Summary:
Marc (now named Roger), Arya and their escort stops for the night and prepare a camp.
Chapter Text
As dusk gradually settled, we finally came to a halt for the night. I must admit, the day's ride on the horse had left me feeling incredibly uncomfortable – a stark contrast to my usual walking habits. Every jolt and sway of the horse seemed to reverberate through my body, reminding me that I was truly out of my element. I was still learning how to handle the horse riding on a long distance and having only that or talking to do in a day was something that was complicated to handle for me as I loved being occupied. Oddly enough, a mixture of exhaustion and boredom had taken hold of me throughout the journey. The inactivity, the monotony, it all seemed to clash within my restless spirit. That allowed me to find some peace, even though I struggled still to find a new balance in that matter.
Yet, even though I was yearning for more activity, I couldn't deny the apprehension that crept in. This marked my first night sleeping outdoors, far from the cosy confines of an inn, from the rooms of Darry Castle or even the bed the peasants gave me when they hosted me. A part of me wondered if our group would have the opportunity to stop in an inn during this journey as I didn't know how it was distributed in the Seven Kingdoms as a whole and in the Riverlands in particular as no specific mentions were made in the books I had read or the show.
The vulnerability of our situation became starkly apparent. With no inn in sight and the immediate surroundings unfamiliar, I realized we were at the mercy of any potential ambush. I thought on the possibility of Cersei making a bold and foolish move, especially if Jaime told her my last message. A part of me wondered if it was a good idea to defy in such a way the Lannister lioness, but the fact she sent her brother to intimidate me and possibility beat the hell out of me, not to mention Sandor, had been enough to make her taste her own medicine, even if it wasn't the smartest move.
My logical mind was considering the thought and wondering if I should inform Harwin and his men. I hesitated, because while the Lannisters were distrusted with fair reasons, the idea that the queen would backstab anyone behind the backs of her husband and of the Hand might not be believed, not to mention the fact I was still a foreigner. Then again, who would suspect she was having an affair with her own twin brother which lead to poor Bran being pushed off a tower? Even if Arya trusted me, my interactions with Harwin and his men were still in development and a foreigner claiming to know more than he should could be tricky in certain circumstances. That didn't mean I wouldn't try to prepare for the worst in any manner, but I had to be smart and thoughtful. I was not Thompson and Thomson from Tintin for God's sake! If I was as direct as the two detective friends of the Belgian reporter, I could directly take a ticket for the septs, the Citadel, the Wall or any place away from lunacy and needless paranoia or to be killed as any misstep could lead to a brutal fall.
Attempting to end those thoughts, I took a look at my companions, my eyes stopping for a moment on Arya as she was with Lady. The time spent with her in riding was pleasant as she decided to help me with my unease and discomfort in this field. Harwin and some of his men also gave me tips in this endeavour and their contribution allowed me to slowly earn their trust beyond what they had heard from Eddard Stark or Arya and what occurred with Jaime Lannister and Sandor Clegane. It was strange to interact with them with a fake name, even though it was to protect me. I was reminding myself that I was Marc as Arya reminded herself who she was many times in the show. But a part of me was glad of the name I had chosen as it was my choice and a part of me wondered if I shouldn't use it as my new identity. After all, I was nobody and there was an ocean of possibilities for me in spite of the harshness of this world.
My interactions with my companions during those first hours of journey allowed me to start a healthy bond with all of them. As a result, I managed to know all their names, but also experienced the contrast in culture and life style between us, even though the two first weeks since I had arrived in Westeros softened the gap. Not to mention using my knowledge in clever ways and my diplomatic and friendly manner to interact with my companions. I tried not to fall in my tendency to speak too much, partly because no matter my knowledge, I needed to know them as people and to understand them, but also because I was thinking upon how to depict to them, stories from home without falling in unbelievable claims from their perspectives, not to mention that I wanted to keep secret my peculiar status as what could technically be an alien. I didn't feel ready to speak much of my home-world, even in a subtle and indirect way.
A part of me lingered on revealing it to Arya, but I decided to wait as no matter her curiosity and her adventurous mind, I was uncertain as to how she would be able to suspend her disbelief to some of the claims. And I was also thinking of the fact that revealing such truths to her would easily influence her if she believed them and could bring me in conflicting position with her family. Inside my mind, I was already imagining Catelyn Stark chasing me down because I would be corrupting her little daughter and swaying her away from her rank of Lady of the Stark House. But it was also the fact that I was aware that regardless of my boldness and of my skills, my position in Westeros was the lowest. Even a whore or a bastard would have a better position than mine. A part of me told me I was very harsh on myself, but it was a fact I couldn't lie about.
Stopping to observe my companions, I glanced at Harwin who was giving his commands to his men. I thought on the opportunity to speak with him about the night watch organization.
As I approached him, I took in the scene around us. The camp was beginning to be set up as some of the guards were settling tents in a semi-circle. One of the guards, Jonric, was preparing fire while Errac was checking the supplies. Two others were tending to our horses. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and the underlying tension of being in unfamiliar territory. The other were either looking for woods for the fire, inspecting their weapons or observing the surroundings for any signs of danger.
As I arrived nearby Harwin, his gaze shifted from his men to me. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, bore into mine, giving away a hint of curiosity tinged with caution.
I approached him with a calm and inquisitive expression. He noticed me and turned his eyes on me.
"Ah, Roger. What do you want?"
"If you don't mind, I'd like to discuss how you will organize the night watch tonight. I would hope to contribute in any way I can," I began, my voice carrying a tone of concern, but also cautiousness, as I didn't want to interfere too much in the matter without his approval.
Harwin looked at me for a moment, his eyes assessing my sincerity. After a brief pause, he nodded and gestured for me to walk with him to a quieter spot away from the rest of the group.
"I appreciate your willingness to contribute, Roger," he said, his voice carrying a note of gratitude and of intrigue.
As I followed him to the quieter spot, he paused for a moment, probably thinking upon what to say.
"I was considering dividing our group into shifts for the night watch. I'll personally take the first shift. We'll position ourselves in a semi-circle around the camp, keeping both a watchful eye and a clear line of sight.", he finally revealed.
I nodded in approval, appreciating his proactive approach. "This is a solid plan. Having experienced individuals on each shift should ensure that we're prepared for any surprises."
Harwin smiled appreciatively to my answer before asking with an intrigued and serious voice, "How do you think you can help? You don't look like someone having experience."
I thought upon his words before answering.
"You are right, I am no warrior. But let's just say I am very analytical. And the only thing I would suggest from your idea is that each shift has two men, each of them observing a certain part of the camp and of the surroundings. That way, we might restrict any unsavory surprises."
After an afterthought, I added. "We should also consider relying on Lady. While she is young, I think her keen senses can provide us an early warning if there's any sign of danger."
Harwin considered my suggestions, his brows furrowing in thought. "You make a valid point," he replied. "Having two men observing each part of the camp would certainly improve our vigilance. And involving Lady may provide an extra layer of security, since her scent could give us an edge in detecting potential threats."
He paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Let's implement your suggestions, Roger," Harwin decided. "I'll assign the shifts and pairs accordingly."
I nodded. "That is fine with me. Thank you for listening my suggestions. I just hope I didn't infringe on your duties and tasks."
Harwin shook his head, a reassuring smile on his face. "Not at all, Roger. You admitted not to have experience and your suggestions are practical and common sense."
I sighed in relief. The last thing I needed was to sound infringing and blindly self-righteous to believe to I best on deciding how to handle issues when I was interacting with people who had experience in their field, no matter the cultural and perspective contrast.
"I think we should join our companions," I said.
Harwin nodded and we moved back to the campfire. The fire was now lit and its flame was growing bright. One of the guards was preparing a kettle for a meal. The tents were almost settled while the other guards were busy in checking the areas, the horses, their weapons or bringing back wood. I looked with reverence and curiosity the activity. I never did campfire and witnessing one, especially one that would be close to medieval ones was a peculiar and opening-eye experience. I wondered if one was looking for water for the meal and of the possibility that would give me to show them the little technique I taught to the peasants who had hosted me. I saw Harwin moving towards one of his men watching the surroundings. Hearing rustlings, I turned around and saw Arya approaching me.
"Roger, what were you talking with Harwin?", she asked with curiosity.
"I was discussing with him about the organization of night watches."
Arya's eyes sparkled with curiosity, but she didn't press further.
"Sounds important. I trust you both have come up with a good plan," she said, her eyes moving to check around the camp.
I nodded, relieved that she didn't inquire further.
"Yes, we've divided the shifts and assigned pairs to keep watch over different sections of the camp. It should help us stay alert and prepared."
Arya nodded, her gaze determined. "That sounds good. Harwin and the guards will protect us.", she said with conviction.
I nodded with a warm smile, my gaze meeting Arya's determined eyes. "I know they will."
I just turn a bit more serious, though my tone was kind, "Just remember, should any danger occur, your safety is paramount, even if it means staying away from the fight or even fleeing it," I assured her, my voice gentle yet firm.
Arya's brows furrowed, her expression a mix of determination and frustration.
"But I don't want to leave anyone behind. They are loyal to my family. I want to fight alongside them," she retorted, her words reflecting that fierce loyalty and sense of justice that ran in the Stark family.
I took a step closer to Arya, kneeling down to be at her eye level.
"I understand your desire, Arya. But those men are prepared and ready for this possibility. And I am no warrior. I have no training that would enable me to protect you and myself in a fight. And I am sure your father wouldn't want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger. There is a time for bravery and there is a time for survival," I explained, my voice filled with empathy and concern. I then reached out and patted her head.
Arya's gaze softened, and she nodded, her fiery spirit momentarily subdued. Once again, her checks turned a shade of red. But then her determination came back in force.
"But I have Needle. I can fight with it. It's important to me," she stated.
While knowing well of what she was speaking, I wisely decided to play ignorant, "Needle? I hope you don't expect to knit your enemies to death."
Arya's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, clearly not expecting my playful response. She blinked, then let out a small, genuine laugh.
"No, not quite, Roger," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes. "Needle is a sword, a special one. My brother Jon had it made for me before he left for the Wall. It's small, but it's sharp, and it's mine."
As she spoke, she carefully unsheathed Needle from her belongings, holding it up for me to see. The blade glimmered in the firelight, and even in its small size, it exuded a sense of purpose and determination.
I couldn't help but smile at her attachment to the weapon and her willingness to prove herself.
"It's a fine blade," I acknowledged, nodding in approval. "But do you know how to use it?"
Arya's face brightened, and she proudly replied, "Stick them with the pointy end."
Chuckling softly and a bit fondly, remembering that it was the words Jon had told her, I nodded.
"Well, that's a good start. However, even though I am no fighter, I also know that being mobile and anticipating your opponent's movements is crucial. Your opponents won't be frozen dummies," I explained, trying to impart some practical advice.
For a moment, as I continued to look at Needle, my mind remembered her using the sword to kill that murderous bastard, Polliver. I rubbed my eyes quickly, dispelling the image. Now was not the time for dark memories of that sword.
Thankfully, Arya was listening intently, absorbing my words and did not notice my moment of brief discomfort. Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded in understanding. "I get it. I'll remember that," she replied, determination once again gleaming in her adorable eyes.
I nodded approvingly. "Good. Though you need to find a way or for someone to show you how to be mobile and to anticipate the moves of your opponent."
Arya's eyes glinted with a mixture of resolve and curiosity. "I should ask Harwin to give me tips until we reach Winterfell. He's a good fighter, and he knows a lot about this kind of stuff," she suggested, her mind already working out a plan.
I smiled at her proactive approach. "That's a great idea. Harwin's experience will undoubtedly be valuable to you. And I doubt he can refuse you as you are the one with the higher status and rank here."
Arya grinned, appreciating the support and advice. "You're right, I'll talk to Harwin about it. Thanks for the encouragement. I want to be the best fighter I can be."
I nodded, pleased with her determination and eagerness to learn. I was also glad to have found the best words to explain to her how to exploit an opportunity without riling her up by calling her a lady. Even though that could be fun to some extent, I preferred to share fun with her and not at her.
"You've got the spirit, Arya. Keep that fire in you, and I have no doubt you'll become a formidable warrior maiden in no time."
Arya's grin widened, her eyes again shining with excitement. "Thank you."
Her expression shifted, her brows furrowing with curiosity. "What about you? You said you're not a fighter."
I paused for a moment, contemplating Arya's question. Her genuine concern touched me, reminding me one again the remarkable person she was even at a young age, and the responsibility we seemed to have developed for each other. A part of me was amused, because while it was normal that an adult should be responsible for a child, the reverse was kind of unconventional and generally not ideal. But I knew that my young friend, while still very young and unexperienced with most of the dark shades of the world, had a sharp mind and great potential to shine. And a part of me wanted to help her become the Winter Rose she should have been, if it had not been for the awful experiences she lived in the books and in the show.
"Well, I intend to train myself to be able to defend myself and those I care for," I answered her with a thoughtful nod while revealing my hammer.
Seeing my hammer's head gleaming in the dim light, Arya's eyes widened as they landed on the weapon. She seemed to be studying it intently before her gaze shifted to my face, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. I noticed her watching my hands, particularly how I retrieved the hammer from my clothes.
"You're left-handed," she observed, her tone a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
I chuckled softly at her keen observation. "Yes, I am," I confirmed, a touch of amusement in my voice. Her attention to details was impressive, just like her father.
Arya's eyes flickered between the hammer and my face, her interest unmistakable. "Why did you choose a hammer? Most people here use swords or other kinds of weapons," she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
I smiled, appreciating her inquisitiveness.
"You're right. Swords are the more common choice. But I chose the hammer for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I sometimes used a big hammer to help split wood with my father when I visited him. It's not the same as fighting, of course, but it gave me some familiarity with the weapon. And secondly, well, while I am no fighter and dislike violence, I thought if I ever had to use a weapon, I would perhaps be more the knocking guy around than the stabbing one," I explained, trying to convey my reasoning.
Arya's lips curled into a grin, and she looked at the weapon with newfound appreciation. "Knocking the guy around, huh? I like that," she said with a chuckle, her eyes meeting mine.
I laughed along with her, glad that she found my reasoning amusing. "Well, I'm glad you do. It's a bit unconventional, I admit, but it suits me," I replied, my smile genuine.
Arya's grin lingered as she regarded me with an impish gleam in her eyes. "I can see it suiting you. You're different from most people I've met," she remarked, her tone light but genuine.
I raised an eyebrow playfully, teasingly echoing her words from our earlier conversations.
"Oh, is that a good different or a bad different?" I asked, a mock-serious expression on my face.
Arya's eyes sparkled with mischief as she retorted, "Definitely a good different. You actually have a brain inside that head of yours."
I chuckled heartily at her playful banter. "Well, I'm flattered that my brain is getting some recognition," I replied, a playful twinkle in my eyes.
Arya's smile softened, and she looked at me with a warm feeling coming from her.
"You know, Roger, you're not like the others. You're straightforward, you defend what's right, and you treat me like a person, not just a little girl. That's rare around here," she admitted, her tone sincere.
I met her gaze with a nod, touched by her words.
"Thank you, Arya. I appreciate that. And you know, it's easy to treat you like a person because you are one. Your age doesn't define your worth or your capabilities," I replied, my voice earnest.
Arya smiled, genuinely pleased by my response. I thought back on some of the skills and activities I was doing back home before my arrival in Westeros. When it came to combat, my mind went back to the aikido lessons I had done. Some would laugh and make jokes about Steven Segal and fake martial arts when it came to Aikido. However, I was not about to reach out and do a technique that the internet would call "bullshido". This was about one's inner balance and predicting what an opponent would do.
"You know what? Maybe I can give you some tips about training yourself to anticipate your opponent's moves."
Again, her eyes lit up with excitement, this time at the prospect of receiving training tips. She nodded eagerly, her curiosity piqued.
"Really? That would be amazing, Roger! I'd love to learn from you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
I smiled at her eagerness. "I'd be happy to help, Arya. However, that won't be now."
My answer puzzled Arya whose glance turned from enthusiastic to confused and disappointed.
"But why?", she asked confused.
"Well, beginning in the middle of the journey to your home doesn't feel right and I intend to take inspiration from some of those moves for my own training and to remember them. And while I do want you to share these tips with you, I prefer to wait to be in Winterfell. First, we need to be in place where we will be at ease and second to avoid to face your brother and mother's wrath because I gave you training without their consent, not to mention that this activity could be seen improper for you. If I present those lessons as something that could give you self-defense skills without weapons, it might convince your family", I explained to her.
Arya's confusion turned into understanding as she listened to my explanation. She nodded slowly, realizing the wisdom behind my words.
"I see your point. It makes sense to wait and get permission. I don't want to cause any trouble, and I understand that it might be seen as improper, especially for a "lady' " she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.
I reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, offering reassurance. "I know you're eager to learn, Arya, and I promise we'll find the right opportunity to train together," I assured her, my voice filled with sincerity.
Arya's disappointment faded, replaced by a renewed sense of determination.
"You're right."
We heard rustling nearby us. As I turned my gaze, I saw Lady approaching us. I got on my knees towards the direwolf and extended a tentative hand towards her, as I wanted to see if I had her trust and to see if our first interaction in Darry Castle was not a whim. Arya watched with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation as Lady's nose twitched, her eyes fixed on my hand.
To my relief and a twinge of fanboy joy, her response was positive like the previous time in Darry Castle. She approached my outstretched hand and sniffed it, her demeanor calm and curious. Slowly, I reached out and gently scratched behind her ear, earning a contented rumble from the direwolf.
Arya's smile widened as she watched the interaction between me and Lady. She once again become inquisitive.
"Roger, if you want to train during our journey, would you ask Harwin or one of his men to train you? You said you need to learn to defend yourself, right?" Arya inquired, her concern showing in her tone.
I nodded in agreement, appreciating her suggestion. "Yes, you're right. Better take advantage of getting a veteran fighter help if I want to know how to fight and to defend myself," I replied, acknowledging her insight.
Arya's expression brightened, her enthusiasm apparent. "I think you can learn well. You've got a good head on your shoulders. With some training, you might surprise yourself," she stated, her voice filled with encouragement.
I smiled at her words, touched by her confidence in me. It helped that she was so adorable!
"Thank you, Arya. I appreciate your faith in me. And you know, having someone as spirited like you as a friend is already a source of inspiration," I replied, my voice sincere.
Arya's cheeks tinged with a hint of color, but her gaze remained steady as it met mine. "Likewise, Roger. We've got each other's backs," she said with conviction.
I acquiesced, appreciating her words. "We sure are. One for all and all for one!"
Inwardly, I was amused to make this reference to one of the most famous quotes from the well-famed Three Musketeers. It was a reminder of home and I felt it worked in this place, at least for the circumstance. For the so-called players, the motto would rather be "One for all, every man for himself!" like in "La Folie des Grandeurs" movie.
As we shared this understanding, a new presence joined our conversation. Wyl, one of the Stark guards, approached us with curiosity in his eyes. His gaze shifted between Arya, Lady, and me before finally settling on the hammer hanging from my belt.
"That's a curious choice o' weapon ye've got there," Wyl remarked, his tone light but intrigued. I smiled at him, appreciating his curiosity.
"Yes, I acquired it in Darry Castle. Thought it might come in handy for protection," I replied, my tone casual.
Wyl's brows arched, and a hint of amusement played at the corners of his lips. "Aye, I see. 'Tis better t' have somethin' than nothin', 'specially when ye travel."
Before I could respond, Wyl's curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned in a bit closer.
"So, Roger, dost thou know how t' wield that thing?" he asked, his eyes flickering with genuine interest.
I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. "I'm a complete green boy when it comes to fighting of any sort. I've had no training in wielding weapons."
Wyl furrowed his eyes with intrigue, "So thou hast ne'er wielded a blade afore?"
I shook my head while sheepishly grinning.
"Never. I have some skills in self-defense moves I have learnt through a martial art of my homeland called aikido, but I had never used them. But I hope to learn to use my hammer along the road during this journey to Winterfell."
While his eyes were still intrigued and serious, Wyl's amusement was evident as he chuckled in response. "Well, I appreciate thy honesty. 'Tis a breath o' fresh air when compared t' those who claim mastery after a mere few swings."
I joined in his chuckle, nodding in agreement.
"I believe in being honest about my limitations. But I'm also eager to learn, if you or someone else would be willing to teach me the basics."
Wyl's expression turned thoughtful, and he regarded me with a contemplative look.
"Ye ken, I'm nae a master at arms, but I've got a fair share o' experience wi' a sword. If thou art willin' t' put in the effort, I could surely aid thee wi' the basics."
My smile broadened at his offer. "I'd appreciate that, Wyl. Thank you for being willing to help. Can we start tonight before we eat anything, at least with a basic lesson?"
Wyl nodded, his eyes gleaming with a sense of camaraderie. "Of course, Roger. We can commence forthwith. I'll show thee some fundamental techniques and stances t' get thee started. But mind ye, 'twill nae transform thee int' a warrior overnight."
I acquiesced to his words. While a part of me yearned to be able to defend on my own, I knew it wouldn't come overnight, unless I was possessing magic, superpowers, divine gifts or even Gary Stu abilities. But I was neither Superman, nor Bran or Rey Palwalker, only a normal Frenchman in one of the most brutal places in any universes. I couldn't even pretend to reach the level of a Batman or a Black Widow as I didn't have years of training in my body. I surely wasn't Allan Curran, the OC insert from "A Crazy Journey Through Fiction", even when I was literally bonding and interacting with the character that looked so much alike Lyanna. Hopefully, Arya wouldn't lose an arm and I wouldn't have to face a paranoid family afraid of a commoner seducing their kin and Bloodraven wasn't for the time being determined to backstab me in any manner, though with this dragon greenseer, I had to be cautious in spite of our truce.
I relegated my thoughts in my mind as Arya stepped forward with a grin as she had been observing my interaction with Wyl with interest.
Arya's eyes sparkled as she looked between Wyl and me. "I'm looking forward to seeing how you handle that hammer, Roger. It's going to be interesting!"
I grinned, playfully rolling my eyes. "Oh, I'm sure it will be quite the sight."
Lady, who had been standing nearby, seemed to sense the liveliness of our conversation and wagged her tail, adding a playful energy to the moment.
Wyl chuckled before saying, "Let us seek a spot where I can demonstrate basic moves and stances."
I nodded and followed him to a relatively quiet spot nearby the settled camp. A part of me was eager to learn, because I knew that any weapon would be my shield in this world. A part of me was however had mixed feelings. I disliked violence but I was aware that fighting back was like a necessity to use as a last resort or when any alternatives couldn't be used. I prayed that the temptation to kill outside unavoidable situations in this world wouldn't occur as I knew that in the depths of my mind, picturing punishing bad people in a way that would make Faceless Arya proud, was something that easily came to mind. I thanked myself and God that it was only fantasies resulting from anger and of the sense of injustice from reading the books and watching the show. I winced while thinking it, reminding that it was a bit how Arya came on the path of faceless in the books and show.
As we prepared for the lesson, some of the guards who were not on the first night watch curiously watched as we positioned ourselves for the training session. Lady remained nearby, a calm and watchful presence that seemed to offer an unspoken reassurance.
Wyl began by demonstrating some basic stances and movements.
"Alright, Roger, let's commence wi' thy stance. Keep thy feet at shoulder's width, knees slightly bent, and thy body turned a tad to the side. This stance grants thee balance and nimbleness."
I mimicked his stance, feeling a bit awkward but determined to get it right. Wyl patiently corrected my posture, helping me adjust until I felt more comfortable. Then he moved on to the basics of hand positions and how to hold my hammer defensively.
As we started practicing some basic movements, I could feel the stares of some of the guards watching us. I was however focused on trying to get the movements right. Arya stood to the side, observing with interest and occasionally offering a playful comment.
I continued to practice under Wyl's guidance, gradually getting a better grasp of the hammer's weight and the movements required. It was a new experience for me, wielding a weapon, but I was determined to learn and improve.
Arya couldn't contain her excitement and playfulness. "Watch out, everyone! Roger is going to be the Hammer of the North!" she exclaimed, earning a few chuckles from the onlooking guards.
Embarrassed but amused, I grinned as I looked in Arya's direction, careful to maintain control. "I'll do my best, Arya. Just don't stand too close!" I replied in a lighthearted tone.
Wyl, ever patient and encouraging, offered tips and corrections as I practiced different strikes and defensive maneuvers. Lady was silently observing me, crouched on the ground.
The training session continued for a while, with the guards eventually dispersing to their respective duties. Over the course of the training session, I stumbled a few times, my lack of experience evident. However, I was determined to learn and improve. Wyl's guidance and Arya's encouragement motivated me to keep going, and I began to feel a bit more confident with each attempt.
As dusk was fading, the training session came to an end, Wyl stepped back and wiped his brow.
"You're doing well for a beginner. It's clear that you're eager to learn, and that's half the battle."
Arya chimed in with a playful grin. "Yeah, not bad for a knocking guy."
I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Thank you both. I know I have a long way to go, but I shall improve."
I felt exhausted and my muscle being tight. And yet, it was as exhilarating as when I was working with the peasants or helping the staff of Darry Castle. Not the mind exhaustion I felt when writing on a computer or surveying data on screen. And once again, I felt blessed to be free of Internet and screens, even if I would lie to claim I didn't miss writing as swift as a lighting stories and reflections or that I would need to learn how to write with a quill.
I carefully stored my hammer among my belongings, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite the stumbling and awkward moments during the training. Just as I was settling in, Harwin approached with a friendly smile, clearly having observed at least a portion of our training.
"Looks like you're putting in the effort," he commented, his tone a mix of approval and curiosity.
I nodded, a proud smile gracing my lips. "Definitely. It's challenging, but I'm determined to improve."
Harwin nodded, "Good. If you want to defend yourself fairly, you need to pursue your endeavor in the training."
I acquiesced to the wisdom of his words. I observed his men and noticed that while some were still on duty, others were beginning to gather around the fire.
"How long do we have before to eat?", I asked.
Harwin glanced toward the setting sun, gauging the time. "We have a little while longer before supper," he replied. "The men on duty will be relieved soon, and then we can all gather for a meal."
As if on cue, one of the guards approached, signaling the end of his shift. Harwin nodded to him, acknowledging his presence. "You're relieved, Errac. Take a moment to rest, and then join us for supper."
Errac offered a weary smile and a nod of gratitude before making his way toward the campfire, likely eager to partake in a warm meal and some well-deserved rest.
Harwin turned his attention back to me. "Would you like to freshen up before supper? There's a stream not far from here where you can wash and gather some water."
I nodded appreciatively, realizing that some water on my face and hands would be refreshing after the training session. "That sounds great. Lead the way, Harwin."
He gestured for me to follow him, and we made our way through the camp, past the bustling activity of the guards preparing for the evening meal.
The stream was a short walk away, its gentle babbling providing a soothing backdrop to the surrounding wilderness. Harwin showed me a secluded spot where I could wash up and refill my water flask.
As I knelt by the stream, splashing cool water on my face and feeling its rejuvenating touch, I couldn't help but appreciate the simplicity and natural beauty of this world. The absence of modern technology and the immersion in nature brought a sense of grounding and tranquility. I took a moment to enjoy the silence, the calmness and the fresh air of the evening. I let the exhaustion flowing through me. A part of me regretted not being able to wash myself. I looked at the stream, wondering for a short moment if refreshing my face and body could be a good idea. While my comfy side was tempted, my logical part was very vigilant and cautious as I knew that the water wasn't necessarily healthy enough for a little wash. In spite of this longing for some comfort, I was glad of this evening and even of this journey start. The bonds I was developing with Arya, Harwin and his men were good and pleasant and attenuated the longing for the people I loved to interact back home. My logical self was accepting this absence, reminding myself that relations were like shared travels: they went and they passed. But I dearly hoped that in spite of the nature of Westeros and of the incoming events, there would be some light and joy to find there.
A.N. :
And a new chapter for your eyes only ! Another stage in the journey to Winterfell with both interactions and new skills learnt for the SI and of course how he perceives his situation and the contrasts he is experiencing.
Thanks to the help and advices of the Beta reader, I included a depiction of the settlement of a night camp as it could have been done in Middle Ages and in Westeros.
You have noticed names that didn't exist in the books outside of Arya, Harwin and Wyl. Those are OC tied to some of the guards accompanying lord Stark to King's Landing as they were many nameless ones outside of Harwin, Alyn, Wyl and the other ones killed in the ambush by Jaime Lannister near Chataya's brothel in the books (and show). It was thus a necessity to create names in that matter. However, while there will be other OCs when it is necessary, many names and apparitions will be tied to characters appearing in the books, the show or in other media tied to the canon of both. You may guess when they would appear...
Originally, this chapter would have presented a bit more (the depiction of purifying water, the fork...), but it would have been too much for one chapter and I tend to have a "theatrical" approach to a chapter or to be more specific, a chapter is like a little story in its own and yet tied to a bigger picture (while also making them consistent and hopefully well-fleshed out). But fortunately, those little details tied to the SI's specificites as a modern man from Earth will be tackled in other chapters in one way or another while settling them in a consistent way as it is not the same thing to "introduce" for the first time something that other characters would discover and to introduce it when those characters are now more familiar (which can bring the challenge of consistency and of introducing in a "meaningful" manner those elements).
Teaser : the next chapter is an "interlude" depicting a merman discussion around a wolf's raven...
Have a good reading !