Arthur
A Lannister battalion was reaching the encampment today, led by Gerion Lannister, who had brought Jaime Lannister along.
Azalea was coming out of the healing tent with a completely red-faced Knight from the Crownlands behind her steps.
Whent gave her a questioning look, and she only rolled her eyes in response, "It is almost like men forget women fuck and piss too."
Arthur almost dropped Dawn. He knew she could be crass, but…
Well, he still could not hold back the amusement that came to him.
"Oswell, I want them found, today," She handed him the list of three female names. Arthur knew them as the whores delving around the main camps.
He got a signal from the front of the encampment that a party was approaching.
"I think the Lannisters are here," He informed Azalea, who started walking beside him.
"Let's greet them then, shall we?" Her hand casually went back to the pummel of the sword that hung at her side.
She proceeded to scold a group who were drinking cold water, "Boil the goddamn water, Prewin. I shouldn't need to nag you like a harpy."
Changes in the camp were afoot. This was a major one. Everyone consumed boiled water. So, you could cool it after boiling, but clean and safe drinking water meant boiling it and consuming it in a short period.
There was a standard routine of bathing posted for each group of soldiers with soap, despite the cold. Hygiene was necessary.
"Oh, you will thank me when you do not get ill, my nose can take the stink, I am sure your bodies cannot take the filth." She had muttered with a face when dictating the changes she wished.
There had been some grumbling. A lot of grumbling actually.
It quieted down the next time Valor flew down with some supplies from the capital.
The supplies helped. But more than that, the reminder of a dragon behind the queen sort of quelled any discontent.
Not to mention that Umber had completely recovered from the injury of his leg, which Maester had said might need to be cut off.
Azalea had not scoffed. Barely. And proceeded to put him on a regime. Umber was very much on the mend, without the amputation.
Stories like that spread through the camp, so if the Queen could save someone from the amputation, then soap and bathes, and boiling water might be worth the pain.
Of course, there were those who did skimp out on the minutia. They heard it from her like Prewin.
Azalea remembered the names of most soldiers in the camp. That aided the fear they had of her. She was unlikely to forget a guffaw if she could beckon them with a finger, recognizing their name, face, and Lord.
It was not surprising that Prewin got knuckled by his companions and the water immediately put on the fire.
Valor was making supply runs. Timber, Leather, and Meat. The fires roared; the food was never short. A well-fed and warm army was an agile, loyal army.
"Ser Gerion," Azalea breached protocol by greeting him first, not really falling into the posturing about getting a formal oath or things or even an acknowledgment.
Of course, that made the entire Lannister party kneel down, except the leader.
Gerion Lannister gruffly said, "Your grace."
He looked like he had eaten sour lemons. Arthur got the distinct impression that this man did not like Azalea.
"Lord Whent is the steward of the camp, and he should be able to settle your troops in. He will fill you in on the rules of the encampment." Azalea was all business. She had likely picked up on it and was ignoring it blatantly.
"Rules," Gerion Lannister muttered with blown eyes, very disgruntled.
"It helps in the administration." Azalea gave a genial smile, not daunted in the least, "Now, where is Jaime?"
This made Gerion Lannister raise a brow and mutter soundlessly, "Jaime?"
"Your grace," Jaime's greeting was full of warmth, and Azalea filled the distance between them and enclosed him in a one-armed hug on the side, ruffling his hair, "Heir Lannister, I did say you would see me soon. I hope you have brought those pickled fish from Lannisport."
"I have. I had to save them from Uncle's greedy hands, but I have them." Jaime said, all smiles.
Gerion's neck was going like a pendulum back and forth between his nephew and the Queen as if he could not understand.
Arthur had sympathies. He also would have been blindsided if he had not been a witness to the voracious letter exchange between Azalea and Jaime.
"We will have to share with Arthur. I promised him some. Rhaegar seems to not like them so much." Azalea started chatting normally with him, taking him inside the camp.
Gerion cleared his throat loudly, "He may be the Heir to Tywin, but he is under my command. That means he takes care of his horse and supplies."
"But of course, find me once you are done with your duties Jaime. I will tell the Kingsguard to keep an eye out and let you in."
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