The Recruit

My story starts long ago. I do not know when or where I was born, but I know I was raised by a mute woman. We lived in a wooded area on the outskirts of a small village. The woman taught me how to defend myself as I grew older. People in the village taught me how to speak as I conducted business with them. The woman often sent me to the village to sell the rare plants that grew around our home. With the money, I purchased food and cloth to bring home. The woman would then teach me how to make my own clothing.

When I was in my mid-teens, according to the woman, she started teaching me how to make trousers. I was confused. Why was she having me make men's clothing for myself. She then started to train me how to fight with a sword. I did not know she was doing this when we started play fighting with sticks. I got pretty good. Then one day she decided to cut my chestnut hair short, and bound my chest. I tried to understand what the purpose was. Why make me look like a boy? I soon found out when I heard about the leading family of the village recruiting men for the local army.

I cried so much the day I joined. I did not want to leave the home I knew my whole life. I did not even have a name. I had always been called 'girl' or 'boy'. How was I going to converse with people when they have nothing to really call me? The woman pushed me out the door with tears streaming down her cheeks. At that moment, I knew she would not have sent me to join the local army if she did not think it was best for me.

I had to earn every man's respect, especially once they found out I was actually a woman. I had to fight off a couple grabby hands, but it was nothing I could not handle. I spent years with these men. I trained with them. They called me 'woman', and started talking about me to newcomers as 'The Woman With No Name'. It was all in good fun. I did not mind it. We were sent out to fight in a few battles and many men were lost. Many of my friends died for reasons I hoped were good and just. Eventually my heart hardened enough to not make new friendships. Now 'The Woman With No Name' became a feared entity. I poured all of my anger and heartache into my fighting. My demeanor was off-putting to any new recruits. I was then put in charge of training the newcomers. I have helped many a man learn how to fight and respect the women around them.

After a certain battle I felt was unjust, I asked the head family to be discharged. They tried to refuse, but I told them that I would leave anyway. They did not wish to lose me, but they did not wish to have me on their bad side. I became a mercenary. The only difference between me and the other mercenary men for hire was my ethical duty to myself. I would set up a meeting with the person hiring me. I would decide if their cause was just, and if so I would help them. I would refuse if I felt the cause was unjust, and I have disappointed many a man that way. But, I do not care what they think.

Now, I am in my late twenties or early thirties, if the woman who raised me is to be believed. I currently sit in the same tavern Inn as Catelyn Stark. She's trying to hide her identity, but I know her very well. Her father has hired me many times. My focus on Lady Stark is broken when the tavern door is opened and few men walk in, including a short man from a family whom has tried to hire me many times. I roll my eyes and smirk as Tyrion Lannister walks in and asks for a room. The innkeeper tells the small man that all the rooms are full. The Lannister man then offers a man gold for his room, which is accepted. The dwarf walks farther into the tavern and spots Lady Stark.

"Lady Stark!" He says loudly. "What an unexpected pleasure." She looks at the small man as he continues. "I was sorry to have missed you at Winterfell." Many of the patrons and the Innkeeper start making a fuss over Lady Stark being here. She stands from her table and removes the cloth draped atop her head so everyone can see her now.

"I was still Catelyn Tully the last time I stayed here." She speaks. There is a pause before she continues. "You, ser," She says to a man across the room from her. "Is that the Black Bat of Harrenhal I see embroidered on your coat?" She asks him as she walks to the center of the floor. The man stands up proudly.

"It is, my lady." He confirms.

"And is Lady Whent a true and honest friend to my father, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun?" She asks him.

"She is." The man answers simply. She then switches her attention to another man in the room.

"The Red Stallion was always a welcome sight at Riverrun." She states. A man stands up as she continues. "My father counts Jonas Bracken amongst his oldest and most loyal bannermen."

"Our lord is honored by his trust." The man speaks.

"I envy your father all his fine friends, Lady Stark." Tyrion says. "But, I don't quite see the purpose of this." My smirk grows. I know exactly what she is doing. Tyrion must have done something awful to cause Lady Stark to risk war with the Lannisters. She then turns to another man behind her to her left.

"I know your sigil as well," She walks over to the man as he stands from his table. "The Twin Towers of Frey. How fares your lord, ser?"

"Lord Walder is well, my lady." The man starts. "He asked your father for the honor of his presence on his 90th nameday. He plans to take another wife." I hear Tyrion scoff at the mans words. Then, Lady Stark turns to me.

"It is fortuitous that I have run into 'The Mercinary Woman With No Name' on this day." She speaks. I slowly stand from my seat as I hear many gasps from the room. "I know you have no sigil, but you have helped my father and family many a time."

"It was an honor to do so, my lady." I answer. She then turns back to the tiny man in the middle of the room.

"This man," She says as she points to Tyrion. "Came into my house as a guest, and there conspired to murder my son." My face scrunches up. I have known Tyrion since the first time his family tried to hire me. He is a vile being, but I don't believe murder is his preferred sin. "A boy of 10. In the name of King Robert and the good lords you serve, I call upon you to seize him and help me return him to Winterfell to await the King's justice." Many men draw their swords and point them at the small man. I stare at Tyrion, trying to find the murderous intent in his eyes. To be quite honest, Tyrion is the only Lannister I even remotely like. Don't think me a fool. I trust no Lannister, but Tyrion's sins are not those of his father or siblings.

One of the men throws a burlap sack over the short man's head and binds his wrists with rope. They take his fur cape as they lead him outside. Catelyn turns to me and sees my sword still on my belt.

"I am truly sorry to put you on the spot, but I feel as if I will need your help in this." She tells me as she comes closer. "We will be bringing him to my sister."

"I know he is a Lannister, and you are a Stark, but I need more proof to convict a man of murder." I inform her. "You know this, my lady."

"I do." She says. "The dagger used by the man sent to kill my son was proven to be that of Tyrion Lannister's." She tells me. I chuckle slightly. She looks to me in shock.

"However incriminating that sounds," I start. "It means nothing. With all due respect, my lady, why would he give his own dagger to the man whom would commit the crime? It would draw the attention straight to him. It makes no sense to me, Lady Stark."

"At least come with me." She implores. "I'll find a way to prove it to you for sure." I look into the woman's eyes. She truly believes Tyrion did this. Either way, the truth must be found.

"I will accompany you, but I will not choose sides until I am sure of his guilt or innocence." A smile breaks across Lady Stark's face.

"Thank you." She then looks to the door. "Go get your armor and meet us by the stables." She says.

"You must have forgotten, my lady, fore it was long ago." She looks at me in question. "I do not wear armor. All I need is my sword, shield, and horse." She looks a bit shocked by my words, making me smile. "Armor will just slow me down. I'm light on my feet, and I have had no need for a chest plate yet." I bow my head to her and walk past her, out the door, and to the stables. The men have already secured Tyrion on his horse. "Well, well, well, Tiny Man, what have you gotten yourself into now?" I say loud enough for him to hear. He chuckles before responding.

"I guess I've conspired to murder a Stark, Trixie." That's what he always calls me. I guess it's a derogatory term for a single woman of my age range, but it's the closest I have to an actual name.

"Perhaps, but the truth will be found if I have anything to do with it." I say as I hop up on my horse. His chestnut color matches my hair, which I keep short for strategic purposes. "I can tell you that for sure." I say with a smile.

"Oooo! I feel so secure now." He replies with sarcasm.

"You should." I speak. "I'm the only person in this group that feels you have even a slight chance of being innocent of this." I finish in all seriousness as Lady Stark arrives at the stable. Once she is on her horse I grab the reigns of Tyrion's, and our journey begins.