Dusk came. The sky turned an ombre of orange and purple like the flowers in the fields back at their home. In the distance, the blue summer mist which reminded the small boy of the girls dresses back in Braavos shone. But Nymeria still lay looking otherwise lifeless, had it not been for the subtle rising and falling of her chest.
Ramsey knelt over her, unknowingly putting pressure on the most fatal wound, as he cried. He had never shopping hugging his mother, begging for her to wake up. The dismembered and rotting bodies surrounding him didn't make him twitch in the slightest, and he had stared at them, for a long while before giving into his childish nature and weeping for his mother.
"Who goes there?" A sudden voice reached out in the approaching darkness. There was movement in the trees causing Ramsey to gasp and almost run back to his hiding place. But he couldn't leave his mother, their bond tied him to his side. And so he waited, until three horses pushed through the trees.
Silence greeted them, but the one at the front spotted the pair first, his dark eyes growing wide at the sight.
"No." To Ramsey, they looked just like the other men who had come and chopped his mother down. "Stay back." A man with almost black hair, tied at the nape of his neck, dismounted his horse and nodded at the boy slowly.
"Easy boy… we mean no harm to you…" He was dressed in down brown leathers and a fur cloak, his face was sharp but he raised his hand slowly to show he half no weapons. But then his focus turned to the woman, lying too still for his liking with a pool of blood drying under her. "Is this your mother?" His eyes returned to the young boy, who nodded instantly. "What is your name?" The man came to kneel in front for the boy, by his mother's side.
"Ramsey." It came out a small mutter.
"My name is Benjen." There was no offer of a handshake or anything which may have startled the boy more, instead the ranger waited for the boy to meet his eyes before continuing. "You're a brave lad Ramsey. How old are you?"
"Four." Ramsey answer, a little louder, already becoming calmer with the stranger. "Is my mother going to be alright?" Her breathing had slowed by the hour, but being in a strange land with no one to call for, he had been forced to sit by her side and wait for her to awaken, if she was ever to awaken.
"Is that your horse?" Benjen nodded towards the untied mare behind them. Ramsey nodded. "You know how to ride?"
"Not on my own."
"Very well, go get your horse while I see to your mother. Then you can ride with me." Benjen gave a small, straight smile as the boy ran to fetch the horse, pulling on its reins as his mother had showed him. But the smile didn't remain as he truly looked over the woman's injuries for the first time. Her whole torso was blood soaked, as was her face and hair from where the boy had stroked her cold skin.
"Is she dead My Lord?" She wasn't, but it was a miracle that she was alive. There was no telling how long they had both been out here for.
"No… but she could be soon." The raven haired ranger to a second to look from her injuries and around them at the five lifeless men laying around her in a circle. How had such a small female managed to cut them down on her own…and with a child nearby? Of course she was injured, but she should've been dead. "Two of you see to the bodies, try to have them identified and then burnt. Glynn, and I will take this one and the boy back to the castle." The men nodded and began to move, as Benjen looked over the woman's form once more and then moved his arms under her.
"Don't hurt her." Benjen looked at the boy who had rejoined them, once he had stood with the woman lying limp in his arms. She weighted no more than blanket it seemed, but she responded to his body heat turning in to be closer.
"You have my word boy." Ramsey's eyes still twinkled with tears. "You will ride with Glynn, and I'll make sure your mother stays safe." He nodded again, and allowed the other ranger to lift him onto the front of his horse as Benjen did the same with Nymeria, although admittently she was handled with a lot more care.
"Where are you taking us?" As they set off across the field in an easy, yet quick, trot, Ramsey spoke out loud hoping one of the men would answer. He didn't know who they were, or what they are. By the way they dressed they looked like some of the soldiers he sometimes saw around the docks of Braavos but there was no telling for sure.
"You see that castle?" The man who's horse he rode on was the one to answer.
"My mother said it was Winterfell. The largest castle in the north." He didn't see the man's proud smirk or his nod of approval, only heard his voice over the harsh galloping of hooves.
"Your mother was right. And that's where we are going."
They rode through the South Gate of Winterfell, into the large courtyard where multiple people were gathered. All of them either busy getting on with their daily duties, or awaiting the rangers return so they could continue with their own work.
"Fetch the Maester." Benjen called out to one of the stable boys, waiting to take the horses. He gave a brief 'Yes my lord' and then scampered off further into the castle. "Notify Lord Stark we have returned." That was the order he gave to a by standing handmaiden, who in turn curtsied and then skipped into the castle to find her lord, holding her skirts up from the mud as she did so.
As Benjen lifted Nymeria down from the horse, she awoke ever so lightly. With her eyes only opened as narrow slits, she watched him for a couple of seconds before melting back into his hold on her and sighing.
"You are safe now." He whispered to her, pushing her hair back from her face as soft as he possibly could as to not make any invisible injuries worse. She was beautiful…in the foreign way. Her skin was lightly tanned and that was something which could not have been achieved this far north, especially when it was still only Spring. Her hair dark, but lightened in places by the harsh sun, and fell in loose soft waves to frame her oval face. The woman was mysteriously harsh looking, seeming to frown at him even in her slumber. Her lips did not pout like fair maidens, neither did her hands looks smooth – but rough like worker's mitts. Yet, dirty and covered in drying blood, she was striking.
Coming out of his near trance, Benjen looked around himself. Some of the residents of Winterfell were watching the scene, quizzical eyes trying to see the damage done to the girl. Some were whispering and some continued to go about their day as if this was all normal.
"Take the boy to the Great Hall to wait for Lord Stark." Benjen commanded as the young boy of four was lifted down from the large stallion and all the horses, including Nymeria's own, was led away to be tended to.
"I want to stay with my mother." Ramsey tried to stand up to the man, but as soon as he stood at his full height the boy cowered and stumbled back. He was no threat, but the boy had never seen such a man, never mind interacted with one.
"Your mother will be safe. But she needs to be seen by the Maester." It was no place for a boy to see his mother being sown, bathed and treated. In the corner of his eye, he could see the Maester waiting by the entrance of his tower and so he bowed his head and swiftly walked away. "You will be fetched for once she is resting."
Benjen walked away, leaving Ramsey to the handmaidens who ushered him indoors. The woman was light in his arms, her mouth opened slightly as a faint breath left through her lips. Her breeches were torn, as was the top of her shirt. For it not yet being summer, she did not wear much protection from the biting cold which still lingered. No trinkets or jewels adorned her wrists of delicate fingers, no signs of where she came from or who she was. Just a blank slate, cut open and left to die.
"She is in quite a state." The Maester spoke, drawing Benjen from his interrogative stare as he laid her on the table to be looked at.
"There were five men lying around her…and I do not think they were here friends." For there being five males, she barely had a scratch on her. It should have been a lot worse. How something so innocent, no matter how stern looking, could have decapitated a man and speared another was a concerning puzzle.
Draped in his wool grey robes, Maester Luwin, fetched a vile of Milk of the Poppy and a bottle of strong wine to clean the wounds. "She is strong and she is fighting." They both looked to her chest which was still rising and falling evenly, although not as often as it should be. "Hopefully you were not too late."
"How old is she?"
"From first appearances and taking into account the child's age?" From her face, to her toes to the flat appearance of her stomach and strong build. She was not a weak one, nor was she built like an Ox. The woman was not young enough to be considered a child herself, but not old either. "She cannot be any older than yourself. Possibly two and one." Looking up, he caught the hint of a small smile which was even unknown to Benjen, pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You must leave while I tend to her." Maester Luwin spoke louder, smirking as he asked the young Lord to leave.
"I must speak with my brother." He looked to the door and then back to the table, hesitating momentarily. "Send for me, should anything happen."
"Of course my Lord." The Maester then set to work on the poor girl, removing each item of clothing carefully and patching up the wounds. None of them were as bad as they first seemed after being cleaned to stop infection from spreading. All of them apart from the gash across her chest. A seven-inch-deep cut would have to be stitched up in order for it to heal, and it would scar, but the girl would live. That was the important thing.