Westeros Skies
On the way to the Westerlands
“Good." A rumbling laugh passed from the man.
“A good sign to have some fight in you." He took the offered skin and pulled the cork away with his teeth. Baekyn took a long whiff of the firewine and wrinkled his nose in response.
“That's good stuff, might need a nip of that myself," he glanced back down at the woman laid out,
“after you've had yours." The lad’s leg would need some attention but he'd worry about that after.
The knight cradled his arm beneath the woman’s neck and brought the firewine to her lips.
“Just a little now." He didn't let it press long to her lips, enough just to warm and dull her. He splashed some out to a balled up scrap of his tunic and rested that carefully next to him.
“Alright, here we go." Ser Hogg pushed her hands away with one movement and tugged away the already sliced fabric. He could not tell how deep it was but that she was alive and talking had him hopeful. With a dry piece of his tunic he wiped away as much blood as he could, there was less seeping from it now, another good sign and he sighed with some relief. Above any screams or cries he talked to himself, loudly enough that his audience and patient could hear.
“A clean cut, that's good." And with it cleaned up even as little as he had managed he was able to see that while deep, it had been a glancing blow only, deep enough to weep an ugly amount but not enough and her innards were intact.
“And I think you'll even be keeping your guts inside." He flashed a knowing smile for what was to come.
“Ready yourself." he grabbed the firewine soaked cloth but gave her no time to respond. He pressed it against her left side, against all edges and length of the wound. He held it, pressed it to her firmly, no matter if she thrashed or wailed. Baekyn looked for the longer strips he had prepared and laid them across her. As her body calmed from the shock and pain, he shifted her, to weave them over the wound and under her body, to tie them off and hold the makeshift wound pack in place.
The knight stood slowly, admiring his work before his attention shifted back to Castor.
“You'll need something to help you walk. Keep an eye on her for now." Baekyn tipped the wineskin to his lips and took a gulp for himself at last. He hissed in response at the heat down his throat.
“Good indeed." He hummed his continued approval as he stood. His hands were red with blood but he paid that no mind as he walked back to where he had first stopped and knelt at the dragon’s arrival. A small bough from a tree had been his walking stick across his lands, he retrieved it from where he dropped it.
“This should do well enough for you." He indicated to Castor.
“I can get a better look at that and see if it's broken or not once we're comfortable by a fire." He closed the gap again and offered it to the man.
“Lean on me if you wish as well, but it'll be best for me to carry your sister. Need to keep that gash as still as possible." Taking a sip of the firewine Pheynix hissed at the potency. She knew what the rest was for and she could not say that she liked it. Watching Baekyn with intensity as he readied the once shirt now bandages. Sucking in a breath as he pulled the cloth away she hissed out.
Tensing and fighting the tightening of her muscles Pheynix breathed out a shaky breath as he confirmed what she already knew.
“Guts inside. Good good." The pain that came with the action of putting the firewine soaked cloth was swift and Pheynix's eyes went wide as she swore that the dragon had charred her to a crisp. Her jaw locked in stubbornness to not actually scream. Whole body as taut as a bow string silent tears running down into her hair at her temples; her shallow gasps and a whisper of a whimper the only thing heard from her.
She composed herself as he assisted Castor.
“Shall I suppose you have a sister or a nurse perhaps that is about your size so I can keep my maidenly virtue intact when I bathe? Not all this blood is mine." Pheynix snarked because if not she was going to moan, scream or swear. None of which were acceptable in her book. Tears were fine. Noise? No. Never.
Hissing out of her teeth Pheynix continued her snarking and looked at Baekyn out the side of her eye as he picked her up.
“You look the type to be able to get a woman with child merely by looking at her unclothed. I was pushing my luck letting you treat me. Hoping you did not see too much flesh." Melyssanthi’s face blushed at the topic.
“Nix! Seriously!?" She sputtered and turned to Fyresong.
“Go on, go hunt. No cattle, or sheep, or horses." She dismissed the dragon for the time being. The dragon in question burbled in such a way that it sounded like he was complaining. But he was a good boy and went off to hunt. Spreading his wings carefully he took off as gently as he could.
She turned to Castor with an expression of embarrassed horror.
“Better that you lean on me if you need it. Your sister is starting to worry me." As the Knight worked, Castor just watched and put to memory the various movements and techniques. He almost felt like he was back at home being taught some sort of life skill in preparation for their trek to Westeros and if he had been present at the medical portion of things he might have already known how to do all of this and actually be useful in the situation instead of just stating like a dumb lump of armor.
But as it was, a dumb lump of armor he was. It wasn't until he heard Nix shifting and almost could feel her pain that he snapped out of it and regardless of the pain in his ankle dropped to the ground and grabbed his sister's hand, squeezing it tightly as she attempted to hold back any sound. After the worst was over Castor wiped her tears and placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded to Baekyn as he left for a moment.
He wondered briefly what his parents would think seeing the two of them and of what decisions they had made. Without really thinking about it they had thrust their family into a side in the upcoming conflict, unless they could find a way to remain neutral and say that killing the guards and Kingsguard was self-defense, which was technically true. Blah, politics wasn't his thing. For the time being that didn't matter…
When Baekyn came back with a walking stick, Castor nodded and struggled to his feet, refusing help. As he stood straight he accepted the stick and looked straight ahead towards where they would be traveling.
“I'll be fine. Let's just get there and get my sister to a relaxed location. Thank you, Ser, for your assistance and offer of lodging." “Worry not, my lady." He had chuckled at the allegation.
“I only have a brother, but my mother and her mother will help with your bathing needs and keep your virtue intact." With the dragon having taken to flight again, a sight Ser Hogg did not hide that he stopped to watch intently, and Castor situated with his walking stick, Baekyn knelt over the Volantene woman once more.
“I promise to not look too closely at your flesh while we walk, your body is in no shape to fall pregnant." He joked as his arms slid under her, one beneath her neck and the other under the bend of knees. Baekyn lifted her as if she were no more than a baby. He shifted her as he straightened, brought her head against his shoulder and her legs pinned in the crux of his arm. He took slow and steady steps until he was sure that she would not be jostled too much.
He gave her a wink and turned his whole body with her to the princess and Castor Rahl. Princess Melyssanthi seemed scandalized by what her companion had said, but perhaps as a princess that was to be expected. He’d certainly never met one before.
“Even with your injuries, I’ll have you safely behind our walls before morning is done." He set off, leading the way across the even green lands. Occasionally, he pointed out some barely noticeable landmark or sight of importance to his family or to that of their liege, House Hayford. When it seemed that Pheynix’s eyes closed too hard for too long, he belted out a scandalous tavern song.
So listen, you scoundrels, with pockets of lust,
Her petal's not open to coin or your thrust.
Be gentle, be kind, be a fiddle so sweet,
And maybe, just maybe, you'll earn a whispered treat.
His voice was round and deep as he sang through verses, each more bawdy than the last, and finished with great flourish when they at last drew close enough to Sow’s Horn that their party was noticed by an aged woman yelling at a small flock of chickens.
“Grandmother!" He bellowed across the remaining distance.
The woman’s eyes squinted at the group. Baekyn had not been wrong about how long the journey would take, the morning had not yet been overtaken by noontime.
“You have brought more back with you? Isn’t our table full enough of your..." The diminutive woman stopped in her tirade as they stopped before her.
“Princess Melyssanthi and her companions will need to rest for a little bit, grandmother. This is Pheynix Rahl," he lightly shifted the woman in his arms,
“and her brother, Castor, from Volantis." He spoke with the same ease as if he was only announcing their liege-lord’s arrival.
Grandmother sucked at her gums and attempted a curtsy, as much as her old bones would allow.
“Like Queen Rhaenys returned, I swear it. I saw her once, I did." Smiling at Grandmother Hogg, said grandaughter of Queen Rhaenys, Melyssanthi nodded to the lady.
“Thank you Grand Lady Hogg. I would love to hear about Grandmother back when you met her. I did not get the chance to meet her. Grandfather did talk about how I reminded him of her. He said I was impish like her." She stepped toward the lady and gently clasped her hands.
“But I believe if you have a fine seamstress my cousin has need of her, or him if you have a surgeon possibly? A maester?" Noting the fact that no one was meeting her eyes, Melyssanthi nodded.
“Ah. Well seamstress it is. I have read a bit about what the maester’s learn about in Citadel so we will manage with the help of Ser Baekyn of course since he so brilliantly started the process of healing my cousin, Pheynix." Unable to fall asleep like her body wanted to Pheynix listened to the bawdy song that Ser Baekyn had sung.
“Had I enough blood to blush I believe I would at that tune Ser." As Melyssanthi took charge and showed what a Princess of Blood and Fire who was beloved of the small folk could do. It made Pheynix think about what this Princess was going to have to do. She could not bear to have this girl fall to her Uncle as the Maester on Dragonstone had fallen to Maegor.
Maegor who was a friend of Vhandyr. Vhandyr her Prince. She had made the decision to read the fire in Melyssanthi correctly and not ignore it. Maegor was in the wrong. Perhaps he was being influenced by his mother or those other women. Pheynix was not a fan of Aly’s grasping ways and Tyanna was cut from the same cloth just worse. She imagined this was what happened to girls whose father’s did not say no, ever.
“The smaller the stitch the better, Great Lady." Pheynix responded after Melyssanthi chimed in.
While his grandmother attended to the Princess and guided her inside their keep, Ser Baekyn could do little but shake his head. That woman would talk and spin tales all day, if he let her. And he would, even if she had the habit of embellishing from time to time. Ser Baekyn followed after them, with instructions that his grandmother did not acknowledge but did all the same - in taking them all into their open hall.
Sow’s Horn was no grand keep or castle. But it was sturdy, and the hall was warm if sparse. The straw across the cold stone was fresh, at least, and fires crackled invitingly. The knight wasted no time in laying Pheynix down on a wooden table.
“Stay there." He offered with a wink, as if she had any other real choice. He pointed at a well worn bench,
“Castor? That seat will do for you, until I can have a look at your leg." It was near enough to his sister, and to the warmth of the fire.
A young boy poked his head in.
“Ah! You!" Baekyn bellowed. The lad stopped short at being seen.
“Tell Robb to ride, hard, for Hayford, and bring their Maester back with him. We have guests in need." Just as the boy was backing out of the room, the knight stopped him again with a whistle.
“And have your sister bring us some clean linens and honey." With instructions given, Baekyn realized his guests from the night prior were still here. Good. Two women, both from a nearby village, stood at the opposite corner of the room, their eyes full of questions, their mouths agape. Another figure entered, a woman older than the two slack-jawed women but younger than the grand lady who was busy jabbering away at the Princess about Queen Rhaenys. Baekyn’s mother stopped near the two younger women and tapped them roughly, as if to shoo them not just from the room but from the keep itself. The knight rolled his eyes.
“Mother, let them stay and help." Baekyn chided jovially.
“They have more nimble fingers than any of us would. And surely they'd like to help their princess’s friend." The women looked at each other and blushed but eagerly agreed.
Lady Hogg seemed caught off guard but quickly regained her composure.
“Your brother left after you this morning for King’s Landing." She looked at Melyssanthi as her voice fell quiet. Grandmother was patting and squeezing the girl’s hands. Seven help her, what trouble had her son brought home now.
“There has been…troubling…news but he's a fool if he's off to get himself in another war." She glanced at the princess and bit her tongue.
Baekyn scoffed as he made his way back to Pheynix.
“Jon and I fought for King Aenys against some rabble. Lucky for you, lady, you will not have to suffer my fat fingered stitches as he did." He motioned for the women to approach.
“Tiny stitches, like she said, honey and any herbs you think good, and then clean linens atop it. After that, you'll help her bathe. I'll carry her to Jon’s room but you two can take it from there. For her modesty." He winked again even as he gripped each woman at his side on their hips.
“Thank you, ladies." He gave each a kiss on the cheek before returning to Castor to check his leg.
In the light of the fire, he knelt and propped the man’s leg on his own. Tenderly, he ran his fingers down to the ankle and pressed and prodded. He hmm’d about, feeling for any sign of bone out of place.
“Sorry about this." He grabbed the man’s booted foot and bent it to the left, to the right, up and down. No matter the pain that surely inflicted, Baekyn let out a contented
hmmph.
“Not broken I wager, but it will be sore. You'll need to keep weight off it, and a soak after your sister is done will do you well." 
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