Island of Tarth and Helping Someone In Need

Tarth was both similar and different to the rest of the Stormlands. It was a very cliff-y place, filled with sharp rocks and steep drops. But instead of the stormy waters and grey skies I'd come to get used to, Tarth was surrounded by bright blue waters that had an almost gem-like appearance.

"No wonder they call this place the Sapphire Isle...It's beautiful," I said, breathless, as I looked off the cliff I was on and at the waters below and in front of me.

Well, though I said I was on a cliff...it was more of a very high pillar. Towards the east end of the island, the land picked up for some reason, ending in a few stony pillars. The one I was on right now was the flattest yet also tallest one. The wind battered against my sitting form but I didn't move an inch only my tunic and clothes ruffling heavily in the sea breeze.

Getting up here was easier than I thought it'd be but I guess that's the benefit of being genetically superior AND having Super Soldier enhancements. Speaking of my enhancements, I really wonder how my bones haven't been pulverized by that covering all the SPARTAN II's got when they underwent their augmentations. How do I know I have it? Because I've punched a rock really freaking hard and I didn't break my hand.

That could be due to my superior cells and genetics giving me strong bones but from what I've seen from my other attributes...while I was many times stronger than a child, I was still a child. A punch with 100% of my muscular strength going against a rock, should've shattered my hand.

Instead, I only cut up my hand all over. My bones were fine. Hence why I knew they'd been augmented. Plus, I could enter Spartan Time, so I knew I had the augmentations right now.

I looked at the sea for a few more seconds before standing up and beginning to climb down the rocky pillar. My strength, coordination, sheer kinaesthesia (the ability know where my body parts are and move them accordingly without problem) and my experience with climbing, allowed me to make short work of the climb.

You see, using 100% of my stronger-than-average kid muscles allows me to exert the same power as someone in their earlier teens. The low number is mainly because it's limited by my muscle mass, and despite having some super cells and genetics that would rival John-117*, I was still a 5-year-old. Despite being tall and somewhat broad for my age, my muscle mass was limited. Something I hoped to quickly change when I entered puberty.

(*A/N - For those who don't know, to be a SPARTAN II the candidates had to be above a certain genetic level. Hence why having similar genes to a SPARTAN is a huge advantage. Think of them as natural born Athletes/Soldiers with more physical and mental potential than other more normal people.)

After all, what's the use of being able to use 100% of my muscular strength if I don't have muscles? Would be a waste, honestly.

Getting down off the pillar, I did a quick stretch before picking up into a jog, heading back for the main Hall. I'd been gone for a certain amount of time and I'd bet both my guards and those who were sent to greet me are beginning to get worried.

I ran through the grass, smiling to myself as I felt the fresh air and cool breeze hit my skin.

Such pure air and such a lovely breeze. Miles ahead of what you can feel in the 21st century. This is a world untouched by man-made pollution and machines.

But I had to snap myself out of such a thought. This wasn't a nice world either. What the 21st century lacked in clean air and a lack of pollution, it was also a lot safer. Generally speaking at least. At least there was such a thing as public health in the 21st century and political struggles were a lot less...well, death-filled. Most countries weren't at war with themselves either. Well, outright war anyway.

I quickly came to the town outside the great castle and I've gotta say...I was surprised by what I saw.

A sort of fight was happening on the muddy street between the buildings. People walked passed it like it was some sort of common occurrence, not turning to it or stopping it. It wasn't exactly what you'd call a fight to the death but from the metallic taste and smell in the air, blood was definitely being spilled. Getting closer, I saw this was the case as the person who seemed to be on the losing end was knocked to the floor, showcasing her bloody nose but determined eyes.

I could easily tell it was a her as well. Dressed in a fancy blue dress that was now bloodied and seemed to have a tear up the side. Though that looked intentional. Probably to do with allowing more movement or easier movement.

But from the state of the dress and the fact it was torn, told me who this was.

Let's not forget the fact it's a girl of highborn descent (the dress was exceedingly high quality) and she's blond.

She also seems bigger than the boy beating her and is only losing because she lacks skill and the boy seems to have legitimate training. But seeing all this, I smiled quite widely. But I knew it was only a matter of time before I met her. I was on the Island of Tarth, after all, her home.

The girl went in for a lunge, but I could clearly see she'd overreached and so could the boy she was up against. He dodge to the side and simply took her legs out from under her.

She fell to the ground and the boy and his friends laughed. They laughed and they laughed.

Each bit of laughter seemed to physically hit the girl. She seemed so...beaten. Not physically. But mentally. Spiritually. Yet determination soon lit up in her eyes and she slammed her hand into the muddy ground, pushing herself up. Not before the boy's boot found her back and pushed her down again.

The cheeky twat sneered as he ground his foot into the girl's back, "What do you think you're doing, Brienne? You're a girl, you can't fight as good as a boy!" he shouted and I tried my best not to laugh - he was talking to one of the better fighters in the future GoT world.

No doubt if she knew how to use her better size and strength, she'd no doubt crush the little twerp in front of her.

Alas, she was untrained and worn out from the beating.

...Well, wouldn't right now be the time to get some brownie points for the future?

I thought so. So, instead of holding in my laugh, I sneered and let out my laughter in full volume. Really cracking up at the kid who was speaking such shit but mainly because he didn't know he was talking nonsense. If this were some sort of Xianxia, in the future, Brienne would return to Tarth and confront this guy, showing him she could kick his ass.

Luckily I wasn't in such a shitty world - I don't want to wade through an absurd amount of 'arrogant young master'-types to get through my life peacefully, thank you very much.

My laughter came as a surprise to all involved, with the boy and his group looking over to me. Not only would I get some future brownie points...but I could also have a little fight. They're always fun.

. . .

POV Change - Brienne Tarth

Like always, the boys of the Knights who served my house mocked me. Called me a troll, a beast...Mocking my figure and it's athletic-nature.

Father told me to ignore them...that my eyes were beautiful and that one day a man I would wed would see that. But I'd given up hope. I wished so dearly for not a husband, but for a friend I could turn to. All the girls in the castle were either maids or the children of maids. None of them spoke to me in fear of getting themselves or their mother's in trouble.

It had only gotten worse after the boy currently digging her foot into my back, Willem, spread that I was a savage who had giant's blood. Father tried his best to get it to stop. He made Willem's father, a Knight who was sworn to our house and one of my father's personal guard, discipline his son.

But this only made it worse.

The teasing, the taunting, the jokes at my expense...They all continued.

But what could my father do? He wasn't a tyrant who'd exile or execute people because of mean comments. In the words of the Master-at-arms Ser Goodwin, this was only child's play, which is why no drastic action is taken against the jeering boys.

There's also the fact that I start most of the fights, so I am also to blame for my injuries as well...

Father laughingly said he wished I wasn't as headstrong as my mother but he loved me for it anyway. I miss mother. I wish to be strong enough to not leave father, either.

Such thoughts filled me with determination. But before I could act on that determination, I heard a laugh. Pure and full of melody. I wondered what the joke was when I realized: The joke was probably me.

I struggled to look up at my new tormentor only to be surprised he wasn't even looking at me as he was laughing. He was looking at Willem who was still putting his foot into my back.

The boy had bright red hair that looked somewhat wavy and unkempt - wild, almost. His eyes were a solid red color, looking with no small amount of disdain at Willem. He was also tall. Even taller than me. Based off of his height and figure, I thought he was much older than us. But upon looking at his childish and immature face, I could see that he might actually have been younger than us?

I was 7 while Willem was 8. Most of his friends were my age or his age. So to be younger than us but also taller...does this boy have Giant's blood in him?

But then it suddenly clicked. The red hair...the young face...the news father had told me yesterday. This boy was the page sent by House Connington. Their second born son, Lucius Connington. Why was he here and laughing, however? Shouldn't he have been taken to the castle to meet father?

Willem, also confused by his laughter and yet intimidated by his size, stuttered out, "W-why are you laughing?"

"Spoilers," he replied, confusing us all even more but without leaving Willem time to question him further, Lucius, or rather the boy I suspected to be Lucius, crossed the distance between himself and Willem in a second and instantly I felt my back become free of Willem's foot and the weight behind it. Then I quickly registered the dull sound of the hit.

I flipped around and saw Willem passed out and the red-haired boy fighting Willem's friends.

He didn't look exceptionally well-trained. But his natural ability more than made up for it as he moved with grace and power, easily ducking and weaving between punches with a small smile on his face. Each of his punches took out another person, with them gasping for breath or dropping to the floor like they'd been hit by someone with rocks for fists.

Even the lucky punches Willem's friends did get in did nothing to stop the red-haired boy I was beginning to know was Lucius.

House Connington...they had Griffins on their coat of arms, no? This boy...is truly like a Griffin. Strong and graceful, courageous and noble. I wonder, could this boy teach me how to fight? Would he be friends with me? Would he listen to me and not judge me for being a girl? For being tall and athletic-looking?

I hope so. I really really hope so.

The fight was over before it had even really started and Lucius was left standing over the boys who'd been tormenting me, looking every bit victorious as he actually was. Not even a single scratch on his person.

Then he turned to me, those blood red eyes staring right at me, "Ah, forgive me, Brienne of Tarth," he bowed and for the first time other than when I was with my father, I felt oddly accepted.

. . .

POV Change - Lucius Connington

Brushing my hands together like I'd just finished some menial work, which I had in a way, I turned to Brienne, "Ah, forgive me, Brienne of Tarth," I said with a smile and a bow. Etiquette had been bashed into my head as soon as I was born and despite my plans for the future, it didn't hurt to be polite and respectful to those who deserve it, does it? Anyway, despite my thoughts, I carried on, "My name is Lucius Connington. I'm the new page. It's a pleasure to meet you," I said with a smile.

Brienne didn't quite know what to say and just looked up at me with her sapphire blue eyes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish's. Just like the seas that surrounded Tarth. Huh.

Even through the mud covering her face and the bleeding nose, I could tell she was somewhat pretty. Opposed to how she was described in the books at least. Her teeth were straight, her lips, though cut right now, were normal sized and her facial features were quite nice. She'd be a beautiful woman when she grew up.

Yet I do understand why the bullying was still happening. She was tall and broad for a girl and for her age. Her figure wasn't obscenely wide or muscular but it was broad and athletic enough to go beyond Westerosi beauty standards which consider slender women to be the best type of woman.

As a man of culture from the 21st century, my preferences were a bit wider than the average Westerosi male. I like thick girls, athletic girls, petite girls, small tits, big tits--pretty much any girl as long as they're off age and aren't outright atrocious looking.

A very superficial outlook, I know. But it's my outlook nonetheless.

Putting a hand out toward her, I smiled, "Come on, get up, we need to go see your father. I ran off to explore the island as soon as I got here and might've messed up any plans he had so I have to go apologize a little," I laughed, somewhat embarrassed at my childish curiosity for the Island of Tarth. But can you blame me? I'd been cooped up in Griffin's Roost (my family's castle) for five years, all while knowing I'm in a new world full of new thing! As soon as I got here, my sense of adventure was fully roused.

Brienne, still unsure on how to reply, tentatively took my hand and I easily enough pulled her up. Taking my other hand, I wiped the mud off her face and used my sleeve to wipe off the blood around her lips and nose before checking her nose.

"Annnd...good, it's not broken," I laughed as I stopped looking at her nose. Partly because I'd indeed felt and seen that it wasn't broken but also because Brienne was becoming flustered.

How did I know it wasn't broken? Well, as much as a deadbeat I might have been in my past life, I'd still lived a life, you know? I'd been in a few fights and dealt with a few broken noses and knew the telltale signs of them by now.

Anyway, turning around, I dragged Brienne by the hand toward Evenfall Hall, the main castle for the people of Tarth. Man, I can't wait to find all it's secrets! I mean, it's an old ass castle. It's gotta have secrets, right?

And with that, we marched on toward meeting the Lord of House Tarth, the Evenstar* Selwyn Tarth.

(*A/N - It's what the Lords of Tarth call themselves. They're still referred to as 'Lords of Tarth' by others but among the people of Tarth, they're called the Evenstar. No idea why, they just are. Just tradition, I guess.)