Viga Pyke impatiently dismissed the servant pouring her mead. The girl's height and simpering left much to be desired, and she usually spilled more drink than she poured. Viga had learned to place her cup on an empty table and walk away when it needed filling; otherwise, she would end up wearing whatever she wished to imbibe.

She sat, leaning her elbows on the table as she kneaded her temples with her fingers. Her beverage was already forgotten.

She simply couldn't figure it out. How in the name of the Gods had they lost 200 men in the last year and only replaced 90? She began to count on her fingers the number of jobs they had contracted and then listed in her head how many casualties each engendered, noting what dangers they had faced that led so many men to their ends. The death of men in her company didn't concern her. For various reasons, she had personally injured, maimed, or killed at least twenty of her comrades in her twelve years with the sellswords. No, it wasn't the loss of life that bothered her.

It was the loss of man power.

The Second Sons had once been one of the strongest, largest, and most talented bands of mercenaries in all of Westeros. Now, they were at best only fifth smallest, their talent had dwindled into a select few, and recruitment was getting desperate enough to sign on two bloody midgets and a feckless Ser.

She sighed in exasperation and slumped over the table. If she didn't determine a way to both bolster and retain their numbers with adept fighters, she may as well fall on her sword in the next battle. But she wasn't a coward, and as she began to lift her body from its defeated position on the desk, she felt strong, calloused fingers caress her neck.

Normally, this would be a reckless action, ending in pain for the man bold enough to touch her. However, his was a firm touch with which she was familiar.

"Mmmm, something must be on your mind. It's not often one can sneak up on the dreaded 'Manhood Slayer.'"

Uhlan's voice was warm and raspy. Soothing.

"I'm auditing our books. Our conscripts are dying faster than we can hold onto them, and I cannot for the life of me think of why. We haven't had the Bloody Flux in the camps yet, and our battles haven't been numerous lately. I'm not sure if we've simply been scraping the bottom of the barrel for new Sons and they're more useless than nipples on a breastplate or if they've been killing each other for sport since we haven't seen much action lately. I don't blame them. I'm often so bored lately I feel I could grievously injure the next person to vex me."

Uhlan laughed.

"Darling, you do injure the people who vex you, as I am sure our friend Bokkoko can attest. Perhaps you ought to stop fighting every man who tries to have his way with you."

Viga stiffened. She turned to him and sputtered, "That is... ludicrous, and I am disgusted that you would take their side."

Her glare was cutting, and her words were salt in the wound.

"I am not a man's plaything because I'm a woman. I have killed thousands of men in hundreds of battles, and I've lived to remember each one. I am as good as a man. Better, even, than many of them. " She pointed to the door.

"I have no use of you. Leave."

"But-"

"Remove yourself now. And do not force me to remind you of why I am no one's darling." A slight, glittering blade had appeared in her hand.

Uhlan grinned.

"As you wish. You know where to find me should you suddenly develop an... itch, let's say, that you'd like scratched," he said as he slid out of the dusty red tent.

"UGH." Viga slammed her knife into the table, burying it deep within the scarred wood. She felt she could combust in an explosion of frustration and anger. She stormed to the pile of linens in the corner near her pallet, furiously rifled through them, then stalked out of the tent, the spoils of her search in hand.

A/N: As promised, longer than the first, if only by a couple hundred words. Let me know what you think. How do you feel about Viga? Is she believable? Do you see her as a Mary Sue? (God I hope not. That temper!) Is the dialogue stilted? Were you able to picture the scene easily?