Cloud, Fawn, and Blade
Author's notes: Sorry about the long hiatus, I wanted to make sure the wait was worth it. So, I've got two chapter this week! Yay!
Chapter 32
Cloud, Fawn, and Blade
The wolf felt a growl rumble from the depts of his lungs as he watched the scene with primal fury. From the shadows of the trees, he witnessed as the enemies conversed with each other before finally choosing to load both his man and woman onto horses, taking them promptly away. The woman struggled adamantly against the ones that held her, but the man hung limp, knocked cold by one in a spiked leather gambeson. The wolf remained hidden, much despite his desire to reveal himself and tear apart the attackers, limb from limb. He was at least mindful that their numbers were far superior when compared to a lone pup, and closing his jaws around an ankle would gain him nothing but a blade through his skull.
So, he wisely chose to remain in the shadows of the trees and followed the horses and the comforting scent of honey and lavender. Even if the beasts were quick when taking their masters out of sight, he never lost track of that fragrance. In time, it led him to an arch of ancient oaks, whose roots were woven and braided into the intricate and dedicated structure of a bridge that was big enough to support the men and their horses and long enough to reach across a ravine that hung over a raging waterfall.
On the other side, the wolf recognized the buildings of a keep that was embedded into the side of a stone cliff. The sight made him pause as a new scent was carried on the wind. More men, he realized. Many more. His ears perked as he detected creaking, which he recognized as the groan of wooden bows as someone drew them back. He could feel eyes on him and backed carefully away from the edge of the bridge. Men had likely spotted him. Men with bows armed with arrows. In the back of his mind, he knew he had to stay out of their range.
With impatient eyes he watched as the day turned into night and many, many more men and horses exited the cliff keep. He stayed cleverly hidden in the trees while they passed. Could he slip inside before the entrance was cut off again? His instincts said no. The realization caused a wine to escape him as desperation took hold. He could still smell the honey and lavender on the breeze. With all his might, he wanted nothing more than to find his woman and aid her already. His teeth were bared with the thought of biting into the ones that had hurt her. With no other option, he paced a space that kept him in sight of the keep while additionally safely out of range of the sentries' weapons.
Oh, what was he to do?
"Wake up. Wake up!"
Robb's body was shaken harshly and his eyes blinked painfully opened through a throbbing headache. To add to that discomfort, he was in desperate need of a drink of water. Had he been dreaming? A few seconds passed to allow his vision to clear enough where he looked up into the frantic expression of Hermione. She looked much worse for wear. Her face was bruised and dirty, her clothes were ripped and smeared with dirt but other than that, she didn't look terribly injured, much to his immediate relief.
"Hermione?" He moaned, sitting up with some effort. "What happened? Where are we?"
"You don't remember?"
Robb wracked his brain. He was still sorting out the visions of his strange dream, but he did remember the ambush. He remembered trying to fight off the rogues with Hermione at his side. He also remembered one of them having very good aim with a bow. His mind jogged when he caught sight of the makeshift bandage over Hermione's hand and his heart stopped at the sight of it. A vision of her being shot with an arrow which succeeded in disarming her wand filled his memory at once. He clearly remembered the terror he felt when the shaft had burst through her flesh and blood and stuck out of her palm like an abhorrent nail.
"Your hand!" Robb said, snatching it up carefully to examine for himself. The bandage matched the material of Hermione's dress, and sure enough, his eyes caught on a long rip along the hem of her skirt.
Hermione pulled it back. "It's alright. I got it taken care of while you were unconscious."
The words left him unconvinced, especially when it looked so slack and bloody. "That looks painful. How could you possibly think you're alright?"
"I'm well enough. We have bigger things to worry about right now."
She helped him to his feet, and he saw for the first time that they were in a small, hollowed stone cave which held all the virtues of a prison. At one end was a solid iron door with bars, and hung from the walls were terrible rusted sconces though only one was bequeathed a torch that meagerly alighted the dark room. Around them were chains that hung from hinges, used to restrain occupants more properly. For some reason, his arms ached in a way that gave him the impression that he had been priorly restrained by a pair of them.
"Is there any water by any chance?" Robb asked, feeling more parched with every passing second.
Hermione only shook her head. "None. I need some, too."
"They knocked me out," Robb realized, rubbing the place on his temple that he suspected they had struck him.
"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "After they shot my wand out of my hand, one of them tried killing you. Thankfully, the pin deflected the blow. Unfortunately, the burst of magic intrigued them, so they were content to capture us instead after they knocked you out."
Robb's heart was in his throat at the realization. Well, this certainly did not bode well for them. "Where's your wand now?"
"They took it. I didn't have time enough to cast any spells, but they suspected it was some kind of weapon or tool and brought it back with them just the same. I'm not sure who has it, but my guess is the Bad Apple is keeping it close."
"The Bad Apple is really here? You saw him?"
"Not really. He was busy with something when our captors arrived. I do know his name is Dez, now. Possibly short for Desmond, it sounds like."
"So, not the original Bad Apple then?"
"From what I heard, he could be alive, too. I heard them talking while I was chained up, saying something like the old man is getting worse. It sounds like their patriarch for this whole operation could be sick. There's something else, Robb."
"What?"
"The party that captured us was a scouting party," she informed dismally. "They know about the Tarly forces coming here and went out with the majority of their rogues to ambush them."
Robb thought over this information. "So, how many do you think are left in the keep?"
"I'm not sure, but if we're going to leave, it had better be now."
"That certainly sounds prudent," Robb decided. "Let's wear out our welcome and get the hell out of here."
"Couldn't agree more."
But then Robb frowned. "How did you get free if you don't have your wand?"
"I used a little wandless spell to unfasten my chains."
"You can use spells without your wand?" That was certainly news to him.
"To a very limited extent," she shrugged. "It's considerably more difficult and a lot less predictable, but the alohomora charm is typically simple enough to conjure if I focus carefully."
Robb surveyed her. "Do you at least have your bag?"
She both deflated and tensed at the mention, crossing her arms furiously. "They took that, too. They liked the pattern on it and assumed it could fetch a decent price or be a gift to their lady, whoever that is. Compliment Sansa on her fine skill the next time you see her."
If the situation hadn't been so dire, he may have laughed towards her pouty reaction. As it happened, though, that would do no one any good towards their situation, neither actively nor emotionally.
"Alright," he breathed trying his utmost best to find any benefit to their position. "Do they have any idea what's inside it?"
"No. Thankfully, they took one look inside and saw that it was empty. I'm forever grateful that they didn't have the sense to reach a hand in it."
"Yes, that's indeed a relief. So, it looks like we have a few things to do while we're here."
"Indeed," Hermione agreed, "namely reclaiming our belongings and liberating any additional prisoners here."
"Perhaps someone also witnessed our abduction and followed our captors back to their base?" Robb offered optimistically.
Hermione sighed to that possibility. "While I don't like them, it would at least put me at ease to know either Ser Gerold or Lord Randyll could have followed you after your... lecture."
Robb could have gotten angry for their senseless and disgusting words all over again, but he preferred to focus on the matter at hand, if at all possible. Though their help could have been categorized as necessary, he also despised accepting it if he didn't have to. And with that thought, a new plan formed in his head instead. Maybe he was being arrogant and a little foolish, but just then, he resolved to take this fort on his own with the help of his remarkable friend, the lady those men had spurned so harshly with their words and dismissal. He could almost picture their reactions when they arrived at the bridge, only to find that the lord and lady that they believed they were coming to rescue, had actually taken care of everything without a single aid from the army assembled for that very purpose.
He wondered if Hermione felt the same way.
"Hermione, while our predicament is quite... dire, if we happened to get out of this cell, you wouldn't have any objection to maybe taking this base ourselves, would you?" Robb asked carefully.
She smiled shrewdly. "I was actually just considering that possibility myself. If we can find our belongings, I think it's our best option after that, especially if there are other prisoners around here."
"Did you get a good view of the layout of this fortress?"
"Admittedly, not much. They took us through the courtyard then to the cells right away, but I saw their storerooms and armory. Be a shame if anything happened to their supplies."
Robb smiled with her just as a plan began to form in both their heads.
"If we happened to get out of here, and if I happened to get a sword, and if you happened to transform into your wolf, you wouldn't happen to be able to sniff out where they took your things by any chance?"
Her smile deepened. "Well, that's only if we happen to work quickly, quietly, and carefully."
"Sounds like we've got the makings of a plan then."
"Indeed."
Moments later, Hermione was pressing her hands against the iron door, focusing all her magic on the one spell she needed.
"Just breathe," her counterpart repeated.
"I am, Robb," she said a little aggressively. "This isn't easy without my wand."
"Just do your best. You got our chains unlocked well enough."
"Yes, but it would appear I'll need something a lot stronger than just an unlocking spell. It's reinforced quite a bit. Let me try something else. Stand back a bit." Robb obeyed and Hermione took another deep breath, focusing on the spell in her mind. "Bombarda!" She urged. The door gave a hesitant groan, indicating a reaction, but far too weak to do the pair any good. The wound on her hand was likely not helping, but Hermione didn't let the failure affect her as she refocused herself. The spell was right, she just hadn't executed it properly. She needed to add to it somehow. As an added measure she chose to combine it with a forceful gesture, as if pushing something heavy from herself very harshly. "Bombarda!"
To her everlasting surprise and relief, her spell bore an instant result, and the door was immediately blown open in a shower of rock and dust. The sound was piercing and there were answering calls of surprise as guards standing by became alert to the disturbance. A wave of dizziness nearly overwhelmed her as she staggered forward. Another reason wizards and witches didn't rely on wandless magic was that it exhausted a ton of energy. They were at least fortunate that this wasn't a wizard prison, otherwise they would have no hope of getting out of there, wand or no wand.
Gaining back her bearings, she transformed into her wolf and darted down the corridor with Robb following quickly behind. Upon sighting the first man swinging a sword, Hermione charged at him, baring her teeth and taking him by surprise. Her teeth sank into his shoulder and tore. It was a strange feeling for her. Ever since her first transformation as a direwolf, she felt she was less hesitant about hurting people, specifically rogues like the one she gripped in her teeth. She thought she would be more reluctant to the idea of biting into someone, enemy or not. But then her mind went to Huntsberry, and she remembered the bodies and the charred remains of that town. She also recalled her own treatment when being brought in. All their disgusting comments, how one of them had made perverted promises, and how they had treated poor Robb while he was unconscious. She thought about all of that and any reluctance she had before was washed away with the taste of his blood.
When she felt him go limp in her jaws, she turned about to face the next man who wanted to challenge her. A cry of alarm escaped someone, and she darted for the owner of it. She caught up a leg and tugged sharply, pulling him to the ground as he cried out in pain and terror. In the corner of her eye, she watched Robb wrestle the man's sword away then face the others. He made quick work of them and in less than ten seconds, they were leaving the bodies where they fell as they dove further down the corridor, passing other cells and iron doors. Some had occupants inside, mostly women and children who drew away at the sight of the massive wolf but leaned forward when they saw the man of whom they did not recognize as one of their captors.
"Who are you?"
"Let us out."
"Please, let us out."
Robb put a finger to his lips, issuing their silence. "My name is Robb Stark, and this is Matilda. We've both come to rescue you, but you have to be quiet. Are you all from Huntsberry?" Most nodded, though others proclaimed they were from various other towns and had been captured on the roads just to be brought here.
"I see. Are any of you hurt?"
Many of them nodded, much to the pair's dismay. Some of the women in particular looked very abused, leaving Hermione feeling much less guilty about the men she had mauled and the ones she was about to.
"There are more of us throughout the keep," a boy told him. "Some who they took away to serve them."
Hermione had an unpleasant feeling she knew what he meant by that.
"We'll try to get them out, too then. There's an army on the way right now to defeat these men, but best not to sit around waiting for them. Do any of you know how to get out of here?" Robb questioned further.
There were various nods and shaking of heads. While Robb took the opportunity to question them, Hermione spotted a ring of keys hanging from one of the guards' belts and tugged it free with her jaws. Nudging his arm, she offered it to Robb who quickly made use of them. Going down each and every cell, he opened the doors to find dozens of prisoners, all captives of the Bad Apple and his band of outlaws. While many seemed curious by the sight of the brown direwolf, many more were far from eager to get too close to her, likely contributed to the sight of blood that she could feel clinging to her chin and jaws. She tested a gesture of good faith by nudging a small boy who seemed a little more receptive towards her than the others.
"Don't worry, you've nothing to fear from her. She doesn't eat children," Robb consoled with a friendly smile when the boy seemed to debate on whether or not he wanted to attempt petting her.
The boy hesitated for a last brief second before eventually making the decision to reach his hand out and brush gently at her brown tresses. She gave him a grateful lick on his cheek and whatever fear the boy had been feeling immediately evaporated with the contact. The friendly exchange allowed the rest of the people to feel much more reassured after that.
With that out of the way, Robb took control over the situation. He grabbed up whatever weapons the guards had been carrying and passed them around to the women and a few boys. In total, Hermione counted about eight men that they had disbursed and twelve weapons that they had all been carrying, ranging from swords, axes, and daggers. One even had a crossbow.
"Take these. Best to have some weapons."
One of the women hesitated when Robb tried to hand one to her.
"I... I've never used a sword," she admitted timidly.
"That's alright. Still better to have it on you, just the same," he consoled gently. She swallowed, but his reassurance must have convinced her as she took it, holding it a little awkwardly due to its weight. "Most important thing you need to know, stick 'em with the pointy end."
Some of them nodded to the advice, new determination keeping them focused. When all the weapons had been disbursed, they followed the path that Hermione remembered them using to get to the dungeon. They stopped in the shadows when they were just outside the courtyard. It was relatively average sized for castle keeps. It was dark by then, but with Hermione's night vision, coupled with her sharp sense of smell, she could easily sense how many guards surrounded them and where they were. The portcullis was lowered, which meant another obstacle they would have to handle. The rampart walls that protected them were about twenty feet high and lined with thirteen archers in total, all of whom watched for any intruders that tried to approach the tree bridge that led into the cliff castle. She traded an expression with Robb and tilted her head towards a stack of crates that could provide cover from both the prisoners and the guards that flitted through the yard, silently telling him that they could speak more about their plan once they were concealed. With an understanding nod, Robb turned behind him and addressed their company in a hushed voice.
"Matilda and I are going to create a diversion. When the guards are distracted, quietly make your way to the bridge and get out of here."
They all nodded, issuing their understanding.
The wolf and man slipped out of the entrance and carefully dove for the crates. Once there, Hermione changed back, crouching low as they discussed their next plan of attack.
"So far so good," Robb breathed. "I think we can agree that our biggest objective is now getting the prisoners out of here before we go looking for you wand and bag. Though, it'll be a challenge to draw all those archers' attentions."
"Not necessarily. If I had my wand, I could set off some explosions, but I think we'll have to make do with setting some fires instead. Unless... do you think those might be full of alcohol?"
She pointed to six large barrels that were stacked against a wall in a tall pyramid on the far end of the courtyard. A tap was driven into one of them, indicating to the two that there was at least some type of liquid inside. Judging by the rogues who owned them, it was a liquid that was possibly flammable, maybe alcohol like Hermione initially suspected, or oil for their torches and lamps. Either way, the barrels were about to play a key role in their diversion.
"I'll check it," Robb decided. "I found some flint on one of those guards, so lighting it will be easy enough. I'll send you a signal if it's what we need, then light the fires to the storerooms. If that doesn't work, I'll draw their attention myself. See if I might find a bow and arrows in their armory."
Hermione nodded. Though she feared for his safety, it was the best plan they had. "If you're doing that, then I'll make my way across the ramparts and disperse any who aren't drawn away. I'll also make sure to get that portcullis up for the women and children. Afterwards, we'll sweep the castle."
But Robb hesitated with that. "If we can't find your wand or bag, Hermione, or if things get to be too dangerous, we have to be ready to leave them behind." The instruction left her frozen to the spot, but Robb merely continued. "I know it's valuable to you, but it isn't more valuable than your life. You'll still be a witch even without it."
A fearful sweat broke out over her, along with a deep sense of vulnerability at the thought of being permanently separated from her beloved wand. She dearly, dearly needed that back. Reckless or not, she was fully prepared to raid the fort in search of the priceless tool, despite Robb's well-meaning command against it. No matter what he said, that wand was leaving here in her hands. Of course, she pretended to agree with him, since he was far more likely to argue with her and waste their time if she didn't.
When they knew what they were doing, Robb stealthily crossed the yard to the barrels. Hermione watched while he inspected the contents and gave her a thumb-up, indicating it was exactly what they needed. Hermione waited as he filled a few clay bottles that he got from a shelf and tore a banner from the wall, cutting it into strips and stuffing them into the rims. She wasn't quite sure what that was about and didn't get the time to figure it out.
"What are you doing?!"
Hermione's head whipped around at the sound of the furious shout and several terrified screams at her back. Her heart dropped in her stomach to find that guards had recaught the prisoners. Panicked, Hermione transformed back into her wolf and rushed at the three men who had meant to enter the dungeons, only to be met with the hidden band of women and children. Her protective growl of fury and her massive form had the men turning with confusion. Her jaws opened wide, and yells of surprise ripped through the air as her teeth came down on one of their arms. She tugged, him away from the prisoners and rented more yells of surprise, terror, and pain as she dodged this way and that, trying to keep him always between her and the aim of the archers, whose attentions were fully on the impossibly enormous wolf who had infiltrated their base.
"Get it off! Get it off!" The man cried to his comrades.
They had their own troubles though, as she got a quick glance at the two other men that had stumbled on the prisoners and found that they had each been speared through with a different blade the very moment their backs had turned.
At that moment, an explosion drowned out all other sounds. With her enhanced hearing and vision, and with the proximity she had been to the blast, Hermione's ears were ringing and her eyes danced with stars that just about left her blind. Thankfully, she still had her smell, and it smelled like the barrels had been filled with oil, since she caught the distinctive scent of it on the air as it burned a trail up the exposed wooden beams of the keep.
After that, it didn't take long at all for whatever rogues remained within, to be drawn to the distraction outside.
Hermione knew she only had seconds. She had to get the archers out of the way, but that was easier said than done as they were concentrating most of their attack on her. It was all she could do to toss the man in her jaws away and back hastily behind the same wall of crates to avoid their barrage of arrows. To her added dismay, they were also aiming at the prisoners, though thankfully the women and children had dived back into the dark of the dungeon's entrance and were staying well out of the line of fire. It was now up to Rob to draw them away somehow.
He must have found his opening since Hermione sensed the arrows lessen suddenly and through the ringing of her ears, she heard a shout erupt from the other side of the ramparts. She peeked and saw that Robb had found a bow from their armory and was firing away arrows at the archers. One of them was struck and tipped through a crenellation, where he fell to his death down the cliff's face. Hermione took her chance and rushed to the stairs that led up towards them. She snarled at the nearest one and quickly dispatched him with her jaws. Another was pushed off the side, when she ran into him, and the rest lost their nerves at the sight of the monstrous wolf and fled.
The lack of arrows gave two of the women and a boy the opportunity to follow the wolf up. That meant Hermione wasn't able to change back in order to turn the wheel for the portcullis. Thankfully though, the three seemed to realize a giant wolf would have some trouble with it and took that responsibility up themselves. With great effort, they pushed hard and little by little, the oak and iron gate began to rise. The others saw and took their chance. They rushed for their escape, slipped under the gap provided, and sprinted across the root bridge where Hermione watched them safely disappear into the forest. And not a moment too late as nine more rogues charged into the courtyard. The boy and women saw them and immediately dropped the gate, closing the villains off from pursuing the others. Across the yard, one of them spotted Robb and swung a blade that cut his bow in two pieces. He nimbly backed up to avoid a second swing and drew his sword. Metal clashed against metal and drew a second man to the fight. Hermione felt a burst of protectiveness come over her as she rushed down the opposite flight of stairs and charged at the closest of the attackers. She killed that one and Robb killed the other, then they faced the rest. The sight of the wolf and young man must have been quite terrifying for them, especially with the fire burning at their backs and the dark blood dripping from her teeth and his steel. The rogues looked the picture of uncertainty and terror as they exchanged fearful expressions between each other, silently wondering if it would have been worth fighting the wolf and warrior.
One of them was foolish enough to think so. He rushed forward only for Robb to easily take care of him. His tenacity inspired two more, who were swiftly handled by both Hermione and Robb. Their reluctance allowed for three more to be run through in the backs by the women and boy who had stayed behind to assist their rescuers. After that, only three more rogues remained. It must have dawned on them that they were outmatched because they dropped their weapons and surrendered. The look that their prisoners carried, however, told them that wasn't an option. Their crimes must have been vile because the three descended on the villains with no mercy.
After that, the courtyard was silent, save for the cracking of the flames, their hammering hearts, and their heaving chests.
Hermione took in gasp after gasp of air, exhausting all her efforts to try and calm down. Her senses were overwhelmed by the battle and the taste of blood. Offhandedly, she thought about finding some water to rinse her mouth out and quench her growing thirst. In the back of her mind, she suspected the fight couldn't have lasted longer than five minutes, but somehow, she felt like it had stretched for hours.
Robb was the first to collect himself.
"Alright. Everything seems quiet," he decided, taking in the stillness of the castle. "I think we dispatched whatever guards were left here. You three regroup with your people. Hermi--I mean, Matilda and I will search for the other prisoners."
The three of them paused, as if to consider these orders. Did they want to leave safely or stay to help? One of the women looked back at him with fierce determination.
"My sister is still somewhere inside. I'm staying to find her."
Her courage must have inspired the other two because they didn't move either.
"I want to help, too," the boy said. "They killed my da and my older brother. I want to make them pay."
The other girl nodded with an identical fierceness.
Robb frowned and exchanged a look with Hermione. With the light of the fires, the two of them were able to take in the sight of these three. The first woman to have spoken was approximately twenty years of age, she had straight dark hair, brown eyes, and tan skin, features that suggested she may have had Dornish origins. It was said that Dornish women had a fierceness to them that wasn't common among their northern neighbors, which may have contributed to her ability to keep her head as they were facing their kidnappers. The boy was maybe eleven or twelve, with curly brown hair, a splash of freckles, and large dark eyes. He was slight of build and nimble, handling the long dagger he clutched with a certainty that said he had experience with the weapon. He had a pretty face and ears that stuck out from his whisps of hair that reminded Hermione of a fawn. Perhaps his looks had contributed to why he had been spared by the rogues. The third in their team was possibly the most striking woman Hermione had ever seen. She was a woman with smooth brown skin and a cloud of white hair that stuck out in thick coils. A pair of deep blue eyes were added to her memorable features and Hermione guessed her age could have been anywhere between late teens to early twenties, and didn't speak a word. The witch doubted she had been collected from the town of Huntsberry, which suggested she was likely traveling with a band when she had been captured.
Robb chose not to argue with any of them, as he had not the time nor position to refuse whatever help they could find.
"Alright. Do you know if there's any other way out of here? Maybe an escape tunnel?" The woman with the white hair nodded and Hermione suddenly wished Robb had the sense to ask for their names. As she couldn't ask herself, she decided to just dub the woman Cloud, the boy she named Fawn, and the Dornish woman she called Blade.
Robb spoke to Fawn and Cloud. "You two, watch the walls. If the Tarly forces haven't defeated them, then whatever remains of the Bad Apple's men will be back soon. Keep the portcullis down. With any luck, it'll delay them while you escape."
"We could try burning the bridge," Fawn suggested with eagerness.
"In the event that the Tarly forces succeed, I'd like them to be able to take the castle with minimal effort," Robb justified. "And if the Bad Apple returns, then your only concern is to get out of here. Don't fight them, you won't win."
Cloud and Fawn exchanged a look, but in the end, they nodded to Robb's instructions.
He turned to Blade. "You'll come with us through the castle and find your sister and any other prisoners. Once we've found them, bring them back here and escape with the others through the tunnel. Matilda and I will handle any more rogues."
Once everyone had their tasks, they dispersed. Blade led the man and wolf through the corridors, passing the remaining captors and prisoners alike. In time, Hermione grew impatient with it all. Though she understood these people took priority, she also needed to find her things already. When it seemed that they had found the remaining prisoners, collected nicely in the kitchens, Hermione gave Robb a probing look. In it, she hoped he understood her eagerness to begin her search through the fortress.
Robb sighed and turned to the woman who had helped them. She was currently crying as she embraced a girl of thirteen whom she shared a close resemblance to, so it was reasonable to assume this was her sister then.
"Is this everyone?" Robb asked her. She nodded. "Good. Leave with the rest."
Having found what she was looking for, Blade was all too eager to obey, taking the little girl by the hand and leading the rest back through the door they had come through. Now alone, Hermione faced Robb as she transformed back into a woman. Before resuming their pursuit any further, she spotted a bucket of water and drank gluttonously, taking the opportunity to rinse away the blood that soaked down her front and cleanse her injured hand, which had begun to bleed through her makeshift bandage. Robb eagerly joined her. Escaping a dungeon, fighting enemies, and taking a castle was a thirsty business.
"I'm going to check the lord's chambers," she decreed, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Robb nodded, sipping down a third cup before following her. Without a guide, it took them some time to find where their leader slept. They opened door after door, thankfully meeting no one else, before eventually, their efforts bore fruit as they entered a chamber that was grander than the others. Hermione's eyes lit up as she caught sight of a familiar beaded pattern laying on a desk by a slender rod of vine wood. She rushed for the two treasures, hardly giving any mind to her own surroundings. If it hadn't been for Robb's sudden cry of warning, she wouldn't have reached them at all.
A flash of glimmering metal shot in the corner of her eye, and if she had been a second too late in ducking, the blade would have stuck itself into her head and likely killed her then and there. It didn't diminish the sensation of sharp pain that grazed across her forehead and took a lock of her hair just the same. Blood dripped in her eyes as she staggered and fell to her knees. Another cry behind her let her know that Robb had engaged whoever had been in wait for the two of them. The clash of their swords rang through the room and had Hermione's nerves ringing with desperation.
Her wand! She had to get her wand!
She wiped at her forehead, trying to see through the red and find the edge of the desk. Her hands slapped over the wood, knocking over contents before she finally caught up something familiar. Gritting her teeth, she turned and pointed it towards the scuffle. A man's body slammed into her, knocking the breath from her with his weight. She blinked and realized she was looking at Robb's back. He had been thrown into her by their assailant. A second passed and suddenly she was gasping for air as Robb fell over her. She could see very little from her position but from her understanding, the attacker was crowding Robb over the desk with her pinned beneath both of them. They all struggled furiously. Their attacker had some kind of blade he was adamant about driving into Robb's chest, Robb was focused on keeping the hand that gripped it far away from his body, and Hermione was sandwiched between the table and her companion with the hand that held her wand pinned tightly against his back and her chest.
"Get off me," she wheezed out.
"Working on it," Robb answered through gritted teeth while trying with all his might to keep the knife from reaching his heart.
"Can't breathe," Hermione struggled out.
"I know. Sorry."
Just then, Robb seemed to realize something. She felt his body go suddenly slack, then a blast of violet magic had whoever had assaulted them stumbling away. Hermione felt immediate relief as Robb's weight also disappeared and her lungs filled instantly with air. In that time, Robb took the opportunity to run forward and drive his sword into the enemy's eye. The man's body twitched, then froze, then went entirely slack. At last, he slid sickeningly from the blade and crumpled in a pile on the stone floor. Hermione and Robb stayed where they were, gasping and trembling from the ordeal. When they moved again, it was to simultaneously fall to their knees.
"Is... is it over?" She looked up and met his eyes. They were both listening, waiting for more sounds of intruders or further attackers, but none came. It was silent.
A wave of shock coursed through her, and suddenly she was laughing, yet at that same time, her eyes flooded with tears. Her shoulders shook with both sobs and laughter, and even as she kept a death grip over her wand, she wiped frantically at both her eyes and her forehead, which was still bleeding profusely. To her surprise she couldn't even feel the pain of it. In fact, she couldn't feel any pain at all, not in her hand nor her back, which she was sure sported an abundance of bruises from being slammed into the table.
She felt Robb's hands on her shoulders just then. "Are... are you alright?"
"I'm... I'm not sure," she decided. Robb folded her up in an embrace and they stayed like that for several long seconds, struggling on calming their frantic hearts. At last, they parted. Hermione wiped away the remainder of her tears and managed to get shakily to her feet.
"Look at me," she said awkwardly. "I'm a mess."
Robb's eyes drilled into her. "You're perfect."
They stood there as the minutes stretched by and Hermione felt a sensation similar to the one that she felt when they had kissed in the forest. Even now, she felt her eyes drifting closed as Robb leaned towards her.
"Hello?"
A frightened feminine voice called from the other side of a wide archway that had been where the man had been sitting in wait for them. Robb and Hermione parted, though she frowned as an uncharacteristic frustration filled her with this second interruption that had served to part them. Her more logical side told her she should have been happy for it, but some wilder part of her had her growling and wanting to grab Robb by his shirt and pin him over the desk again.
Her cheeks ignited with that intrusive thought, and she had to shake her head roughly to expel it from her mind. Where in the world had that come from? They just escaped death, and now her only concern was to jump on him? It left her realizing that they needed to resume their traveling as soon as they were done here. And speaking of traveling...
Her eyes scanned over the desk she had previously been pinned beneath and found her distinctive beaded bag. The silver-grey material was still intact, and the beaded pattern of lavender and bees was just as she remembered. She checked the contents and was pleased to find there didn't appear to be any disturbance. Once those confirmations had been relieved, she followed Robb into the other room and was greeted with a disturbing sight.
In the center of the room was a large four-poster bed and in the middle of it was an old man who looked up at the canopy with blank and cloudy eyes. It didn't take a maester to tell he was probably dead. In his open hand was a pewter goblet with the remnants of a red liquid. From the look of things, he had been bedridden for quite some time, but perhaps with the capturing of his keep while his main forces were away, he had chosen to take his own life with a poison he had on hand, rather than risk the consequences of being captured alive in his current condition.
It was a reasonable assumption.
When their eyes scanned more of the room, they found a sight they had not been prepared for. Huddled in the far corner was a woman, chained, naked and sporting bruises along her face and arms. She was trembling and tears were tracking down her face as she looked at these two strange people through a curtain of cider-colored hair.
Hermione barely took time to think as she ripped off one of the blankets from the bed and rushed forward to cover the poor thing with it. She still had her chains, though.
"The key's in his pockets," the woman choked out, pointing towards where the man had attacked them from. Robb left to retrieve it while Hermione worked to calm her down.
"What's your name?" Hermione asked gently.
"Irie," she answered through sobs.
"It's alright now, Irie. You're safe."
"Who are you two?"
"My name is Hermione Granger, and this is Robb Stark. We're here to rescue you and the other prisoners."
"Th-the other men," she began, struggling to get her trembling under control. "They left to ambush someone."
"Yes. They'll have met an escort led by Randyll Tarly," Hermione informed.
"And it looks like the escort was triumphant," Robb announced from the other room. Something had drawn him to the window while he was busy retrieving the key to Irie's chains. He found his way back to them and busied himself with unfastening her cuffs. "They just arrived. I can see the top of Gerold Dayne's head from here. We'd better go down and greet them all."
The woman's face contorted to the news, as if overwhelmed by the knowledge that she was really and truly rescued. With that sudden realization, her body bowed forward, and she buried her face in Hermione's shoulder. The witch rubbed her back comfortingly through the blanket.
"It's alright now. It's over."
It was a long time before the woman was able to stop crying, though.