Chapter Two

Bravery is not the absence of fear but forging ahead despite being afraid.

-Robert Liparulo

"Finally!" She shouts as Rayen comes across a small dirt road after hours of wandering through the damn forest. As much as she loved being one with nature and all, she was not a nature girl! She loved her AC, her showers and her modern conveniences!

Inspecting both up and down the road gave her no additional clues as to which was the closest path to civilization. She shrugged and decided follow the road on the left. Maybe she'll hit a store and call a taxi to take her the rest of the way home. The first thing she'd do once she was home was take a shower. She continued on the road and sipped the fruity water from her jug as she went.

The park wasn't in a populated area and it should be the middle of the week, if her internal clock was correct. It wasn't that odd that the back roads weren't busy, everyone was likely at work. With a deep sigh, Rayen continued down her designated path with determination. The monotonous marching left her with little to do but let her mind wonder and her thoughts began to review the task list she would need to complete once she was home.

The lack of concentration caused her misstep and trip on the uneven earth. She tried to recenter her balance and her hands flung out to catch herself when she couldn't stop her forward momentum. A groan tore from her throat as her legs banged together and the injured skin ripped.

She could feel the bandages around her legs slowly growing damp. They would only stifle the bleeding for so long. Rayen needed to get to a store or phone before she passed out. She slowly pushes herself up and, after grabbing the scuffed jug, trudged up the uneven ground. She continues her staggering march forward in a pain filled daze.

After her calves started to become numb, Rayen knew she needed to take a break. The pins and needles sensation was radiating from her legs with each step and she can feel the crusted bandages pulling at her skin. She resigned herself to changing them before they caused the wounds to become infected or tear at her skin.

A few steps off the path, she found a large shaded oak tree to sit under. She slips off her pack and uses the tree to gingerly lower herself down to the ground. She unclips the flap holding the compartment closed and roots through it for the extra bandages from the old lady.

She struck gold when she found rolls of sterile gauze from her hospital in the bowels of the bag. You could never tell what was crammed in there since, once her shift ended, she would unloaded everything from her scrub pockets into it. She unwraps the gauze and saline from their packaging then sets them within arms reach. After fidgeting and placing the equipment in the correct order, Rayen huffed when she couldn't procrastinate any longer.

She rolls up the hem of her gowns and uses the saline to loosen the fabric before slowly unwinding the wrapping on one leg. The blisters probably popped during the fall and the fluid leaked onto the bandages. She acquired a new wound where her skin split during the clumsy episode. Fresh blood slowly dripped from the tear and she put pressure on the site with the old fabric. The bleeding stopped and she tied off the new gauze once she finished winding it around her burns.

Her other leg received the same treatment but it fared slightly better than the first. It seemed that only the blisters burst during the stumble. She dabbed at the clear yellow tinged fluid leaking from the blisters and applied the second roll.

Rayen put the dirty gauze in the hospital packaging and placed it into the outermost pocket for later disposal. Her hand snagged a chocolate protein bar from the pocket which she mechanically ate for lunch. Hooray for calories and sugar!

She continues to munch on her lunch bar when she begins to feel a low vibration from the earth under her. As the small quake quickly grew, she heard a faint rumble that swelled as the vibrations worsened. The shock grew so large that it reached deep into her and rattle her bones. There shouldn't be a fault line so close to here?!

Minutes pass before the quakes subside. She uses the tree for leverage to right herself up on the shivering ground. Rayen snags her pack and heads off to check out the surrounding area. As a nurse, she had to respond in an emergency and see if anyone needed assistance. She followed the dirt road for another 100 yards before she found the edge of the forest and the low constant rumble morphed into a deafening roar. The cacophony became sinister as she passed the last of the pines and onto a bloody battlefield.

The terrible noise stemmed from several dark mounds closest to her. The screams from man and beast mixed as it sliced through the air. Rayen's body halted as a large brigade on horseback cut through the army surrounding a small battalion of men. Even with the distance, she could see that the ground was stained red. The clang of metal against metal registered in the back of her mind and the shock muted the thoughts that slithered through, This isn't right. Those men are using swords, spears! They are wearing leather armor! What the hell is happening? She forcibly ignored it as she let the sight before her hold her undivided attention.

The hills had hundreds of people heaped atop one another. She could hear the agony from the men's screams that were buried and trapped under the weight. She could see the battered soldiers dying in front of her. Limbs were freshly amputated, entrails layed out from bodies, spears and arrows pierced through chests, blood hemorrhaging from wounds. She watched in dismay as the men on horseback slaughtered the soldiers with the red and white emblems on their chests. The tide seemed to have turned for the once trapped battalion as they fought back with the new brigade.

The impulse to rush towards the wounded fought against the basic instinct to run. Her body vibrated in indecision with her hands clenching and releasing. Should I go and possibly get hurt? Die? Hell no! I want to live! But… could I live with myself knowing that I could have helped and didn't? That I let someone die? After what felt like hours, she came to her decision and she darted toward the nearest mound.

She ignored the scarlet stains on her once white tennis shoes, the squish and the give to her steps. She focused on the closest man and the search for a pulse proved futile as she saw the man's abdomen cut open. His face forever carved in misery upon his death. Her stomach started to rebel at the site before her and she fought to keep the lunch bar down as she reached for the next man.

Each soldier died in anguish and excruciating pain. Most had already passed before she reached them. Others were on the verge of death and all she could do was be by their sides as they passed. Some were crying and babbling as their eyes lost their luster. She went through countless soldiers and hadn't found one yet that she could help. Her bloody hands shook as she staggered to the next mound.

She found a redheaded man unconscious on the stained earth with his legs pinned by corpses. Her eyes found several lacerations scattered on his visible body and a large knot on his forehead as she discovered a strong pulse at the base of his neck. His chest rose and fell in an equally rapid and shallow rhythm, which discounted a collapsed lung and he probably acquired broken ribs. Her hand reached to open his eyes when her head was pulled from behind by a strong grip in her hair.

A soldier with the white cross emblem had his blood caked paw wrapped around the low ponytail and used it to pull her away from the wounded man. Scared by the man's wild and wide gaze, she tugged at her hair and beat his arm.

"What are you doing? Let go! You're hurting me!" she screamed as she swung her fists. He only laughed as her hands hit the leather arm guards and her scalp was on fire from the force he was using to pull her hair. Twisting to see him, he watched with uncaring eyes and sneered at her as she shrieked. His sneer turned menacing as he raised his stained sword into the air. "Someone help me!"

I knew this was a bad idea! I freaking knew it! She grit her teeth and snarled at her capture as the gleaming metal began the downward swing towards her neck. None of these crazy bastards would help! They're all certifiable! She lashed out at his ankle with her better leg in a desperate bid for freedom.

Her foot knocked his together causing him to lose his balance and release her hair when he tried to remain standing. She tackled the man to the ground, sat her full weight on his chest and grabbed the neck to his loose leather armor with an opposing fist. Quickly, she shifted her weight forward, yanked back her elbows and the crossing of her arms pressed down on his neck.

The modified choke hold compressed his arteries causing him to blackout as the blood supply was cut off. To ensure that he would stay down, she kept the pressure of the hold and dimmy thought that she should thank Bjorn for his lessons in self defense.

Panting, Rayen sat back on the man's chest and reoriented herself to her surroundings. The horsemen and battalion had reduced the opposing armies' numbers considerably with only a handful of men trying to stave off the attacks. A breath from the body below her brought her back to own situation.

She knew that the man wouldn't stay unconscious for long and she needed to immobilize him somehow. The scabbard next to her thigh gave her a new idea. Lightbulb, raced through her thoughts as a grin spread. She wrestled her attackers belt off his waist, twisted the leather around his wrists and tightened it.

After surveying her work, she looked over to the unconscious redhead close to her and it seemed that he'd survived during her scuffle. She rushed to his side, found his strong pulse, and let out a sigh of relief. She hooked her hands under his arms and pulled his pinned legs out from the corpses. Her mind raced as she tugged his limp body away from the mound, rushing back to her assault and her lack of an adequate defense.

She doubled back to procure her attacker's sword and kept it close to her. None of these men could be trusted and she could try to protect at least this one man. Another loud shout caught her attention as a remaining spearman rushed at her and her self imposed charge. Raising the sword to mid chest with both hands on the pummel, she placed herself before the prone figure. She knew that the reach of the spear easily out did her sword, but she has to at least try to defend them. I have to be insane for doing this!

Rayen's body tensed in preparation for the upcoming attack as a bloody sword pierced through the spearman's abdomen. The sword was roughly jerked out from the dying body and an older man took his place before her as the spearman fell. The scruffy man was older, about her father's age, wearing a bloody brown robe and held the aforementioned sword in his hands. His steely gaze sized Rayen up as he kicked the spear away from the hemorrhaging man and stepped forward.

Fuckity fuck fuck! How am I supposed to deal with this?! Rayen bit her lip as her mind screamed at her and her sight focused solely on the threat in front of her. The man peered around Rayen, eyeing the wounded patient, and snapped back towards her. As he stepped forward, she moved her body to keep herself between the dangerous man in front of her and the redhead. Why am I doing this again?!

The man spoke lowly as he approached, speaking in a soft lyrical accent that she had trouble understanding. She was was so overwhelmed by the passing minutes hat she wasn't able to concentrate enough to understand what he was saying. She shook her head to rid herself of the tears building up in her eyes. She tightened her grasp on her sword's pummel as she shouted, "I don't know what your saying! I can't understand you! Leave us alone!"

The man tilted his head to the side and considered his options. Rayen firmly stayed between the old man and her charge with her sword raised. Her eyes darted to another soldier coming up beside her opponent. The soldier spoke to the old man him in the same accent and to low for her to hear. Both men were watching her intently with their eyes swinging back and forth between the redhead and her.

They were too interested in the man behind her! Either this is their friend or someone they really want to kill! The old man swung his free hand out, barring the younger soldier from getting closer to them. With eyes that never left hers, he slowly lowered his sword to pierce the ground and held his hands out in a placating manner. Only then did he take another small step towards Rayen.

"Don't come closer!" She shouted as she backed up from the advancing man. She had no doubt in her mind that he had another weapon hidden in the billowy folds of his robes and she doesn't know if he was an ally or enemy. Her retreating foot nudged the wounded man's chest and he groaned in pain. The worry that she was wrong about his ribs, that they had punctured his lungs when she moved him, urged her to take a quick glance at him.

And that was when the old viper struck.

—

Ser Davos was perplexed, how did a girl get onto the battlefield? Her gown was covered in blood, suggesting that she had been here for some time. He could tell she was terrified by her wide eyed gaze and the trembling hands holding an unsteady sword. As much as his gentlemanly manners told him to help her, she had Tormund behind her and a weapon in her hands.

"That is my ally behind you. Let me come and see to him." Davos ensured that his voice low and calm as he beckoned. He could see the drag marks on the ground that the girl left when she pulled Tormund away from the mountain of corpses. He could see Tormund's chest rising as he breathed, but he was concerned as Tormund was a hardy man and not one to stay down after an injury.

The girl spoke back to him in the rough accent that took him a moment to process. Immediately, he knew that the girl was in a shocked haze, she couldn't discern whether or not he was an enemy. It was a common experience after a boy's first battle.

With his attention diverted he hadn't heard before Mormont soldier's approach. "Ser, the last of Bolton's men have been rounded up and restrained. Lord Snow has recaptured Winterfell and Ramsey Bolton has been detained," he rasped before eyeing the girl in front of them. "Do you want me to take care of this Ser?"

Ser Davos was surprised by Jon's actions. He knew that there was a high chance that Jon would kill Ramsey before this skirmish ended, considering what he had done to Lady Sansa. Jon was a generally benevolent Lord and would normally restrain his enemies rather than killing them, but he was still a man that protected what was his and Ramsey Bolton was a threat to what was his. Perhaps there was another reason why Lord Snow let him live?

Davos shook his head and drew out his arm to prevent the Mormont from advancing further. The girl was skittish enough as it was and, with her unsteady hands, a danger to herself and Tormund. "Don't spook the girl. You could get either of them killed," he chided. Anyone untrained holding a weapon was as dangerous as a soldier, mostly to themselves but he didn't want to risk Tormund. Jon seemed to confide in the man and he was a respected leader of the Wildlings. It would be troublesome to lose him now.

Ser Davos stuck his sword into the loose dirt beside him, raised his hands towards the girl and took a hesitant step forward. She shouted at him again, clearly frustrated and scared. Each step he took towards the duo caused her own to retreat. He would have to be patient and wait for an opening before disarming her.

The opportunity came when she tapped Tormund with her retreating foot. The foolish girl glanced at him when he groaned and Davos propelled into action. He rushed towards the girl and swatted the sword out of her hold. She screamed as he grabbed her wrists and held her still. She attempted to kick him and struggled against his grasp, yanking her hands downward to free them. The girl yelled and screamed as she fought against his grasp.

"Mormont, check Tormund while I deal with her!" He shouted as he restrained the girl against his chest. She was a tiny thing, barely coming up to his collar. She quieted down as he watched Mormont go to the Wildling.

With his attention elsrwhere, the girl bashed the back of her skull against his chin. She smashed the heel of her foot against the instep of his and forced her elbow into his abdomen all the while she screamed at him to let her go. Davos managed to recapture one of her wrists as she reached forward towards the Wildling. She turned around and spat more words at him as she snarled. Her free hand fisted as it rushed towards his face and he barely able to ensnare it before contact.

"You will stop this and be quiet! We are not going to harm you or Tormund," he shouted. He had enough wounds from the fight and did not wish to add more from this puny girl. He held her still as the Mormont checked on the redhead.

"He seems to be alright, Ser. No major injuries that I can see. I'll take him back towards the manor for a healer to look at." Mormont slung the Wildling over his shoulder and looked back questioningly. "Do you wish for me to send another to help you with her?"

"If I can't handle a girl, I wouldn't have made it through the last battle," Davos scoffed. "I will deal with her on my own." The Mormont man nodded proceeded towards a herd of remaining war horses. He slung the man over the rump of one and rode towards Winterfell.

Thankfully, the girl had quite her caterwauling after seeing that Mormont or he would not hurt either of them. Even though she barely understand him, he kept his voice low and even as he said, "I am going to let you go. Do not hit me or go for a weapon. It will not end well for you." He squeezes her wrists once more before releasing them. The girl quickly backed away from Davos while rubbing the delicate structure.

She kept him firmly in her sight while she eyed the remaining battlefield. The men from the Veil were leading a procession of prisoners towards Winterfell. Others were moving toward the mounds and sorting out the dead and injured. The wounded would need to be taken via wagon back to the fortress. The dead would have to be burned least they become fodder for the Night King.

Davos knew he would be needed at the fortress for regrouping and strategizing. The thought of leaving this girl alone and out in the wilderness kick started his gentlemanly manners. It was clear that she didn't know how to defend herself and that her companions had left her either to run when they saw the battle or to wait and loot once the knights left. He sighed as he pictured his little Shireen being in the place of this girl. Sheathing his sword he said, "Follow me, girl."

He stalked towards the herd of horses and, when he didn't hear footsteps, turned to inspect the young woman again. "Come." He added emphasis to his word as he gestured from the girl to himself.

The girl eyed him and slowly made her way towards him. She stopped just out of arm's reach and waited for him. He nodded and proceeded toward the herd. Davos caught the reigns of two horses and ripped the Bolton's banner off the chestnut. "Saddle up." He pointed from her to the saddle.

Her mouth gapped as she looked at the large horse. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh as she nodded her head. She grabbed the saddle's horn and lifted herself up, at least she attempted too as the pack on her back unbalanced her. After two misses, she finally got herself up on the horse and resettled her gowns around her legs.

Davos nodded and vaulted himself up the black mare. He faced her once more and enunciated, "Follow me." He waited for her acknowledgement before snapping the reins and heading towards Winterfell at a slow pace. It was obvious that the girl had minimal experience riding. He periodically glanced over his shoulder to ensure that the girl remained close while they marched, otherwise he was silent as he organized his thoughts of the upcoming work.

—

AN: And there you have it! There are a few hidden Easter eggs in this work. I hope it was an enjoyable chapter for you all.

Please read and review! I look forward to them and wish to grow as a writer! Critiques are welcomed.