Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger's Story

The Northern Seas were cold.
Robyn was a Southern girl, and this cold was doing nothing but annoying her.
It didn’t help that she just recruited new crewmembers and they weren’t overly thrilled that the Crimson Lady was the actually captain of the ship and not the name of the ship. These blokes were idiots but she needed more men. She pulled her long coat around her some.

“Captain Sheva.”
She turned with an arched brow, one of the new recruits, he’d had a bit too much rum and that was never a good thing.
“What?” She said shortly.
“I challenge you,” that caused the whole damn ship to virtually freeze, eyes on her.
Robyn’s face held no expression. “ You’re drunk,” she said. He sniggered.
“No excuses, Woman, I challenge you, so either come down here and face me like the man you think you are,” He said and Robyn shook her head and slowed descend the stairs to the bottom deck. Her boots on the hardwood was the only thing audible as the crew, specifically the older crew, watched as the Crimson Lady approached the man.
He was a simple boatswain greatly underestimating who this woman was.
The Crimson Lady was easily the most feared pirate, she was a legend, most people did not even believe she existed by the rumors that spread about her. Some were true, most were not.
She was not a vampire, and she didn’t purposely bathe in blood...well, maybe she did, but she didn’t drink it.

“I don’t believe myself a man, I know exactly who I am, the problem is, you don't..” She said, she tone was eerily calm as she approached the boatswain, his face red from the rum that gave him the courage to challenge her. “Does anyone second this man’s challenge, despite the fact that this man is clearly drunk off his head?” she called and no one seconded. “Seems you’re on your own, Lad.” She said and was about to turn when his hand reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. “Don’t turn your back on me, Woman!” He groaned and Robyn without so much as a grimace, grabbed his arms and viciously turned his wrist against it’s proper setting, snapping the bone. The man crumbled to the ground, but Robyn wasn’t finished with him yet, as he went down, her knee came up and met his chin, with a sickening crack and he landed on his back, unconscious.
“Most of you have known me since I was merely a boatswain, you know me, you know the way the ship works, for those that are new, if you wish to take my place as Captain, you can formally challenge me, but understand this.” She said and her eyes found each of the men that watched her. “Acts of disrespect...such as this here...will not be tolerated.” She said and soon her first mate was at her side, A tall fair haired man with bright blue eyes. “Mr. Casey, take him to the brig, we will deal with him properly when he is conscious.” She said and looked at the crew once more. “I don’t ask for much, just respect, if you can do that for me, I can give you the same in return.” She said and that was all. The crew men didn’t really know what to make of this but she knew they held a new respect for her. She could have killed the man, knowing her reputation, they all expected this, but he was drunk and they all knew it. Killing him, would do nothing but make them fear and distrust her, which would lead to an inevitable munity, that will not do. She worked too damn hard to earn this position.
It was then a bird flew over the ship and landed on the bow, just ahead of her. Robyn frowned as she approached it. She reached over and pulled the message from it’s leg.

”Captian Robyn Sheva,
You’re reputation has greatly interested me and I would greatly appreciate an audience with you to discuss an alliance with you.
I am located in my newest temple in Winterfell, I look forward to meeting you,
Priestess Melissande.”
Robyn frown, this message was very vague and Winterfell? She had a contact in Winterfell that would not like her being there. Robyn rolled her eyes at the thought. He’d be a problem depending on what this Priestess wanted.
“Mr. Casey, head North, We have business in the North.” She said and Mr. Casey relied the message.
Robyn had the feeling a storm was brewing...and she’d been smack in the middle of it.

It wasn’t long before The Harbinger reached the shores of the North. It was cold and smelled like fire. She’d been to the North plenty of times before, she had a contact here and the deal was, he wouldn’t try to kill her if she didn’t do any harm to Northerners.
She told them then, she wouldn’t make any promises.
For now those, she was curious, The North seemed to be up in flames and a new flag was flying, a burning heart. This must be a woman, she thought as the gangplank was lower and she stepped off the ship. She was dressed in full battle regalia, her long coat billowing around her legs, that were covered with slack that were neatly tucked into long black boots, a crimson red corset around her slim waist, a cotton bell sleeved top hugging her bosom, a large belt hung around her waist, that held her flintlock and cutlass and top her head a large tri cornered hat, black with red stitching that matched her coat and boots.
The Crimson Lady had entered the North.
At her side was her first mate, William Casey, a fair haired giant, to whom towered over her by atleast a foot, the Captain herself was about 6 feet herself.
“Captain?” said Casey.
“Hm?”
“What are we doing here?” He asked and Robyn’s face was expressionless. “It seems I’ve piqued the interest of a conqueror by the name of Melissande. She wishes to speak to me.”
“She?”
“Indeed.”

Robyn made her way to the keep in Winterfell. She watched as soon to be slaves were ushered in by ropes and lined against a wall. They all looked terrified...all except one. She looked absolutely peeved. She was small this one, Robyn could see clear over the top of her head, midnight curls spun down her face, her skin was a warm olive, but it was her eyes that caught Robyn’s attention. Despite the fear in those amber orbs, there was a hint of defiance.Something that told Robyn that this girl was scared but she didn’t seemed to be ready to lay down and take it. Robyn chuckled to herself and walked on to meet this Melissande.

Lady Melisandre was in the study of her new seat of power, Winterfell. It was fitting, that the Lord of Light had instructed her to come and seize this place first. A haven for blasphemers and heresy yes, but a place that so valued the power of cold and snow. Both are the dominion of The Great Other, R'Hllor's greatest enemy. She had looked into the fire back in Asshai and seen all of this. She'd seen the Baratheon king, she'd seen his rise to power and his fall, she'd seen her winning his army from him after they had all knelt before her fire and sworn themselves to The Lord of Light. She'd seen her trip across the sea and she'd seen the fires raising over the grey keep of Winterfell. This is where it would all begin, the first of many fires.

A soft knock on the door pulled Melisandre's attention away from the fire and communion with her god.

"Lady Melisandre?"

Came a voice of one of the many who served her.

"Yes? What is it?"

She asked as the young knight stepped inside the room. He bowed respectfully before speaking again.

"The Crimson Lady is here, My Lady."

Melisandre smiled, that sultry, wicked smile of hers. The Crimson Lady, her reputation was known far and wide. She'd seen her in the fire, this Captain Sheva garbed in red not so unlike Melisandre herself. She knew Captain Robyn Sheva would have a part to play in the coming conflict, what part was yet unclear but the best way to assess her role would be to speak with her herself.

"Bring her to me."

The Crimson Lady was ushered into large room where a woman stood before a large fire, the entire room given an amber glow.

She was introduced grandly and Robyn stood there, looking at the red haired woman who hadn't turned to her yet. "So, You called, I came." She said, there was something sinster about this woman. Not so unlike herself in that way, but the magic was thick in the air around her. It was enough to turn Robyn's stomach.

"Thank you for meeting me, Captain Sheva. Drink?" said the red woman gesturing to the table beside two chairs and Robyn was already bored. "Yes, Quite welcome, are we going to be drinking tea or do you have a proposition for me?" Robyn asked impatiently, she didn't ignore the drink but she couldn't trust it so she didn't drink it. The Red Priestess turned to her then, she wasn't much older then her by the looks of her, and the look in her green eyes told Robyn, her blood lust rivaled that of her own.
"If you like we can get to the point." She said and she walked up to Robyn and offered her a seat in one of the two that framed the fire. "I must admit, I did not believe you to be real." She said and Robyn shrugged. "I try." Lady Melissande smiled. "It wasn't until I saw you, in the fires, and I just had to meet the Crimson Lady. A woman who struck fear in to the very hearts of men" She said and seemed genuinely impressed but Robyn's face was held an expression of both annoyance and intrigue, she pressed her lips into a fine line. " You didn't bring me here to sing my praises, Lady Melissande, so what is it that you want." She said impatiently. "You're help, Actually." She said finally getting to it. "My men will be very busy here, with the heretics, and we haven't the resources to man both land and sea."
Robyn's interest was piqued.
"I'm listening."
"I'd like for you, the Crimson Lady, to assist me in that area, keep the Northmen in and everyone out." She said and Robyn nodded. "And in return?" Money was everything...she was a pirate.

"You shall have safe port in the North, your weight in gold, plus a purse for each of your men." She said and Robyn's brow rose.
"You really want my help, don't you?" She said with a chuckle and Lady Melissande grinned. "Women like us, We know how to get our way." She said and Robyn couldn't help but agree.
"You have a deal." She said and Lady Melissande smiled.

"On one condition, I need a slave, I saw one of them today, a girl, no more the 17 winters, I do so grow tired of the constant presences of men." She and Melissande nodded. " She is yours, I'll have one of my men escort you." She said and Robyn stood and turned for the door.

"And Robyn...Please see to it that you don't betray me...I'd greatly like it if I didn't have to kill you."

Robyn merely chuckled. "Like you could."

And with that, Robyn was out the door.

Clara stood in line with the other slaves, most of them knew she wasn't one of them but most of them liked her and wouldn't want her dead so they kept her heritage to themselves. Not that she all but gave herself away by the way she looked the invaders in the eyes as they dragged her along, her calf burned with pain but her rage burned hotter. This was Jon's home, her own personal safe haven, and they defiled it with their presence. Luckily, no one really paid attention to the tiny angry girl.

All except one, the man from the woods. He eyed her like a hawk eying a mouse. Ready to pounce soon as the time was right.

Clara looked up to see a woman, clad in red and black, like something out of a penny dreadful, her eyes found her and Clara's very soul shivered. She didn't know who that woman was, and gods be good if she never found out.

Soon, the slaves were divvied up and Clara stood with a handful of girls. The men looked them over one by one, like their were choosing the best cattle. The man from the woods stopped on her. “This one is mine.” He said and grabbed her by the wrist. She held her ground. “Don't make this hard on yourself, girl.” He said and gripped harder on her and yanked her forward. If her calf didn't hurt so bad....

He then took her by the elbow and half dragged her to a tent a little ways away from the Keep just in front of the clearing in the woods. She knew what was coming, and she braced herself mentally.

He tossed her inside and she stumbled to the ground. He undid her bounds and for a moment, she thought he might let her go. She got to her feet, her eyes wide as she looked at the man.

“What?” She asked impatiently.
“I'm deciding..” He grinned and Clara's brow twitched into a worried frown but then it faced into an angry one. “I'll make it for you.” She said and darted forward, knocking into him, taking him by surprise but he managed to recover quickly enough that he snatched her back, forcing her to the ground. Her head spun from the impact. “See, I was actually going to be gentle, but you forced my hand.” He said and tore are her dress, splitting the material up her thigh. Clara slammed her hands down on his head but he ignored her battering and kept ripping the material, her shoulders were bare, her thighs were exposed but all she was worried about was keeping him from his goal. She fought and fought, kicked and squirming underneath him. At once, she threw her head forward, her forehead slamming into the bridge of his nose, shattering the bone. The man's head tipped backward and Clara clamored to her feet, gathered up the shreds of her clothing and ran out of the tent, she ran toward the forest, but stopped as an arrow zipped by her head. She froze. Did it hit her? She examined herself to find that now, she was not hit, so she turned, and saw the man an arrow stuck in his chest and it pinned him to a tree. Clara looked into the forest but saw nothing, not sign of life what's so ever. It couldn't have been meant for her. She approached the man, he was still alive. The arrow keeping him from bleeding out immediately. “Wh-what?” He stammered. “I'm deciding...” She said and her eyes darkening. She didn't like death, blood made her queasy but this man...he deserved this. She reached for the arrow. “Don't touch it!” He gasped. “I was going to leave it...” She said, her amber eyes finding his, glaring like the wolf her family praised. “But you forced my hand.” she said and pulled the arrow from the man's chest.

“You, girl.”She looked up to see the woman from before, her dark eyes alight with amusement. She'd seen the entire thing, Clara just knew it.“ You're coming with me.” She said and Clara stiffened. Something about this woman, froze her feet. “No.” She said. And the woman, sighed impatiently. “You want them to see that you killed one of their men, or do you wish to for me to tell them that you are highborn, so they can kill you like the others.” She said. Clara's heart kicked against her chest.“I'm not gonna hurt you, girl, I'm actually doing you quite the favor. I'm Captain, Robyn Sheva, What's your name?” she asked
“Clara...” She said and despite herself, Clara stepped forward. She knew she'd be safer with the Captain then she would be with the invaders. “I will be no one's body slave” Clara warned as she walked passed the woman, and the woman grinned, a wick wolfish sneer. It reminded her of someone. “Good, You'll be right at home. Clara”
Clara looked back, feeling eyes on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her...someone saved her. She clutched the arrow in her hands as the woman walked behind her.

Oliver lowered his bow after his arrow found it's mark. He didn't kill him, not right away. The arrow would stake him to the tree, he'd die slow and he'd die painfully. The only thing that would make it quick would be when someone found him, no doubt half frozen alive. When they pulled the arrow out he'd be dead before he hit the ground. A shot like that Oliver saved for only the worst, and this one was the first. He'd seen him grab the girl from the tree line, he'd watched as he dragged her to the tent. The second he'd laid eyes on the girl with the olive skin and hair of midnight curls he knew he'd have to save her. She was beautiful there was no doubt but it was the look in her eyes that first caught Oliver's attention. The look of rage, of fury, he knew the look well. He'd seen it on himself on more than one occasion, a feeling one only got when all their strength was taken away from them. Back on the island Oliver had never felt weaker, he was starving more than not. Fear was his constant companion and it made him angry. That anger got him through on days when nothing else could and the girl had that same look. She had everything taken away from her, she was made to be weak and she hated it. When that man grabbed her he had to act.

The shot was a long one, easily twice the distance any normal archer would attempt. Oliver Forrester was no normal archer. Yet something astounding happened after he'd pinned the man to the tree. The girl with the midnight curls turned on him, she spoke to him before she ripped the arrow out, allowing him to die at her feet. Oliver couldn't help but smile subtly under his hood, she was a strong one. It was then that someone stepped out from behind the tent that made Oliver's bow hand twitch. Captain Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger, she sauntered around the tent and spoke to the girl, a wolfish grin on her face. The girl clutched his arrow, looking ready to stab the infamous pirate captain and the arrow Oliver trained on her ensured that when it failed the captain wouldn't get a chance to retaliate. Yet to his surprise the girl seemed agree to whatever Sheva was asking of her and turned to walk off with her. Oliver lowered his bow but he couldn't take his eyes off the mysterious woman with the hair made of midnight curls. For a moment she turned and looked back, as if she was seeing him from all that distance away. Oliver froze under her gaze. When she turned and walked off with Captain Sheva Oliver finally allowed himself to breath.

Having the infamous Crimson Lady in The North, now was no coincidence. She must be working with the invaders, or at least she is about to be working with them. He had work to do and if he found out that Captain Sheva went back on their deal, she'd get a visit from The Arrow she would not soon forget.

Clara stood with the Captain as she addressed her crew.
”Pirates.” Clara shook her head at the thought. If invaders weren’t bad enough, she would be taken by pirates. Her eyes rose to the woman beside her. She was beautiful, tall and deadly. Under normal circumstances, Clara would have idolized this woman but right now, all she did was fear her.
“We have been hired to circle the North and keep anyone of leaving and anyone from entering.” She told to crew and they all seemed pretty excited. Clara’s jaw was set tight. They would be killing her people and she’d be powerless to stop them. On the way to the ship, she saw the other slaves, and countless bodies. One of them had been her sister, laying there, naked, covered in blood in heap with other used bodies. Clara’s eyes closed, forcing tears back. She would not cry in front of them though her biggest problem were the men looking at her as if she wear cooked meat, and they were starving. She hadn’t even been able to save goodbye. Gods, why was she so weak?! “This will give us safe port, as well as a great deal of money.” That got the men cheering and the Captain grinned and then turned to look at her. “This here, is Clara. She is mine, you touch her, you die.” She said and Clara blinked and looked at the Captain. There were hushed murmurs. Most seemed confused as to why the Captain wanted this girl. Clara wondered herself.
“Do I make myself clear?” She asked the group and they all murmured yes. The Captian eyed her crew before ushering Clara into her cabin.
Clara stood at the door, what was left of her dress, tied around her as best as it could be, yet she still held it at her chest, her fingers finding the necklace she hadn’t known she was wearing. It was a wooden wolf totem, hanging on a chain. Jon had given it to her when she was small. She remembered the day. She’d been so upset that she couldn’t stay with him. Tears streaming down her face but they stopped immediately when Jon had presented it to her. The white wooden wolf with deep crimson eyes, just like Ghost. A constant reminder that Jon was with her, no matter what.
”Jon, The tears threatened again but she pushed them back. Jon...he was gone too. They said the royal family had been slain, taken completely by surprise. Her heart kicked against her chest as she clutched the necklace.
“Come, sit.” Said the Piratess. Clara looked up and saw her gesturing at a bed. Clara stiffened. “No.” She said sternly and the Captian glared at her. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.” She said and Clara huffed and walked over. She knee she was pressing her luck but she was too grief stricken to care and if she didn’t cry it out, she’d fight it out. She still had the arrow in her hand and she was prepared to use it. Jon couldn’t save her and whoever saved her before, was probably long gone now. She was alone. She sat on the cot and the pirates grabbed her leg causing Clara to wince and recoil. “It’s going to get infected if you don’t let me clean it.” She said and Clara was genuinely surprised. She said nothing as the Captain set to cleaning and then stitching her wound. “Did he hurt you?”
Clara blinked “I’m sorry?”
“The red solider, did he hurt you?” she asked again and Clara looked down at herself and understood the question. “Oh...no...I didn’t let him” She said, bitterness a vemon in her words. The pirate, to her surprise, grinned. “Well done.” She said and wrapped a bandage around her leg. “Why are you helping me?” She asked finally and the pirate looked at her for a long time. Something played behind her eyes before it was gone again. “You’re mine, that’s why.” She said and Clara swallowed. “What do you plan to do with me?” She asked nervously and it was the Captain’s turn to blink. “ What?”
“You said I was yours...do you mean to...”
“Pfft...I could have any man I wanted...so no.” She said with a snort and stood up. “ You’ll be cooking for me, cleaning, men are useless in those things.” She said and Clara nodded solemnly. “What about the men...did you mean what you said, you won’t let them hurt me?” Clara asked and then there was a softness in her eyes that made Clara feel oddly...safe. “Yes, I will not let them hurt you. In the kitchen behind the back wall is a room, only I and my first mate knows where it is, you’ll be sleeping in there.” She told her and Clara nodded. She knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet but she did feel a bit better.That faded quickly. “ What if they don’t listen...What if they-“
“Scream.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Scream, all you have to do is scream, They’ll be dead before you know it.” She said and Clara watched the piratess stand up, she loomed over her like a goddess, looked down at her and Clara felt small. “You’re going to kill my countrymen, aren’t you.” She asked her and the Captain chuckled, as if amused by the question. “ Provided they don’t try to leave, if they do, then yes.” She said and Clara swallowed, clutching the arrow. The Captain took noticed and her cool gaze fell into a hard cold one.
“Where did you get that arrow?”
“You didn’t see..?” Clara asked, genuinely confused.
The Captain cocked her head.
“It was in the man that tried to...it hit him.” She said and the Captain groaned impatiently. “ Bloody hell...”she spat and walked toward the door. “Lock this behind me.” She said and Clara did as she was told when the Captain left. She then looked back at the Captain’s quarters, took a seat back on the cot and her fingers brushed against the feathers at the end of the arrow. She sighed heavily.
What now?

Robyn found Casey quickly. “We have a problem.” She said to him and Casey frowned. “What sort of problem, Captain?”
“The green kind.”
Casey rubbed his hands down his face. “You think he knows.”
“If he doesn’t already, he will soon enough.”
“You think you can take him,”
“Of course I do but with the girl here, I can’t afford the fire fight.”
Casey looked at her then. Casey was her oldest friend, and possibly the only person in the world she trusted. He knew something was up. “Yes, About that girl?” He asked and Robyn stopped him there. “Don’t.”
“I won’t but you know what I’m going to say?”
Robyn glared daggers at him and he raised his hands defensively. She knew it was risky but her Captain took the same risk with her. “I didn’t shoot her.” She said in her defensive and Casey could only smirk. “What should we do?”
“Prepare, He’ll find us eventually.”

The fire crackled deep within the heart of Winterfell. The harsh cold of the Northern wind was but an unpleasant thought within the warmth of the grey keep. The bed chambers that had once belonged to a king now belonged to a priestess. She sat staring into the fire, as she so often did seeing visions of what her god chose to show her. She had seen the escape of the youngest prince yet had told no one. She wanted to see what part this boy would have to play in the coming events, he had a kings blood after all and kings blood held power. She saw the resistance rise up against her, led in the field by another boy thinking himself a conqueror. He didn't have the light the prince had and Melisandre found him rather unremarkable. What was remarkable to her was her pirate captain, The Crimson Lady.

She had heard the reports of how Sheva had knifed a man who'd thought to steal her slave from her. The fire showed her the truth. Robyn had merely discovered the body. She had spirited the girl away to her ship and was keeping her quite safe. There was a surprising amount of tenderness to the fearsome pirate captain when she was around the girl who was something of a mystery. She watched as the girl cooked, and cleaned and even laughed on good days. Yet the sadness was always there, always lingering in the dark like hungry eyes in the night. She watched as the girl navigated the dangers of a pirate ship, her only solace was a tiny necklace she constantly was clutching or an arrow.

That arrow intrigued Melisandre the most. It was the one pulled from the body of the solider it had killed, the one that had thought to force himself on the girl. It had come from the darkness but even the fire did not show her who fired it. No, her first look was a blurry one at best later in the night as he crept back into the city like a wraith and killed four men with captivating skill and ease. The man whose legend had reached her ears shortly after the murders. The Arrow, sometimes called The Hood was a fable, a story the common folk told each other. A benevolent avenger, a hero criminal. He robbed from the rich, he gave to the poor and he punished the unjust. This Arrow was intriguing, to say the least. What kind of man it would take to designate himself as a hero, an crusader for the people given all one must undertake and sacrifice to accept such a duty. This Arrow was no mere man. Whether or not he was indeed a hero was yet to be seen but Melisandre would watch his next move with great interest.

Clara sat in the small room behind the kitchen, there was a small port window that allow her to look out the window and out at the vast sea. Today was a bad day. A day when she couldn’t even force a smile. Life on this ship had been rather nice considering the horrors her mind had conjured. Captain Sheva was true to her word. Two men died since her arrival. All because they got handsy. And just as she said, all Clara had to do was scream. The first time Clara had been cooking, preparing a roast dinner for the crew to whom were grateful for an actual dinner where the meat didn’t make them vomit it all up. She’d been standing with her back to the door. He came in, his face had been bruised quite badly, apparently at the hand of the Captain. He spoke some sweet words to her to get her attention but she knew his intention. When she told him no, he tried to force the issue. Clara screamed as hard as she could and the Captian came down like an avenging angel, sending her blade through his back before he had time to turn. The Second time, a man was drunk, and as she was passing out food, he pinched her. Clara didn’t mean to scream but it happened and there was a bullet in his head before she had time to think. She turned to see the Captain, walking back into her cabin. After that, she’d been rather safe, until the raiding began, bullets had whizzed pass, cannons boomed, Northman fell. Clara sat in this room, again today, clutching the necklace against her chest. Robyn had come in, covered in blood and bone and a bullet in her own arm, but all she’d been concerned was with her.
Despite all that, Clara was still sad. She missed Jon, her heart ached every time she thought of him, falling. She couldn’t imagine it but it had to be true, otherwise, he’d been here, he’d have found her.
She wiped her eyes. The only solace was the arrow she had with her. It was her good luck charm. She’d cleaned the blood from it, and it shined a bright green. She studied the thing over and over, knew this arrow. She twirled the arrow between her fingers as Casey entered the room. “We’re making port for supplies.” he said, blood still splattered against his clothes. “ Do you want something?”
“For you to stop killing my people.” She said bitterly, not looking at him. Casey sighed and just walked away, knowing there was no talking to her when she was like this. Casey was very nice to her, she would even consider him friendly, but right now, he was no better than any of the others as Northern blood colored his collar. She gripped the wolf at her neck, letting her grief taken her.

The Harbinger had just docked, Oliver had been waiting the better part of the week for them to finally make land fall again. They were out there, killing Northmen by the boat load. Any ship that tried to leave was sunk, any vessel that tried to lend aid was boarded and cleared of all living occupants. After a while people stopped trying, what with the Crimson Lady prowling the waters. That was her domain, and this was his. He pulled himself out of the water, grabbing a firm grip on the anchors morning line. He had swum beneath the massive ship so as not to be spotted trying to make a land approach. Oliver knew he was probably his stealth was rivaled by few, none in The North but he also knew that Captain Robyn Sheva was smart. Smart enough to know he wouldn't forget she'd gone back on her word, though apparently she wasn't smart enough not to betray him in the first place. He'd teach her the lesson before long.

Climbing up the ladder Oliver's usual forest green leathers were drenched but his quiver was covered in a casing of water tight sheep skin as to not damage any of his gear. It was strapped securely to his back as he scaled the rope and reached the deck. He moved slowly, like snake poised to strike. Most of the pirates were already off the ship happy to be at port where wine and women were in abundance. The few that remained were busy about their duties, those that were on watch weren't watching sea side. One man was walking past the rail where Oliver was hanging below. A tall man, blonde with blue eyes and blood staining his shirt collar. He waited patiently, before hopping over the railing and wrapping his arm around the man's throat. The man lost consciousness in seconds as The Arrow choked the life sustaining air from him. Oliver set him down softly and pulled the sheep skin from his quiver before moving on.



He drew an arrow and fired it at the crows nest, the projectile found it's target deep in the temple of the pirate on watch. Oliver's aim was good to say the least. He ensured that not only did the man die instantly as to not sound an alarm but he didn't fall off the perch, merely collapsing where he stood. A feast for the crows, fitting given his location. Next The Arrow was on the move, moving about the ship like a shadow. Two pirates were ascending the stairs to reach the upper decks. Oliver waited in a crouch for them to pass before springing to action. He swept the legs of one, dropping him to the ground before elbowing the second in the throat silencing him. Oliver hit the downed man across the temple with his bow, using it like a club before whirling around and hitting the other. Both men were unconscious in seconds. Oliver spotted his next three targets. Pirates rounding the corner to head toward the deck. Oliver sprinted at them, his feet still remarkably silent. They didn't notice him until he was on them. He fired one arrow mid sprint, hitting the pirate in the chest. The other, Oliver tripped up as he slid into his legs, readying an arrow as he did. As soon as the pirate he'd slid into hit the ground he fired his arrow from a laying down position. The arrow hit the standing pirate under the jaw, piercing the top of his skull. The Arrow flipped up to his feet as the last pirate living scrambled to his feet, reaching for his gun. A quick spin kick to the face ended any thoughts of retaliation as the pirate dropped to the ground in a heap.

Arrow climbed up the railing over the wheel house, spotting four more targets. All separated and easy pickings for the expert archer. Four arrows, four bodies, in little more than four seconds. Oliver had scouted out The Harbinger before, in case he'd ever need to do this. He knew where the captains cabin was and he knew he could reach it from the exterior of the ship. He knew that and could have gone there directly. He didn't want to go there first. He wanted to make sure than when he had Robyn Sheva staring down the tip of one of his arrows, she would have no hope of salvation. Oliver tied a rope to the rail above the wheel house and prepared for his jump. Given the size of The Harbinger he had about a two story drop before he'd have to swing into the side of the vessel to crash through the glass of the captains cabin window. An easy feat, he'd preformed countless time but one he had to get right. Once he was alone with her he'd have to draw on her before she drew on him. No easy thing when one was talking about the Crimson Lady but Oliver knew he could beat her, he'd warned her as much but she didn't listen. She was about to wish she had.

Oliver took a running start and leapt out into the open air, the rope firmly in his right hand. He sailed down, his mind calm. He counted the seconds he would need, before he was right where he needed to be. At the perfect moment he tightened his grip on the rope and swung into personal quarters of The Crimson Lady. Glass went flying as his body came crashing through the window sending shards of it all over the room. He was drawing an arrow before he'd even touched the floor. His body hitting the wooden floor of her office in a roll. He came up, his bow drawn and an arrow aimed right between her eyes.

"Robyn Sheva, you have failed this kingdom!"

"Robyn Sheva, You have failed this kingdom."
Robyn knew he was coming but damn was he fast. She hadn't had time to free her flintlock.
"Took you long enough." She said, ducking, bending backwards, just barely out of the way of his flying arrow. The sharp edge cut her across eye, it was shallow but it hurt. She knew this was coming and she'd been prepared. She knew the Arrow, he'd have cased the area on land, but this ship was hers. He didn't have time to scout. She kicked out, connecting with his stomach. She got to her feet quickly, snatching her flintlock and firing, He dodged and she knew he would. Then a shrill scream came from the cabin.

"Shit." She spat and her attention wasn't on him anymore, but her ward. She knew what the Arrow did, and if the girl saw the bodies. She turned, full tilt out the door. She ran out, dodging arrow after arrow as she threw herself forward and down the stairs to the deck, she hit and rolled to her feet, She looked up to see Clara looked at her, tears streaking her face. "C-Captain." The arrow struck her in the shoulder blade, spinning her around. Robyn grimaced. He would strike the good arm. Clara looked up and down at her then covered her body with her own. "Please! Don't hurt her!" She screamed and Robyn couldn't have been more shocked as Clara clutched her to her chest, maybe the pain was making her see things because another arrow didn't come.

(sorry so short, -_-)

[no worries ;P]



She was fast, faster than most. His arrow should have burrowed a hole through her skull. Instead she got a nice, superficial cut on her cheek just below her eye. She kicked him in the gut as he advanced, forcing him to back pedal and ready another arrow. She grabbed for her gun and fired. The shot was sloppy and rushed making it easy for Oliver to avoid. He dove behind her desk, popping up with an arrow ready when he'd heard the scream. Loud and piercing, a womans scream and a young woman at that. The scream gave him pause, every instinct told him to abandon the fight and go after the source of the scream but Robyn Sheva was not the kind of opponent you ignored, she'd kill you too fast for that. Miraculously she had different ideas as she turned and barreled out the door towards the sound.

Oliver wasn't sure what she was playing at or who she was running toward but he'd make damned sure she never reached her. He fired arrow after arrow down the hallway after her. In the tight corridor she didn't have much room to maneuver. She could duck down or scramble to the right and left but only a step in either direction. Despite how easily he should have filled her full of arrows by now she'd managed to avoid the worst of it forcing The Arrow to give chase with a muffled curse under his breath. He sprinted down the hall after her, firing as he ran. She couldn't keep this up forever. They exited the hall and came out onto the open air of the deck where the bodies Oliver had left lay dead or unconscious. Whoever screamed was right in front of them, obscured by Robyn's running body preventing Oliver from getting a look at her. Sheva dove off the steps for the woman, no doubt to grab her and use her as a hostage or worse. Oliver wouldn't give her the chance.

One more arrow, carefully aimed and timed. He released his hold on the arrow and the bowstring sprang to life, sending it's deadly payload soaring through the air. The arrow bit deep into her shoulder blade, spinning her around in mid air for her to crash down onto the deck. Her face was contorted in pain and as Oliver knocked a final arrow they both knew for the briefest of moments that these were the final moments of The Crimson Lady. He'd kill her for this. She'd made him a promise once, to never bring her bloody business to The North. He had told her it was under his protection and as long as she respected that they could do business, she could even call him an ally if she needed him. She betrayed that trust. She showed him he was wrong to give her the chance in the first place. He'd shown mercy and he wouldn't make that mistake again.

That's when he saw her, hair of midnight curls and tears streaming down her olive skinned cheeks. It was her, the girl from Winterfell. She was even more beautiful close up. The girl he'd saved with an arrow and now she was putting herself in front of one. He stared at her from behind his hood and for the first time in a long time he hesitated.

"Please! Don't hurt her!"

She screamed. Oliver held his arrow, the bow string taught and primed to release. He could still hit Robyn from here, he knew he could but he didn't want to, not anymore. To have that girl putting herself between death and Robyn made Oliver feel just wrong. Like he was the very thing he fought every day. Her eyes, filled with tears looked up at him and took a breath, slow and yet strained. He lowered his bow and clenched his jaw, unsure what came next.

"Ok... you win. No more."

He said, his voice losing some of that harsh growl The Arrow was so infamous for and held more of Oliver's natural voice. He slid his arrow back into his quiver and looked from Robyn to the mystery girl and back again.

"What is going on here?"

Clara could hardly breath as she started down the hooded man. Robyn looking up at her, clutching at her arm that had fallen limp at her side.

"Ok...You win. No more." He said and Clara felt her breath leave her chest in a violent gasp. Sure, signs of a panic attack as she stared up at the man. "What is going on here?"

"Sh-She...I-I."
"Clara, move, he only wants-ah." Robyn had risen to her knees, but the pain in her arm, jarred her for a moment. "C-Captian." Clara peeped, watching blood drip down her arm. "Clara, run." She said and stood up fully and it was then Clara noticed the arrow. Clara scrambled ahead of her and held out her arms. She looked at the man. "You saved me...that day, When Captain found me, you saved me." She said, her breathing was short and she was trembling. "Wh-what ever she's done...Killing her won't solve it...she's not all bad."
"Yes, I am."
"NO, you're not, you saved me too."

"Don't be foolish, Clara, get back.'"

"No! Please, maybe we can... m-make a deal... o-or something." Clara's breathing increased too quickly, the Captain was watching her now, she knew what was coming. Clara did too and there was nothing she could do.

"Been there, done that, that's why he's here."

Clara's vision blurred, she clutched her chest, and gasped, short, whimpered panic breathes. The Captain turned to her, ignoring the Hooded man so much that she turned her back to him. She looked Clara in the eyes. " Clara, count." She said and Clara couldn't stop shaking, this had be happening lately, on the bad days when her grief and fear became too much. Her chest closed, her breath threatened, not to come but again, the Captain was there, like she was now.

"...1" She whimpered

Clara focused on the Captain's worried eyes. Eyes like Jon's would have been. She couldn't lose her too.

"Count Clara." The Captain urged. Clara looked at the Hooded man. Her vision blurring and sharpening.

"2..."

"Now breathe."

Clara took a deep breath and her chest stopped aching, slowly.

"3..."

The Captain breathed with her, through her own pain.

"4." They said together, their eyes locked on one another. Clara allow the world to fall away and just focused on the Captain.

"5." Clara was calm again, the panic attack over.

Robyn stood then, sweat dotting her brow. She stood in front of Clara, protectively.

"Let the girl walk and we can finished this." She said and Clara shook her head and grabbed her uninjured arm. Robyn winched but her gaze held the hooded man.

"No! Please, I can't lose you too!" She begged and Robyn looked at her strangely. As if she saw her with new eyes. Clara then looked at the hooded man, herself, passion burning in her amber eyes. " Please, She's all I have left." She said and realized then how, in such a short time, how she'd grown to care for the Captain, despite it all.
Jon said she was like that, she loved so much, hate was near impossible for her, at least not for long. She even loved her parents when most wouldn't have.

She clutched at Robyn's arm, who was now turning pale.

"Please..."

Oliver locked eyes with Robyn Sheva, The Crimson Lady, the scourge of the seas and doom to sailors fool enough to test her waters. He stood there, his bow in his hand, his jaw tensed yet made no move. She had promised not to attack The North, she'd gone back on that promise and began working with The Fiery Hand, she'd killed and murdered and maimed during her time working for them. She'd taken this girl as a captive yet had treated her kindly, gently. So much so that she'd garnered the trust and even love of this young woman. She was willing to die to protect Robyn Sheva, he'd never thought he'd see the day that anyone would do that. She pleaded with him, staring into the darkness of his hood and begged him. He had saved her that day, she remembered it well as did he. Would he be saving her now if he killed Robyn or spared her?

"Please, She's all I have left. Please..."

She said, her voice heavy with emotion as tears streamed down her cheeks and she clutched at the arm of Robyn Sheva. Sheva herself had lost all color, her skin was pasty, her eyes were hazy and her eye lids fluttered reflexively. Oliver could see her shuddered breathes, the way she swayed on her unsteady feet. His choice was made for him as her knees buckled and she dropped. Oliver was fast enough to catch her before she fell, slipping his right arm under her left arm and around her back to support her weight.

"She's lost a lot of blood, we need to get this arrow out."

Oliver said as he slung his bow over his back before he put his left arm under her knees and picked her up. Standing up, cradling Robyn in his arms the oddness that he was about to attempt to save her life when he was trying to kill her moments earlier was not lost on him. His eyes flicked to the midnight haired beauty beside him as she looked up at him so curiously.

"I'm going to need your help."

He said before walking off back the way they'd come towards Robyn's office. As they made their way down the corridor they passed all the arrows Oliver had fired earlier. Easily a dozen or more were sticking out of the wall and floor, sunk deep into the wood of the ship. She got lucky she got hit by the one she did, where she did. Arrow entered Robyn's office and cleared everything off her desk with one sweep of his arm after he leaned Robyn back on his chest so he could free up a hand. Then he set her down as gently as possibly and rolled her onto her stomach so he could see the wound. He shot a quick glance back at the girl who was looking on in concern.

"We need needle and thread."

He said, giving her something to do so she wouldn't be consumed with worry. Turning back to Robyn's unconscious body Oliver needed to inspect the wound. Pulling another arrow out of his quiver he used the arrow head as a razor blade and sliced open the shirt so he could expose the wound. He balled up the extra cloth to use as a bandage once the arrow was out. The arrow had sunk deep, looking to have stopped at the shoulder blade. That was fortunate, should the arrow had gone all the way through, she'd probably be dead by now. He eyed the arrow stuck in her back critically, there was nothing for it, it had to come out. Wrapping one hand tightly around the base of the arrow while he put his other hand on her back to hold her down. He took a breath and pulled hard and fast, tearing the projectile clean out of her back. Blood spurted out but he quickly applied the cloth to the wound to staunch the bleeding. He reached for a bottle of rum sitting nearby, the one thing pirate ships were good for was alcohol. He pulled the cork out with his teeth before spitting it out and pouring some of the strong drink on the wound to clean it out and sanitize it.

There was too much blood, she was going to bleed out if he didn't do something. His mind snapped to a remedy he'd learned on the island and had used a few times since. He turned to the girl who was approaching him with needle and thread.

"Here, come here."

He said, beckoning her to come and stand where he was. He grabbed her hand, the blood on his gloves soaking her olive skin.

"Apply pressure here. Can you sow her up?"

She looked nervous and unsure but resigned to do whatever she could to save her friend. Oliver gave her a reassuring nod and stepped back, pulling off his gloves and setting them aside as he went to Robyn's dresser. He pulled back his hood so he could work and reached down to his belt and one of the many pouches on it. He pulled out a tiny satchel smaller than most coin purses. In it were an assortment of strong smelling herbs that he'd gotten from the island. He pinched a bit and put them in a mortar and pestle on Robyn's dresser. He began meticulously crushing up the herbs until he had a thick, gooey paste. Bringing the foul smelling salve over he tilted Robyn's head and opened her mouth before rubbing a bit on her gums. He could feel the girl staring at him, he looked up, his starling blue eyes meeting her amber ones.

"This will stimulate muscle growth and recovery. That wound will heal in half the time, though her breath will smell funny for a few hours."

He said softly to put her at ease before he eyed her work with the needle and thread. She had just finished closing the wound. He walked around to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the wound.

"That's a good stitch. She'll be ok, she just needs rest now."

"She's lost a lot of blood, we need to get this arrow out." He said after catching the Captian as she fell. She’d gone ghostly pale, her full lips tinted blue. It took Clara all she had not to shutter, so she looked up at the hooded man instead. ”I’m going to need your help.” He said and she watched him gingerly lift Robyn in his arms and walk her into her cabin. The entire way, arrows lined the wall and it made Clara feel sick. He was mere moments from killing the one person who’d done nothing but protect her.
Clara felt a little selfish for that, she should have hated her. She killed her countrymen. She’d done so just this morning. She deserved this, but the thought of Robyn’s death made her chest ache.
Once inside, the hooded man, cleared Robyn’s desk and gently lay her on top of it. Clara’s hand held on to the wolf at her throat as she watched him assess the damage he’d done.

”We need a needle and thread.”
Clara blinked and nodded, she scurried around the cabin, looking for the very thing. She’d seen Casey use it on her when she took a bullet to the arm, a few days prior.
”Where is it? Where is it?” She thought as she looked through Robyn’s things, and after what seemed like hours, she found it, a needle and thread, in a decorative box. Clara would have to ask Robyn about this box, it was lovely, and looked foreign.
She turned back, there was a great deal more blood then there had been before. She was glad she didn’t eat this morning, her heart wasn’t up for it, if it had, it would have threatened to return at the sight. She brought him the needle and thread. He looked up at her. ”Here, come here.” He said and she approached him, he took her hands and her heart kicked against her chest, despite the blood that now stained her skin. All she could focus on was his hands on hers. ”Apply pressure here. Can you sow her up?” He asked, leading her hand and Clara had to blink a few times. Her mother taught her needlepoint. She knew how to sow a tight and secure stitch...on fabric...not skin. She shook away her nervousness and nodded. Slowly, she threaded the needle, and took a deep breath before sliding the needle through Robyn’s skin, up and over, up and over, she sowed the wound closed. She looked up as he approached with an odd smelling paste, and watched him place it in Robyn’s mouth.
Clara’s brow stitched for a moment as she looked at him "This will stimulate muscle growth and recovery. That wound will heal in half the time, though her breath will smell funny for a few hours." He said, he was trying to joke but honestly, Clara was struck by the sight of his eyes, no longer hidden by the hood. She, thankfully, had just as she finished and was glad for it, otherwise, she would have froze there. She blinked back to reality and looked down at her work. It was a perfect stitch, just as her mother taught her. She cut the thread and knotted it as he came around her, looking over her shoulder. It was then she got a good look at his face. He was...handsome in a way that made her heart rap against her ribcage, his closeness brought warmth to her body, making her realize she was cold. "That's a good stitch. She'll be ok, she just needs rest now." He said, but all Clara could do was watch him.
She’d dreamt of meeting him. The one that saved her life that day. Her mind had conjured up thoughts of how they’d one day meet, how she’d thank him for what he’d done. She never believed she would actually meet him, and all she could do now was look at him. Handsomely chiseled face, deep-set eyes, the color of the sea, there was darkness there, they were guarded, and perhaps even a little sad...there was something about his eyes that made her want to lose herself in them.
”say something, Clara.”
“Thank you...” She breathed, looking away. “for sparing her...and for saving me...I owe you my life.” She said and while that man probably wouldn’t have killed her, it certainly wouldn’t have been the life she wanted and she knew herself enough, that she wouldn’t have let it last very long. She’d threatened to end it once...
“I’m Clara...Clara Stark.” She said, and for the life of her didn’t know why she was even still talking. “I never thought I’d get to see you...but this was certainly not the way I’d imagined it...” She stopped and blushed red. ”Gods, Clara, stop talking.”
It would help if he weren’t so close...no, it wouldn’t and she knew it. Gods, she was hopeless..

Oliver's gaze drifted from Robyn's unconscious to the midnight haired beauty standing before him. She looked up at him, nearly trembling. Her hands caked with dried blood, her face stained with tears, yet in her eyes there was something almost magical. A purity, a hope that Oliver didn't think existed anymore. He could see it as she looked at him, as if she didn't believe what she was looking at. He stood, looking down at her almost in awe himself. In awe of her beauty, of her spirit and her strength. He'd seen it that night when he'd saved her, that strength born of anger and rage, not wanting to be weak she refused to submit. He admired it then, and seeing what she accomplished today he admired her now. She was truly remarkable.

“Thank you...”

She spoke finally, breaking the tension between them with a soft, breathy voice. She looked away from him, as if embarrassed as she continued, he found her demeanor adorably attractive.

“for sparing her...and for saving me...I owe you my life.”

"You don't owe me anything."

Oliver replied softly.

“I’m Clara...Clara Stark. I never thought I’d get to see you...but this was certainly not the way I’d imagined it...”

"Stark?.."

Oliver muttered in shock. He'd heard the Starks were all dead but his scouts and agents had proven otherwise. The leaders of the pack had fallen yes, The King Edmond and his wife along with their three sons and their young daughter. There were reports that two of Lord Eddards Starks children had been killed as well since they were in Winterfell at the time of the attack but that hadn't proved entirely true either. Robb Stark had somehow survived and was now leading the resistance against The Fiery Hand, not only that but he was doing quite well so far, he hadn't lost a battle since this began. As for young Arya Stark no words of whether she was alive or dead had yet to surface.

Clara Stark was not one of the well known of the Stark extended family. He knew she was the youngest daughter of Lord Edwin Stark. He'd heard tell that the eldest, Julia was on the fast track up the political ladder but not Clara, little was known about her. Yet while his mind flashed through what facts he knew about her all he could do was feel sorrow for the girl standing before him. Sorrow for the loss of so many members of her family, the tragedies she'd suffered so recently and the predicament she was now in. She wasn't like the other nobility he'd encountered, that was obvious. She wasn't a target or a threat, just... Clara.

"I'm..."

Oliver began, his voice unsteady as fumbled. Compassion was not something he'd conveyed openly in a while.

"I'm sorry, for what's happened. I tried to get to Winterfell as soon as I'd heard... I wish I could have saved them too."

Oliver said honestly. He may have had his issues with the noble class but a blood bath was never the answer. He only killed when necessary and he never did so mercilessly. He was a killer, for certain but he fought every day to rein in his more violent tendencies. He couldn't allow himself to become the very thing he fought against, someone with power doing what he wanted because he could.

"At least they didn't get all of you. You made it out, and your cousin, that's something to hold on to."

"Stark?" The surprise in his voice, made her blink. So perhaps she hadn't made a complete fool of herself. He studied her then, making Clara feel suddenly small, his eyes, were startling but she couldn't look away. He looked as if he knew of her but not well. That was a look she was familiar with, everyone knew Julia, but the littlest one, seemed to take them by surprise. Finally, she pulled her eyes away from him, her brow furrowing at the thought of her sister, how she last saw her, a body, piled ontop of the others. nameless...

"I'm..." He stopped, and she heard the unsteadiness of his voice, as if he didn't know how to say what he wanted.
"I'm sorry, for what's happened. I tried to get to Winterfell as soon as I'd heard... I wish I could have saved them too." He said and Clara could only nod, her heart aching at the thought of her family, gone. Her hand rose to the pendant at her neck, as if trying to draw strength from it.

"At least they didn't get all of you. You made it out, and your cousin, that's something to hold on to."
Clara nodded but then finally what he said struck her. Her head rose slowly in realization. "My cousin?" She asked, slowly. "Who is it? Where are they? Can you take me to them?" She asked all in one breath. Her heart raced. Was it Jon? Was he alive? Was he still looking for her? What if it wasn't Jon? It didn't matter who it was, she would be happy just the same. If she were honest with herself, she was hoping it was Jon.

She jumped at the mention of her surviving cousin. The reaction was almost chemical, word of his survival was the catalyst, hope and worry were the result. She bombarded Oliver with question and he saw she hadn't heard about him. She had no idea Robb Stark yet lived or perhaps the last she'd heard were the early reports that too was slain. Oliver had heard those rumors as well but The Brotherhood without Banners has an extensive network of spies and agents working in every city and holdfast of The North. Robb Stark had taken command of the sword arm of the resistance. He led from the from as it's battlefield commander. While young he had a good head for war and as of yet, hasn't lost a single battle. He's been liberating slave camps and small villages picking away at the occupations forces.

His father Lord Eddard Stark was working on the long term running of the country and ensuring it's survival. He remained in Castle Black with his wife and remaining family. He's been sending out ravens to every nation that might possibly be convinced to lend aid. He's been providing sanctuary to refugees as well as the wounded. There was a time that Lord Eddard may have been in the field with his son but he was an older man and would in truth only get in the way. While not an old decrepit elder he was long past his solidering days and he had a bad leg that troubled him. Fortunately Lord Eddard was not a prideful man and had no qualms about staying behind in Castle Black. He was proud to help the war effort in any way he could. It troubled Oliver to think this meek man would probably be their king when it was all said and done. Then again he wouldn't necessarily want The Wild Wolf running things either.

"You haven't heard? No one told you?"

Oliver asked his eyes, only momentarily flicking to Robyn's unconscious body wondering if she knew, before returning to Clara.

"Robb Stark, he was in Winterfell for your wedding. They'd said he was killed but he wasn't. He survived, fought his way out of Winterfell and regrouped with loyal Stark bannermen. He's leading the resistance in tandem with his father Lord Eddard Stark who is technically next in line for the throne. Last I'd heard Lord Eddard is working out of Castle Black and you're cousin is marching on White Harbor with his army to take it back from the invaders. If you want me to take you to him, I can."

"You haven't heard? No one told you?"
Clara shook her head furiously. “ No, last I heard, everyone one was dead.” she said, her hands gripping at her dress in anticipation.

"Robb Stark, he was in Winterfell for your wedding. They'd said he was killed but he wasn't. He survived, fought his way out of Winterfell and regrouped with loyal Stark bannermen. He's leading the resistance in tandem with his father Lord Eddard Stark who is technically next in line for the throne. Last I'd heard Lord Eddard is working out of Castle Black and you're cousin is marching on White Harbor with his army to take it back from the invaders. If you want me to take you to him, I can."

There was a small amount of disappointment. She had to admit. She wanted it to be Jon but only because they'd been closer. Robb, he was a great man and he'd spoil her rotten if he could. He was always good for a laugh, so laid back and calm, in a way that would charm any woman. Jon was more brooding that way. The disappointment was gone and now hope bloomed in her chest. Uncle Eddard yet lived as well and better still, Robb was coming to White Harbor. He was going to liberate her home...and he could take her too him. She wasn't alone.

“Please! I want to-”
“Ugh...” A groan from the desk stole Clara's attention and she dashed over. “Captain!” She said looking over at her. The piratess opened her eyes and turned over, heaving up whatever he put in her mouth,. “ What in the happy hell was that?!” She said after relieving the contents of her stomach. “I'm not sure exactly but he said It would help you heal.” She said and that's when Robyn looked up, her face still green from nausea. Her eyes narrowed. “You son of a bi-”
“Captain Stop!” Clara pushed her back, as Robyn started. “You deserved it! You killed my countrymen, and if it weren't for you protecting me the way you did, I would have never forgiven you.” She said, and Robyn's dark eyes met Clara's impassioned amber ones. “ You deserved that arrow your back, and honestly, it will do nothing to placate the lives you took, but perhaps you can atone for it.” She said and Robyn look at her oddly. As if the Clara standing there was not the Clara she knew. Clara was breathing hard and Robyn cocked her eyes, her eyes now dancing with amusement. “How so?” She asked her and Clara blinked. She hadn't thought that far ahead but she had to think of something. “ My cousin, Robb, He leads the resistance. You can help him.” She said and Robyn looked at her. “With what?” She said as if this was completely absurd. “Fighting them. Fight against them.” She said. “Otherwise, He'll kill you and there won't be a thing I could do to stop it.” She said, and was shaking again. She was bluffing something fierce but she needed to try something. Robyn's eyes rose to the man behind her, they narrowed before she looked back down at her. “What makes you I want atonement.”
“I don't think you do, but I think you want to protect me, why, I don't know, either way, I have a habit of getting into trouble. I am going to White Harbor, with or without you.” She said and Robyn chuckled, making Clara feel small again. “I knew there was a reason I took you.” She said and Clara let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. “ Fine, we'll go to white harbor.” She said and Clara smiled. “ Without the Arrow.” She said and Clara's smile vanished. “ He comes.”
“He killed my men.”
“You killed mine!” Clara spat back and Robyn was struck dumb for a moment and then she looked at the Arrow.
“Fine, He cleans up to bodies.” She said and Clara relaxed. That was close as she was going to get as a yes and she'll take it.
She turned to the Arrow and smiled, blinking some. “There. We're going to White Harbor.” She said and exhaustion over took her and she fainted.

The groan snapped Oliver's attention from Clara and her beuaty, her light to a piratess returning form death itself. She coughed, complaining of what was in her mouth. That herbal paste saved her life, but from first hand experience, Oliver knew how it tasted and what it did to your stomach. She vomited before looking back at him.

“You son of a bi-”

She began, a look of pure hate in her eyes. Oliver didn't move, his stare steady and even as a bowstring poised to fire. She tried to rise but it was Clara who stopped her much to both Robyn and Oliver's suprise.

“Captain Stop!”

Clara shouted as she pushed her back, as Robyn started.

“You deserved it! You killed my countrymen, and if it weren't for you protecting me the way you did, I would have never forgiven you.You deserved that arrow your back, and honestly, it will do nothing to placate the lives you took, but perhaps you can atone for it.”

Clara offered atonement, a worthy goal. For someone like Robyn Sheva, he wasn't sure there was atonement for the things she'd done but there was always a start. Could she ever be good, noble, kind? Oliver wasn't so sure, anymore than if he was any of those things. What she could do was fight, fight against those who've poisoned this country. She'd been a part of that, as he had so many years ago and his father before him but it wasn't who she was underneath, but what she did that defined her. He had to believe that, as much for her as he had to for himself.

“How so?”

Robyn asked her stopping Clara in her tracks. Oliver flicked his gaze to her, honestly curious what her answer would be.

“My cousin, Robb, He leads the resistance. You can help him.”

“With what?”

“Fighting them. Fight against them.Otherwise, He'll kill you and there won't be a thing I could do to stop it.”

She said. As if response to her words Oliver's eyes narrowed on Robyn. Clara was right, and he wouldn't spare The Crimson Lady twice. That's when he noticed Clara was shaking again. He took a step closer to her, not liking what he was seeing.

“What makes you I want atonement?”

Robyn asked.

“I don't think you do, but I think you want to protect me, why, I don't know, either way, I have a habit of getting into trouble. I am going to White Harbor, with or without you.”

She said and Robyn chuckled.

“I knew there was a reason I took you.”

“Fine, we'll go to white harbor. Without the Arrow.”

Oliver let his gaze turn back to Robyn. She was either crazy or delirious or both, he was not allowing Robyn Sheva to take Clara anywhere alone. The only reason she was still breathing was because Clara had stayed his hand but not for one second did he trust Robyn.

“He comes.”

“He killed my men.”

“You killed mine!”

Clara spat back and Robyn was struck dumb for a moment and then she looked at the Arrow. Oliver held her stare evenly. She hated this and he knew it. He wasn't going anywhere without Clara. She didn't have control, she hated it and he knew it. It was all in a look, a silent dare, to try and make him leave.

“Fine, He cleans up to bodies.”

She said and Oliver wanted to chuckle. She was grasping at straws, she just wanted to do anything to get back at him but she had nothing. Clara turned to him and smiled, blinking some.

“There. We're going to White Harbor.”

She fell but for the second time today, he was fast enough to catch her. He stood there, holding Clara in his arms, his eyes on Robyn as she stared back at him.

"No more feinting."

He said, only half joking before he turned to head out the door.

"Show me where her room is, then you and I can have that chat that we both know is coming."