✓ | POOR JUDGMENT (A.FORRESTER)

In The Grove. Chapter Thirteen.

A/N: First update of 2016!! Happy New Year everyone XD

The grove was particularly dark that afternoon, the overcast sun sparing hardly any light upon the shadowed grove, leaving a dull lack of light to the area. This, however, did not phase Ser Royland, as he persisted that Rodrik continue his practicing with the sword, for when the time came and Gryff was to be brought to his knees. As the men practiced, Talia sat off to the side, watching as her brother attempted and failed at attacks repeatedly for nearing an hour. The maester and Cynthia sat at the side lines as well, talking quietly between themselves and watching Rodrik's practice. "Talia!" Cynthia called, catching the quiet young girl's attention. Her head lifted quickly, before she made her way over. Once close, Cynthia reached for the practice blade Ser Royland had brought with him to the meeting, as requested by Cynthia. She picked up one of the wooden blades and tossed it to the small girl, who failed miserably at catching it, only making Cynthia laugh. "What's this for?" Talia asked innocently, holding up the blade and examining it. The wooden carved object had many bruises and battle scars from all of Cynthia and Asher's times practicing with them, or just randomly beating objects that caught their attention. "I am going to teach you how to fight." Cynthia stated proudly, reaching for her own wooden blade. It was only when it was in her grasp that she remembered something about it.

Rotating it in her hand, Cynthia stared at the handle, admiring the shit carving skills she and Asher had when they were much younger. Trying her best not to focus on the initials under her hand, she turned back to her sister, whom stood waiting for some explanation as to why now was a good time to start practicing. "Asher wanted to be the one to teach you, obviously he isn't here, so I thought I'd start with you, so you can show him when he returns." Cynthia explained, watching Talia's faltering expression. She nodded slowly, moving out the way of Ser Royland so that the two girls had room to start.

Cynthia corrected her stance, and adjusted her hold many times, wanting Talia to be as good as she could be, as soon as possible. Cynthia knew from experience with Rodrik that standing and screaming at the young girl would do nothing in her way of learning, so she made sure to stand behind her, and gently guide her to the corrections that needed to be made. They stood, side by side, mimicking each other for a while. Cynthia stood with the blade in the correct grip, and Talia copied as best she could, before they continued. Cynthia proceeded to then show her how to attack; what leg she should step forward on, in order to get the full amount of power, and how to swing her arm. The girl was a quick learner, she'd give her that. But there was much she needed to learn before she would be ready to face a real fight.

"Come on, that's enough for the day." Cynthia smiled, dropping the sword on a nearby stump. It had been an hour, or somewhere around such a time, and the girl was nearing exhaustion. "I am glad you are teaching me, I don't want to be some helpless child." Talia smiled slightly, handing her sword to her sister. "You are not helpless, Talia. But you are still a child. And a child should not need to learn how to fight." Cynthia replied, knowing Talia wished to help, in anyway possible, but fighting Rodrik's battles would get her nowhere, as it could not be done at her age. "Perhaps you could teach me some archery next time?" Talia asked excitedly, reminding Cynthia of all the times the young girl had marveled at her skills with a bow. "That responsibility falls to Arthur. He did, after all, teach me. He's far better with a bow than I am." Cynthia remarked, enjoying the fond memory of her once dear friend, and Elaena's brother. Arthur and Cynthia were of the same age, and when it came to be that Arthur was a clear marksman, he had taught Cynthia all he knew. Cynthia was not as good as him, by a long shot, but she was still good; or at least that was what her siblings kept saying. "Could Asher ever use a bow?" Talia questioned, following Cynthia through the grove as they walked. Cynthia laughed, stopping in her tracks and turning to the young, naive girl. "He'd sooner drop the damn thing than shoot an arrow from it. Asher was better with hands-on weapons, like his trusty axe." Cynthia smirked, remembering Asher's favoured weapon. She could easily recall how it came to be that he chose such a thing.

They had been out in the training ring with Royland, and Cynthia had wandered off, thinking she would catch Mira after her lesson; only when she walked through the courtyard she caught the attention of some smallfolk children, who were oblivious to her standing with House Forrester. Considering the way she dressed back then, it was understandable, but Asher did not see it that way when he arrived. The children, two boys she seemed to recall, had picked on her; ripped her clothes and pushed her to the ground, breaking her first bow in the process. It was only after a minute of Cynthia trying to fight them off that Asher came barrelling in, charging at one of the children, breaking the boy's teeth, and probably doing severe damage to the kid's nose. Once the first one fell, Asher turned to the second, who had started to run. Asher, at first, had chased him as far as the gates, before he'd looked for something to throw at the escaping bully. Despite Cynthia's instructions to back down, Asher reached for a wood-chopping axe that was placed beside the Lumberjack's bench. Asher had chucked it in seconds, and had luckily missed the poor child who fled for his life. It was only after that Asher realised how much he enjoyed the feel of the axe in his hands, and since that day he'd taken his trusty weapon to every practice; having gotten the blacksmith to make him one of his own. As well as making Cynthia a replacement bow.

Stopping when they reached Rodrik and Ser Royland, Cynthia glanced around at the beautiful trees that towered over them. She loved the grove beyond belief, it held so many memories, so many times with her family that she never wished to forget, as well as being utterly mesmerizing. It was her favourite place in all of Westeros, and she never wished to leave it, even for a day.

It was only when looking at the Ironwood trees that Cynthia spotted a familiar sight, one that brought a stretching smile to her face. Dispatching from Talia's side, Cynthia stepped over shrubbery, and small mounds of dirt in order to reach one specific tree. "Did you carve your initials into every wooden object at Ironrath?" A familiar voice echoed from over her shoulder, as she gazed at her poor carving skills once more. "It would appear so. There's another set on the back of your bed, he thought you'd never find it." Cynthia laughed, turning to her older brother whom watched from beyond one of the many obstacles of dirt and plants. Rodrik laughed, marvelling the letters A and C that had been so poorly engraved into yet another Ironwood tree. "In the past week, I believe I've seen about 5 of these," He added, approaching carefully. "Asher believed it was for luck." Cynthia smiled, laying a gentle finger along the A. "Asher never believed in luck." Rodrik chuckled, standing beside his younger sister. "I know. But I think he used that excuse so he did not sound so sentimental. He was too tough for that." Cynthia's smile faded, remembering all of the times she had assisted with him calming down, after yet another fight with his father. Asher, despite loving his family, fell out with them often. Cynthia was the only one yet to have an argument with him. Even Talia, though she may not remember the situations entirely, had scraps with him from time to time.

"Mother received a letter today, from Malcolm." Rodrik's low voice arose again, bringing Cynthia out of her reminiscent thoughts. Cynthia's head whipped around quickly, at the mention of Malcolm, desperate to know how things were going in Essos. "Is he well?" She asked, trying to disclose her obvious thoughts of Asher. "Yes, I believe so. As is Asher." Rodrik's smile grew, relief flooding Cynthia in waves. "Do they know when they are coming home?" Cynthia questioned quickly, agitated at the mention of her love, even when he was still hundreds of leagues away, the thought of his return had her anxious once more. "Not as yet, but they intend on travelling to Marine, in hopes of finding your sister." The term caught Cynthia off guard, causing her to think for a moment about it. Indeed Rodrik was correct, Daenerys and her were sisters, though never had Cynthia considered the term to be used by herself, let alone Rodrik. "I hope all goes well for them," Cynthia sighed, turning away from her brother to look fondly back at the initials, hoping there would still be time to etch matching sets into the remaining items of furniture that were yet to be branded. "You could assist them in this, you know?" Rodrik stated, catching her undivided attention once more. "How can I do that from here?" She replied rhetorically, knowing full well that it was impossible. "Not from here you can't. But you could if you were in Marine, with Asher and Malcolm." Rodrik spoke incredibly slow, allowing his words to sink in. Cynthia paused slightly, registering what her brother was in fact implying. "Are you saying I should go to Essos?" She exclaimed, spinning back around to face him entirely. At this he nodded, a small smile grazing his scarred features. "But I've only ever been to the Wall, that's nothing like travelling across the world, Rodrik!" She persisted, flustered and frustrated. In all honesty, this idea was appealing in the slightest way. It would mean seeing the man of her dreams sooner than she would if she waited at Ironrath, and it would also mean providing extra leverage in his attempts with Daenerys. And that was the other reason, Daenerys. Her sister. She would get to meet the only living relative she had remaining on this earth. And that, in it's own perverted way, was more than just slightly appealing.