reach they had into the Sunset Sea and beyond.

Seaguard was an attractive option, but there was another site he had in mind—Hook Bay. A port there would provide an alternative route for goods, although it was near seaguard it would not be a Mallister controlled port, but a port controlled by house Mudd, that would mean, that house Mudd would have access to the west as it did to the east. It would give him access to trade along the western coast, from the Reach to the Westerlands and even to the Iron Islands, should the need arise. But like the Seaguard project, it was a future ambition, one that required careful planning and foresight. But there was another problem to it, if Hosteen wanted to strengthen ties between Seaguard and Oldstones he would need to have a good explanation to build a rivalling port near Seaguard.

Hosteen called for a map to be brought to him. When it was spread across the desk, he studied the Riverlands with careful eyes. Hammerford, Oldstones, the Blue Fork—his immediate dominion. Further north, Seaguard, and westward, Hook Bay.

He marked out possible trade routes, considering the flow of goods, the tides, the dangers of raiders, and the potential allies who would benefit from such an expansion. If he played this right, if he took his time and built strategically, he could establish himself not just as a rising power, but as a cornerstone of commerce in the region.

The foundation was already being laid. He only needed to ensure that he did not overreach before it was strong enough to hold.

With his large terretory especially without vassals, Hosteen found himself increasingly occupied with matters of governance. The past few moons had proven that his rule was being accepted by the people, as the reports from his scouts painted a promising picture. The villages under his domain spoke highly of him, grateful for the development of their lands and the relatively low taxes he imposed. Harvests had been good, roads were being improved, and trade flourished with the construction of his port along the Blue Fork. His careful balancing of economic growth and fair taxation had earned him the loyalty of his smallfolk—something many lords took for granted but Hosteen valued greatly.

Yet, with growth came challenges. Banditry was a persistent nuisance in any land, but Hosteen's patrols had been diligent in keeping them at bay. However, recent reports suggested that a more organized threat had begun to emerge. A faction of armed men, no mere brigands, had begun to skulk about his lands. These men were not simple outlaws preying on travelers; they were led by a man with a claim, a relative of the former Lord Pemford—a nephew through Pemford's sister, a woman who had wed a commoner. The nephew, emboldened by the backing of some unknown benefactor, had begun to stir unrest, seeking to reclaim what he believed to be his rightful inheritance.

Hosteen had little patience for such pretenders. He knew well enough that for a bastard-born nephew of a disgraced lord to raise a proper force, he required support from someone with deeper pockets. The quality of arms and armor his scouts described made it clear that this was not a ragged band of desperate men—these were soldiers, trained and equipped with steel beyond their station. Hosteen had his suspicions, and his gaze turned northward to the Twins.

Lord Walder Frey, ever ambitious, had always sought to expand his influence deeper into the Riverlands. It would not surprise Hosteen if the old weasel had decided to fund this pretender as a means of destabilizing his rule. If the nephew of Lord Pemford could carve out a claim, the Freys would have another vassal in their pocket. But Hosteen would not allow such treachery to go unchecked. He needed to act decisively.

For now, his men could handle these bandits. His patrols had already eliminated a fair number of them, but if left unchecked, this rabble could grow into something far more dangerous. He would need to strengthen his military, ensuring that his domain remained secure. His thoughts turned to the Blackwoods and the Brackens—his looming betrothal to Alysanne Blackwood would entangle him in their ancient feud, but for now, his decision remained private. That secrecy allowed him to maneuver without restriction, particularly when dealing with House Bracken.

The Brackens, famed for their horse breeding, were a necessary resource for Hosteen's ambitions. His growing domain required swift and mobile forces to counteract the bandit threat, and there was no better way to do that than by increasing his number of mounted troops. He drafted a letter to Lord Bracken, proposing a lucrative trade:

To Lord Jonos Bracken,

I write to you as a fellow lord of the Trident, one who recognizes the strength and value of House Bracken's famed steeds. The times grow uncertain, and we must all ensure that our lands remain protected from those who seek to disrupt the King's Peace.

I propose a simple but mutually beneficial arrangement—200 of your finest horses in exchange for 2,000 gold dragons. I assure you, my coffers run deep, and my gratitude for a swift transaction would not be forgotten.

Should this offer find favor with you, I welcome further correspondence and negotiations at your earliest convenience.

Lord Hosteen of Hammerford and Oldstones

Satisfied with the offer, Hosteen sealed the letter and dispatched it with one of his trusted riders. The Brackens were always looking to profit, and such a deal would be difficult for Lord Bracken to refuse. It would allow Hosteen to swiftly expand his cavalry and prepare for whatever challenges lay ahead, whether it be pretenders in his lands or schemes from the Freys.

For now, his priorities were clear. The pretender and his bandits would be crushed, his port would continue to develop, and his alliances would be carefully cultivated. Hosteen was no fool—he knew that strength was the currency of lords, and he intended to ensure his rule over Hammerford remained unquestioned. The coming years would be crucial, and he would be ready for whatever they brought.