Game of Thrones: A Tale of a Coward

Home - Luciara VI

Luciara promised to keep them all safe. He is no stranger to promises being broken, but this he knows must be one to be kept. They pass a few farms on their way south, to find King Robb, his cousin, and Lucia ponders on whether he should leave them behind. The old. The weary. The ones who cannot fight. They aren't particularly slowing the group down; they're all cowards. But they wouldn't be a great help for King Robb's battles.

The night came swift and all were tiring. Luciara need not hear complains, so he simply told them what they needed. The cowards reacted positively; the night, before Lucia had forced them to walk more, considering Robb would have made it quite far.

While all got their sleep, Lucia had a look for the closest farm. He spotted one not too far west of where the others were getting sleep. "Yeah. That'll be a good place for everyone. Home."

Luciara spent perhaps too much time staring at the farm; Rosemary approached him, "Looks nice over there. Maybe we ought to have gone there for rest."
"That little spot over there is doing just fine."
"What are you thinking? What are you planning?" she asks, curious.
"You know what I'm planning. Most of them can't fight, and if I put them in battle, they'll die first. And I can't risk you, you know that."
"No! You know I can fight-"
"Which is you have to stay here," Lucia interrupts. "Protect them. And I'll save Robb and the North."

Luciara recognised her fear. To fix that, he gave her sweet and gentle kiss on her cheek. The darkness hid their activity from the others, as did the tall and bulky oak tree. Each removed the other's clothing until there was nothing left to remove. Kisses given. Breasts stroked. Pleasure and climax ensues, and the two lie by the tree in ecstasy.

The morning arrived and Lucia took the group to the farm. He explained why they cannot continue and follow Luciara, but he asked for volunteers. As expected, Androw and Ser Duncan joined Lucia. A man in his fifties asked to accompany them, so did a woman who appeared in her forties. The others shied away from the opportunity, until Saulmund spoke up: "I'll help you. I have nothing left, except for Seramund. Everyone here is a stranger to me, but fighting... fighting is not strange. At times, fighting is the only natural thing there is. I will join you, in hope you find your happiness at the end."

Lucia accepts his request; the more people fighting, the better the outcome, surely. Seramund did not wish to leave her brother's side, so she begged to join the fight, too.

Lucia meets with the owner of the farm. The man had a son, seventeen years of age, and daughters, twelve and seven. His wife had died from some disease, a little over three years now. "I beg you, take my son. Allow him the honour and glory of war. Perhaps one day he shall be a knight, and then he returns to me, in shining armour," the man requests.
"I warn you, there is no honour or glory at the end of this. Only death and worse. Is that what your son wants?" Lucia asks.
"It's what I've always dreamed of, Ser," his son answers.
"I'm not a knight, I'm cousin to King Robb. Calling me a Lord will do nicely. Or just Lucia."
"Apologies, m'Lord. But I do want some fightin', if it please."
"Fine, fine. You'll accompany us."

After the farm owner had given the cowards some fresh food, Lucia informed they were due leave come sun rise. The only ones who had not been given a farewell were the twins; Lucia pitied them for this misfortune.

Rosemary was particularly distraught, and Luciara had no wish to leaver her side. However, it is what had to be done. Lucia remained strong for her. Kept a tough face. Showing no emotion. They all thanked him for saving their lives, and Lucia struggled to understand what exactly he had done for them.

"I'd be a fool not to name my child after you," Gill had told him.
"And I'd be very grateful for it. Thank you, Gill. You and Rosemary take care of each other."

Lucia wanted to leave as swift as the night had come the past few days. And in time, the sun had risen. And Luciara, Androw, Ser Duncan, the man and woman, Saulmund and Seramund and the farmer's son left them.

After some nights had passed, Lucia decided to open a barrel of strong wine they took with them. Once he took his first sip, he was instantly reminded of the bartender that had fallen in their battle against Saulmund and the Wildlings.

"What's one thing... that you regret right now?" said Androw. Luciara had millions of thoughts and memories crossing his mind once Androw had said that. He knew his final answer, however. But first, he allowed the others to have their say. To let them reflect on their lives and their memories first. Others now came before Luciara himself, he knows.

"I regret not joining Robb. I don't know if I'd have made a difference, but had I joined him and the other knights, perhaps my life could've been taken in place of another's. Now I see my failure," says Ser Duncan.

"I regret going south of the Wall," begins Saulmund. "North, some lives may have been saved if I hadn't taken everyone with us. I felt as if I had to go... me and Seramund... we had to go south. It felt right at first, but so many died doing so," he finished. Saulmund then took a sip of the wine. He appeared to have enjoyed the taste.

"I regret not telling father to stay. Maybe if I had told him to stay, he would've. And if he did, then me, Saulmund and the others wouldn't have had to go. And they wouldn't have died. And neither would have your people." She also takes a sip afterwards, like her brother.

"I regret letting you drink all those, Lucia. If I had just said, "no, Lucia. No. No more drinking," but I didn't. And if you hadn't been drinking all those times, perhaps we wouldn't be in this fucking mess to begin with. And yet, here we are," Lucia's best friend told him. Lucia had to agree with it, but thought that ought to be something Lucia regrets, not Androw.

"I regret coming here. I should've stayed with my family, instead of joining this party. Too much shit happening," the man in his fifties said.

"Lucia?" the woman asks.
"No, it's okay. You go."
"I don't really regret nothin'. I guess not spending enough time with my sister before she died is somethin' I'm not proud of," she confesses.

"I regret not being there for my dad when mother died. He was too broken, and I weren't really there for him," says the boy.

"I regret not killing Mirk," Lucia admits.