The Archer
Chapter 15
The Archer
The journey to White Harbor had been rushed yet pleasant for the most part. Robb was not the worst of company to keep and Hermione could admit she appreciated having Grey Wind with them. At least Robb could hunt well, and even if he wasn’t the most studied of botanists, he could at least tell poisonous plants from edible ones. His skills came in handy and allowed her to conserve their provisions.
She had gotten some bread, smoked sausage, goat’s milk, a crate of vegetables, and a hunk of cheese for her travels, though she already intended to do some foraging in order to stretch it as far as she needed between settlements.
Robb had been audibly confused when she told him how much they had, especially since he didn’t see any way her few saddlebags could hold the amount of food she had gotten. But she held out a pretty beaded handbag (which Hermione had been gifted from Sansa on her sixteenth birthday) that was no bigger than the size of both her palms and told him the majority of her belongings were being kept in it. As a demonstration, she reached inside up to her elbow and pulled out the milk, bread, and sausage, cutting off a slice of each and handing him a portion for their noon meal.
The meat and bread were soft and fresh, and the milk was sweet and ice cold. Once more, Robb wished dearly out loud that he could do magic, too. Hers may not have been the kind of power or enchantments that he had heard stories about, such as the magic Bran the Builder had used to keep the White Walkers out of Westeros, or the kind of blood magic that the Valerians had used on their dragons. There was no aim for power or control that Harry and Hermione were working towards. Rather, their magic was just useful, for every day sort of things.
That was why Robb liked it, or so he told Hermione.
It made her wonder if, perhaps, the sorcerers of long past had only focused more time on improving the day to day lives of regular people, rather than seeking grandeur control and power for themselves, maybe they wouldn’t have all died out in Westeros.
She had brought up the thought during their history lessons with Maester Luwin. In answer, he showed them both a link on his long chain made of Valyrian steel, and explained that only one Maester out of a hundred ever forged one. It represented the higher mysteries and research of magic and that Maester Luwin had studied them himself. All those who wore one of those links had also tried their hand at spells, but for all his efforts he got no more out of it than a hundred thousand men and boys before him.
Maester Luwin further affirmed that what Hermione and Harry could do, wasn’t anything like what he had studied in the Citadel. To put it plainly, it was remarkable and its practical application was beyond anything he could have imagined.
“For sure, your people must be quite the free and inventive thinkers to come up with the slew of spells you’ve managed,” he had told the two of them. The maesters in the Citadel were sure to find an interest in them, the very moment they arrived.
Now it would look like Hermione alone would need to win their interest. Girl or not, she was confident that even if they didn’t want to teach her, they would at least want to study her. She didn’t like the thought of being a lab rat but she would put up with it under the conditions that no harm was to be done to her or her wand and that she would have access to their library and lessons. It was a last resort really. She first intended to show them the letter of acceptance they themselves had sent to Winterfell for Harry, then the letters of recommendation she had from both Maester Luwin and Lord Stark.
Her only plans at this time were to get the maesters to so much as meet with her. Once more she was frustrated for the sexism of this stupid society.
Well, who cares! She thought, turning back to the bow of their boat. She was smarter than any man or boy that had ever climbed their steps and she would prove that! If they denied her still, then they just showed that they were fools and the country was doomed if it was left in the hands of halfwits like them.
If she were given the right materials and workforce, she could give them a true university, better even than the Citadel where only unwanted sons were welcomed. Hers would be one where anyone could come to learn anything they wished; physics, the sciences, logistics, architecture, agriculture, business, the arts, and perhaps magic, too. A great city of knowledge and research. Wouldn’t that be amazing?
But that wasn’t going to happen. She was set and determined to get home either through the Citadel or the magical means from the mysterious east. She hoped she wouldn’t have to resort to the latter as the things she heard from word-of-mouth stories and read in Winterfell’s books on Essos weren’t all very flattering. They still had slavery in that part of the world and the worst thing she could imagine was being caught and sold like some exotic animal to a vile master she would sooner bite the head off of in her wolf form than serve. For about the seventh hundred time she was grateful that she and Harry had learned such an ability. It was sure to come in quite useful.
They made good time, leaving the rowing of the boat to magic while they faced the day and kept an eye out for the harbor city they were after. They didn’t come across too many people on their journey, and Grey Wind normally smelt them before either of his humans had seen them, usually giving off a soft bark to indicate their rapid approach. In those instances, Robb would take up the seat in the middle and pretend to row, disguising the magic they were traveling under.
They had gotten a few curious looks from various passersby who were getting water and the like, though thankfully none seemed overly suspicious of the man and woman grown who traveled by boat with a small wolf pup and two sleeping steeds that looked small enough to be foals.
In time, the white towers of the harbor city came into view and Hermione enchanted the boat to steer back to shore. She made Robb stand look out while she tended to the boat and horses and soon, they were off again.
The entire city was encompassed behind thick white walls made from the same stone as its buildings. Hermione and Robb waited their turns in a short line as people prepared to be let inside through the Seal Gate.
“Lord Stark!”
Hermione and Robb both froze on top of their horses as one of the guards instantly spotted the young lord with his wolf and lady companion and ushered the two of them to the front of the line. At the mention of the regional warden’s house name, all the people immediately parted and allowed the lord and lady forward.
Robb stared at the man before him, not knowing the soldier to any degree, but Hermione suspected that the man recognized the young Stark when he accompanied Lord Manderly to Winterfell for Robb’s coming of age celebrations.
“You’re quite the last person I would expect to see today. What brings you to White Harbor?” The man asked pleasantly, switching his gaze between Robb and Hermione. She wondered what he might have been thinking. “Here to see Lord Manderly?”
“Not exactly,” Robb explained. Hermione wanted to close her eyes with dread. If Robb didn’t want to end up being sent back, he would probably need to lie to this man. The only problem was, she had never seen him lie before, and if he was anything like his father, he wouldn't manage it very well. What in the world was he going to say to this man to convince him to step aside and let them through? “I’m taking a bit of a leisurely trip. I’ve never seen our primary trade port before, and I had a bit of a whim to visit it.”
The soldier frowned by that. “While the king was visiting your keep? That seems a bit odd.”
“Yes, well, it is not for you, a soldier, to question the motivations of a high lord,” he stated, pulling rank on the man outright so this talk could be put to an end.
Realizing his mistake, the soldier bowed apologetically. “Y-yes, milord. Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”
“Have no fear. You are only doing your duty,” Robb light-heartedly pointed out. “I’d just prefer not to be interrogated for an outing. It is only I and my friend here today. We’re not here to knock down the walls.”
“A-as you wish, Lord Stark. Please enjoy your visit then.”
“I’m sure we will.” He returned the man’s nod, and with that, they were inside the walls.
Hermione felt the breath woosh out of her, and by the looks of it, Robb was equally relieved. “Oh boy, I thought for sure Lord Manderly would have had some kind of word from Mother or Maester Luwin by now.”
They moved into a clean and well-ordered square with a large fountain of a merman in the dead center of it. This was undoubtably Fishfoot Yard. Hermione recalled hearing about it from Maester Luwin and Lord Stark. There were several wide, straight, cobbled streets that led into the square. One of them likely led to the harbor and another to a shopping district. It would have been nice to browse the stores and booths but she really was pressed for time and wanted to find their ship as soon as possible.
Then again, maybe this could serve as an opportunity. She was convinced that Robb didn’t actually want to be here, but there was no argument she could make that would convince him to go back to where he belonged. Perhaps then, she could trick him. While the idea certainly made her feel a little bad, she knew that in the long-run it was better for him.
“Alright then,” Hermione announced, seeing a sign of a ship and an arrow that was leading down a street. She took that to indicate that the port was down that street. “I’ll go to the harbor and see about getting passage on a ship.” She handed him a pouch of money. “Why don’t you take this and see about getting some changes of clothes and supplies for yourself. I wasn’t expecting company, so I only grabbed enough for one.”
Robb was hesitant about accepting it. She knew that he had his own money, but he had been so hasty about his decision to follow her that Hermione correctly suspected that he had only grabbed the bare essentials for himself and had left the majority of his belonging and savings back home. She would have been surprised if he had bothered to grab any money at all. He looked back at her, uncertainly. “I wouldn’t want to use up your coins.”
“It’s alright. You can just owe me,” Hermione smiled.
Robb’s eyes narrowed at her and she hoped her attempt to get rid of him hadn’t been too transparent. “You’re not thinking of leaving me behind, are you?”
She feigned a scandalized look, which might have been a bit too big to be natural. “What? My lord, I am shocked—shocked!—that you would suspect such a thing from me.”
Robb wasn’t convinced and she honestly couldn’t say she expected him to be. It seemed her poor attempt was a little obvious.
“If you’re going to the harbor, take Grey Wind with you.” He ordered the wolf pup to follow her and not leave her side, though she wasn’t sure how much the dog actually understood. With all the direwolves so drawn to her though, she doubted Grey Wind would be as easy to get rid of as his owner. “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
Hermione wanted to groan. Now she really couldn’t get rid of him.
“See you in an hour,” she agreed. And they each went their separate ways.
Hermione managed to book passage on a trading galley called the Wind Witch, which probably had something to do with the decorative figure carved into its bow of a beautiful woman with long flowing hair and gown that looked to be caught in a heavy breeze. She felt a kinship towards the vessel, mostly in part because of its name. Wind Witch. She had her Grey Wind, and she was a witch, so she took it as a good sign. The captain was a Braavosi man with tanned skin and bright brown eyes whose name was Qos. He was willing to take the two passengers with their wolf and store their horses with the other livestock they were hauling, though the expense of it caused a significant decrease in her savings.
They would be leaving within the next few hours, just as soon as the sailors had finished loading up their provisions. Hermione had some time to kill, so while she gave her horse to one of the crewmen to load up, she took a seat on a half wall with Grey Wind and watched the activity of the harbor while they waited for Robb to return. Now that she had a moment to relax, she was beginning to feel the exhaustion of the last few days starting to catch up with her.
Just then, Grey Wind sensed something off in the distance and bolted off out of nowhere. Hermione leapt up to chase after. She came round a corner just in time to see him leap up onto a man who had just purchased a roasted eel on a stick from a food vendor. The pup stood on his hindlegs as his paws rested on the man’s chest, nipping at the food longingly.
“Grey Wind, don’t trouble that man!” She couldn’t believe the pup had done something like this. It was immensely out of character for him, especially. Shaggy Dog or Nymeria would have been more likely to do something of the like, but Grey Wind had always been fairly well-behaved. What in the world had caused him to do such a thing? She wrapped her arm around his scruff and pulled him away from the stranger, apologizing while doing so. “I’m so sorry, goodman, he’s pushy and nosey but I promise he’s normally quite harmless.”
She expected the man to be angry, but his gaze was curious as he looked at the animal. He was a large round man with dark hair, cut short, and a bit of fuzz along his jaw. He couldn’t have been much older than herself and seemed mild-tempered and very interested in Grey Wind, despite his attack to the man’s lunch. “Is that a direwolf?”
“Why, yes, it is. How could you tell?”
“Direwolves are native to the North and are generally larger than normal wolves,” he answered. She couldn’t see how the man was able to tell him apart from regular wolves though, since Grey Wind was still only the size of a pup. Perhaps he only suspected due to optimism. “Although, there hasn’t been a direwolf seen on this side of the wall in over—"
“Over a hundred years,” Hermione finished for him. “Yes.”
The man was now more curious than afraid. “Is he yours?”
“Well… yes and no,” Hermione answered. “He’s my friend’s. We’re traveling together at the moment.”
“Where to?”
“Old Town. Well, we’re going to stop in King’s Landing first and then we’ll be heading to Old Town through the kingdoms.”
“I’d love to go to Old Town,” he said wistfully. “Are you from the North then?”
“Not much north of here but the North,” she replied lightly.
“Right,” he chuckled bashfully. “Of course. I’m headed there myself.
“Where are you coming from?”
“The Reach.”
“Huh,” Hermione responded, tilting her head a bit at the strangeness to find him so far from his homeland. “I would assume that you being from the Reach yourself, you would have visited Old Town sometime before coming to the North, then.”
The man looked a little sad with that comment. “Yes, well, there’ve been some changes of plans for me.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Hermione pointed out.
“Oh, it’s fine.” He went quiet, leaving their conversation in an awkward place before Hermione found an opening to bring it back.
“I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Hermione, Hermione Granger.” She reached out to shake his hand and the man smiled, taking it and shaking it in greeting.
“Sam, Samwell Tarly.”
She recognized the family name from her studies on the Greater and Lesser houses. “I could be wrong, but isn’t Tarly a strong house in the Reach? A red archer for your banner sigil. You raise soldiers, right?”
His eyes lit up upon hearing that she knew of his family and their sigil. “You know your houses. Wait, are you a lady?”
“Not really. I’m a ward of the Stark family. Well… raised as a ward really.”
“The Stark family! That’s the highest house of the whole North! But I’ve never heard of House Granger. Your accent isn’t one I can place.”
Hermione only shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t have heard of it. I’m not from Westeros originally.”
“Where are you from?”
“Lorath.”
“Really? Don’t know much about Lorath other than what I’ve heard from some sailors so far. What brings you so far from home?”
“It’s a bit of a complicated story,” she explained, hoping he wouldn’t press her on the issue. Thankfully he was observant enough to tell she didn’t want to talk about it and decided on a different topic.
“Can I ask what you plan to find in Old Town?”
“Well, I’d like to see the Citadel. I need to find some special information and the Citadel is the only place I can think of that would have it.”
“Oh, I’d love to see the Citadel,” Sam announced, excitedly. “I’ve always thought I could join and become a maester.”
“I hear they have the largest library in the world.”
“You like books, too?”
“I couldn’t live without them.”
“No one could live without them!” Sam declared. “But no one seems to understand that!”
“I know! Have you read Maester Arwin?” Hermione rambled, glad to be talking about books with someone eager to listen. Sam was just as keen to talk about them and it seemed as though the two had come across a kindred spirit between each other.
“I love his work.”
“Me too. I enjoy the horticulture reading the most. Cures and medicinal plants are so fascinating. Did you know that a lot of potatoes are quite poisonous, especially wild ones? But there are special ways to prepare them that neutralize their natural toxins so they can be edible.”
“I’ve heard of that. A lot of the toxic properties are actually in their skins. If you peal and boil them it’ll flush the poison out and they’ll be safe to eat.”
“Did you also know that a person can live the rest of their lives on nothing but potatoes and butter? I learned that from a nutritional journal.”
“Potatoes are fine,” Sam agreed, “but they can’t hold a candle to the complexities of mushrooms.”
“Oh, I know! I love mushrooms,” Hermione declared, getting more and more excited to be talking about these things with someone who was interested. “There are so many kinds and uses for them, but you’ve got to be very careful when dealing with them. It’s fascinating how diverse and insidious they can be.”
“Exactly!”
They rambled on about all the different species found in the North and the Reach that they each had the privilege to study for their culinary, medicinal, and toxic uses.
“Things like that are amazing, aren’t they?” Hermione finally declared. “You should be a maester, Sam. What in the world brings you to the North in the first place?”
Sam looked away from her, his excitement deflating as he shared the true reason for his journey. “I… I intend to become a brother of the Knight’s Watch.”
Hermione was flabbergasted. Another promising man being wasted on that place! “Oh no. That won’t do. You’d be far better use as a maester or some sort of scholar.” It wasn’t her place to say so, but she just couldn’t stand by while the Watch swallowed up another perfectly decent man. First Jon and now Sam? “I just mean, I think you have potential for more rewarding opportunities, is all.”
Sam went quiet and his face turned pink. “The… the Knight’s Watch is a very honorable path.”
Hermione bent her head back and ranted at the sky. If she had to hear that line one more time… “Why do so many men lie to themselves about that? My friend Jon wants to become a brother of the Knight’s Watch and I honestly can’t imagine a stupider way to waste your life. He could do so much better!”
Her remark caught Sam’s attention. “Your friend Jon?”
“Yes. My friend Jon intends to take the Black, too.”
Sam smiled softly. “Perhaps I’ll say hello to him for you.”
A voice broke through their conversation and Grey Wind turned to rush down the street towards Robb, who now carried a burlap sack of newly purchased supplies. “Hermione. There you are. I thought you would wait at the peer for me.”
“Sorry. Grey Wind got away from me and we ran into Sam here.”
Robb came forward and the two men nodded in acknowledgment towards each other.
“Samwell Tarly,” Sam said.
“Not House Tarly from the Reach?” Robb said.
“The very same,” Sam answered sheepishly.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard your house raises soldiers. What brings a Tarly son to the North today?”
If it were possible, Sam looked even less thrilled to answer Robb than he had been with Hermione. “I… I intend to take the Black.”
“Oh really? Well, I’m sure the Watch will certainly welcome you with open arms. My half-brother Jon intends to take the Black as well. I hope you both will become good friends—or brothers, I guess.”
Sam nodded. “I certainly hope so.”
Robb placed a hand on the small of Hermione’s back. “Hermione we really should get going now.”
She nodded and began to turn. “It was nice speaking with you, Sam Tarly. If you do see my friend, say hello to him for me, and tell him I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry for leaving.”
Before they had gotten too far, Sam called back to them. “If you’re going through the Reach and your journey takes you through the foothills of the Red Mountains, perhaps you would like to stop at Horn Hill. I could write my mother, and she could receive you for a few days.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Hermione responded, though the offer certainly was kind.
“Please,” he implored with a hopeful gaze. “I’d like to. I could tell my mother I made some friends on my way to become a brother.”
It seemed like he wouldn’t accept no for an answer though, and Hermione nodded in acceptance. “Alright, then. That’s very sweet of you.”
Sam looked incredibly happy at the thought. “You could meet my sister and mother and they’re both very lovely. My brother’s not too bad either.”
“And your father? Randyll Tarly, isn’t it?”
Sam hesitated with any description of the man. In that moment, Hermione sensed that his decision to join the Night’s Watch may not have been his alone. “…He is… a skilled warrior.”
Her heart went out to him with those words as they hid a darker tone behind them. “…I hope you find what you are looking for at the Wall, Sam.”
“And I hope you reach Old Town safely.”
They all bid each other goodbye, and Hermione and Robb went back to the peer to board the ship. A wave of exhaustion hit Hermione the very moment they were inside their cabin. She had gotten very little rest on their journey. Between not sleeping at all the night of her departure as she had several notes to write, Harry to enchant, and all her supplies to pack, plus consistent traveling by horse and boat, she hadn’t found a moment to sleep even a wink. She lied down on the bunk and was out before the boat had even finished pulling out of the bay. The last thing she remembered was Robb throwing one of the thin blankets over her and saying he’d get their things sorted out so she could rest, now.
Author's notes: Hey y'all. Two chapters in and we can already see that the story is taking quite a different turn from what's in cannon. I hope you're enjoying the continuation so far, and if you have any thoughts feel free to drop a comment.