Chapter 7: Queen Helena…?
[3 Moons Later]
Helena stifled a groan as she finished organizing the reports for Lord Tully, only to find another stack of reports to organize when she returned to her table from Lord Tully's study, a mind numbing duty placed upon her by Maester Theobald as a lesson of his teachings…
The reports were of the more mundane nature, and didn't particularly pertain to the war of which she had been majorly kept in the dark. She knew naught of how it was advancing other than the fact the Lannister's had finally left the Westerlands, though it remained unclear which side they had aligned themselves with if Lord Tully's tenseness was anything to base her thoughts upon.
At least Helena could finally write a passing essay, and wouldn't need to spend a whole week writing out the whole book upon a failing grade. Her wrist still ache at the thought, though it had done wonders for her calligraphy. It was a small benefit outweighed by the weeks of mind numbing work…
Though the information Theobald spewed still seemed endless and as chaotic as it was, processing and retaining any meaningful information was a grueling task that left Helena's head burning every night. Thank the gods that it fades after a night's rest, but those sleepless nights are absolute torture when she's suffering from the heat.
Luckily, Helena was 'caught' whilst picking herbs by Maester Theobald, and he took it upon himself to further pressure Helena with more work load. Such as learning—helping to make salves meant to keep away infections, balms meant to ease soreness, brew foul mixtures that cleared one's bowels or one's stomach, amongst a midst of other things and despite her lack of knowledge pertaining to the Art of Alchemy, she was slowly beginning to learn.
It seemed that Maester Theobald took Helena's apprenticeship seriously, despite the rumors it fueled, which lead to Lord Tully's difficult position which he managed to ease himself from by informing a select few that Helena was the daughter of his Father's bastard, though it also implicated that Lord still had given no small degree of favor to this bastard's daughter it was lesser pressure than a bastard of his own… It also helped that Helena had proven herself capable in a variety of professions. Well reputed as a blacksmith, a known tailer, and now the apprentice of a Maester and a beginning alchemist while also having some martial capabilities.
The last of which nobody openly spoke about, solely due to the vast number of people who suffered under her hands… None wished to openly admit to such a thing, even if it was silently acknowledged…
Shifting a few reports into a separate stack, Helena continued to read as her thoughts ran amoak, seeming a dozen voices ringing through her mind as they ran rampant. Another sheet of parchment was moved to the side, as Helena brushed an unruly number of strands of hair out of her face gingerly tucking it behind her ear before shifting aside another report—
A bell rang… Once… Twice…
Helena was already on her feet after the first bell, by the second she was sprinting through the hall with her dress pulled up, uncaring about showing her calves, happy that she had a distaste for the heeled shoes Grandmother would occasionally wear…
When it rang a third time Helena began to curse inside her mind, as she burst through the small crowd in the atrium of Lord Tully's estate and threw open the door before running through the village intent on gathering her things and changing out of her dress. Three tolls meant an unidentified army approaching, and with no runner having arrived to inform the village of its arrival Helena assumed it was going to be a bloody battle.
Not wishing that be caught in a fight whilst in a dress, Helena became increasingly conscious about the wooden comb tucked away at her waist next to her waterskin—
Helena focused herself on reaching the building that she had been assigned all those moons ago. It hadn't taken long, with most of the personal inside the village heading towards their defensive positions Helena met little resistance, and was soon stripped naked and quickly throwing in a tunic and pair of thick leather breeches. Tossing a patchwork leather hooded cloak; showing the darkened tanned flesh, Helena tied a leather belt around her waist slipped her comb, an axe, a pouch of foraged edibles, and her waterskin before stuffing only her most prized dresses mix and a number of more masculine clothes—
Only for her door to creak open, Helena body tensed as she dropped the patchwork bundle and snatched her axe from her waist raising it above her head ready to cleave open the—
Helena frowned, her movement coming to a halt as she stared at Theobald who watched her with a dull gaze, "Finally ready to kill this old man huh…?"
Helena lowered her axed returning it to her waist, before turning around and continuing to stuff her patchwork bundle with clothes and assorted items. Theobald showed a smirk, "I figured I would find you here… I bet the moment you heard more that one bell toll, you immediately started to run here. In an attempt to avoid the bloodshed, avoid your potential death. Despite your normal confidence, the look of true fear within your eyes is quite fascinating…"
Helena pulled the strings atop the patchwork bundle, tightly closing it before tying the bundle to a wooden frame pack which held a cobbled together repair kit with most tools Helena would need to repair/maintain/sharpen her equipment.
"You've truly prepared thoroughly… I see that you have taken a few of my vials as well, I wonder what you had brewed for yourself? A blood—stop potion? No, you wouldn't risk failing such a complex brew, especially when it's for yourself… Is it a numbing oil—I see, it is. Well done, then I guess the other is a would—filling salve since I only see two bundles of bandages."
"What do you want?"
Catching Helena's glare with a chuckle, Theobald's shook his head, "I'll be joining you. We are headed to King's Landing."
"We? I'm headed to the Westerlands," She was headed North, "I'm getting as far away from this war as I can, I don't wish to die a death where I'm simply a number to you Maesters."
Theobald's smile only widened. "Ah, I see… You don't know… King Baratheon has emerged victorious, there is no approaching army. I just simply rang the bells when I had received the raven. Lord Tully has already been informed, and will inform the camp, I just took it upon myself to inform you."
Helena stared at the Maester for a long moment, "Still does not change my destination."
Theobald only chuckled as she spread his arms, "My dear apprentice, when did you have a choice?"
Helena didn't… There was simply too much power at play, and Theobald handled far too much of it. Even Lord Tully found it difficult to refute the Old Maester's words…
Helena grumbled, having long grown tired of dealing with this cold man, and momentarily contemplated cleaving her axe into his skull, but with a breath she shelved that thought.
"I took it upon myself to have a few porters ready your cart, and whenever you're ready they'll begin to pack your things. I even managed to get you an old work horse, so you don't even need to pull it yourself anymore. It would do you well to take advantage of my gift, and learn some horsemanship."
Helena sent the maester a sharp, narrow glare but he simply accepted the gaze with a smile, with her nose scrunched in displeasure Helena continued to gather her things at a more relaxed pace, and soon she stood before her cart which was loaded with an assortment of items and a old maester who sat there happily scrawling in an old weathered tome…
"Stop staring and get a move on! If you continue to dally, you'll have to clean my corpse from this cart—"
"Quiet old man," Helena snapped back, as she lightly tapped the horse on the rear urging it forward and led it through the village by its reins soon to leave the encirclement of tents and out onto the road again… After so many moons, Helena was traveling once more, though this time she had little choice…
Sure, she could leave the maester on the side of the road and head North as she had intended to do upon hearing the bells, but her luck would have it that the Old Maester would survive long enough to send a raven to whomever and who'd know what I'll words he'd spread about her… What little influence and renown she had managed to gather would crumble before she even knew it…
She could kill the old maester, but Helena assured herself that Theobald already took precautions for such a thing… Thus, Helena could only direct her cart towards the Crownlands…
Unaware of the intricacies of the plan Theobald had set into motion.
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[One Moon Later]
Helena scrubbed at her nude body in a shallow stream with a coarse bundle of moss, whilst chewing an edible bulb she had foraged from the surroundings. Not far away Theobald could be seen watching Helena with a glint in his eye…
Despite taking great care to maintain her modesty, to do so had grown more difficult with every passing day, as Helena wasn't always lucky enough to find a small clearing amongst the shrubbery lining the stream everytime they crossed one, and it wasn't as if the maester was strong enough, or dumb enough to test his chances with the beauty he watched from a distance, and while her skin crawled when his gaze lingered… It could always be worse…
Such was the mantra Helena had taken to repeating in her mind to stop her from drawing and quartering the maester, though she had entertained the thought of dragging him behind the horse no small number of times… Having passed through three ruined villages, their food stocks were beginning to run shallow, though Helena was capable enough to forage enough food to keep herself energized leaving Theobald to either eat the scraps of the remaining rations or forage for himself.
Together, they passed through war scarred lands, ruined—charred villages, and burnt fields of crops. With Theobald's endless chatter to occupy her mind, and the uncountable number of stars in the night sky, Helena moved through the Riverlands with a steady pace. Internally hoping that Theobald would croak in his sleep, so that she could dump his corpse onto the side of the road, and head back North. Where she would settle upon an abandoned plot of land and set up a rabbit farm…
Though, her wishes wouldn't be meant, and they soon left the Riverlands, only stopping once by a Lorded Town so that Theobald could send a number of ravens and resupply on provisions. Surprisingly, despite a moon of travel through war torn lands, they hadn't happened upon a single bandit, and only passed by a handful of wayfarers going about their way. Having heard whispers of the Sacking of King's Landing brought upon by the Lannister's as well as the birth of the Kingslayer; Jamie Lannister who skewered his king in his own throne…
With every day that they drew closer to King's Landing, Helena began to feel the walls of responsibility closing in… Having long assumed she was being groomed for the newly crowned King Robert, she knew she only added kindling to the flame when she revealed herself amongst the Rear Encampment. While Helena doubted she would be married to the King, she had no doubt that she'd be used by the boisterous fool…
With her mind rampaging in an attempt to make heads of her own situation, while also finding ways out of the responsibility that was to be forced upon her, time passed once more…
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[One Week Later]
Helena smelled King's Landing, a whole day before she saw it on the horizon, a city of filth and kings…
With that view came the harsh reality, that Helena realized she wouldn't be able to escape… Moving through the Rear Encampment after nightfall was difficult enough, and that behemoth of a city wouldn't be any easier.
"Bah, it took you long enough. Finally I can see acceptance in your eyes, have you finally come to realize that there is nothing you could do to free yourself from the game, the very same you thought you had managed to gain a foothold in…?"
Helena didn't even cast her gaze towards the Old Maester, intent on ignoring him as her mind went rampant with varying ideas.
"Give it up… You act as if your life will come to an end. At worst, you'll find yourself as a handmaiden to the Queen. At best, you'll be the Queen. Most women will kill for such a chance, yet you seem to wish to avoid it as if it's the plague. You may very well find yourself to be the first female knight of the Seven Kingdoms, and yet here you are dreading it. Robert ain't the kind to force himself on you, if you truly don't wish for his companionship, so quit your pointless dreading and look at the brighter side. I'll soon be dead, and you won't have my voice filling your ears. You'll live in a Castle of Kings, and most probably lay with the King himself. Your children whether bastards or true born, will have a life of riches being pampered by the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, and taught to by the most experienced and learned men in these lands. What is there to dread?"
Helena sent the man a dull glare, "My freedom, to do as I wish."
"Bah, you'll have the King at your beck and call if you just warm his bed, you'll be able to do as you please when you please with no worry for gold. I don't believe you realize how smitten Robert is with you… If not for his betrothed, and the war he brought upon these lands for her hand, he'd be the one following you around like a lost puppy, and I wouldn't have been ordered to keep you in line…"
Helena simply shook her head, the Old Maester was either not understanding or refusing to understand, and there was no point in explaining herself to such an old fool… Perhaps their perspectives were simply that different…
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"Inform the men manning the gates that should a Maester arrived with a woman, they are to be brought to the Red Keep with haste," A voice resounded through the throne room, as Robert savored a glass of wine having personally raised the castles stores in hopes of finding one that particularly suited his tastes amongst the celebration to his rise to Royalty. Not far from where he sat upon his throne, Lord Jon Arryn; the Hand of the King, gave out his orders to the surrounding soldiers who would temporarily fill the Gold Cloaks until they were properly sorted.
At the base of the throne a wrinkled sack of flattering shit stood, having long worn Robert's patience for his presence thin with pointless drivel. Robert didn't care to hear how the Lannister's had sacked the city and how the minor nobles threatened the lowborn, he had only just ascended the throne and this old fool wishes to soil Robert's celebrations with a load of horseshite…
Yet, Robert still held a smile, as his 'brother' tracked his betrothed, and Theobald was bringing the lowborn woman; who was apparently a descendant of the former, now deceased Lord Tully. A welcome surprise, that helped to lighten his mood after Maester Pycelle continued to spout pointless horseshite…
After nearly half a day of tasting a variety of wine, the large doors to the throne room swung open to reveal the Maester who had stood beside him when the storm took his parents, and the comely beauty Robert had sent him to care for…
By the god's was she a ravishing beauty, not even the image he held in mind from their previous encounter could compare, there was a fire in her eyes that caused his loins to churn as Robert's gaze settled on the deep cleavage she showed… The cut of her dress went deep… Far deeper than any noble woman would wear, and the god's be damned if it didn't light a fire in Robert's chest. This… This is what he sought in a woman.
The lack of care for the social constructs that filled the nobility, a woman that cared less for needle and thread than she did the hammer and sword. Her sleeveless dress showed the faint outline of muscles which bound her arms, and he found himself drawn to her lithe yet pronounced figure…
Those brilliant blue orbs that carried a steel that couldn't be forged in the fires of simple passion, but must be carefully heated and worked in the flames of true courtship… Truly, Robert had no small amount of work before him if he wished to lay this woman…
Robert was allowed a deeper gaze through her cleavage as Helena dipped into a crude, yet meticulous curtsy. The lack of true experience in such a setting showed true, despite the practiced ease at which she performed. Though, Robert's gaze was locked on to the lack of cloth he peered beneath that dress, and he couldn't help but chuckle as a frown settled across the woman's face…
Ha, truly… This is enjoyable.
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Helena furrowed her brows as she was led to a large study, where the boisterous fool, King Robert was waiting. His gaze washed across her body, lingering for a moment longer on her breasts before finding her eyes as a smile split his face, "We meet again, daughter of an unnamed blacksmith. I hope your travels were enlightening."
Helena wanted to scoff, having no doubt that Theobald had informed the man before her of everything that had transpired in the last number of moons, yet it was stifled as Helena dipped down into a curtsy, "It has been least pleasurable, and I had entertained the thought of killing your maester on many occasion."
Robert let out a boisterous guffaw, "This! This is why you're so fascinating! The moment I donned this crown, none dared to openly speak their mind in my presence. Damned cowards! Come, join me in this meal, and May the wine flow endlessly! Today we feast, for tomorrow I must deal with the Lannister's!"
Helena stifle a sigh, as she lived to the only other seat in the room, laid before the seat was an empty platter and the moment she took a seat Robert loudly clapped announcing the start of the feast as a number of servants flooded the room filling the table with platters of food, before filling their glasses with wine. Nearly everyone left, leaving only Robert, Helena, and a cupbearer…
As Robert filled his plate, he gestured towards Helena, "Truly, your beauty knows no bounds. I have seen many women, but few could truly compare to you, and none would ever be seen wearing such an enticing dress. It is such a shame that more aren't as impartial to revealing flesh as you, the world would truly be a better place if a woman wasn't frightened to show herself in such a manner."
Helena remained quiet, more intent on picking through the food placed before her than upholding a conversation. Though, Robert made that increasingly difficult, "I've heard that you took to your Father's profession for some time, and even took part in no small number of drunken brawls. If you wish I could have a forge built in the bailey for your personal use, or I could even induct you to Knighthood… or would it be Damehood…? Damned Maester's creating too many damned words."
Robert finished his words with a healthy gulp of wine, and Helena took this pause to speak a few words, "Your majesty—"
"Ack! You wound me… To think I believed we were closer than that…"
Helena narrowed her eyes, "Lord Baratheon—" his gaze narrowed, and Helena corrected herself once more, "Robert, what is it that you want from me? I doubt you've had me brought all the way here, and groomed by your maester, solely to have me warm your bed…"
Robert set his utensils down, becoming uncharacteristically serious, his tone low and solemn, "I have doubt of Lyanna; my betrothed's survival… The Lannister's wish to hoard power and influence by marrying me to their gilded flower; Cersei Lannister, while the Tyrell's hopes to soothe my anger by giving up no small number of vassals and land, in hopes that I won't pull them from their Highgarden. The Martell's wish to send me a whole host of beautiful women and what very well may be the strongest army of the Seven Kingdoms with the most weakened from the war in hopes that I'll sweep through the Westerlands… Everywhere, everyone is desperately grasping for whatever they can lay their hands upon… Yet, at every turn you've seeked to avoid the dangerous game you have been thrust into… You seek something entirely different from those that have crowded around the throne… Yet, instead of asking what I could give you, or demanding what you're supposedly entitled to… You've asked what I want from you, and as of now all I want is your companionship. I have been advised by Theobald, that I should make you my Queen, for he seems to believe that you'd rather run to the far reaches of the North, before pouring poison into my wine. I fear to lay the maids that fill the castle, as they may very well drive a dagger into my heart… A fear I don't have in your presence, due to what I have learned for your own admissions, and what Theobald has reported to me…"
Before Helena could even think to speak, Robert continued after a brief sip of his wine, "I know the gilded flower of the Westerlands is more smitten with her brother, than she is the gold which fills Casterly Rock, and as things are progressing… If Lyanna is found dead, I may very well be forced to marry the incestuous cunt, and nothing grinds my soul more than the thought that one day I would learn that all my children were bastard born of incest… Thus, I ask if you… If Lyanna doesn't survive and Ned only retrieves her corpse, then would you be my Queen."
Before Helena could answer, Robert raised his hand, "All I ask is for an heir and a spare… After that, you may leave if you wish, I won't hold you against your will."
Helena frowned, as she fell into thought…
Soon her gaze rose to meet Robert's eyes, and she gave a shallow nod, "Very well."
Though, internally she was grinning, as she stumbled the method to completely shatter the game she had been forced to play…
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(A/NStats -
Main Level: 25 -
• Basic Special Knowledge [Indepth First Aid]
Strength: 10 [||||||||—————] -
• Moderate Knowledge [Leverage]
Agility: 7 [||—————-——] -
• Basic Knowledge [Breathing]
Vitality: 8 [||||||————-—-—] -
• Minor Uncommon Illness Resistance
Combat -
Defense: 3 [||||||||||||||||||||-—---] +
Warfare: 0 [|||||||——-—-——] +
Axe: 5 [|———————] +
• Basic Knowledge [Edge Alignment]
Bow: 0 [———————] +
Hammer/Mace: 0 [||||||—————-] +
Spear: 4 [|||||||||||||||-—-—-] +
Sword: 3 [|||||||||||————] +
Unarmed: 7 [|||————-——] -
• Basic Knowledge [Stance]
Skills -
Alchemy: 7 [||||——————] +
• Basic Knowledge [Natural Remedies]
Blacksmithing: 8 [||||||||—————] -
• Basic Knowledge [Iron]
• Special Basic Knowledge [Damascus]
Bowery: 0 [———————] +
Carpentry: 7 [|||||||||-——-——] -
• Basic Knowledge [Rough Building]
Drinking: 5 [||||————-——] -
• Tempered Gut
Herbalism: 14 [|||———-——-] +
• Moderate Herbology Knowledge [Riverlands]
• Meticulous Picker
Horsemanship: 2 [|||——————] +
Houndmaster: 0 [———————] +
Hunting: 0 [———————] +
Lockpicking: 0 [———————] +
Maintenance: 10 [|||||||-—-———] -
• Basic Knowledge [Tools]
• Basic Knowledge [Weapons]
Pickpocketing: 0 [———————] +
Reading: 15 [||||||||||||————] -
• Moderate Westerosi Language
• Basic Calligraphy
• Mindless Reader
Tailoring: 9 [|||||||||||||———-] -
• Basic Knowledge [Linen]
Stealth: 3 [||||——————] +
Total Level: 127
[Basic Special Knowledge (Indepth First Aid): You possess an In-depth knowledge of how to mend basic—moderate wounds.]
[Moderate Knowledge (Leverage): You possess a moderate understanding of how to leverage the weight of something you carry/wield, and a basic understanding of how to leverage your own weight.]
[Basic Knowledge (Natural Remedies): You have come to possess a moderate understanding of how to brew/blend/distill a number of natural remedies, and a minor knowledge of how to brew/blend/distill a number of natural poisons.]
[Moderate Herbology Knowledge (Riverlands): You have come to possess a moderate wealth of knowledge pertaining to the flora inhabiting the Riverlands, and a minor wealth of knowledge pertaining to the flora inhabiting the Vale, Westerlands, Reach, Crownlands, and Stormlands.]
[Meticulous Picker: You have come to possess a basic sense of muscle memory, and care when foraging/harvesting flora, thus are capable of maintaining a certain degree of plants when picking, while also leaving enough for the plants to continue to grow; when available.]
[Moderate Westerosi Language: Through reading numerous tomes, you come to possess a moderate understanding of the Westerosi Language, a minor understanding of the Essosi Language, and a pitiful understanding in the languages of the Ancient Andal, First Men, and Children of the Forest.]
[Basic Calligraphy: You come to possess a basic muscle memory, and dexterity when pertaining to writing with Ink, Quill, and Parchment.]
[Mindless Reader: Through reading continuously for many moons, your body has begun to adapt to extended periods of sitting, and when reading you will hunger less and grow exhausted slower.]
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(A/N: [~38?? Words] Next chapter may be delayed.
Until next time,
White_Dog
)
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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