B l u e M O O N
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ ; "ʜᴏɴᴏʀ."
299 AC. THE ROSE ROAD.
THEY HAD RIDDEN HARD THROUGH THE NIGHT, MAKING IT TOWARDS THE EDGE OF THE KING'S WOOD TOWARDS THE ROSE ROAD. None of the party had slept, they had only stopped at the break of day to water their horses at the Mander River near Tumbleton; being in the lands of the Reach soothed Jenny, she knew that with her Grandmother being the true power in Highgarden, she would not be harmed if it came to it. But, the Daemadar highly doubted anybody would take notice of the three women travelling through the Tyrell's lands to the Westerlands - where the new camp was, near Oxcross - a few leagues away from Casterly Rock.
Gods, it must be hard for Jaime - to be captive not so far from where you grew up. Catelyn had informed Jenny of what Robb had planned to do the other night, but obviously, due to the circumstances - the Lady of Winterfell hadn't told the blonde till the morn (she had received a raven a day prior to the incident with Renly). Robb's plan had succeeded, he marched on Stafford Lannister's massing army - however, this army was made from untrained civilians, forced into armour; Jenny assumed they didn't put up much of a fight, more of a slaughter really.
Cooly, the blonde-haired woman dismounted from her stallion - running a hand gently down the side of his neck, she clasped her pale hands around his reigns; smiling softly. Jenny led the horse down to the shallow part of the river, eyes mindful of the thirsty stallion all the while who neighed merrily - she ran a pale hand through a midnight mane, that sparkled with starlight in the sun's dew.
The red-haired Lady Catelyn went to do the same, Brienne sat on a log, her horse was hitched nearby - her sword was out and being polished and sharpened. The two caught each other's eye and meekly, the Lady of Winterfell looked away - whilst Jenny watched the interaction through curious eyes.
"It looked like Stannis," uttered the woman, who had large bags under her pretty blue eyes and had stream like stains decorating her cheeks.
Regretfully Jenny was obliged to agree, she had seen the face of the shadow - well if shadows had faces, which they didn't. What had she seen? A figure cloaked so darkly in a veil of night, it appeared like a shadow? No. It came in a storm of darkness and evaporated into midnight mist, what had killed Renly was not of natural birth. It was born to kill, that's all its purpose was.
Sceptically, though a part of her believed Brienne's words, Lady Catelyn exchanged a worrisome look with Jenny; lips turning into a thin, indifferent pale line. "To me, it looked like a shadow," the Lady of Winterfell's words came stiff as Jenny shot her a glance, "In the shape of a man."
"My Lady," began Jenny, hand resting on her horse lightly, "It did truly look like Lord Stannis," her words were shallow as if she didn't believe it herself. Brienne nodded to her, gratefully, hopefully proving that she hadn't gone mad to Lady Catelyn and to herself.
Hitching her horse, Catelyn turned, leaning against the tree slightly - her heart heavy. She missed Robb dearly, though not as much as her heart yearned for her two girls and her littlest boys; yes, the red-haired woman loved her children equally - but, she hadn't been separated from her oldest. Rickon and Bran needed her. Rickon was only a boy of six and she had left him all alone and her crippled son Bran, acting as Lord whilst Robb was away. How could she be so foolish to leave? They had been left alone in a Castle to grieve by themselves for a Father that they adored with all their heart, she doubted poor little Rickon even understood what grief was. She felt like she had been a terrible mother to her children.
Then the Lady Stark thought of her friend, Lady Alia Daemadar - she was utterly alone with her children grown. Her husband was nowhere to be seen, her oldest son a commander of War against the Crown - whilst her other son served the new King as his bodyguard; with two daughters held potentially hostage in King's Landing with Sansa and Arya. Then Jenny, who was last heard being held captive by Jaime Lannister, is now freed and presumed to have aided in the killing of her cousin's husband and hasn't been seen since. Missing or dead. The same fate as her Father, perhaps, possibly. Catelyn would have to send a raven to inform the Lady of the Fortress of White soon, she couldn't put it off.
"We should reach my son's camp tomorrow," the Lady of Winterfell announced, making quick haste towards her horse and patting the mane.
The shorter woman, Jenny, huffed, "My Lady, that's the best news I've heard all day." Catelyn smiled at the woman she had grown so fond of.
Brienne sauntered forwards, still clad dashingly in the bronze breastplate. "Will you stay there long, My Lady?" the knight inquired, leading her horse by the reigns and over towards where Catelyn stood, Jenny turned, offering the warrior a small smile - it wasn't returned.
Readjusting the saddle with a pair of gloved hands, Catelyn looked up - her auburn plat frazzled by the wind. "Only long enough to tell Rob what I have seen," the Lady looked less than pleased as Brienne tied her horse to the branch of a tree trunk. "After that, I will leave for Winterfell," Jenny furrowed her brows, "My two youngest need me."
Jenny's heart ached. Eyva. Mani. Still alone in King's Landing, waiting for nothing to happen. As far as they knew, she was still captured by the Kingslayer and themselves, trapped in the cage that was King's Landing. With sapphire eyes, the young woman offered Catelyn a look of sympathy.
"It'll be quicker than you think," the blonde tried to keep attitudes high and moral, "I'm sure of it, My Lady," Jenny's false smile faltered, "If I'm honest, I fear for Eyva and Manella," she admitted, "They have been in that rotten city for far too long without proper guidance."
The knight walked forwards, hair frizzy and face slightly pink. "I never knew my mother," Brienne told the women, but she kept her head held high - both offered their condolences. "It's a bloody business," remarked the woman, Jenny snorted as she departed from her horse (reigned to a stump) and followed the rest of the trio towards their make-shift sitting area.
The sitting area consisted of four mossy logs, in which some parts were rotting - Brienne had collected some firewood and that was resting in a neat, tidy pile, by a skinny tree; whose arms stretched up to towards to sky like a malformed hand. In front of Catelyn, sat a pitiful fire; very quaint in size, but the heat it provided was worth it. Jenny sat down on a log, next to Catelyn - boots digging into the damp mud that smeared against them; she lifted her arms out in front of the fire, rubbing her hands together in best effort to keep warm.
"What comes after, is even harder," Catelyn turned to Jenny with knowing eyes, "You'll know that soon enough."
The Daemadar shook her head, rolling her eyes, "That day, is still far away."
Continuing to loom over them, Brienne lowered her tight facial expression as she approached closer. "Once your safely back among your own people," began the knight, "Will you give me leave to go, My Lady?" she demanded to know, Jenny knew exactly why she wanted to go.
"Brienne, revenge will do you no good," quipped Jenny, frowning, "It'll just end up in more suffering," she advised. Brienne scowled back, "I swore an oath!"
The woman dressed in Stark attire tutted, drawing her lips in a thin line. "Stannis has a great army around him," the wise woman reminded, "His own guards are sworn to keep him safe."
"I'm as good as any of them," Brienne looked solemnly at the ground, "I should have never have fled."
The attitude Brienne boasted echoed that of Eyva, Jenny found herself longing for her family once again; God's she hoped they were safe. Especially Mani, Mani needed to be safe; she had to be, if she wasn't the God's didn't exist, especially if they would harm something so pure and innocent. Then, the maiden found herself thinking of her younger brother - Anthor, was he okay? Had he been imprisoned? Where did his loyalties lie? Was he even allowed to continue serving, after all, it was a bound oath to serve the crown above all. She needed to send a raven to King's Landing, maybe Lord Varys, the Master of Whispers - would aid her efforts in contacting her siblings.
Furrowing her brow, the Lady of Winterfell stood - back straight and she looked at Brienne now, directly. "Renly's death was no fault of your own," Catelyn's voice was firm, Jenny looked on with admiration, "You served him bravely," Brienne looked down.
A sombre grin danced its way to Brienne's pale lips, "I only held him that once, as he was dying."
The fair-headed maiden stood from her seat. "You cannot dwell on the past forever," Jenny gently touched the knight's hands, "You must not go on a path of vengeance, you will just find yourself in an early grave, next to him."
Thoughtfully, Catelyn met Brienne's gaze with kind eyes, "Lady Jenny speaks with truth, Brienne," she paused, hesitantly, "You must also remember, Renly's enemies are my son's enemies too."
"I do not know your son, My Lady," Brienne moved closer to the Lady of Winterfell as she sat on one of the earth's stools. "But I could serve you," the knight suggested, resting a hand on the hilt of her sword.
Catelyn looked at her with surprised eyes.
"If you would have me - you have courage," the tallest paused, "Not battle courage perhaps, but- I don't know, a woman's kind of courage," Jenny smiled softly, "And I think that when the time comes you will not hold me back - promise me, you will not hold me back from Stannis" Brienne demanded to the Lady.
The woman born in Riverrun mulled over the female knight's words, exchanging a glance to Jenny - wanting her opinion on the matter. "This is your choice and yours alone my Lady," Jenny replied swiftly, nodding to Brienne.
"When the time comes I will not hold you back," Catelyn agreed, heart-swelling in her chest.
Instantly, Brienne pulled the sword from its sheathe, holding the hilt with her dominant hand and gently with her other near the point. She kneeled to the earth, bowing her head to Catelyn.
"Then I am yours My Lady," Brienne looked up to the woman that sat before her, preparing to initiate an oath that she could not break. "I will shield your back, and give my life for yours if it comes to it," Jenny swallowed, she had never seen a knight's oath in person before. It was intense. "I swear it by the Old Gods and the new."
Rising from the seat, Catelyn stood strong, not an arch in her back. She grasped Brienne's hand. "I vow that you shall always have a place in my home," the Lady declared, "And at my table, and that I shall ask of you no service that may bring you to dishonour - I swear it by the Old Gods and the new."
The bronze armour of Brienne shone like wildfire in the sun that danced through the canopy of trees above, the knight arose to height - towering above the other women. A silence infiltrated the trio, as all three slowly began to make their way over to their own horses - to continue the ride back to the camp at Oxcross. Jaime crossed her mind, she couldn't help it, despite the feeling of shame that tainted her heart. She cared for him - in a friendly way of course, though Jenny could not deny the mutual attraction between the two of them.
Together, the knight and the two ladies began to gallop down the Rose Road. They opted to go through Tumbleton, spending the night at the inn before rising in the early hours of the morn to make a swift dash through Lannister supported lands. They crossed the rocky region of the Westerlands, all the while Jenny was nervous about their venture near Sarsfield (one of the Lannister's most loyal houses); they passed through hurridly and continued their ride to Oxcross.
Upon their arrival, men in armour rushed to the women - more notably Jenny and Lady Catelyn, offering them help with their horses. A man she didn't know helped Jenny to the ground, her feet wanted to recoil due to the muddied earth beneath them. Brienne dismounted the horse with ease, giving her stallion over to one of the soldiers to hitch on a post, with the other horses that had just been taken.
"Where is my son?" Catelyn inquired to one of the soldiers that walked with them, Brienne intimidating them all with just a green-eyed glance.
The soldier turned, "He's just returned milady," he dipped his head to the King in the North's Mother, "I'd be happy to escort you to him."
"Thank you," Jenny murmured, slowly trudging behind them, whilst Brienne remained next o her side. Her legs felt heavy and her thighs were sore from the long ride on horseback, she could do with rest, but she knew she had to make her peace with Robb.
There was a hill slathered in mud like some sort of foam, on the way down to the small clearing - muddier than it was when Jenny had left. Cautiously, she placed one foot after the other, her shoes sliding on the mud rather than gripping it; she staggered, and Brienne rapidly caught her. Jenny nodded thankfully, continuing to hold the knight's steady arm as they descended the hill - whilst Catelyn held the soldier's arm.
Across the clearing, Jenny could identify the curled hair of Robb. He was clad in his armour, which was dented with chips and scratches from other steel. In front of him, on a stool was a woman - her hair was messy, stained with grease and knotted, spouting a dirty pale blue dress. Her heart thundered, who was this woman? More importantly, was she jealous? Jenny dismissed herself, she knew how she already felt about Robb - she could not have it both ways and found herself stupid for the feeling. She could not beckon him like a dog at her call and expect him to come running.
Deciding it were best to turn away from the situation, the Daemadar spoke gently, "Lady Catelyn, perhaps it would be best if I retire," Catelyn turned inquisitively, "I fear that I will faint if I do not rest properly."
The two ladies exchanged a look, "Very well if that is what you wish," Catelyn gestured for her to take her to leave.
"Thank you My Lady," thanked Jenny, dipping her head and turning to find someone - perhaps her brother or Tarla Bolton. She deemed it inappropriate to talk to Robb at such a time.
Only within a few paces more, she could hear Robb ask for her. She could hear his heavy boots march over, a light hand wrapping around her wrist. Jenny halted turning to see him.
"Why do you run from me, My Lady?" he asked a frown on his lips - blue eyes subconsciously scanning Jenny for injury or harm. "I want to apologise for my actions several nights ago," Robb paused, "I should have not sent you away in the night."
With a faux smile, Jenny politely agreed, "You shouldn't have Your Grace," she paused, "I see you have found yourself good company," she nodded in the direction of the woman in the blue dress that disappeared.
Grasping her smaller hands with his, Robb stared at her. "Talisa is lovely, but she is not you," explained the love-struck man, "You must forget how I insulted you with those remarks about the Kingslayer - can't you see, this would show unity amongst Stark and Daemadar."
"Come with me," Jenny demanded, leading Robb away to a more private space, a tent with no one in it- away from curious ears and nosy looks. "My King this union is improper," the blonde stated, "You have promised yourself to one of the Frey girls."
A bemused laugh escaped Robb's lips, "I am the King in the North, I will marry who I please," they drew in a thin line, "And I chose you, why must you hurt my heart so?" his hand raised dramatically to his heart.
Faintly, Jenny moved her palm over Robb's hand that was over his own chest. "Being a King is nothing compared to a man's honour," she paused, "You are honourable, you must marry the Frey girl," Jenny implored.
"We were betrothed to one another," Robb mused, "Does that not make my oath to the Frey's void?"
Shaking her head, Jenny sighed, "It does not Robb - we were betrothed by our Fathers, which are no longer here." She smiled melancholically, her hand remaining over his heart. "Our union is void."
"But it's not," Robb argued back, "We could be happy."
Jenny did not agree. "Robb, I adore you," she stared up at him, "But I would not be happy, I cannot be caged and let the days pass me by - with raising children, meddling in politics behind the scenes; without ever being seen," Jenny admitted.
"You would be a Queen," Robb interjected, raising his free hand to her cheek, "A brilliant one at that."
The blonde pursed her lips, averting her eyes from his. "I would only be a Queen because you are King," Jenny dismissively shook off the idea.
Moving closer, Robb's chest felt heavy." Why must you make this so much more difficult than it has to be - I love you, I would give you all of the Seven Kingdoms if you demanded it and the Great Pyramids of Mereen!" he exclaimed, "The world if you wanted it."
"If you truly loved me," Jenny began, a tear brimming in her eye, "You would know I could never be happy with you." Robb's hand did not fall from her face, "I would pray to the Gods, old, new and foreign to make things different because I wish nothing more than to reciprocate your feelings and let things be easy," her melody wavered, "But I cannot and I cannot apologise enough for the things I cannot feel."
The young wolf's heart had sunk. Instead of doing anything rash, he maintained his temper. Robb embraced the shorter woman in a tight embrace; one that felt like they were saying goodbye to each other. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Regretfully, Robb finally spoke, "I understand-"
Suddenly, the flaps of the tent burst open - Roose Bolton burst in. The two nobles parted from each other, the tear still fresh on Jenny's cheek - whilst Robb's were damp. His chest rose and fell heavily as he held up the parchment in his hand.
"I apologise for interrupting Your Grace, but there is urgent and dire news from Winterfell."