The Road
Author's notes: Sorry for the late update. This chapter was very difficult to write, for some reason. Probably because there's a lot that's about to be unpacked. I kept revising it because it felt like such a mess at times.
On a different note, it's my birthday today, so in celebration I'm going to try posting some fanart in the next few days, so keep an eye out for that. I might have them collected in one chapter for about week before distributing them throughout the story to their respective chapters, but I promise they're coming. In the meantime, here's the new chapter!
Chapter 24
The Road
Since their departure from King’s Landing, Robb and Hermione had been traveling with haste, though they could easily admit their journey together was overall quite pleasant, likely due to the ease that Hermione provided with her magic. They had ridden all day upon leaving the capitol and were both quite exhausted by evening. To Robb’s delight, when they finally found a spot, Hermione had constructed a circle of protection that encompassed their campsite. The circle, as she had explained, would keep strangers away, muffle their noise, and would conceal them so that it would seem like they didn’t exist to anyone outside, so there was no fear of being attacked by bandits while they slept, at least. As she did that, he busied himself with tending to the horses and helping her raise the tent. To add to his delight and shock though, the tent that Hermione had packed was enchanted with another enlarging spell so that it looked meager on the outside, but once he stepped inside, it was fantastically spacious with a main room organized with a wooden table, two chairs, pillows, rugs and a small iron stove, then two bedrooms with cots and furs for both of them, and a bathing room with a large wooden tub with all the cosmetics, likely brewed by Hermione herself.
Robb gazed around the magical treasure, once again taken in awe by Hermione’s foresight and ability, though she admitted that Harry and she had contributed to it together, which explained why there were two rooms already.
Hermione summoned hot water with her wand and suggested Robb take his bath, but he only insisted she do so first and he would get food started as he desperately wanted to prove his worth to her. She didn’t resist and disappeared behind the heavy curtain while he sorted out the food.
As delighted as he was with the accommodations she provided, it was starting to sink in for him that she may not have needed him as much as he expected. He was here to protect her, but it already seemed like she could plenty protect herself, if the circle around the camp was anything to go by. Not just that, but her magical abilities served her so much more conveniently than anything a guard or attendants could do. Robb felt desperate to prove himself somehow. Taking a bit of the burden off of her in any type of way, felt absolutely essential if he planned to impose his company on her.
She took her bath while Robb took inventory of the food they had left. At least he had gathered and hunted a bit for them during their brakes from riding. There was the crate of vegetables with potatoes, mushrooms, carrots, and cabbages, a crate of apples and mountain cherries, a jar of fat, a jug of cider, a bag of salt, a bag of flour, a jar of some brown powder that smelled very strong, eggs, some fresh forest greens, salt pork, a crate of various spices bought in King’s Landing, and a freshly dead pheasant hunted by him that same day and still needed to be gutted and plucked. Hermione hated doing that, so Robb eagerly took up the task then and there, glad he was good for something after all.
When she finished her bath, she entered the sitting room, smelling of her signature honey and lavender shampoo and looking refreshed with her curly hair still damp and now dressed in a simple light cream-colored robe. Robb had the bird nearly completely cleaned and had fed the guts to an eager Grey Wind, who, despite his treat, was still eyeing the bird with hunger while Robb continued to prepare it in front of him.
Hermione suggested he take his bath now, but he knew if he did that, she would just take up the task of dinner herself and Robb desperately needed something to do to feel even a little bit important to her. So, he stalled to help her prepare their meal. To his relief she didn’t seem to have any special spells for dinner and they prepared it together in the traditional way. Despite that, Robb had admittedly never cooked before, though thankfully he was able to watch Hermione carefully as she moved about chopping vegetables and adding spices. If a task seemed simple enough, Robb requested to do it instead, leaving Hermione with fewer responsibilities. While the food took time to cook, Robb found his opening to take his bath.
The water was still hot and clean by the time he entered the tub and he figured Hermione had cleansed and heated it again for his courtesy. As he relaxed into the blissful heat, Robb began to realize just how much his body was aching. He added oils to the water and used the shampoo and conditioner that were stored in a basket by the bath. He imagined that they had originally been intended for Harry because he came away smelling like mint and cucumber instead. He must have been in there for a while, because dinner was ready by the time he exited.
They feasted on a meal of roasted pheasant, spiced perfectly, forest greens, mushrooms, and fresh bread that had a dense heavy thickness to it. They even broke out the cider. When they were done, Robb leaned back, feeling better than he had in a long time. Hermione looked much the same.
“That hit the spot,” she sighed, relaxing into her chair as she rubbed her stomach with satisfaction.
Robb agreed, taking his time to move while Grey Wind fed on their leftovers. Eventually they took up the chore of clearing the table and washing the dishes. After that, they went to bed early, knowing they would have another full day of riding to look forward to.
Their pleasant evening ended with them falling asleep to the sound of crickets, owls, and the horses resting outside. And it turned out to be the best sleep that Robb had had since leaving Winterfell.
In the morning, Robb woke to a strange smell. Not saying it was unpleasant, quite the opposite actually. It was something earthy and bold with hints of a smoky robustness. It alerted Robb instantly and he sat up, taking deep breaths of the scent. What was that?
He emerged from his room to find Hermione already awake and preparing breakfast. He took only a moment to regret sleeping in so she had to take on yet another task, before his attention was drawn to the delicious smells filling up the tent.
“Morning,” Hermione greeted, pulling the kettle from the stove and taking it to the opening of the tent. She had arranged their table and chairs outside, so they could enjoy the warm morning as they broke their fast.
“What’s that smell?” Robb asked.
“Breakfast. Toast, salt pork, and eggs. Oh, I also made some coffee.”
Robb frowned as she poured something dark into two identical clay mugs. Was that what that brown powder had been? “Coffee? What’s coffee?”
“Try it. We used to import it from beans grown in a tropical climate back home, but there’s other ways to make it, too. Chicory root and mushrooms are one way. I had to do a bit of experimenting to get the blend just right. You want some?”
He shrugged, “I’ll always try something new at least once.”
Hermione poured him a mug and passed it over. “Just to warn you, it might take some getting used to. It’s a pretty strong blend. I take it black, but maybe next time you’ll want cream or sugar if we can find some.”
Robb took a sip, mindful of the heat radiating from the clay.
“Ugh! That’s terrible! That’s…” It took a moment for the taste to really sink in for Robb, but once he had been allowed to actually savor it, he paused to consider it before deciding to take another sip. A burst of energy shot through him with the flavor and he felt the remnants of his drowsiness fade quickly away. “Huh…”
“So, what do you think?” Hermione asked cautiously. “Not too gross?”
“I’ll admit, it’s a bit of an acquired taste—that I just acquired,” Robb muttered to the cup, taking another deep swig. It was smooth and robust. This was better than beer or morning tea. Hermione passed him a plate of food and they enjoyed their morning in bliss. The birds were chirping, the wind was soft and there were bees and butterflies that fluttered from one wildflower to the next. With the deliciousness of their breakfast, it was an exceedingly pleasant atmosphere.
“I could get used to this,” Hermione commented.
Robb had to agree. This was an excellent way to start a morning. In fact, this was an excellent way to camp and travel just in general. He was almost sad when it was time for them to pack up. Almost.
They rode together through the Kingswood and greeted peasants who were on their way to the capitol or just gathering in the woods. Eventually though, the sun peaked in the sky and became so hot that they both agreed they had to stop and remove a layer of their clothes. Hermione rode in a lighter green dress with short sleeves that complimented her brown curls more than her heavy grey northern gown ever had, and Robb found himself sneaking glances at her as they raced each other down the Kingsroad or when they were taking their breaks.
They spent the days of travel a lot like they had that first day, waking in the morning to the smell of breakfast being prepared by one or the other, preparing a light lunch from whatever leftovers they had, tending to the horses for a bit, breaking camp, and riding until the sun was high in the sky, signaling noon and their lunchtime. Then they'd find a quiet spot and rest for a bit while they ate and let Grey Wind play and the horses graze. Sometimes Robb would find games to play in order to pass the time, like a mind-reading game that he made up on the spot where they had to think of something and the other had to figure out what it was in thirteen questions or less. He had felt very clever to have thought of it in the moment, but it quickly became irksome because it was another thing that Hermione was easily better at than him. She had the advantage of already being familiar with everything he knew about and then would cheat by thinking about things he had never before imagined, like cars and toaster ovens and television sets, and it was all very frustrating because he was never able to guess what she was thinking about.
Some of the things she described sounded so fantastical that he was quite skeptical to believe those things could truly exist. A box that displayed moving pictures and sounds in full-length shows like tiny players living inside, had to be unreal. And he was supposed to believe that nearly every home had one of them?
Still, it got them talking more about the culture she was born to, and he came to learn that Hermione and Harry's world was actually divided into two distinct parts. A magical world and a non-magical world, or as she called it, the muggle world. She went on to explain that long ago the magical parts of their world had been feared and hunted by the muggle parts. As such, the magical parts had concealed and separated themselves from the muggle world. Now a days most witches and wizards didn't know anything about muggle culture, likewise the same was said for the muggles about wizards. In fact, there had been many magical enchantments put in place to keep them divided permanently so that their worlds couldn't cross one another. It wasn't just wizards that had gone into hiding but other sentient magical creatures, too. Creatures like goblins, centaurs, unicorns and dragons all existed completely separated from the majority of their world these days.
Robb came away from the explanation reeling.
"You-you have dragons? Living dragons?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I've even watched one hatch right out of its egg, in fact. It wasn't like the dragons here, though. They're completely wild and not good for training and you can't really bond to them the way the ancient Valerians used to do, and there's all kinds of species found all over the world. Asian lungs are really long, like snakes, and can fly without using wings. Then there's the European species which have four legs instead of the two we see in Westerosi history books. Those types are more commonly categorized as wyverns."
"Bu-but how do they not fly around and burn down every town they come across then?"
"Oh, they're mostly contained to territories high in mountain areas that can't be reached by muggles."
Robb couldn't believe it. Dragons were the most awesome force that Westeros had ever seen, and Hermione talked about containing them like birds in a cage and even witnessing one hatch as if it was as common as watching a cat give birth. The thought was so outrageous, more so than anything else he had heard so far, that he needed a moment to digest that information before he was brave enough to ask about anymore. He wondered what such a society was like, being powerful enough not to even notice the existence of a force like dragons. It was unreal!
They road in relative silence after that revelation until they managed to cross paths with a band of players on their way to the capitol and they all stopped to trade goods and information between their groups. This was one moment where Robb was finally able to shine. It seemed like Hermione didn’t know how to haggle so well, and Robb was eager to step up to fill that gap in her knowledge and skill. For his efforts, he was successful in managing an excellent deal for some of her salves and hair products and they came away with oranges, lemons, and a bag of dark beans that Hermione had been immensely excited over. At the end, they listened to one of the pipers play a pleasant tune before pressing on again. It was an exceedingly lovely way to spend a day, and they parted on good terms with some much-needed supplies and stories.
Often, they found plants that Hermione identified to be useful, and they took the time to gather them for either food or medicine. They spent a very pleasant afternoon harvesting blackberries and even discovered a honeybee hive not far from the bushes. They gorged on the fruit and fresh honeycombs with the bread left over from the night before and had such an energy from them that they boldly decided to swim a bit in a stream.
Robb had thought she would be reluctant to undress, especially since Hermione always seemed so guarded, yet she surprised him when she easily disrobed down to her undergarments without a shred of embarrassment. When he thought he might address it, she merely pointed out that he was entirely shirtless, so why was that okay and not her? He said no more about it and proceeded to cool themselves in the stream. They came away with such an exhaustion that they rested in a meadow with their cloaks and the tall thick grass beneath them while the horses grazed, and Grey Wind chased dragonflies.
They woke up to find that Hermione had migrated from her original position to tuck herself under his neck, practically cuddling against him in their sleep. It was comfortable enough but left them both blushing furiously and all but flinging themselves away from each other once they realized their positions. It was awkward for the rest of the day and their faces seemed to remain as red as cherries all until the next morning when he woke up to the soft sound of singing from the other room. He came to realize it was Hermione singing something from her native language and lied in bed to listen for a while. Hers wasn’t the prettiest voice he had ever heard, but it filled him with warmth to listen to her. He wondered what the song was about as she moved around, likely preparing their breakfast. Eventually he rose to help and soon the tent was filled with the delicious smell of pancakes, honeyed blackberry syrup, and coffee.
Hermione could tell that Robb was trying to be useful on their journey. Any task she didn’t have to do or didn’t have a spell to do it for her, he gladly took it up himself. Even if it was something he honestly wasn’t very experienced with, he’d improvise sufficiently until he found a better way to perform it. She appreciated the gestures even as she tried to explain to him that it wasn’t necessary. Yet he would hear none of it.
Eventually, she had to admit that perhaps having him accompany her had been the better option. It would have been lonely with just her and Whisper, and both Robb’s and Grey Wind’s presence provided a certain kind of security that comforted her, especially at night when sounds in the forest unnerved her, even as her circle of protection remained intact.
Then came the dreams. She didn’t know what it was about but for the past few nights, mostly since leaving the capitol, Hermione had been plagued with a vision of a certain reoccurring animal in her dreams.
The three-eyed fox.
Often, she would be in the middle of a perfectly normal vision and then from nowhere, it would be there, standing in the distance with its eyes staring into her. Sometimes she tried to ignore it or run away, but it would follow after, leaping and chasing her with a grace and agility that reminded Hermione of smoke on a breeze. And it would whisper things to her, often speaking in a language she didn’t know. Perhaps it was Old Tongue or High Valerian. She only knew a few words of either.
The one thing she was thankful for was the fact that the fox at least allowed Hermione to have a full night of sleep before appearing, because she often woke only when it was close to morning, which she appreciated. Still, its constant appearance was troubling. She wondered if she ought to bring it up to Robb, though she wondered if she would just end up worrying him for nothing. At last, she decided she would wait to voice anything about it until they reached the Citadel and she had access to the library to see if there was something in their records about reoccurring dreams of that sort.
When Hermione thought more on the issue, it eventually sunk in that this may have been a problem with divination, but the moment she realized that, she groaned. Of all subjects, divination was the least reliable. She hated any knowledge that was inexplainable, that didn’t have a set, irrefutable answer to it. Divination was one of those philosophical subjects that could have been interpreted in many different ways. Gazing into the future was simply a fool’s game. It didn’t help that most psychics and oracles riddled throughout history were infamously proven to be charlatans, like that fraud Trelawny, who didn’t know the shape of a hand from a giraffe in her silly tealeaves.
Even as Hermione knew better, the dreams continued. The fox kept coming and it kept whispering its strange, cryptic messages to her, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it besides try to ignore it.
So, they traveled on, following the kingsroad and camping where they could. It was hard for Hermione to admit, but she liked having Robb with her. She enjoyed his company and it seemed like he enjoyed hers. She supposed he would have to, if what the others had said was true about his feelings towards her.
She cringed every time she thought back to that. It just made everything so much more complicated. What was she to do if she returned those feelings?
Robb's voice broke through her thoughts as they rode on.
"What is your family like, Hermione?"
She took her time to answer him, savoring the memory of her mother's hugs and her father's jokes. She had done her best over the years to resist remembering them, fearful of the pain it caused, but Robb had been so kind when he asked her, that Hermione allowed the moment of weakness. "They are perfectly ordinary and the kindest people ever. They're dentists. Sort of healers for teeth, although Mum talked about maybe becoming an emergency responder someday--or a healer that helps gravely injured people who call on them for emergencies until they can find a proper maester."
"Really?" Robb screwed his face up, trying to envision such a thing. "What a fascinating occupation. Women become them as well?"
"All the time." She had originally been hesitant about telling him too much about her world and the inventions of their modern twentieth century society, but she finally came to realize that she trusted Robb and even if he told others about those things, it wouldn't do him any good. Few people would have believed there were things like radios, cars, and television. Talking about her family was a little easier to describe though, so she went on to tell him more about them, how they were muggles and how she had been raised in the muggle half of that world but had been born a witch and was therefore accepted into their magical schools and society. Hermione actually belonged to both parts of her world, Harry too, though that was another conversation entirely.
"How did you and Harry come to be here in our world, Hermione?"
He had asked them that question before, but their Common Tongue hadn't been very good at that time. Now it looked like Hermione was finally able to provide a proper answer.
"We were attempting to rescue someone, and it ended very badly for us. Harry accidentally broke an object of great power, and it sent us to this world."
"I see then. Why doesn't Harry believe you can go back?"
Hermione sighed, reluctantly remembering their last interaction and deflated. "There is nothing left for him back home. His mother and father were murdered when he was a baby and the relatives who took him in treated him very badly, and the last guardian that could have taken him in was framed for a very terrible crime. He was actually the one we were trying to save. Due to our failure, we've condemned him to a fate worse than death."
She glanced over at Robb and saw him staring at the back of his horse's neck without seeing it, the revelation distracting him. "I never knew that about him."
Hermione pondered whether she wanted to tell him more about that. It wasn't really her news to tell, but she doubted Harry would tell anyone himself, even if everyone in their world already knew all of it. "It's a big mystery. He's actually famous in our world."
Out of everything she told him, that snapped his attention. "What? Skinny Harry? Famous?"
"There was a sorcerer many years ago who was growing in power, and he was considered the darkest wizard of our time. He called himself... Lord Voldemort," Hermione had to pause for a moment because it was the first time she had been able to say his name out loud, even if it brought forth a terrible shudder and made it seem like all the birds had stopped singing. She reminded herself that if there was anything left of him, he was far, far away in a whole other world. He couldn't hurt them here, so she went on. "Anyone who stood against him ended up dead or worse. Muggles that crossed his path were fed to his twisted experiments. Their history books don't record it, but thousands were sacrificed to that madman. Harry's parents were people who fought against him. One night, Voldemort found where they were hiding and killed them both. Harry's mother died protecting him and Harry would have died too, but before she was killed, Lily (that was her name), wove a spell that would protect her son from Voldemort's wrath, but it required the greatest of sacrifices. After murdering her in cold blood and Voldemort turned to Harry, something went wrong with the curse he was using. It backfired, somehow and destroyed his mortal body. Harry ended up killing the worst man who ever lived as nothing but a one-year-old. That's where his scar came from, the lightning bolt on his forehead. That's why everyone in the magical world knows his name. He's the Boy Who Lived."
Robb again stared at his horse's mane; eyes wide as he took in the slew of information about his strange friend. "He's never said anything about that."
"Would you have believed it?"
"Of course not," Robb admitted.
"Well, there you have it. Harry would never bring something like that up here anyways. It caused a lot of problems for him back home, so I think he likes being just Harry here."
Their conversation was cut suddenly short when Hermione smelled something wrong on the air. Sensing it too, Grey Wind growled lowly, and someone stepped out of the trees to block their horses.
"Morning, milord. Milady." It was a rough-looking man with a long face and an unkept dark beard. He wore a brown leather gambeson and carried a wicked-looking axe. His smell was foul, even from the distance on their horses. Hermione and Robb knew what he was the very moment they saw him.
Bandits.
Honestly, they had been anticipating this. It had been such a lovely trip so far that they were surprised it had taken so long for them to finally come across some ruffians with ill-intent. Robb stared the stranger down while Hermione's eyes scanned the trees for more and took up her wand. This one was obviously the distraction. His band would be waiting somewhere out of sight, likely with crossbows aimed at the pair. The man went on, pleasantly. He smiled and revealed several browning teeth.
"Lovely day, in' it?"
"It was," Robb sneered with distaste.
"I hope you don't mind me stopping you--,"
"We actually do. We happen to be in a hurry so if you wouldn't mind getting out of our way..."
"I'm afraid we can't do that, milord." His reaction made Hermione want to roll her eyes, because of course he wasn't just going to make this easy for all of them. "You see, we've had a hard time of it as of late. Me and my brothers have taken it upon ourselves to patrol this road and keep it safe for fancy folk like yourself. Dangerous work, you see. So, occasionally we ask for a bit of donation to support our efforts."
"Is that right?"
"Well... and maybe we ask for some entertainment if we come across a pretty maid as well."
So, bandits and rapers. Hermione now felt zero confliction about hurting them justly.
"Where are the rest of your so-called brothers?" Robb demanded.
"Out of sight," the ruffian stated, unbothered. "If you comply without any fuss, you'll live through this."
Hermione noted his phrasing. "Living" did not mean "unharmed". She traded a look with Robb by that and in their expressions, they both knew what they would do.
"I think we'll take our chances," Robb declared. The bandit's smile didn't fade so he wasn't surprised with the refusal. Robb must not have been the first to refuse the vulgar option.
"If that's what you want, then." The man's hand waved in his face--a signal!
Out of the trees, something launched towards Robb's chest. A flash of purple ignited in front of his eyes, and he staggered a bit as whatever had been aimed for him touched him no forcefully than a light punch and then ricochet away as effectively as a stick being thrown at a stone wall. He gasped and blinked at what had struck him and saw a bolt from a crossbow lying in the dirt where it had nearly pierced his heart. His eyes turned down to the pin that Hermione had meant as a goodbye gift to him and saw tendrils of purple magic swirling around it.
Everything happened so fast in those next few seconds. Robb only had a moment to be distracted by his near-death as Hermione yelled when someone came out of the trees and tried to drag her off of her horse. Following a curse from her lips, a blast of red light threw her assailant away. Robb drew his sword as one on a horse broke from the trees and charged him. In the meantime, Grey Wind had raced towards the one that blocked their path and closed his teeth around his arm. Robb engaged the one on the horse while Hermione threw curses at any others that emerged to attack them.
Robb brought down his sword and the blade clanged against the bandit's own. Robb could feel the collision of the metal on metal down his arm through the rest of his body like a bolt of lightning. There was no time to think as he traded strikes back and forth with the villain but the moment he saw an opening, all thoughts and reason flew away as his blade plunged into the man's face and out the back of his head. It was the first time Robb had ever killed a man, yet he wasn't given time to think about it as the bandit fell from his horse, dead, and another appeared to take his comrade's place. That one ended much the same way, though he was lucky enough to graze his spear across the side of Robb's neck before Robb severed his arm and stabbed him in his chest, marking him as the second man to be killed by the young lord's sword.
It was a frightening sort of realization, but one he wasn't able to dwell on as he turned about to examine how Hermione and Grey Wind were fairing.
He found three more men scattered around the road in various states of disfigurement, victims to Hermione's curses, while the one that had stopped them in the first place was being ripped apart by the wolf. His arm was nearly entirely severed, hanging loosely from a thin tendon and the wolf was now chewing on his throat as the last remnants of his life drained out of him as rapidly as his blood was draining from his wounds. The man had been so confident in his ambush, and now here he was. Dead.
The encounter couldn't have lasted more than two minutes. Robb blinked with surprise, overcome by how much had changed in those brief moments.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Robb exclaimed, rather focusing on her well-being over his own shock. The lass was shaking, but she was still atop her horse unharmed just the same.
"Y-yes, yes, I'm alright," then her eyes focused on him, and she gasped. "Robb, you're hurt!"
Robb lifted his hand to the wound on the side of his neck and drew it back to find it bleeding heavily. He remembered it happening, yet he had been so drunk over battle that he had barely felt it in that moment. He could barely feel it even now. Hermione's wand was out again, and she moved her horse to the side of his. He felt her hands at his jaw, tilting it so she had a clearer access to the injury. She muttered some soft incantation, though he wasn't able to see what was happening.
"What did you just do?"
"I-I've stopped the bleeding, but the wound is still there," she explained. "If I knew the incantation, I'd be able to close the wound entirely, but I'm afraid you'll just have to be satisfied with not bleeding to death." It wasn't a very funny joke, but in the moment, the shock of the frightening encounter shook through both of them, and laughter rumbled through their bodies in reaction to their near-death experience. "Tha-that was terrifying."
"It was," Robb agreed. "I-I've never killed anyone before."
"Are you alright?"
He took his time to consider the question. "I think so."
They dismounted from their rides and Hermione directed him to sit on a boulder while she had a better look at his injury, spreading it with a salve and bandaging it thoroughly.
As she was doing that, his eyes fell on the bolt that would have killed him had it not been for the enchanted pin he wore. He frowned as a question came to mind about that.
"Why did your pin protect me from the bolt but not the blade when it cut me?"
"I had to prioritize how I wanted to disperse the charm when I was making them," she explained while she worked. "Your pins can protect you all from any fatal attacks, but they're not very effective against minor injuries."
"Why not?"
"Various reasons. Magic like that can eat up a lot of energy. Protecting you against every little hurt would have worn the spell out faster and may have put you in more danger if it attracted unwanted attention to the wrong people."
Robb hadn't considered that spells could "wear out" the way a pair of boots might have worn out over time. The concept was surprising to him, but he couldn't express a proper reaction to it other than a weak, "Oh."
Once she had finished dressing his wound, they turned towards what was left of their attackers. There were six in total with three of them dead and three unconscious, courtesy of Hermione. Grey Wind had stopped chewing on the man once he had stopped moving, though now his fur was caked with blood. They would need to wash him off before anyone saw him. Robb looked the other men over and saw that one was merely stunned while the other two had big swollen faces, which distorted their features and made them unrecognizable.
"A bee-sting hex," she explained when Robb looked at her. "Very affective."
He nodded. "We can't just leave them in the road like this."
"We're not far from the next town. There should be a guard or something that can take them to the nearest castle lord who will decide what to do with them."
"Aren't you worried that they'll tell everyone about... well, about you and what you did?" He eyed her wand, but she merely stepped up to one of the survivors and pointed it at his temple while she answered him with very little emotion.
"No. I'm not worried at all."
She said no more on the matter so Robb assumed then that she had some spell that would keep them from regaling to anyone about what she did, and so he decided to leave it at that.
They found that each of the men had had a horse tied up not far from where they had ambushed the pair and the two slung each body and unconscious prisoner onto a mount and led the herd all day to the next town over. It was dark by that time, but they still managed to find the town constable and explain their prisoners and what had happened on the road. Luckily, they had taken the time between traveling to get their story straight before arrival, omitting anything about Hermione's magic from their explanation of how two people and a direwolf pup had managed to overpower six armed and full-grown men all on their own.
By that time, their prisoners were awake and quite confused about how they had ended up captured by the two strangers they had intended to rob and molest by their own admission.
The constable commended them for their skill and offered a substantial reward, since there was a bounty for any robber apprehended on the road. So, six robbers plus their horses added up to a generous amount.
It was so late by that time, and they were too exhausted to search in the dark for a decent place to camp that they spent the night in the town inn. They had a room to themselves for free that night, courtesy of the innkeeper who had a cousin fall victim to that very band. They all fell asleep that night, lord, witch, and direwolf together, not bothered at all that it was in the same bed.