She kept her hands fixed between his dark mane, fingers tracing soothing lines over his scalp. and she hummed softly.
“I thought, perhaps if it is a boy, we should name him Martyn for your father, or Rodrick for your uncle. As for a girl, I am not certain I can think of any I can settle on.”
“What about after one of your brothers?” He asked noticing how she had left them out of the equation. “Wylla, after Wylla the warrior maiden? Nymeria?” He asked unsure himself about what kind of name to give their child if it were a daughter. There were so many options and to choose one for the babe seemed impossible. Jory sat back, sighing heavily. “How did Eddard and Cat name all of their children.” he laughed shaking his head slightly.
There had been whispers of war, and she couldn’t bear the thought of it all. Not now, not while she had him back.The tears wiped from her eyes before coming to him, but the notion of distress was still present in her features.
“I overheard some Lords speaking to a southern invasion, Jory.”
Jory had heard about this coming war, but he had faith in his Lord, in House Stark and the others that the Southern invasion would be avoided and dealt with in something other than another pointless bloody war. It seemed before and after Robert’s reign as King there had been nothing but bloodshed. “That won’t come to pass. It can’t.” Jory told Isyla as he brought her into him and wrapped his arms around her. “If it does come, I will keep our family safe. I promise you that, Isyla.”
Goldnwulf 