280 AC
Flea Bottom, Kings Landing
Amy POV
Amy awoke suddenly as she retched to her side, her head feeling a little woozy. She was just saving the people. Where had they gone? She looked around. All she saw was her first room in this place. Originally Bart's, but he gave it up for her, and when Amy had asked him why, he only showed his hand as a rebuke. That blasted hand. Anytime she would refuse his sheer generosity, he would use that trump card. She chuckled at the old man's antics. He was a smart one, she had to give him that.
Amy laid on her back, gaze transfixed at the ceiling. She thought of all the people she couldn't save. All the people who she didn't get to. Amy knew people would tell her she did all she could. She would argue. If she was fitter, had more endurance, more could've been saved. That was on her. But this was the thing with her. She wouldn't stop trying.
But she had more pressing concerns. She knew how many people were coming and crowding outside the inn day after day to be healed by the "Maiden Reborn". Some were there so that her mere presence could just help them get on with life.
Amy laughed at that. Her healing didn't extend past anything she could touch. She shuddered also. Fanatics were a real thing, her own history teaching her how devastating people could become if they believed they were something greater than themselves. It's far more easier to sacrifice yourself for a real, tangible, living "god" than one that isn't there. This could've been worse than all the crusades, all the inquisitions and the heresy suppressions if Amy was another.
'Fuuuuck meeeeee'
Her brows frowned. She really hated the attention. After she first came, Bart introduced her to some old folks that were in bad shape. When said old folks were jumping up and down livelier than two baby pups the next day, others came to the inn. And it snowballed. What could she do? Refuse? No, that wasn't her. For all her grumbling, it just wasn't in her soul to see people dying and not help.
But she had to figure out a way to streamline everything. She needed to implement some basic hygiene and principles to this place. Yes, the smell was horrendous, but Amy could block it out. She was very good at that. She got Bart and Sam to first start boiling the water. Luckily Bart was an innkeeper, to which he had plenty of water, and he had a bathing room. Thank god for that.
Bart and Sam were always confused by how much she bathed, but chalked it down to one of her "Maiden" things. It was convenient, she would admit. Any new words or ramblings she made, they just thought it was part of her "Maiden" ways.
Her mind turning to the present.
She knew Sam was outside. The little kid was a mainstay in this new life of hers. He was ten years old, sharp, and had a foul mouth when his dad wasn't looking. Her second night, she was down in the dumps a little, feeling the weight of it all, knowing she wasn't on Earth.
Sam came to her room with pieces of bread and meaty soup. He knocked on the door. When she opened, he was dressed in his dad's clothes. She burst out into laughter that day, noticing how oversized everything was in proportion to his body. Sam was laughing too, more proud that he managed to make Amy laugh than anything when she was sad. She ruffled his hair a little harder that day, him wincing back and crying out for help when Amy's hold was tight. Her mind came back to the present once more.
"Sam! Get your butt in here!"
Sam threw open the door, his face beaming with happiness.
"Milady, you're awake!"
He jumped onto the bed and wrapped his hands around her in a hug. She squeezed extra tighter.
"Thank you for keeping guard, my brave knight."
Sam reddened his cheeks but nodded up and down and did a little cheeky salute. Amy laughed.
"What's for breakfast?"
Sam pointed to the side of the table. Amy was wide eyed that she missed seeing it, too busy in her own head to spot it.
"Okay, smart ass."
Amy ruffled his hair. She grabbed a small piece of cooked meat and smashed some butter on it. She was drooling at the food. She ate and left nothing of evidence. In the corner of her eye, Sam was looking on in worry by how fast and how much she was eating.
"Whe..is...ur...B..aa..ther..." Her face full.
"Where is my father?"
Amy nodded, stuffed to the brim.
"I don't know, milady."
She quickly finished her food.
"Alright, well, I'm gonna go downstairs and get myself a beer or ale, whatever. I'd ask if you want some, but you're too young."
"I'm not young."
"Yes you are. Otherwise, can you catch me?"
Amy, full of food and refreshed, jumped out of bed and sprinted out the room. Sam was hot on her tail, his little legs running with all their power.
She cheated. She jumped down the stairs. It wasn't a crazy height, rather a small one, and she blew a raspberry after she landed. Sam went red with cute rage. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could. Alas, he wasn't as fast as Amy, who was already behind the back of the counter, grabbing herself a mug and pouring the better casks of ale.
Before Sam could reach her, the door flew open. Bart was there holding a small boy, frail and weak. Another man was behind them.
"LADY DALLON! I NEED YOU NOW!"
Amy sighed. She would help, but she was pouring herself a sweet drink though. Oh well.
"Bring him to the closest table by the counter," Amy belted.
Amy walked out from the counter. Now Sam finally caught up and was confused. Amy walked to the table. She needed to first assess what was going on before she did some irreversible damage to the child. Amy always made sure that she didn't go too far with her power. She was terrified. Why shouldn't she be? She could alter any living thing. Any living being was hers to mess around with. That was a power beyond comprehension. It should be treated with care and respect. It most of all should be feared. Never thought of as a plaything.
Amy looked at the boy, whose breath was hoarse. She placed her hands on his ribs. She could feel that the lungs were not moving to full capacity. She instantly knew this was tuberculosis. This period of time, and a child struggling with his lungs not at capacity with a persistent cough, it was clear as day.
Amy then corrected the lungs, repairing all the scarred tissue, as well as boosting the child's immune system. She killed many of the bacteria that were engaging in harming the boy's body.
It only took a few minutes before the boy's breathing was steadied, his face getting more full of life. Amy smiled and quickly went back to the counter. She'd been through all that process before. She hated the attention.
The boy's father grabbed onto him and let the tears overcome him.
"BY THE GODS, BART, BY THE GODS! THE LADY SAVED HIM!"
Bart was smirking. Amy was once again turned away from pouring herself a drink to witness the supposed father's weeping.
"Told ye, Davos, ye daft fool."
Amy frowned. Bart was a daft fool himself. Who was he to call someone daft? Davos then turned to her. They were separated by the counter. Davos lowered himself to his knees.
"My lady, I pledge myself to you. I pledge myself to be forever in your service as repayment for the kindness you have given me."
Amy was taken aback. She had lots of awe and gratitude, but all of it was more thinking she was a god. This man simply didn't say any of that. He didn't have that sheer fanaticism that the others had. He was just grateful, and Amy knew the difference. He didn't care for the religious aspect, only that his boy was saved. Amy could respect that. Her very nature wanted her to decline the service, but she needed more help. The way the man spoke was more learned than any of the people she had met in this stinking city. He probably could tell her even more about this Westeros world she found herself in.
"Okay."
Davos looked lost. Bart then smacked him on the head.
"She said yes, ye git."
Davos beamed with happiness. He got up and bowed reverently. Amy watched Davos grab his son and walk out. He obviously pledged to return as soon as he would take his son home.
Amy didn't mind. She was super thirsty, and she had a beer to drink.