Winter's Fire → Game of Thrones

xxvii. Mother's Home

Steel clanged together as some of the men went through simple sword drills. They are the more diligent soldiers - sons of knights and men who wish to prove themselves. A few of them are even sons of smaller lords. It is surprising to see so many men train together and actually get along.

It was just something I noticed along the way to Robb's tent. I cut my hand yesterday and there is a healer he wants me to meet. He fancies her, so I thought it would be best that I went to him. That way things could happen after I leave.

Jaime Lannister was being held in the camp, as I discovered only a few days ago. I met the man when I visited King's Landing years ago. He was arrogant, amoral and rude, but the man could fight like a god. When he even trains to fight it makes me think that he is The Warrior in the flesh. His skill is unmatched.

As I reached Robb's tent I smiled to myself. I was glad that my brother found someone he fancies. She may not have any feelings back, but I know what it's like to fancy someone. It truly is a wonderful feeling. If it leads to love then Robb will feel one of the most conflicting feelings of all time.

When I walked inside I saw a pretty woman who was from Essos. She had a pretty face and olive skin. Her eyes were a dark brown that shone with care and intelligence, and her brown hair was flowing, but unbrushed. There was a bit of dirt on her face and I wanted to tell Robb off for not offering the woman a way to clean up.

Robb was giving me a warning look that screamed for me not to scare the girl off. I just nodded at my brother and shot both him and the healer a warm smile. It is important to make people feel as if they are welcomed warmly. Especially when your brother fancies the person you are welcoming.

"Thank you for this," I said, unwrapping the bandage on my hand. "I have spent quite a lot of time having to patch up my own wounds, but my brother insisted that you treat me. Only the best for his little sister, I suppose."

"Why would a noble woman treat her own wounds?" The healer asked, her accent incredibly familiar yet just out of reach of my memory.

"Exile," I answered simply. "Oh! I know where I know your accent now! You must be from Volantis." I scanned over her quickly before speaking in Valyrian, "What is a noblewoman of Volantis doing in Westeros as a healer?"

The healer seemed taken aback by my knowledge - both of her native tongue and that I could tell she was a noblewoman. Not many Westerosi know that if someone is from the Slaver Cities and does not have a tattoo that they are the equivalent of lords and ladies. Westerosi do not really care about things they deem unimportant. Knowledge of other cultures just so happens to be one of those things.

Robb was shooting me a dirty look because of the expression on the healer's face. I gave him a reassuring smile. I do know what I am doing and I am fluent in most Valyrian dialects. Small errors do not matter anyway as the person I am speaking to will still understand. It is a bit awkward, but it does not matter that much.

"How impolite of me," I continued, switching back to the Common Tongue. "I am Alessia Stark, the eldest of King Robb's little sisters. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"I am Talisa... Maegyr," she told me, slightly reluctant to reveal her surname. "You cleaned your wound and bandaged it well. I will just bandage it back up for you. I am sure you know how to make sure the wound stays clean."

I just nodded and smiled, allowing Talisa to re-bandage my hand. I told Robb that I knew how to take care of my own wounds. I wish he would listen to me. There is no need to protect me anymore. I am no longer a child and I can bloody well protect myself.

Once my hand was bandaged up, I turned on my heel to leave. However, one of the men hurried into the tent. He went directly over to Robb and told him something. My brother smiled so I assumed it was good news.