Hayffie prompt: a game of thrones au ((read one briefly on archive and wasn't continued)) but yeah, I'll leave the rest up to you but it would be awesome!

Prompt: Game of Thrones style, with Effie and Haymitch :) You can decide whatever you want to do with their story :)

A Quest

Life as a hedge knight was not at all what it was cut out to be.

There was no glory to find there, no proud deeds splendid enough to go down into songs, not even the acclaimed thrill of adventures young boys often dreamed of.

Life as a hedge knight, those days, consisted mostly of being frozen to the core on a wash-up horse that struggled in a thick coat of snow all day long and avoid the different troops that sought to make the kingdom theirs.

Haymitch might have been knighted so long ago he could barely remember it but he wasn't interested in hopeless wars. He had been through enough of them on his own.

No, he mused, as the winding road slithered and turned in front of him under the moonlight, everything coated in white, he was done with hopeless wars, broken oaths and any misplaced sense of honor. All he really wanted was to reach the next inn and drown his memories in ale.

He wasn't surprised when he spied the scuffle down the path, thieves and swindlers were now the norms on the roads. When the great houses would be done deciding who should be king, there would be no one left in the kingdom to reign upon. Three bandits, he estimated, surrounding a lone cloaked figure on a horse.

Haymitch was duty-bound to help, of course, that was what the knighthood was about, yet he had stopped caring about that a long time ago. All he wanted was a drink in peace and if that meant a detour through the woods to reach it, then so be it. May the Old Gods be in that poor guy's favor, he would need it.

He was about to guide his horse to the edge of the road before the robbers got sight of him when the animal they were surrounding reared back. The cloaked figure fell to the ground amidst the loud peal of laughters, the hood slipped and Haymitch spied long blond hair – and terrified blue eyes. There were more whistles and laughter as the men realized they had caught a woman.

Haymitch was sure her fate would have been kinder if they had simply shot an arrow in her back.

One of the man walked closer and she crawled back, almost getting trampled by her horse in the process.

Haymitch turned away and forced his horse into the wood.

Then she screamed.

He rolled his eyes, unsheathe his sword and spurred his horse. The animal didn't like it much more than he had liked the days of traveling in the snow but it was a good horse and it did as Haymitch ordered him to. The men weren't expecting a fight and even if they had been, they weren't skilled enough to match him. He was rusty but he had been the best once and that accounted for something.

Soon enough, the snow was dark with blood. It sickened him. He didn't want to kill anymore. He turned to the woman who was still sitting there, stunned but otherwise unhurt. Her horse had run away which was bad news but it wasn't Haymitch's problem. He had saved her once, it was more than he bothered with anyone else.

She really had very pretty eyes.

"Aren't you going to help me up, ser?" she asked at last. He had been expecting a thank you but, clearly, that was far stretched.

"You got two feet and two hands. You can manage, sweetheart." he sneered.

Her eyes widened at being addressed with such casualness but, still, she huffed and stood up. Her cloak parted enough to reveal a dark red dress and a lion heads belt.

"A lion from the Rock." he spat. That was just his kind of luck… Doing the honorable thing for once and saving a Lannister. He was certainly not taking sides in the ongoing war but there were no love lost between him and the Lannisters. He used to be sworn to the Starks once upon a time.

She looked up at him warily and drew the cloak tighter around herself. "I haven't been a Lannister for a long time. Although my husband is dead now…"

"Lots of people's spouse are dead." he snorted. "That's what happen when you start a war."

"I didn't start any war." she replied, folding her arms over her chest – to keep warm or to strike a pose, it was anyone's guess. "My people's husband threatened to kill me, I had to run away like a thief in the night. How is that normal?"

"They say dead men are walking on the other side of the Wall. Normal is overrated these days." He shrugged. "Well… Good luck with your running away."

She grabbed the horse's reins before he could get away.

"You can't leave me here!" she exclaimed. "That is not chivalrous. You have to help me."

"Lady, I don't have to do anything." he grumbled. "And in case it escaped your notice, I already helped you."

"I will freeze to death!" she begged. "At least, help me find my horse…"

She looked so desperate, he cursed inwardly. The eyes, he blamed the eyes. She was too pretty for her own good, she would end up raped and killed.

"The horse is gone." he sighed. "I can take you to the next inn."

It was fair enough. He would take her to the next inn where he could finally have a drink and then she wouldn't be his problem anymore. He held out his hand, hoping the horse would take their weight because he certainly wasn't going to trudge in the snow while she sat comfortably on top of his stead. He wasn't chivalrous to that extent.

She remained standing there, shivering in the snow.

"Well, hop up." he snapped, annoyed.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head with irritation. "Your manners, ser, are truly appalling. Do you figure a noble lady would go anywhere with a stranger? You need to introduce yourself."

Was that woman real?

There she was, getting attacked by bandits, getting stranded in the middle of nowhere, shivering, and she wanted to play it by the rules?

"I'm the man who will take you to the next inn." he retorted. "If that's not enough credentials for you…"

He retracted his hand. She rushed for it.

Her fingers were delicate and one of her rings dug into his palm when he hauled her in front of him on the horse. She was sitting like a lady should but the saddle wasn't meant for that. The lack of room made it as uncomfortable as the feeling of a woman pressed against him. It had been too long.

She kept her eyes downcast. He wasn't so sure she was shivering from the cold anymore, perhaps she was afraid. He was certain that for a woman who probably didn't have to worry about anything from birth, finding herself alone on the road in the middle of the night with a stranger couldn't have been pleasant.

"Haymitch Abernathy." he relented, taking pity of her. "Hedge knight."

She looked up and forced a smile on her lips. "Lady Euphemia. I would curtsy but…"

"Yeah, better not." he snorted, spurring the horse forward. She clutched his cloak in her hand when it started moving, her other hand moving to his thigh to keep her balance. She snatched that one away really fast but she kept hold of his cloak.

"Are you on a quest?" she asked curiously.

"Sure." he lied. Finding good ale had become a real hassle nowadays, he was certain it could be considered a quest. Then something else dawned on him, making him grunt in displeasure. "You said your husband people wanted you dead… Are they going to come after you?"

She seemed to curl up on herself, she bit her lower lip. "I am unsure. They declared themselves for the Starks after my husband's death."

He urged the horse off the road and through the woods. No sense in tempting the devil, he didn't fancy another fight.

Of course, he realized much later, once they had reached the inn and it was full of northmen… The devil had been sitting on his horse all along and Haymitch had already given up to the temptation.

Want it or not, he now had a new quest : keeping her alive.