A Change of Pace
Helena rubbed her eyes as she set aside her needle and thread, before taking a moment to inspect her handiwork. Finding a few seams that would need to be redone, and a few that would need a gentle touch to realign, and while the sizes weren't perfectly capable of flowing against her frame; due to the lack of a mannequin and in-depth measurements of her body, Helena kept the clothes loose enough whilst also adding a feminine touch.
Rising to her feet with a satisfying stretch that forced her to let out a groaning moan as a few pops rang out through her body, Helena pulled the leather binding from her hair allowing it to cascade down her bare shoulders. Having decided to bask in the relative privacy of her room with not a hint of cloth to veil the modesty of her upper body.
With the day having initially been marked as her free day, where she wouldn't have any duties, Helena was intent on wearing a dress and lounging throughout the day, fully intent on riding on the coattails of the rumors implying that she was Lord Tully's bastard daughter. Until the man either refused such a notion, or was forced to go along with the rumors. While Helena was curious how Lord Tully would react, she was more intent on simply making his life more difficult.
Despite the weight of the loss, Helena found a benefit to her Grandfather's passing, and that was the fact that she could now wear her Grandmother's prized dresses without worry that her Grandfather would recognize them…
Thus, Helena fetched her Grandmother's most exquisite dress, an article of fabric that one would only expect to see on nobility. It was made from a soft, expensive looking cotton that had been dyed a gentle beige, with a black dyed silk that hugged the neck and left a window to her chest allowing her cleavage to show with a silk inner layer dyed in the same color that ran down the center of the dress creating a divide between the two 'sheets' of beige cotton.
A gold—like stained string of wool rested amongst the chest, allowing the window that revealed her cleavage to be tied closed when the back of the dress was loosened by a string of wool with the same color, akin to a corset.
Crushing a few red tinted berries between her fingers, Helena dabbed their staining juices upon her lips deepening their rosy tint before dipping a fine brush fashioned from the dead—ends she had painstakingly trimmed from her hair into a dark mixture of powdered charcoal and oil, tracing the line of her eyes and adding a faint shadow to her eyelids before gently washing it in a tankard of water. Taking her comb, Helena began to smooth out her wavy hair, before splitting it into upper half and lower half, and tying the upper half back into a bun that rested as close to center on the back of her head as she could by herself in a polished bronze mirror.
With the rest of her time spent scrutinizing her appearance to smooth out any creases in her dress, or to tame/pluck any unruly hairs. Helena soon found herself content with her appearance, and made her way out into the streets of the Village revealing herself to the Rear Encampment in the full glory of her feminine ways…
Soon, Helena found a bench amongst the Village square, and settled down to watch as the porters, laborers, and soldiers went about their day. Sometimes she would grace those she knew with a gentle wave as their gaze drifted her way, while ignoring those whose heated stares were far too heavy. Though, soon her gentle smile would be replaced by one fashioned from contempt as Theobald showed his wrinkled brow glistening with sweat under the heat of midday.
He made it abundantly clear that he had come for her, as he weaved through the sparse crowd and stood before her casting his shadow over her frame, his aged voice flowing from his lips, "What are you doing?"
Helena tilted her head in mock confusion, her voice soft yet carrying a depth that brought upon a sense of maturity that blended far too well with her pleasant tones, "Whatever do you mean Maester…? I am enjoying the heat of the sun bestowed upon us by the gods, the gentle and calming wind that carries the scent of the hard work all the men have put into this Village, watching the men who work so hard to ensure that those risking their lives in the frontline have the supplies they need… Have I done something that has offended you…? Should I lower myself to my knees, and grovel for forgiveness…? Though, I don't know how those watching would react to such a scene, and I don't wish to dirty such an exquisite dress…"
"You speak of dangerous things—"
"Yet, I play a dangerous game. One that you've forced upon me, how else am I to survive if I remain meek and hide my true self? You've opened my eyes maester… If I wish for anything, I must have the influence to grasp it with my own hands, the strength to keep it within my grasp, and the intelligence to learn who wishes to take it from me… Truly, I thank you for waking me up to the cruelty of reality, without such a profound lesson I would probably have found myself crushed under the weight of my ignorance."
Helena gave a faint smile, one dripping with falsification that didn't seep into her voice, "Is there something you wish to speak with me about…? I highly doubt you've come all this way, putting aside your work healing the injured, simply to stare in awe at my beauty…"
Theobald's frown deepened, but found himself without the words he wished to speak, the woman before him had kept him on the back foot since the start of the conversation, and the moment he saw a moment to grasp the advantage she interrupted him keeping with her momentum. Truly, this woman was dangerous, her tongue held barbs he didn't dare retort… What was he to do…? Scold her?
Bah, that'd only turn the camp against him as those who found themselves fawning over her beauty wouldn't think twice to spread ill rumors of an old maester. However, if he did nothing, he'd only give more fuel to the rumors currently surrounding her…
Helena had used him to further her own intentions, Theobald couldn't help but internally applaud the woman before him. Yet, a smile grew upon his face as he played his most powerful card, "I've come to inform you that your lessons will soon begin. No longer will you have to work the forge, or participate in the training with the soldiers. Starting tomorrow, you will join me in Lord Tully's temporary estate to begin your ascent to Ladyhood." Theobald's cackled internally, curious how Helena would adapt… Uncaring of the issues his words would cause for Lord Tully, he had a 'King' to please… A mere lord, was naught before the crown…
Slowly, his thoughts began to churn, and his smile widened… Perhaps this was for the best, if Lyanna couldn't survive the Dragon Prince, a highborn bastard from the Riverlands would suit just fine, especially one that Robert sought for himself… Robert's prestige would take a beating, but when hasn't it…? With the North intent on tying themselves to the Riverlands through marriage, then the Riverlands being tied to the crown through the woman before him, would mean that the North, The Vale, and the Crown were tied by blood and brotherhood… It helped that the woman carried the features of House Tully… While the Lannister's would be displeased, heirs and spares could always be married in the future to secure the other Seven Kingdoms, and with Robert's sexual prolifically Theobald had no doubt he wouldn't stop at only one child… Perhaps he could even force the issue, and turn the rumors into truth, though a falsified one…
He could advise Robert to seek a marriage between Renly and Cersei—
Yet, her smile only grew, as his words were spoken loud enough to catch a few ears in the surroundings, and the maester was lost in thought, "Is that all Maester Theobald…?"
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Theobald scrawled ink across a sheet of parchment, placing his thoughts to paper as Helena filled his mind, the woman was a curiosity that he felt compelled to understand. There was a depth to her gaze that a child; in comparison, shouldn't have…
It wasn't a depth gained through preserving through rough times, nor through cleaving a way through a river of blood… It was more akin to those damned monks that lived along the peaks of the Bone Mountains, a sense of wisdom that wasn't of the world but of self…
How a youth at her age managed to find such a level of introspection that it reflects in her eyes was stunning enough, let alone the sheer strength of her mind. To not crumple under the pressure he had been pressing her with, but to attempt to turn the table in her favor and even have some sense of victory in doing so had already risen Helena to a higher standard in Theobald's mind. Lifting the inkwell, Theobald soaked the paper forever hiding his thoughts in the darkness as he rose from his seat to seek one of his many book, running his finger through their spines it eventually came to a rest as he felt that familiar roughness, picking it from the shelf Theobald returned to his seat and opened it up to its first page—
[A Shallow Understanding of the Illusions of the Mind]
A compilation of his life's work, and it was yet to complete… Slowly, Theobald flipped through the pages, his eyes dashing across a various number of passages until his fingers settled and his gaze lingered upon his most recent addition—
[I have come to learn that the Mind is not to be understood, its complexities are beyond the current feasible comprehension. Perhaps generations long after my time would be capable of even beginning to truly understand the intricacies of Human Thought, Emotion, and Mind. As has been mentioned before, I have managed to correlate specific sections of the mind to certain aspects of its process, and that was indeed learned through monstrous methods. So that those that come after wouldn't need to dirty their hands—]
Yet, Theobald found it difficult to continue, to finally finish the accumulation of his life's work… As, once he finishes it he would need to begin his journey back to the Citadel, where he would accept the punishment for the atrocities he had committed to compile the work in his hands.
A long breath tore through his throat as he leaned back in his seat, with his gaze locked onto the ceiling, Theobald entertained the thought of molding Helena into his apprentice. She most definitely had the strength of mind, and the brilliance to be able to keep up with his genius…
Though, he worried that was exactly what Helena sought… Theobald didn't wish to further increase the danger she represented, but could he truly turn away such a brilliant apprentice…? He would be dead soon even if he didn't, any actions she took wouldn't affect his corpse when the time came, and it wasn't as if his already devastated reputation would be capable of being lowered any further once his life's work was revealed…
Thus, leaving Theobald's only worry…
Could he leave such a fascinatingly troublesome woman to Robert…? The very same boy whom he had pulled into life, who was on the path to take the crown through blood, could he trust that willful youth to manage such a woman…?
Bah, he'll figure it out after I'm dead.
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Helena learned how truly long the day is when there is naught to busy yourself with, as she didn't want to stain one her Grandfather's prized dresses, and unintentionally found herself within a small crowded garden tucked away within relative safety of a shallow encirclement of five large buildings…
Nettles crowded the walls of the buildings in this small yet open space, uneven lines leading back out to the more developed roads through the moderate sized Village—Rear Encampment, bright sunflowers stood tall while dandelions gently swayed amongst patches of mint and a blend of thistle and marigold.
Each time her eyes gently passed through she found something different, and for some time Helena took to occupying her torrent of a mind on watching the petals sway in the winds that flowed through the gaps of the buildings. She walked the edge of the seemingly unnaturally natural garden, catching a few leaves of recognizable edible roots and bulbs as well as a small number of mushrooms growing along the few split logs that were sparsely strewn throughout. Settling the thought to return to this place to harvest some of this bounty another time, Helena drifted away from the garden, her thoughts once again becoming a torrent…
One which brought her back to her room, then out to the forge in one of the resized outfits, where she beat her thoughts into heated steel… It wasn't her first time working with such metal, such as the arrowheads she 'pilfered' from her Father's village that she had turned into bandage pins, or the occasionally steel sword she maintained within the camp. Though, now she would be working it into something larger, more difficult than mere pins… If this worked as she wished, and she didn't 'waste' what little steel she had, Helena would need to source wood and continue to polish her whittling skills and what she knew of woodworking to make it believable…
Slowly her thoughts fell into a focus, as once again her surroundings fell into distant thoughts and her hammer fell.
The sun fell and brought darkness upon the sky revealing the distant pinpricks of light swarming the sky scape, it was a cloudless night and the moon was bright yet Helena could be found at the forge focused in the torchlight and dim glow of the smoldering forge as she worked at a whetstone, the occasional glint of steel could be spotted through her meticulous grasp, as she slowly shaved the small blade down to a skin crawling edge.
A straight edged blade affixed to a slightly—shorter—than equal length tang with two thin holes knocked out of the tempered metal. The blade was only a fingertips distance from the spine and ended with a faintly thicker drop point, a blade meant to be concealed yet capable of what Helena wished for… It could be used as a weapon, but it carried the purpose of survival, her survival no matter where she may be…
Gently wiping the blade with a square of thick leather, Helena looked down upon the blade under the torchlight catching faint texture laid upon the blade, her brows furrowed as she scrutinizing the blade further, initially assuming they were thin cracks upon the metal's surface yet she was confused to find that they were not…
Unknowingly creating a damascus from scraps of steel Helena had gathered… Not that Helena was any the wiser…
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A knock resounded upon Helena's door forcing her into cautious wariness, as rarely her door had been knocked upon, as she normally either woke early enough to have already begun her duties or experienced a sleepless night. Quickly arranging the large tunic over her frame to secure her modesty, Helena moved to open the door fingers width using her foot as a stop.
Only to find the wrinkled brow of Theobald, and his increasingly annoying smile, "Good morning my apprentice, hurry and get ready, your lessons will begin at the Hour of the Nightingale from today henceforth. I expect you to be waiting at the doors of Lord Tully's estate by the time I go to seek you, as I have long grown old and will soon expire."
Helena stared at the Maester for a long moment before closing the door and letting out a long breath, knowing she wouldn't have the time to fetch water Helena grabbed a mix of resized clothes and changed before stepping through the door finding Theobald's scrawling into a old weathered book, as he heard the door close he began to plug his miniature inkwell, and stash his quill away into a sheath. "Very good, and you have much to learn, and the fact that you can understand the importance of time saves you much of said time…"
Thus, Theobald began to devolve into an endless chatter of untold amounts of random information, having tied together a one sided conversation of chaotic infodumping of mostly differing topics jumping from one thing to another, somehow doing so with sounded akin to a chatty raven regurgitating all the words it had heard…
It was an incredibly long day, and one that left Helena exhausted, her mind incapable of absorbing all the information that had been crammed within, her eyes were strained from all the reading and her head hurt from attempting to retain all the information held within a terrible heat building within…
Though with sleep it all faded, and Helena awoke refreshed.
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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: 7 [|||————-——] -
• Basic Knowledge [Stance]
Skills -
Alchemy: 0 [———————] +
Blacksmithing: 8 [———————] -
• Basic Knowledge [Iron]
• Special Basic Knowledge [Damascus]
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: 3 [———————] +
Tailoring: 8 [———————-] -
• Basic Knowledge [Linen]
Stealth: 3 [||||——————] +
Total Level: 62
[Special Basic Knowledge (Damascus): Whether through ignorance, or luck you have come to gain a minor understanding of how Damascus is created, an understanding gained through hindsight, yet uncertain.]
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(A/N: [~28?? Words])