I don't own the ASOIAF franchise
Chapter 7 – Overreach
"You know, when you became a guard in training, I thought that we would spend more time together, not less." Lyanna commented as she saw Michael returning from his training with the rest of the recruits. "And stink less as well."
"Sorry, they had me stay to help with the juniors." Michael apologized.
And that was true. Three years have already passed since Michael passed the trail and he was still considered 'first graduate', or 'first cadet' now. It also meant that his duties were bigger as well. He had to help the struggling cadet of his group as well as taking turns in teaching the newer cadets. Combining this with the projects he was working on in the workshop and having to make sure he had enough free time to hang out with Lyanna, it was enough to say that he got little rest.
"At least change a shirt or something." The lady Stark threw him a cotton shirt. "You stink."
"Right…" Michael started to disrobe and change his shirt. Once finished, he noticed that Lyanna had her head turned to the side, as if she was looking forward a moment ago. Her cheeks were a bit red.
"Lyanna?"
"R-right!" She turned back to him. "Just throw it there, I will have a maid come and clean it."
"Thanks!"
"No problem." Lyanna waved him off. "So how was your day?"
"Good actually, I managed to implement the stink bombs in the gauntlet actually."
"Really?! That's great!" She said excitedly. "Can you show me?"
"Sure." Michael pulled the gauntlet.
The thing was grey in color and covered half of his forearm. It had a small crossbow attached to it, he let Lyanna touch it and feel the instrument.
"Ooh, I never seen anything like this before. Is at a small crossbow there?"
"Yes, took the idea from Rufus and his hunters." Michael admitted. "The hand crossbow, that's what I call it, isn't much of a use to them. It's not precise enough for the smaller and faster prey and not strong enough for the larger beasts, but it's good enough for the unarmored man."
"So how do you shoot it?" The girl asked. In response, Michael pulled some small egg-like things.
"Those are the smoke bombs." He explained. "They are basically eggs filled with a special combination of ingredients I made. The shell is hard enough to not crack accidentally but will break when it hits a target and will release what's inside.
"What is inside?" Lyanna bent her neck to the side in curiosity.
"Well… Furballs, some wastes from the stable, what's in the mud the pigs play in, and whatever it is that grows inside the special waste room of Old Nun. "Michael listed uncomfortably. "There are a few other things, but I prefer to end it here if you will."
"Ew." Was all the lady said. "How did you stop the smell from escaping the egg? No, screw that, how did you make the egg in the first place?"
"With a lot of trial and error." Michael nodded, a single tear could be seen from the side of his face. A testament for the pain and suffering his nose had to endure.
"So that is why you didn't let anyone meet you for three weeks." Lyanna had a realization.
"Yes… Anyway, want a demonstration?" Michael was eager to change the subject.
"Yes!" The two of them went to the window to find a good target.
The good thing about Lyanna's room was that it was high above the ground and gave a good view on a big area. The height also made it very hard for people to spot them, even on the rare occasion that someone did look up. Which also made it a perfect spot if you wanted to snipe someone.
Michael found a fitting target to test his new invention on, aimed, and released.
"Argh!" The voice of heir Stark was heard clearly even up there in Lyanna's room. "Fucking- What is that smell?! You will pay for that Michael, you basterd! I know that you're responsible somehow! When I get my hands on you, I will fucking gut you! You hear me!"
The two kids quickly hid inside the room as they snickered. All the while, Brandon continued to curse a storm.
"Gods, I can't believe that you actually did it!" Lyanna got a hold on her breath. "And you hit him right in the back, he didn't even see it coming!"
"I know! The shot shouldn't have been that precise!" Michael answered back. "I thought that I'll scare him with the shot exploding near him, it would have been enough for the stank, but now he'll have it following him for a week!"
"Gods, his screams are so funny!" The Stark girl continued "Oh how will he talk to girls now?"
"You're an awful sister, you know this?" Michael joked good-heartedly.
"Screw you, I'm the best sister!" Lyanna gave him the tongue. "Maybe next time he should have thought better than bragging about kissing another one of my friends."
"Can't argue with that."
Michael was more than aware that the next lord Stark had hit puberty and was more then willing to talk about women who caught his fancy. Oh, Michael was this close to breaking the other boy's teeth when Brandon "complimented" his mom. Luckily, Lyanna was there to save himself from death penalty for attempted murder of the heir and talked to her dad thoroughly about this. Lord Stark, in return, dressed his firstborn for unworthy behavior and for lusting after a woman who was literally old enough to be his mother.
"Say, can I use it now?" She pointed at the hand-crossbow.
"I think we should wait a few hours at least, we don't want to get caught now do we?" Michael rubbed his hand behind his head.
"Spoilsport…" Lyanna grumbled. "You sure you can't leave it here?"
"Sorry Lyanna, but the last time I left you with something I made, I got into serious trouble with your dad." Michael reminded her about the incident.
"Come on, how should I have known not to press on that button?" Lyanna argued.
"Because I told you, multiple times." He reminded her with a dead look. "And because you have the attention span of a hamster, I had to clean the stables day and night for a month. So no thank you, I will keep my things to myself thank you very much."
The very dignified response of the even more dignified lady was the most dignified tongue showing. Oh, and it was sarcasm, if anyone was confused. Regardless, Michael decided to be the bigger person (Well, he already was the bigger person physically, but he meant mentally as well) and move on.
"Anyway, we'll soon be going to our first patrol." Michael reminded her. "There shouldn't be anything unusual, only us riding on a horse for a day or two."
"Do you have to go?" She didn't particularly beg, but she wasn't too pleased either.
"Sorry, but duty calls." He answered. "A guard that doesn't patrol isn't so much of a guard now, is he?"
"But aren't you trained to be a personal guard?" Lyanna asked. "As in someone who needs to protect and stay close to the Stark family?"
Michael could clearly hear the unsaid addition of "to me?" in the sentence. It touched him, truly, but Lyanna needed to hang out with other friends too. The time she spent with him was already more than the time she spent with the other servant kids combined. She really liked to hang out with him for some reason.
"They said something about a recent infestation of bandits that needed more manpower than usual to deal with. Hence, we go to patrol. Don't worry though, nothing dangerous should happen." Michael promised. "But if something interesting happens then I'll bring you a souvenir, okay?"
"Fine… Just promise to return in one piece, okay? No one frustrates Brandon like you do in the training ground. With you gone, his ego will rise higher than the wall." Lyanna then moved walked to her drawer and pulled some handkerchief and gave it to him. "Here, for good luck."
"Thank… you?" Michael was confused.
"Don't think too much of it, okay?" Lyanna said with a frustrated tone suddenly, her cheeks became redder. "It's just common practice for a lady to give her blessing to someone who fights for her, at least that's what they do on the tourneys. Don't think too hard about it!"
"…Okay?" Michael was starting so think that Lyana's moon cycle started. As someone who grew in a whorehouse in his early childhood, he was well versed in how to interact with bleeding women.
He looked at the handkerchief. It was light-blue in color, like the winter roses Lyanna so liked, and had the grey symbol of house Stark woven into it with impressive detail and diversity in shades. A proof of Lyanna's skill with the needle, after years of constant practice and frustration of course.
"It's beautiful." Michael said honestly.
"S-shut up, just take it!"
Knowing better than to argue, Michael merely folded it and put it un his breast pocket quietly. Of course, just then a knock was heard on the door, with his mother's voice of all reasons calling out for them.
"Lady Lyanna, is my son with you? Your lord father summons the both of you."
Crap.
"They did it father! There can be no one else!" Brandon yelled as they entered the throne room, his stank reached them even across the hall.
"Quiet, boy." Lord stark said rather strongly. It seemed that he was not amused. "Daughter, Michael, are you the ones responsible for Brandon's state?"
"No!" Lyanna yelled with conviction. "Someone must have had enough with Bran telling everyone how he kissed their sister!"
"As if! You and that whore-son are the only ones with the balls to do something like this!"
"I said quiet, boy!" Lord stark yelled, enraged. "Insult my household in front of me again, and I'll have you clean the stables for the next moon!"
Brandon was still very furious, but held himself back. The wild wolf was not that wild to invoke his lord father, but Michael would lie if he said he wasn't worried for the future.
"Now, Michael. Did you or did you not throw a stink bomb at my son, your future lord?"
"My lord, how could I?" He needed to be very careful now. He couldn't tell lord Stark the truth, but in the same breath he also couldn't lie to him. "I was with Lyanna at her room when we heard lord Brandon's screams. If I were to throw from the window at any point in the yard it could never be precise enough to hit a person, it's simply impossible."
"And what exactly were you doing in my daughter's room, unsupervised?!" The tone in Lord Stark's voice was as cold as the winters of this land, Michael felt that his next words may very well be his last if he's not careful.
"She… wanted to show me the handkerchief she made and say goodbye before my first departure?" Michael showed the piece of fabric in question. Was there something he was missing?
Lord Stark looked at him, Michael blinked in confusion in return. In the end, the king of winter sighed as he massaged his nose. "How can someone with your intellect and upbringing be so dense… Know what, no, I'm not dealing with this. Woman, he's you son. Educate him." The lord pointed at Michael's mother.
"Yes, my lord…" Mom had her head bent down in embarrassment. Okay, what was he missing?
"Father, you're not really letting them get away with this, do you?!" Brandon was peeved.
"You found them in my daughter's room, did you not?" Lord Stark asked mom.
"Yes, my lord." She bowed her head.
"Then the debate is over." The king of winters declared. "They could not have run all the way from the yard to Lyanna's room at this timeframe without anyone noticing, I would have heard something. There is no need to question them farther."
"No! They're guilty, I know it!" The future of house Stark held firm in his (correct) blaming.
"Enough Boy!" Rickard had enough. "You are letting your personal grudge cloud your judgment, and I will hear no word about this! You have suffered injustice, and we'll find the culprit, but you will not throw here baseless accusations!"
"You will find nothing!" Brandon yelled back. "Because you protect the true criminal! You trust some bastard son of a whore more than your own son!"
"Brandon! Brandon, come here this instant!" But the wild wolf paid no mind as he stormed off.
For some reason, Michael felt that he had made a terrible mistake.
"Alright boys, buckle up and we'll start moving!" The team leader, a guard ten years their senior, ordered. In a minute, all six of them were on their horses and were ready to ride through the gates. Once they were out, the town soon enough gave way to the wilderness that surrounded them.
"Now listen, you lot stay close to each other, you hear?" Their leader. "We're on patrol, which means that we're expected to dispatch any brigands we find. So watch out for sneak attacks, those people won't fight fair."
"Yes, sir!" They all said in union.
On their way, they met a far too few travelers on their way either to or from Wintertown. The traitorous roads, the cold weather, and the sheer lack of population made travelling very unpopular. It was quite sad when outlaws used those roads more then the regular people.
When the sun finally started to set, it was decided to make camp on the side of the road. Each of them had a part in building the tent and Michael's was gathering woods for the fire together with Nathan, his fellow junior guardsman.
Which is how the two found themselves walking through the darkening woods.
"I have to admit, I expected it to be more interesting." Nathan said. "I mean, it's our first real mission and all we do is ride. You can look at the trees only so long before it gets boring."
"Boring is good." Michael reminded him. "It means that there aren't any bandits. In those cases boring is better."
"I know, I know. But don't tell me you didn't want to fight some bandits, maybe save a pretty maiden on the way."
A sudden rustle in the bushes caused the both of them to jump, Nathan drew his sword while Michael pointed his shooter. When a rabbit jumped out of said bush, the two of them relaxed.
"Still want some excitement?" Michael asked his still leg-shaken and adrenaline fueled friend.
"No, I'm good. Maybe you were on to something when you said boring is better."
"Great. So, I think we have enough timber. We should go back before finding out it the next bush hides a bear instead of a rabbit, preferably before dark as well."
"Agreed."
The two quickly made their way to camp, who had an unknown caravan parking near it for some reason.
"Ah! Michael, Nathan, got the firewood I see." The squad leader noticed them as he finished his talk with a middle-aged man with a mustache and a pork belly who wore nicer clothes then most.
"Meet Alfred, he's a merchant from the Riverlands who will camp with us for the night for additional protection. Alfred, those are Michael and Nathan. Two of our most promising guards in training."
"Hello, sir." The two teens saluted as they were trained to.
"Hoo, I feel protected already." The man, Alfred, said with a cheer. He then noticed Michael's unique eyes. "Your name is Michael, right? Say, are you perhaps the 'Wolfsbane'?"
"That is how some address me, yes." Michael nodded. "Although I'm surprised people still talk about it, let alone outside Winterfell."
"My boy, when someone saves the daughter of a lord paramount, you can be sure that people will hear about it. let alone if they have such a unique story as you."
Michael had no idea what the man was talking about, but he had a suspicion that mister Bard had something to do with it. Just what was that clown telling about him now?!
In a bedroom at some inn in an unnamed village, a man wearing jester's uniform sneezed as he composed his next song.
"Huh, someone must have thought of me."
With a shrug, he returned to his work.
"Anyway, you two can go back to the others. Mind yourselves, you will have to watch tonight." The squad leader warned them.
"Yes, sir!"
The two left to start the campfire where they saw their friends talking with an auburn-haired girl their age, most likely the daughter or the niece of the merchant.
"Alright guys, enough chit-chat. Help us out here." Michael called. "Who has the flint to start the fire?"
One of the guys threw it at Michael and the duo-eyed boy caught it with his hand, from there it took minutes for the fire to start.
"So were are you from?" Michael asked the girl as they rusted meat on the fire.
"From Riverrun." The girl said. "My father is on a business trip and my mother and I accompany him."
Michael remembered from the maps, as well as from the lessons he learned on the nobles of the seven kingdoms via Lyanna, that Riverrun was the sit of power of the Tully and the capital of the Riverlands. Lyanna also told him that the symbol of the Tully is a trout and that they are fucked every time there is a conflict because they are always literally in the middle of everything. the 'gutted fish' he believe the joke was.
"Really? I heard that it's a beautiful castle" He started a conversation. "In the shape of a perfect tringle, right?"
"That's right! How did you know?" She asked excitedly. "Although between us, I think that the gate wall is a few feet shorter than the others."
"I heard it here and there. So, what are you planning to do here north the neck besides freezing over?"
"Eh, father had some business in Winterfell. Something about the transfer of grains from the Reach. I honestly don't know the semantics." Rachel answered. "And of course the usual merchandise he usually sells. Mainly salt and salted meat, but there are also luxuries like clothes and carpets. Some spices as well."
"Huh."
"By the way, what's up with your eyes?" Immediately as she said those words, she flinched. "Sorry, it came out wrong. Oh, I'm Rachel by the way."
"Michael. And no problem, you're not the first one to ask." He assured her. "I was born like that and to answer your next question, I see as good as anyone else."
"So, are you the leader of this group?" Rachel asked innocently, which caused Michael to pause.
"What, where did you get that?" He was defiantly no leader of no group, he was all too aware that he spent too much time in the workshop or with Lyanna for that.
"Well, I mean… You're the biggest in your group, right?" She wasn't wrong, Michael was a head taller than the rest, but there were so many more other things for a leader than size. "Besides, you're the most unique looking. And the others seem to follow your orders, notice also how none of them challenged you."
Okay, she got something in the last part.
"Oh, hell no." Nathan crossed his arms. "No one here is stupid enough to fistfight Wolfsbane here, he'll skin us alive like he did to that wolf."
"Wolf?" Rachel asked in confusion.
"Yeah, there was a rabid wolf on the loose at Wintertown around five or so years ago. Michael fought and killed it on his own, right before it could attack lady Lyanna." Explained one of the boys. "And let me mention that he wasn't trained then."
"Wow." Rachel was amazed, before remembering something. "Wait a minute, did you say Wolfsbane?"
Michael nodded.
"By the Seven, You're Michael the Wolfsbane!" She exclaimed.
"Apparently people made me a last name, yes." Michael nodded.
"Is it true that you're as strong as ten regular men?! Did you strangle a serpent with your bare hands in your crib?! Was your father a frost giant? Are you having a forbidden romance with Lyanna Stark?!"
She didn't stop firing questions.
"Okay, okay, stop!" He massaged his head. "No, I don't have any super strength. I'm just strong for my age, nothing more. No secrets beside healthy exercise. It's just that I'm better than most in a fistfight, so people exaggerate as usual."
"As for the serpent part, I was three. And it was much smaller than you think." Michael showed her the snake charm he had, the head of the snake only a bit bigger than his nail.
"Oh gods, is it the snake?!" She squealed. "Can I hold it?"
"Am…" She didn't seem so stable at the moment. As in, she may break the charm from excitement.
"Pretty please!" She then gave him what is called 'puppy eyes' as she mastered a begging expression.
"I… Fine! But only for two minutes!"
Damn it, puppy eyes are much better when he was the one doing it. Unfortunately, now this strategy only works on his mom and sometimes on Lyanna.
"Yay!" She immediately snatched it from his hands and studied it like it's the most priceless jewel in the world.
He was going to regret it, he just knew it.
"To answer the other questions in order. I have no idea what a frost giant is, there are only giants in stories told to be living north to the wall, no frost giants though. What are those anyway?"
"I don't know, but it sounds awesome." Rachel admitted. "I think they are giants that risen from the dead by the others."
"Than how can they even heve- no, nevermind." Some things better be left alone. "I may not know who my father is, but I can certainly say he was not a frost giant. As for the last question, what the actual fu-"
No, remember that you are in front of a lady. "What the hack?"
"I don't know, you two seem awfully close together." Nathan noted with a mischievous tone.
"Yeah, you always find time for her." Another one noted.
"And weren't you two together in her room just the other day? Alone and without supervision?"
"You all do understand that we have spars on daily basis, right?"
That shut them up.
"Anyway, I'll be taking the dead man's watch, so I'll go get some sleep now. You decide between yourselves who takes what." Michael pulled his unofficial rank before turning to the only girl among them. "I'll be needing my charm back, please."
"Okay…" She handed it back to him, albeit a bit reluctantly.
The watch was, luckily enough, uneventful. Just as it should be. With down starting to break, so was the camp. For his own peace of mind, it seemed that Rachel wasn't a morning person, as she was nowhere to be seen. Most likely still asleep at the caravan.
Michael liked the girl, but gods was she loud. He also didn't understand why she had such a big interest in him. Sure, apparently he was mentioned a few times in a few taverns, but nothing he did was worth such reaction. It wasn't like he did something incredible like the sword of morning or Barristan the bold or something.
Soon enough, the two groups went to their own way with Alfred and his group heading towards Winterfell and Michael's own squad continued their patrol.
"Man, I wish I had a girl smitten with me like this." Nathan said from Michael's side. "Guess I have to find my own wolf to slay, huh?"
"Please don't start it again." The taller boy sighed tiredly.
"Hey." Nathan raised his arms in mock surrender. "I'm just saying. If I got that attention, I would have tried to make some moves. Hell, she probably wanted you to swoon her."
"You're reading too much into this. She was just excited to meet someone from the stories she heard, nothing more. Besides, we're on duty. Flirting is not something any of us should do right now."
"Gods, I would have thought you a sword swallower if not for the incident. Damn, that maid had big breasts."
Nathan got a fist to the liver for that.
"That's my mom your taking about."
"N-noted… Oh gods, I see smells…"
Said incident was when there was a mix-up in bath time and the junior guards in training went to wash themselves after a harsh training session. Only that the baths were already occupied by the maids, who were well into their washing. Needless to say, Michael had many revelations that day. One of whom was that yes, his mom was the most 'blessed' out of all the maids. He couldn't look her in the eyes for a month.
Just as he finished his thoughts, he heard a sound of something cutting through the air. By instinct, he pulled the reigns of his horse and stopped the beast. Just in time as something flew where he would have been.
"Ambush!" Their leader yelled.
"There!" Michael noticed two figures amongst the trees, both of them mounted. "Between the pines!"
They started giving chase immediately, no hesitation. They needed to close the distance immediately in front of archers before more shots could be fired, but it held its own risks. Mainly, that they becoming bigger and bigger targets as they close in. It seemed, however, that the bandits turned tail and started riding away with haste using the trees as cover.
Michael couldn't have that. Beyond the fact that the whole purpose of the patrol was to exterminate bandits, those two could lead them all into an ambush. Thinking fast, he equipped the smoke bombs, the same ones he shot at Brandon, and shot the dart in the direction of the riders.
It didn't hit the riders, not even the horses, but it didn't need to. Michael's shot hit the ground where the horses would travel, and released its foul smell. The equines, having a much stronger sense of smell than humans, reacted immediately. The beasts that used to go undaunted through the battlefield have gone mad when their noses were assaulted. And in their erratic try to get rid of the smell, they threw away their riders and ran off to the wild.
From there it was an easy job to catch and tie up the barely conscious bandits.
"Good job, kid!" The team leader praised Michael.
"Yeah, that was a close one." Nathan agreed. "Thank the gods that those two were such cowards and didn't even try to shoot us again."
It was strange. What did they even want to accomplish here? All they did was shoot one arrow and run. There was no way for the two of them to kill the entire squad, and they were also not dressed for assault but for evasion.
A distraction? If Michael hadn't had his stink bombs they would sure as hell have given quite a chase. But if so, than what were they distracting the patrol from? The only thing of note that came to mind was…
"Son of a bitch!"
Michael turned his horse around and began riding as fast as he can.
"Hey! Come back!" The leader called. "What's the matter with you?!"
"Alfred's caravan is under attack!"
"Ah!"
Rachel watched tearfully as her father was hit in the stomach by one of the bandits, the hit was strong enough to bring him to his knees. The bandits around them lauthed cruelly at the sight of his pain.
It all happened so fast. One moment she was at the caravan talking to mom, the next moment she heard loud noises and screaming as the caravan stopped at once. Mom hugged her tightly as the screaming and clashing of steel continued for a few moments. Then, strange dirty men opened the doors and grabbed both her and her mother annd separated them in the process.
The couple of muscles her father hired to keep them safe were laying on the ground unmoving, puddles of crimson around them. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened to them.
"Please…" Dad begged. "Take what you want, just leave us alone-Argh!"
The bandit who seemed to be the leader kicked him again.
"Shut up, fat man. I give the orders here." He spoke with his yellow teeth. "Everything here, it's ours. The loot, the horses, even you. Now hold him still while I check the merchandise."
""NO! Leave me/her alone!"" Both her parents yelled as the bad man got closer to mom.
"He said shut up!" The bandit holding dad down hit him in the face.
"DAD! No!"
"Shut the fuck up girly if you don't want the same treatment." The man holding her said. "Would be a shame to ruin this pretty face of yours before we got coin from it."
She sobbed as the man who walked to her mom grabbed the dress and tore it in the chest area, exposing mom's breasts to the cold air. The family sobbed as the man groped her mother.
"Yeah, she's good enough to keep." He decided. "The girl too will worth the investment in a few years."
"No, please not my daughter!" Mom begged, and got a slap on the face for it.
"Shut it, bitch!" He yelled before turning to dad. "Now listen up, we'll be taking those two hoes back to camp. You want to see them? Get you fat ass here every month with fifty golden dragons. You snitch, we kill them. You don't come, we sell them to slavers in essos. You cheep out on the money, we rape them in front of you until they fill the gap with their bodies. You understand?"
Before dad could say something, Rachel spoke. She didn't know what possessed her, it certainly wasn't bravery as the state of her underwear can testify, but she opened her mouth.
"You wouldn't get away with this!" She declared. "Lord Stark will find you! We met a guard patrol on the way, they will come and save us!"
There was a complete silence around the camp, no one made a sound. Mom and dad looked like they were going to faint. Then, a laugher from the leading bandit. Mocking and cruel. Then, one by one, the others followed.
"She actually thinks someone's going to save her!"
"I know, right? Man, what a moron."
"You hear that, prince charming? Your damsel is calling you! Come and get us!"
"Girl, no one is coming to save you." The leader smirked at her. "We made sure of it."
Just as he said that, he got an arrow to the head. All around her, arrows were thrown. At least she thought those were arrows, it was too fast for her to see. Whenever one such arrow hit, there was a cloud of sickly green smoke that left those around it wailing and screaming as they paid no attention to the surroundings.
She too wasn't spared, as both she and the bandit that held her got a dose of that foul smelling thing. In the chaos, the man lost his grip on her and she fell to the cold ground. Her eyes watered as she puked from the abominable smell that must have come from the seven hells themselves. Then, she heard the sound of horses running towards her as more screams followed.
"Hey, it's okay now." A voice she remembered from somewhere spoke to her. "You're safe."
When she opened her eyes, she saw Michael the Wolfsbane kneeling in front of her and offering his hand. His clothes were covered in patches of blood, none of it his own, but the hand he offered was clean. The next thing she knew, she was hugging him tightly and crying into his chest.
"There, there…" He gently hugged her and patted the back of her head. "They are all gone now."
"And this concludes my report of the patrol, milord."
They all stood in front of Lord Stark as their team leader explained the turn of events. And by 'they', Michael meant the squad and Alfred. Rachel and her mother are resting in a guestroom now, a well needed rest if there ever was any.
"So let me get it straight." Lord Stark began. "A group of bandits followed a caravan from the Riverlands and was organized enough to not only wait for a patrol to pass over, but also put a diversion to make sure that said patrol wouldn't catch wind until all is said and done. Then, they didn't simply rob everything, but also blackmailed the merchant for a steady supply of gold in a way he couldn't refuse. Did I get this right?"
"Yes, my lord."
"And you stopped this plot because young Michael her used his resources to their best advantage, halting the diversion almost immediately, and returned because of a gut-feeling Michael had. Then, using the same bombs, you managed to assault and defeat a group of armed full-grown men twice your size. Happily, without any casualties on the patrol's side, may I add."
"Yes, my lord."
"And the fact that all the living prisoners are without both hands?"
"They are fully grown violent men my lord, and the rest of the squad are boys of three and ten." The squad leader explained. "I couldn't risk it."
"At ease, my good man." Lord Stark raised his hand in a calming manner. "I merely asked. And I agree to your call. Anything else of note?"
"No, my lord."
"I see…" The lord pondered. "You all may go now. I will give farther instructions later, so prepare yourselves."
"Yes, my lord!"
The group started walking.
"Not you Michael, you stay."
That can't be good.
"Prepare a team." Rickard addressed the master at arms to his right. "I'll eat my boots if that merchant was their only victim. Interrogate the prisoners, get out everything from them. I want them to be fully broken. Then, I want a force ready for a strike. I smell a bigger conspiracy at play here, they were way too practiced and business savvy for a common bandit group."
"At once, my liege." The master at arms bowed and went to fulfill the orders.
"Now…" Lord Stark looked at Michael, the two were alone in the hall. "I find it strange that those 'stink bombs' you used on the bandits are very similar to what hit my son, your future lord, don't you agree?"
Michael was too terrified to answer, especially when lord Stark rested his hand on the pummel of Ice who was stabbed to the floor.
"Well? Answer me."
"I-it's very strange, yes…"
Michael couldn't help but step back when the lord rose from his throne leaning on Ice and taking it off the ground. Lord Stark twisted the massive great sword around his hand like it was a pocketknife. Mind you, Valerian steel is said to be much lighter than regular steel, but it still looked downright impressive. That is, if Michael wasn't so terrified at the same time.
When lord Stark was face to… okay, the king of winters was much bigger then Michael still, so when they were a step from each other, Rickard stabbed Ice to the ground, hard. This reminded Michael of their first interaction, only this time he didn't have ignorance to protect him nor a cause to stand up to his lord.
"Do you take me for a fool?!" The lord raged. "Confess everything, now!"
And so he did.
Once he finished, lord Stark backhanded him. Michael saw stars, but only took a step back. Which was an accomplishment as someone else would have been on the floor now.
"I have let you and your mother under my roof, I have given you privileges unlike any other, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!" Rickard yelled. "By attacking my son, your future lord?!"
The lord took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
"This feud between you too had been gone long enough. I would have no problem with the fact that you aren't a yes man, welcome it even! God's know the boy needs someone that says him no. But this was an unprovoked assault, and that I can't forgive. I am at fault as well." He concluded. "I didn't remind you of your position, so you grew out of your boundaries. By all rights, I should banish both you and your mother back to the streets from which you came."
Please no, anything but that… not mom, please…
"But…" Stark continued. "You have proven yourself too useful to discard just yet. But I can't let you go unpunished. Therefore, you're unworthy of being the first among your pears!"
Lord Stark tore the badge of the first junior from Michael's uniform.
"You are no longer the favorite of my subjects!"
Michael's wrist-crossbow was the next thing to come off.
"And you will have no interactions with my children!"
He grabbed the charm on Michael's neck and tore it with one strong motion.
This was too much. Michael fell forward on his knees and sobbed, he put his hand on his neck, where the charm would have been. He didn't know how much time had passed.
"From now on, know this. If you don't earn my pride, you will be cast aside."
A knock on the door was heard, and the Maester's voice called.
"My lord! A raven had arrived!"
"I'm busy right now." Lord stark called back.
"It's quite argent, I'm afraid."
"I said not now!"
"I must insist, my lord."
Lord Stark grumbled before letting the maester in.
"Yes, what is so important that you had to bring to my attention?"
The master merely handed him the message he got from the raven. Lord Stark read it, his mouth frowning. In the end, he finally addressed Michael.
"You have one chance to redeem yourself. Rowan Uber, daughter of Mors Uber had been kidnapped by wildlings while on-road." Rickard declared as he threw Michael's charm to the boy's feet.
"Find her, rescue her and bring her home safely. Or don't come back as all. Take everything you think you need and go. Now!"
Michael picked his things and ran.
"My lord." Maester Walys turned to Rickard once the two were alone. "Far be it for me to question your decisions, but are you sure it was the best course of action?"
"Yes… No…" Lord Stark sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't , what's done is done."
"The boy has overreached. He attacked my son, and I can't allow this. Such insubordination will lead to a revolt if left unchecked, no matter how useful one is. Younger than him have been executed for less and you know it."
"Were you really going to banish him?"
Walys honestly didn't care either way, he had no strong opinion on the boy besides mild curiosity. But he also knew how the world works and indeed, younger people than young Michael have been put on a spike for less offences against their lords. An even more glaring thing that Walys had noticed, and Rickard seemed to be blind too, was that for a smallfolk insubordination may be excused, superiority will not.
And comparing the two boys, Michael was the better one in Walys's own opinion by standards of a lord. Stronger, smarter, more calm-minded, knew hard work. The only thing the Stark heir seemed to have over the two-colored bastard was the confidence the boy had. But how much time will it take for the bastard to ask why he should follow the lord? It wouldn't be out of reason for lord Stark to cast the boy out to avoid a semi-Blackfyre situation.
A bastard is what a bastard is, there was a reason that the seven-pointed star had such a negative opinion on bastards.
"No, I would have not cast him out. Never. But I needed to scare him enough for compliance."
"That you sure did, my lord." The master nodded. "Do you really expect him to succeed then?"
"Of course, old friend." Rickard nodded. "As of now, he has everything to lose. He will give it his best, and if anyone is resourceful enough to deal with this situation, it's him."
"If only Lyarra was here…" Rickard lamented. "She would have known what to do."
"A dreadful loss." But a necessary one. "You have my condonations."
"Thank you." The lord nodded. "I don't suppose you have a chain for kids, do you maester?"
"I'm afraid not my lord, this is one chain that will forever stay beyond the order's reach."
"Shame."
AN
Sorry for the long wait, but here is the chapter at last.
I have to admit that I played a little with the date of events. according to wiki, the kidnaping of Rowan Uber happened in 270 AC, almost a decade before this point of time. But since it's a semi-AU and butterfly effect, and because it fits the direction I wanted to go with this story, I said screw it.
Anyway, what do you think of the chapter?
Now for the reviews:
Engineer1869 :
Thanks!
No one can say that Stark guardsmen are quitters.
Nothing can motivate children to learn their numbers more than candy:)
Guest :
I plan to make this story darker then my usual ones, it's an asoiaf after all, but I was conflicted about it. In the end, I decided that I don't have the heart for this. Brandon and Michael will be at odds, and Brandon will be a jerk but not like this. I plan a complicated relationship with those two.
Medieval society is very strict about class, even in the north far from the "civilized" world of Westeros. Michael can't get any lands and titles bacouse of his birth status and the only available noble daughter of his age for marriage is Lyanna, which needless to say is out of question. Besides, Michael was treated like Littlefingers did (or is actually, considering the timeline) in his youth, which is far more then any bastard can ask for. Michael is respected in this household, even by Rickard.
Even now Rickard, with as harsh as this punishment seem to be, was very merciful compare to literally any other high lord.