[Chapter Size: 3900 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Pemford, 300 AC.
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"We're leaving."
"What do you mean, you're leaving?"
"Orders from King's Landing and the Hand of the King. We're departing immediately." The voice sounded firm, leaving the man standing before him, who was hearing this, staring incredulously at the other army commander.
"We're about to reach the Terrick region. How can you just leave? And what about our agreement?"
"Things have changed, Frey. I have a letter in my hand from the very man who negotiated with your grandfather. Don't act like a fool. I'm taking our army to join the forces coming from King's Landing..." Addam Marbrand said forcefully as he looked at Hosteen Frey, who was in command of that side of the army and was now frustrated.
This wasn't what they had already agreed upon. They were supposed to head north and try to break the siege Arctic was laying to the Twins.
"If you don't believe me, read it yourself. We're carrying out a military maneuver to reinforce the Westerlands," Addam Marbrand replied as he placed the letter on the table.
Hosteen Frey picked it up and began reading.
[Withdraw all Westerlands soldiers from the Riverlands and bring them south to gather with the army. Everything indicates that they are going to attack the Westerlands. We are moving a large portion of the army, while another will remain stationed in King's Landing, but we need your men as well.
The Freys can very well control the Riverlands at present, and the Arcticans only began a campaign against the Twins because they wanted to draw attention before simply leaving. Their true target is the Westerlands, and they do not want us to have this mobilized army coming directly from the Riverlands, which is why they are luring you north, because traveling by ship is faster.
I am giving command of these Riverlands to the Freys; they must take care of the rest. Bring your men to join the Army of the West in the south.
Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King.]
The words were quite direct, while Hosteen Frey remained frustrated. Something was wrong; he could feel it somehow.
"Don't you think it's strange that my father hasn't sent any letters from the Twins lately?" Hosteen Frey asked.
Addam Marbrand thought for a moment. "I've heard they can intercept communications..." he admitted, recalling the reports from years ago when Oldtown was attacked. It had taken a long time for the kingdoms to find out... As if they truly controlled all the ravens... Just as he controls animals...
"But it's not just that. We're simply not receiving messages from anyone anymore!" Hosteen Frey insisted.
Even so, Addam Marbrand looked at the letter. "We have no choice. And this letter is genuine. I know Lord Tywin Lannister's handwriting. I also recognize the seal. Are you saying that this letter, which came by raven from King's Landing, is a lie when it was delivered by the knight of Mudgrave?" Addam Marbrand growled.
Hosteen Frey felt that something was wrong, but he couldn't refute him. "So this is how it is now? We'll be alone..." It was obvious that he didn't want to let the men of the Westerlands simply leave like this, but what choice did he have?
"I'm leaving the camp tomorrow morning." Addam Marbrand merely said that, leaving Hosteen Frey standing in the command tent, as they had stopped to camp before entering the next region.
Hosteen Frey remained there, furious, thinking about that unexpected Lannister letter that had come from King's Landing. That was not supposed to be part of the agreement they had made. They were supposed to assist the Freys in controlling the Riverlands and conquering Riverrun. The siege of Riverrun still had to be completed, not to mention the threat of the Arcticans, from whom they had received no news whatsoever.
Everything was eerily quiet. They had already stopped at several castles, but no ravens had arrived. Hosteen Frey was frustrated. That feeling of unease still lingered, as though something truly terrible was about to happen.
Or perhaps he was about to discover that something had already happened...
They had eight thousand Lannister men. Now that army would be left with only two thousand Freys, while another two thousand Lannisters who were at the siege of Riverrun would soon join the main army. The Freys had no more than eight thousand men... Even though the Riverlands would be practically at the mercy of the Freys, they still had to deal with an enemy who was clearly also against the Freys, and whose arrival had probably already started encouraging several houses to rebel as well...
When the following morning arrived, Addam Marbrand immediately began organizing the entire army. They would return south, riding and marching away. The soldiers were full of doubts about all of this, but they had no choice except to obey their commander, since those were direct orders.
And so, Hosteen Frey had no choice but to continue north to see how things were at the Twins. They would move faster now without eight thousand men marching alongside them, but they would also be weaker... He only hoped that, according to the letter, the Arcticans had already left, which was also quite strange.
A few days later... Pemford Region.
Inside a sept, an illustrative depiction of the Seven Gods was displayed at the end of the chapel.
The Father: Represents judgment and divine justice.
The Mother: Represents mercy, peace, fertility, and motherhood.
The Warrior: Represents strength, courage, and protection in battle.
The Maiden: Represents innocence, purity, love, and beauty.
The Smith: Represents creation, hard work, and craftsmanship.
The Crone: Represents wisdom and foresight.
The Stranger: Represents death and the unknown.
A large group of refugees was gathered under the guidance of two septas conducting a mass.
"...Have faith. The light of the Seven will protect us in these dark times," the woman said before everyone.
There were families and solitary individuals. They had survived the war, but many had lost everything because of it. Now, all they possessed was their faith.
Jon Arctic was there among them. He had found that place a few hours earlier and had decided to go alone.
The septa finished the mass, but no one seemed to be thinking about leaving, since there was nowhere else to go. Beds made from all sorts of things except cotton were scattered throughout the place...
"Let's distribute the bread, sister."
The septa beside her nodded, asking a young boy to fetch some things from behind the sept.
"Here."
Everyone who received a piece of bread immediately gave thanks. To the point that Jon thought most of them were there more for the food than for faith. But that didn't matter. The septa seemed to understand that very well and still continued doing everything with a smile, always speaking about the grace of the Seven.
It was the first time Jon had ever been inside a sept. After all, he had hated that place when he was a child in Winterfell. He had never gone near it, especially because Lady Catelyn would clearly have smacked his hand away back then. He hated the Faith of the Seven because of how they treated bastards and also because of his own confusion regarding the Old Gods years ago.
But this time, he entered that place without any hatred. Jon remained seated in a corner of the temple, wearing a cloak over his head so as not to attract attention.
The septa walked over to him carrying a leather sack, offering him bread.
"Here, traveler..." She looked at him, fully aware that he had arrived in the middle of the mass.
"Save the bread for those who need it, septa. I'm fine without it," Jon replied calmly, realizing that those people needed it far more than he did.
"No, my boy. I believe we all deserve it. Please, accept this grace of the Seven," she said.
Jon sighed and took the bread.
He noticed that many people did not like that, looking at Jon as if he were just another burden, another mouth to feed among them. But the septa had been quite kind.
"Thank you, septa," Jon said gratefully and bit into the bread. Personally, he found the taste awful, very different from what he was used to eating as a king, but he remained silent about it. Jon had to warm the hard bread immediately, yet he still ate it.
She nodded and kept smiling, though she observed his appearance. She noticed that his eyes were not ordinary.
Jon found himself liking this woman. He could not judge all people of the Faith of the Seven. Some among them were genuinely benevolent.
Soon she prepared to leave.
But she stopped when she saw something beside Jon.
"I see you're a bard..." She looked at the lute beside him. "Do you enjoy playing music?"
"Yes," he replied calmly.
"Wonderful!" Her voice drew everyone's attention. "Please, could you play something for us?" she asked with an enthusiastic smile.
"Sister, should we really be asking for something like that?" The other septa, who had heard this, immediately exclaimed in horror.
The woman speaking with Jon merely shook her head.
"We are living through wartime. The sept we use is seen as a refuge. This place should be a welcoming refuge and bring some joy, different from what is happening in these dark times... The Seven will not punish us for a song, sister."
She then turned her gaze back to Jon, a certain sparkle in her eyes as she awaited his answer.
"Before that, may I know your name?" she asked.
"Jon," he replied cautiously, though he did not even ask for her name. He did not want to be overly polite and reveal that his origins were not so common. The fewer questions about him, the better.
She nodded.
"I am Sister Teresa, and the one who spoke with me is Sister Filomena. We take care of this sept. Because of the war, the septon left, and only the two of us remained here. It has always been more of a public sept. When the war broke out, many people left, but we stayed. Now we are dealing with refugees who have come to this region..."
Jon nodded.
"Very well, Septa Teresa. I will play a song for you," he said at last.
The woman seemed to be a lover of music and looked at him expectantly.
At the same time, some of the people also turned their attention toward him. Jon sighed, picking up the lute and placing it against his body before beginning to play the first chords.
The song he chose was the classic "Jenny of Oldstones," since they were quite close to that region.
The melody began to resonate, and his voice started to fill the room.
"High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghosts..."
This immediately astonished the septas and even the people around him.
"What a wonderful voice..." murmured the septa beside him.
She watched him play while the melody was accompanied by the chords of the lute.
"...The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones
Who had loved her the most."
Jon played until the final note before receiving a few quick claps from the woman beside him.
"Very good. I loved it," she said.
Jon nodded, offering a smile.
"Thank you."
Shortly afterward, he stepped outside to get some fresh air. In truth, he intended to write a letter to arrange supplies for that place immediately.
"Excuse me."
Jon was interrupted when he saw two girls approaching. They could not have been more than eighteen namedays old. They were among the people he remembered seeing inside the sept, together with their mother. There was no father in sight.
"Yes?" Jon spoke calmly.
"Mr. Bard..." they began. "Would you, by any chance, like to do those things with us?" the older one asked.
Jon's eyes widened.
"What are you talking about, girl?"
"You know... those things. We do it for a few coins. You're a bard, right? You must have some... We're cheap..." she said directly, causing Jon to narrow his eyes. Despite the calm he displayed, he felt somewhat disgusted.
"How old are you, girl?" he asked in a very serious tone.
"I am eighteen namedays old. I'll be nineteen soon. My sister is also eighteen. Since we're old enough to no longer be maidens, we earn a few coins this way for me, my sister, and my mother..."
Jon looked at the girl. She did not seem ashamed of it at all. It was obvious this was not the first time they had done something like that. They were probably gathering coins with their mother's encouragement. They must offer themselves to every man who came to this sept... so close to the main road.
"Where is your father?" Jon asked. A father should never allow such a thing.
The two girls merely shook their heads.
"He died on the farm," the younger sister said, quite shy, unlike the older one, who was much more direct.
"How did that happen?" Jon wanted to know.
The older girl's eyes widened.
"My lord, I don't think you should know."
"What if I give you a coin to tell me?" Jon asked.
That made the girl's eyes widen even further. It was obvious he would never participate in something like that, but he was willing to give her a coin to better understand their situation.
Jon took out a silver coin. He knew that gold would attract far too much attention and would be dangerous for those girls in times like these.
He handed over the coin.
"Now tell me your story."
Jon set the paper and quill aside.
The younger girl looked at the older one, who was still surprised by the coin. It was far more than she had expected to receive, considering she practically sold her own body for a few copper coins.
At last, she nodded.
"We lived on a farm nearby. We had a simple life... until the war began, and the army of the North marched south. My father was a bit older, so he didn't take part in the war. However, when the war reached this area, there was all that chaos involving the North."
She took a deep breath before continuing.
"After that, soldiers came. They were Northerners looking for war fugitives. They found our farm. My father tried to stop them from looting us when they simply started entering the farm, claiming we were hiding fugitives, and they killed him. My mother was raped... and so were we by those same men..."
Jon's eyes widened.
"You're saying they were soldiers from the North?"
He was furious upon hearing that, but he hid it behind a firm gaze directed at the girls.
The two nodded.
"Yes. Soldiers from the North."
"I will remember that," he simply replied.
He had already seen many horrors. He had witnessed similar scenes caused by Lannister soldiers and Frey men, but this showed that the North was no different. And obviously, they were Bolton soldiers searching for Bolton fugitives.
With those words, Jon returned to writing on the paper.
The girls left looking much happier thanks to the silver coin.
Shortly afterward, someone approached him. It was Septa Teresa herself, who came to stand beside him outside the sept.
"You must be composing a song," she said when she saw him writing.
In truth, they were military orders. But she did not need to know that.
"More or less," Jon replied with a small smile.
"I saw what you did for those girls. Many travelers have done the opposite; some don't even pay them and simply leave..." she commented suddenly.
Jon raised an eyebrow. It seemed to be a common situation for her, but he merely shook his head.
"I'm not going to take advantage of girls who shouldn't have to submit themselves to that," Jon said simply.
He did not care much about the life choices of prostitutes, but he disliked women being forced into it, especially girls who ended up that way because of the consequences of war. It would mark them for the rest of their lives. There would not be many men interested in marrying a prostitute, especially now when their numbers were dwindling so much...
"And shouldn't you be preventing that kind of behavior?" Jon asked.
She shook her head in defeat.
"Unfortunately, I can't control everything here. We've already forbidden it, but they keep doing it... Sister Filomena wants to send them and their mother away, especially the mother, who encourages her own daughters down a sinful path... But without the sept, they would be lost..." Teresa explained.
Jon sighed.
"I understand."
Unfortunately, nothing good would come from that for people who had already lost so much.
"Better times will come."
That was all Jon could say.
She smiled.
"Yes. I'm sure of it. With faith in the Seven, anything is possible. They won't abandon us."
Jon looked at the empty road beside the sept. He did not mock her statement, but neither did he seem to care much about it.
"I've heard that Arctic is in the Seven Kingdoms to cause trouble for the Lannisters and bring them down."
He wanted to know the woman's opinion, and she merely sighed.
"Yes, that's true. We've heard about it. The war isn't over yet, after everything."
There was no anger in her voice, only a weary tone.
"I thought you would hate Arctic the moment I mentioned that," Jon said calmly.
The woman seemed to think for a moment.
"Well, they aren't exactly viewed favorably by the Faith, obviously. But what can I say in the face of so much misery happening to us? My opinion won't make any difference."
Jon simply nodded.
"I understand," he murmured.
She then began to take her leave.
"I'm going back inside. If you'd like, there's a place to sleep tonight."
Jon shook his head.
"No. I'll be leaving. Thank you for everything."
She nodded.
"That's a shame, bard. I would have liked to hear your beautiful voice one more time. But that's alright. Farewell."
She walked away and reentered the sept.
Jon finished his letter, attached it to a raven, and sent it on its way. A few children watched him with curiosity. When they saw the raven take flight carrying the message, they could not help but widen their eyes.
Jon merely shook his head and stood up.
Then he walked down the road until a lone horse came to him. Jon mounted the animal and left the sept behind.
He traveled several more miles until he found his men clearing out a small bandit camp with no more than six men.
The problem was that they had been planning to attack the sept itself and steal everything there within the next few days.
Jon left that matter for a dozen of his men to handle while he went to the sept out of curiosity.
When he returned, everyone was already waiting for him after he had said he would go out for a while to visit the area. That was why he had left alone.
Lancelot could not stop looking at him with an air of resignation. His loyal Kingsguard always ended up being left behind while Jon ventured alone into dangerous situations.
It wasn't as if he were truly in danger, but the presence of a Kingsguard would draw far too much attention when Jon was trying to keep his face hidden at all times. Besides, everyone who spoke to him and saw his eyes realized there was something very unusual about them.
"You're back." Arya crossed her arms when she saw him approaching.
Several hours had passed since he had left, enough time for them to even prepare a meal. Meat was roasting over the fire in the middle of the former bandit camp, while the bandits' bodies were already being burned in a corner.
Jon approached them.
"I had to see a few things," he murmured.
Meanwhile, Arya remained beside him.
"You were at that sept, weren't you?" she asked.
Jon gave a small smile.
"It's possible I saw a wolf staring at me from the forest."
Arya merely shook her head. It was obvious she had been spying on him.
"I wanted to see the place for myself," he admitted shortly afterward.
It wasn't enough to simply look through the eyes of animals.
"And speaking of that, it was the first time I've ever entered a sept. It's not as bad as I imagined. Back then, I was afraid that the gods and your mother would try to kill me the moment I stepped inside." Jon laughed.
Arya stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Seriously, Jon?"
"Those septas used to say things like that," he replied. "There were also some servants telling me exactly that in Winterfell back then."
"My mother used to force me to go to that sept sometimes. She and Sansa were always praying while I had to pretend I was paying attention," Arya murmured, poking at the campfire with a stick.
Jon merely snorted.
"Joy told me she practically lived in one of those places inside Casterly Rock and that it wasn't so bad. In fact, it was a good refuge. At least no god ever attacked her. I guess I finally found the courage..." Jon joked, making Arya roll her eyes.
None of his men said anything.
They certainly had no desire to visit a sept devoted to gods other than their own, and they did not know much about such things anyway, so they had nothing to add.
Jon turned his attention to Lancelot.
"It seems Ser Barristan Selmy is doing a good job at our camp. Around fifty men sent by Lord Kaeth have arrived."
"Really? This time did he send actual warriors, or is he just getting rid of a few mouths to feed in his territory?" Lancelot asked with a hint of mockery.
"Those men have arms as thick as twigs," Jon said...
Over the past few days, they had been receiving men sent by Lord Kaeth to try to help them. He had sent around eighty men, but they were all quite sloppy...
Barristan Selmy himself was overseeing the training of all of them, trying to build a combined force of around two hundred men while they continued advancing farther and farther south.
"Anyway, I sent a letter telling them to move forward and bring supplies to the chapel. Meanwhile, I'd like to visit a place a little different from here. But farther north..."
"You want to visit Oldstones, don't you?" Arya asked.
Jon nodded.
"Let's go there. There's no chance I'm going to miss that opportunity."
Now that the Lannisters were leaving the Riverlands, the various forces had lost contact with one another.
They had no idea what had happened at the Twins yet. At the same time, Jon was even preventing ravens from advancing toward the Bolton army in the south... They were quite terrified, with no horse obeying any messenger, while Jon's eyes watched everyone who already knew about the Twins...
The Freys would only have any idea of the situation once they were very close to their lands.
Meanwhile, Jon found himself wondering how Walder Frey was doing as he rode alongside some of his grandsons after seeing his house destroyed...
Raccoon Here:
I wanted to portray those girls as being 14 and 13 namedays old, because it's much more realistic given the cruelty of war. But I kept them older to avoid any problems.
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