A Rose in the Snow (heartlesskitten x Rivine)

[heartlesskitten]

The weather was cooler than in the Rills but Riyana Rysell had grown used to wearing leather armor and bulky wool tunics and pants and was warm enough. Her short sword was at her side and she flexed her fingers in the leather gloves she wore most of the time. On the journey, she had sold her fine grey palfrey for a shaggy thick necked garron and much needed supplies as well as the dark clothing and armor she would need once she took the Black.

As she came around the corner to the stable she heard her little horse snorting with agitation. Brydan Rivers, as she was known now, slowed and crept quietly up, reaching into her pocket and slipping the jawbreaker onto her hand. She had picked up the habit of using the iron studded leather strap around her knuckles from a southern born squire that served one of the knights of her father.

There in the dim light of the stable was a skinny dark haired boy picking through her saddle. He was a scabby whore's son, halfway to becoming a whore himself, and certainly fully to being a cutpurse by now. He was scrawny but taller than the young woman and did not look up when Riyana stepped on light feet into the stall. He might have been thirteen and despite the thief’s mischief she did not want to put a blade to him.

"I suggest you put back what you have stolen," she said in an even tone, keeping her voice low pitched and smoke soft to hide the feminity. Her face was fair with a light spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, her firm cleft chin and clear jawline lent some conviction to her disguise.

The boy looked up and sneered her, slipping something into his pocket. He spat at her feet and kept his hand in his pocket. Riyana watched him nonchalantly, her gloved hand tightening to a fist, gripping the jawbreaker.

"I ain't stolen anything, just taking care of these horses, so be on with you, ginger" he said.

"You are not the stable boy I paid to handle my horse and you are rummaging through my saddle," Riyana replied. "I give you one more chance to put back what you stole or you will pay the consequences."

The whore's son laughed, sizing up the small shaggy haired boy. He looked older than him but it was hard to tell how strong he was under the heavy clothing. Riyana looked at him, her bright blue eyes flashing slightly and watched as the other boy brought back his hand out of his pocket. He had a small club, perfect for knocking someone over the head but better if that person was taken by surprise.

Riyana moved fast for someone so heavily clothed and grabbed the boy's arm as he tried to bring it down on him with his greater reach. The boy blinked, a dumb, ox-eyed expression of uncertainty and the girl struck him in the jaw with the iron studded strap and then hit him twice more in the face, quick short jabs. The whore's son fell down, his eyes glazed and rolling back. He dropped the club and Riyana kicked it away.

"I warned you," she drew her sword and held it at the boy's neck. "Take out what you stole."

The boy tried to rise but fell back down and Riyana grunted, sheathing her sword and squatted down to pick the pockets of the thief. She pulled out some of the dried food and a flint striker along with a spare dagger. She raised her finely arched eyebrow at the knocked out boy.

"This was worth a beating? Gods help you," Riyana shook her head and put the items back in her saddle.

She grabbed the boy by the ankles and dragged him across the cold ground to the small shack lit with a red lantern that was beside the stable. It was the entrance to the brothel, one she had been shocked to find out serviced men of the Wall and it was one of many disheartening facts she was learning about the present state of the Night's Watch. Riyana dropped him at the doorstep of the brothel and knocked on the door. A pretty dark haired woman answered and looked at the boys. She sighed and motioned for him to be brought in. Riyana hesitated, Dallin had warned her about entering any sort of brothel or place where men would expect to use a woman but she did not want to leave the thief laying there in the street.

"That is my nephew, what did he take?" the woman asked as she pulled him into the room.

"He stole from my saddlebags but I recovered it, only after I had to do that," she said, gesturing to the bright red welts starting to appear on the boy's face.

The whore called out to one of the maids, a skinny dull eyed girl of about twelve who was scrubbing a pot.

“Go fetch the healer, girl, she is here to help Alira give birth,” she said, “If she can come and tend to Cason. Tell her he is knocked out.”

The servant dropped her scrub brush, “Yes, Miana.”

Miana looked over at who she saw as a pretty young man, studying his comely face. "You are here to take the Black, yes? What a waste....what is your name?" she asked, letting her sleeve fall down her soft white shoulder.

"Brydan Rivers, and yes," she said, quickly, not wanting to talk too much in case the whore was clever and realized her ruse. Riyana ducked her head, her bright red hair no longer able to hide her face since it was cropped short though it was starting to grow out more on the top, falling in a shaggy fetlock across her forehead.

The whore looked him over and she smiled, "You’re very young to do such a thing. I think you’d grow to be a very handsome man. Are you sure you wish to take those vows? I wonder if you’ve even wet your prick before."

She twirled her hair, looking at her and biting her lower lip, “I could personally see to it you at least get to experience that before deciding to become part of the Watch."

"No, ma'am," Riyana said, shifting away, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “My mind is set.”

The boy groaned, his face already swelling from the iron enforced punches and Riyana glanced at him, unsure of she should remain or not. Miana switched her hips and gave her a curl of a smile but the girl dressed as a boy looked away.

“Oh come, it’s not like you’re a crow yet, and trust me not many of them keep to that part of their silly vows,” she teased.

“Those vows are not silly,” Riyana replied, his voice still low and unidentifiable. “They are sacred and given to the Gods.”

Miana sniffed and shrugged, “Then you are a rarity indeed. Our best customers are men of the Watch.”

Riyana shot her a look, her blue eyes blazing but held her tongue. Perhaps it was not as the old stories said, where men would take the vows out of duty and honor. In her travels, she had heard that the dungeons were swept for likely candidates and of course, she knew crimes of honor were punishable by forcing a man to take the Black. Another whore come into the kitchen, her pale blonde hair billowing around her shoulders and her sagging bosoms straining against the thin blouse. She cooed at Riyana, “Sweet boy, let me clean up and I’ll give you a ride you won’t soon forget when you’re pacing up on that wall.”

Recoiling, Riyana turned away, blushing at the laughter from the two slatterns. How could these women to do such things, it was bad enough thinking about being married, having some man on top of her nightly but to do such a thing for a living? It made her sick and sad to think about.

Finally the healer arrived and she took her leave, slipping out as the old woman began to attend the boy, with a rambling string of curses and a deft hand. Riyana made her way back to the Inn across from the brothel, pulling up the black hood of her woolen cloak against the chill wind of night. It was cold, with a bite to it that made her think it was touching the ice wall and bringing it down to her nip at her face.

Dawn came quickly, the wan pale gold light filtering through the small windows of her room where she lay curled up under a pile of her own blankets, not trusting those of the inn since she noticed fleas in the last place she had stayed. Riyana yawned and rolled out of the sagging bed to pour a basin of cold water. It would be likely her last chance to wash and dress with some sort of privacy as she did not know how closely she would be sleeping around the Brothers. She cleaned herself fastidiously, rebinding her small pert breasts with the linen wraps to flatten them down. before donning the black wool and leather clothing she would wear to present herself to Castle Black. Her hair was now clean and bright as new copper which she combed down to attempt to control the thick short locks.

Riyana saddled her dark bay garron, scratching the gelding’s thick neck and rubbing his mealy colored muzzle. Mounting up, she did not give a last look at the little underground town as she pushed forward towards Castle Black. The fort rose from the mist that lay on the ground, the air being cool and damp as the sun broke through the low clouds. Her heart was pounding, part of her certain they would take one look at her and not see the boy Brydan Rivers but the young woman in a mummer’s farce. For the first time she felt perhaps Dallin had been right, the old master at arms had warned her that her duty was not on the Wall but as a wife. The older man had understood though why she could not go through with it and his soft heart in the stone hard body had given in and he had showed her how to disguise herself.

As she approached, she noted a large wagon with men and boys around it. Some were actually still in their chains and she shook her head with a grimace, the hood pulled up to shadow her fair face. This is what the honorable Night’s Watch had come to, a dumping ground for orphans, criminals, and one runaway lady.

 

[Rivine]

A lone figure stood atop the Wall in the early dawn, wrapped in a black cloak. The man's lavender eyes scanned the lands below, covered in the morning mist, taking in the beauty below him. But Vorian also saw more then beauty, for he also saw danger and decline. The forests below were now much closer then they were when he had come to the wall two decades before. It used to be that the Brothers would keep the trees back from the wall, but now he knew that there were places where the forest came up right to the wall almost. And within those woods, Wildlings and other dangers would be waiting.

His contemplative peace was broken when there was a groaning of metal behind him and the chain on the winch began to move. Vorian glanced back at it for a moment, knowing well what it heralded; the Lord Commander was coming. For Vorian had not come to the top of the Wall only to take in the sights, but also to meet with the leader of the order. The ranger had just returned from a patrol that had been months long and had yet to report to the commander. Vorian thought over the details of the ranging as he waited;

Vorian had left Westwatch four months ago with orders to scout beyond the Wall. Parties were leaving from each of the five castles along the wall, but his own was the smallest, numbering only five men in all. They had moved into the Frostfangs, making their way through the mountains to the area that they'd been assigned to scout, the Frozen Shore. The journey to the Frozen Shore was hard enough, but once they'd made their way there, things had gotten even harder. They were only five men after all in a land with several different tribes. It had only taken a hunter from one of them to find their trail to foul everything up. Pursued by wildling tribesmen, Vorian had lead his men to the Skirling Pass in order to escape them. But of course escaping from one enemy had only delivered them to others. It was while they traversed the past that his party had been ambushed by yet more wildlings from a different tribe. In short, the patrol had been a success when it came tot he scouting, but it had also cost them the lives of two rangers and maimed a third.​

The man sighed and shook his head slowly. He'd made it back late last night with his men and had written up a report for the Lord Commander, but he knew the man would have other questions. Bloodraven always did. He heard the winch jarring to a stop, then turned to face the lift as the iron gates opened. Out stepped two men who moved too either side of the opening, Raven's Teeth, men from the company that had so loyally served Bloodraven in the field of battle and who now served as his guard as he served at the Wall. After them a thin but tall man stepped out, hooded and cloaked, his body hidden from the sunlight as he made his way over to where Vorian waited for him.

"Lord Commander," Vorian greeted him, his tone even. Many men showed deference to Bloodraven, due to his position and birth, but Vorian had known the man for nearly thirty years.

"Dayne," the older man greeted him tersely, then went on, "Your ranging ran into some obstacles it seems for you to have journeyed all the way here."

"You did not read my report?" Vorian asked as he looked into the other's red eye and the empty socket. The Lord Commander rarely, well never, wore a patch over it, but the Dayne had known him long enough to no longer be intimidated by it.

Bloodraven shrugged and said, "I did. But I still find it curious that you traveled all the way here. After all, the Shadow Tower is closer."

Vorian did not reply immediately, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he said to the Lord Commander, "I knew the tribes would be moving out of the valleys in the mountains this time of year. So by swinging out further away from the Frostfangs I was able to make it to Craster's Keep, where my wounded man could rest for a few days before we pushed on. Besides, our best maester is here."

The white haired man took all of this in, then nodded a bit before he said, "Good enough. Besides, your ranging has told us more of the current disposition of the wildlings then any of the others. With them moving I think that we shall start to see more of them in the southern parts of the forest. I'll have to increase the patrols along the Wall."

"Yes Lord Commander," the dark haired Dayne agreed. "With your leave, I'll take my remaining ranger and head back to Westwatch then. We can take the Wall."

The response was immediate and terse, "No."

Vorian blinked a bit, then asked, "Do you have a new assignment for me then Lord Commander?"

Bloodraven nodded, then said, "We are expecting a new batch of recruits today, a fairly large group. I would like you to observe them in their training over the next several weeks. I want you to cull out those that you deem worthy of training as rangers and assist the master-at-arms to that end. Is that plain enough?"

Well this was a curious thing. Vorian knew that he was considered to be one of the better rangers, but usually the Lord Commander preferred them to be at their duties beyond the Wall, not training the newest lot of reprobates from the south. But it was his duty to follow the Lord Commander, so Vorian nodded, "Aye."

"Good. Now come and breakfast with me and I will tell you what the other rangings found," Bloodraven said, then turned away, walking back towards the lift.

Vorian followed after the Lord Commander, joining him on the lift. The two spoke extensively during breakfast, discussing the Lord Commander's plans for the upcoming winter. Before long there was a knock on the door and one of the stewards that tended to Bloodraven told them that the recruits had arrived. The two men rose together and exited the half Targaryen bastard's quarters.

It was Vorian who commented first, "Oh... how generous of the lords. Two wagon loads of prisoners deemed so bad that they cannot be unchained until they are here. Lovely."

The Lord Commander chuckled dryly at that, then reminded Vorian, "I was sent on a prison ship."

"And look how well that turned out for all of us," Vorian retorted sarcastically.

Bloodraven shook his head a bit, but Vorian knew well that there was a hint of a smile on the man's lips. He followed the Lord Commander to a spot where two stairways met above the courtyard, pausing there with him as the recruits were herded into the square. His lavender eyes moved over them and he spotted maybe half a dozen of the two score that might work. But his eyes paused on one lad in particular, a redhead who was still mounted on a horse. It was not the youngster's size, but rather the fact that he wore a sword and had a bow. It was not often that recruits came to the Wall with their own equipment these days, so he found it intriguing.

His attention was pulled away from the youth as Bloodraven stepped up to the railing.

The Lord Commander, still cowled, put his gloved hands upon the railing, leaning on it slightly as he began to speak, "Each of you are here for a purpose, a second chance. All of us were something else before we came here, someone else. None of that matters now. You are here to become men of the Night's Watch. That is what you will become. And as men of the Night's Watch your purpose is simple," he paused then, motioning to the Wall behind him, "We are the watchers on the Wall. We protect the realms of men. And we look forward to calling you all brothers."

Well if that doesn't scare the piss out of them all, then they're all a bunch of dumb bastards.

The thought was a brief one in Vorian's mind... but to his chagrin none of the louts ran. The Dayne sighed then and wished that he had never come to Castle Black.

 

[heartlesskitten]

Riyana watched from the back of her horse as the wagon load of prisoners soon to be Brothers unload. They were a motley lot, ranging from boys younger than she to men with eyes that were hard and ancient as stone. Perhaps her oddness would be overlooked among such variety. She gazed up at the Lord Commander, trying not to stare at his strange appearance. She knew about him, he was a southern bastard of royal blood and a man who did not come to the Wall by choice. Shifting in her saddle, she dropped her gaze when the single red eye touched her face and her skin crawled, she felt like he could see right through her. Gripping the reins in her leather gloved hands she looked over to the man standing beside him. He was rather handsome with frost touched dark curls and a scruffy beard. She wondered who he was, feeling a blush rise to her face as he looked down at her. Focusing on the speech, she shrugged off the thoughts of the man, it was not something she should concern herself with.

The Lord Commander’s words made her throat tighten, it certainly was a second beginning for her, a new life as a completely different person. She felt herself swell with pride, she would be one, a Brother and protect the lands south from the dangers of the wilds in the north. Let the lords squabble and fight, let the King rule she would be above it all, wearing the black upon the Wall. Casting a look at the boys and men who shuffled through the gates, she got the sense they held no pride in their hearts for what they were to become. Fear and resignation for the most part on their faces and a few envious and curious glances her way. Riyana dismounted and approached the inner court of Castle Black, leading her rough haired garron with the heavy saddle bags. Her sword was a rarity and none had a bow, she began to worry that her equipment would bring too much attention.

One of the Brothers stood in front of them getting their names. Odd nicknames and peasant surnames were the most common and when he came to her, Riyana kept her gaze on the ground. The voice she practiced was low pitched, husky and throaty but soft, without the adolescent cracking and she spoke barely above a whisper, “Brydan Rivers.”

The older man squinted at the youth he saw, bright red hair cut short but starting to grow out, smooth cheeked and fine featured, too pretty for his own good. “Speak up, lad. Name and age?”

Riyana cleared her throat, speaking louder though controlling the timbre, her voice sounding slightly raspy and smoky, “Brydan Rivers, sixteen.”

The man tongued the inside of his cheek at the name, raising an eyebrow, making a mark on his parchment,“Well...another Riverland bastard. Sixteen my arse...shouldn’t you be some hedge knight’s squire with all that gear? Assuming you can use any of it.”

He smirked, looking at the slightly built boy and the weapons, snorting derisively before moving onto the next. Riyana touched her sword on her hip, most would look at her as a boy and think he was too soft and small to ever be a knight, though some assumed she might grow a little. She was not incapable of fighting and was quite fierce and fast but the strength she would need to carry the armor and weapons of a full heavy knight would probably never develop. She rubbed the worn pommel and looked up as the man continued to speak with the others. Riyana breathed a sigh of relief, he had believed her to be a young man and nothing but the suspicion of his good gear had raised an eyebrow.

Her attention was brought to the man who had stood with the Lord Commander as he approached the cluster of recruits. In a closer inspection, she could see he was rather worn, his handsome face weathered but what caught her gaze was the lavender shade of his eyes. Her lips parted slightly and she had to look away lest he catch her gawking.

 

[Rivine]

Once the Lord Commander had finished speaking Vorian stepped up beside him, whispering in his ear, "Well you didn't scare any off. Want to try again?"

The older man glanced at him, a bit of humor glittering in his eye as he told the ranger, "Get to work."

He inclined his head ever so slightly and then stepped back, heading toward one of the stair wells leading down. Already he could hear the master-at-arms crying out orders to the recruits, getting them separated. Vorian was familiar with the man, Ser Donte Garland, a man who had been with the watch for just shy of thirty years. His thoughts could not help but turn to how the master-at-arms arrived at Castle Black as he descended the stairs...

Donte had been a young man when the Third Blackfyre Rebellion began, all of twenty two years old. He, like many young men in the Reach, had been knighted without seeing much if any battle. So when the rebellion began and his house threw in with the Blackfyres, he'd been elated, wanting to prove himself. Of course that elation melted away in his first real battle, as it did with moth men. But he had maintained enough poise to prove himself, fighting bravely throughout the war. But his efforts and those of his house were to no avail. His father died and his two elder brothers were taken captive and put to death. Donte's fate was not so dire, but it meant the end of his house, for he was sent to the Wall.

As Vorian reached the square he saw the older man, who he had once fought on the battlefield, he could not help but marvel on how the Watch brought former enemies together. There were men who had fought on opposite sides of civil wars, outlaws and knights, paupers and lords. The Watch was a melding pot, a place where the high and low of society, more of the latter these days, were formed into one unit. Or that was the idea at least.

Moving through the new recruits his eyes moved around, looking closer at the men. They were moving into groups, the old men together, those without a bit of hair on their cheeks and those in between. It was a system that Ser Donte had instituted, one that helped to speed up training. The boys would just get rudimentary training, for they would learn more as they aged, while the older men had little, for they would not see much combat. It was those of the right age, from fourteen too fifty, that the most time would be spent on.

He said a few words to some of the recruits as he went by, asking a few of them where they were from and such, but he didn't spend too much time with them. Then his eyes fell upon the fire haired youth that he had singled out earlier. Vorian brought a hand up to his salt and pepper beard, rubbing at it a little bit as he considered how to approach the youth. Well there was a hell of a lot do saw for charging right in, so here it went...

Vorian stepped up to the young man, holding out a hand, "Welcome. I am Vorian Dayne, one of the rangers that will be helping with your training. I noticed that you were not with the others. Might I know your name?" It was simple enough, but it was a start. A smile formed on his lips as he went on, "And with your own equipment even. We are not going to have a knight chasing you down and demanding that we give it back?" he jested.

 

[heartlesskitten]

Riyana shuffled over to her group, boys and men that looked older than she and were for the most part taller and broader of shoulder though some of the poorest were skinny and short, due to malnourshiment rather than blood. While she was not very big herself, she was well fed and her lean muscles developed from her time with Dallin in the courtyard of the Rysell keep. The wool of her cloak trimmed in heavy black bear fur that kept her neck warm and made her seem broader than she was. She kept her head down, glancing at the ones around her who eyed her with curiosity or amusement and some with envy at her possessions and horse. Her nerves were still on edge as the Master at Arms passed her, taking the name she gave and asked no more questions of the boy he saw. Flexing her hands in the black leather gloves she looked up as sensed someone approach.

It was the man who had stood with the Lord Commander during the short, terse speech. He singled her out and she took a deep breath, trying not to stare at the man's unusual lavender colored eyes. She had never seen such a color, not here in the north. Riyana clasped his hand, squeezing it firmly and gave a small bow, speaking low and in that smoke soft voice, a brief hint of a smile making a slight creases of dimples flash on the smooth pale cheeks, "Brydan Rivers, sir. And do not worry, it is my own."

Riyana bit the inside of her cheek hard, Dallin had warned her about smiling or laughing, it would make her too appealing, not only to a man that might suspect her real sex but for those that preferred boys. So as much as she wanted to she did not react to the man's joke that she might have robbed a knight. Pressing closer to the dark garron, she held her tongue, her fair freckled face remaining still. "Will I be a ranger then?" she asked, unable to hold back her curiosity. She would never be a builder, she had no skill for that and being a steward seemed boring though essential, it was the rangers that had captured her imagination. Their forays into the wild for weeks and months, the tip of the bright sword that held back the darkness beyond the Wall. She had always enjoyed being allowed to take long rides and to go on hunts normally unattended by women but her father indulged his only surviving child at a time. Until that day...Riyana blocked the thought, unwilling to proceed down that shadowed path, not now.

There was a rise in voices at the gate and Ser Garland, the Master at Arms looked up with a bemused expression as one last straggler came into the courtyard of Castle Black. It was a thin boy of around thirteen or so, tall and gangly with a swollen black eye and a busted lip. He carried nothing but a small sack and a moth eaten cloak around his narrow shoulders. His face was full of resentment as he spotted the bright red hair, his mouth curling in a snarl and he made a bee line for Riyana, "This is all your fault you bastard!"

Riyana turned quickly, her hand instinctively going to her sword when facing the angry boy. Under the watchful eyes of Vorian Dayne and Ser Garland, she made no move to pull it, enduring the string of accusations with a cool expression and flashing blue eyes, even when he got in her face.

"I had it fine until you got me in trouble," he hissed.

"You should not have tried to steal from me," she replied quietly, "The fault is your own."

The boy sneered, "The whores told me you were too afraid to lay with them, what's the matter don't your little prick work or do you like other m-"

His words were cut off when the heavy hand of Ser Garland landed on his shoulder, turning him around, "Enough of that. What's your name boy?"

The whore's son had no fighting words for a man like the Master at Arms and he visibly shrank, "Cason...from Mole's Town."

"A Black bastard no doubt," laughed one of the older stewards, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he stepped back from skinning a deer, "Which one of you will claim him?"

A few dark chuckles were heard among more uncomfortable looks at the pointed barb. It was a fact that some men went hunting buried treasure despite their vows, likely claiming they took no wife or passed no name onto any son as a loophole in their vows. The boy blushed hard, his lantern jaw jutting out with stubbornness and he snapped, "That ain't true!"

"Quiet," the Master at Arms muttered, then wrote the name down before glancing at Vorien. "Work cut out of us again, eh?"

 

[Rivine]

As the youth took his hand, Vorian could not help but notice how soft the lad's hands were compared to his own, nor how much thinner his fingers were. It was clear that the young man, whoever he was, was not some pauper that had made off with a knight's equipment, that was sure. When the youth gave him his name and assured him that he had not stolen the equipment, the Dayne nodded a bit. "Well, that is a good thing lad," the man replied, then flashed the other a small smile, "And we're glad to have people that know their way around weapons. Even if they're unbloodied yet."

But when the lad suddenly asked him if he was to be a ranger, Vorian could not help the smile that came to his lips. The seemingly starry eyed question caused him to have a feeling of nostalgia. He had once harbored thoughts in his youth that being a member of the Watch would have been something wonderful, honorable, glorious. Vorian, like many, had grown out of those fantasies, but there was something about the young man's question that made him think that the youth had not. "We will see lad," the experienced ranger said, then motioned to the bow the youth had and added, "But if you are any good with that, I can say that you stand a good chance."

But his attention was pulled away from Brydan as a straggler came in. The boy looked thin and had obviously had a bit of a rough time if his face was any indication. However, it was what the youth said to Brydan that made him raise his eyebrows. Well, this was interesting enough. Vorian though stepped back, curious to see how the two settled this. Would things come to blows between them or not? He noticed how quick Brydan was to move his hand to his sword, which caused a small frown to form on his lips. If the Riverlander was going to pull the blade he knew all to well that he would have to intervene. Of course there were murderers in the Watch, but the Watch also needed every man, so anyone who killed a Brother was always dealt with swiftly. The two youths might not have been members of the Watch yet, but they would be soon enough.

However, Brydan showed restraint, despite the rather crude statements that the other youngster made. Vorian would have been lying if he had said that he had not been impressed by that. He stepped up and put his own hand on Brydan's sword arm, hoping to calm him as Donte did the same with the other young man. He leaned in, saying softly in Brydan's ear, "Take your hand off the sword. There is no need for that amongst Brothers."

Having said that he barked out a laugh at what the steward had said about Cason, their newest recruit. "Well I doubt he is one of mine. Doesn't have my eyes," Vorian stated, the implication clear that he had visited Mole's Town before.

The steward, being the quick witted type, quickly retorted, "Oh? He must be the only one then!" That elicited more chuckles from some of the Brothers, Vorian included.

The lavender eyed man retorted sharply, "Well then, he must be yours Ben," as he spoke to steward who had made the joke in the first place. Said steward promptly shut up as he glanced around. He was, after all, one of the many brothers who paid visits to the brothel. Vorian looked to Cason and smiled to the boy, "Do not worry yourself lad. You need not be ashamed here. We are all Brothers."

But when Garland spoke, saying that they had their work cut out for then, Vorian grunted. "Aye, we do. And these lads have work ahead of themselves too," he said. The Dayne patted Brydan on the shoulder an he said, "Go see old Ben over there. He'll get you billeted. Once have your things put away then come back out to the yard and we'll get to work."

Having all the recruits get their bunks first would allow Vorian and Donte some time to plan things. Once the youths had moved off he moved over to the mater-at-arms and said to to other man, "An interesting lot this."

The knight grunted a bit at that and then replied, "Aye. I'll be needing your help with this lot. Haven't had this many recruits at once in awhile. I have Gerard seeing to the boys while Felyn handles the old men. You and I will split up this other lot. One handle the bows and the other swords and the like. You have a preference?"

Vorian shrugged a bit, then said, "I'll work let you take them through some basic drills with both first. Then I'll pick out those that seem to have more experience and potential. Sound good?"

The other man smiled and said, "Aye, that's fine by me."

 

[heartlesskitten]

The restraining hand was not needed but the whispered words reminded her of what Dallin, her father's master at arms, often said. That a man does not pull a blade unless he means to use it. Despite her dislike of Cason, she did not want to cut him down for mere insults, it was just a defensive gesture. Vorian's admission that he visited the brothel enough to have fathered bastards made her shoulders sag slighty. Her first impression of him, with his tall handsome form and lilac eyes were one of a lord of the south, come to do his duty to the realm. Instead, he was like the rest of them. Riyana listened to their laughs and she sighed inwardly, the Night's Watch, once the selfless and noble was just a den of misfits and n'er to wells. Her full lips pressed in a line when he patted her shoulder and she nodded, giving him a small bow.

After taking her garron to the stable and see him settled in she gathered her things and went to the barrack. Her heart pounded and she swallowed hard as she entered the room full of men and boys. With trembling knees, she sought out a bunk far away from the rest, trying to put as much distance as she had not been prepared for the closeness of the sleeping arrangements. Cason spotted her and sneered, "Look at the River bastard, he's shy."

One of the older men glanced up, "Might wanna sleep a bit closer, little red. Nights get cold up here and the fire is far from your chosen bunk."

"I'll be fine," she muttered.

"Too shy for whores or men," Cason laughed, wincing a little at the soreness of his split lip and he felt the fresh anger at the person who had beaten him, "Maybe he's a eunuch. I bet you ain't got a set of balls on you."

Riyana flashed her icy blue eyes at him, "Maybe I don't want to catch some pox your slut of a mother passed on to you."

Cason crashed over the bunk to get at her and she was ready for him. Catching him as he swung, she drove her knee sharply up into his balls, causing the wind to be knocked out of him and he gasped loudly, grabbing at his crotch. Riyana dropped him and swung around to face the others, "Looks like he's not gonna have balls if he keeps it up."

The boys snickered and one of the men glared, "You're a dirty fighter, Rivers."

"A fight is dirty," she replied calmly, stepping over Cason. Her heart betrayed her cool exterior, it was thumping wildly at the rush of adrenaline and the fear the other men would jump in to defend him. There was already proving to be a difference between them.

"Lad deserved it," one of the other boys said, a dark haired lad with light hazel eyes. He was young but tall and broad of shoulder, still loose limbed in is youth but with decent food and excerise would fill in with muscle, "Ain't none of his business where another sleeps."

Riyana gave him a nod and he extended his hand, "Tomis. From King's Landing."

He said it with a sense of pride, a boy from the big city, even if it was Flea Bottom. Certainly he was not the only one and Riyana shook his hand, "Brydan Rivers, you can guess where I'm from."

Still on edge, the reply was sharper than she meant but the boy grinned anyway and went over to Cason, pulling him up, "And you, black bastard, you need to learn to protect yourself or you're going to be plucking hens until you die."

"Aye," Cason grunted and glared at Riyana, "So what? Ain't no different here or at the brothel, except you lot are uglier to look at."

Tomis laughed and gestured to Riyana, "That one's for the rangers, I'm sure of it. And so am I, if I've got to take the Black, I'll at least have some fun."

"Fun? You call tramping through the snow for weeks on end, getting your fingers and your pecker froze off if you're not butchered by some wildling fun," Cason countered, "I'll stay by the fire and pluck the feathers from the ass of chickens, thanks."

"Are you craven?" Tomis asked, his golden brown eyes narrowing.

Riyana saw Cason stood up straighter before he made a rude gesture, "No I'm just not blinded by stories. I grew in the shadow of the Wall, remember I'm a black bastard. I've seen enough to know being a ranger is good if you don't fancy living to be a graybeard."

Tomis snorted and gripped Cason's bony shoulder hard, "You sound like an old graybeard. Hey, Brydan, doesn't he sound like an old man, scared of his own shadow."

Riyana raised an eyebrow, "He sounds like someone who doesn't want to be here, like most of the rest. I don't really care, I've fought him twice and wouldn't want the likes of him backing me up."

Cason curled his fist and said nothing, "You both are fools, go on and play at being knights of the Watch. I don't want any part of it. I'd rather be at home."

One of the men laughed, "I would too if I was surrounded by all that treasure!"

"You still have lessons," she replied in her soft low voice, "Vorian Dayne is waiting, we best not make him wait too long."

She checked her sword and dagger, keeping her cloak on as it added to her size and with measured strides, walked out of the barracks. Long had she practiced walking so that she did not sway her hips like a woman and it was still something she had to check herself on. Tomis was after her, trotting to catch up with her, Cason and the rest straggling behind. "You know who he is?"

"The Dayne?" she asked, "He's a southerner for sure, those eyes...very unusual."

"Aye that they are," Tomis replied, glancing at her sword, "I can't wait to get my own. He's a lord I hear, or he was."

"I'm sure he was," Riyana said, not wanting to speak too much, keeping her voice neutral and she had to remind herself during fights not to shriek or yell as it would be high pitched. Silence was best for her.

Tomis chattered about lords and houses of the south, rattling off many that she had recognized and some she did not. Her own house was a minor one, Rysell mostly known in the North and the Riverlands, she doubted the boy from King's Landing would have even heard of the black stallion with the flaming red mane sigil. A small smile threatened when she glanced down at her black clothing and realized she must look quite the Rysell now. Her gloved hand ran through the cropped bright copper hair, ruffling the locks that were starting to grow out.

The dozen or so recruits stood in a loose circle, glancing around nervously as most had never used a weapon, let alone had lessons. Riyana stood still, keeping her shoulders back and did not arch her back or jut out her hip to keep from looking anything but a boy. Her hands were crossed in front of her, fingers clasped as she waited for what orders Vorian might give. Her blue eyes ran over the other recruits, some were men well grown and strong, backs and arms thick from hard labor and she worried about going up against them. Dallin always told her that her speed was her asset, she would never have the strength to go blade to blade and he tried to help her learn to adjust her style to suit her abilities.

 

[Rivine]

Donte smiled a bit, then said, "Well come on. We need to get some stuff from the armory."

Vorian nodded and walked with the master-at-arms to the armory. The two of them began to take down wooden swords as well as padded armor. As Vorian filled his arms he said to the other man, "You know, I think that this group has a fair number of potentially good candidates."

The other man looked over at him, "Think so? I think I saw some that could make good rangers. Especially that lad you kept from pulling a blade."

Dayne nodded slightly, then commented, "Aye. He does seem to be have some training already." Having said that he walked back out to the courtyard, toting a dozen of the wooden blades. The other man joined him and soon enough they had several dozen suits of the padded armor as well as various different kinds of wooden weapons, from swords to spears and everything in between.

As they stood there waiting for the recruits to come back from being billeted Donte glanced over at the dark haired southerner and asked, "So, what happened out on the ranging?"

Vorian glanced at his companion and shrugged a bit, "Wildlings. Too few of us to fight them. You know how it is. Cut your way through. Run for your life."

The other man shook his head a bit before he said, "The patrols seem to be getting smaller and smaller. Which leads to more of us dying. Fewer and fewer of us." The master-at-arms sighed a bit, then murmured, "And I am stuck here now, training all the new ones. Seeing them go. Never seeing them again." A sad smile formed on his lips as he went on, "There are fewer of us here that have some kind of honor. I mean, you're not one of that number..

That promptly earned him a punch in the arm from Vorian.

Smiling Garland added, "But I at least know that you won't stab me in the back."

Vorian grunted a bit, then jested, "Oh I think it's you lads from the Reach who like to stab each other."

But before Ser Donte could retort, the recruits began to arrive. As they came into the courtyard Vorian took those of prime age to be trained for combat, waiting for them to move over to him before he spoke, "I'm not going to give all of you some pretty speech. You're reason for being here is simple enough; to become members of the Night's Watch. For those of you that are here as punishment, there is no leaving unless you wish to face punishment," it was at this point that he drew his sword, an oddly curved blade that looked rather wicked, then went on, "For those that have volunteered for this... well now you learn what this is all about."

The southerner sheathed his blade, then said, "Alright. I want all of you to get this armor on. Take a weapon that you favor for fighting up close. All of you might not end up as rangers, but that doesn't mean you won't fight. We all fight. As the warriors that guard the realms of men, it is our duty. So let's get too it. Break off into pairs after you're armored and armed."

 

[heartlesskitten]

Riyana put on the padded armor, similar to what Dallin would have her and his lads dress in when they practiced. Same as the wooden swords and practice spears. Squatting down, she picked up a sword, checking the balance, it was heavy and more club like than a blade but it would do. Tomis selected a sword as well, grinning widely as he gave it a few swipes. Cason grumbled as he searched through the pile, finding a spear. It reminded him of the pitchforks he had wielded before at a bandit or two that dared try to rob from the stable, whatever was there was for his taking not theirs. He shot a glare at Brydan who stood with his real sword and dagger on his belt and the redhaired recruit returned the icy glance. She was not going to spar with him, it would be too much trouble. She stood next to Tomis who was nearly a head taller than her but she found him much more agreeable and eager as she was to prove himself.

She listened attentively when Vorian spoke, he reminded her of the lords and knights she had known only with his black gear, handsome features, and vivid lavender eyes he was rather striking. Riyana found herself wondering what he must have done to end up here, certainly he must have come from a world even more privileged than her own. Her mind was brought back to the task at hand when he had them divide up and begin with basics.

Riyana looked at Tomis and struck at him, catching him in the upper arm. The taller boy winced and frowned, lifting his sword up defensively.

“Well, you just got your arm lopped off. Better move faster next time,” she taunted, a brief flicker of amusement before she remembered to keep her face neutral and reminded herself to shut up. This was not Dallin she was playing with who would remind her of the gruesome real injuries and deaths that occur in fighting. The master at arms for the Rysell’s took much glee in taunting his young student and reminding her it was not a game. She caught Tomis’ swing and countered it with ease, he was strong but very green. The went through basic motions and from what she could see not many had skills above using the pointy end the right way. Feeling confident, she battled back against the city lad, backing him up until he slipped in horse shit and went down to one knee where she put her wooden blade against his throat.

“Dead,” Riyana whispered in her husky voice.

Cason jabbed at the older man who was his partner. He was in his mid twenties and little distinguished him but for his crooked nose that had broken badly at one point or another in his life. The bruised boy came at the man who only called himself Cam who also used a spear. They smashed each others fingers more often than not and neither one landed a strike on the other.

Riyana sparred with Tomis and each time she beat him back until even the good natured grin left the boy’s face and he fumed with frustration. A small smirk played on her lips and there was satisfaction in her bright blue eyes that she could beat any man among the recruits. Dallin would say it was a rather empty victory but it made her feel good none the less. Spinning the wooden sword in her hand she raised her eyebrow at Tomis who once again dragged himself up from the mud. He was filthy and his knuckles bled from being rapped with the wooden sword and a welt rose on his cheek where he had failed to block her strike. She regretted that one but he should have blocked it. All the while she shot glances at Vorian, to see his reaction to her skills.

 

[Rivine]

Vorian stepped back as the recruits began to don their armor and also grab the weapons that they wanted. For his part he reached down and removed his belt, wrapping it around his sword and dagger, setting them aside. By then the recruits had paired up for the most part, save for one hulking fellow who held a wooden stand in for an axe in his ham sized hands. The ranger moved forward and picked up a wooden sword for himself and walked over to the man, "I will work with you."

The other man blinked a bit, then arched an eyebrow and said, "You want to fight me?" As the man spoke his hands visibly tightened on the haft of the axe, to the point that his knuckles turned white.

The lavender eyed man smiled and nodded a bit, "Aye, I do. What is your name?" he asked the towering fellow.

The tall man looked at Vorian for a few moments, then smiled, "The name is Devin." Then, without saying another word, he charged Vorian, swinging wildly.

Dodging the first several attempted strikes deftly, Vorian then stepped under the next swing, lunging past his opponent as his blade struck at the man's stomach and then, once he was passed him, touched the back of his neck. "Do not be so aggressive," he said to the larger man. "You leave yourself open by allowing all of your momentum to be directed forward like that."

Devin nodded a bit and then they went at it once more, though Vorian once again defeated him handily. Afterwards the Dayne stepped back and looked around, watching some of the other recruits. It was then that he saw Brydan and one of the other recruits. A small smile formed on his lips as he watched the redheaded lad beat the other down once and then again. Well, now it seemed like a lesson was needed for both of them. He off, moving around the recruits, slowly snaking his way over to where Brydan was once again beating down another recruit.

Just as the next blow was about to land on the mud and blood spattered lad Vorian used his own sparring blade to block the strike. "That is enough," the lavender eyed man said to the redhead. He used a bit of muscle to push the teen a few steps back, then went on, "This," motioning to the other boy, "Is not the enemy. He will be your brother. Your objective here is to help him become better. By beating him over and over, what does he learn? He was not trained by your father's men-at-arms, like you were. You could have told him to stand with one leg back rather then having them be side by side."

He raised his voice then and looked around, "All of you! If you know anything about fighting, help your partner!" This was also a test of another sort, allowing Vorian to sort out those that had issues with authority and team work.

His eyes drifted to Brydan and he said, "Do it right. Understood?"

 

[heartlesskitten]

Riyana was rather surprised at the blocked shot though not that it was not Tomis. The boy could talk but he lacked speed of anything but his tongue. Vorian pushed her back and she put down her wooden sword, wiping at the sweat that trickled down the side of her face. She was about to argue that it was not she that was the instructor but his next words made her shut her mouth. Tomis was going to fight beside her, then she would want him to be capable.

“Like he said,” she spoke up, clearing her throat to sound a bit more boyish, “Keep that leg back, no the other one, lead off with your strong side.”

Their practice went on and Tomis grew more confident in his abilities though it was only the first day and he would need much more improvement before allowed a real weapon. Even Cason improved though he was not very good with a sword, his spear work was better than most. Her body ached, she had worked harder today than she ever did with Dallin, her knuckles bloodied and swollen from taking hits from the practice swords.

She glanced a few times at Vorian, to follow his instruction or to see his reaction to this move or that. It was hard to look away from his eyes, they were so unusual. Dangerous, she told herself and ducked her head, going to fetch a drink of water to set her mind right. Very dangerous to draw any attention to herself. Breathing out she flexed her hands, she was better than the rest but as the Dayne said, they were all brothers. Part of her worried she would not improve if she had to baby sit the others, perhaps she should ask Vorian to spar with her. Arching her fine ginger eyebrow she caught his eye again, this time holding his gaze and she put her hands on her hips unsure how to ask or whether she should or not. He was the instructor, she was merely another recruit, it would be presumptuous of her to speak up about anything. Changing her mind, she looked away, taking up her wooden sword again.

 

[Rivine]

Vorian looked at the young recruit after he had blocked the lad's strike, seeing a look in his eyes. There seemed to be a bit of defiance there, a hint of rebellion, but Brydan did not do anything or say anything. Instead, after the brief moment, the young redhead spoke to the other recruit of how he should handle himself. "Much better," Vorin said softly and moved away slowly, still watching the youths as they spared. He went about correcting others in much the same way, having the stronger of the two help the weaker. Over the day several of them showed a marked improvement, which gladdened him a good deal.

As the hours passed he began to start to rotate the recruits. It was while he was having partners switch that he noticed Rivers looking at him, meeting his eyes. The older man arched an eyebrow as he looked at the lad, wondering what that was about. He made his way over to the lithe lad, asking him, "What is it Brydan? Something on your mind?"

His attention was pulled away for a moment when he saw Devin charging another of the recruits he was sparing with. "Devin! More control! You are not actually trying to kill him!" Vorian called out.

The big man faltered mid charge, then blinked a bit and said, "But he jabbed me with the end of his stick!"

The Dayne rolled his eyes a bit at that and then retorted, "Then don't let him! How about you practice preventing him from doing that?"

Devin considered a moment, then replied, "Yeah, probably don't want to get jabbed."

"No, no you do not want to get jabbed. But don't brain one of your brothers either. Alright?" Vorian suggested. The larger man nodded and seemed to take the advice readily enough, for he changed his tact when the sparring resumed. That done Vorian let out a sigh, then glanced around. All of the other recruits had a partner, save for Brydan. His eyes drifted back to the youngster, then he tapped the end of his practice sword against the ground before he casually brought it up in a low guard, his movements casual. "Alright then Brydan. It looks like you have me for a partner."