#pit boss warrick

[polkadotjohnson]

Pit Boss Warrick - Twin Peaks the Return (2017)

[cartoonmouse]

AGOKAF WIP - The Handmaidens

I was inspired by @badgershite posting his Godric story to share with you some WIPs I have rotting in my documents folder. This one was written last October. I never finished it because I wasn’t sure about the direction it was taking, but I enjoy the dialogue and the relationship between the characters. Writing the OC kids is a lot of fun and I tend to just make everything really silly. It’s definitely not on tone for ASOIAF but whatever. 

“Septa Sabine?”

“Yes, child, what is it?”

“Where do babies come from?”

The septa’s face turned a ghostly shade of white. Mira Forrester merely blinked, waiting for an answer. Her sister’s handmaidens tittered nervously. Eight pairs of inquisitive eyes trained themselves on the older woman while the youngest of the group - Mila - continued to gleefully stab at her embroidery.

“Well… that’s a rather inappropriate question, lady Mira, don’t you think?”

“Why would it be inappropriate?”

Septa Sabine sputtered like a kettle going off.  

“My mother tells me they’re grown in the garden,” Rosey Greyson explained, voice soft. “It’s how I got my name.”

“Really?” Mira asked. “How is that possible?”

Rosey shrugged.

“All I know is, one day my mother was huge.” Kyra Mason held her hands out, miming a bulging stomach. “And then the next day there was this small vile creature wailing loud enough for the whole quarry to hear.”

“My auntie says babies rot your insides,” Leyla Branch added.

“I only ask,” Mira said before anyone else could get a word in. “because Elyse is having another baby and when I asked her about it she said you knew more about the subject, Septa.”

Septa Sabine’s lips curled into a frown. “Of course she did.”

“What about you, Mila?” Mira asked the girl at her feet. “What does Lissa have to say about this?”

“I dunno.”

“Maybe you should ask her where you came from then.”

Septa Sabine clapped her hands together. “All right, that’s quite enough, lady Mira.”

The rest of the lesson was spent quietly. The septa hovered over each girl’s shoulder to check their precision and needlework. She was particularly hard on Mira, critiquing her jagged stitches and ordering her to start all over. Sewing and embroidery had never been the young Forrester’s strong suit - Aunt Talia said she took after her in that respect. She was much better at the musical part of the gentle arts, but they were not focusing on that today much to Mira’s absolute disdain.

Once lessons were over and Septa Sabine took her leave, the other girls began to chatter all at once.

“What was that about, Mira?” Leyla asked, sounding genuinely interested. “Were you trying to get a rise out of the septa again?”

“I thought her eyes were going to pop right out her head,” Kyra said.

“Aren’t you worried about getting in trouble?” Rosey asked, nervously wringing the fabric of her shawl.

“Mira, Mira! Look!” Mila showed off her embroidery hoop - the stitches far worse than Mira’s. They didn’t even form a coherent shape of any kind.

“Lovely,” Mira said, patting her niece on the head. “At this rate you’re sure to surpass me.”

She then turned to her companions and confessed, “What I said was partly true. I did ask Elyse about it, but her being pregnant has nothing to do with why I asked.”

“Then why?” The girls leaned forward, enthralled. Mira often had this effect on them. She was an excellent story teller.

“Ah, that’s right. You weren’t about when he arrived.”

“He?” Leyla’s blue eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “What do you mean, Mira? Stop teasing!”

“Hush up then,” Kyra scolded.

Mira lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Warrick Whitehill.”

“Come off it.” Kyra rolled her eyes. “You made us all excited for nothing.”

“Isn’t that Lady Elyse’s brother?” Rosey asked. “Why has he come to Ironrath?”

“Another mystery,” Mira said. “but that’s not the interesting part.”

Lissa made routine visits to Ironrath. Stillport wasn’t that far, only a day’s ride if you left early enough. She claimed the regularity was due to missing her family, but Mira didn’t believe her for a moment. A woman like Lissa would love to be living in her own keep. She’d be able to boss everyone around which she couldn’t do at Ironrath where it was Mother and Elyse’s job. Lissa didn’t even like Elyse.

Mira was suspicious of her sister’s motives, but at least because of her visits she was able to be in the company of her little niece and the handmaidens, who Mira had easily befriended.

“So what makes this visit so different?” Kyra asked.

“I told you,” Mira replied. “My uncle Warrick showed up yesterday.”

“Uncle?” Leyla’s face twisted as though she were thinking hard about something. “But if he’s lady Elyse’s brother then you wouldn’t have any relation to him, right?”

“That’s not part of the story,” Mira said. “Let me continue.”

“Aye, let her talk.” Kyra elbowed Leyla in the side.

“Ouch!” The blonde girl elbowed her back while Rosey looked on helplessly.

Mira, meanwhile, ignored her friends and kept on with the story.

It was announced at breakfast yesterday morning that Warrick Whitehill would be coming to Ironrath all the way from the Bastion. Mira had heard stories of the Bastion—that it was haunted by the souls of the dead Warricks who had occupied it years ago. Danny Moss told her that the Glenmores—her mother’s family—had dug a huge pit behind the castle and tossed all of them in, burying them alive. Mira acted unruffled by the story, but that night she had terrible nightmares about being crushed beneath piles of dirt and snuck into her brother’s bed for comfort.  

Right as Elyse shared this news, Lissa accidentally knocked over her goblet, spilling water all over the lap of her pretty dress.

“Why’s he coming here?” she asked, sharply.

“To check on me I suppose,” Elyse answered. She sighed wearily. “The men in my family have a history of worrying over pregnant women. It’s silly, really.”

No one had batted an eye about Warrick coming except Lissa who put up a huge fuss. Harrold later explained that Lissa and Warrick had always disliked one another so he wasn’t surprised by her behavior. In fact, it seemed as though Mira was the only one who suspected anything might be funny.

“What do you think?” she had asked Godric. His opinion was the one she trusted above all others.

He pondered her question for a long while. “I think… Lissa just doesn’t like him.”

It was a logical answer, but not one Mira found all that exciting.

As was customary, the family had greeted Lord Warrick when he arrived that evening. Ashlynn forced Lissa out of her room, and she stood among them, expression sour. She held Mila in her arms, the girl dozing off every few seconds, head tipping this way and back. It was only when the gates of Ironrath opened and Warrick’s stallion trotted into the front yard did the five year old perk up.

“Uncle!” The girl wiggled in her mother’s arm, desperate to get down.

“Mila, behave yourself…” Lissa said sternly.

Mira watched with a great deal of interest as her niece made a huge racket, arms outstretched and waving in Warrick’s direction. Of course the Whitehill noticed the commotion, but he only smiled easily in response. Mira remembered her father once saying how eerie it was to look at Warrick Whitehill—how similarly he resembled his father. He was a stocky, yet well-built man of twenty-eight with broad shoulders and the same golden hair as his twin. It hung a little past his ears now, longer than the last time Mira had seen him.

“How’s my girl doing?” Warrick asked, scooping Mila up in his arms.

“She’s not ‘your girl’,” Lissa snapped.

Her words sent a chill through the air the entire family felt. Warrick, however, didn’t seem to notice, so wrapped up in Mila—commenting on how grown up she looked in her dress and telling her of the presents he brought. This only served to infuriate Lissa even more.

“He’s very sweet with Mila, isn’t he?” Rosey commented.

“My sister despises him for it.”

“Is she jealous?” Leyla asked.

“Mila, who do you prefer? Your mother, or Lord Warrick?” Kyra prompted.

“Uncle brought me a hoop and a unicorn,” Mila told her, as if this were enough to answer the question.

“A what?”

“One made of sugar,” Mira supplied. “He’s always bringing her sweets. Lissa hates that too.”

Leyla frowned. “I still don’t understand why you’re so concerned with where babies come from, Mira. What does your sister and Lord Warrick have to do with it?”

Mira sighed. Sometimes her friends could be so dense. She knelt to the floor, covering Mila’s ears with her hands to block out what she said next.

“Don’t you think it odd—your lady’s behavior?” Mira then paused for dramatic effect. “I think she is so bothered because my uncle is the true father of her child.”

Rosey and Leyla both gasped in unison, the former almost falling backwards in her chair. Kyra guffawed.

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“Think about it.”  

“I think you’re mad.”

“Lady Elisabeth would never!” Leyla exclaimed. “She’s happily married. She would never.”

“You’re not her sister,” Mira said. “Lissa does whatever she pleases even if what she pleases makes absolutely no sense.”

Rosey began counting on her fingers. The other girls silently watched as she added and subtracted, muttering numbers to herself.

“Mila is five years old,” she reported. “That means, if Mira is correct in her assumptions, lady Elisabeth and lord Warrick planted her after lady Elisabeth was wed….”

“Not planted,” Mira groaned. “That’s not true, Rosey. Your mother was having a laugh.”  

“That’s not right!” Leyla said.

“It’s what she said,” Rosey countered.

“Not that.” Leyla waved her hand dismissively in the bigger girl’s direction. “I can’t believe that lady Elisabeth would ever seek out another man behind her husband’s back. It’s… not right. It’s a misunderstanding, Mira. It must be.”

“But wouldn’t it be funny if it were true?” Kyra said, a glint of mischief in her blue eyes. “Lady Elisabeth acts like the crown princess of Westeros, but deep down she’s only a flesh and blood woman.”

“And Lord Warrick is quite handsome…” Rosey admitted, blushing furiously.

“I don’t care how handsome he is!” Leyla was also blushing.

“My ears hurt,” Mila whined.

“Sorry.” Mira quickly pulled her hands away. “Here, Mila, I have a task for you. Could you go find uncle Goddy and bring him round?”

She expected Mila to argue against it, but the girl seemed more than happy to go fetch Godric for her. Good. Now they could discuss the matter further without fear of Mila overhearing and asking questions. She loved asking questions almost as much as Mira did.

“Why Godric?” Kyra asked.

  “Godric!” Leyla squeaked, a hand reflexively shooting to the blonde hair bunched at her nape. Almost obsessively, she began to adjust it, though there was nothing wrong with her hair from Mira’s perspective. “She’s fetching Godric?”

“She calls him Goddy,” Mira explains.

“Again, why?” Kyra spoke flatly.

“She cannot say ‘Godric’ properly.”

“Not that.” Kyra sighed. “Why are you dragging Godric in here?”

“I need everyone’s help to solve whatever’s going on.”

“You want to poke around in other people’s business, you mean?”

“Lissa is my sister. It’s my right to know what’s she been up to.”

“What if your father finds out?” Rosey asked, nibbling at her bottom lip.

“What if Lord Thornton finds out?” Kyra added, though the idea of such a thing appeared to excite her. 

“Then it’s Lissa’s problem. Not mine.” Mira huffed. “Don’t you want to know? Aren’t you a little bit curious?”

The girls exchanged uneasy looks. They were curious. It was written all over their faces, but it wasn’t easy to admit such a curiosity. Mira doubted speaking so crudely about the lady they served was the mark of a good handmaiden. And if someone outside of their group were to find out they might have to pay the price for it.

But it would not come to that. Mira was certain.

--

Mira had them all lined up in a row. Rosey, the tallest out of them all, stood on the far left while Mila was positioned at the end. She liked things this way: neat and organized. With her hands behind her back, Mira walked the length of the row like a captain addressing her vanguard.

“Well? Ol’ Goddy’s finally made it, so can you explain what this whole game’s about?” Kyra asked, arms crossed. If she was irritated with Mira she didn’t show it.

“Game?” Godric shifted uncomfortably. He was placed between Rosey and Leyla as the second tallest. “I didn’t know we were playing a game.”

“It’s a not a game,” Mira told him soothingly. “It’s actually very important.”

Kyra covered Mila’s ears. “Your fool sister thinks Lord Warrick is Mila’s father.”

Godric winced. “Oh… Mira…”

“Shh!” Mira pressed a finger to her lips.

“We’re not going to do anything bad, are we?” Rosey looked just as pained as Godric. “I don’t want to get in trouble, Mira. Lady Elisabeth would surely send me back home to Timberwatch.”

“We’d all be sent home,” Kyra said. “And I for one would rather die than have to be around my mad brother for an instant.”

“Shh!”

“Well?” Leyla was having a tough time not staring at the boy slouching beside her. She kept her blue eyes focused on Mira, but every so often they’d steal a glance and it did not escape the other’s notice. “What’s going on then?”

“We’re splitting up,” Mira explained. “That way we’ll be able to cover more ground, gather more information.”

“So it is a game.”

Mira ignored the Mason. “Rosey and Kyra, you’ll go speak with Elyse. She’s Warrick’s sister, so she’ll know about the situation better than anyone. Well… perhaps not as well as the perpetrators themselves, but you understand.”

“L-Lady Elyse?” Rosey blanched. “B-but…”

“They call her the White Viper, you know,” Kyra said. “The smallfolk say she’s able to cut out a man’s tongue before he even has time to bat an eye.”

               “I’ve never seen her do it,” Mira rebutted. She took Rosey’s hand and gave it a reassuring pat. “It’ll be fine. Elyse isn’t so scary. She just likes to play around.”

IT CUTS OFF SO SHORT SORRY,....

[polkadotjohnson]

What d'you think his name is? It starts with an R

For now I'm thinking Raoul...