The Truth Revealed

Just as the moon began to fall, signifying the last quarter of the day before the sun began to rise marking a new day, Helena moved from camp pulling her cart with every step, leaving the slumbering Theobald behind.

The morning dew glistened as the sun rose, providing quite the sight for Helena's weary eyes. Having been seeing the same green landscape for days on end, the beautiful change brought upon the dew that seemed to shift with every step helped to refresh Helena's mind for the journey ahead…

Who knows how many moons it will take to reach the Westerlands, she knew of the roads to take, the villages to rest in, all thanks to her Father's chats with his more adventurous/mercantile friends… Though how long it'd take to cross that distance, Helena was unaware.

The closer she grew to the village, the quicker Helena's heart pounded in her chest… The worries she had smothered with thought resurfacing once more, as she internally debated whether she should risk being conscripted or accused of being a deserter, or be underestimated due to being a woman traveling alone in the midst of a war…

When a person's intrusive thoughts are the loudest… A sharp breath tore through her lips as she silenced her wayward thoughts, it wouldn't be long and Helena knew better than to change clothes in the empty surroundings, it was hard to tell what lay amongst the tall grass…

Helena would walk into the village as she was, and improvise as the situation unfolds.

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As night fell upon the final day of the second moon, Helena could see distant torchlight moving in the distance, faintly illuminating the shape of the village Helena had been worried had been burnt down and pillaged…

A breath filled with the weight of her worries slipped from her lips, and for the first time in a while Helena felt her mind begin to ease allowing the built—up exhaustion to seep through, yet a sharp inhale washed it away hopefully for a few more hours…

Some distance from the outskirts of the village, Helena stopped to rest her legs knowing that approaching the village during the night would only brew unwanted suspicion, she had grown intent on waiting till the sun had risen a quarter way through the sky before continuing the rest of the way to the village…

It didn't help that she didn't have a torch, and wandering the village at night without one would only have the Watchmen and Guards pressing her for coin to 'right her wrongs'…

The night felt unnaturally long, as every moment seemed to drag on for eternity, and it hadn't taken long for her mind to pull something from its depth, recalling a passing of hands, the interlocking of fingers, sweet words that didn't fully register in Helena's mind. Yet, instilled a sense of fluttering in her gut…

A truly odd sensation that Helena could only compare to the experiences her Mother, and Father had left behind… one that reminded Helena that she was barely a month old, a vast disparity compared to her physical age and the maturity of experience that had been left behind. Thus, Helena's thoughts drifted to the wandering maester's ramblings, is this what he had meant? All this knowledge and familiar yet foreign experience that drifted throughout her mind, which held four decades of life… Was this the true gift left behind by Mother and Father, or was this simply a happy coincidence…?

Helena couldn't help but doubt… A daughter couldn't help but fear that she wasn't doing good enough, that she wasn't putting in enough effort to learn what her parents had left behind.

Father could read and write, he knew his way around a forge, and was capable in a tavern scrap. While mother was proficient with needle and thread and contributed the most to Helena's birth… Without her body—

Helena shook her head, dispelling her thoughts before they could trail any further, a breath tore through her lips as she felt those familiar fragments slowly spread a familial warmth through her body. A smile graced Helena's lips as she internally whispered a few loving words to the lingering remnants of her parents, a few tears ran down her cheeks, the dampness causing the night air to feel especially cold though the gentle breeze quickly dried the trails they dropped from Helena's chin all the same…

The night dragged on, and eventually the sun's first rays peered across the horizon, washing through the darkness of night and dispelling Helena's seemingly endless line of introspection. Pulling a small bundle of edible roots from her cart, Helena began to soothe her growing hunger whilst sparingly using foraged mint leaves to supplement the taste.

As noon slowly approached, Helena, partly tired of waiting around and partly spurred by her nerves, grabbed her cart and made her way towards the village one step at a time. As she drew nearer, it quickly became increasingly obvious that the village was being used as a rear encampment… As she pulled her cart past the wooden palisades, Helena was momentarily taken by the sheer number of armored folk, whether it be as minimal as leather or as worthwhile as chainmail, even the occasional piece of metal plate reflecting the sun caught her eyes. Slowly, gazes began to fall upon her frame, watching her with poorly veiled wariness yet she paid them far too much mind as her nerves were already drowning her mind with a newfound sensitivity to their gazes…

"Oi! Name! Place of Origin! Occupation!" One of the armored folk shouted out, despite leaning against a crutch his hand never left the hilt of the sword fastened to his waist.

Helena's eyes washed through the surrounding entrance of the village. She saw many injured and her hoarse voice fell from her tongue, "I came from the raided village to the east, the child of a blacksmith with some knowledge in the work!"

A few hushed whispers flared, before the well armored figure shouted out once more silencing the surrounding chatter, "What's in the cart?!"

"What I could salvage from my village… Sadly, the flames had already died out by the time I arrived… Managed to bury my family however…"

"I see. May the Stranger guide them, and the Mother welcome them…" A few murmurs echoed his words, but they fell quietly as he spoke once more, "Son of a Blacksmith you say…?"

Helena evaded outright agreeing with his words, "I can't say I can work metal as well as my Father, and his Father, but I know how to maintain weapons and work iron."

"Good," The armored man gave a curt reply, "Head to the quartermaster in the Village Center, and have him show you to the Forge. Welcome to war."

Helena paled the moment the curt reply fell from his lips, and internally curses ran abundant through her mind… What was she to do now…?

As Helena mindlessly pulled her cart to the Village Center, her mind ran rampant…

Was she shedding her male disguise in favor of evading military service? What would become of her if it was revealed that she was a woman… Would she be taken as a camp whore; the very same her grandmother had stressed for grandfather to avoid—

Helena's mind came to a screeching halt, what was she to do if she ran into Grandfather… It wasn't as if the man would believe that she was his granddaughter, let alone how he'd take having his child and lover murdered and his village burnt to the ground…

Helena's mind once again ran rampant with thought, and her focus only returned to her surroundings when somebody snapped their fingers in her face, "Ya' dull in the head?! I said move ya' shit!"

Instinctually a frown came upon her face as his grating voice filled her ears, though a displeasure washed through her mind at the realization of the lack of focus she had kept on her surroundings… Perhaps the days of silent solitude had instilled a lack of awareness that needed to be swiftly dealt with, Helena dipped her head to both hide her expression and to show some sense of apology before pulling her cart to the side and raising her head and searching for whom ever looks like he has some actual authority…

However, Helena focus pulled away as she heard a familiar 'ding' and her gaze was pulled to the source of the sound drifting up slightly to catch a darkness fading into the sky and slowly began to pull her cart in that direction, the loud chatter that she had only heard through the memories of Father and Mother once again shoved into the background in favor of the familiar impacts of the hammer—

Only to immediately chide herself for once again pushing the surroundings into a lack of focus, having been so curious…? Was that the word for what she felt when she heard that familiar sound…?

Slowly, she began to smell the burning charcoal, and that heat of burning flames caressing her skin in a manner reminiscent of a warm glow that brought a content smile to her face. That warmth seemed to seep through her body with a sensation that felt like regret, but was far more complex than anything she'd ever felt for herself… Then, Helena saw a face rising from a deep thought in front of the forge. A face familiar yet unfamiliar…

That foul taste crept into the back of her mouth as she forcibly recalled her father's final moments—

Helena swiftly shook her head, in an attempt to push the recollection away, while the taste in her mouth only grew more pronounced. A word laid upon her tongue waiting for a moment to slip from her tongue, a moment she wouldn't allow as it would only serve to make her life far more difficult… Especially if the man standing before her heard the word slip from her lips…

"You all good?" The familiar blacksmith asked as he pulled a heated, malformed cuirass from the forge and laid it upon his anvil.

"Yeah," Helena's voice was hoarse, yet weak as she found herself incapable of meeting the man's eyes in fear of revealing something she shouldn't…

"You need something…?"

Helena went to shake her head, but stopped herself a rampage of thought ran through her mind before a sigh left her lips, "Yeah, could you point me in the direction of the tavern?"

"Ha! You found it."

Helena's gaze washed over the stone foundation, and misshapen walls a realization falling upon her that the forge had been moved to the remnants of a rather large building, instead of the varying height of the stone walls acting as a windbreak to keep a steady flame, though her Grandfather continued as his eyes lingered on the cart at her back, "I take it your a merchant, and probably looking for a place to rest your head come nightfall… I'd recommend talking to the quartermaster about buying your wares… Ah! William!"

As if his eyes caught something in the distance, he called out to someone behind Helena his hand raised as if to pull their attention, before his gaze fell back onto Helena, "William here will help you get what you need, now I have to beat the dents out this cuirass before night fall or I'll fell behind on my work."

As William the Quartermaster approached, Helena quickly weighed the benefits of revealing the truth of her gender against the perceived benefits of keeping it hidden… It seemed she had another story to weave…

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[2 Moons Later | 5th Moon 281 A.C.]

Drenched in a layer of sweat infused soot, Helena brought a hammer down upon a red tinged plate of steel, slowly beating it into a pointed couter that would match the one that she had finished almost an hour ago…

Some distance away, at another billowing forge sat her Grandfather working a recently finished sword on the grinding wheel. How she had managed to avoid being revealed as a woman was purely out of her mind as it seemed that her luck was the only thing that kept such a secret… The sheer number of times, she had somebody walk in the moment she had finished dressing herself, or the sheer number of excuses she had to spin when the time of her bleed came around where quickly beginning to build up in the depths of her mind, and when paired with the fact that her Grandfather who had no idea she existed, let alone the fact that he was by no means old enough for grandchildren of her age… Helena was at her wits end trying to keep the seemingly insurmountable weight from her shoulders from affecting her mind.

Though, it wasn't all bad… The occasional drunken brawls she was dragged into allowed Helena to further recall her Father's best and worst moments in the Alehouse, and the time spent in the forge with her Grandfather had allowed Helena to further refine the Blacksmithing capabilities her Father had left her…

The basic training she was dragged into as a member of the rear encampment had allowed Helena to grow more confident with a number of weapons, though the focus of the rear encampment had been on pikes and spears. It helped that she had been able to help rebuild the village, allowing Helena to pull her mind away from the awkwardness of being around her Grandfather. As well as the fact, that word has spread through the camp that soon they'll be moving to keep within reasonable riding distance of the main encampment.

Whispers of the Battle of the Ruby Ford from the injured that had been moved to this rear encampment speak of the Crown Prince's death at the hands of Robert Baratheon had grown excessively the last few days, now having grown to the point that men speak of the fall of the Crown as simply as they speak of what they ate to break their fast.

"Theo! The Quartermaster's calling for you—"

"Aye, I'll be right there!" Helena looked up from the impact point of her hammer, to find the runner catching his breath.

"He's out in the field to the north—"

"Alright," Helena curtly added as she set the unfinished courter to the side, before wiping her hands with a damp sweat soaked, soot stained square of linen that rested on the lip of a water filled barrel. The long hours stood before the heat of the forge, and under the blazing sun had not done her temper any good… Not wanting to have the Quartermaster thinking of ways to further busy her day, Helena set out in a steady jog towards the northern fields where William waited…

Moving through the bustling Rear Encampment, ignoring the groans and moans of pain or pleasure that she had grown accustomed to ignoring and the foul stench of rot, decay, and burnt flesh that her sense of scent outright refused to believe existed, Helena soon came upon a small group stood outside of the village. Among them, Helena instantly recognized William and having heard her approach, William turned to welcome Helena, "Theo, it's good that you've arrived… It's been brought to my attention, by this good maester—" He stepped aside allowing Helena a clear view of the wandering maester that had stumbled upon her camp all those moons ago, the very same maester who took it upon himself to join the Rear Encampment and bring no small amount of worry to Helena's mind and now that worry began to turn into panic…

As if reading her expression the Quartermaster halts his words, "So, it seems to be true, if the look on your face is to be true… By the gods, I don't know how not a soul in the camp has realized…"

Helena furrowed her brows, as Theobald devolved into a poorly stifled giggle, while the Quartermaster continued, "I won't ask why you hid that you're a woman, as I probably would have done much the same. The men have had no trouble with your presence in the forge, and Justan's had nothing but praise for your work…"

Helena's eyes washed through the others standing around the Quartermaster and the Maester, all silently watching… Lord Tully caught her gaze with a small smile, and a shake of his head before he spoke, interrupting the Quartermaster, "In all my days, I've never seen a situation like this… Normally it's the men dressing themselves up as women to avoid the war… Not women dressing as men to fight in it."

"My lord, I didn't seek to fight—"

"Quiet," Lord Tully's voice was sharp as it halted Helena's words, "I care not for whatever excuses you spout, the fact alone that you've lied to every man here is enough for me to have you beheaded. I expect you to return to camp, and return to your duties…"

Helena dipped her head low, "As you command, my lord…"

As left earshot, Theobald's giggles broke out into full blown laughter as Lord Tully grew a wry smile, his old voice filling the space, "I told you her face would be priceless. The number of times she'd avoid me with panic in her eyes had brought me no small amount of joy."

"Maester, you should have informed me the moment you learned of such news—"

"Ah, shut it. Brynden, you knew me well enough to know that I seek to enjoy the smallest things in life."

William fell silent as the Maester chided Lord Tully with a playful grin, "Robert already tried to lay his claim upon the lass, and even knowing he was the King of the Rebellion she wasn't moved to warm his bed. The lass has heart, and one tempered enough to kill bandits and learned enough to know better than to trust a wandering maester. Could she be the bastard your father had…?"

Brynden shook his head, "She's far too young, perhaps she's of the bastard's kin… Not that it truly matters, Robert already passed down his orders… The woman is not to be tried for her actions, and is to be treated as any other soldier in his army until he claims the throne and finds Lady Lyanna Stark to be trained as his Lady's Hand."

Theobald chuckled, "Only that boy would think of knighting a woman so that he could lay her… I swear that boy needs to stop waving his cock about, or we'll have another Blackfyre rebellion on our hands…"

William sweated as he found himself in a conversation that stood far above his station…

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(A/NStats -

Main Level: 21

Strength: 8 [||||———————] -

• Basic Knowledge [Leverage]

Agility: 6 [||||||||——————] -

• Basic Knowledge [Breathing]

Vitality: 7 [|||||||||||||||||————] -

• Minor Uncommon Illness Resistance

Combat -

Defense: 3 [||||||||||||||||———] +

Warfare: 0 [|||-——————] +

Axe: 3 [||||||||||||||||||||||||—] +

Bow: 0 [———————] +

Hammer/Mace: 0 [||||||—————-] +

Spear: 4 [||||||||||||||———-] +

Sword: 3 [|||||||||||————] +

Unarmed: 6 [|||||||||—————] -

• Basic Knowledge [Stance]

Skills -

Alchemy: 0 [———————] +

Blacksmithing: 7 [||||||||||||||||||——-] -

• Basic Knowledge [Iron]

Bowery: 0 [———————] +

Carpentry: 6 [||—-———-——] +

• Basic Knowledge [Rough Building]

Drinking: 5 [|—————-——] +

• Tempered Gut

Herbalism: 3 [|||||||||||————-] +

Horsemanship: 0 [———————] +

Houndmaster: 0 [———————] +

Hunting: 0 [———————] +

Lockpicking: 0 [———————] +

Maintenance: 10 [||——————] -

• Basic Knowledge [Tools]

• Basic Knowledge [Weapons]

Pickpocketing: 0 [———————] +

Reading: 2 [|||||——————] +

Tailoring: 7 [||||||||||||||||||||——] -

• Basic Knowledge [Linen]

Stealth: 3 [||||——————] +

Total Level: 62

[Basic Knowledge (Stance): You have come to reach a minor understanding of how to keep your balance, a moderate understanding of how to position your body when pertaining to unarmed combat.]

[Basic Knowledge (Rough Building): You have a minor understanding of how to build the skeleton of small to medium sized wooden buildings, and a moderate understanding of various types of wood cuts/joints and their uses when pertaining to the initial construction of buildings.]

[Tempered Gut: Your body has come to a minor understanding of how to better process alcohol, and a moderate boost in alcohol tolerance.]

[Basic Knowledge (Weapons): You possess a basic understanding of how to maintain/sharpen a variety of blunt/sharp weapons , and a minor understanding of how to properly wield them.]

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(A/N: A shorter chapter around ~3.2k words. I feel that this chapter has a few rushed elements, but it's also the chapter that opens up a lot for the future. It may seem nonsensical, but it's part of the process.

If you've enjoyed, wonderful.

If you haven't, you must be bored.

Until next time,

White_Dog