An Odd Companion

Robert frowned as he watched those hips sway further and further away, it was truly disheartening to watch such an alluring beauty walk away, especially one that managed to touch upon his instincts for battle. That woman had truly felt dangerous, and not in the same manner as Tyrell's withered rose, or Dorne's poisonous beauties a plenty…

Unlike those women, Helena felt akin to a heavy blade… One meant for butchering, not the sharpened tongues of the Reach or the sweet fatal nectar of Dorne. Helena was a woman who Robert felt would rather wield a sharpened sword than a poisoned dagger, much like the love of his heart; Lyanna…

Oh, how much it pained him everytime he found himself with a woman warming his bed, only to find that significant lack of ferocity gnawing at the back of his mind… Despite never laying his betrothed, Robert KNEW Lyanna was a woman that took CHARGE in the bedchambers… Oh, how he wished to be freed from the stale monotony of faked moans, a pitch too high, and an experience that could be mistaken for a corpse if not for the warmth and faked moans…

Oh, how he wished this war took place in the North, at least the women there knew what a man like him enjoyed… He didn't wish to plow an unenergetic field that only wished for his seed to bloom, and worse one that didn't work for it… and gods be damned, if your going to fake it atleast get the faint tremblings right, or at least the curling of the toes… Don't just let out a garbled moan that's louder than the rest, thinking that it's fooling the Great Stag…

A long sigh tore through his lips, as perhaps the only woman in a hundred miles who could give him such an experience walked away, and he couldn't help but stare as she retreated into the trees. His eyes washed over to Ned, to find that his fellow brother was watching all the same…

To think she had managed to catch even this celibate wolf's eye…

With a heavy handed, yet playful punch Robert sent Ned stumbling to the side, and all it took was an exchanged look to understand…

It seems even Ned—

"No. I know that look, and it's not at all what you're thinking. I have my wife waiting in Winterfell, I'm not about to break my vows and sully my honor for a few moments of pleasure."

Robert chuckled as his hand fell upon his best friend's—brother's shoulder, "Soon, you will succumb to the intoxications of feminine warmth. Oh, Celibate Wolf… You will succumb like every other man…"

Robert's mind shifted towards how'd he'd find a woman worth the effort to warm his bed… Perhaps he'd find Helena wandering the wood by nightfall… Now wouldn't that be an experience…

Soon, Robert's mind began to conjure up a number of sayings that may find himself shedding that dress that veiled her body… Though, he'd definitely need to put in much more thought, that woman wasn't one that could be swooned by his muscles, titles, nor his feats…

Thus, he'll need to think outside of the common methods…

Perhaps… Mhm, that may very well work…

What woman doesn't wish to be drowned in spoils of war… It seems he'd need to slaughter the Reach army sooner than he initially planned, they must have quite the wealth spread amongst the nobles in their camps…

"Ned… Bring Lord Reed and Bolton to my tent tonight… We're going on a raid."

A smile spread across Robert's face, he had beat them back once… Now, he'll slaughter them…

Whether it be Lyanna, or Helena… Robert would lay himself a truly fierce woman, the Gods be damned.

That night, Robert had a dream of a brunette wielding a pair of scalding hot shears, the red hot metal hanging from its own weight, a crazed look in her eye and a fear unlike any other filled him before he awoke with a gasp… He'd pissed himself… Luckily, he hadn't managed to find a woman to warm his bed…

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Helena wasted no time, quickly she tossed her patchwork bundle onto her cart and took a wide arc around the small clearing where she had met the Rebel King and the Northman. Not at all interested in being pulled into another conversation with the contradicting duo, as she doubled back and returned the way she had traveled. Having decided to listen to the Northman's words and even going as far as entertaining the thought of making her way into the North, but that thought was quickly shut down as she had nothing to keep her warm amongst the snowy northern lands. Thus, her designation changed to the Westerlands…

As night fell, Helena unbraided her hair and changed into more masculine clothes, once again hiding her hair under a woolen cap and keeping a makeshift dagger close. Her axe never too far from her grasp, as she spent the time to build a small fire, one neither too large nor small, and like this a number of days had passed as the woodland began to thin, opening up to the plowed fields of a charred village… The very same that her Mother, and Father had called home…

As Helena once again took a sip from her waterskin to soothe the pained pleas of her stomach; as the woods hadn't been as bountiful these past few days, something that would only grow more difficult as the heavy foliage thinned opening up to the wide plains of the Riverlands…

Shaking the thoughts of food from her mind, Helena cast her gaze past the ruined village to the skyline beyond, if she remembered correctly the closest village would be nearly a week's distance away on foot, a journey that would be even longer since she was pulling a cart behind her with every step… At least now she wouldn't have to weave through the network tree of trees…

"Haa…" A long breath slipped from Helena's lips as she caught a raven streaking across the sky towards the woodland she left behind, only for a shadowed blur to launch from the trees and impact the raven mid flight bringing it tumbling to the ground. It seems the Trident River will soon run red with blood… and Helena wanted to be gone before it began with no wish to get swept up in the storm of war…

If Robert's boast were to be trusted, it meant that the Second Prince had been felled at his hands in Stoney Sept, which would be further southwest of where currently stood and with her intent to follow the Trident River past Riverrun she hoped that she'd be clear from the path of battles. As Helena couldn't fathom the idea that Robert would allow himself to retreat this far… That man was far too prideful, boisterous, arrogant… Helena couldn't see the man allowing himself to lose in a battle of drinks let alone one of steel, and with a cunning man like that Northman at his side Helena began to believe that they had a significant chance at winning the war…

With Dorne slighted by the First Prince at the Tourney in Harrenhal, and four of the Seven Kingdoms flying their banners behind the Baratheon Stag with the cavalry of the Vale, the 'savages' of the North, the fearless men of the Stormlands, and the archers of the Riverlands… Perhaps even the seemingly endless men of Dorne joining the rebellion, it seemed as if the Crown that could only be shaken by Dragons, was finding itself crumbling by a Stag…

Though, Helena would never say such a thing aloud unless she'd want her head taken from her shoulders… The last thing any lowborn should do is openly voice dissent…

With her thoughts filling her mind, and her even steps carrying her down the long dirt road that connected the ruined village to Riverrun and all the villages along the way, Helena quickly lost track of time, and the day cycled into night forcing Helena to hurry to find a place to rest. Having had the foresight to gather a fair amount of kindling, Helena wouldn't have to go a night without warmth as long as she rationed it carefully… The only struggle she'd have for the foreseeable future would be a source of sustenance, something she was desperately lacking if the loud protests of her stomach were anything to go by—

Momentarily closing her eyes and unfocusing the thoughts of her mind, bringing the closest thing to silence as she could, Helena cast her gaze to the stars above. Slowly, she began to count the seemingly impossible fragments of light until sleep eventually took her.

Yet, she could not find that sleep even as the moon drifted across the sky, and the sun cast a purplish orange hue through the sky the sounds of bird filled her ears a breath tore through her lips as she rose to a sitting position to watch the smoldering remains of the fire she had left unattended. After a short moment of contemplation, Helena took two handfuls of soil and smothered the smoldering ashes before finding her cart and all her items untouched, and silently continuing her journey with only her mind and those embracing fragments to accompany her…

On the sixth day since passing her parent's village, Helena took to swinging her axe during the nights she couldn't find sleep as they grew more frequent—

The axe moved through the air with an armaturish consistency, the blade was hardly aligned when swung from the sides, but when Helena moved to bring it into a downward strike the slash itself seemed to grow weighty, yet Helena was pulled by the movement and her feet shifted to keep her steady as she lurched forward. Helena didn't slow, her arms reared the axe back once in a thrust, momentarily recalling her Father's last moments and in an almost panicked movement turned with her axe falling from overhead, it took a moment longer for it to be raised compared to 'that' moment, and the axe seared through air once more in a weighty manner…

However her logical mind told her that it wouldn't have changed anything, there was another attack, there were more men… Helena's face scrunched as the taste of death filled her mouth, something she could recall from both her Mother's and Father's experience, a touch of iron smothered in regret, longing, sadness…

"Haa…" A long breath tore through Helena's throat clearing the taste from her tongue, and those thoughts from her mind. Before raising the axe once more, and swinging it all manner of ways in hopes of growing more familiar with its weight in her hand, to find a better position for her hand… There was nothing out there to hit, so she could only rely on the resistance of the wind to learn from, but that was doing little other than give Helena plenty of room for movement.

While the thought of arriving at a village in a few days was enough to energize Helena, she was dreading it much the same… What if she was conscripted the moment she stepped into the village, what if she was taken for a deserter, or a looter, what if it had been raised as well leaving only charred remains… Was she to walk in dressed as the woman she was…?

Helena's mind was swamped with thoughts, and the axe in her hands grew increasingly heavy with thought, it wasn't long before she found herself exhausted so she settled down to rest, with the moon just passing halfway through the sky Helena knew she had a short while before the sun began to rise.

It seemed as if the moment darkness washed through her mind, a slow rustling caught her ears and for the briefest moment it was forgotten, before Helena's mind churned awake… The taste of death filled her mouth once more, as her eyes snapped open to find a startled figure crouched above.

Forcibly, her Mother's final moment exploded within her mind with a recall that drowned Helena in a sense of desperation that washed away any hint of exhaustion and primed her body with a sensation of unending strength… Her hand snapped outward on a reflex she hadn't known she had; until a number of tavern fights reappeared within her mind, as her middle knuckle slammed into the apple of his throat forcing back with fearful gurgled chokes, a curse rang out followed by another however Helena didn't care to process the words, they felt foreign in her ears not as if speaking a different language just simply different—unfocused.

Helena's hand sought her axe in the dwindling flames light, the barest peak of sunlight on the horizon drawing the silhouettes of three figures; one was hunched over clutching his throat, while the other two wielded what looked to be bludgeons…

With axe in hand, Helena moved to her feet but one was already upon her with a downward swing of his club, barely her axe intercepted it but she didn't managed to catch the front kick he planted against her face sending her back onto her back and dazed, though a pained cry rang out as a warmth dripped from her axe onto her face, having managed to drag the bottom point of the blade against the inside of his leg drawing no small amount of blood and only further soiling her appearance as she swiped with her axe the edge unaligned and cleaving a jagged cut through the meat of his shoulder sending the man to his knees in pained sobs and begs for mercy.

Yet, his words were only met with the sound of a panicked sprint, as his fellow bolted off into the darkness leaving him to his death as the bloody figure looked over him just as the sun began to crest over the horizon casting that terrifying sight in a divine glow of the first light…

The sounds of his choking fellow, and the blood draining from his lips paired with the 'glowing' blood stained figure stood before him with a bloodied carpenter's axe. That axe rose, and he lowered his head in hopes of a clean cut… He knew the moment he gazed into those cold blue eyes reflecting the first light of day, the Stranger had already arrived.

His hopes were pointless, as Helena's axe fell upon the back of his skull splitting it open for the grey mush and blood to leak into the soil, before packing her things and leaving the other to choke in his own blood.

Grandfather always said, 'Every bandit that you kill saves two lives… Your's and the next person they find.'

Just before she grabbed her cart to leave, Helena stopped for a long moment her gaze casting towards the two corpses, and her eyes burned with conflicting thoughts before her feet carried her before the who's skull she had split and began to peel the bloodied clothes from his body, deciding to check for any coin later. Before doing much the same to the other fellow, who had passed in the meantime.

Tossing the pile of bloodied clothes into the cart, Helena pulled it along towards the river, intent on washing the blood from the cloth before it stains and check her spoils. After finding a divot in the shore that left a shallow, relatively calm section of water Helena took the time to strip her clothes from her frame remembering to take the bloodied clothes from the cart along the way.

Using a woven basket and a tightly wound bundle of moss, soaked in a blend of floral saps, Helena started to cleanse the blood from the clothes to the best of her ability. Managing to work out most of the blood before it stained, though it gave most of the clothes a dull scarlet hue that couldn't hardly be made out from the dark cloth they were made from…

As Helena laid the clothes out to dry in the cart, making her rounds in the nude, she moved to sink her frame into the cool water.

With the odd satisfaction that came with a clean, pleasant smelling body, Helena took the time to dry her hair before dressing as a man once more and continuing along her way. Knowing she'd most likely reach the village by midday on the third day of travel… Perhaps arrive before sundown if she moved through the night…

Though, as Helena's thoughts began to drift, her Mother's final moments resurfaced, and an expression of pure, unbridled disgust morphed Helena's face into something unsightly… The look in her eyes carried an unidentifiable weight blended with a sense of something weighty that seemed calm—Yet, the coldness of her blue gaze as she peered off into the horizon betrayed something else.

Helena's eyes seemed to settle more narrow and angular, from their normally wide and 'innocent' state. If she could see herself in this moment, Helena would remember that distant gaze her Grandmother would occasionally cast to the west… Though her's was lacking the unbridled disgust that smeared Helena's face into something unsightly…

Deciding to settle early, Helena pulled her cart of the road closer towards the Trident River and began to set up camp. Pulling a whetstone from a bundle, and gently wetting it with her waterskin, Helena began the long process of caring for a blade, starting with wiping the blood from its surface then shaping the edge once more.

A long pass for each side of the blade, until Helena felt that she had reduced any nicks in the blade into inconsequential marks in the iron, whilst also making sure that she had been centering the edge. Though, as she was nearing the end of her maintenance session, her focus was pulled to the side as a familiar tune was whistled some distance away. It seems that her decision to set up camp early has allowed another traveler to close the distance between them…

The clinking of metal chains accompanied the whistling as the gray robed figure came into view, the figure had a head full of gray hair, his aged showing through the creases of his skin that pulled and stretched as he flashed Helena a wide smile, his voice aged and coarse, "Do you mind if I join you for the night?"

A wandering maester if she had to guess, though no less dangerous than bandits… The number of stories Grandmother had told Father about expelled Maester's roaming the roads, and experimenting on the small folk had instilled a wariness into Helena as she gave a shallow nod, the wandering maester didn't wait and quickly plopped down in front of the fire his hands reaching out as if to grasp the warmth to soothe his faintly trembling hands.

An awakened silence befell the space between the two, as Helena set the whetstone aside and allowed her axe to rest in her lap as she took a square of leather to knock off the remaining metallic burrs or slivers that clung to the metal. Though, she immediately stiffened as the wandering maester spoke, "What's a woman wandering the wartorn Riverlands for…?"

His gaze never shifted from the flames, but a chuckle slipped from his throat, "I'm sorry to startle you, but you didn't truly believe such a pitiful disguise would fool a maester… We pride ourselves upon our knowledge, and even a blind maester would be able to tell the truth of your gender."

Helena simply stared, watching the Maester as he warmed his hands next to the fire, his voice continued to spill from his lips, "Are you seeking a home, a love, or a coin?"

Helena settled her hands across her lap, her eyes never straying from the maester, "I'm looking to avoid the war…"

Her voice was rough the near week of being unused.

The maester gave an amused, yet stifled laugh, a playful glint in his eyes as they washed over towards Helena, "Yet, you carry the eyes of a soldier, the hands of a seamstress, the forgotten voice of an Yitish monk and a heart tempered enough to consider cutting down a harmless, old man with an axe at the slightest sign of ill will…"

He shook his head, his amusement washing across his face, "I've not seen many women who have tempered their heart to such a degree… You're truly prepared to cleave that blade through my skull, and strip my body naked as you had the fools that had stumbled upon you before—"

A smile spread across his face as Helena's hand tightened around the hilt of her axe, "Truly, it's astonishing how easy you are to read. It shows how green you are to such a tempered heart, such a cold gaze… This war has changed you, I can see it in your gaze… It's unbelievably complex… I have studied the minds of many, but your gaze eludes me…"

"Ah! Where are my manners?! I apologize, I truly do… I am Theobald Flowers, a humble Maester who has long lost his way, and who might you be…?"

In an instant, Helena's find fell into an unfamiliar focus, and seeing her state the Theobald spoke once more, "I truly mean you no harm… I am at the end of my life, and don't wish to find myself in the stranger's grasp before my time has come. My days of carving open corpses to see what lies inside has long passed, don't you fret deary… I have learned all that I could through malpractice, and no longer wish to continue my attempts at subverting the natural course of life. I have found that such actions are futile without the blessing of the divine… Only the Yitish Monk of old have found a way to live beyond their feeble mortal lifespan without a drastic sacrifice, and even then it couldn't be called life… More akin to an eternal sleep, with only a single chance to awake and spread their wisdom…. Haa, truly such a shame, imagine what a truly motivated Maester could learn with an endless number of years to peruse the seemingly endless book and carvings that fill the libraries of the world…

Even Pycelle at his ridiculous age nor Aemon at his seemingly impossible age, would have never been able to truly read every book in the citadel, let alone the expansive libraries of the Red Keep, not to mention the other major gatherings of knowledge spread across the Seven Kingdoms… Then, once I look beyond these Kingdoms and the wider world beyond, it becomes clear… Knowledge must be shared, accumulated through lessons to those younger, in hopes that they live long enough to gather more of that knowledge and pass it on to the next generation… Until even an energetic child could begin to comprehend the mysteries of the world… How wondrous would that be—Ah… It seems I've rambled off, my apologies…"

"Do you have any weapons?"

The maester blinked at such a question… "No, I don't—"

"Then you don't mind if I check you for any that may be hidden amongst your robes?"

Theobald huffed, truly interested in how this woman dealt with the complicated situation he had weaved, "I'll have you know, I swore to celibacy in the Bone Mountains of Yiti! You may be a fine young woman, but I won't break my Vows to those psychotic monks!"

Helena's brows furrowed, offput by the sheer weirdness of the maester… Why did he have to make it so damn awkward?!

"Oho?! I take it from your confusion that you don't know the meaning of Celibacy—"

"Silence," Helena flatly interrupted the Maester as her axe fell level with his face, "I don't care for your games."

Theobald slowly eased into a forced smile as he settled, "Alright…"

Helena gave a stiff nod, her axe falling yet remaining poised as she moved forward, turning her wrist so she could settle the axe level with his throat, her mind conscious of the hidden shortened—sickle she had hidden at her back. As she carefully began to pat away at the man's robes, finding only soft flesh beneath cloth with every touch and as her hand brushed against the links of varying metal she found them sewn into the robes itself, while the satchel was little more than twine encasing a weighty book of thick leather…

As Helena backed off, Theobald's smile bloomed as he wiggled in his seat amongst the trampled grass, while Helena rested up against the side of her cart some distance from the flames. Tonight she wouldn't count the stars, and she would leave camp before the moon began to touch upon the horizon… Long enough to rest her legs, so she can hopefully gain a day ahead of this odd maester… Perhaps it would be better to push through the next night as well, just to guarantee that she'd be able to keep a decent pace without tiring herself nor finding the old man showing up at her camp once again…

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(A/NStats -

Main Level: 16

Strength: 6 [|||||||||||||———] -

• Basic Knowledge [Leverage]

Agility: 5 [||||||||———— ] -

• Basic Knowledge [Breathing]

Vitality: 5 [||||||||||———] -

• Minor Uncommon Illness Resistance

Combat -

Defense: 2 [||||————-] +

Warfare: 0 [||—————] +

Axe: 1 [||||||||————] +

Bow: 0 [——————] +

Hammer/Mace: 0 [||||||————] +

Spear: 0 [||||||||||———--] +

Sword: 0 [||||||||———— ] +

Unarmed: 4 [||||||————] +

Skills -

Alchemy: 0 [—————] +

Blacksmithing: 5 [||————--] +

• Basic Knowledge [Iron]

Bowery: 0 [——————-] +

Carpentry: 1 [|||||||||————] +

Drinking: 3 [||||||||||||||||||||— ] +

Herbalism: 3 [|||||||||||———] +

Horsemanship: 0 [—————] +

Houndmaster: 0 [—————] +

Hunting: 0 [——————] +

Lockpicking: 0 [——————] +

Maintenance: 7 [|||||||||||||——] -

• Basic Knowledge [Tools]

Pickpocketing: 0 [—————] +

Reading: 2 [|||||————] +

Tailoring: 5 [|—————] -

• Basic Knowledge [Linen]

Stealth: 0 [—————-] +

Total Level: 49

[Basic Knowledge (Leverage): You possess a basic understanding of how to leverage the weight of something you carry/wield, and a minor understanding of how to leverage your own weight.]

[Basic Knowledge (Breathing): You possess a basic understanding of how to maintain your breath, thus minorly preserving your stamina.]

[Minor Uncommon Illness Resistance: Your body possesses a basic preparation for uncommon illnesses, and a moderate resistance to common illnesses.]

[Basic Knowledge (Iron): You possess a basic understanding of metallurgy when pertaining to Iron, a minor understanding of metallurgy when pertaining to Steel, Bronze, Tin, Copper.]

[Basic Knowledge (Tools): You possess a basic understanding of how to maintain/sharpen a variety of farming/smithing/hunting tools, and a minor understanding of how to properly wield them.

[Basic Knowledge (Linen): You possess a basic understanding of how to tailor/repair when pertaining to linen, and a minor understanding of how to tailor/repair when pertaining to leather, wool, cotton, and silk

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(A/N - You know the Status above? You can skip that if you don't enjoy 'Systems', it doesn't really effect the overarching story, and most perks are going to fall into the line of 'Steady Hands', 'Blade Alignment', 'Tracking', and whatnot… It won't be 'gamifying' perks…

[Steady Hands: You feel more confident in the strength of your fingers, and the control of your wrists.]

^ Would probably be one of the worst ones.

Ah, I'm pretty sure I forgot a skill in the last chapter and can't remember if I had edited it… If I hadn't this is to let you all know if I did… Well, this stays anyways.

Simple right?

Talking about perks, they were revealed weren't they…?

~ 4k words, the last was ~3.9k.

Anyways, Until Next Time

- White_Dog