Winterfell
As the moon rose over Winterfell, Helena alongside Ser Barristan wandered the Castle's Outer Yards, in an attempt to find the forge. Ser Barristan did not know why Her Majesty has been wandering since the end of the feast, but didn't bother raising his voice as the Queen most probably wouldn't register it unless there was a sense of emergency in his voice, or one of the princelings drew near. The Queen's maternal sense was beyond even Ser Barristan's experienced perception, and she normally seemed to be wholly unaware of the people around her…
Finally, Helena found the forge, there was not a forge aflame, and it was about as large as the Forge at the Rear Encampment, but with considerably more amenities. Helena smiled, "Ser Barristan, could you fetch someone to help you grab the wood chest that I had brought along?"
Ser Barristan spoke but Helena had already pulled away, as she was grabbing handfuls of charcoal and loading the forge…
Ser Barristan stifled a chuckle as he shook his head, and made his way back into the warm ancient castle.
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Sullivan laid at the peak of a broken tower, a large opened revealing a wonder scene into the Wolfwood, Laenah at his side covered in layers of pelts and leathers, her Dornish Blood not taking well to the Northern Cold.
"I can't believe I agreed to this…" Laenah muttered a small smile upon her face as she gazed out into the night sky.
"It may not have been the proper course, but it would strengthen our bonds with the North. To show that our arrival won't empty their treasury and waste away their precious stores of food. Food that props up the Reach's economy, without the North to buy food the Reach will begin to fall behind in its race against Dorne and the Westerlands. If only the Riverlands could stay stable…" Sullivan heaved a heavy sigh as he briefly closed his eyes, "… would you like to make a wager?"
"No," Laenah quickly replied, "I've learned better than to play games of chance with you."
Sullivan smiled, as his gaze lingered on his betrothed for few moments, before his eyes drifted only to find a gentle radiance of light coming from somewhere below, before Sullivan's ears could hear the familiar sound of metal rhythmically hitting metal, "Good, I would have won."
Laenah huffed as she shifted in the pelts, before leaping out and pulling Sullivan into the covers, as she was not yet warm enough. The cold night air flowing through the breach in the tower did not easily welcome her Dornish Blood.
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Helena worked at pounding a damascus ingot into a thin sheet, as she pumped the bellows to keep the forge roaring, a stone wire die rested on a table not far from the anvil where she intended to turn this ingot into links for chain mail, and the intention to work through the night to complete as much as she can…
Her focus was devoured by her work, and the world around her bled away leaving only the dull glowing ingot, the hammer in her hand, and the forge in her mind for a long time.
As the sun began to rise, the castle awoke to an early morning hustle, and the blacksmith arrived at the forge to find a Kingsguard standing at its entrance, the sound of a hammer pounding metal echoing from within…
Inside, was the Queen working a ingit of odd colored steel, that seemed to be an imitation of Valyrian Steel… The closest imitation that they've ever seen, yet even from a distance it was clear to see that the Queen wasn't working with the legendary metal, but what had stolen away their focus was the sheer amount of half—linked chainmail surrounding the Queen…
Had she worked through the night…?
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While Helena was busy, Sullivan awoke to find Laenah straddling his body, planting gentle kisses upon his nape, her voice little more than a warm whisper that tickled his ears and sent a shiver down his spine, "Good morning, my love."
"Aye, a good morning indeed," Sullivan replied with a teasing smile as he wrapped his arms around his betrothed and flipped her onto her back. A laugh slipped from her lips as she hugged him tight, her legs encasing his waist as she buried her face into his nape, and with a light bite upon his ear lobe Sullivan lost a shuddering breath, as Laenah pulled back with a smug expression.
"We can't—"
"We can," Laenah quickly interrupted, "We are soon to be wed, even if I'm to be set with child, it wouldn't matter as most will assume it had happened upon our bedding. In Dorne, I would have already been with a child, yet you must test my patience… Any longer and I may have to 'attack' you…"
Sullivan stared down into her eyes for a long moment, before a breath slipped from his lips and his restraint shattered… Laenah gasped as she felt 'something' prod her below, a teasing smile forming upon her lips, "Here I thought, that it didn't work…"
Sullivan bellowed a loud laugh, his words lost to her giggles as Sullivan attacked, his fingers gently brushing against her sensitive causing the woman to squirm under his grasp, until Laenah eventually had enough and roughly dug her teeth into his shoulder…
Awakening a beast, Sullivan had never known he had contained…
It seems the apple doesn't fall far from the tree…
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Aria's eyes fluttered open, as she finally decided to rise from bed, as she needed to use the bathroom as nature began to call…
Getting used to the lack of flushable toilets, and overall decent hygiene had taken far longer than she'd ever admit, and the only solace was the fact that her Mother of this life seemed to take hygiene seriously. Even having gone as far as to create shampoo and body wash, instead of that horrid greasy bar of poorly scented lard that everyone else seems to use.
Scratching her head with a yawn, Aria adjusted the oversized tunic; one of Father's, across her frame as the last thing she wished for was for some poor fellow to be executed by Aria's overprotective Mother, because Aria hadn't noticed that the tunic had been caught in the waist of her undergarments…
After getting some help from a passing servant, Aria soon found the chamber pot, and quickly finished nature's duty before washing her hands and finding another servant to have a basin and warm water delivered to her room, before heading towards Brandon's chamber to wake him before he ended up sleeping all day; the slothful child he was…
After waking Brandon, Aria returned to her room to find a maid waiting patiently to help the young princess wash, though Aria swiftly waved the young woman away as despite being an adult; in a previous life, Aria wasn't fond of others seeing her naked especially now that she was in a child's body…
Which brought her mind to wishing that she'd grow faster…
Then to her Mother; or more specifically her Mother's figure, which led to Aria hoping that she was as blessed with beauty as her Mother… What woman didn't want to be Miss Amer— Well… Westeros…
As Aria sank into the water, she couldn't help but to thank whomever had brought her soul to this place for allowing her to be born a princess… Though, the terror of being married off could have been gone without in the early years of Aria's new life, upon learning how truly protective her Mother was…
Aria had very few worries in life, and with the unbearable pressure that had once filled her mind having greatly eased after the revelation that her Mother knew she had reincarnated, as well as the fact that Mother still loved with her despite such a revelation…
Which led to Aria wishing she had been some sort of scientist or engineer, simply so that she could bring some modern amenities; that Aria oh so missed, into the medieval world…
The best she could do was rely upon the unreliable information that had been crammed into her mind from watching videos, reading dubious wikis, and what little late night research she had done upon a random thought.
Perhaps she could create a musket with the help of Mother…?
Gunpowder was what…? Sulfur and…?
Aria hummed in thought, unaware that the water had long gone cold, not that it felt all that warm in the first place…
Wasn't bat guano used in black powder…?
Aria fell silent as she strained her mind in an attempt to recall something she didn't fully know, and eventually decided that it wasn't worth the effort…
Ah! Saltpeter!
It was once again worth the effort…
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Helena was sat in a chair, with two pairs of pliers and a length of chainmail laid upon her lap…
After nearly a whole day, Helena was almost finished with the middling layer of both Aria's new dress, and Brandon's set of clothes. It wouldn't be long before the both of them had enough armored clothes that they wouldn't need to go wholly unprotected, and while she had made some for them previously the quality of Helena's previous work was shoddy in comparison to what Helena held now, after no small amount of experimentation and experience…
However, Helena had begun to run low on her supply of Damascus Steel, and didn't have all the components to forge some more that carried the same standard. Which meant she had already begun to plan how to busy her days when she returned to the Red Keep, though that had brought upon an idea she had once before but stuffed away into the depths of her mind…
A manor in the Kingswood, as while Helena had grown tolerant of the stone prison that most call a castle, Helena found herself most comfortable outside of their stifling walls, and suffocating halls…
Her hands momentarily stilled as Brandon entered the forge, a pillow held tight against his chest as his eyes carried the weight of his slothfulness, with not an ounce of hesitation Brandon made his way to his mother, climbed into her lap and settled his face into the thick pillow he held at his front.
A toothy smile washed across Helena's face as she set whatever she had been working on aside, it having been completely washed from her mind as she adjusted herself in a manner to make sure that HER handsome little boy was comfortable as her fingers massaged his scalp, slowly putting the youth back to sleep…
Helena was content with herself, as Brandon lightly snored, and her head laid upon his shoulder as her arms wrapped around the youth. Intent on giving him all the comfort she was capable of…
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Catelyn tried to keep her brows from furrowing as she found the Princess, and the Bastard in the stables, the young girl sitting in the mud ruining her dress as a dirty mutt laid in her lap, though they hadn't noticed Catelyn's arrival and she listened to their conversation, "—can't imagine how difficult it is for you… Mother showers us with so much love and attention that It can be suffocating at times, so I can't imagine being starved of it all."
The bastard heaved a breath as his shoulders straightened as he watched the Princess let the beast in her lap nibble on her finger, before the Princess moved the beast from her lap standing up and pointlessly patting her dress as if it would knock the mud from its fabric, "I better go before Mother begins to wonder where I've run off to… If you need any help with anything, you can speak to my Mother. Ah, just don't bother her if she is in the forge, she gets cranky when her focus is broken. Okay! Bye!"
Just as the Princess ran off, her steps came to a halt as Catelyn met those piercing, cool blue eyes… The Princess frowned, before she cast a gaze towards the bastard, "Jon…"
"Hmm…?" The bastard's attention was pulled away from his pup, and he raised his gaze only for his face to place as he stopped Catelyn just beyond the Princess, "If you have any trouble… You'll tell me right?"
Jon stiffly nodded his head, as he gulped down the panicked bile that threatened to rise up his throat…
'How long had she been listening…?' Was the loudest question in his mind…
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Helena pulled the wooden pin from her hair, allowing her brunette locks to cascade down her shoulders as she stepped out of the forge, as Brandon clutched a pillow to his chest, a hand wrapped around her fingers. A gentle tune was hummed as Helena simply enjoyed the moment, as only Brandon seemed to enjoy Helena excessive love…
Both Aria, and Sullivan didn't wish for such things, and while they enjoyed their Mother's presence, Helena could see how they forced themselves sometimes…
Helena knew that her affections could be suffocating, as the worries she felt for her child drowned her every waking moment, of each passing day… Showering her children in affection was simply how she dealt with the stress of those worries; perhaps she was excessive, but how could she not when HER children are so amazing?! Sullivan could contend with a Kingsguard in honorable single combat, and while he couldn't outpace his opponents he could most definitely outlast them…
Aria was God—Blessed with beauty; she looked like her Mother after all, and seemed to have far more experience than her physical age let on…
Brandon…? Well, Brandon was downright adorable, not to mention his creative mind and ability to grasp things quickly to the point that even Theobald; the shitty maester that he was, could tell that HER boy was a genius, though slothful…
Even if they had none of those traits, they'd still be imperfectly perfect, as they were Helena's own children, and any who dared to say otherwise should be cursed to an unending existence in the Seven Hells…
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Robert grumbled as he sat with Ned in the Stark's Solar, a mug of northern clear ale in both their hands, "Bah, damnable bastards they all are, wishing to claim my daughter for wastrels they call sons! Can you believe this Ned?! I worry Helena would find out, then we'd have another war on our hands…"
Ned showed a wry smile, as he had much the same experience when it came to marriage proposals to his own daughters, though he counted his lucky stars as his Lady Wife is nowhere near as boldly violent as the Queen, "Perhaps it would be for the best…"
The Northman heaved a sigh, his words bringing pause to Robert's drunken antics, reminding the King of his original purpose in the North, "Hah! Truly?! EDDARD!"
Ned rubbed his temples as Robert shouted, understanding that the next few years would be most difficult, not only on himself but also his family…
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"You couldn't refuse him?!" Ned blankly stared at his Lady Wife as she fumed, a sigh slipped his lips which only worsened his expression.
"I could, but I didn't," Ned fell back onto his bed, "To be returned the Gift, to be able to produce our own food with no need to empty our treasuries every Winter in hopes of surviving through the long icy nights… How could I refuse, what kind of Lord would I be if I had refused?! Tell me Cate! What kind of Lord would I have been?!"
The Lady Wife fell silent, "They wish to take Jon—"
"Then you should be happy," Ned nearly snarled, having not been blind to how Jon has been treated, "The child you fear, will be far removed from the castle, where he can't claim the Title of Lord like you so fear…"
"Ned I—"
"Enough, I'm tired and wish to rest. For I have many years ahead of me, and I doubt my Lady Wife wishes for my final night at her side for many years to be one remembered by an argument…"
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As the sun rose the next day, Sullivan and Laenah could be found underneath the scarlet leaves of the Weirwood that dominated the Godswood. It's gnarled roots covered the whole area, growing from the dark leaf colored earth in a manner that left them looking akin to bones at first sight… The face that had been carved into its trunk wept blood colored sap, that was being harvested for the sacred act that was about to commence.
Off to the side Helena watched with tears in her eyes, and sniffled as she prepared herself for her eldest boy to be married off… To finally become a true grown man in the eyes of those present…
It hurt… but she was proud… As Sullivan had found someone to love, and someone who could return that love…
It was set to be a small affair, but it was one that would shake the whole kingdom. The Crown Prince was finally to be wed, in the eyes of many it was something that should have been done years ago and in a Sept of the Seven, not in the far reaches of the North under the watchful gaze of the Old Gods…
Not even Robert dared to interrupt his Queen's behavior, as he doubted he'd survive the aftermath… Truly, this woman frightened him, but that was what made their sex so amazing. What was life without a little taste of fear…? He still has the marks upon his groin to show that even when threatened by the maw of a beast, Robert wouldn't shrink!
The King was already looking forward to the next time Helena found his chambers, as he most definitely wouldn't go looking for the Queen's as his luck would have it that he'd find them on a day that would make a prophecy of the nightmare he had ages ago…
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"Mother is gone…" Sullivan looked out over the castle walls, his gaze locked onto distant lands…
Nobody had seen the Queen leave, all they knew was that she had disappeared in the night…
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(A/N: [30?? Words] No Status.
Anyways, Until Next Time,
White_Dog
)