7 Desperate Measures
Discord: https://discord.gg/T2tzaD9S
-----------
MC POV
North, Winterfell, 289 AC
A month has passed since Lord Stark and his men departed for war. The castle had remained relatively peaceful until, unexpectedly, Jon Snow fell gravely ill with the pox—a merciless disease that has felled even the strongest men, with no known cure.
I had thought my emotions would remain as detached as they were when Ned left, but seeing Jon in such agony tore through my indifference. It was gut-wrenching. The stifling heat of his sickroom overwhelmed me, and I needed air, wandering the castle grounds lost in thought until I found myself at Maester Luwin's door.
Inside, the Maester was preparing something at his desk. "Will that cure him?" I asked, hope against odds kindling within me.
Luwin looked up, his expression laden with gravity. "No, boy. There's little we can do but ease his pain. This is a battle Jon must face alone."
His words struck a nerve. "You mean to tell me you've dedicated your life to study and yet you can't cure one of the oldest diseases known to this continent?" My voice was rising, laced with incredulity and anger.
The Maester stood abruptly, affronted. "Finding a cure is not as simple as you make it sound. If you think you can do better, by all means, show us."
"I just might," I snapped back, storming out, frustration boiling over.
Back in my room, I dressed quickly, determined to find any herbs or remedies that might offer Jon even the slightest relief. As I was about to leave, three of Lady Stark's servants barged in. "Lady Stark summons you," one declared.
Frustrated by the interruption, I snapped, "Tell her I'm busy—I'll return before dark." But before I could move, a guard grabbed me, slamming me to the ground. His knee pressed into my back, and as he rained down blows, he hissed a lesson about respect and place.
The next thing I knew, I was lying dazed in front of the Great Hall, the cold splash of water jolting me awake. The guard who'd beaten me sneered down, "Behave, or there'll be more where that came from."
Ignoring the throbbing pain, I limped into the hall where Robb sat in his father's chair, flanked by his mother and the Maester. "You summoned me?" I managed, meeting Catelyn's gaze.
She smiled thinly. "I see you're more compliant today. Is there anything you need?"
"Permission to leave the castle," I said. "I want to find something to help Jon."
Her smile widened, patronizing. "Ned left you in my care, and I cannot permit you to endanger yourself. Here, Ken— take this silver and find help locally. We wouldn't want him to worry."
My rage boiled over. 'Does she truly think I am unaware that the coin will be squandered at the brothel? To reward the brute who assaulted me right before my eyes!'
Despite the pain and the fury boiling inside me, I pleaded with Robb. "You're the acting lord. Let me help my brother."
Robb hesitated, his young face clouded with indecision as he glanced between his mother and the Maester. Luwin intervened, "It's unlikely he'll find anything of use, my lord, but if he must, ensure he's well-guarded."
"Fine," Robb finally said, "you can leave at first light tomorrow, with additional guards for safety."
Frustrated but left with no choice, I nodded and retreated, planning to revisit the medical texts for any overlooked remedy.
The next morning, under the watchful eyes of Rodrick and the guards—including Ken, still smirking—I prepared to leave. Rodrick's last instructions were clear, "Stay on guard, and make it back before dusk."
As we passed the last houses of Winterfell, Ken suggested detouring to the brothel under the guise of seeking a cure. "Might as well ask the ladies if they know a remedy for the pox," he joked, provoking laughter from the others.
"I'm heading into the woods to search for herbs," I stated, ignoring their mockery.
Ken blocked my path. "Lord Stark's orders were to keep you safe. You're not wandering off alone."
His condescension was the last straw. "Just go and enjoy yourselves. We'll meet here by sundown and keep this excursion between us," I proposed, my tone brooking no argument.
Laughing, Ken shook his head. "Who gave you the right to order us around? You'll follow and do as we say bastard."
Their laughter echoed mockingly as they headed towards the brothel, leaving me to simmer in helpless fury. "Remember, I always pay my debts," I called after them, a promise laced with venom.
—------------------
Hours Later
The muffled noises seeping from the rooms kept my anger simmering. My fingers clenched into my palms so tightly they might have drawn blood. A girl with fiery red hair emerged from the back, her arms laden with a tray of empty cups and bowls. She flashed a cheeky grin at me. "What's a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?"
I glared at her. "Save your breath for someone else," I snapped harshly, but she only laughed in response.
"And what's got you so wound up, my lord? Did one of the ladies upset you? Perhaps I could help with that," she teased, her smile not reaching her eyes.
"You play your part well," I retorted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I suppose the men here appreciate your... talents."
Her laughter peeled out, genuine this time. "Ah, so the rumors are true. You do have quite the temper, Cregan, Ned Stark's bastard."
"Rumors?" I frowned, taken aback.
She nodded, amusement flickering in her eyes. "They say you're quick to anger, picking fights without cause. Seems they weren't wrong." With that, she stood to leave, pausing only to throw over her shoulder, "And for the record, I haven't begun working here yet—I'm still untouched, waiting for someone of worth."
Her words puzzled me as she disappeared, leaving me to stew in my thoughts. Wasn't I respected among the northern folk? Reflecting on my past actions, I realized I had let my emotions lead me astray. This wasn't who I was meant to be; I needed to be more calculated, to choose battles I could win. From now on, no more mistakes—if someone crossed me, they would regret it.
I rose to get some air, stepping outside into the cool night. My mind raced, knowing that blame would inevitably fall on me and Lady Stark would side against me for staying out later than promised. I had to stay sharp, not be outmaneuvered by fools.
Suddenly, a hood was thrown over my head, and I struggled, tripping over my feet. Ripping the hood off, I found myself face-to-face with a man dressed in black. He lifted his hood and smiled.
"Have you forgotten your own uncle, you foolish boy?"
A smile cracked across my face. Yes, here was the ally I needed.
I quickly filled him in, and he was livid, ready to storm the brothel and wreak havoc, but I had other plans. "Fetch my bow and knife from my room," I instructed. My training with the bow had made me a formidable archer, capable of striking targets up to 200 yards away with deadly precision. The bow was custom-made, heavy, but perfect for my needs, though it taxed my strength to use it repeatedly. My knife wasn't just for fighting; I used it to carve wood, honing my skills daily. With these tools, I was ready to take my revenge.
—---------------
The next day
Perched in a tree in the forest, I waited, armed with the bow and knife my uncle had delivered under the misconception that they were merely for protection against wolves. Hours passed before I heard rustling from my left. Peering out, I saw them—four guards approaching, oblivious to my presence. I drew my bow, calculated their pace, and loosed two arrows in quick succession, striking their knees and felling them to the ground. Before the other two could react, arrows found their ankles.
Descending from my perch, I revealed myself. Ken, recognizing me, roared in rage, "You little shit, I'm going to kill you!" I silenced his threats with more arrows to their knees, then bound them and dragged them deeper into the forest.
Once secured to a tree, I confronted them. "Do you know why I'm doing this?" Ken spat back, "You bastard, Cat will have your head for this." I smiled coldly, "Perhaps, but you won't live to see it." Their disbelief was evident as I drew my knife and began to exact my retribution, their screams muffled by the surrounding snow. After the deed was done, I burned their remains and found a creek to wash away the blood.
Stained and exhausted, I wandered back towards town, my steps unconsciously leading me to the brothel. Inside, I was greeted by Ros, who offered a drink. "It seems your uncle isn't as noble as your father," she teased with a knowing look.
In a private room, I requested something to eat, still disoriented by the night's events. Ros returned with mead and snacks, sitting close and attempting to seduce me despite my indifference. After a series of failed attempts, she bluntly inquired, "Are you not interested at all?" Misunderstanding her skills as the issue, I tried to dismiss her.
Her touch, however, sparked a reaction I hadn't expected, and soon, I surrendered to the moment. My uncle's sudden return caught us; his shock evident as he exclaimed, "Already? At your age?" I shrugged off his surprise and dressed after Ros finished, promising to return as long as she kept her promise to herself.
Two days later i returned, as my uncle and I were escorted to the main hall, he asked if I was certain about leaving. "I refuse to stay and be tormented while Jon suffers. I'll join you at the Wall until father returns." In the hall, Catelyn scolded me for my disobedience, but my uncle suggested taking me to the Wall. To my surprise, she agreed readily.
Packing my belongings, I bid a silent farewell to my sedated brother and left with my uncle, ready to face the harsh realities of the Wall and find my own strength.
