A Soldier Adrift: Captain Westeros

On a horse fit for a noble, wearing men’s clothes and on her way to the greatest tournament the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen, Naerys reflected on how her life had changed. Scarcely two months ago, she had been drifting through a life that seemed to have already left its best years behind, wary of her noble cousin’s intentions and with no prospects worth speaking of. Now, she was seneschal to a noble worth the title, earning over two gold dragons a year. The noble was from a land that seemed a paradise, and he was even teaching her to fight! There were no unsubtle hints that she should join him in his bed, no talk of repayment. Naerys Waters reflected on Steve Rogers, and thought him to be one of the few good men she had come to know.

They rode through the Riverlands now, their party of five, and Naerys turned her eyes on the object of her thoughts. He hadn’t ‘invited’ her to his bed, and besides his good nature, she thought she knew why. Spied in a quiet moment, she had seen him gazing into a small locket, in which hid a portrait of a woman with a small smile and flowing curls. Whether by distance or death, it was obvious they were separated, and that this mysterious woman still held his heart. She had resolved then to help Steve avoid the wiles of young noble ladies and the schemes of their matchmaking mothers, because he surely wouldn’t recognise them for what they were. And if she were also quietly smothering the buds of her own affection, well, that was her business.

Swiftstride ambled along beneath her as they continued north along the Kingsroad. Ahead, Steve was taking a turn driving the cart, while Robin and Toby rode ahorse on either side, hanging on his every word. She felt her lips quirk at the sight. A bowyer’s son and a mountain clan child, each riding a horse fit for a Lord, while the actual Lord held the reins of a pair of mules.

Robin sat astride Fury like a sack of carrots, while Toby rode like he had been born in the saddle. The boy’s horse was comparable to Fury, and not for the first time, Naerys wondered just how a travelling sellsword came to own three horses worthy of a noble’s stable.

The boys laughed as Steve finished his tale, something about a green skinned strongman and the silver-tongued con man that ran afoul of him, and Naerys heard steady hoofbeats behind her. A moment later, Kedry drew alongside her on the huge roan destrier he called Redbloom.

“Your ward is getting along well with Steve and Robin,” Naerys said.

Kedry nodded. Between the helm he wore and his stone-like expression, it was impossible to tell what he was feeling. “It is good for him to -” he paused a moment. “It is good for him.”

Naerys gave a polite smile in reply and turned her eyes back to the front. After a week travelling with Kedry and Toby, Naerys had realised two things. One, they both had something to hide, and two, Kedry was a terrible liar. Steve seemed well aware of the first and was content for them to share in their own time, and Naerys would of course follow his lead, but it was the second that set her to twitching. Kedry was aware of his shortcomings, but rather than seek to cover them with polite demurrals, he had apparently decided that cutting himself off mid sentence and then blatantly changing the subject was the solution.

“Are you looking forward to the tourney?” Kedry asked.

Naerys held back a sigh. At least it was an improvement on avoiding conversation entirely. “Very much so,” she said. “Even as tournaments go, this one promises to be special.”

“Have you attended one before?” Kedry asked.

“No, never,” Naerys said with a snort. “I’m a bastard-born girl from a poor House.” She admitted it easily, now that she was a woman of means, when back at Sharp Point it had been something shameful, widely known but rarely mentioned.

“A bastard?” Kedry asked. “But where are your horns?”

It took her a long moment, a moment that began with a familiar twist in her stomach as she prepared herself for rejection, but then she saw the faintest upward twist at the edge of Kedry’s mouth. She spluttered. “My horns I keep hidden in polite company,” she said, “so I can’t say I know why I’ve put them away here.”

A laugh broke free from Kedry’s throat, high and clear. The three boys ahead turned back at it, broen from their conversation, and Kedry quited himself to chuckles. The boys turned back, but not before Naerys saw a small smile on Toby’s face.

“I was always told bastards were ugly, spiteful, scheming things,” Kedry said. “Given who told me, I should have known it for a lie.”

“Who told you such things?” Naerys asked.

“A knight that my father - knew,” Kedry said.

“Ah,” Naerys said. Kedry was much better at telling misleading truths than lies, she’d noticed. “For a long time, the only Ser I ever met was my cousin, who was not the best of men. But I’ve met many more with Steve, some great, some ordinary.” She shrugged. “They’re just men.”

“They are called to be the best of us,” Kedry said, scowling.

Naerys made no mention of the refined Vale accent that had shone through briefly, only making a vague sound of agreement.

“How is your arm?” Kedry asked.

“Healing,” Naerys said, tensing the limb in question gingerly. The first day had been the worst, every aborted movement sending a flash of pain along the wound, but now she could hold Swiftstride’s reins with hardly a twinge. “Steve said I should be able to start doing some light exercises again once we reach Harrenhal.”

“It is good of him to train you,” Kedry said. “Not many would think it a woman’s place.”

“It is kind of him,” Naerys said, glancing at Kedry out the side of narrowed eyes.

“I could assist once you are recovered,” Kedry said stiffly. “I know Steve does not use a sword, and you wielded yours well against the bandits.”

“Oh,” Naerys said. “Yes, I would appreciate that.” She watched a subtle tension leave the sellsword’s broad shoulders. Oh, she thought, and looked at him anew. He had long lashes and a dreamer’s eyes, and next to anyone but Steve he would have looked well muscled. Nothing but a sword lesson had been offered, but her intuition said there was another layer left unsaid.

“Steve has done much for me, and for Toby,” Kedry said. “I would like to repay his generosity.”

“He will appreciate that,” Naerys said. “But I don’t think he asked you to join his retinue because he wanted service.”

Kedry glanced ahead, they were out of earshot of the cart, and the boys were still pestering Steve for stories. “He is paying me two gold dragons a year,” he said.

“He told you that he led a group of champions in his homeland,” Naerys said, and Kedry nodded. “I think he just wants to build a group of companions. The pay is just his allowance to the way things are done here.”

“That would be something,” Kedry said. “Perhaps we could adventure around the Kingdoms, righting wrongs and dispensing justice.”

“That would be a fine thing,” Naerys said with a laugh. “You should suggest it to him after the tournament.”

“I couldn’t presume,” Kedry said.

“Steve offered to pay for Robin’s entry to the archery contest within ten minutes of meeting him,” Naerys said. “He doesn’t much care for what is ‘proper.”

“I’m beginning to notice that,” Kedry said. “I’ve not met another noble who can fight like he did and then turn around to provide aid. It was...admirable.”

It was a fine thing, Naerys agreed, but more impressive was how Steve had changed the way their two newest companions had viewed him, Toby especially. He had been wary and mistrustful, unashamed of accepting Steve’s help because he had coin and they needed it, and now he was almost hanging off his every word. More than Steve killing five men in a few heartbeats, it was his actions and care after the fight that had planted the seeds of loyalty. Naerys recognised it happening to another, but she couldn’t say when it had happened for her. Was it after he assaulted her cousin, only to realise what it meant for her and apologise? Was it when he trusted her with his small fortune as his seneschal? Or was it a more gradual thing, building as they travelled halfway across Westeros together? She couldn’t say.

“I’m sure he would teach you what he knows if you asked,” she said, keeping her thoughts to herself.

Kedry looked intrigued for a moment, before seeming to remember something. A small sigh escaped him. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps.”

“We’ve nowhere to be after Harrenhal, so you’ve time to decide,” Naerys said. Decide if you want to share this secret of yours that makes you reluctant to accept help, she thought. Aloud, she said, “nowhere save a safe place to keep Steve’s melee winnings.”

“I had thought he was jesting when he spoke so surely of victory,” Kedry said.

“I think I will be making some wagers,” Naerys said, “both on the tourney, and in the tavern, if I can persuade him.”

“You don’t think his...physique will scare people off?” Kedry asked. “Or that he might lose?”

“There’s a fool in every tavern,” Naerys said, “and I watched him beat Big Belly Ben in an arm wrestle.”

“Of the Kingswood Brotherhood?” Kedry asked, nudging his horse closer.

“You haven’t heard?” Naerys asked. “I would have thought the news would have spread all the way to the Neck by now.”

“I haven’t been to a tavern for a month,” Kedry said.

“Let me tell you about how the Kingswood Brotherhood met their end…” Naerys said, leaning in.

The road continued on and so did they, sharing tales and watching the country go by. They might not fully trust each other just yet, but in time they would, and for now, that was enough.