Daria on the Trail
Chapter 30: Ft Laramie Ready to Roll

DISCLAIMER: This story is more of a western than a swords-and-sorcery epic. I wrote it for fun, not for profit. I do not own either A Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. Nor do I own Daria Morgendorffer. The former belongs to GRR Martin and Daria belongs to MTV Viacom. This story based on the real Oregon Trail and has little or nothing to do with the computer game of the same name.

If you like what you're reading, please write a review!

Thanks again to HolyPaladin2 for the idea that inspired this fanfiction!

Advisory: Foul language.

Daria On the Trail*Daria On the Trail*Daria On the Trail

Daria's POV

Lieutenant Stokes walked me back to our campsite. Since it was still a day or two after Summer Solstice, there was still plenty of light when I arrived. Just as we reached the edge of our campsite, the Lieutenant asked me to stop for a moment.

"Colonel Wade told me to tell you that you've done the Army a great service with your presentation," he said.. "He said that we'll be much better prepared to salvage what we can from the airship wreck, no small thanks to your assistance. If there are any favors we can do for you, just ask."

"I am afraid that I would make some requests," I said. "I would like some more Emigrant clothing, but there is something more important I'd like to ask for. This sounds bizarre, but I'd like to trouble you all for some cabbage."

"Cabbage?" Lieutenant Stokes said incredulously. "Cabbage?"

"Cabbage," I said. "I am trying to do what I can to see that the Trouts eat properly and I'm worried that they're not getting a balanced diet. The Trouts were already down to flour and bacon when I met up with them at Chimney Rock and we still have months of travel ahead of us. I want them to be as healthy as they can be when we arrive at the Willamette. Good health is worth more than gold and rubies." A voice in my head told me sardonically that Mrs. Dickey back at Highland High would be so proud of me if she heard what I was saying. I ignored it.

Lieutenant Stokes gave me a strange look.

"I'd ask for gold and rubies if there were any well-stocked green-grocers out here, but there don't seem to be any," I added.

That was too much. Lieutenant Stokes started chuckling.

"I see your point," he said. "I'll see what we can do."

Together, we walked back to our tent. Kara and Jilla were cooking dinner while Captain Trout, Willem, and Kennard were socializing with some of the other guys. I introduced Lieutenant Stokes to Kara, Jilla, and Minti, and thanked him for walking me back. He smiled and thanked me, then he turned away to walk back to the Fort and his quarters.

Kara looked at me as if I'd missed something obvious.

"What?" I said.

"If I were you, I'd be tempted to remain here and be with him," she said. "He's interested in you and good husbands are hard to find."

"He is attractive, but I don't want to marry out here," I said. Not to mention that there's a war coming and God knows what will happen to him, I thought.

"Oh, Daria," Kara said, then sighed.

"Can I help clean up?" I asked.

"After dinner," said Kara. "I want you to tell us all about your trip to the Fort."

-(((O-O)))—

I had difficulty falling asleep that evening. Despite my doing some of the hard work of a Nineteenth Century Pioneer, our Company's stay at Fort Laramie had been a respite. I'd found trail life from Chimney Rock to be tough and I was all too aware that things were going to get a lot tougher in a couple of weeks.

Are you really tough enough for this, Morgendorffer, said a voice in my head. These people are a lot stronger and a lot more muscular than you are. They're used to hard work and tough conditions. You're not. Why don't you do the smart thing and stay here?

I owe the Trouts, I told myself. I'll have to see it through, or at least as far as I can get.

You'll die out here, said that voice in my head.

I think I'm just tough to survive, I thought. Narcissa Whitman was no farm wife. And I'm not stupid enough to cram my religion down the throats of people who don't want it.

Bury Me Out On The Lone Prairie, sang that sardonic voice in my head.

Shut up, I told it.

I exhaled. Well, if I died out here, I'd have company. Thousands of people had already died out on the Trail. We've already passed a couple of grave sites and there were many more to come.

I dozed off and then woke up again. Tomorrow or the day after, we'd be climbing Deep Rut Hill. There would be steeper grades ahead, especially on the Lander Trail, which diverged from the older route at someplace called the Ninth Crossing of the Sweetwater River. But while the Lander Trail had a lot of advantages over the earlier route such as having cleaner water, firewood, and reducing travel time by a week, it also had more grades and our company would have to cross two more mountain passes to come out somewhere near future Pocatello.

I'd also learned of Rocky Ridge. Rocky Ridge worried me more and caused me to think ugly thoughts about the authors and editors of the books I'd read in college about the trail. Rocky Ridge comprised nearly a mile of large rocks and boulders lying along the trail upward from the Sweetwater Basin.

I closed my eyes and prayed that I'd get some sleep. I hoped that I'd be able to doze off again but found out that I couldn't. Too much had happened. I'd probably stay awake all night.

I thought about Bethany Ann, the woman whose counterpart was my ancestress. She was a strong-willed, difficult woman with horrible opinions about slavery and equal rights. I didn't like her and I suspected that I wouldn't have liked her counterpart either. Her counterpart lived a long life and I could see why women in my family would continue to talk about her for years after she died. I suspected that if I'd stayed at the Fort we probably would have started quarreling in less than a week. Still, in spite of it all, I saw her as family and I couldn't help but respect the sort of woman who'd traveled all the way out from northern Virginia to come out here and be with her husband.

As for Marcus, I found that I liked him. I even liked him with Bethany Ann. He was the sort of man I could be friends with. But his counterpart had to die so Bethany Ann could marry again and bear the children that would eventually lead to Grandma Barksdale and my mother's side of the family. I worried that this world's history would parallel my own world's history and that Marcus would suffer the same fate as his counterpart.

Sometimes life sucked.

I dozed off again and then woke up when I overheard Kara moving quietly around the tent to wake her children.

Back to the drill, I thought. I yawned and rubbed my eyes, stretched, then got up. Today was going to be a busy day.

Orrick Trout POV.

Today was the day of our departure: we would leave Fort Laramie and begin our trek towards the mountains. It had now been over a week since our Company had arrived. It had been a momentous visit: Captain Ridge left the Company, we gained six new families, then made long-overdue repairs to our wagons and harnesses, then began reorganizing our outfits for the journey west. Finally, our wagons repaired, our animals rested, our outfits mostly reordered, we were in a lot better condition than when we arrived

I could think of plenty of things to worry about concerning the trail ahead: disease, accidents, snakebites, drownings and other perils. When we first arrived at the Fort, Daria had assured me that we wouldn't face Indian attacks. A couple of days later she said that she was mistaken: there had been some incidents along the Snake River Basin. I made some preparations: I'd taken those of us with firearms out to the Army's rifle range to test our marksmanship and find out who of us was most likely freeze up during a fight. Unfortunately, some of our best shots froze up under stress while some of our coolest ones couldn't hit the side of a barn at five paces.

There were some prerogatives of being captain of a wagon train: I need not move out on an empty stomach, so I joined my wife and family for breakfast. Daria still had some of her beans and we ate those with flat bread and bacon. After breakfast, Kara and the girls set to loading the wagon while I took Kennard and Willem to walk up and down the line of wagons to see how well our Company would shake themselves out and prepare for departure. I did not expect us to get off to an early start, nor did I plan to travel all that far this day. I'd already decided that we would camp at Register Cliff, about ten to twelve miles west of the Fort. We'd camp there and then go at our next challenge: climbing Deep Rut Hill.

I watched with satisfaction as our families began yoking their oxen, then moving our wagons to line up for departure. Those of us who'd left Westport when our company had been Thomas Ridge's did so with practiced ease. So did our new families. I thought we might have trouble with Parkhurst, but his man Joss did a satisfactory job at yoking up his oxen.

I walked up and down the line, taking note of the state of the wagons and the health of our oxen. I was pleased to see that most of our people had learned their lessons during our trip across the prairies: our wagons were closed up, the oxen yoked, and each party was ready to go. Some of us had discarded items, notably furniture, farm tools, and other things we would not need. Others had not. I suspected that we Westerosi had already learned to travel light while some of the Yankees still hoped to bring their treasures to the Oregon. I suspected that they'd be dumping them further along the trail.

I returned to our tent. We'd be leaving it here for the Mormons. While it would be nice to have along the trail, its weight would strain our animals and we'd be best off leaving it where we'd found it. I glanced around its inside and was relieved to see that Kara and the women had packed everything we'd take with us.

When I returned to our wagon, I found Kara and Daria talking to a couple of Yankee soldiers. Both of them were unfamiliar. One looked like an officer, the other was clearly a common soldier. I wondered what they wanted.

"Greetings," I said.

"Good morning," said the officer. "I'm Major Wiggins. I'm Colonel Wade's adjutant."

I looked at Daria. "Major is a military rank and Major Wiggins is Colonel Wade's second-in-command," she said.

"So what brings you to our camp-site, Ser Major?" I said.

"We have some farewell gifts for Miss Morgendorffer and I'd like to ask you for a favor," he said.

"What sort of gifts?" I asked.

"Some more clothing for Miss Morgendorffer and some cabbages," the Major said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Cabbages?" I said. None of us had had cabbage for weeks. We'd run out back at Fort Kearny, hundreds of miles to the east.

"Miss Morgendorffer asked for them," said the Major.

I looked at Daria to see if she'd taken leave of her senses.

"I'm worried about our diet," said Daria.

I still wondered about the girl's good sense but decided that it would be good to taste cabbage again.

"And what was the favor?" I asked.

"Some of my people tell me that you have experience both with caravanning with traders and with supply trains for the Rebel Army during King Robert's rebellion," he said.

"Yes?" I said.

"I would appreciate your writing me some letters as to how well you think one of, say, Lord Lannister's armies would fare crossing our continent on the Overland Trail," he said.

For a moment I was non-plussed. I took a deep breath and thought over Major Wiggin's request. Technically, it was treason. Tywin Lannister was a Lord Paramount and his daughter Cercei was Queen and his grandson Joffrey was now king. On the other hand, I'd heard the stories of Lord Lannister sending raiders into the Riverlands: they'd murdered my kin and threatened Rolf and his family. Moreover, I'd been released from my vows from my liege-lord before I'd gone through the arch.

Gods, help me decide, I silently prayed.

I had my answer in an instant. I knew not whether it was my own thought or a message from the Gods. "These are your new countrymen. You don't owe the Lannisters a damn thing."

I smiled. "I'll do it," I said.

"Thank you," said the Major. "I'd appreciate it." The Major then took his leave and started to walk back to the Fort.

"Cabbages," I said, shaking my head. I watched as Daria blushed.

-(((O-O)))-

It was time.

"Let's go," I said. A short time later, I had moved our wagon to the head of our line and we resumed our journey west, moving at our yoked oxen's' slow, leisurely pace.

We did not get far our first day out of Fort Laramie. We camped that night at a landmark the Yankees called Register Cliff. Register Cliff had obtained its name because it was customary for Emigrants to carve their names and dates on the cliff face's soft rock. Most Yankees carved their names and the date that they stopped here at a man's height or perhaps from atop a wagon bed, but we found a Yankee with a ladder that would allow us to carve our names even higher. He wished to charge us five dollars for the privilege of standing on his ladder to carve our names. At first, I was so incensed at his effrontery that I was going to tell him to go to one of the Seven Hells. After quietly talking it over with some of the other Westerosi families and with Daria, I relented. I discovered that Daria was as good a bargainer as any Riverland farm wife and together we bargained him down from five dollars to two and a couple of coppers.

Before dusk, Kennard and I carved a seven-pointed star upon the cliff face using Andal script and the dates: 299 After the Conquest and 1860 AD.

Author's notes:

Daria's request for cabbages may sound bizarre, but it actually is sensible: many western pioneers did suffer from malnutrition as their wagons rolled past the North American Continental Divide and passed into Idaho and the Snake River Basin, leaving them weakened and vulnerable to disease. Frontier military posts were at the end of long supply lines and had to be as self-sufficient as possible. Many of them had vegetable gardens producing food for the garrison and their dependents.

They rarely shared with passing wagon trains.

In years past, pioneers might have had a chance to buy more provisions at either Fort Hall or Fort Boise (both also being Hudson's Bay Company trading posts), but both forts were closed by 1860.

Ascorbic acid is good for you.