Game of Thrones: A Tale of a Coward

The Bastard - Rosemary III

Fighting is never the correct resolution. All it does is end in death. Piles of corpses upon corpses. And brings the black-feathered creatures to feast. Dozens of them. While Rosemary did what she had to to ensure the safety of herself and her loved ones, she couldn't help but to ponder on how her father managed to do this. How could he have ventured across the north and down the neck, only to be killed? There was never a purpose for him going all that way if all he did was fill the belly of a crow.

"Rosemary," Gill calls out to her. Rosemary is startled; flinches away from her friend's gentle touch. "The baby... it's got to be 'ere soon. It's been so long already." She was right. It had been long enough that her child should've arrived some time before the fighting began.
"Yes. Yes, your baby. We must prepare for his arrival. I'll get you water and some blankets to rest on when the time comes. I'll also find out if anyone knows what to do."
"Bless you, Rosemary. You truly are a kind person." Rosemary smiles at the compliment.

Soon enough, Rosemary collects some water and makes sure to have it equipped on her at all times. The blankets were promised to be provided when the time came, as no one was too willing to give them up; there were few blankets to go around barely five of the group.

Rosemary approaches Luciara, hoping to assist in the birthing. Unable to find his whereabouts, Androw explains for her, "He is busy tying up our traitor, former friend, Mirk. Whom you believe is the father of Gill's bastard?"
"Correct. What exactly is he doing with Mirk. And what of the Wildling children?" she asks.
"I suppose moaning at Mirk. As for the Wildlings... probably just trying to forget about them."
"Thank you, Androw." She prepares to find Lucia.
"I could help, if you wish," Androw suggests.
"It's quite alright, Androw. Lucia will help. When he can. I have faith that he must. All he's done is for our own good."
"Don't be too confident in him. He is changing. The Luciara Stark you and I knew is being reborn. The leaving of Winterfell is just the beginning. The Wildling attack was the next thing to turn him into something different. Now that Mirk is here... Well, I don't know what this'll change him in to. He may be the witty and facetious fool we once loved still, but do not let that deceive you." Rosemary leaves him, with a smile and an understanding look.

She finds Luciara resting on his knees, staring his new, but still black, eyes into the demonic and welcoming hazel eyes of Mirk. With Mirk tied up with thick rope, which would burn even the toughest man if he were to struggle in it, all around his body and the tree he rests on. The two speaking no words. Silence ensues. The desolate wind being the loudest amongst them. The scene was more quiet than the godswood. Mirk was the first to break both the silence and the eerie eye contact: "Rosemary? You were, perhaps, more astonishing in my dreams last we saw each other." His voice was unchanged, but his words ever different.
"You flatter me," Rosemary replies, with deadly stare and dull expression in her voice. She felt death creeping on her being closer to Mirk. Why around Mirk does she feel uncomfortable? Luciara had not noticed her, or rather he had not looked at her. "But, as you know, I am partnered with Lucia."
"Really? I hadn't noticed. He spends too much time with me. Hadn't you noticed. Ought you not... punish him. Maybe me and Lucia best swap places, eh? Eh!?" he spits.
"Rosemary," Luciara, or somebody, speaks up. "I'll be with you... in a moment."
"I really must speak with you, Lucia," Rosemary urgently begs. Lucia must have recognised it, for he had turned around. His face was pale. Paler than usual. His dark hair wet from sweat. Rosemary looks to him with a perplexed expression, however he seemed to not notice that.
"I'm sorry. I want to help you, but... I can't leave him unattended."
"Leave him with Androw or Ser Duncan. Can't you be with me. You're our leader here, please."
"Leader!? I left for myself and for you. I only advised everyone else to come, and you brought the rest. I did not lead anyone!" Rosemary nods. And leaves the two.

Feeling isolated, she sleeps that night close to her mother. However, unable for much sleep to advance, she is very conscious. So conscious that she hears the wailing and groaning of a woman. 'Gill?' she wonders.

Rosemary rushes to where she believed the moans to be coming from. Past trees, bushes. She's lost. Where had she gone off to? She retraces some of her steps... only to be lost again. Another cry. This one was a call for help. Rosemary heads off in the correct direction, at least she believed.

There was Gill. Seemingly in pain, resting on some logs... the water and blankets! Left behind with her mother. 'Rosemary, you fool!' Panicked, Rosemary trembles towards her friend. "It's coming," Gill informs her, although the statement needed no saying it was still said.
"Yeah, I can see that," Rosemary jokes. Gill smiles and begins a laugh that is cut off by a contraction.

Rosemary does what she can to help Gill's baby get out into the world. But what kind of world is this anymore? Not one that Rosemary would like, however her own childhood was not one to be dreamed or one to appear in the songs.

Once the bastard is free, Gill exclaims in delight, while Rosemary feels paralysed. She does manage to hand over Gill's son without breaking down. "A boy. I thought... it would be. Thank you... thank you so much, Rosemary. The gods couldn't have been kinder than to send you here."
"This is truly wondrous." Rosemary is too speechless for any words; just the first few came to mind which felt necessary to say.

Rosemary returns to Gill with water and blankets, and the three of them rest there for the night. Undisturbed.

The next morning arrives with a clear sky and bright sun, shining light down for the newborn. But what of Mirk? Does he deserve this beautiful sky? Maybe he should be forgiven. The newborn changes Rosemary as Mirk has changed Lucia.

Luciara finds Rosemary tending to Gill's child with Selyse, Mereen and Rosemary's mother. "We need to talk," Lucia says.

"What about?" Rosemary questions, fearful.
"Our prisoners. What do we do with them?"
"Set Mirk free. He was your friend, and he can be so again-"
"No, the Wildlings. Mirk has already been taken care of."
"By whom? Lucia, what did you do to him?" Rosemary isn't sure if this the same Lucia that had a crush on her. Androw was right. All Lucia does is stare blankly at her. 'It wasn't Mirk who made me uncomfortable,' Rosemary realises. 'It was Lucia and what he's becoming.'