cw / detailed descriptions and fantasies of wounds and murder

Ever since she had fully accepted her duties, her days had turned quite a bit more eventful. Perhaps because she trusted herself with more. Perhaps because she dared more.

She had run away from Lannister soldiers, helped solve a murder, run away from Vypren soldiers, met a wizard, encountered the Mountain again, and robbed two treasuries. All within a single moon's turn. So staying in a small town and just doing nothing was a nice change.

She had found shelter with the town's smith, a blonde-haired man named Tomas, and they had quickly started talking about weaponry. When she had mentioned she had no training with swords, yet that she liked to learn to wield one someday, he had pulled her outside, pressed a dulled blade into her hand, and started teaching her.

He was tough with her. She had always thought that with her previous knowledge with the spear and the dagger she would have an easy time learning the sword, but not with the way he was teaching.

Tomas pulled no punches and let her feel the full weight of every hit she failed to parry. Her arms and legs quickly started hurting, and she was certain her entire body would be covered in bruises by the time the sun set.

He reminded her of Oberyn in that. The Dornishman had had similar training methods - always forcing her to give it her all, even when she physically could not anymore. She learned to ride expertly in two moons, to swim in one, and rivalled Oberyn with the spear in a mere seven years. All thanks to him.

(There were also the things he had pushed her to do. The harp. Numbers. Trade. Relations between the great houses. The inner workings of a kingdom.)

And just like Oberyn's training had worked, so did Tomas'.

After a day her grip did not waver any longer when he hit her sword too hard, after another she had internalised the proper footwork, and after yet another she had stopped falling into the grass.

"You are a fast learner," he said one afternoon.

She was kneeling on the ground, trying to calm her breathing. "My father used to say the same."

She had called Oberyn her father.

Only to keep up appearances.

"Where is he now?"

"Back in his home, I think." Not hers. Never hers. "At least, that's where I saw him last."

He leaned onto his sword. "Do you miss him?"

Terribly.

"As much as I can."

Hooves thundered over the ground. She quickly stood up as a group of six horsemen stopped before them, five of them armed with spears.

"Smith! Where's my sword?" one of the men called.

Tomas walked forward, signifying her to stay behind him.

"Rafal. I expected you in a week."

"We're here now. So, out with it."

"I haven't finished it yet. Come back at the time we agreed upon."

The man, Rafal, seemed ready to retort something, when his gaze wandered past Tomas and settled on her.

He leaned forward in his saddle. "That girl… She wasn't here last time."

Tomas turned his head to throw a concerned look her way, before he stared at Rafal again. "Perhaps you just didn't see her. You showed quite little interest for anything but your new sword."

Rafal didn't look away. "Tywin Lannister is looking for someone like her."

Shit, shit, shit.

"What, a girl? There are thousands of those in the Riverlands, why's Lord Tywin struggling to pick one up?" He took a step back, further towards her.

"But the one he is looking for isn't just any girl." He grinned darkly. "She's the Golden Paladin, pronounced an outlaw by the crown, and you, little one, fit the description perfectly."

Her grip around her blade tightened as Tomas took another step towards her, signalling her to get behind him.

"I think I'd know if I had the Golden Paladin under my roof."

The horses started getting restless, and their riders as well; their spears poised for the attack.

"Even if I were who you say," she spoke up, "do you think I would just let you take me?"

"That is why I have this." Rafal pulled his sword from its scabbard, holding it beside him. "Of course, I would already have a better one if your smith had done his work."

"You should leave," Tomas said. "Return in a week, as agreed upon."

"And miss out on the greatest bounty I will ever collect? I don't think so."

"The Golden Paladin surely would not be reckless enough to galavant around during daylight," she threw in. Anything to get them to leave. "Especially if, as you said, there is a reward on her head."

Rafal might have continued arguing, might have even started an attack, if more men ahorse had not joined them. They were clad in leather, furs, and steel armour.

Northerners.

"What is the meaning of this?" one of the soldiers asked. He was much taller than the others, and wore a red shirt beneath his armour.

"This man here is trying to threaten us," Tomas explained, lowering his sword. "After I have been nothing but kind to him."

The soldier turned towards Rafal. "Unless you want to be delivered to His Grace, the King in the North, I suggest you leave these people be."

The man in question looked ready to jump off his horse and attack the Northerners single-handedly, but luckily decided against it, sheathing his sword and turning his horse away.

But before he left, he sent her a dirty look and growled, "This is not over, Paladin."

As the men disappeared down the road in a dust cloud, one of the Northerners turned to her. "Paladin? As in - the Golden Paladin? Hero of the Riverlands?"

"I- I did not think this had reached you yet. Nor that you had such a positive view of me."

"Any enemy of House Lannister is a friend of House Stark," the first soldier spoke up again. "Keep up the good work."

"I will, Lord…"

"Jon Umber. Pleasure meeting you, Paladin."

With that, the Northerners rode off again, leaving her and Tomas standing in the evening sun.

"Who were these people?" she asked.

"The Black Schmetterlinge, they call themselves. They're outlaws. Bounty hunters." He looked towards where they had disappeared to. "Unruly fellows, the lot of them."

"Do you think… They might have been looking for me even before coming here?"

"Almost definitely. I don't know much about Tywin Lannister, but I know that it is said he shits gold. Whatever reward he has put on your head, it must be enough to feed a family for a lifetime."

She wanted to scream, to cry, to curse her grandfather to the Seven Hells. "Why does House Lannister take such great offence at me helping people?"

"No good deed goes unpunished. You will have to get used to pushback, especially with who it is you are going up against."

The ones who have the power, she thought, and are scared to lose it.

"You will leave this town. Tonight."

"What? No- What if they come back?"

"They will for certain, giving you even more reason." He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she almost shrank back from his touch. Almost. "The Black Schmetterlinge are after you. If you leave, they might leave us alone, and pursue you."

"Might?"

"Rafal has a big mouth and none of the courage to back it up. You can trust me with this."

She nodded. "Thank you for your lessons, Tomas."

"Don't fall back on them, do you hear me? You have the potential to make a great swordsman one day, but you must keep up with your training."

He reminded her so much of Oberyn it hurt.

She left after the sun had set, disappearing into the woods almost immediately to conceal her presence.

Starlight trotted between the trees, avoiding roads or paths or any piece of earth that someone else could have recently walked on. It was a constant game they played. By now, it had become second nature to both of them.

She pulled the fabric of her hood over her hair, having been recognised one too many times because of it. Despite having found peace with her duties, she still sometimes cursed her identity as the Golden Paladin. Sure, it brought good to so many, but to her it-

A tug around her heart. Pulling her backwards.

She whirled around, and even though the trees were growing tall around her, even though any light of the sun had already disappeared, she still saw a distant pillar of smoke.

Starlight set off with merely a light dig in her flanks. They careened through the trees, branches cutting her face, pulling at her cloak, but she didn't care. She had to go back, had to see, had to make sure she didn't…

She broke through the trees, landing right behind the smithery - which was wide ablaze.

"No!"

Her mare continued galloping around the house, towards the front, towards where people were already running around, carrying buckets of water towards the fire, some of them screaming, most of them just shouting.

But this is not where she needed to go. The pull came from the field, so this is where she guided Starlight.

She had feared what she would find. The men still at their work, perhaps. Body parts strewn around the grass. Stomach open, head only half cut off, the remnants of an act only a vile creature could commit.

But he just laid there. Empty eyes staring up at the sky, blood soaked tunic sticking to his skin, sword laying uselessly at his side.

She slowly dismounted and got on one knee beside the body. The fire still burnt brightly behind her, allowing her to see the wounds. There were over half a dozen, each of them too small to have been caused by a sword.

Spear stabs.

A coward with a big mouth.

She wanted to cry. But- There was nothing. No tears, no screams, no pain. Just an icy cold rage, settling deep inside her heart.

His skin was still warm under her hand as she closed his eyes.

May the Stranger guide you through the darkness and into the light beyond. May your soul find rest and lead a better life behind the fold. May the scars and wounds of the material world fade into oblivion as the Seven embrace you as one.

Footsteps approached from behind her.

"Are you- Are you the Golden Paladin?" a woman's voice spoke. "He talked about you, whenever you were not training. He seemed-"

"I trust you will bury him with all the respect he deserves."

She stood up and quickly mounted her mare again.

"Do you not want to stay and pay your respects?"

"I need to right the wrong that has been committed here. That is how I will pay my respects."

She spurred on her horse and left the woman behind - and with it the body and the burning house.

Her mistakes killed people. Her mere existence killed people. But that did not mean she had to tolerate it.

She was the Golden Paladin. She would not back down, and she would not lose.

She would need help with this. One against six was not a fight she could win.

House Stark was out of question. They did not seem like the kind to pursue small scale quests for justice, and who knew where Jon Umber had disappeared to.

Luckily, she had heard of a brotherhood who had perfected that sort of thing.

a/n: this is part one of what i call "the brotherhood arc". some of my favourite lines i've ever written are in next week's chapter, so stay tuned :)