Cool hip bubble letters

Loona looked down at Nosedive from where she sat on the balcony.
"Your brother is kinda garbage if you think about it. He let you get shipped off and he still thinks you're just some kid." She gently told him as she lit both there cigarettes.
'I mean you're right, but at least he stayed with me." Nosedive pointed out before taking another puff. "Shit with him is messy at best, and it's not for me to say weather or not he actually cares. He still stuck with me after I aged out of being his legal responsibility, so I guess that's something."
'Dive, it's not as cut and dry as you make it sound. I wish I could block out shit as effortlessly as you do. What do you do?" Loona asked, her nonchalant tone shifting to worry with the question.
"Maybe we shouldn't go there." He sighed as he took another sip from his drink.
"Fair enough. Didn't think you really wanted to go there anyway." Loona huffed
______skip?__________
The lights from the party got a little brighter as Queen Bee begun her concert. Both of them looked into the flashing lights and then back at each other, moving so that they where cuddling in the balcony. Without exchangingvwords they sat in the noise of party and the silence between them. Without much thought, Nosedive leaned closer to Loona, not sure of what to expect.
Loona leaned forward and kissed Nosedive. Softly. Gently. With more love than he'd ever felt. Loona ran her hand through his blonde feathers, continuingvthe kiss as if they where alone, as if they had infinite time. Parting the kiss felt like agony for the both of them, like a burning hunger returned.
"Come home with me Dive, please." Loona requested with an unusually pleading tone, one asking for something.
"Are you sure?" He asked, wondering why she wanted him of all people.
"Of course I am. C'mon ducky." She smiled, her tone taking on a more a cheerful chime.
"Let's go then LooLoon." He chuckled with slight amusement at the fact she used his old nickname.
Loona leaned over and kissed him a bit harder, using his shirt to hold him in place as she did. Nosedive held her closer by her hips, gently squeezing them and illiciting a moan from her. His hands slide up her dress in time with her hands up his shirt. She moaned into his mouth [do I call it that because he has a beak?!?!] as his hand slipped under her panties and found her clit. The kiss parted as Loona began to pant and moan. The moment was soon interrupted.
"Get a room!!" A woman snapped at them.
"Hey lad- Nosedive??" A familiar voice called out.
Nosedive took a minute and decided to deny it. He'd gotten extensions and his tips bleached white an inch into his natural hair. He'd gotten a brow piercing too.
"No man, wrong guy." Nosedive lied
"Fuck is your problem?! What's the matter? Can't keep your brother in your sights so you harass random guys?! Not cool." Loona chimed with a snarl. She had a mental realization that the red highlights in her hair but for an inch on the root was a damn good idea on Nosedives part.
"Damn Nosedive left you. That's harsh!" A theelian woman snickered
"Wow replacing your brother already!"
"Can't take not being better than someone?" Blitz chimed.
"Holy fuck my guy. That's sad." Another imp chuckled.
Soon, Wildwing was the laughing stock of the party. Nosedive felt bad for about half a second. Blitz, Loona, Duke, Barriss, Pinky; all of them where right. Wildwing treated him like shit and deserved to be bottom bitch for a few hours. Loona gave a harsh snicker and led Nosedive out of the party and into his car.
(Do y'all want more???)

Sorry if this gets long, but I've never put all of this into words before. I've never even written it down or even really said it aloud, and when I've alluded to it to family members, I essentially get scolded and told I'm overreacting. But I have eyes, and I can see myself objectively, and I need to put all these thoughts somewhere.
I am 24 years old, and for almost entire life, I have hated the way I look. I remember being in kindergarten and telling my teacher that I thought I was ugly. That outlook hasn't really changed since.
It starts with my face. It's wide, and big, and my features are too small for it. (A common theme is that everything on my body seems to be out of proportion.) My smile is awful. It barely looks like a smile - more like I'm just sort of stretching my small mouth. It makes my cheeks balloon up and my eyes squint. My profile is also pretty bad; it looks long and squished. I have a double, asymmetrical chin, and I've had some hair loss (probably due to stress) that has created a couple of bald spots on either side of my forehead. It's all incredibly unpleasant to look at.
My hair is also a problem. Another theme is that for whatever myriad of reasons, I don't really have a great sense of how to do hair. It's always been a struggle for me. It's flat on top, which accentuates my big head, and often looks limp. It's some kind of curly, but it's hard to figure out how best to take care of it so it looks its best. Almost no hairstyles look good because - again - they all just make my head look even bigger, or make me look like a founding father or something. Even when I try my best, it looks limp and flat and ratty.
And I hate my body. I just do. I'm 5'1" and nothing looks to be in proportion. My thighs and hips are wide, and so are my shoulders, so I look like a funnel or a spinning top or whatever. And I just feel like I'm too heavy for my body. I try so hard to lose weight and stay fit and healthy, but I've been working out and eating healthy consistently and I have seen absolutely no change. It is so incredibly frustrating to put in this work and see no results. I have been self-conscious about my weight for a long time now, since high school, and I have even engaged in disordered eating habits. The first few months of 2020 and a few times since then, I have eaten only once a day in attempts to force myself into a deficit and get smaller. Of course, that didn't work.
I just feel so frumpy. I barely have a sense of style. When I was in middle school, I tried to get clothes that were popular in vain attempts to be cool, but I would mismatch them and just look as awkward as before. And now, while I struggle to find employment, I barely leave the house and have any reason to have nice clothes or dress in anything other than loungewear. I wear oversized clothes to hide my body, making me look even dumpier.
When I try to look nice on the rare occasion I have to, I do know how to put together a nice outfit and do makeup (the hair still alludes me for the most part), but when I see pictures of myself later, I feel like a pig with lipstick on. Pictures of myself literally repulse me. I got pictures taken my senior year of college, and when I got the proofs back, I sobbed. They were...awful. A similar thing happened to me when I went to prom. I only went as a junior (I could have gone my senior year, but I had no friends to go with), but I was so self-conscious about my body that I got a dress that covered me up completely and made me look like the mother of the bride. I don't have any pictures from that night because I hated how I looked so much.
I basically either freak out or cringe whenever I have to get my picture taken now.
I don't know. It's just hard. I know, I know - looks aren't everything, society creates impossible beauty standards, on and on and on. But is it so wrong that I want to look into the mirror or see a picture of myself and not cry? To not spend forever trying to get one nice picture of myself on the day of a special occasion and end up deleting all of them? I've been asked out as a joke. I've never had a romantic relationship or any sort of positive romantic attention from a guy. I've been avoided by people because I'm awkward and quiet and look it. I've tried the tricks with my hair and skin and makeup and the clothes that I have, but none of it is actually going to do anything. I tell myself that this shirt or this new step in my skincare routine or this new method with my hair will be the thing that makes me look better, but I know that's not true.
I'm at the point where I want there to be as little photographic evidence of my existence as possible. As long as I can stay clean, I guess that's enough at this point. I don't even know what the point in trying anymore is. I look bad. I'm not pretty. I never will be. I wish people around me, the people I care about, could at least admit it. For some reason, I feel like that would be a relief.
Sorry if this was a lot. But I needed to get it off my chest. Thanks for creating this space for me to do so.

When Keef came out with "Love Sosa" and "I Don't Like," he didn't just drop bangers—he flipped the whole genre on its head. You can hear his flow all over the place, from trap to melodic rap. It’s like he gave a whole generation of rappers permission to be as raw and experimental as possible. Not to mention the producers who took cues from BFTD2 and his all of his future productions - people mocked his beats when he started self-producing and now he’s getting beat placements on major-label projects.
What’s even crazier tho is how his influence spilled into other genres. You’ve got punk and emo rap artists channeling that same raw Sosa energy. He made it cool/acceptable to not give a FUCK about any sense of musical tradition. Chief Keef didn’t just change hip hop—he signaled a major shift in music and showed that experimental voices can have the deepest impact. It’s like he opened the door for so many artists who might have stood out too much before, but now they fit right in with this new wave he helped create. Uzi and Carti come to mind as two artists whose experimentalism is accepted en masse, both have collabed with Keef as well.

I have a rating for Lumbar DDD. I was rated for it in 2020. I recently went in to see a civilian spine surgeon and had new mris done. My spinal canal is shrinking causing radiculopathy in both of my legs. The surgeon suggested bilateral injections on my L5 which I did. I understand I can claim radiculopathy as a secondary based on my reading in this sub. Do I need anything outside of my mri, visit notes, and the injection procedure notes to claim it as a secondary?
My second question is I’ve been having pain in my left hip for a while as well. I have a service connected right knee injury. I tried claiming my left hip in my first claim with the VA but was denied. I didn’t have anything in my records and didn’t understand it needed to be claimed as a secondary condition. My gait is altered from my knee and my back. I also got a recent MRI for that as well and have osteoarthritis in my hip. Would claiming it as a secondary along with the recent mri, previous physical theory notes be all I need there? Or do I need a nexus letter from the spine surgeon as well? Does having a radiculopathy claim/diagnosis cause any issues getting the hip accepted?
Lastly I recently started seeing a psychologist and was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Do I need anything other than the diagnosis to claim depression as a secondary? I have tinnitus as well. Would claiming depression secondary to ddd, my knee, and tinnitus be my smartest path?
I can’t sit unsupported for more than a minute before everything below the belt goes numb. I constantly have pain/pins and needles in my legs. I don’t sleep very long or well among other things. I want to make sure I’ve got my t’s crossed and i’s dotted before I submit everything.

Has anyone ever gotten a letter telling them that there’s indications on their account that you’ve used the card for business (and not purely personal) reasons - in violation of the cardholder agreement?
I got such a letter and called Target to follow up. All of my purchases are ALWAYS for personal use. In fact, I buy the same things from Target all the time and my recent purchases are no different… but they were ONLINE recently, rather than in a store.
They had no answer. The supervisor I talked with put me on hold and talked with “Security” to discuss for more details.
All he could come back with was that it was a warning… and that if I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I didn’t have to worry. I responded that this kind of vague non-answer wasn’t cool. That I knew that they had an extensive data sciences team (they’re really some of the innovators in the big data space) and that there’s SOMETHING that triggered this letter.
But the supervisor had no answer… just more warnings.
So I’m wondering if anyone else has ever received such a thing or knows any real details about why I would get such a letter. I suppose I would’ve suspected a potential fraud notification because of the online nature of the purchases… but not this.
Any ideas?

I have been tormented over this fact for a while now despite advice from my friend to not confront this person. I need an external opinion.
I have been very close friends with this person, let's call her Bob, for about 3 years. We met in university and have hit it off by our shared interests. Our friendship was good for the last 2 years. She even considered me her best friend at some point.
Bob is an introverted person who was kinda raised by the “tumblr '' internet, in her bubble obsessed with obscure references. (So am i) and has a very Close relationship with her mom (if I was in a call with Bob its was never just the two of us but Bob me and Bob's mom. Never had a call where it was just the two of us or nor an outing) bobs moms is always (over) protecting her , she doesn't wish to hurt and feelings and always goes her way and bob is kinda childlike at times, baby voices ,innocence over everything nsfw or more serious topics.(can't blame her, not all there yet with adulthood either.) She has an overall sweet innocent persona that she is known for by most.
But the last year has been just bottom of the barrel for our relationship. Its our last year of university and we are assigned a project that will last all year and we are paired up by groups of 12 to create this project( video game)
However, at the start of the year I noticed her making some untasteful jokes at my expense to the people of the groups I am not acquainted with, so it made me quite uncomfortable (Exemples implying that i was harsh and cruel for asking them help to file a document and stressing her out, or one time we were just chilling and eating in class and for no reason join a facetime reunion with people from my project and started filming me laughing her ass off with no disclosure we had been silently eating at this point. After she hanged up she just acted as if nothing happen after i explained to never to that again it made me feels humiliated but i let It slide at the time) She seemed to have an issue with me particularly giving her feedback and trying to help her out but since she took a very important part of the project under her wing I thought it was important to have changed to be logical with the whole project. And she was just very harsh and dismissive of my feedbacks but at our milestone this issue i had underline was pointed out during our next milestone (at the time i thought it was better that it was me making her the harsh feedback that she had to start her design over instead of the judges) but didnt listen and was mad at me for some reason after the milestone
i'll try to make it as short as possible so :

• we made a meeting to be on par with the artistic direction of the game. She said yes but never followed up on her promise. And meetings to see what the other artists in the group were doing (if i never proposed them ,she wouldn't do them and no one would know what should be done for next week or what everyones been doing and then complain that she didn't know what we were doing. We share classes everyday we are all in close proximity)

-took the most important parts of the project for herself without sharing what we had to do with the rest of the artists in our group. And was mad about any feedback if we didn't compliment her and mad if we also did a part of the project she was working on.
-was supposed to be the bridge between the differents groups the lead of the artist (the artist the techs and the game design) never quite did. Was not happy when i did it or other artist cause we stole her tasks. If we didnt do them so wouldnt despite trying to get the idea into her head via out loud remarks
-wouldn't work for 2 weeks because of a feedback on a concept that bumped her out (we tried to reasure her when we learned)
-Says she does one thing only to never do it and take other’s tasks and not saying leaving the other scrambling to find things to do because they are not communicated to us.
-doesn't relate when some of us cant work so the big leader of the project say we don't work to the principle during a meeting… so we have to explain yourself to the principal the school. Talk about stress
We had an argument about halfway in the project because i got tired of the snide remarks aimed at me and other artists in the group . I didn't want to be treated like that by a close friend so I stayed away for a while waiting for things to cool down and talk about it and waited for her to talk to me she never did. So i stayed away because i was tired of doing so much work and not being meet halfway. She never did so i did after a discussion with another friend and told her when she is done eating to join me so we can talk. We sit next to each other in every class. She never did. I reminded her 2 other times when she was talking to other people she nodded but nothing. I got really fed up and gave up. Until a week or two i receive a long paragraph of like 8 pages of Bob feeling about our arguments. Won't detail here because its not in english and I don't want to share her feelings into the internet. When I received it I was on a call with a few friends who gave me an external view. But we had a similar conclusion Its was ego, Bob's personal problems, the consequence of our argument and crippling self doubt (I thought undiagnosed anxiety by the way it was written. Told her to please talk to professional before it harms her health) Felt shitty after reading that not gonna lie bob expressed crying herself to sleep at times... So i responded with a few pages of my own with a few questions and suggestion and waited for her answer ... a gif? So I figured meh guess she'll text me later or we'll talk later. My life goes in shamble the next day( im kiddin just had the realization that i had a few terribles grades because i sacrificed my homework for the project) so i fix a few things that week and focus on my homeworks and all is better but bob doesn't come we talk a bit here and there but doesn't bring anything up so i after a few days a friend tell me to confront her cause she never will because "i scare her" So after school I ask all the questions and all the important stuff and hear her response. It seemed to be going well so at the end we hug it all and little by little everything gets better (except her mother who tries to kill me with her stare when she go get her from school) but hey figured she'll talk to her mom about me and she'll be mad at me for bob’s sadness over all this fiasco. But we worked it out. We try to communicate better when she says when she doesn't want critique and I'll try another way to say things when she wants feedback that goes smoother. All good right?
A few weeks after that a few classmates took me aside to talk to me about an issue. Bob's be gossiping , ranting about me all this time. From the start of the project to now. And it hasn't stopped. I dont care if she vents her frustration, everyone does hell i did. But i did it with my friends. Not with most of the classroom, people whom she is not even friends with. I asked a few people from very different friendship groups , and them having the same story is... heartbreaking She has been spitting on my name when i am absent (i have a few chronic sickness andi have tendonitis for 2 years now that she knows about so), that i don't do anything,i leave everyone in the shit , they don't know what i am doing , i don't communicate, (it was apparently more violent and harsh (some of my dirty laundry also) but i couldn't get the words out of the persons i asked because it was a lot to take in at once and got more infos after but soften to not bump me out too badly ) but needless to say i think i am doing the best i can trying to work and bridge between all of the artists. I am working and helping when I can. I am easily reachable (and god dammit i made agenda to help us better but she hasn't bothered to fill it ) and i work despite my illness even when i should be resting. Taking workload To help depsite not being my tasks.
I swear to god it's a primary school drama. I felt betrayed by such a childish act because And she knows that I have been bullied bad by people who acted as my friend to only spill my dirty laundry at the whole class. Isolating me and making me a laughing stock. it was like she was mocking me where it hurts.
Anyway, what would you do after learning thoses information? What i did? I ignored her for the rest of the semester and planned to block her after. She has purposely tried to harm my reputation with my classmates and god knows who else but also people from my project where I have been out of the loop about what we have to do for a while. I get some unpleasant remarks from other people fo the groups over some non important stuff and my message are not read or unanswered at times and has not transferred stuff said that was told or not respecting my boundaries (exemple me not being able to work a week because i was doing homeworks, put me into a rush at a time I told i was unavailable had to cancel my birthday to work on the project despite stating in advance to please check if my work is working as intended a few weeks in advance) She has made me suffer a hell lot . Hell i think my hands have been doing worse Because of all this stress and lack of sleep from all year long haha.
I talked to a few people in the class about it and tried to clear my name and people seemed to mostly be by my side. And a few professors because I got scared about the consequences (me not getting my diploma if most of the group says i am not working, and my homeworks having been thrown out the windows for the project (because i was asked to do stuff in an emergency to never have that stuff used at the end) ;-; ) . I'm trying not to put her in popo but to keep my head above water. And since the relationship has died down to a professional one. I feel better and no more like a rug in this friendship. I'm kinda sad to feel like you have to submit to my friend and her mom’s way or they'll be mad at ya and other stuff that i may be overthinking on that should have ticked about her being two faced.
I know it's hard to only have one side who is biased. I apologize. If u need more information please tell me i'll add more details to the og post don't know how to condensed that much stuff.
So redditors
Should I confront her after the project is done in a few weeks or just leave her out of my life ?
TLDR: friend talked crap about me for months until i found out. Debating confronting her or cutting her out of my life

This is a long post but I'm sure some of you guys can relate
So after a long hiatus, I started to rewatch S10 today and I only got to the part where that fucking blue iroc pulls up to the gate, before I had to turn it off because of angeanxiety over all of the bullshit in this season. I'd love to say that the worst part of the season was where J-roc came back with that airheaded Mexican chick but that's wishful thinking. What's wrong with this season is... Well, many multitudes of things (mostly the idiot characters.)
Everyone acts like they've got a stick up their asses, starting with Lucy. I know she was plucked away from George Green's place where the floozy should have stayed tbh. She thought her ugly old ass could have another kid after she gave up her greasy cheeseburger baby that Randy put in her. She was even more of a bitch when Sarah came to stay "while she got her shit together." Even Ricky objected to Sarah barging into Ricky's home, and being a freeloading ass on Ricky's-no Jacob's-dime. She and Lucy think their shit don't stink by demanding that Ricky get a job, not them, of course, no doubt minimum wage, to support those two. I get that the baby's a lot of work, but I assume that's why Trin doesn't work-to take care of The motel, formally known as Ray...
Meanwhile, Lucy and Sarah expect Ricky and Jacob to support them while they refuse to get work and help out, Rick does a job or two because that's all he knew. Then they get pissed because they act righteous like Ricky's a loser, according to Sarah. With this Queen of Sheba attitude, Lucy thinks she had the right to tell Ricky that he was "out of the family" after the queens from hell (nm, that title is for someone else. More on that later...) find that safe in the trunk. When Sarah laughed and said "wow" to Ricky afterwards, I seriously wanted to slap the shit out of her.
What confused me is that at one point Lucy and Sarah wanted to go do a job with the boys, and were whooping and all gung-ho about breaking the law like Bonnie Parker, (from Bonnie and Clyde) but treat Ricky like an idiot when they use the winch idea to steal the rack of bicycles. Granted, that was a good idea, but damn. Then Ricky had to talk his way out of their situation with campus security, while the girls tossed their vests and just walked away..
Fast forward to the bitches from hell. Candy, Donna and the other broad.. Oh Barb. Those three should have gone back to prison where they belong for all the crap they pulled. Fuck, they were annoying. Candy alone was a cujo thundercunt from hell who I wanted to take that fucking pink bat and put it where the sun don't shine (although she'd probably like it lol.)
I felt so sorry for Lahey, who was getting his life back in order and getting as sober as possible (for him anyway) and finally living in peace and not bothering anyone. I honestly loved his quiet little place and it suited him well. It was hard to see Candy commit elder abuse by physically and emotionally assaulting Jim, by grabbing his manhood and demanding they stay at HIS place "as LONG as we want" (like how tf did she even fit in that little camper anyway...) And dumping their trash on Jim's head while thinking they were "too good" for the tent he bought.
Poor Jim was driven to drink by those bitches after they trespassed on his property, stole his chicken dinner, and fucking Donna taking his movie. Barb was a stupid looking crusty old wannabe biker skank, Donna was ugly as shit and Candy was so hideous that they were all walking salt peter. Oh and when Candy's fat blimp ass twisted Randy's tits and fucking bitch Donna (do I even call her that?) kidnapping and raping Randy with a fucking frozen fish. Just unbelievable.
Frig bitches caused Lahey to go off the deep end and force Leslie to drink at gunpoint before going to the park, and then was spray painted by a bunch of celebs who turned TPB into the national enquirer. Jimmy Kimmel. Fuck that asshole lol. It felt SO fake with bubbles talking to him and when the boys start fighting again, Bubbles apologized like * "I'm sorry Jimmy Kimmel"* before Bubs closed the laptop and started crying and whining like a detard. I wonder what clattenburg thought of these shit on a stick episodes, if he even cared to see them.
Lastly, snoop was cool and I appreciated Tom's enthusiasm and excitement, but it seemed fake and overkill. Him wanting to fuck LUCY of all women; then Julian and Sarah trying to take portions of Lucy's money for themselves. Tom wanted to give Trin the best wedding ever but it seems like Lucy just bought Trin's dress and nothing else. No formal reception, no bridesmaids, nothing. I get that her dad was in bad shape in the hospital, but it seemed like she deserved more for her wedding. Which told me that Lucy probably pocketed the remaining money without helping to get housewares or a car for Trin and Jacob, or to buy another trailer for her and Trin and Jacob, if she hated living with Ricky so much. That's what I would've assumed that a good mom would do.
Honorable mention goes to j-rocs dimple minded wife and that asshole kid. They both fit racial stereotypes for their races, especially when MC Flurry kept making "jokes" toward Hispanic and white people. It seemed more offensive than anything, and these racial slurs were supposed to be cute, but just pissed me off. Even Snoop got in on the racial slurs, calling j-roc John Denver and a liquid paper colored mah'fucka. But it's Snoop so he can get away with it..
Last but not least, once Barb and her bitch gang start shit and Lahey shoots Ricky, she turns all nice and caring while the other two slugs disappear into the abyss. And the asshole Colonel Dancer as well. Poor guy got himself back on track just to end up in jail (?) These broads should have been in jail for the shit they pulled and Barb covered her ass when becomes all buddy buddy with Lucy and Trin after she pulled the crap that nearly killed Ricky. Poor Trin couldn't even have her father walk down the hospital room aisle... I guess but maybe,, just maybe Julian's her daddy.
So my face went from 🤬 to 👺, the longer the season went lol. On the bright side, at least Ricky was with Lucy and not that skinny bitch Susan yet. Ugh..
Sorry for the rant, imma go smoke a joint.. maybe I have pms or something 🤣😡🥲
(p.s. fuck it would've been fun watching the bitch trio and certain aforementioned characters getting the living shit kicked out of them before getting Randy and Ted take them down..)

[Part 2]
The twenty men, Lady Maege, and Ser Rolph continued up the paths in the lightless caves of Casterly Rock, huffing and puffing, but still silent as much as they could hold. One loud word at the wrong place at the wrong time may be their doom. In single file, the group followed Ser Spicer’s point with one lit torch. The stench was terrible and the dampness made it worse. Guarding the rear, Olyvar’s eyes were clouded in darkness at times where the torchlight was too far ahead to shine back. He relied on Ser Goose in front of him to lead the way, as Goose relied on Leo for the same.
Suddenly a whisper could be heard from the darkness at the front of the line. “Duck.” Then another slightly louder, “Duck” … and then another, and then another … each “Duck” a little louder than before. Is there a duck here in the sewers? Olyvar thought.
“Duck.”
“Duck.”
“Duck.”
“Duck.”
Finally Leo turned around and told Goose, “Hello … Duck.”
Goose replied with pride, “I am no Duck!” Instantly as the tall knight crept forward, he thumped his head on an unlit rusty beam that was lowered onto their path. He fell backwards into a puddle of wet cold stool, ass first, toes off the ground, and staining his breeches. “Awww shit!”
Ser Olyvar helped the soiled knight up as his squire, Leo, told everyone in front what happened. They all forgot their stealth, and began to laugh.
“Come on Goose, you are slowing us down!” someone said.
“Ducks can move faster than you, Goose! You have to catch up and chase after us now!” a voice that sounded like Scrooge, said.
“You have to be more nimble and more quick Goose!” another one japed.
“All over my life, I have travelled land and sea. From my experiences, I learned that I would rather be more lucky!” the unclean bandit knight replied with the truth. “Or get lucky! Heh!” the daffy Goose added cheerfully.
“But you are no duck, right Goose?” Ser Raynard’s voice called.
They continued to laugh and began moving forward again. Ser Barnabus the stinking Goose with his honor stained, stood up and pointed his chin high. “Aye my lords, this bird you cannot change!” He shook his tailfeather, took himself low, and was ready to go.
As the thunderstorm clouds outside shifted, a pale grey blade of light emerged from a crack in the walls and shone the brown spot where Goose had fallen. It illuminated a tiny golden speck. Looking back and curious, Goose placed both hands through the muck, underneath the lumpy object and pulled. He lifted up a slimy brown sphere, the size of an orange, and rubbed off the slush. Goose held the carved rock to the thin line of the dying light and widened his large eyes.
Gold, unmistakable. “Goose, did you just lay a golden egg?” Olyvar japing quietly.
“I guess I did!” Goose whispered in glee. Ser Barnabus began singing to it softly. “I know that you don’t know it, but you’re a find so fine! And I’m going to show you that now you’re a mined of mine! My treasure, that is what you are! My precious, you’re my golden star! Hehehe!” He hugged it. Goose looked back to Olyvar. “Don’t tell the Black Sparrow!” He continued to giggle, despite scarring his face at the forehead. “Leo, come over here! Say hello to my little friend!”
His young squire came back, ducked under and asked. “Say hello to who? The Black Sparrow? He isn’t very little in person.”
“No you stupid sweet boy, definitely avoid the Black Sparrow! That captain is not my friend, my friend. We have to fool that fool.” He showed an astonished Leo the little golden egg before he hid it again from sight. They continued up the path towards their objective with Ser Goose the tall hedge knight finally ducking under, his pants stained in brown.
Olyvar had lost count of how far they ascended as they reached one of Ser Rolph Spicer’s checkpoints. They rested there for a few moments where the paths forked into several other directions. He then instructed Ser Olyvar Frey, Lady Mormont and Leo to wait here until the rest returned. In the meanwhile, they were to familiarize themselves with the area in case they needed a detour.
Not long after the group left them, Olyvar heard another man speaking through the rocky walls. Maege followed the voice through one of the forks, and found a hole that appeared to spy into a cell of the castle’s dungeons. She peeked through and spoke in disgust “Gods! What the hell! No!” She left the area and began looking for an entrance into the dungeons from the hidden hallways. Olyvar peeped through the hole and saw what seems to be an old maester in robes, with many rings around his neck. Inside, he harbored a boy and a girl who appeared to be twins, no older than ten. The boy had his shirt off, while the maester sniffed the girl’s hair and had a hand cupped at her clothed chest.
What in Seven Hells? Olyvar thought.
The elderly maester spoke to them, as they trembled like leaves. “Thank you children for helping me. I am Maester Valarik, this is very very important research for, um, the Citadel. Now let’s begin.”
Suddenly out of nowhere, Lady Maege Mormont burst open the dungeon door. “Let’s not!”
The shocked maester jolted to his feet, confused. “Are you their mother?”
“A MOTHER!” the She-Bear claimed in her crony crackling voice as she walked up to Valarik. Here she stood as Lady Mormont kicked the maester in between the legs, his screams alive with pain. His eyes began to tear as he fell backwards to the ground. Lady Mormont dropped down to him and drew her dagger. “Shut your mouth or I’ll make an eunuch out of you!” The maester still in agony replied with a silent nod. She lied to the twins, saying she was a washerwoman employed to the castle. “What the maester did was wrong and I will have the castellan punish him.” She urged the siblings to go home, but not tell anyone what had happened until they were outside of Casterly Rock. After they left, Maege in her barbaric tone told the maester, “You dusty fuck! Get in there!” as she led him into the hidden hallways behind the dungeon.
Ser Olyvar greeted the hostage, “Not another word Maester Valarik. She may geld you but I will shove my dagger up your arse.”
They continued to wait at the checkpoint, anxious for the Blackfish’s return with Queen Jeyne and Lord Edmure. Leo brushed back a lock of his ash-blond hair that fell down across one eye. Lady Mormont continued to stare at Valarik’s crotch while holding her naked dagger, twirling it at the pointy end for boredom. The silent maester was well aware, and would not return his eyes to meet hers.
Suddenly they heard a woman’s moan echoing in the distance. Torchlight illuminated the foot of the pathway and brightening the walls with each passing moment. Escorted by Goose, a thin girl with a mop of chestnut hair emerged. She was pretty like the daisy sewn on her gown that was covering a flat chest. “Eleyna!” Olyvar was animated. They hugged as he asked, “So what happened to your breasts?”
“I ate them.” She said in her high cheery voice. She stuck her small chest out, chin in the air, fists at the end of her narrow hips and twerked it for two beats. “How you like them apples?”
Olyvar smiled at the inside joke.
The Useless Goose then grabbed Leo and tapped Eleyna’s shoulders from behind. “Hi, have you met Leo?” Barnabus vanished in an instant.
She turned around and introduced herself. “Hello Leo, I’m Eleyna, the Queen’s sister.”
Leo was star-struck. “Are you a princess?”
“I guess I am a princess,” she said sarcastically. “Are you here to rescue me?”
Leo nodded up and down, trying to contain his excitement.
“Leo O’ Leo … my hero!” She kissed him on the cheeks, and Leo’s face began to blush, red as apples.
His brothers Raff, Donal, and Mikkal had emerged from the rocky opening just in time to watch. They wrapped their arms around one another, and nodded proudly at their youngest brother.
The others soon followed, pouring out of the tunnel entrance. Olyvar greeted his brother-in-law Lord Edmure Tully. “My sister is waiting for you back at the ship, with my future nephew or niece. Be a good father to your child.”
“And you be a good uncle. It is a honor to have you at our side, Ser Olyvar,” Lord Edmure replied respectfully.
Lady Sybell Spicer came down with her brother Ser Rolph, clutching a moaning Queen Jeyne Stark on both sides. She was garbed in simple loose fitted robes, pretending to serve as Eleyna’s plumped handmaiden. Olyvar was ecstatic. Jeyne’s mother then announced, “She is in labor!”
“What?!” As Olyvar and Maege said in unison. “Now!?”
Olyvar ran to Jeyne, straight to his sister’s arms and she kissed him on the forehead. “I kept my promise,” Olyvar told her.
Jeyne was feverish, sweating and mumbling words. “You did, I knew you were somewhere beyond the sea. I was here waiting for all of you, to sneak onto golden sand and rock. I was watching all the ships sailing by, not knowing which one will be my daring escape.” She looked towards her other brother Raynald. “I just knew my Ray lied somewhere over the ocean, and my Olly lied somewhere over the sea … both my brothers fighting to come back to me. Up in this castle mountain where it meets the heavens above, out where lightning splits the sea, I could still feel you two watching me. Through the wind, the chilly sea, and the rain … and now the storm and the flood. I felt your approach like the fires in your blood! I need … I need …”
“We need to go!” Ser Olyvar finished for her.
As the others began going into the next tunnel, the Queen in the North shook all the right-hands of the strangers that came to rescue her, while each man placed a left-palm on her round belly for a soft instant. With Jory, Jess, Ser Spicer, Ser Brynden and her brother Ser Raynard, she gave a hug each. She then trailed all of them with Olyvar and Raynard holding her weight. They descended down the path they came from, back to the LionsJape, WinterStorm and BattleWolf. Queen Jeyne Stark continued to scream. Oh, bloody shit. This will be the death of us. The descent will be much faster, but it was still a long way to go. With the Queen moaning in labor, they decided to light two more torch lights. Being heard here is just as unfortunate as being seen. But the darkness in front of him still faded in and out, confusing Olyvar’s eyes in blur. For a moment, the knight fantasized about golden dragons down here in the empty gold mines and sewers of Casterly Rock, to illuminate the rest of the route with flames … expediting the rescue.
Where in the hell is Lord Gawen Westerling? His trumpets and drums? It would at least muffle out Jeyne’s cry. At any moment, they could be heard … and then they could be trapped.
Then the Blackfish noticed Maester Valarik was in their party. “Who in the Seven Hells are you?”
Lady Maege told Ser Brynden and allowed the quivering maester to speak. “I am the maester of Casterly Rock. I don’t know what is going on here. Pl- … please let me go, I won’t say a word. I … I am innocent, I was just treating the children for an illness.”
“You said it was for research,” Maege interrupted.
“Um … bb … both,” the maester lied.
“In a dungeon? No tools nor vials?” Maege questioned rhetorically.
The maester had no answer for that. He looked back to the Blackfish. “Ser, you must understand-“
The Blackfish cuts him off. “Must I? I heard enough of your sorcery, Maester. Shut your mouth or I’ll throw you out of a window.”
The group was nearing the sea’s level, until they encountered the original path that dipped up and down. It was filled with flooded water from the storm surges. Ser Brynden Tully cursed at the sea trap. Olyvar knows the Blackfish could swim under it like he did at the moat of Riverrun, but not the others. They began to retreat and regroup.
Ser Rolph approached Ser Brynden, not shaken nor stirred, and offered a detour. “Follow me, this way leads to the kitchen of that courtyard at the base of the cliffs. At that courtyard, there is a large sewer drain that would lead us back to the paths of the rowboats. It is risky, we may be spotted.”
“We may be sitting ducks,” Goose added to the complaint.
“We have no choice,” said the Blackfish.
They followed Ser Rolph, with his niece still moaning.
They reached the hidden entrance to the kitchen and began to secure the area with weapons & shields drawn. It was empty. No gatherings or weddings were to be held outdoor this evenfall, especially with the thunderstorm. Olyvar peeked outside. Overcast clouds threw down rain-water onto dirt and stone, as the setting sun was half bathe into the ocean’s clear golden horizon. The courtyard by the sea was no bigger than the feast hall at the Twins. Stone pathways met at the middle, leading into a circular floor-drain that was exposed at the center of the yard. Twenty feet high granite pillars the size of tree trunks supported the open rectangular balcony above the ground level, overlooking the ocean. The kitchen doors were connected to the bottom level, but Olyvar was unsure what would lurk above them on the second floor balconies, with its four feet high parapet and six feet of platform width. Lightning flashed the columns bright white as the wet grass turned into mud.
Ser Brynden paced around the kitchen for a moment, trying to hide his shaking hands. He assessed the situation and regrouped the band of brothers. “Bows and arrows,” he commanded … and they obeyed. “Each men take cover behind a pillar. Sprint to it and establish a defensive stance with an arrow nocked to the string of your bow. Keep your eyes open. Rico will run to the middle alone, pull out the drain cover and retreat back. Alesander! Ray! Run to the opened drain and descend down the ladder. Once it is clear, let us know. We’ll bring Jeyne down first, followed by her sister and mother, and then Edmure.”
“Brothers!” as they assemble behind the closed double doors in single line. “Nock!”
From a window, Maester Valarik spied over to the drain, and then tried to block the traffic at the kitchen exit. “This is absurd! I have friends in court and I can vouch for you! Give yourselves up! This is madness, this is ludicrous!”
The She-Bear grabbed him. “Move maester, get out of the way!” She threw him to the corner by the pantry. Lady Mormont drew her dagger, gleaming silvery-blue for an instant as a crack of thunder boomed through the window. She pressed the flat of her blade onto his crotch and the terrified maester began to piss himself. Lady Maege disgusted, leaned back and threatened, “We have not killed anyone yet. You stay here like a good quiet dog and oblige, or this bear lady will rock your head away with a club when she comes back!”
Ser Brynden opened the double doors as Ben and Benjen held it. The Blackfish ran out first, around the perimeter to the furthest side of the terrace, forty yards away with bow & arrow in hand. The other men followed and fell into their positions, squishing their footsteps on the mud and stone.
Rico, Phyl, and Sam the Shredder followed the Blackfish to the southern side and took cover behind a column each. Scrooge, Donal, Raff, Mikkal and Leo sprinted for the eastern pillars as June, Jory, Jess, Fess and Lord Galbart Glover took the west. Ben and Benjen left their kitchen doors to joined Ser Goose and Ser Rolph Spicer at the closest posts of the north.
Queen Jeyne, Lady Maege, Lady Eleyna, Lady Sybell, and Lord Edmure stayed inside the kitchen with Ser Olyvar … as Ser Raynard and Alesander were ready to their task.
Rico unarmed, darted from his column towards the center of the courtyard and tore open the drain cover with ease. He flung it over the mountainous wall and into the sea as he headed back to his pillar, re-arming himself with the bow.
Alesander Frey and Ser Raynald Westerling, dashed towards the open drain and attempted to descend. Their shields, quivers and bows were caught at the circular entrance, so they discarded them at the base before going below. After Ser Raynald gave the clearance, Olyvar and Maege discarded their weapons and escorted Jeyne slowly and gently towards their escape, their clothes soaking in the rain. Olyvar kept Honor slung center at his back. Raynald offered himself as Jeyne sat on her older brother’s shoulders as they descended down the twenty foot ladder. Olyvar was doing everything he could to keep Jeyne stable from above as rain-water trickled down the drain.
When they reached the bottom, Olyvar noticed a weirwood tree staring right at him. A godswood? Here? The cavern was surrounded by roots and several rocky openings as well. He paid it no more mind and walked Jeyne towards a sewer entrance where Alesander was waiting for them. “The rowboats are not far! I see them, just a few more paces from here. I’ll keep a lookout on that exit.” He scouted ahead again.
Jeyne could not advance any further and fell lightly to the ground. “I can’t move anymore.”
Lady Maege came down the ladder and positioned herself between Jeyne’s legs. “Push your Grace! Push! Push!”
The rumbling of the thunderstorm was getting much louder.
Leo surprisingly came down with Eleyna and told Olyvar, “I think I hear a few soldiers moving on the second floor balcony. The parapets won’t allow us to see what’s hidden behind it.”
No not now. “It could be just the thunderstorm,” Olyvar hoped.
Lady Sybell and Lord Edmure Tully soon followed down the ladder. “I believe there are Lannister soldiers getting into positions above us. They must be waiting for more of their reinforcement to arrive,” Edmure sounded sure.
Olyvar cursed.
The Blackfish came down next. “We need to leave now. The storm surges will steal our rowboats as well.”
Jeyne was still moaning. Maege was still instructing, “Push! Push! Push!”
Olyvar began panicking in this awful shit-storm of a mess. “We need to go now! The soldiers are coming! The thunderstorm is coming!”
“WINTER IS COMING BETWEEN HER GRACES LEGS!” Maege screamed back.
Olyvar could not help but to chuckled for a beat before being serious again. “Bloody shit. Winter needs to be going!”
“Look son, I’m not your mother. You go figure it out yourself,” Lady Maege protested.
Olyvar felt like a fool below the Rock, looking back at all the wrong paths that got him lost here. If I just lied to my father of my intentions, and informed his Grace not to come to the Twins, we would not be here now at some shit sewer in the Westerlands. Jeyne would be crying in childbirth at Winterfell after Robb had retaken it from the Ironborn. King, Queen and babe Stark would be safe and sound. And me … I would be their Kingsguard knight … Ser Olyvar Frey … the Kingsavior.
“Ray, go find Alesander and summon him to return here to help. He is not far.”
Olyvar looked toward his Queen as Maege Mormont continued working in between Jeyne’s thighs, awaiting for the wolf-pup that their world was here for. Let us pray it is only one babe. A pair of twins would surely mean the doom of them. There was nothing Olyvar realistically wanted more now than Lord Gawen’s trumpets, and his young son Rollam’s drum rolls. Where is our diversion to get the Lannister soldiers to march away from us?
Goose tried to come down the ladder next, but the big man was stuck on top even with his weapons and shield forfeited. His golden egg had bulged out from his pocket, stopping him from entering the small circular drain. He was trying to work it out of his clothes.
Olyvar kneeled down next to his Queen, trying to facilitate this shit storm anyway he could. He went to feel for the letter he wrote to his father, but instead found the colorful bright feather that Captain Samullu gave to him earlier. He offered it to Queen Stark for some comfort.
“A gift? It is so beautiful Olyvar,” she said in discomfort. “I have a gift for you as well.” She summoned her mother and removed a thin cloak from her purse. Queen Jeyne Stark took it and unveiled it to Olyvar. It was the castle of the Twins, colored in grey, seated on a field red hot as a chilled blue stream flowed under the bridge. Olyvar motioned to give her his back, and she attached the cloak onto him. “I knitted it myself.”
“It is gorgeous my Queen. What does it mean? The water under the bridge?”
“It means forgiveness here, so you can move on. Now promise me Olyvar, don’t leave us again. Protect us. Protect your King’s child. We must never separate again.”
Ser Olyvar Frey gave the Queen his word.
Goose had finally removed the golden rock from his hidden pocket, and held it with his hand. At the moment useless, the knight threw down the golden egg to Leo, as it flashed bright from the lightning above. The knight started down and down the ladder.
Suddenly a voice roared from above. “This is Ser Forley Prester! Drop your weapons! Drop them!”
Ser Barnabus started to curse as he stood on the ladder halfway. He took a deep breath in disappointment. “Come on Leo, we have work to do.” He ascended.
Leo gave the golden egg to a shocked Lady Mormont and took a step towards the ladder, but he then turned around to Eleyna. He kissed her on the lips. The princess fought back and held Leo’s blond head with both her hands, forcing more of herself onto him. Their tongues danced a secret hidden inside their mouths, taking each other’s breath away over and over again. Olyvar did not think they would ever let go, until Eleyna did, shedding a tear. Leo turned back to the ladder. Ice in his veins and without another word, he began to climb.
Ser Brynden shared a look with Ser Olyvar. “I’m not kissing you!” He began walking towards the ladder as well, with Lord Edmure Tully trailing. He shoved his nephew aside. “Your lady wife is waiting for you on that ship with your child! Protect them! Keep the Tully name alive! Fly away now! That is an order! Take Queen Jeyne Stark to the ship and protect her family too!” The Blackfish conjured a duty that Edmure could not decline. He gave his uncle a sad agreeing nod. While climbing up, the Blackfish then looked at Olyvar. “Ser Frey, guard this ladder!”
Though not giving any direct orders to the Seashell Knight, Ser Raynald Westerling kissed his sisters and mother. They begged him not to go, but Ray flew to the top as well.
Ser Olyvar got up and began to follow, but the crying Queen tugged his cloak. “Olyvar, you promised me.”
“Goodbye Jeyne. I have to do my duty.”
“Just hang on a minute. Listen and promise me Ser Frey. Don’t be a fool. If you are in trouble, don’t try to be brave, just fly, fly away. Find me.”
Olyvar Frey got to his knees again and kissed her forehead. “Okay. Jeyne, my Queen … I’ll be back. I promise.”
“We need to move her to the rowboats,” Alesander Frey suggested. Olyvar hugged his brother, and ordered him to carry Jeyne’s weight to the exit with Lord Edmure’s help. Sybell and Eleyna Westerling held up Jeyne’s thighs as Lady Mormont spearheaded the path with her torchlight in one hand and the golden egg curled on the other.
“You better be right behind us,” Maege commanded.
“I will,” Olyvar hoped.
The new knight approached the base of the wet ladder and began to climb. He reached halfway and stopped to listen above. The thunderstorm roared its fury, and the Blackfish was already speaking.
[Part 4]

[Part 1]
My king. The sad memories faded into blurred flashbacks.
Olyvar cherished the sweet time as his grace’s squire. Though two years older, it made no matter. A warrior king was training Olyvar the way of knighthood, almost any boy’s dream. He remembered on slow days, Robb Stark would spend time with him, teaching the art of the long sword and shield. He can still remember the cloudy day at the Crag’s courtyard and his Northern accent as he swung his blade at the squire. “Keep your shield up Olyvar. Keep it up.”
“It’s too heavy.” Olyvar replied as Robb swung on.
“If it wasn’t heavy, it wouldn’t stop a sword. So get it up.”
They sparred and sparred in the courtyard. Robb Stark was dancing with him, hilts in hands. After he knocked Olyvar to the dirt for the twentieth time, he lifted him back up.
“Come, drive at me.” Robb then grabbed Olyvar gently by the back of his neck. “Look Olly, keep your shield up or I’ll ring your head like a bell.”
Olyvar never forgot that moment, his Grace’s right-hand touch, the way Robb looked into his eyes and called him ‘Olly’. No one has ever called him that and he liked it very much. They continued to dance. Rain began to fall, turning dirt into mud. Olyvar darted at him. Robb stepped aside, deflecting the stab off his shield and twirled around forward in a natural motion, his cloak spinning in the air. Before Olyvar knew it, Robb had his rear, his sword ready to thrust or slash any part of him. He glanced back and knew he was lost. The dance paused there and Olyvar turned around to meet Robb’s beautiful blue eyes. He could melt in them.
“You had me your Grace.”
“Come Olly, it’s your turn.” A winter wind came blowing in from across the sea. A breeze lingered there, brushed Robb’s auburn hair. “Now, dance with me!”
It almost felt like a sin to be as excited as Olly was at that moment.
“I’ll drive to you now. Try to do what I just did. In mud like this, don’t forget to plant your foot before each movement. And remember, you have to keep your shield up.”
As Olyvar and Robb got into their positions, his older half-nephew Ser Ryman Frey suddenly appeared and intervened. He grabbed Olyvar like a little green boy and pulled him towards the exit. NO! Olyvar’s word caught in his mouth.
Robb spoke up for him. “What are you doing? Olyvar is my squire and a grown man. He can do what he wants and speaks for himself.”
“My grandfather has declared a suspension of your alliance with House Frey,” Ryman said. “You have broken a sacred vow. If you would not have his daughter or granddaughter as your queen, you certainly cannot have his son as your squire.”
Robb was expecting Olyvar to say something, but the squire froze. More Frey guardsmen came in and dragged him away from the courtyard, his heels lifeless on the ground, leaving twin mud tracks on his departure. Robb stared at him sweet, sad, and silent. A bolt of lightning flashed across the rainy skies, its reflection off the King’s sword blinding Olyvar. That was the last time he saw Robb alive.
When news of his King returning to the Twins for the wedding between Lord Edmure Tully and his sister Roslin, Olyvar could not contain his excitement, to hear the voice of his call.
Since that rainy courtyard day, Olyvar had been on his own for long enough. He hoped maybe Robb could show him again that dance that he loved. Maybe. Olyvar had been going through withdrawals. Not seeing his Grace was just too much. He could turn me on with the slightest touch. But since the Red Wedding, Olyvar’s courtyard has been cold and empty. Fuck anyone who judges me. He couldn’t see clearly now that Robb was forever gone. Olyvar was still blinded by Robb’s last light. He couldn’t sleep, still yearning for his touch. In his heart, rain constantly fell, drowning him in the nights. I was his squire, Olyvar cried as his soul twisted. And I failed him. I was the only one that night he could trust.
After the slaughter, Merrett Frey, a kin of his, greeted him as he released Olyvar from the dungeons. “I’m sorry Olyvar that we had to lock you up, Perwyn and Alesander too. But you must do your duty for your family. You are a Frey, a man of an honorable house. This stain left by Robb Stark and his bitch mother Catelyn Tully should not go unpunished. Lady Catelyn also killed Jinglebells. She even japed ‘a son for a son‘ to our Lord father as she slit his throat.”
A son for a son. Olyvar Frey looked at Merrett sullenly, his voice choking up, “I must go for a walk.” Olyvar walked and walked … passing the burnt tents, passing the dead soldiers with Northern and Riverland sigils sewn on their garments, and passing Grey Wind’s headless body. He was far enough from home, but he could still hear the cheap cheers of the Frey and Bolton soldiers.
He fell to his knees and began to cry. My king. My sweet king. Olyvar swore vengeance. Though he will never consider kinslaying as it was a curse among the gods, it would not stop him from facilitating others who seek revenge against his own family, the ones who were directly involved.
Suddenly at the side of the river, a dying man was crawling towards him. Soaked in water, mud and blood, he cried out in a ghastly voice “Olyvar!”
“Who, who are you?” Olyvar sprinted to aid and for recognition. “Raynald?” Without hesitation Olyvar replied, “My brother!” He placed himself under Raynald’s shoulder and lifted him up. “We need to find a maester.”
On the way back to camp, Olyvar and Raynald encountered two sentries of his Frey household guards, far from any other eyes can see.
“So what do you have here my Lord Olyvar?” one asked.
“A dying lone wolf? Let us put him out of his misery,” the other replied as they stared at Ser Raynald Westerling’s dampened seashell surcoat.
Olyvar lowered himself and laid Ser Raynald on the ground, and arose in a tone cold as stone. “No. Not a lone wolf.”
Olyvar unsheathed his sword and killed both Frey guards before they could reach their weapons. He then swapped Raynald’s wet Westerling clothing for one of the dead men, and found a maester.
Ser Raynald Westerling stayed with Olyvar at the Twins under disguise. He even trimmed off his brushy moustache. Weeks later after Ray had fully healed, he asked Olyvar to go with him to look for Maege Mormont and Galbart Glover at their secret hideout, as per the original plan before the wedding.
One night, Olyvar Frey simply walked out of the Twins again, this time with Ray. No one would care where Olyvar was going. Truth be told, his Frey family would be more content if more spawnlings of their lord father would leave the castle to find their own destiny, especially if they were unlikely heirs deep behind the line of succession.
Aboard one of the Northern galleys floating outside of Seagard, the Seashell Knight had to explain how this son of Walder Frey earned his trust, as Lady Mormont held Olyvar by the throat with a dagger. The skin around her eyes had been raked and blackened with tears and nails, her teeth bit with furious anger. She had been like this for weeks. Olyvar stared at her face and he felt like he could die here and now, if that was what it meant for Lady Mormont to forgive him, as he knows no gold would ever substitute for her grief. “I am sorry about your daughter Dacey. I lost my brother too. Benfred was a good man, I swear to you by all the gods old and new, that he did not have a part in the slaughter. Benfred would have done everything he could to grab an innocent woman like Dacey, and bring her safe from harm.” Olyvar meant it.
Mormont sheathed her dagger, her hands still shaking. “I’ll kill them all! Anyone who was a part of this!”
“No.” Olyvar replied. “We have to get the girls back. And then you can kill them all.”
At the siege of Riverrun, Olyvar Frey freely roamed Ryman’s uncoordinated camp. No one cared. One night alone, he swam across the moat and climbed up the castle with spikes. Only thirty feet up, the Tully guards had heard him clanking and aimed their crossbows from above. “Identify yourself!”
He whispered, “I am Olyvar Frey, son of Walder Frey, former squire to his King, Robb Stark. I come unarmed and offer myself as a hostage. I know the Blackfish, please let him know I am here.”
“Stay where you are.”
Olyvar clung to the castle’s wall half way down to death and half way up to forgiveness. Finally Ser Brynden Tully appeared and told Olyvar to come up quietly. As Olyvar threw himself over the parapet and onto the floor, the Blackfish kicked away his spikes and immediately kneed his body to the ground, holding a dagger at his throat. Shit, not again! Damn this mayhaps, why was I unblessed to be born a Frey?
“What are you doing here, Olyvar Frey?” Ser Tully demanded.
Olyvar told them the truth and handed him Lady Maege’s letter from a waterproof compartment in his garment. The letter was coded with secret words that he and she only knew. The Blackfish cracked the seal, unrolled the parchment and read. Afterwards he released the grip from the bottom and the message curled up on its own, eager to protect the secrets.
“The paper curls, at least you didn’t try to deceive me with the age of the parchment.” He then asked Olyvar, “So, you killed some of your own men did you?”
“To save Ser Westerling, yes.” The Blackfish looked at his eyes and nodded in approval. “May I see her now?” Olyvar inquired.
The Tully guards led Olyvar to her room. Some left the area, but others stayed and watched, still suspicious of the unarmed Frey. She was in her solar, knitting her needle works. He fell down to one knee towards his niece-in-law (by Olyvar’s brother-in-law, Lord Edmure Tully), “My Queen.”
“Olyvar!” Without a hint of hesitation or mistrust, she dropped her needle, ran towards him, and wrapped her loose skinny arms strongly under his’. She poured her heart, soul and grief-filled life into a Rose By the name of Olyvar Frey. He reciprocated, placing his arms around her shoulders as Jeyne Westerling-Stark continued to hold tight. Her orange sized breasts pushed against his chest, as the Queen’s chestnut mop of brown hair sat below Olyvar’s clean-shaven chin.
“Robb.” It was all she needed to say as they shared a sob. Nothing hurt more than that moment when he shared the same pain with Jeyne. Olyvar dipped his head to hers, their salty tears finally uniting and slowly dancing together as their faces pressed cheek to cheek.
“He is in the heavens now, I believe, singing from above.” Olyvar prayed. “He will be waiting for us. No doubt we will see him again some day, but we must make him wait.”
“I miss him so much,” Jeyne cried. She was always cheerful with Olyvar since they first met. Though he was curious whether she truly loved Robb or just wanted to be a queen, she has repeatedly been kind to him, so sweet. She never intervened when Robb trained Olyvar at swordplay and he was grateful for that. When they wed, Olyvar knew Robb could never be his brother, but Jeyne did not seem to mind letting him continue to squire beside her much younger brother, Rollam Westerling. Robb had allowed Olyvar to protect the queen sometimes, along with the other household guards, though he was still training at arms. Olyvar and Jeyne would talk constantly, mostly about their King. Even when Jeyne rambles about him, she would always shy away from talking about Robb’s bed manners. But Olyvar insisted he did not mind hearing it. Jeyne felt like a sister to him, just as much or more as Roslin.
“I miss him too,” Olyvar replied. “Did you really love him?”
She cried a little bit louder and squeezed Olyvar even harder. “With all my heart.”
Olyvar wanted to confess too, but he could not do it here, not with everyone watching. He only hoped Jeyne would ask him the same, and she did. “Did you really love him, Olyvar?”
He tightened his grip on Jeyne’s shoulders. “More than you ever know.”
She gently reached for his hands and lowered them. “Olyvar, you were his squire. He is gone now. But you still have a duty to us. You must protect us. We must never separate again. Promise me Olyvar. Promise me.”
“No. I cannot. Not yet. I must leave you, just this one last time, for your safety and your family’s.”
“You are part of my family,” the Queen proclaimed. Tears rolled down again, their hands still held together at their hips.
“I need to leave Riverrun tonight. And I promise you, we will reunite again and I will keep you safe.”
They talked for hours about the good times, the horror, and what the future lies. They talked about Robb, crying to the sadness of him, exulting at his bravery and his glories, laughing at the silly juvenile things the teenager king did to entertain them, and about falling in love with him all over again. And then they cried some more.
Later on that night, Ser Brynden visited Jeyne and Olyvar, with Lady Eleyna and Lady Sybell watching. “Olyvar, you were the King’s squire and though he is no longer with us, you are still owed a knighthood. Let the gods curse me if I ever knighted a Frey, but you are no Frey I have ever known. What you are about to do would be considered treason to your family.”
“But my lord father was treasonous to my King. I do not get to choose my father or which family I was born into. But here right now, is the family I want to be with.”
“Will you honor your new family? Will you honor your duty to your late King, his Queen and his House, the Starks of Winterfell?”
“I do,” Olyvar replied with pride.
The Blackfish unsheathed his sword, the blade alive with moonlight gleaming from the window balcony. “Shit I think I’m doing this wrong. I was supposed to say that later. Anyways, kneel Olyvar Frey.”
Olyvar got to one knee as Queen Stark and all the others watched. Ser Brynden Tully, the legendary warrior Blackfish, placed the flat of his sword on Olyvar’s shoulder.
“I charge you to be brave and … aww shit the knighting words escape me. I’m embarrassing myself. Anyways um. Family! Honor! Duty!” He placed the blade on the other shoulder. “Shit, I forgot the rest of the speech. Forgive me. But Olyvar of House Frey, I name you a knight! Now rise!”
And arose the new knight stood, and proud he was. King Robb Stark could have never fulfilled his promise of a knighthood, but it was his father that took it away from him. But being knighted by the Blackfish was more than anything Olyvar wanted right now, besides keeping Queen Jeyne and his family safe. To him, it was forgiveness.
The Queen approached him with a longsword in scabbard, flat on both hands. “Our late King had a gift for you Ser Olyvar Frey, at least he would have wanted you to have it.”
Before Ser Olyvar received it, he already knew what it was. Robb’s sword. “No, I cannot. I am unworthy of this gift, his Grace’s sword.”
“This is King Robb Stark’s sword, and I am his Queen wife. I charge you to protect your family with his own sword.”
Queen Jeyne Stark made an offer that Ser Olyvar cannot refuse. He took the sword from her forgiving hands.
“What will you call it?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“A name. Robb never named his sword. But a good sword should have a good name.”
“I was told by my half-brothers that only cun–, I mean only women name their swords. I will let you name it, my Grace. How should we honor our late King Robb Stark?”
“It is honor,” Jeyne replied.
Confused, Olyvar asked, “What is honor?”
“A sword. This sword.”
Before the sun had dawned, Ser Olyvar Frey with Honor slung on his back, climbed down the castle walls with rope, swam under the moat again, and departed the birthplace of his King, Robb Stark, as a knight.
He returned to the Twins, keeping his knighthood a secret. When Riverrun had fallen to Ser Jaime Lannister, Edmure Tully had agreed to be a prisoner at Casterly Rock. Roslin Tully volunteered to join her husband, giving them a chance to raise a family together, even as hostages. Olyvar, their brother Perwyn and half-nephew Alesander all agreed to escort Lady Tully to the Westerlands. Although they told their half-family they would take the land-route for their journey; Olyvar, Perwyn, Alesander and Roslin had a different Frey destiny in mind. After the Kingslayer’s threat to Roslin’s unborn child, there was no day they would ever stay at Casterly Rock nor return to the Twins. They departed for the coast and reunited with Ser Brynden Tully, Lady Maege Mormont and Lord Galbart Glover aboard the Motherfunker.
Before Ser Brynden escaped Riverrun alone, he and Lord Tully reviewed all their options during Edmure’s short visit. An escape on land had many risks to be recaptured or killed, but at sea it was far fewer … and having a faster ship helped. They would allow Edmure and Jeyne to be peacefully escorted by their captors to Casterly Rock as hostages, only to be rescued from the shoreline. Lady Sybell Spicer swore her brother Ser Rolph would lead the way inside the caves. “Honor, not honors,” were House Westerling’s words. And Robb Stark showed more honor to Lady Sybell’s family than any of the other Westermen could. King Robb made her daughter a Queen, while King Tommen gifted Ser Rolph with the cursed ruins of Castamere from the notorious Lannister song. This honor was more of an insult than a reward.
One night aboard the Motherfunker, Olyvar took out a fresh new flat parchment to write a letter that was meant for his father. He held his feathered quill upright, but did not know how to start. He was fidgeting as he stared up around his cabin. He began to tap the pointy end of the quill and pricked his other hand by chance. Frey blood began to trickle from the wound along with a stinging pain. Cashing in on the moment, he then knew what to say. He dipped the blood smeared quill into the black inkpot, and began to pour his soul & anger onto the kin he no longer wanted.
Father, I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that is real. The needle tears a hole. This old familiar family sting. I try to forget it all the way. But I remember everything. I find myself asking … “What have I become? My sweetest King? Will everyone I love go away in the end?” And Father, you can have it all. My empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make it hurt. If I could start again, many miles back at home that night. To save my King, I would sacrifice myself. I would find a way. Your son Olyvar.
He rolled the parchment and laid a tablespoon of wax from his tallow candle at the edge. Olyvar pressed the button with his bleeding thumb, filling the stamp in a marble of white, red and pink; sealing it with his own blood. He placed the rolled parchment in his breast pocket, hoping to leave it somewhere in Casterly Rock and eventually reaching his father’s hands.
On the deck of the Motherfunker a few nights before … crewmen, Riverlands and Northern loyalists sang, drank, and cheered to the music of the masterplan. Though most wanted to spill blood to avenge the Red Wedding, humiliating their enemies would be the sweeter revenge: the story that sings in songs. But not all were there for vengeance. Some were just there for the adventure.
The Captain of the Motherfunker was there for the honor of joining their song. He wanted to look into the eyes of the lion, be a part of the thrill of the fight, rising up against our rivals. He also owed Ser Rolph Spicer a favor from their long smuggling history together at sea. If he helped rescue his niece Jeyne from the rocky castle, he would consider the debt paid, and the Black Sparrow was happy to oblige.
“So we are here to rescue this princess? No?” Samullu spoke in the broken Common Tongue
“No, not a princess, she is a queen,” Olyvar chatted.
“In the Summer Isles, a princess and a widowed queen is the same person. My father was king, but he died when I was a babe. My princess mother was the one who raised me after my uncle took the throne. I loved my mother. I named my swanship for her after she died a few years ago.”
“Motherfunker?” Olyvar asked. “What is a funker?”
“Where I am from, fighting and dancing is called the same thing. We call it funk. We funk to fight, we funk to dance, and we also funk to love. And the skill of our funk we always inherit from our mother’s side. I got it from my mama.” The black single-eyed captain pleaded. “Yo got yo from yo mama too. ‘Motherfunker’ is just a homage to one’s mother for giving us this art of our body’s motions.”
Olyvar never knew his mother, but he was very intrigued to hear more about Samullu’s and their culture. They chatted for quite a while.
Olyvar thanked him for helping them. But Samullu insisted it was the right thing to do after hearing about the horrors of the Red Wedding. “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers! And yo will know I am the Captain when I lay my vengeance upon thee!”
Olyvar never knew the Black Sparrow was so pious to the gods of avengers.
Sharing rum together, Olyvar sung to him about his own story in depth. Captain Black Sparrow was impressed about his journey so far and he gave Olyvar a small jar of dirt. “This is soil from my empire back in the Summer Isle. I have a whole barrel of it to remind me of home. Here, take this other small gift as well.” He then took out a bird’s feather, long as a flute, bright and colorful. “We Summer Isle people have feathered cloaks, yo see it on all of us. But feathers like this one were meant for some of the bravest and baddest motherfunkers out there. I want yo to take it Ser Olyvar. Let it be yo warrior’s funk.”
Olyvar took it with his hand and gave it a warm stare. The feather was colored like a fading rainbow top to bottom, but the stem was yellow like a lemon. “Thank you.” The gifts were quite odd. By value it was not much, but it seemed like it meant a lot to the exiled prince, the type of gifts worth remembering.
“So what do yo need besides a miracle?” Samullu asked.
“Weapons. Bows and arrows. Lots of arrows.” Olyvar was serious.
“Aye, and I have a lot. Yo know, no one has ever done anything like what yo and the Blackfish’s men are about to do.”
“And that is why it will work.”
The plan was to allow Lord Edmure Tully and Queen Jeyne Stark to safely travel to Casterly Rock unmolested, under the command of Ser Forley Prester and his four hundred men. Lord Gawen Westerling and his son Rollam were to return to the Crag, but Lady Sybell was to stay with Jeyne, maintaining what deceptions she can conjure. Her bluff with Ser Jaime Lannister worked, earning the slightest trust from them before their escape at Casterly Rock. An attempt to rescue them on their path down the River Road would invite the Lannisters to execute the hostages on the spot, failing the objective’s purpose. To stealthily hunt down each soldier one by one would have proven even then, a mission of the impossible. Stirring fear in the hearts of the Lannister soldiers was the only solution, the effective psychological weapon. Ser Prester’s men have been haunted by the ghosts of the Brotherhood without Banners throughout the Riverlands, and the Blackfish would use that to his advantage. With the help of their fastest horse, Bubbles, mounted by Justin Smallister, a distant cousin to House Mallister of Seagard, he would tie empty nooses on trees ahead of Ser Forley’s route. The hope of the hoax would keep the Lannisters on edge, making it difficult to rest. Only when they reached the castle of Casterly Rock, they would drop their guards down, thinking the hard part was over. But on the exact evenfall on the day of their arrival, Lord Gawen Westerling and our small land forces, hidden in the eastern woods outside, would sound the trumpets and drums, drawing the weary soldiers to arms again. But the Blackfish was to infiltrate Casterly Rock from the western sea. Ser Rolph Spicer, our secret agent inside, will bond with Jeyne’s guards, drinking with them throughout their journey. Only on the hour of the escape, Ser Spicer would drug the guards’ ale, allowing them to fall asleep during the diversionary music. The Blackfish and his squad would provide armed escort, if needed. Ser Spicer would also help them navigate inside the caves, rescuing his niece Jeyne and their family back to the Motherfunker. By then, it would be too dark for the Lannisters to give chase into the ocean, if they even realized Queen Stark had flown off.
“I need twenty good men,” the Blackfish had demanded. A few hundreds of the remaining Stark loyalists and outlaws gathered at the docks, where the Motherfunker was anchored.
“And one more woman too!” the She-Bear crone proclaimed.
The men laughed in agreement as Ser Brynden continued. “I need volunteers only. Soldiers who want this fate to fuck them from behind in their arses! For the twenty one of us, we will be in harm’s way, make no mistake about it. I do not expect us to be discovered, but if we were, our escape will not be easy like our brothers working the diversion in the woods. I need men quick on their feet, proficient with the bow, and skilled at close-quarter hand-to-hand combat. Who are my brave men that will be knocking on the Lannister’s doors?”
Ser Olyvar Frey thundered in first and raised his hand. Jeyne’s words echoed in his thoughts, Promise me Olyvar, promise me.
Alesander Frey surprised him. “No you fool! You are not a skilled fighter. Put your hand down!” Olyvar told his nephew.
“I am a grown man, and I will not miss this adventure for nothing,” Alesander protested to his uncle.
“You are just a singer.”
“Then I want to be a witness to this great deed and be the first singer of our new song.”
Olyvar could not stop his brother & nephew from doing something so stupid.
Ser Raynald Westerling the Seashell Knight raised his hand too, eager to save his sisters Jeyne and Eleyna, and his mother Sybell.
Others began to join. Some had their reasons, some had their vengeance, some just wanted to try something new.
Fess stepped up. He was a long lost uncle to Ser Addam Marbrand after a lengthy voyage at sea. But Ser Addam refused to believe him, denying him a small chunk of land near Ashemark that Fess was entitled to own. He called his uncle an imposter and casted him out of the region. Fess swore he was a Marbrand, and swore he would unleash a storm on their household if they did not give his piece of land back. To the future of reclaiming his name by shaming theirs, Fess Marbrand was recruited into our efforts against the Lannisters and their bannermen.
The Summer Islander, Ben, and his Westerosi-born son, Benjen, were farmers from the Neck. Years ago, Lord Rickard Stark had welcomed the immigrant and his wife, granting them farm lands to flourish in. They grew rice in the marsh and exported it from White Harbor. They were so grateful to House Stark that they quite frankly named their son “Benjen” for Lord Stark’s youngest child of similar age. Since then, their hard earned work with their rough black hands in the cold had paid off in prosperity. After being widowed, Ben and his son ran the farm, just the two of them … until a few Ironborn men took Moat Cailin and all their harvest this past year. Their will and pride refused to let them take it again. So instead of growing new rice, they let it wither away and left the land … trapping the jaws of the Ironborn to hunger. Now Ben and Benjen were reborn into Ser Brynden’s band, for the honor of House Stark. “With great honor comes a great ass whooping!” Ben had declared.
Jess and Jory were two brothers that served House Westerling as guards at the Crag, personally protecting the Westerling sisters, Jeyne and Eleyna. They had watched them grow up since birth. Participating in their rescue was their duty, a duty they took without hesitation for the girls who were like nieces to them.
Phyl was a crewmate of royal blood on the Motherfunker. Back on another Summer Isle kingdom, his older king brother passed away as his young prince nephew took fresh rule. After Phyl forbade his nephew-king to order an attack on a rival neighboring island, he screamed at him, “You are not my father!” and flew out of the throne room, slamming its double doors. Soon after, the boy-king ordered for his uncle’s exile. Free like a bird, Phyl flew away himself to a ship with his friend, the Black Sparrow, looking for a new adventure.
Sam, June, and Rico were all hard loyal Tully soldiers that were ready to follow the Blackfish to the end of the world. Sam used to be a tall fat leviathan of a man, until one day June told Sam, “You never had the making of a first-class athlete like Rico here.” From then on, Sam, offended, lost several stones over the years as the three served patriotically together to House Tully. Now tall, lean and muscular, Sam was a force not to be reckoned with. They nicknamed him Sam the Shredder, but for shredding his fat as his body was now packed with muscular meat.
The hedge knight Ser Barnabus the Goose volunteered along with his new squire Leo, a boy of fourteen, whom he met that same day. Goose was a tall man, big shoulders, wide hips with greying blond hair. Though he grew up as an orphan, Ser Barnabus often boasted about being the grandson of some legendary tall hedge knight that he never chanced to meet. The other orphans used to laugh at him, calling him the Useless Goose. But ever since he suited up in his knightly armor decades ago, Ser Barnabus assured he was a useful Goose helping the small folks around the Riverlands. Olyvar wondered if Barnabus was his real name, or if he was even a knight.
Leo’s older brothers wanted to join the action as well … so Mikkal, Raff, and Donal stepped forward. Their uncle Scrooge, a man in his fifties, will chip in his services too. The four brothers and uncle were known as the Pissa family. They once owned a tavern serving their mother’s recipe of baked thin crispy bread, spun circular into a flat pie, served with tomato sauce and cheese above. Their uncle Scrooge improved his sister’s recipe by adding sliced duck sausages on top of the cheese, and charging customers extra for the option. Olyvar and the men on the Motherfunker had sampled and enjoyed the cuisine they baked aboard. Captain Samullu claimed that pissa was indeed a tasty dish, and suggested adding slices of pineapples on top of it too. The Pissa brothers gave Samullu Jaqenssen a cold stare as if the gesture was treason to the recipe. Back when they owned the tavern with their mother, the family often boasted about their food to the point where their competitors despised them. Their opponents would try to mimic cooking the same dish, but others would complain it tasted no different than bread. Afraid of losing their revenue, they insulted their mother’s crispy dish by calling it “pissa,” slandering it by saying it tasted like piss. But the brothers took the name their enemies gave them and wore it like armor, never allowing it to hurt them. Raff returned their insult by calling their adversary’s food being something that comes out of a cow’s bung hole. That humiliation stuck. For a while, men and women from all over the Riverlands continued to rallied in long lines to the Pissa tavern for a delicious slice of pissa. Sadly one day, the Mountain and his men came to destroy their tavern during the war, and took their mother. They never saw her again. Despite the sad drama, the Pissa family were a cheerful bunch, save for their pessimistic uncle. Olyvar could only hope they would find their mother safe and sound some day.
On the first day aboard the Motherfunker, Leo had never been on a ship his entire life. He bolted to the stern of the galley, stood on the middle rail with his arms spread out and screamed, “I’m the king of the world!”
Olyvar had to grab the blond teen down before he fell overboard. “Nice try Leo,” Olyvar said. “But you are too lowborn to be royalty. You are better off marrying a queen to be a king, or at least start with a princess.”
Ser Barnabus the Goose appeared and offered his help. He was in need of a squire for some reason, and Leo was quite eager. “Leo, I’m going to teach you how to live.” Goose swung his arm around the teenager’s neck and rested it there. “You want to be a king and win the ladies? Learn how to squire for a knight first. Unchain and fetch me my stallion from the docks, I’ll show you a trick. I’ll show you how to ride it on this rocking ship!” Leo did as he was ordered.
“And when will I ever need that skill?” Leo questioned as he brought the horse up to the deck from the ramp.
“What was it you were looking for again on this journey? Your destiny? Your death?” Goose mounted.
“Naked princesses,” Leo said.
“Well this move would make any maiden, royal or lowborn, shed their clothes off for you.” The knight pulled down the reins as the stallion stood tall on its two hind legs, looking like a work of art meant for eternal statues of the gods.
Samullu appeared and asked Leo, “Is that Goose on a horse? On my boat? Why is Goose on a horse on my boat?!” The stallion came down, hooves thundering the top of the deck.
“Aye Captain, Ser Goose was teaching me how to pick up women.”
“Shiitt Leo, that’s all you had to say.” Samullu wrapped his right arm around the neck of the youth and offered his counsel, his left hand danced in the air as he spoke to solidify his argument. “If yo want naked women, fuck land. Don’t be a knight. Be a captain of a galley. The best pick up line to catch any woman yo can, is ‘I own a ship’.” Samullu raised his bearded chin. “After this mission is over, come with me and we’ll sail the seas. Meet women from all over the world. And they love a captain. Do yo concur? Leo, each lady is just a flower, another rose by another name that smell just as sweet, waiting to be plucked.”
Goose winced at the word and protested. “The only maids you meet sailing seas are mermaids. Don’t be fooled by the Black Sparrow. Some of them may be pretty on the top half, but you won’t like what they got below. It probably stinks down there too. But the captain doesn’t mind, he seems to enjoy bedding mermaids!”
Whether sea, air or land … the Black Sparrow or Goose … Leo will probably have to fly with one of them after the mission, Olyvar thought.
The night before the rescue, the raiders and the crewmen drunkenly sang and cheered to music, rum, ale and pissa. Drowning in the glory of their task on the morrow, they reminisce about the harsh archery and lethal weapons training Lord Glover had given them over the past weeks back on land … while questioning how large Lady Mormont’s sacs truly were. Lady Roslin Tully, approached everyone and asked if they would write their names on the book she held. “It’s for the memories,” she said. They all did. A signature on each page for each man and Maege. Some drew their own personal coat of arms. When it was Olyvar’s turn, he hesitated about sketching the two towers. He wanted to separate himself from the murderous lore of House Frey. He decided to draw his towers, with a Stark wolf running on top of the bridge, and a Tully trout jumping below it. He signed his name, Ser Olyvar of House Frey, squire to the late King Robb Stark, knighted by Ser Brynden Tully.
He wondered if he will be written into history as a great knight some day. A knight that could not save his king, Olyvar thought sadly. He would not be the only one though. Word had travelled for Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, and his gallant assault at Dragonstone. He was gravely wounded, but no word on this brave knight’s final fate. Like Olyvar, Ser Loras had failed to protect his first King, Renly Baratheon, a man that the Knight of Flower was rumored to have truly loved. Though his King was gone, he continued to be bathe in the glory of battle. Despite being on the opposing side of the war, Ser Olyvar would be gay if he had the chance to meet Ser Loras, if he still lives, chatting with him about the kings they loved and lost.
Later on that night, Captain Samullu Jaqenssen shared a drunken game of cvyasse with Ser Barnabus for a golden dragon. When Goose doubled down after his first loss, he fell again, owing the Black Sparrow a pair of golden dragons by the end of it. When Samullu demanded Goose to pay up his reward immediately, Goose pretended not to understand his loose Summer Isle accent, giving him a wild chase.
“Wat?”
“Yo loose Goose, yo owe me the gold,” the Captain demanded in his queer Common Tongue.
“Wat?”
“The gold yo fool. The gold! Yo pay me.”
“Wat?”
“Wat country yo from?”
“Wat?”
“Do they not speak the Common Tongue in Wat?”
“Wat?”
“Common Tongue mother Goose!”
“Wat?”
“Say wat again! I dare yo, I double dare yo! I’ll throw yo overboard off the Motherfunker!”
Goose paused for a moment, until his pride could not resist. “Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat?” Goose said ‘what‘ so many times, it sounded like he was quacking, each one louder than before. “Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat? Wat?”
In a nick of fury, Samullu Jaqenssen flipped over the cyvasse table, stood up and drew his short blade. His remaining good eye raged like a storm, as steam seeped through the black leather patch of the other. “Yo cold ass honking Goose! Yo son o’ a whore! Yo bandit! I will gut yo from balls to brains to see what gooses is made of. I better find yo sacs golden before I take yo skull to gild gold! Either way, I will have my gold from yo!”
Goose suddenly comprehended everything, stood up with all his height and threatened. “Goodness gracious, do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Go ahead and try, but you will only find below me great balls of fire!” He grabbed his own crotch and pumped it once into the air. “And after your failed attempt, I will claw out your last remaining eye, leaving you blind for the rest of your sorry life!”
The others flocked towards the scene, holding the two back as they inched towards each other.
Jess tried to stop them. “Gods, have mercy!”
Sam the Shredder intervened as well. “That is enough! I want you two to stop!”
Jory said, “Cut it out!”
“Will yo shut up!” screamed Phyl, who had hustled a wager on the game.
Mikkal grabbed the drunken Goose, threw him to the floor, and told him to just beat it.
At the end, they all just laugh it off like all drunk men do. Smiling, spilling ale out of their cups, retching out into the sea the rum they drank, before drinking some more again. They were having one last good time before the mission. But today they had a job to do.
The twenty men, Lady Maege, and Ser Rolph continued up the paths in the lightless caves of Casterly Rock, huffing and puffing, but still silent as much as they could hold. One loud word at the wrong place at the wrong time may be their doom. In single file, the group followed Ser Spicer’s point with one lit torch. The stench was terrible and the dampness made it worse. Guarding the rear, Olyvar’s eyes were clouded in darkness at times where the torchlight was too far ahead to shine back. He relied on Ser Goose in front of him to lead the way, as Goose relied on Leo for the same.
[Part 3]

Mandatory English is not my first language, and TW: mention of miscarriage/abortion.
So,these last months have been honestly a shitshow, but this weekend I tried to take a last chance at reasoning with my now official JNMIL. Extremely long story short for context: We had been trying for a second child and I had 2 abortions in the last 8 months or so, the last one in April. I found out JNMIL was telling everyone about both of them. I felt so defeated; I was "happy" I had my peace the first time, thinking we only told our closest circle, but no, everyone knew through her... Found out about everything when lovely grandma sent me a letter to talk about my now two failed pregnancies (none of them informed by us)
When confronted (in a friendly way, I gave her a way out so she just had to say "sorry I won't do it anymore") she said it was not a big deal, lectured me on family dynamics aka we share everything, she didn't have enough good news so she couldn't shut up about my latest pregnancy, and now was practically doing us a favor by telling people it didn't work out. To finish her message she literally wrote "things are the way they are, we need to live with them". I was so mad I just ignored her and left the chat group we had with DH and her. A couple of weeks later she sent me a written letter that seemed like she had understood everything. I asked DH if he had done some coaching because it really had everything. A Genuine apology without "but...", an acknowledgement that she needs to back off, and think about what she says, etc. All in all 180° from her previous message. She also asked for forgiveness and "what did she had to do so we were good again". So I decided to talk to her and thank her and tell her that she is forgiven and I don't want to hold a grudge against her, but also make clear our relationship is damaged and I don't trust her anymore.
I didn't have to press her a lot, because 2 minutes into our videocall she made it clear she was only apologizing for the pregnancy announcement, but not for broadcasting my first abortion last year. Her reasoning is she planned to visit us back then, and I had DH cancel it because I was a mess and in no condition to host anyone, much less her. So she just decided to explain to everyone in the family that she was canceling her trip because I had an abortion and was struggling. "What should I have said? People knew I was excited about this trip!! How should I know I didn't have to tell anyone?" I still can't believe it honestly. After that, we ended up fighting back and forth about whether an abortion was a private and sensitive topic or not, after around 10 minutes I just cut it, said what I had to say, and left, she tried to guide the conversation towards how hard is it to be a MIL and how sad she is things are like that between us, and how all of this also affected her and she also needed to talk to others about it, I kept it cool and wrapped up our call as fast as I could and then went on to cry with DH and LO. DH is furious she couldn't shut up for once, and now he will have to deal with her crying because she can't come to visit anymore, and we won't be there for Christmas. Honestly, this gives me no satisfaction now. I tried everything to get along with this woman for years and tolerated so much, but she's just one of the most unempathetic and selfish people I have ever met. At least DH is on board this time and I hope this will be a success but I am not feeling it yet :/

Hello! I'm a 27M from South-East US, I am looking to meet cool people, hopefully make a great friend or two. Someone to text throughout the day, maybe play games or watch movies/shows, I am down for whatever!
I am nerdy, an ambivert, I love to play PC games, anything from rpgs/mmos to cozy crafters to survival or fps. I also enjoy game development, art, music, movies, cartoons (adventure time is my favorite!) and shows. I also love to get outside, go workout, enjoy a nice hike in nature, sports or just exploring around town.
I love music and finding new music, some of my favorite genres are indie, alt, rock, pop, punk, pop punk, rap, hip-hop, electro swing and more.
I take pride in my weird goofiness, I'm alt, 420 friendly. I love life and making new experiences. I am extremely open-minded, ambitious, optimistic, non-judgmental, caring, kind and love deep conversations.
My humor goes from stupid animal memes to dark humor to dumb brain-rot, I am always down to share memes.
If appearance matters to you, I am 6ft, light brown medium length hair, facial hair, nose piercing, hazel eyes
So, If you think we'd vibe shoot me a message, tell me a bit about yourself! I prefer you be around my age but at least be 21+ please.

Hello! I'm a 27M from South-East US, I am looking to meet cool people, hopefully make a great friend or two. Someone to text throughout the day, maybe play games or watch movies/shows, I am down for whatever!
I am nerdy, an ambivert, I love to play PC games, anything from rpgs/mmos to cozy crafters to survival or fps. I also enjoy game development, art, music, movies, cartoons (adventure time is my favorite!) and shows. I also love to get outside, go workout, enjoy a nice hike in nature, sports or just exploring around town.
I love music and finding new music, some of my favorite genres are indie, alt, rock, pop, punk, pop punk, rap, hip-hop, electro swing and more.
I take pride in my weird goofiness, I'm alt, 420 friendly. I love life and making new experiences. I am extremely open-minded, ambitious, optimistic, non-judgmental, caring, kind and love deep conversations.
My humor goes from stupid animal memes to dark humor to dumb brain-rot, I am always down to share memes.
If appearance matters to you, I am 6ft, light brown medium length hair, facial hair, nose piercing, hazel eyes
So, If you think we'd vibe shoot me a message, tell me a bit about yourself! I prefer you be around my age but at least be 21+ please.

Hello! I'm a 27M from South-East US, I am looking to meet cool people, hopefully make a great friend or two. Someone to text throughout the day, maybe play games or watch movies/shows, I am down for whatever!
I am nerdy, an ambivert, I love to play PC games, anything from rpgs/mmos to cozy crafters to survival or fps. I also enjoy game development, art, music, movies, cartoons (adventure time is my favorite!) and shows. I also love to get outside, go workout, enjoy a nice hike in nature, sports or just exploring around town.
I love music and finding new music, some of my favorite genres are indie, alt, rock, pop, punk, pop punk, rap, hip-hop, electro swing and more.
I take pride in my weird goofiness, I'm alt, 420 friendly. I love life and making new experiences. I am extremely open-minded, ambitious, optimistic, non-judgmental, caring, kind and love deep conversations.
My humor goes from stupid animal memes to dark humor to dumb brain-rot, I am always down to share memes.
If appearance matters to you, I am 6ft, light brown medium length hair, facial hair, nose piercing, hazel eyes
So, If you think we'd vibe shoot me a message, tell me a bit about yourself! I prefer you be around my age but at least be 21+ please.

Hello! I'm a 27M from South-East US, I am looking to meet cool people, hopefully make a great friend or two. Someone to text throughout the day, maybe play games or watch movies/shows, I am down for whatever!
I am nerdy, an ambivert, I love to play PC games, anything from rpgs/mmos to cozy crafters to survival or fps. I also enjoy game development, art, music, movies, cartoons (adventure time is my favorite!) and shows. I also love to get outside, go workout, enjoy a nice hike in nature, sports or just exploring around town.
I love music and finding new music, some of my favorite genres are indie, alt, rock, pop, punk, pop punk, rap, hip-hop, electro swing and more.
I take pride in my weird goofiness, I'm alt, 420 friendly. I love life and making new experiences. I am extremely open-minded, ambitious, optimistic, non-judgmental, caring, kind and love deep conversations.
My humor goes from stupid animal memes to dark humor to dumb brain-rot, I am always down to share memes.
If appearance matters to you, I am 6ft, light brown medium length hair, facial hair, nose piercing, hazel eyes
So, If you think we'd vibe shoot me a message, tell me a bit about yourself! I prefer you be around my age but at least be 21+ please.