One Giant Growth Spurt (ASOIAF Giant SI)

One Giant Growth Spurt

Waking in Bloodraven's cave when Robert's Rebellion begins, A Giant SI's first step leaves big cracks in canon. When he thinks it's all a dream, Bloodraven gets squished. Once the situation is realized, he's left scrambling to plan his long term survival.

Comments and respectful critique are always welcome. Suggestions may be stolen, so beware.​

Chapter 1: Bigfoot Wakes
283 AC​

My first sensation on waking is an overload of smells that assail me. Earthy aromas wash over and surround me, with myself somehow able to distinguish most of them. Even though I have yet to regain feeling in my limbs or the ability to open my eyes, I find panic has not begin to set in.

I easily notice the smell of dirt and bark, with several… bushier smells moving around me. Them smell of fresh running water comes from below me and I have no idea how I can determine that by smell alone.

A pungent spicy odor is next and I know it's a mixture of blood, sap, and several other plants. The scent of canine waste is faint, so it must be regularly cleaned. The final odor I can decipher, is the salty sweat of a person.

Sound returns to me now and I can hear an old man's murmuring chant. Childlike humming accompanies his words from the moving bushes, creating what almost sounds like a hymn.

Feeling floods into my body and everything feels off. I feel like I've nearly tripled in size during my sleep, however long that's actually been. My limbs feels massive and numbed by a thick layer of callouses over my entire body.

As I shift on the ground, I realize my body is also covered in thick shaggy hair. It catches on the roots beneath my body and pulls painfully making me yelp in surprise.

"You're finally awake, good." The man's chanting ends and he speaks directly to me with a calculating voice. "I have much to teach you and little time to waste."

My eyes snap open and I jerk upright suddenly, finding my eyesight is blurry as usual. I don't think my glasses will fit anymore. Frowning at my over sized hands, I ignore the speaking man and gaze at my changed body.

"I'm so big and hairy!" I gasp in amazed horror, which just makes my watchers giggle. "I went to sleep in my bed last night and I was a normal guy. What the hell is going on?" I raise my voice and it becomes a booming roar.

"I needed an agent to finally put my long plans in motion, it was quite the effort pulling your spirit from the After." The old man speaks with no care for my situation, in fact he sounds frustrated with my attitude.

I turn to look him in the eye and find the large dirt cave very familiar. I may not have liked how the show ended, but until the books are done it's all I have. Realizing this has to be a lucid dream, I lock eyes with Bloodraven.

"The After?" My voice rumbles in confusion.

"Whatever your culture calls it matters not, I just needed someone for my needs." He starts to explain and I do what I always do in a dream. I do whatever I want.

Bloodraven continues his explanation and I start to scowl. It's my dream, why am I going to listen to a figment of my imagination? When I realize he's telling me about how he caused the current war by steering Rhaegar's dreams towards those including the Stark girl, I realize this dream is going with the conspiracy theory version of events.

"Did you plan for this?" Clenching my fist, I react before he has a chance to even scream. I slam my fist against Bloodraven's body and crush him to a red paste against the roots.

Screams come from behind me and remind me I'm not alone. I stand and whirl on the dozen Children of the Forest, only to find them all collapsed and shivering on the dirt. Whimpering can be heard coming below the remnants of Bloodraven, making me smile at the sight of four dire wolf pups.

"Well aren't you some cuties," I coo at them, carefully scooping them into one hand. They don't even fill a third of my palm, but do make me giggle as the claws start to tickle.

Feeling smug at how quickly I took control of the dream, I consider what else can be changed before I wake up. Who else can I squish?

I have to crawl on my hands and knees to crawl through the tunnels, but the scent of fresh air drives forward. When I can hear the wind whistling outside, something sharp stabs into my hand.

I yelp in pain and nearly drop my precious cargo, but manage to brace myself against the wall of the tunnel. With extreme care I feel around in the roots and pull out a sword with the blade made of rippling grey metal.

"Dreams aren't supposed to hurt..." I mutter as dark red blood drips from my wound. I don't think this is a dream. I lift the sword closer to my eyes and frown at the sight of my blood covering it.

If this is real. that means I just… "Oops."

I can hear angry yelling from behind me and it quickly grows louder. Yeah, not waiting around for Old God justice. I blanch at the idea of being fed my own heart or something even worse and decide I'm not going to find out.

I burst from the cavern and find myself in the middle of a blizzard, forcing me the shield the whimpering wolves against my hairy chest. Trudging out into the snow, I know only one thing. I need to get the hell across the wall and get myself a noble patron.

Aerys would take any help right now, but I wouldn't side with him even in a nightmare. Considering my options, I cross as many off as I can. Even a giant will get overwhelmed by an army, so I can't lift a siege or turn the tide at the Trident.

Really I'm stuck with three choices. As the sun dips below the Frostfangs, long wicked shadows show me why they call this the haunted forest. Do I try and become King Beyond the Wall and bring everyone South with me all at once?

Or should I go right to Essos and say screw it? It's not like elephants and mammoths are all that different, I can join the Golden Company. Once Daenerys comes to Westeros, she empties the Dothraki Sea.

"I'm the only one who knows where Lyanna is, saving her should get either Ned or Robert to reward me with basically anything I want." I mutter to myself and remember my very valuable toothpick. "Not like I have much use for this, may as well sell it to someone as rich as Tywin."

The cold doesn't penetrate my thick coat of coarse body hair and no predators are eager to approach, leaving my mind free to wander. I trek through the woods for hours but never find the treeline or decide on what to do. Only the eventual rising of the sun lets me know a whole night has passed and I'm getting tired.

It's frustrating to find I'm unable to see more than a few hundred feet in front of me and after a hundred it's mostly just fuzzy shapes. Forced to rely on my thankfully incredible nose, I catch a whiff of something that makes me stomach rumble.

Sniffing the air, I follow the smell of fresh meat through the woods. It brings me across a stream that I would have called a raging river only yesterday and I smell an elk collapsed. Weakly bleating it leads me right towards it. Crimson stains the snow and I see a pair of arrows embedded in the stag's side.

My stomach rumbles and I can't believe what I'm about to do. Ignoring every single warning about disease that screams in my mind, I grab it by the neck.

"I'm sorry, but I need to eat and I think these guys are getting hungry too." Grabbing the elk's neck I snap my wrist to the side and end it's suffering. Hoping to satisfy the hunters, I tear one leg off the carcass and leave it in the snow.

The rest I leave in the hand with the wolf pups, giving the something to nibble on until I find somewhere we can rest for the night. When I smell the Free Folk approaching, I know it's time to move.

Hoping my very obvious trail wont be followed, I unleash a feral roar as a final warning. I jog alongside the river and find the woods beginning to thin. Small hills start to break up the landscape and I smell one with a cave large enough for me. Or at least the smell of bear makes me assume this to be the case.

My nose proves itself correct once again and leads me right into a bear's den. It takes in my full size and decides I'm not that big. It roars and forces me to return a mighty bellow of my own. Shocked into silence, the cave bear isn't prepared for my next action.

I carefully slide the pups and elk carcass off my hand and leave them sheltered inside a crack in the rock. Once I'm sure they'll be safe from what is to come, I lower my shoulder and charge the beast.

The bear learns just how big I really am, when all sixteen feet of me slam into it. I knock it to the ground and roar in the beast's face, letting it know this cave is mine now. Meeker than a teddy bear, it lays on it's back and exposes the vital areas in a sign of submission.

 

Chapter 2: Let The Lies Begin
283 AC
​

Once I make it clear this cave is mine now and have no further desire to inflict harm, the bear carefully rests at against the far wall. It watches me carefully at first, but my lack of aggressive scent lets it remember it’s hunger.

Cursing how utterly screwed this whole situation is, I drag the elk carcass deeper into the cave. The four pups cling to it the whole way and seem much happier with room to play. Tearing off the rather meaty legs, I toss one to Teddy and let the wolves wrestle over the second.

“We’re just dog-sitting the pups, so you be nice to them.” I warn my new companion, who seems to understand the meaning if not the words themselves.

One of the males is jet black and playing a game game of tug of war with the steel grey girl. The other female is arctic fox white with by far the fluffiest fur. The other boy seems covered by brown fur at first, but as the morning light begins filtering inside the cave it reveals the undercoat of red.

“Now what should I call you all?” I sniff the air, hoping my new miracle nose will have an answer. All it does though, is let me know the bear lived here for a quite while based on the way the smell clings to the dirt.

Neither Rhaegar or Robert are really great choices, no matter what vices are curbed. So the real question is, who will believe my lies more? I’m the only giant who can speak more than a dozen words of common, I can tell people anything.

Robert wants to overthrow the dragons… what better way to give him legitimacy, than saying he has the blood of royal giants in his veins. I realize one man can’t make a big enough splash for either Rhaegar or Aerys to win this war, even a man as big as I am now. Garth Greenhand was supposed to have a giantess for a mother and he’s the only person I know more fertile than Robert.

I begin lightly tapping my foot as I get lost in my plans, the grey furred wolf attacking my toes playfully in my distraction. One giant can make the rebels’ win not so bittersweet however. I grin in realization and let the idea shape itself.

With heavy eyelids I lean against the cave wall and wriggle around for a smooth patch. Once I find one, the pups are quick to fling themselves at me and settle against my dark brown chest hair.

“I’m guessing it was supposed to be one of you for each Stark, but we’re down one already.” I reach for the reddish brown pup and stroke it’s back with a single finger. Yawning wide, I stop fighting my heavy eyes and drift off to sleep.


…


I wake suddenly from a fitful nightmare filled with the living dead, when a sharp pain comes from by side. Thinking it’s just one of the dire wolves, I pull my arm out from behind my neck and slowly move to catch the naughty canine.

I’m shocked when I grab someone distinctly human and cursing up a storm. The pain in my side ends, but now it feels like a wasp is stinging my hand continuously.

“What are you doing?” I lift the squirming red head before my face and am shocked to recognize him. It’s definitely a younger version of the red headed Tormund from the show. So young in fact, he doesn’t even look old enough to drink.

He looks shocked for a few moments, but this becomes fear when I see the bloody knife in his hand. Quickly chucking it aside, he gives me his best look of determination.

“You stole my deer.” Tormund crosses his arms and smirks cockily at me. “I came to get it back, not my fault you already at him.”

“I left you a leg.”

He snorts at this, refusing to back down even as I bare my teeth. “A leg ain’t going to feed everyone back at camp.” I can smell the fear flowing from him in waves, but his face shows none of this.

“I’m going South but I need a guide first,” I explain to his shock. “Take me to the Fist of the First Men and I’ll go get you something else to eat.”

“Like what?”

Smirking down at his eager face, I clarify. “All the fish in the river.” His eyes go even wider somehow when I speak.

“You’re a lot better at talking than the other giants.” He scowls at me, though his patchy beard fails to make it intimidating. “How come?”

“Because I’m the Giant Duke,” I make up on the fly, knowing Westeros has issues with Kings Beyond the Wall. If I’m going South, I need a title. Preferably one without any negative connotations or can be contested over.

He frowns at the explanation. “What’s a Duke?” I watch him test out the word a few time and start chuckling.

“It’s a load of shit,” Confused at first, he eventually joins in when I explain my intent to steal from the kneelers with words alone.

“Where else do you need to go?” He’s considering the offer carefully, but friendly enough to be put back on the ground. An eager gleam fills his eyes when I mention Craster’s Keep and he quickly agrees to my conditions.

When I stand to check the weather outside, Tormund yelps in a cross between horror and envy. “You’re not going near my sister with that thing hanging loose!”

Shrugging at his wide eyed expression of shock, I reach for the remains of the massive elk. “Get the last of the meat off the hide and I’ll figure something out.” He rushes to obey and the activity starts waking the pups.

Tormund tosses the last few scraps to the pups and holds up the mostly intact hide. I hold it against myself and have him staple it together with the antlers. Once his work is done, he steps back with a more relaxed look on his face.

“Hold onto the pups,” Not giving him time to react, I scoop him and them up like dice. “They want to pee on every tree they see and I’m not waiting for that. They can play when we get to the river.”

He jumps down when I stop, the wolves following him into the fresh snow. Going to a pine tree only a bit taller than myself, I lift a single leg and begin pushing. The wood creaks and groans before snapping the taproot, with the very shallow roots flinging dirt and snow into the air.

Holding the tree like a broom, I place a foot on each side of the river. Carefully keeping my balance, I start to vigorously sweep back and forth. Water splashes onto both sides of the bank, with stunned fish being caught in the frenzy.

While the pups leap for the fish flopping on the rocks beside me, Teddy gorges himself on any fish who manages to escape my wrath. “These are supposed to be yours, don’t just watch!” I bark at Tormund, who rushes to collect as many trout as he can.

“Giantsbane… more like Giant’s pain in the ass.” I mutter under my breath, making him chuckle in glee.

“Who’d you take the kneeler sword from?” He points to Darksister, currently hanging by the handle from my knotted hair.

“It was a Crow’s, I killed him.”

He grins at that comment and teases me. “Better not tell the ones on the Wall that bit.”

“He hadn’t been one for over a hundred years… I think I’ll be fine.” Chuckling at how Tormund’s eyes nearly pop from his head, I decide to really screw with him. “I look good for my age, don’t I?”

Blurting out his comment with absolutely no tact, Tormund stops catching the flopping fish to stare at me slack jawed. “How old are you?”

I shrug casually and make a show of thinking hard about it. “I’m almost middle aged… I think. We kind of stop keeping track after a century.” I explain with a barely contained grin, neglecting to tell him this only occurred yesterday.

“Hey!” I snarl at the aggressive grey wolf, who’s currently nipping at the very still Teddy. “Play nice.” I can see the relief in the bear’s eyes when the pup gives up tormenting him.

“This is more than enough for the trip.” Tormund realizes eagerly. “Wish I met you years ago.”

“Years ago I didn’t need to leave.” I grunt and let him pile the fish in my left hand, while the wolves clamber onto my right. “The Others are awake and it’s time to go South for winter.”

He remains silent and lets me scoop him into my right hand, the pups licking at him for any trace of the fish. I let him ponder my words, Tormund’s scent still strong enough to follow back to his camp.

My approach is noticed long before I crest the hill, the dozen or so Free Folk are torn between fighting and fleeing. Tormund calling out cheerfully to them, is the only reason things stay calm.

“I made a new friend, we went fishing.” He smirks at the amazed faces, before whispering to me under his breath. “Uh… what is your name?”

I try not to freeze and just start giving him three letter bits of gibberish until he looks satisfied. “Dok Tur Big Tik Ket.” I realize I sound like a baby sounding out his first words, but it seems to make Tormund’s tribe calm down.

​

 

Chapter 3: Curse My Cowardly Conscience
283 AC
​

Who Tormund’s sister turns out to be has me quite surprised, although I think I managed to pass it off as a general annoyance. Fourteen year old Osha is quite curious and filled with endless questions, although I should probably get used to saying four and ten.

If even Tormund is finding my speech odd, I should probably work on my kneeler dialect. I know Osha said her brother killed a giant, but the convenience of named characters being related like this… has me reconsidering what’s going on.

My new theory, is that I had an aneurysm in front of the television. This must all just be a fever dream... as I die drooling on my couch. When I hurt my hand, that must have been me smacking the corner of the coffee table.

I’m not sure if I actually believe that, but it’s keeping me from collapsing in shock for now. I dig in the frozen rocks, sniffing for any scent of something different every few seconds. I’m nearly sixteen feet tall, that’s almost three people!

Being forced to walk at the Free Folk’s pace gave me a few days to think about my lies, even with the eager brunette perched on my shoulder the whole ride. She really is helping to sell my annoyance as natural.

“Why are we looking for rocks, what’s so special about them?” She asks for what has to be the thirtieth time, her eyes alight with mischief.

“I can’t bring everyone South right now, that will look like I’m invading.” I twist the truth just enough to satisfy Osha. “If you’re all going to live long enough for me to come get you, you need a way to make sure the dead stay that way.”

My tales of the dead coming South have terrified her, even if the rest of the tribe find it ridiculous. The thought of being alone for the rest of my life, has forced me to acknowledge how close to extinction my species really is.

“Once I steal some land, I’ll come back for anyone willing to play along.”

She frowns, unable to comprehend the idea of stealing land like one would a mate. “I know you’re big, but how are you going to steal enough to live on?”

“With my words,” I smirk at her growing confusion. “Kneelers like talking, so I got really good at it.”

“Can you steal me a castle?” She asks slowly.

Patting her on the head I chuckle. “You’ll have to lie to all the kneelers.” She shrugs as if that’s a foregone conclusion anyway. “I’ll need a guide to the Wall and someone to go into buildings for me.” I consider her very clear unease at being left behind. “I guess I can bring one of you with me.”

I catch a whiff of burnt rock and signal for Osha to take over. She pulls a cloth wrapped bundle out of the dirt and whistles for the rest of her family. Quick as can be the bindings are undone and glinting black obsidian falls to the snow. The cracked war horn is last to be revealed and gives me real hope in crossing the wall.

As soon as Tormund rushes over to grab the horn, I can smell something foul on the shifting wind. It takes me a few seconds to decipher it, but soon it becomes an overwhelming stench of death that wafts towards me.

The wights are coming and the smell of something else – somehow even fouler than the walking dead – leads them. Though that scent I can tell is thankfully still a ways off. “Time to move, the dead are here!” I warn the small tribe and whistle for the still unnamed wolves.

They’re already aware of the danger and leaps into my palm, which I then push Osha into. She tries to complain, but I close my fingers like a birdcage and grab Tormund with my other hand once he gathers the dragonglass.

“If you want to live, get across the river!” I remember the expedition for a wight was able to last several days on an island and I don’t remember any in the water at Hardhome. Water might actually be enough to kill the foot soldiers and if it’s not… it’ll still give me the uphill advantage.

I reach the Milkwater second, to find Teddy is definitely smarter than the average bear. He’s waiting on the far side of the river and looks ready to leave me behind. My whistle makes him give me a sad look, which becomes content at the sight of Tormund.

“Sure, you only like him because he feeds you all his scraps.”

“Course he does,” Snorts my ginger guide. “Why else would I be doing it?” His cocky grin is contagious and I smile even with the looming threat of death on the way.

His family doesn’t take my warning urgently enough and I hear screams coming from the remnants of the First Men’s fort. Only three of the tribe emerge from the half ring of remaining wall, with none of them making it even halfway to the riverbank.

I thought so, now let’s see what getting splashed does to you. Dropping my cargo on the shore, I turn and stomp back into the surprisingly tepid water. Swinging my arms through the white water, I send wave after wave of it crashing onto the waiting wights.

It knocks the swarm off their feet and seems to be causing them a degree of pain as they writhe on the riverbank. Not as effective as I’d hoped, too bad. Water is life, but it seems that’s only enough to give the wights second degree burns.

Once the water flows back into the rest of the river, the dead begin to clamber back to their feet. I realize the water is starting to get chilly and that means it’s time to run. Stumbling out of the water in a frantic rush, I grab my charges and charge towards to Haunted Forest.

I know one of the few things able of killing me in one on one combat is almost here and I’m not ready to wrestle an Other. I’ve seen the maps online, so I know I only need to cut through maybe twenty miles of woods.

Craster’s Keep is along one of the branches of the Milkwater and only slightly Southeast... I should be able to pick up a stench as strong as his once I’m in the area. Even if I can’t stop him from making a deal with the Others, Craster needs to die. If he’s only giving them one baby a year, that’s still more than we ever see onscreen.

Tormund’s rage filled voice interrupts my musings. “What in the frozen Hells was that!”

“I told you the Others are awake, that’s what they do to everything alive.” My words shock him into silence and he limits himself to comforting his sister. My vision seems to be slightly better in the dark, which lends more credence to the giants living underground theory.

“Dragonglass will kill the ones that look like living ice, but fire and force will work on the wights.” I could have said steel, but I think I have one of the only weapons made from it this far north. So not really a welcome suggestion when all they can use is stone… maybe bronze if he can steal from a Thenn.

Seeing dead bodies tear people apart was horrifying and really hammered home what will happen if I just abandon everyone above the Wall. I’m coming back… which means I don’t really need a toothpick right now.

“I’m stealing your sister, so I may as well steal you too.” He starts out looking both betrayed and horrified by what that means, but by the end of my sentence Tormund is blanched in terror.

“What?” He squeaks out and I can smell the fear rolling off him. Osha at least knows what I mean and is struggling to hide her laughter behind Tormund’s back. “How would that even work… nothing will fit.”

I nearly trip when he says that and rush to set his mind at ease. “I was japing, It just mean I’m calling you my kids.”

“Why in the Hells would you do that?” He looks up at me cross eyed. “I’m a man grown and Osha’s nearly a woman.” His seven and ten years is barely a man, but I won’t argue I need his support if this will work.

“Kneelers steal from each other by marrying off children, I’m going to need you both for that.” It’s not like I can have kids of my own, or even really get married for real. I wince at the mental image that brings. I’m not that cruel.

“What’s in it for me?” Frowning at all this plotting, Tormund looks ready to jump from my hand with Osha.

I smirk at him and know this will secure his loyalty. “Craster’s wives and keep. I’ll even leave you my toothpick, it’s made from magic metal and will kill Others.”

“I’m listening.” His look of fear becomes one of eager anticipation.

“It’s a secure place and I need someone to rally the Free Folk while I’m gone.” I stare into his eyes and refuse to look away. “I need a Baron Beyond the Wall, while the Duke goes South and gets our peoples a new home.”

Change some titles just enough and they aren’t a threat to anyone in the South, but they will still give my lies legitimacy. I slow from a sprint to a jog when I can no longer smell death on the wind. Benjen and Osha are about the same age, which gives me a new path for ingratiating myself… one I hadn’t considered before.

“The Stark Lord believes in honor, which I do find admirable.” I explain to my confused wards. “But he will use this reputation to lie to the world. I think it’s only right we turn that back on him.”






​

 

Chapter 4: First Impressions Matter
283 AC
​

Clinging to my back hair Tormund’s weight tugs on me with more irritation than expected, but it’s too late to come up with a different plan. I approach the small and admittedly well constructed wooden keep. Osha isn’t pleased with my plan, but is willing to trust me.

“Craster!” Calling out in my most friendly voice, I can see the shocked man stumble out of his home. He has an ax in hand, but he reeks of fear and I know he won’t be using it. “You like girls?”

“Aye… what’s it to ya?” His voice is filled with doubt and he tries to figure out what I want.

I lift my hand over the wall and reveal Osha and the pups. “I have one.”

The lure of of wife not from his own blood has Craster’s smell swiftly change to eagerness. “What do you want for her?”

“I smell pigs, I want one.” Feeling bad for Osha’s disgruntled look, I plead with my eyes for her to play along.

“Only one?” Craster is already waving for his wives to open the gate.

I shrug and start to walk inside, bending down to place Osha before him in the mud. When my shoulders are as low as I can easily get them, Tormund throws himself at Craster with a savage roar.

Craster does manage to get his iron ax up for an attempt at defending himself, but Toothpick cleaves the weak metal right in half. While the abusive father gasps, Tormund smirks and pierces the foul mans heart.

I rise back to my full height and look down over the assembled women with my best attempt at a kind grin. “We’re stealing all of you.”

“Anyone who doesn’t like that, you got till sunset to leave.” Tormund claims with easy confidence as he swagger towards the main building. We’ve already gone over this and Craster had his wives do everything.

It’s not a good idea to leave angry and highly capable woman in your care. If he’s going to stay here by himself, Tormund will need a more positive relationship.

“My son Tormund of the Bigfoot has claimed you, which makes you all Amazons of my line!” I stop yelling and adopt a more grandfatherly tone. “I’m going South to steal a castle from the kneelers, so you’re going to need to be able to protect yourselves until I return.”

Those words shock the wives and daughters of the late Craster, getting a few more to carefully exit the house. I smile warmly and have Osha bring them the dragonglass knives.

“Anyone doesn’t like the way things are now, my gates right behind me.” Swaggering in front of me with a puffed out chest, Tormund takes over the speech. “But unless you want to get torn apart by the dead, you may want to consider the offer of joining our family.”

He pauses and frowns up at me, hissing at me from the corner of his mouth. “Why did you pick Bigfoot for a kneeler name?”

“You know what they say about people with big feet...” I waggle my eyebrows at him, but the gesture goes unnoticed.

“They’re easier to track?”

I scoff at that and whisper low enough that only he can hear. His belly laugh has me confident in the name having the same effect on Robert.

One of the girls is braver than her sisters and this blonde with knotted hair speaks for them all. “You’re giving us names, why? We never needed one before.”

“Unless we want to try interbreeding, I’m going to need to claim some of you as my own.” This has them all far more agreeable with the first offer I made.

“I’m going to need something fancy to wear if I’m crossing the Wall.” First impressions really mean everything, especially in a world based entirely on reputation. “How many cloaks do you have here?”


...


It takes three days to prepare for my departure, but it is time well spent. Craster had a collection of cloaks, each one taken from a fallen Crow and added to his collection.

Even he wasn’t dumb enough to display them unaltered, so ash and soot had been rubbed into the material over the years. The girls still to young for Craster to take as a wife stitched the dark grey cloaks into a kilt for me to wear and hopefully make people link me to the Starks. At least for now.

Osha stitches strips of hide into a sash that slips over my shoulder, with a vine basket large enough for all four pups woven and hangs from my back like a quiver. I even let her comb the as many tangles as she can find from my shaggy body hair, anything that will help make my meeting with the Night’s Watch go better.


While Tormund proves himself to my new Amazons, I carefully remove the branches from an oak tree. I’ll need some form of weapon and it’s mass of roots are perfectly wrapped around a boar sized boulder.

I can actually feel some strain in my shoulders when I practice swinging it. It takes a while to get the hang of not hitting myself, but I know with my size it’ll be incredibly hard to find an instructor for any kind of style.

Lumbering back inside the walls with my new maul, I smile at the girls who already seem happier with life. I can probably get Robert to show me a few moves, but most of my style is going to be self made.

“Ready Osha?” She jumps at my approach, the furs wrapped around my feet muffle my steps. Her once tangle mass of brown hair has been combed out even neater than my own and she’s been given the best looking clothing in the keep.

The dark brown breeches are well made and lined with what smells like fox fur. I assume they are what a Southern lady had one when stolen, so they should give Osha the appearance of a returning noble. The tunic and fur coat are also of exceptional quality, if a very plain brown.

“I guess so, but I really don’t have to remember anything else?” Her eyes scrunch up in distaste. “Won’t the Umbers know something is wrong?”

“If we can’t convince my kin, we may as well go straight for Essos.” People like to be told they matter, so I just need to give them that importance and they’ll believe almost anything I say.

Tormund saunters up and tries to look cocky, but I still catch a whiff of his self doubt. “You’re really coming back for us?”

“I can get a castle for Toothpick, I’d come back just for it.” I snort at the disgruntled odor leaking from him. “Besides, you’re my ‘Firstborn’… I kind of need your kids.”



…



What I first think is a blizzard, is eventually revealed to be the colossal Wall. My vision doesn’t even make out half of it, as far as I can tell the ice goes forever upwards. Osha flicks me on the ear and hisses at me in frustration.

“You have to stop moving so much,” She’s really getting into her role and already has the attitude down. “You asked me to do this, so stop making it so hard.” Struggling with the massive antler, Osha does her best to weave it into the hair on my left shoulder.

“Stop being so nervous, I know what I’m doing.” No... I really don’t, but I can’t let anyone else know that.

“Of course I’m worried, we’re going right to the Crow’s Nest.” Grumbles Osha, her shaking hands are what makes the second antler so difficult to attach.

“Well I don’t think anyone has tried this before,” Trying to reassure her with a calm voice, I march straight towards the gate. The banner from the Fist is held aloft in my free hand, letting me get right in front of the barrier keeping me from the South.

I hand the banner off the maul on my back and reach for the gate with sureness in my motion I definitely don’t feel. “Be good Teddy, we’re almost across.”

The booming echo of my four knocks has no immediate answer, so I take a few steps backwards. Waving up at what I hope is a ranger, I call out in feigned irritation.

“What kind of welcome is this?” Osha tries to stifle her giggles before anyone can see. “The Duke comes to aid his kin and you keep him barred from the South!”

The black mark on the ice indeed is a Crow, one who manages to find his courage and challenge my claim. “We guard the realms of men and you sure in the Seven Hells are no man!”

“You’ve done a right shit job of it,” I manage to keep the smile from my lips, but only barely. “I’m here to bring my girl here back to the Umbers!”

“Wildlings steal, they don’t return the stolen.”

“Which should tell you all you need to know.” I bellow back at the confused ranger. “I’m no man, but I’m definitely not wild.”

“Now open the gate, Osha wants to meet her family!” She has to bury her face in my neck at that remark and hide her laughter, but it just makes her look even more vulnerable to those on the Wall.

No idea what actually happened to her, but people want a happy ending. I’ll just give the Umbers one I wrote instead.
​

 

Chapter 5: Old Faith of the Seven
283 AC
​

Only the courtyard of Castle Black, is actually big enough for me to comfortably wait. I assume I could fit inside the main hall, but definitely not through the door. I thought giants helped build the Wall, guess that didn’t include the castles.

Commander Qorgyle may doubt my claims, but he did send a raven to Last Hearth. As the only one posted at Castle Black to have actually met the missing Umber, Jeor Mormont has been left as Osha and I’s chaperon. Bringing Teddy may just have been the best thing I could have done.

He seems to smell the same thing I do on Jeor, the scent of decades worth of wearing bear fur. It’s left my bear following the Mormont, since he can actually get at the meat in the mead hall.

“We’ve had hundreds of girls taken over the year,” Jeor growls, his voice gruff and filed with skepticism. “What’s so special about Osha ‘Umber’ here?”

Time to really get the rumors going. I lean over and take a strong whiff of the ranger. “You smell like bear and man, she smells like man and giant.” I repeat the process with a giggling Osha, well aware of exactly how many Crows are listening in. “The first Seven ruled as god Kings and Queens and we waged a losing war with the Squirrel People.”

Giants and Children waged war long before man arrived, so lets twist this as much as I can. “We left the First Lands across the sea and left the lands to our kin, cursed by the Children to forever be denied a Giant’s true size.” Even bigger Giant’s lived in the Bone Mountains long ago, let’s see a Maestor try and argue this to my face.

“When we neared defeat due to the trickery of the Children, the First Men heard our call.” No one in the courtyard is even pretending to work anymore, all of the Crows are hanging onto my every word. “Our descendants we thought cursed, you came to our aid and proved you are still Giant at heart!”

Stunned silence greets this, so I continue with my altered history of Planetos. “The Seven bowed to the courage of our kin and we lived as allies for centuries. But the Children learned of how our power was broken in the East.”

“With the foulest of magics, they gave rise to the Long Night and we giants knew our time was near it’s end.” I adopt a more grateful tone, one I hope will butter them all up. “We built our children homes to care for the Seven Kingdoms of Giants. The Seven’s faces carved right onto the Weirwoods, as a reminder we are still standing guard beyond the Wall.”

I need names for them, If I’m really going to merge to religions into one. “Father Odin the wise knew if the First Men had such strength and courage still within them, more of our kin in the East had this strength.”

“Mother Frigga – Queen of the Golden Halls – Agreed and while the Giants marched beyond the Wall under my ancestor’s rule.” I smirk internally at all the slack jawed faces on display. “The Seven went back to the cursed lands of the East, to find those who would stand with us against the sinister Children and ensure they never bring back the Endless Night.”

“I know they went to the lands once called Andalos, but the curse was not gone.” Time to connect this to the current strife and really tie Giants to everything. “The Dragon Riders slew the Seven, rather than allow the free men of Andalos to reclaim the glory of our forefathers!” I make sure to emphasize the lie over our shared injustice.

“We watched as our children resisted with all they had, even as our ancient Kingdoms got carved by the whim of Dragons!” I’m really getting into this, speeches are incredibly fun when no one has a way to talk over you. “I watched as the Dragons finally died out and knew you still had the blood of Giants!”

I switch to a somber voice now and try to express the importance of this warning. “But now that my watch is over, it was time to warn the realms of man.”

“Warn us about what exactly?” Commander Qorgyle barks out as he exits the Maester’s tower, Aemon frowning at me and my words of libel.

“The Others are awake and marching South for the Wall.” Gasps of disbelief come from many. “Twenty years is the most you will have and I must remind the Storm King of his families oath to Lun the Last.”

Finding a flaw in my words, Aemon tries not to laugh. “The rebel? He is far from a King.”

“I’m more interested in all this ‘seeing’ you claim to have done,” Qorgyle frowns up at me, obviously still unconvinced. “Since no one’s seen a Giant in centuries.”

“Green seers still exist in the realms of men, no matter how hard the Dragons tried to stamp us out.” I don’t really have any personal dislike of the family, but they’ll be an easy target soon. It’s best if I get my licks in before it’s the popular thing to gain favor.

“My line gave up our crowns with the promise we would watch for the Others to wake, but here I find you squabbling like children?” That gets most of them angry… good. “My son Tormund is forced to do your work and get those Wildlings in line!”

I know that has Osha rolling her eyes in irritation, but everyone should be focused on me. “I will go South and ensure the end of this little spat, so we can focus on the true enemies.” I stop yelling and make everyone leans in for this part.

“The Traitor king and his ilk fled to to Western islands, we will bring them back to the Old Ways of the Seven.” Gasps of realization begin bubbling among the Night’s Watch, as my blunt words penetrate even the skulls of the most dense. “You alone of all men, have held true to the pact.”

Now the crowd is starting to look smug. “The Wall must stand strong and to ensure this is done...” With a gesture prepared on the way, I get Osha to pull the horn from my basket. I’m not sure if it’s real, but no one in the Watch will be blowing it to prove me wrong.

“I searched long for it, but the Horn of Winter’s End belongs here with you.” Twisting things just enough for my needs, I add to the horn’s name. “When the King of the Night is finally gone from this world, that is when the Wall’s watch ends.”

Commander Qorgyle has to hold Aemon back with an arm to bar his way. “Rayder, Mormont!” He calls out hurriedly, his voice filled with confusion. “Get Bigfoot here to the Umbers! They want to confirm this ‘miracle’ themselves and I want this problem off my hands.”


…


We’re marched through the gift at a cantor, only slowing to a trot once the ruins of Queenscrown come into view. Mance seems to be intrigued by my claims and is trying to get as much information from Osha as he can get.

“So your brother is King beyond the Wall?”

She snorts and shakes her head firmly no. “Dad already told you, he’s Baron below the Bridge.” Perfect Osha, you’re a natural at this. “Tormund’s just getting those who will follow our oaths and giving the rest of the Giants a place to rally.” You aren’t even twitching when you call me Dad anymore, this might just work.

“I just find it hard to imagine,” Admits Jeor while he’s engrossed with tossing berries for Teddy. “A Canyon deeper than the wall and half a mile across…”

“We build things big, too bad the Children are better at tearing them down.” I decide it’s time to test the limits of my Greenseer claims. “You have a son, Jorah I believe is his name?”

When Jeor whirls on Mance with concern in his eyes, Mance is quick to assure him of saying nothing to me. “Aye… how do you know that?”

“I see two futures for the Island of Bears,” He may not be entirely convinced, but Jeor does signal for me to continue. “One ends in his marriage to Dragon’s spy. She hails from the house of the Highest Tower and will bring only dishonor to Jorah.”

“My son would never bring dishonor to our house!” He’s a good father and defends his son instantly.

I can’t squeeze water from a rock, but maybe I can steer the Mormonts away from them.“Lynesse will shackle the Bears honor, the same as he will then shackle men in his lands.”

“Doubt me all you wish,” Not really caring now that the warning has been given, I shrug and give him more to think about in the years to come.

“But when I return with the stolen Stark and the Realm has a King with an antler crown… maybe you will think again of my dreams of green.” It looks like he’s sucking on a lemon, but he doesn’t continue the argument.

The farther South we travel, the more smells that begin to flood my nose. The trees no longer are only Evergreens and Weirwoods, now I can smells leaves of too many trees to count. The dirt gives way to hardy grass and the odor of sheep makes my stomach growl.

I manage to catch the whiff of horses coming towards us, mixed with the scent of men and metal. My companions catch sight of the party coming North long before I do, but I notice it’s a few minutes after I smell the Umbers.

​

 

Chapter 6: On The Road Again
283 AC
​

My Ranger escort is quick to relieve themselves of us, giving Crowfood clear instructions to bring us to Winterfell. The chaos I created with the promise of an end to the Watch, will by now have spread to Eastwatch and the Shadow Tower.

It takes maybe five minutes of praising the Umbers as the First Hearth against the darkness, but it has the six men with Mors amazed. Mors is not as easily convinced, but his scent is becoming less hostile by the mile.

He doesn’t seem pleased by Osha’s wildness or her how accustomed as she is with what he calls ‘man’s work’. Wait till the rest of my girls come South, the Amazons will really shake things up.

“Best set up camp for the night,” Mors barks out from behind Osha, as the two lead the way on his dappled grey mare. The Umbers’ mounts are definitely bred larger than the ones at Wall, making me compare them with a draft horse.

Bless her heart, Osha turns back to her grandfather. “Scared of the dark?” The cocky smirk on her lips have Crowfood shocked into silence. “I can hold your hand if you are.”

“Ha!” He barks out with an amused chuckle that becomes a hearty cough. “Maybe you really are an Umber.”

“Course I am, otherwise Dad wouldn’t have saved mom.” She fires back with the rehearsed line, no hesitation in her voice at all.

“She smelled like a Giant and now I can tell from which family line.” Interrupting with a deep inhale, I nod in confirmation. “She smelled just like you, I’m only sorry I couldn’t save her from the Others.”

Mors ties his horse off on a branch and gives me my first grin. “If all this is true, any Umber would want our kid saved first.”

His men set the camp up and I amuse him with hastily invented tales of his daughter. I didn’t know her name, but thankfully his men do not have silent tongues. Elaena was not a name I would have guessed on my own, that guardsmen will need to be rewarded.

“Glad we finally seem to agree on something.” Laying down on my side gives the men a windshield, allowing them to get a fire roaring in minutes. “Wake me when the sun is up, I’ll take last watch.”

Closing my eyes and feigning sleep is easy, Mors and his men are far to engrossed with Osha’s own tales to care about me. Teddy curls up at the back of my neck, so I pour the wolf pups on top of him and start to breathe rhythmically.

“If he’s from so far away, how can he speak so good?” Mors is the only one still doubting my claims and he makes sure to keep his voice low on the far side of the fire.

“Ma taught him, took him years to stop making a fool of himself though.” Improvises Osha and I can hear the smirk in her voice. “He still calls all the mountains we see hills.”


…


The smell of predators approaching wakes me with sudden clarity. I’m not sure what exactly it is in a smell that makes a creature on the active hunt stand out, but it makes the smell of dirty men easy to pick up.

The smell of blood and shit comes from where Mors’ man was keeping watch near the horses and I can only be glad the scent is yet to reach us. When the foul smell of the lead Wildling nears Osha and Mors, I pull my legs up to my chest.

Startled by what he thought only a rock pile moving, the man about to steal Osha takes the full force of my right foot. His body crunches from the impact and is sent flying across the camp. The man’s sudden flight is only ended when he crashes into a tree just out of my sight.

“Oath-breakers!” I roar in false rage, the only emotion I really feel is fear for Osha. When did that happen?

Crowfood and his five remaining men are on their feet instantly, weapons in hand only a fraction of a second slower than Osha herself. She grabs the closest burning log and heaves it into the darkness towards the horses.

The embers leaves an arc of red light in the air, highlighting seven shadows attempting to circle us. I don’t need the light and clamber to my feet with another roar, drawing the Wildling’s eyes back to myself.

“You swore to serve my son and yet you cowards fled the second my back was turned?” My words only confuse the raiders, but they do reassure the Umber men who rush for the nearest attackers. “Now you come for my daughter and kin, only death awaits you now!” Can’t have any survivors squealing on me now, can I?

Teddy charges at the man near my back, leaving me free to impress Mors with the final three by the horses. It took the steeds a while to become accustomed to me on the road, but once I made it clear they weren’t food they seemed eager to take licks from my salty hands.

I do something similar now and share the feeling of danger, making all seven buck wildly. One Wildling is killed instantly from a kick to the head while another wishes he was. His back is broken but I need him silenced and crush him underfoot in my own charge.

I grab my final foe by the arm and spin him like a flail. I feel his arm dislocated by the second rotation and ignore the smell of the man pissing himself. Before I accidentally tear his arm off, I fling him into the sky and lose sight of him against the night sky.

His scream of terror echoes above us as he reaches the height of the arc, before his scream grows in volume on his descent. It wasn’t planned, but morning will leave all of Umbers’ men impressed to find the Wildling pierced atop a pine tree.

“Is Osha safe?” I take on a tone of worry, even though I can smell she is fine beside Mors.

Crowfood is shocked by how fast I tore through two men and I think he’s well aware who spooked his horses trained for war. “...Aye.”

“I don’t smell anymore, but I’ll go for a walk and make sure.” I wave for Teddy to stay behind with Osha and the Pups and head into the woods. Every girl should have a teddy bear.

“Make sure he only does that to Wildlings,” Mors orders one of his men who gulps and rushes after me.

His weapon smells clean of blood and I chuckle down at the nervous Umber man. “You just gotta get that blade wet on one of them, I’ll deal with the rest. I Need to impress Mors, or Osha’s wedding feast will be awkward.”


…


We find two more groups of Wildlings this night, one still searching a target is easily scattered. They flee back North when I crush three with a thrown log… well I guess it was really more of a tree.

But once my new friend Royland gives them mercy, I catch the scent of burning. A small hut, home to a shepherd we passed during the day is being attacked. With the field aflame and the bleating of panicked sheep a distraction, I nearly miss the screams from inside the house.

“Cover the door and don’t let any get out.” I growl down at Royland who gives me a far less worried nod than he wold have at the start of our hunt.

I grasp the thatch roof by two corners of the wooden frame and bend my knees. With a single mighty heave I toss the roof into the field and bellow my rage at the scene inside. Four Wildlings hold the brothers hostage and I can’t be having any of that in Umber lands.

“Fee Fie Foe Fum, I smell the blood of some Wildmen!” They try and flee, but Royland pierces the first to the door through the chest.

I reach inside with both hands, clutching a Wildling in each one. Giving them a swift death at least, I lift them from the building and ask for any last words. When one only cries and the other stabs my hand, I slam them both against the packed dirt outside.

“Sorry about the roof...” I realized I could have handled this quite a bit better and blush a dark magenta. “I’ll uh… go get it for you.”

Most of the thatching is gone, but the frame seems mostly intact at least. Grabbing it carefully, I place it back onto the hut with as much precision as my eyesight allows. It’s hard not to sneeze and shower everyone inside in green goo, but somehow I manage to resist.


…


It takes nearly the rest of the night, but I do gather enough straw to cover the two brother’s roof. It’s the least I could do... after I went right for plan smash and grab.

The horses are saddled and the camp is already packed up by the time Royland and I return. The bodies of the Wildings have been left piled in the embers of the fire, all except the one being feasted on in the tree.

A murder of crows has gathered and keeps their distance from the bodies I can smell smoldering. The seven bodies of black feathers have all been struck by one of Osha’s arrows, which I can already hear Mors bragging about to his men.

​