Daria On The Trail Chapter 16:Yes She Speaks Andal
DISCLAIMER: I do not own either A Song of Ice and Fire or A Game of Thrones. Nor do I own Daria Morgendorffer. They belong to their respective owners.
This story is based on my research on the real Oregon Trail, not on the computer game of the same name. In my opinion, the characters from the computer game would have stood much better odds if they'd traveled in larger wagon trains, used more oxen, and packed more food.
I am writing this story for my own amusement and ego gratification, not for profit. If you like what you're reading, please post a positive review.
Daria On The Trail*Daria On The Trail*Daria On The Trail
"Do you have any other talents?" asked the Colonel.
"She says she speaks Andal," said Lieutenant Potter.
"Do you indeed?" said the Colonel.
"I believe I do, sir," Daria replied. "I can certainly converse with the Trouts and a few of the other Westerosi headed west."
"What do you think your friends know about the situation in Westeros?" the Colonel asked.
"I suspect that what Mr. Trout's family knows about the current situation in Westeros is old news. They left Westeros ten months ago and spent the rest of last year and this spring in Missouri. A lot has happened since then. From what Mr. and Mrs. Trout tell me, they saw the war clouds forming, sold their old farm, then got out. They were first in Westport and then near Saint Louis when things really started getting bad on the other side of the Arch. I do know they're glad that they're on this side of the Arch and that they have no intention of going back. They might be able to tell you about some of the major players, where some of the important rivers and towns are, and which lord used to control what."
"Used to control?" said the Colonel.
"Things can change, particularly during a war," I replied.
The Colonel looked at me and said nothing. He sat in his chair thinking over what I'd said and no doubt thinking of his next line of questioning. I decided to see if I could give him a nudge in the right direction.
"Colonel, if I may, I would suggest getting someone who'd left more recently, perhaps a refugee who decided to come through the Arch in April or May," I said. "They'd know more about what happened in Westeros since last September than the Trouts would."
The Colonel looked thoughtful. "A good suggestion, Miss," he said. "But regardless of your suggestion, there remains your claim that you speak Andal. I think it needs to be tested."
"Lieutenant," he said.
"Sir," Lieutenant Potter replied.
"Please escort Miss Morgen… What did you say your last name was again?"
"Morgendorffer, Colonel," I replied.
"Escort Miss Morgendorffer to the laundry," the Colonel said to Potter. "See if her claim is valid."
"The laundry, Sir?" said Potter.
"The Laundry," said the Colonel. "If Miss Morgendorffer is anything like those airmen who turned up or is merely a con-artist, she'll survive her ordeal. Report back to me about her fluency."
I watched as Potter turned red. Did any of the laundresses speak Andal? It would seem that at least one of them might. But what was it about the laundresses that was freaking out young Potter?
"Sir?" said Potter.
"You heard me, Lieutenant. On your way," said the Colonel.
Potter braced to attention, saluted, then turn away from the Colonel. I followed him out.
"Well, how did it go, Potter?" said the adjutant.
"The Colonel ordered me to escort Miss Morgendorffer to the laundry," Potter replied.
The adjutant eyebrows raised.
"Good luck, Potter," he said. "And to you, too, Miss."
My eyebrows raised at the adjutant's response. We exited the building and started walking across the Parade Ground.
"What is it about the Laundry?" I said.
"You'll see," he said.
We reached the laundry a little later. The sight of clothes drying in the wind, the scent of soap, and soapy mud-puddles touched familiar chords in my memories. I might have found it reassuring if it didn't make me think about my increasingly smelly clothing and my desperate need of a bath. I saw some movement: someone's hem and shoes moving on the other side of some shirts and trousers hanging on the clothes lines.
"Good afternoon, ladies," said Lieutenant Potter, switching from English to Andal.
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant," said whoever-it-was on the other side of the clothesline. She didn't come over immediately: instead she continued to hang more laundry on clotheslines. The lieutenant decided to move closer, walking around the end of the clothesline.
The woman was still hanging up clothing: shirts and trousers by the look of them. She finished hanging up her clothing, then turned to look me over.
"So who is this, Lieutenant, some popsy that fell off a wagon?' said the laundress. "Or have you found your truelove? Is that why you're showing her the sights?"
Bloody unlikely, I told myself.
"I wasn't planning to marry him," I replied. "I take after my mother. My mother doesn't believe in hour-long courtships."
The laundress started in surprise. She had not expected me to reply in Andal. "By the Seven, she speaks Andal!" she said. "Who are you?"
"My name is Daria Morgendorffer," I said. "I am a traveler headed to Oregon."
"Oh and I thought that young Potter had finally found his life-mate," said the laundress. "So where are you from, girl?"
"I am from Maryland," I replied. "It's a state on the other side of the Great River and the eastern mountains."
"So what are you doing here?" she said.
"I was alone out on the Trail and the Trout family took me in and gave me Guest Right," I replied. "I decided to repay them by helping them get to Oregon."
"What will you do there?" she asked. "Are you trying to spread the faith of the Three-In-One God?"
"Not likely," I said. "My father is Jewish."
The woman looked puzzled. "Jewish?" she said.
"The Jews do not believe in the Holy Trinity," I said, congratulating myself for having learned the Andal word for "Trinity." Learning that word had been a pain. "They believe that there is only one God. I want to stay out of any religious quarrels."
"So you have some good sense, even if you are taking the Western Road," she said.
"Well, a lot of people have taken the Oregon Road and lived to tell about it," I replied.
"And a lot of people have died on it too," the laundress said bitterly. "I should know. My husband and child died on the road from the shitting disease."
What could I say to that? The best I could do was to look down for a while, then say "I'm sorry for your loss." I replied.
She gave me a look that said that I wasn't a total jerkette, then said "Thank you." She then opened her arms and we hugged.
A minute or so later, a girl—woman, actually—came out of the laundry and said "Mum?". I saw her face and my jaw dropped: dark black hair, blue eyes, achingly-familiar jaw and cheek-bones. She could almost be Rikka's older sister. I ran some fast mental calculations using what the Trouts had told me about the Westerosi calendar. She was old enough.
The laundress saw my expression, looked at me in defiance and said "This is my daughter Ruth."
I didn't know if Cersei and Joffrey had started murdering King Robert's bastards but decided to opt for caution. "I greet you in the name of God the Father," I said. "My name is Daria Morgendorffer."
"So what are you doing here?" she said.
"Lieutenant Potter wanted to see if I spoke Andal and I'm looking for a proper Emigrant's dress," I replied.
"You speak it better than most of those religious pests and you're best off picking through one of the dumping sites," said Ruth.
"Thank you," I replied. "Can you tell me which dump site is most likely to have one?"
"It varies," said Ruth. "Try one of the ones about two and half miles west of the Fort."
"I've tried those," I replied.
"You probably didn't walk far enough," said Ruth. "Try one of the ones further away."
"Thanks, I'll do that," I replied.
Ruth then turned her attention to Lieutenant Potter, who hadn't said much of anything. She glared at him, then said "She speaks Andal, and she speaks it better than you do. Stop wasting our time unless you want crabs in your underwear."
I grinned. The seed was strong. My suspicions had just changed to near-certainty.
Author's notes: My other Daria/A Song of Ice and Fire crossover covers the adventures of Myrcia "Rikka" Morgendorffer, the Morgendorffers, and Rikka's adventures in a universe where many of Robert Baratheon's illegitimate children were brought over from Westeros to the US back in the late 1990's. Daria learned to speak Andal from Rikka's siblings, some of their mothers, and a ghostly Robert Baratheon.
I should add a caveat: those kids (And Robert's ghost) are from an alternate-universe Westeros, not the one in this story.
