One Giant Growth Spurt (ASOIAF Giant SI)

[Flightless Man]

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.

 

[Flightless Man]

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.

​

 

[Flightless Man]

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."






​

 

[Flightless Man]

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.
​

 

[Flightless Man]

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.

​

 

[Flightless Man]

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.

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 7: Keeping Track of Time is Hard
283 AC
​

The Godswood of Winterfell is calm when Benjen Stark leads me inside. His four and ten body makes him look far more like Jon Snow than I would have expected, but that should only make things easier for me.

He's nervous... as he has every right to be. My insistence on speaking with him alone has him cautious and I know his guardsmen are already moving to windows with a view.

Kneeling in front of the white tree and it's weeping face, is a woman in her sixties tending to a distressed teen. I can easily recognize the younger Hodor from Bran's flashback, but the word he's muttering is different.

Walder hears my approach and jerks upright with terror in his eyes. "Giles!" He jumps to his feet and tries to shield the woman smiling indulgently behind him.

"It's alright Walder, he's just too big to have his meeting in the Lord's solar." Not quite as Old Nan smiles at me, her mouth only missing two teeth to my surprise. "Sorry Lord Benjen, you know the Weirwood is the only thing that calms him when he has a fit."

"Giles," Walder agrees, his eyes watching my every move with distrust.

I smile back and do my best to calm down the kindest man in all of Planetos. "It's okay, Walder smells like a Giant." Taking a large whiff of his scent to proof my words, I nod happily in confirmation. "He's from the line of the Green Queen, he won't tell anyone what we talk about."

Giving me an expression of gratitude, Nan pulls her grandson back down to the furs. "Come on Walder, you still need to move all that hay. So let's get you calmed down, do you want to hear the story about Sir Duncan the Tall?"

"What happened to him?" I'm pretty sure everyone has seen that clip by now, so why is he calling himself Giles?

"A few years ago he had a seizure and now that's the only thing he can say." Explains Benjen in the same quiet voice I used. "It's cruel, but people are starting to just call him that as his name." He looks distraught and actually decides to vent to me.

"My brothers would have stopped it with just a look, Lyanna would have just smacked the ass out of them." That's my opening, time to be delicate.

Sitting down carefully so as not to scare the birds in the grove, I pat the ground beside me for the Stark in Winterfell. "She's what I want to speak with you about." More black birds than I would have guessed, but I guess they're just the ones Maester Walys couldn't train.

"What would you give, to have her home safely?"

His eyes flash with guilt and he only says one thing with his grief stricken voice. "Anything."

I carefully make my face take on a look of contemplation. "You aren't blameless in her disappearance… are you?"

"She needed a squire!" He blurts out, glad to finally admit his hand in everything. "One who would keep his mouth shut and look smaller than her..." Benjen looks up at me and tears start to well up in his eyes.

"I have seen many things in my lands of snow and ice." It's not the time for a big speech, but I do still need to make it sound authentic. "I know where she is and what will happen if I do nothing."

He waits with baited breath, desperate for a happy ending in my words. "What happens to her?"

"She dies." Blunt as a rock slide, I hammer home my knowledge. I need him desperate so he'll agree to my offer, but I'm starting to feel like a bad guy. "Locked in a tower Ned and the Lord of the Reeds will be the last to see her alive."

"Ned finds her?" Benjen pleads for some kind of good news.

"But far too late for her to live." I have to ease up, or I'm going to be the one breaking down. "He does save her son and keep him safe, in body if not mind."

He doesn't like me slandering his most impeccable brother and snarls back in defiance. "Ned would never treat blood poorly!"

"No, but when her bastard is possibly seen as a Blackfyre?" I smirk as his lips form a silent 'Oh'. "Your brother will taint his honor and claim his as his own, but this will only bring shame to his new lady wife..."

I trail off and let him put the pieces together himself. "Brandon's betrothed!"

"Will not like having her husbands dishonor living beside her true born children." He growls at this and I need to explain before his opinion of Catelyn forever tarnished. "Especially when Ned will not tell her the truth. Family, Duty, Honor, are Lady Cat's family words and she will never be given a chance to live up to them."

Smiling down at his conflicted scowl, I try a softer approach. "What happens to the lone wolf when winter comes?"

"It dies."

"So we mustn't allow your brother to split the pack," He looks up and locks eyes firmly with me, a new determination is flowing from him. "Which means you can't be running off to the Wall once this is over." He blinks in shock at my claim.

"...How?"

A deep rumbling laugh works its way up from my belly and I release it in the face of his utter shock. "I told you, I saw things in dreams of green. If you want your nephew both safe in body and happy in heart… you'll need to do something."

"I'll do it," He immediately blurts out, eager to do something and get rid of his overwhelming guilt.

"Good. Then while you and Osha plan your wedding, I will recover your sister." Smirking at his stunned confusion, I let another giggle slip out. "You're the youngest Stark and farthest down the line, you having a son will not be a threat to the Lady of Winterfell."

Benjen sighs but has no other options. "Do I have to?"

"I promised my girl a castle and I'm promising you a sister, seems like everyone's getting what they want here."

"But you just said I'm claiming my nephew… because I don't have a claim to this castle?"

"So I'll need to get you another one," I shrug and take on an expression of false thought. "How about something in the Reach?" His wide eyes and silent voice give me nothing to work with, so I keep making suggestions. "What about a keep in the Stormlands, or maybe Dragonstone?"

"Well, think about it or I'll just pick something I think you two will like."

I was shocked to learn the Rebellion happened over nearly a year and that the Northern banners haven't even been called yet. Ned's raven had only arrived just days before myself, letting us know he and Robert are only now leaving the Vale.

Months ahead of everything I had planned, I'm starting to realize the best route to Dorne may just be a straight march. Storm's End end won't become under seige for months, the Trident and sack of King's Landing are almost at the end of the war.

Heck, even Lyanna is months away from needing an urgent rescue. I really need to adjust my plans and prepare with the time I have before Ned arrives.

"You should call the banners for Ned, he should arrive before the last of them have gathered."

"But what if-"

I cut Benjen off with a shake of my head. "What if the Stormlands do the same as the Vale? The alliance needs the North and it needs you in the Riverlands yesterday." My words fill him with dread, but he does agree eventually.

"I'll call the banners and have them ready to march on my brother's command." He stands with me, only to frown when I motion for him to wait.

I bend at the waist, my head going all the way down to Benjen's chest. "Beyond the Wall we have too much snow and ice to kneel, this is how we seal an agreement." I'm not getting down on my knees every time I meet someone, this is going to have to be enough for the Southern Lords.

"You bring my sister home safe and I'll marry Osha," He agrees finally and follows me in a bow, the crowns of our heads briefly touching.

"Good, now I'm going to need some armor… I'm kind of a big target."

Wincing at having to reveal any fault with Winterfell, Benjen is forced to admit a flaw in my idea. "We don't have nearly enough metal for that."

"Layers of cloth will be have to do but make sure it's all dyed black." I smile and start to get excited over having real clothes again. "I'll need a seven colored cloak, in honor of the Old Ones. Ironwood will have to do for extra protection on my head, shoulders, knees, and toes."

Benjen gives me a strange look when I sing the last few words and adds the parts I forgot to protect properly. "Shins, hands and forearms all need it as well. It's not going to hurt much if you hit someone with a foot of padding."

"Oh I need a wagon!" I clap my hands in glee, making most of the birds scatter to the sky. "A bunch of wheels and a few pole I can slide them all onto!" I hurry to my feet, eager to get these preparations underway as soon as possible. "If you have any pitch, I need as many barrels as you can spare… I'm going to make an entrance in this war."​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 8: Lessons With the She-Bear
283 AC
​

"That's not going to work for much longer," Maege Mormont pulls the wheezing Benjen out of the mud. "You're bigger than Lord Benjen here." But he's hit his growth spurt now and will be looking down on you in a few moons."

She shows Osha the proper way to use a mace against a bigger foe, growling at every error fierce enough to cow even Teddy. Maege has shown me a few techniques, but had to admit even she can't teach me much.

"Go fer his knees and hands first," She explains with an eager grin, before showing Osha how to do exactly that. "Then ya can go and cave in his rib cage while he's laying flat on his back."

"He's gotta fight like a wolf with his sword, snapping at the weak points in your armor." Laughing with his sister, Jorah doesn't seen to have been informed of my warning. "But you and my sister have to fight like a mother bear." Or else he's a lot better at hiding his dislike of someone than I am.

Six year old Dacey takes this opening to roar like a bear and roll about on Teddy's back. When she nibbles on his ear, only Maege's intense stare has the bear settle back down in annoyance.

"Male bears are bigger." Maege hooks her mace behind a distracted Jorah's heel and flips him onto his back. "So we gotta be aggressive and make our own openings." The mud splatters everyone close by, but the kids are far too amused for anyone to seriously mind.

"Well said Maege and thank you for showing Benjen how dangerous a she-bear can be," Shocking even me, Ned Stark has managed to return to Winterfell unannounced. "But please forgive my confusion my Lady."

He has what has to be over a hundred men behind him. "I came home to call my banners, only to find the Manderlys ready to escort me home from the Bite." I can recognize the merman sigil on many shields, with the crossed keys of House Locke also among them.

"Ned!" Benjen forgets himself and drops his sword in the mud, throwing himself at his brother. "You're alright."

"I am," He pats the younger Stark on the back, before letting him go and giving me long stare of consideration. "But how did you know to do all this?"

"Duke Bigfoot saw everything in his green dreams," Benjen throws all of the blame on me. But I can't really blame the kid, not after everything I've thrown on him the last few weeks. "He's going to bring Lyanna home!"

Ned's eyes go wide for half a second, before hardening into deadly focus. "You know where my sister is..." He lets the words hang in the air, a definite warning to not screw this up.

"I know where she will be," I explain slowly. "My son has remained in the North to rally our people against the coming winter, but we keep our oaths." My words echo in the courtyard, no one else has spoken since Ned announced his arrival. "While he deals with the Wildlings who have abandoned the First Ways, I have come to aid the Storm King."

"Robert?" The new Lord Stark realizes instantly, proving he isn't dumb by any means. He's simply inexperienced with the politics used in the South, like those same Southerners would be here. Heck.. all of them would be equally helpless in Dorne.

"I could not avenge his parents, but I will rescue his bride!" I bellow at the crowd, not even a fiber of doubt in my voice as I get caught up in my own hype. "Because the true war is coming and if the Realms of Men are not prepared…" I let the words hang heavy in the air, as all listening lean forward for the rest. "The night will not just be long, it will be eternal,"

"We're all just supposed to believe you know the future?" The cold and calculating voice of Roose Bolton interrupts my speech. "And you have only now chosen to make use of this..."

While the crowd starts to mutter words of agreement, I just lean against my massive maul. "I don't see everything and not always the same way." Sometimes I watch the show and sometimes I read the books. "But the big events are almost always the same. My line swore to warn our descendants when the Children made their final attempt to purge us all and here I have come!"

"If you wish proof of my claims, send a raven to the Storm King." Let's get me some events that my presence should yet to have had any effect on. "Robert's battle against his traitorous banner-men should be soon decided at the Hall of Summer."

Ned waves for someone to fetch the Maester and pen the letter. "In my dreams he loses seven times, but only wins thrice against Randyll Tarly at the Ford of Ashes." I go for a somber tone now. "In only one dream does my kin emerge uninjured, but that is also how many times I see him slain."

"Make sure you and your men get a good nights rest," Wasting no more time, Ned starts bellowing orders to the assembled Lords and Ladies. "We leave for Moat Cailin on the morn. I'll host you all for supper tonight and your oaths can be sworn to me then."

"I'd best give you my gift now, I know the little Lord has been eager for his own." I give Benjen the signal and he dashes into the kennels, emerging with the pups chosen for himself and Ned.

"Look what Dok Tur brought us from beyond the Wall!" He's claimed the brown furred one for himself and thrusts the excitable grey one at his brother. "This one's for you, he's the alpha of the pack."

"How many men do you see us needing?" Ned seems willing to believe me for now, at least until Robert's route can be confirmed.

"I'll need six, but you're a Lord Paramount now..." He goes a shade paler. "You're needed on the field commanding your army."

Ned attempts to argue, but my sensible words have been rehearsed many times already. "I'll need faces Lyanna trusts and people you know are loyal to the Starks before any other." All of his banner-men puff up at this, hoping desperately to be chosen for this vital task.

"I assume you have some in mind already?" Man, everyone really does underestimate those from the North.

"Jorah Mormont I have seen achieve honor on many fields, I would have him come on this task." I turn to his sister and give a pleading look. "While Maege I would ask to train my daughter as a warrior fierce as a bear."

Ned sees no reason to argue and makes his own suggestions "My sister would trust few more than Howland Reed... he should go with you."

"I'll need an Umber with me, so I can have my kin teach me your ways." Scratching my chin, I consider who else could be of use. "Once we meet with the Arryn and Baratheon forces in Riverun, I should take an escort from each of them as well."

A memory flashes before my eyes, one of Lysa Tully suckling a child far to old for it. "You had best send Lord Arryn a raven too, his heir should not be marching beside him in battle. If he does, the Sept of Stones will be his grave."

"All of these wild claims..." Roose speaks, his chilling voice only just above a whisper.

"Will be either proven true by time we reach Riverrun, or my lies will be exposed for all to see."

Exhaling slowing, Ned weighs everything I have said in his mind. "If it's all falsehoods, we will soon know. But humoring him while we march does us no harm."

"If my words prove untrue," If that happens I'm screwed and the best I can hope for is a quick death. "In the name of Thor – Warrior of the Seven Kings and Queens of Old – I swear my life as forfeit to the justice of Ice."

"Well let's hope it doesn't come to that," Ned snorts at my theatrics, but is clearly impressed by what he thinks is forthrightness. "I don't think even Ice will get through your neck in one swing and that would just bring dishonor right back on me."

Quirking my lips into a smile, I try to get the glare out of Osha's eyes. "What if I put my head on a table for you, would that make it any easier?"

"Might be better If I let Robert borrow Ice for that, he could really put his back into it." He pauses and frowns at the Broken Tower. "What happened to the door?"

Benjen comes to my rescue. "I had it made into a shield for Dok Tur. But I made sure it was stained grey… didn't have time to get it engraved though."

"It's big enough I still think I should quarter it with your allies in the South's colors." I'll have some time once we get to Riverrun, Hopefully Hoster Tully can get someone to spruce up my shield. "And have the symbol of all four animals on the front, united for the world to see." If that doesn't help my cause with at least four of the kingdoms, I have no idea what else I can do.





Notes: I know wolves don't really have Alphas how it is comely understood, but people in Westeros definitely still believe it.

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 9: Moment Of Truth
283 AC
​

Ned frowns at me as we part way before Riverrun. "I should be going with you."

"Spend this time with the Lady Catelyn, it will be next year before you have this chance again" I chuckle at the sound of the Tully gate clanking open. "The Storm King can finally put your doubt to rest upon his arrival."

"You warned me a Giant was with you, but I admit this is not what I expected." Hoster Tully greets us with all three of his children lined up quietly behind him. "I thought you just had someone the size of that Clegane knight with you."

His eyes trail over my new attire and I can see him already far more pleased with this alliance. The nearly foot thick wool is dyed the color of Blackwater Bay, with Ironwood sewn inside almost like studded armor.

The massive antlers look regular size on my Weirwood Helm and my cloak of seven stripes casts an impressive sight for the Tully's first impression of me. Hoster's gaze is drawn to my shield, his eyes shining in pride at the quarter displaying a trout.

"Desmond Grell will show you the way," Waving forward one of his men, Hoster goes over his credentials. "He's my new Master of Arms, so please try and bring him back in one piece."

"My thanks Lord Tully." Giving him a shallow bow, I move my smile towards Catelyn and her siblings. "You have beautiful girls and I only hope my own find half as good a match one day."

Grabbing my basket that is already growing too small for a pair of wolves, I place it on the ground and remove the lid. The black and white wolves come out at once, eager to smell this new place filled with game.

"The black wolf was to be Brandon's, but I was a month too late in my arrival." Pushing the pup towards a stiff backed Cat, I manage to hide my amusement. "She should be yours now, so you and the North will both know you are a Stark."

Coughing behind me, Ned interrupts my attempt at earning good favor. "Aren't you forgetting something Duke Bigfoot?"

"Oh yeah..." Sighing in embarrassment over being called out like this, I hope Frey hate here really is as bad as it seemed. "Lord Tully. I must beg your forgiveness and promise to make any repairs you deem necessary to your land."

His eyes narrow in concern for what I could mean. "What happened?"

"Lord Stark's men needed to cross the Green Fork, but I would not allow him to pay the Freys." He looks happy, but Hoster is doing his best to look impartial. "I decided it was more prudent to dam the river, but the Freys did not wait for me to remove the logs."

I feign shame and kick at my heel to really sell it. "When his men removed too many logs at once, the rest all came loose at the same time."

"Lord Frey rules over an island now," Ned scowls at me, but is shocked when Hoster only laughs. "The bridge is will need serious repairs."

"I told you I was dragging my feet the whole way for a reason," And dragging my maul behind me created a foot deep trench. "By now it should all of have drained away from his castle and started turning his fields into marshland."

"You turned the Green Fork into a swamp!" Hoster isn't laughing anymore.

"Only part of it, after a mile or two it'll all flow back into the riverbed."

Now he's back to laughing. "Well that's fine. Wonderful even… I think this calls for a feast!"

…


"You're sure Lord Baratheon is here?" Sir Grell leads us into the town cautiously, desperately hoping this is when I am proven wrong.

"He should be in one of the brothels, but you're the ones who need to find him." I point to the Southeast where an enormous dust cloud is growing above the road into Stony Sept. "My job is giving you all the time you need."

"Get inside and lock your doors, the Mad Kings curs are here to kill you all!" I bellow into the streets and walk over to the Sept. Reaching for the rope, I let the bells carry my warning even farther.

"That has to be nearly five hundred men, this is suicide!" Desmond is close to panicking, but a quick slap from Mors has him back to his senses.

Chuckling even as I feel real fear for the first time in weeks, I wave them off. "They are kind of out numbered, should I ask them to come back with another five hundred?"

Ignoring Mors' guffaws, I push my wagon to the last of the buildings. Jorah follows me like planned and starts making his best calculations.

"Looks like only infantry and they're bunched up pretty tightly," The charming Mormont Lord climbs into the wagons and begins pouring pitching onto one of my wheel poles.

Stabbing into the other two barrels he whistles for me to grab one. I grab it and square my feet on each side of the stone paved road. It's big enough to create a blob of slightly lighter brown, so I heave the barrel in a granny toss.

It sails through the air and I can hear blobs of resin splashing onto the ground below. I don't see the real chaos, but Jorah's cheer is all the proof I need. Grabbing the next barrel I repeat the process, this time I hear the disgusted yells of the soldiers who got hit.

Sliding the first pitch covered wheel off the pole, Jorah is quick to light it with his torch. He directs my throws and by the third… my flaming discs connect with the scattering forces.

Flames snap to life and break up the marching soldiers, but the one commanding them isn't willing to back down. Connington's voice can be heard rallying his men even as my fourth throw crashes into the man standing feet away from him.

"Are they still coming?" The screams are making it hard to make out Jon's voice now, so I'm forced to rely on Jorah's eyes.

"A little more than half are trying to reform and charge us from the left." He gags on the smell and I can only wish for my old nose right now. "The rest are either dead… or they wish they were right now."

"Light the last barrel and pour it on the hay." I grab the handles of my custom built wagon and wince when the flames roar to life before my face. "Just stay behind me and make sure I crash into as many as possible."

"Not like I'm going first," Laughing from the tense situation, Jorah just draws Longclaw and gives me the signal. "I'll let the guy crazy enough to hold fire lead the way. You should take all the arrows this way."

I can smell the bodies of those burning nearby as I charge for the soldiers, who only now realize the danger behind the cart. Letting go of the cart causes it to begin bucking while it roles over and through the formation.

The flaming hay is thrown into the air and comes raining down on anyone within twenty feet of it's path. I can hear dozens of swords being drawn in anger, but the smoke has my eyes nearly worthless.

"How many are left?" I double check with Jorah and draw my tree nearly two story weapon.

"Only a hundred or so."

"You think you can handle Connington?"

Jorah snarls in anticipation, but still manages to be witty. "I'd rather take my chances with him, I'll leave you his friends."

As soon as he darts behind me I swing with my full force. My maul makes over a dozen bone shattering impacts in my first arc and I just keep doing what Maege showed me.

Fluid as I can be with only a month of practice, I manage to keep a constant flow of deadly figure eights going. In less than a minute I've blown away most of the smoke, which only makes the devastation morbidly clear.

Only seven men are still standing within my eyesight and only nine can be smelt running into the treeline. I gaze down at the terrified soldiers and roar, letting my spittle fly into the nearest ones face.

This breaks them and the last five men abandon Jon Connington to his fate. He probably would have gone with them, if Longclaw wasn't in his hand and about to enter Jorah's back.

"Four!" I don't even think about trying to take Jon captive, not that it was ever high on my list of priorities. My maul connects with his shocked face only a second before the rest of his body crumples against the stone.

His body flies through the air like a boneless chicken in a tall arc over the trees, coming down somewhere in the woods. Longclaw clatters onto the road, with one of Connington's arms still grasping the hilt.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 10: I Told You So
283 AC
​

"Do you believe me now?" I Grumble down at Jorah as he pulls Connington's fingers off of Longclaw.

He looks around the smoldering field and takes in the hundred or so survivors in desperate need of medical care. "Kind of hard to doubt all of this." Pausing his no doubt witty remark, Jorah instead points to my shoulder with a concerned frown. "You might want to pat yourself out."

Realizing the smell of burning wool is coming from me, I belly flop into the dirt and roll. "Is it out yet?"

The belly laughs coming from Stony Sept have me sit up in a panic, worried someone got behind us. The imposing figure of Robert Baratheon is nothing like his pathetic state in his middle ages. He looks every inch the warrior of legend he was hailed, making me see only way to make him like me.

"Does my nose deceive me, or is that the blood of the Storm King?" My words have Robert grinning widely, while Howland and Mors escort him towards me. "It is good to finally meet some of my Southern blood, I have traveled far to pledge myself to your cause."

He's lapping this up! I grin eagerly as my stroking of Robert's ego works perfectly, his lack of confusion shows he received at least one of Ned's ravens.

"Ned told me to avoid this place but Conning-Cunt forced our hand." He watches my fancy bow with an amused quirking of his eyebrow. "You have my thanks for the aid today and if Lord Reed's words are true… You will have anything from me on my Lyanna's safe return."

"You won't have to worry about the Hand anymore," A grinning Jorah holds up the floppy limb. "It's all that remains of the Griffon after his attempt to fly away."

"The two of you faced down his entire force?"

I slap a hand against my chest and bark out with as much good cheer as I can muster. "What else would you expect from your kin and his Northern champion?" Jorah is a good fighter now and he becomes a lot better over the years. If he's going to throw his life away in some form of mindless devotion to a pretty girl, I should make sure he looks to one of mine.

"Lord Mormont I assume?" Robert struts forward, his wound barely even slowing down his cocky gait. "Kneel before the Storm King." He grins at those words and brings his hammer down on each of Jorah's shoulders.

When he finishes knighting an ecstatic Jorah, Robert turns to me next. "And now for you. What is it they called you, a Duke?"

"A knighthood should be earned through a cause that makes him bleed for the Realms," I lift my arms, showing off my lack of bloodstains for all of his vanguard to see. "This war is not over, I will have many more chances to earn this honor."

"That's what I like to hear, now let's double time it to Riverrun!" He hollers boisterously to his assembled men, all two hundred of them just as eager to be behind walls. "I can't miss Ned's wedding, that would just bring bad luck to this entire rebellion."


…


We meet the Vale forces on the road back to Riverrun, with a wary Jon Arryn bringing his steed beside Robert's own. He seems grateful for my aid and prior warnings, but very aware of how much havoc I can cause.

"You think I should marry a Frey?" He tries not to look offended by my words, but Robert is not so kind with his booming laugh.

"They're already looking for any chance to turn against Lord Tully and you just need a fertile bride." My words make enough sense that he signals for me to continue. "Why not bind three thousand swords to your armies and ensure they can not sheath themselves in your backs?"

My warning of the Frey's arriving late is actually being taken seriously by those in power. Both Arryn and Robert see at once the danger of them turning against us instead.

"But that still leaves Lady Lysa unwed, which was Lord Tully's reason for offering her hand to me."

"Doesn't my kin have two brothers, would Lord Stannis not bind the alliance just as tightly?" I smirk as the idea flowers in Robert's head and he sees another way to bind his family even closer to Ned's own.

"I'll have to speak with Hoster when we arrive, we can get Lady Lysa sent back with an escort immediately." The future King grins widely, but I remember what's going to happen to Storm's End very soon.

"Make sure you send a few months worth of food, the Storm and Riverlands are those most under threat of attack."

Jon reminds his once ward. "Lord Lannister has not yet declared for the Mad King, we'll be forced to leave a garrison at Riverrun or fear losing it to ambush from behind."

"His son is held hostage, the very same way Dorne is being forced to serve." If I can just nudge his anger a degree or two to the side, things may not be as bleak for this world as I had always imagined. It seems like people are smiling more than they ever did in the show, maybe I am doing something right.

"Dragons are all the same and just need a good slaying!" Red is visible in Robert's eyes and his rage make even me raise my eyebrows in concern for his health.

"I agree..." My words stop his rant and I explain what I hope is a new line of thought. "But killing women and children brings only shame to ones with the strength of Giants."

His rage begins to surge back again, but at least Robert isn't spitting his words yet. "If I let them scurry of and hide, they'll whelp a new brood and be back in a generation!"

"Good," He can't seem to comprehend what I mean, so I take advantage of his shocked silence to press on. "Wouldn't it be horribly boring to have a reign without a single war? Imagine sitting on a cold metal chair for the rest of your life… never again to wield a weapon against a foe, or gain true glory on the field of battle."

"But if I let Rhaella and Elia flee with the runts..." He starts to understand.

Jon Arryn smiles at me for the first time since we met on the road, glad to finally have Robert thinking long term about everything. "You get a war every fifteen years or so and a way to keep Westeros united against the Targaeryans."

"It will show which families are loyal to the Dragons, letting me purge the Kingdoms of those who would see Rhaegar win this rebellion." The soon to be King is nodding eagerly now at the idea.

I'm going to have to take a chance here, but I can't really see what else Harrenhal was for. "Was that not the original plan Lord Arryn, before Rhaegar showed his own brand of madness?" I have no idea what really happened, but this is the version of events that will help me the most.

"Aerys and his son have both Dorne and the Reach." Both Lords scowl at the reminder. Not to mention his Crownland forces and those loyalists from your own lands."

"What have you seen?" Jon Arryn demands, unable to ignore my claims… no matter if he believes me or not.

"Kings Landing engulfed in green fire, so hot not even the stones are left standing." It might have been years later and by the hand of someone else, but they don't need to know that. It's always more believable to speak a half truth, so it's really fortunate I did see these things play out in the show… however poorly.

"A Lannister slays the Mad King while taking the city for the rebels, but only after the mighty Stag slays he wicked Dragon" I nearly giggle at the shock in both men's eyes. "I have also seen the Ironborn raid from the North to the Westerlands as they claim a King of their own." Won't happen for a decade, but the preparations for them to choose a side should already be visible.

Frowning at the idea of the Ironborn's ability to strike nearly anywhere, Lord Arryn makes a realization. "We need Tywin and we need a way to safely take the city. Green flames can only mean the city is hoarding Wildfire for our arrival."

"Cut off the city by sea once his son is dead and the small folk will tear Aerys from his throne themselves." Jorah seems to finally be over his earlier shock and chimes in with his own idea.

"I might have a way we can solve a few of those things at once." Casterly Rock is on the way to Dorne, I can afford to treat with Tywin for a week or two.

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 11: Drink and Be Merry
283 AC
​

"This is bloody disgusting..." Grunts Mors as he removes the excess with his knife and hands Howland the stomach and several feet of small intestine. "You really expect a man to put his mouth on this?"

Howland takes it from the messy Umber and pours water inside, flushing out most of the mess. "Didn't think Umbers would back down from a challenge, but I guess Jorah and I can show these Southerners what real courage is."

He ties a knot in the end of the dangling bit and holds open the stomach for Jorah to pour in the ale. Once it's filled, it gets set aside and placed with the other already finished beer bladders in my palm.

"Hurry up, the cooks won't be distracted long!" I hiss down at them, as I see Grell and the cooks heading back to the tent. "Grab the ones you finished and lets go have some fun."

We find Robert amid the heaviest drinking, surprisingly with no maiden on his knee. I can only assume without my promise of Lyanna being returned alive Robert had already given up hope, even if he kept on a brave face for his forces.

Mors grabs one of the filled stomachs and tosses it at the Baratheon Lord. "Hope you aren't squeamish, we got us a Giant's drinking game to try out."

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He looks to Ned on his right for an answer, but the Stark is far to interested in his new wife.

"Bite it above the knot and cut that part off," I grin as he does so and lift the filled stomach above his head. "And drink as much as you can." Squeezing the makeshift beer bong between my fingers, the ale is forced into Robert's waiting mouth.

He gags at first, but soon manages to send the liquid right down his throat. He nearly drains the stomach and lets out a mighty belch. "Another!" His approval leads to the rest being handed out to eager feasters, with Jorah showing everyone how to refill one.

It's easy to see how overwhelmed Ned and his new bride are, they haven't even had five minutes to themselves once the planning began. "Go sneak off for a bit and show Lord Stark your home, you two don't need a chaperon anymore."

Catelyn's eyes light up with that information and she takes a grateful Ned by the hand. "I'll keep everyone distracted." I walk away from them and lift up two full barrel of wines, some of the last Arbor White in the Riverlands.

"I've heard the Umbers can really drink, I challenge you to prove it here and now!" Slamming one barrel in front of the Great Jon Umber, I poke a hole in the top of my own with a thumb. "All those with Giant blood showing are welcome to help you, because my barrel will still be dry first."

I can smell Ned and Cat slipping away towards the path by the river, heading down to the shallow pool I had dug for the children to swim in safely. In total eleven men face my challenge, nine of them being Umbers.

"I'll knight every damn one of you when we drink my 'uncle' here under the table!" Roars Robert as he joins the bravest men at the feast… or maybe the dumbest. He's taken to simply calling me uncle, because in his own words 'It's hurting my head trying to remember all these greats'.

"He's our kin too, stop trying to hog him!" Whoresbane Umber barks back in good humor. "He's more than big enough for all of us to claim a drop of his blood."

Grinning back, Robert seems pleased with the cocky answer. "You really are distant kin, too bad you have no daughters the same age as Renly."

"You can't have Osha, she hasn't told me who she wants me to steal for her yet." Hopefully that keeps anyone with sons from pestering me.

"You have kids?" Filling up his sixth cup, Robert has a pleased grin. "My girl is three, she already laughs like thunder."

"My wife was taken from me before we could have children of our own, so I began gathering the children of the stolen Northern Lords."

Howland is quick witted and notices what that really means before anyone else present. "You raise these wards as your own children, fully intent on treating each one as true born." His words are not a question, only an astute observation that has the listeners gasping in shock.

"I may not be the last Giant, but the Children of the Forest have ensured our culture ends with me." I love Wun Wun, but he just doesn't have the mental capacity for remembering all of my lies. "When making our bodies small did not break us, they next moved to making my peoples minds small."

Sniffling more than normal to really sell my grief, I explain away the difference between me and the Giants I hope to bring South soon. "My people's minds are forever stuck as children, which is why I have come South alone to have a safe home made ready."

"What kind of space do you need for that?" Robert keeps me talking.

"I've been told the islands called the Stepstones are as yet unclaimed, I would bring the remnants of the land bridge back into the Seven Realms."

Downing his current drink and he considers the idea. "You'll need a lot of ships to transport your people, which our alliance has a severe lack of." He may not have a mind for economics, but he knows how to plan an invasion.

"What if I can take Dragonstone and use that as my launching point?" I have a few ideas on how to achieve this, especially considering how ready the Royal Fleet was to change sides.

"If you can take the island by yourself, I'll name you Lord." He chuckles at the idea, even as I consider what many would believe near impossible. "That should be all the fleet you need to bring your people South and deal with those pirates. Lord Paramount of the Stepstones has a nice ring to it."

"I'll get to work on that only once I have Lyanna safe." All the pieces in my head are starting to connect in ways I hadn't expected possible, but am more than willing to take advantage of as they present themselves.

"Which means I need to leave in the morning," I know he alliance sits around in the Riverlands for nearly half a year, but I have no idea how long talking with Tywin will take. "I hope my words can reach Lord Lannister, it's only a shame we can no longer offer Lord Arryn's hand."

His own wedding was held alongside Ned's, to one of the many fertile Frey women offered to secure the Frey forces. I think her name is Walda, but that doesn't make it any easier on me considering how many of her kin have the same name.

"You'll need to wait a few days at least," Mors interrupts with a smirk. "It's almost an embarrassment how bad your 'armor' looks." I may be wearing a toga made from some of Lord Tully's curtains, but my first attempt at armor did not survive it's first battle.

The second attempt will keep the iron wood, but the layers of wool will be bound tightly this time. Leather is even being used on the outer one, hopefully this will avoid having it fall apart in a single battle.

I won't be able to wheel around a massive wagon, crossing the Reach will require at least an attempt at stealth. Realizing my mouth is dry, I glance over at my very drunk competitors and growl. My barrel is still half full, but Robert is holding an empty one above his head.

He does as promised and knights his eleven companions, even the unconscious Umber. I take the loss with good humor, it's my fault for always talking too much anyway.

"When is Lady Lysa going to Storm's End?" I realize I haven't seen her since the beginning of the feast.

"My brother's bride will be leaving in a few days with her escort, hopefully she can finally teach him how to smile." He giggles at his own words and claps in excitement. "I have a splendid idea!"

His tone is gleeful, but I'm still worried for some reason. "What is it?"

"How many charging Knights do you think you can take?"

"In a fight?"

Laughing at my concerned face, Robert explains exactly what he means. "No, no. We get you on one side of that pond you dug for the brats and some knights on the other side. Give you a rope and tie the other end to each of the riders."

I consider it and find I'm actually curious myself. "I'm not sure, lets start with five."

"Ten gold for anyone brave enough to try!" He gives me no chance to reconsider and eagerly calls out for knights to challenge me. "Another twenty for the ones who succeed!" That works and it looks like a lot of armor will be in need of oiling tonight.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 12: Grumkins and Snarks
283 AC
​

The gates of Casterly Rock clank open slowly, while one of the Lannister brothers observes my party with what smells like thirty armed men behind him. The interested gleam in his eyes and lack of any facial hair mark him as Gerion, but I have been wrong before.

Long flowing blonde hair and a perfectly defined jawline make him handsome. But the emerald green eyes and flawless skin make him one of the prettiest people I have seen since waking up in that cramped cavern.

"The rumors are true, the rebels really do have a Giant fighting for them." His voice is absent of Tywin's scorn and Kevan's deference, so my initial assumption is proving itself correct. "I wonder what reason a party from all four Kingdoms could be interested in?"

"Well for one thing," I speak first, with none of the exuberance my party of six are accustomed to. "It's five Kingdoms, I just haven't had time to gather my people." My calm and respectful delivery has Mors gaping like a fish, but thankfully Howland puts an end to that for me. "After we've finished throwing down the Targaeryans, I have already been given leave to claim the Stepstones."

Gerion blinks at the how easy I share my information, but I can see him eager for the adventure. "Really now? That sounds like quite the undertaking for what… a few thousand at most?"

Let's really establish my power base the meeting with the real power of the Rock, It should make my bargaining position one of at least near equal strength. "Over a hundred thousand Free Folk, but nearly a third have abandoned the ancient oaths and wage war against the Wall as those called Wildlings."

"But if you mean my own people…" I grow somber for this part of my speech. "We have fallen to less than a thousand and the Children have ensured we shall be some of the last."

"Giants and Children of the Forest," The condescending voice of who can only be Cersei intrudes on the conversation, her six guards desperately trying to call her back inside the safety of the castle. "What's next, shall we prepare a room for the Grumkins and Snarks?"

Oh that's a good idea! "Grumkins are something not seen since the Children flooded the Neck, but Snarks are very much present." I pat a startled Mors on the back and nearly knock him over. "Snarks are simply those men whose Giant blood makes itself known."

I take a deep whiff of the air for show, but am almost distracted by the fruity scent of her perfume. If I thought Gerion was a pretty man, his niece makes him look like a caricature. I look to one of the men standing in formation behind Gerion and recognize the large teen with a concealed face.

"You have one of my kin sworn to your service already, or has the South simply forgotten what those names mean?" I smirk at Cersei's shock expression that swiftly reforms into poised scorn.

"And what does that make a Grumkin?"

"They are similar, but instead show the blood of the Children in their veins." I hope this has some kind of positive effect. "The three wishes granted by them led to nearly every line containing a Grumkin being slain."

Dropping her scorn, Cersei tries a friendlier tone to get more answers about these 'wishes' I have claimed exist. "And how would one recognize these mut-" She corrects herself on remembering I am not a human myself. "Crossbreeds."

"If I remember correctly, the Andal word for them is Dwourf." Making it sound more like I'm pronouncing the word flour, I scrunch my face up feigning deep thought. "They have keen minds and bring great wealth to any family in which one is born."

"My people may have helped Brandon build the Wall and places like Winterfell." Trying not to laugh at Cersei's pursed lips, I continue my torrent of bullshit. "But the Grumkins who sided with the families in which they are born… they are the ones who helped him design these wonders."

"What did you mean about three wishes?" Gerion continues my rather pleasant interrogation.

I shrug as if it's only an afterthought. "The three things the parents wish for most when conceiving the Grumkin, will come to family during the child's life… but each one comes at the cost of a loved ones life."

"Father wanted me to inform you he is ready to meet with the 'savages'," Hiding her own whirling thoughts with a calculating smirk, Cersei motions for me alone to follow her guards. "But it would seem a waste of time to speak for mere followers to join us."

Gerion snorts at the dismissive words, but does signal for me to leave my party behind in the courtyard. Mors catches my pinkie and grunts out a warning before I go.

"If he tries anything inside," He tries to act like this is just part of his duty, but I catch a hint of real worry in his scent. "Just yell and we'll make sure the gate stays open."

"If I yell," I glance at the Lannister men and realize they have nearly doubled while talking with Cersei. "Get your asses on the road and I'll make my own way out."


…


"You are to become my newest peer?" Tywin has a lot less grey hair than I'm used to seeing, but his perfectly delivered condescension worms through even my thick hide.

His eyes trail over my new armor, the dark brown leather is nearly a burgundy and rests over my by far more tightly bound cotton underneath. It gets him to at least stop frowning as he finds my appearance is not as disgraceful as he had been informed.

"Well that depends on a few things." Not backing down since that will only show me as someone worth no respect in this Lord's eyes, I stand straighter and look Tywin straight in the eye. "Aerys has stockpiles of Wildfire in King's Landing, so taking the city will be more difficult than a simple siege."

His eyes widen in shock, but Tywin manages to remain composed in the face of the disturbing news. Cersei however lets out a horrified gasp, certainly fearing for her twin's life.

"So you have come to directly petition for my aid?" Ignoring his daughter's growing distress, Tywin refuses to allow my words to impact his decision. "The other Lords didn't see fit to speak with me themselves?"

"We thought you would appreciate the only one with anything still left to offer you a way into our alliance." Alright, time to stick my head right under the guillotine. Hope Ned was right and it will take a few tries first though.

He frowns again and crosses his arms. "What could you possibly have to offer me?"

"I hear you've been looking for one of those fancy swords," Tywin gets the barest hint of desire in his eyes. "I left Toothpick with my son for safe keeping, but I think you Southerners used to call it Darksister."

"You expect us to believe you have that missing legend?" Gerion blurts out, his voice highly amused by the claim.

"Bloodraven was the one I got it from, I simply asked the Starks what his blade was called before I came into it's possession."

Glaring his brother into silence, Tywin quickly resumes control of the discussion. "And I assume the price will be my forces joining the rebels?"

"I have leave to bring my people South once the rebellion is won, but I will need a bride to guide me in the South." Ignoring the shock in Tywin's eyes, I explain my needs plainly. "I have already taken to rescuing the Noble children stolen by the savage Wildlings, but all thirteen lack the blood required in the South to be my heir."

"I may not be able to lay with my bride, but as long as she can remain discreet..." I let the words hang in the air, so everyone present can take them in. "I care not who she sires my heirs with." Cersei is going to be a problem for whoever she ends up with, so why not give her exactly what she desires?

She's irrational and bitter by the start of the first book, but that was only after thirty years being denied her heart's desire. I truly believe she went to her wedding bed intent on giving her marriage a real attempt and only Robert's drunken words turned her so quickly back to her twin's comfort.

Joffrey is a spoiled monster in desperate need of a strong guiding hand, which I feel I can be the one to provide. Myrcella and Tommen are wonderful children, so I'll take my chances. Even if I have to get rid of Joffrey for the safety of all my children one day.

"My Amazons will need a Duchess with a spine of steel to lead them in these strange lands," Leaving the words hanging in the air thick with unspoken meaning, I sweeten the offer. "I have already been given permission to promise you Sir Jaime's freedom and return to Casterly Rock… as long as we can extract him safely from the capital."

Before anyone can speak, I reach for my waist and remove a suitcase size pouch. "I have two letters inside, send both and I have every belief in your son's survival."

"You have my attention," Admits Tywin simply, as not even his brother Gerion makes a wisecrack.

"Good, because right now only the Reach is fighting for the Dragons without a hostage having been taken." He nods at the obvious statement. "So the Storm King has agreed with me, they will lose land for making such a dishonorable decision." Being the ones who wounded him certainly aided him in this choice.

"Has it been decided which portions the Tyrells will lose and to whom the land will go?" Now even I can clearly see the eagerness in Tywin's eyes.

"From the fork of the Mander to the Westerlands and from the Cocklement river to the Stormlands." Detailing how the Reach will be losing up to a third of it's land, Tywin begins licking his lips hungrily. "The Crownlands are also to be divvied up among the Kingdoms who once claimed the land. I know the Vale is being give Crack Claw Point, while the Riverlands gain the lands down to Rosby."

"So many changes already planned?"

I nod grimly and explain why it was so easy for the four Lord's Paramount to agree. "The likely scenario is that we will be unable to save King's Landing, so plans are already in motion to create a new capital."

"And you are to return with my answer as soon as possible?" I can smell it on him already, Tywin's greed for more power has a very lemony scent.

"Your raven and commitment of forces will suffice," Shaking my head no, I point at Gerion with my thumb. "But I will have need of your brother and a ship." I hum as I pretend to consider something. "Do you still have some Dragon colors? it really would make sailing to Dorne far easier."








Notes: I just really thought the idea of marrying Cersei funny. It's an open secret she has bastards, gets most of the things she wanted growing up, and I'll never be touching her sexually. The whole he has 16 and you shall have three kids thing from Maggy the Frog, was the impetus for this choice.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 13: Don't Rock the Boat
283 AC
​

As the final preparations for the voyage are underway at the Lannisport docks, Tywin and his daughter watch with casual indifference. The pair have come to see Gerion off and complete the first stage of our transaction.

Doing an admirable job of hiding his nerves, Sandor Clegane awaits his new appointment with resignation. The boy of three and ten could pass as a man fully grown, if he keeps his helm on that is.

"This is the brave lad who volunteered to be my squire?" Smiling down at a resolute Sandor, I can see his jaw tense when my shadow falls over him.

"The others all turned it down when they heard you couldn't knight them yourself." Explains Tywin with a curl of his lip. "Clegane is still to timid to fight among his brother's men, maybe you shall finally get the dog to bite instead of simply growl."

"You know how much more work it's going to be looking after my armor, don't you lad?"

His back straightens when he thinks I doubt his abilities and he rushes to defend his new position. "Big Lord needs a big squire."

"His care and training is your responsibility now," Tywin scowls at the sailors leering a few moments too long in his daughter's direction and smirks when they scamper away in fear. "We will resume discussion of the betrothal upon your successful return from the North… with my blade."

"We've been over this already." I remind hit with a smirk of my own. "The land you stand to gain from the Reach is your prize for joining the rebellion,"

"Toothpick is worth an army or castle all it's own." He glowers back at my ability to understand basic economics. "And considering the other four families are now all aligned by marriage, you only have young Renly or Edmure as alternatives"

I know my power is built only on promises right now, but chances to marry into this alliance are rapidly closing. If I refrain from rushing, my position will only grow in strength. "Unless of course you are willing to reconsider the Martells."

The shudders shared by the highbrow Lannisters nearly makes me snort in amusement. When I manage to hold it in with a sniffle, I catch the scent of the missing Tyrion. He clambers down from his horse with the grace that suggests he still secretly practices his tumbling and dashes towards us.

"Wait!" His eager grin has me bend down carefully. Even though I have only spoken with him a few times, he seemed quite eager to find a solution for my own impairment. "I have something for you." He has the ends of two telescopes bound to a golden frame, making a pair of crude glasses he holds up before me.

My words upon our arrival seem to have had some effect and now Tyrion is being given lessons on the castle's architecture. His first assignment is still going to be the refitting of the sewers, but it is only a first step on the bright boy's path.

"These should help you see better," The ten year old Lannister almost giggles at his own earlier fear of me. "So you don't step on the wrong person."

As I slide the gift onto my face, I find the frames are in fact almost perfectly sized for my head. When I blink, I can see clearer than I have been able to all year. It's not perfect by any means and I have a smudge one the left lens, but I can see more than colored shapes beyond a few hundred feet.

"How long did this take you?" I can only hope he obtained the telescopes from sailors here down at the docks and not stolen them from his Maester. "Because I can finally see the splendor Lannisport has to offer."

"A few days to make sure I had them an even distance apart." He preens from the praise, even as Cersei grimaces at my interaction with her brother. "But it was worth it."

Cersei surprisingly agrees with her brother. "It did keep you holed up with the Maester for several days, maybe you should find a new project to continue the trend."

"A common Maester is not the life for one of my line," Stopping the bickering before it can even really begin, Tywin simply gives his children an intense look which cows them both. "But to be remembered ten thousand years from now… that is a life in which you can at least bring glory to our family."

"How long will we have before even a Targaeryan flag will be of no use for a Lannister ship?" The last of the preparations done, Gerion has now joined the farewells himself.

"It will be nearly twenty days before all my banners have assembled and are ready to march on the Reach." His scouts have reported the Tyrell host is already marching on Storm's End.

Left with less than half of the available forces remaining in place, the Reach is ripe for the Lannister's to pounce. "By the moon's turn we shall have launched our first attack and you will be forced to rely on speed over stealth."

"Which is why I'm taking the strait and not going the long way around the Arbor," Agrees the far more relaxed Gerion, who suddenly snorts in bemusement. "Don't tell me you're actually worried about me!"

"Considering recent information," Admits the older Tywin with a wince. "The closer we come to obtaining Darksister, the more I remember the few good memories from our childhood." Giving his brother a slight upward tilt to the corner of his lips, Tywin reveals he does in fact care about Gerion. "I would prefer if you return unharmed."


…


Laying in the middle of the Lion's Man right behind the mast, I do my best not to tilt the boat with my weight. Crates and barrels have been stacked around me while the sun is out, with a spare sail lain over most of my body.

"I spy with my not so little eye," Smiling at the clouds blowing past in the wind, I'm actually able to see a flock of seagulls. "Something that is... white!"

When Sandor rolls his eyes at my antics, It seems I've finally gotten the boy over his fear of me. About time, only took four days of acting like a fool.

"Birds again…" He grunts out finally, when it's clear I won't let the question go. "It's been birds every damn time you've asked me!"

Once his tirade is finished and he realizes exactly what he said to me, he rapidly begins to go pale. Letting out an amused chuckle has him confused, but I'm just happy we're through the awkward 'getting to know you' stage.

"Finally, I was wondering if had a mind of your own, or if you just got told to spy on me." I snort at his worried expression. "Don't worry about it, I'd rather you tell Lord Lannister exactly what I accomplish."

It's a lot easier to impress a child than a full grown man, even if the boy thinks he is one. Sandor's report will do more to sway Tywin than pretty much anyone else being assigned to me.

"Now how about you tell me why you don't want to be a knight, but you're still going through every step to earn your spurs?"

He freezes in place and starts to exhale heavily, flashes of his brother filling his mind. I don't get a verbal answer, just the furious and tear filled eyes of the Pup.

"You're getting ready to climb a mountain… aren't you?" I hold back my smirk when he jerks backwards in panic. "I've had dreams about the things he will do and have heard the tale of your brother from Gerion."

Lowering his eyes in to firm belief that I will take Gregor's side, Sandor misses my own sad eyes. "Of course you have, the only thing that matters is how well a knight serves his Lord." Bitter at the world, he hisses the last part under his breath. "His crimes off the battlefield are worth no mention."

"Not to me." In disbelief Sandor locks firm eyes with me, daring me to say it again. So I do. "He thinks to call himself the Mountain among men, but in my lands… Gregor Clegane is not even a foothill."

"You'll help me?"

"Can't be letting him shame the Snarks now, can we?" Smirking down at an ecstatic Sandor, I do have to bring his hopes down to a more manageable level. "We will need to either make it look like an accident, or cause him to loose control in a public setting."

Shaking his head at me, my squire shows the iron in his spine. "I don't want him pushed down a flight of stairs, he needs to know it was by my hand."

"Do you want justice, vengeance, or vindication?" I ask with no judgment, simply wait for Sandor's response.

He frowns at me and growls. "What's the difference?"

"Justice means you let your Lord or the King handle the punishment." That doesn't make him happy and I have to whistle for his rant to be silenced. "Vengeance means you want him to suffer, not caring who knows the reason."

Sandor nods slowly, following along with my explanation in silence. "And vindication, that means you just want to be right. So do you want the world to know his crimes, do you want him to suffer, or is it most important this is done by your hand?"
​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 14: Rose Did Have Room
283 AC
​

Once the stars replace the sun and leave my size concealed by the night, I'm able to carefully stretch my legs. It takes a few laps around the cramped galley for me to stop stumbling with every large wave, but eventually I stop making Sandor think the boat will flip.

"I might tilt the boat, but we made sure to balance the weight down below just for me." My voice is calm, but he still doesn't stop scowling until I take a seat near the back of the boat.

Gazing at the shoreline as we sail by in silence that steadily grows less uncomfortable, I really take in how beautiful this world is. The moonlight is bright enough to show me an outline of a sprawling orchard that stretches as far as my eyes can see.

Of course even with my new glasses, it may only be a few kilometers wide. None of the constellations are ones I recognize, but I pass the time making my own. I'm particularly fond of the triangle one, but the seven in a bendy line look like a snake.

"Those ships are coming pretty close..." Sandor smacks my hand in growing panic, drawing me back from my stargazing. "You need to get covered up!"

"Too late for that, all three are moving to cut off escape." One of the officers pants out a correction as he finds us. "We're going to have to hope we can break past the lead ship, or we'll be fighting three to one odds when we get boarded."

My mind whirls as fast as it can and even I am well aware that hope is futile. "Where's the anchor?"

He's confused by the demand but leads my to the coiled chain. Grabbing most in one hand, I pull the last part taut and begin twisting. It's thick metal, but corroded enough by the salt that I'm able to snap it with a quick twist of my wrists.

"Tell Gerion to bring us right up beside the ship blocking our way," Growling out my command, I march to the prow and start to whirl the anchor.

We pass by with less than thirty feet between the ships, so I take careful aim and fling the anchor like a rocket. The other end is wrapped tightly around my forearm, causing the anchor to hook punch through the other ships sail. It loops around the mast and lodges firmly in the hardwood, which I determine with an experimental tug.

"Hang on to something!" Bellowing out a warning, I heave with all my strength.

It's not a gradual creaking I hear as I pull, but a sudden thunderous crash as I snap the mast right in half. Crashing down onto the deck of the Reach ship, I watch as one side of the crossbeam pierces the deck of the ship.

"Go!" Pulling up the on the piece of the mast causes the ship to lean, but I haul in the bear sized chunk of wood like a prize trout. The other two ships slow down in fear of the same being done to them and follow at what should be a safe distance.


…


"They aren't going to break off, they know we're flying a false flag now." Gerion scowls at the two ships still following in the afternoon light.

The shores of the Reach are beginning to fade into the red cliffs of Dorne, but we can no longer allow pursuit. "The fleet is far enough away, drop sails and we'll deal with them now."

The crew grumbles but does lower the black and red canvas, instantly cutting our speed to less than a crawl. Gerion taps at the hilt of his blade, anticipation seeping across his face.

"Now comes the part I hate most," His words are spit out casually, but the tension is only hidden extremely well. "Waiting for the first charge to connect."

"No," My correction has him frowning up at my smirk. "Now it's time to watch, my spy needs something to report back on."

The Reach ships didn't see what we did to the one last night, but they know we have the capability to wreck a ship in less than a minute. With this knowledge they approach carefully… and from the rear.

I wait concealed beneath the sail, only moving once the first ship is close enough for them to throw grapples. Bellowing as loud as I can, the shocked attackers stumble back and give me all the opening I need.

Charging forward on all fours for speed, I heave myself onto the Reach ship. The Lannister ship was prepared for my weight, but the new one I find myself on was definitely not.

As soon as I slam onto the deck and roll across to the far side, the entire ship begins to list. The terrified Reach men are sent tumbling down into the ocean, but I manage to grab the keel.

Before slipping into the water myself, I scramble onto the hull of the sinking boat and roar in triumph. The other ship is already throwing lines into the water, but this just brings them close enough to join the swimming lessons now on offer.

My maul is pulled loose and I swing downwards at the remaining enemy ship. Arrows begin slamming into me, but I can barely even feel the pressure of the impacts in my new armor. Yanking my weapon free from the splintering wood, I'm forced to bring it back down for a second attempt.

This strike chops through the hull and when I pull it away, the sea floods into the ship as a gushing torrent. Observing the devastation around me, I actually feel something crash into my back.

"Grab on!" Sandor's worried… about me. I guess I really am getting through to him. The anchor is still stuck into the piece of mast, but right now I'm glad Mors didn't hack it loose.

While I'm pulled away behind the only ship still afloat, I do my best to ignore the screams of the drowning.


...


I roll to one side and try to submerge my tower door I call a shield, but no matter how hard I try it remains afloat. I knew it! Rose realized what a life with Jack would really be like and was not going to put up with those antics for life.

Once we got out of sight of the twin shipwrecks and both crews, my shield was dropped overboard so I had a more comfortable ride to dock. We may be going half our previous speed, but it's been quite relaxing.

I was already getting hot and incredibly sweaty, if I wasn't in the water I'd have already passed out from the intensity of the sun. Guess I won't be wearing my armor to the Tower of Joy after all… or many clothes at all.

"We're approaching port, get ready to explain why we're here in Dorne." Gerion bellows down at me.

"Howland and you will accompany me to meet with Lord Dayne, the others should stay on the ship for now." My words have him nod briefly, before his head vanishes to give out commands for docking.

Looking down, I realize the water is barely chin deep and stupidly stand. The sudden loss of slightly less than two and a half tonnes, causes the ship to surge forward for a few dozen feet. Thankfully however, they slow before crashing into the docked ships.

By the time I find a ramp onto the beach, Gerion and Howland are waiting with a very shocked Lord Dayne. He looks to be over fifty, but only just. He has long black hair tied back in a loose ponytail, with grey only just beginning to pepper his temples.

His piercing indigo eyes cut through me and I feel like he could see right through any lie I speak. But that's ridiculous… right? Realizing it doesn't matter either way since the letters have already been sent, I know my bowing will definitely not work her and kneel out of view of any Freefolk.

"I would appreciate if you didn't tell the Northerners I did that Lord Dayne, or they'll never let me live it down."

His stony gaze becomes at least slightly amused by the remark and only now do I realize who's standing behind him with curiosity in her purple eyes. Ashara Dayne... with a very much not stillborn babe.

With a small tuft of black hair on the child's head, I find myself very confused. The sniff of the air I take confirms the gender as male, which has my mind whirl with how wrong I may soon be proven to be.

"Is he Brandon or Ned's?" If all the theories I ascribed to are wrong in at least this version of events, how screwed am I? My blunt remark has Ashara glare, but her father simply sighs in resignation.

"We may as well have this conversation back in the castle." Lord Dayne stops his daughter's indignant response with a hand on her arm, before leading us up the hill the Starfall. "I assume someone told Lord Stark and you are here for the child… war is a volatile time and even bastards have value."

If he really does have some kind of magic eyes, I need to be delicate with my phrasing here. "I am indeed here for a child with Stark blood, but first we will need the location of the Tower of Joy."

"Whatever for?" He blinks in confusion at what seems like a change to a completely unrelated topic. Beside him Ashara's eyes go wide in realization and she blurts it out for me.

"Arthur!"

"Is holding the kidnapped Lyanna Stark prisoner," I confirm her fears, but her father is not so quick to believe my slander and begins reaching for his blade. "Under Prince Rhaegar's order."

"You better have proof of these claims, for my son is no brigand." He pulls his sword halfway from it's sheath and growls at me angrily.

"Provide me a small enough escort to move both with speed and stealth." My easy acceptance has Lord Dayne back to looking confused, but his sword is nearly all the way back in the sheath. "And you'll either have proof, or two of the Kingsguard ready to aid your men in slaying this Northern beast."

He considers this and nods slowly, but the next words I utter will not be as easy for him to hear. "I will need the Stark babe though, I did come to Dorne for a reason after all." Only me showing off the seal of all five Lord's Paramount in the rebellion, saves me from facing Lord Dayne in the middle of the street.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 15: Tears of Joy
283 AC
​

While Lord Dayne's servants stitch a fresh white sail into a toga, I peel off my sweat drenched armor and drop it onto the sand. Mors and Sandor wait on the rocks nearby, with a pair of freshly sharpened shears ready to chop through my forest of body hair.

A trio of horrified stable boys are directed by my Umber ally to begin. They lather up my already damp hair and make a show of gagging on my musky odor.

"Get started on his back Sandor." Mors smirks at the idea he was going to do more than supervise. "Rest of you get to work on the Duke's legs, you need to finish before he collapses on us."

"I'll try not to fall on any of you."

Mors takes great amusement at the boys who are doing an admirable job of keeping their disgust to themselves. I however just try not to wince each time they are less than careful with the shears.

"Raven's landing at the castle," Scowls Crowfood as calculates the rough direction it came from. "It followed the coastline from the East, which really narrows who could have sent it."

"The Martells are calling their banners." My words have everyone freeze, exchanging awkward glances with each other. "So we better hope I'm right about everything." As long as Lyanna's at the Tower of Joy, I can still salvage something out of this mess.


...


We leave Starfall behind with an escort of thirty knights, Lord Dayne leading us through the hidden passes to clear his son's name. Ashara and her nursemaid insisted on keeping the babe I am trying very hard not to call Jon and they bring up the read.

The litter is designed for travel through the mountains, so hopefully they won't slow us down too much. Because based on my own rough calculations, the Siege of Storm's End should have begun by now, the Battle of the Trident should be soon, and Lyanna's pregnancy only about halfway to term.

"Once we round this corner, we'll be visible from the top of the tower." The party is called to a halt by the grim faced Lord and now I'm forced to place my faith in the Daynes. "Wait here like we agreed, I want the chance to hear things from Arthur myself."

He leaves a handful of men behind and marches up the winding path towards the plateau. Crouched against the base of the cliffs, we remain silent for the signal.

It's a tense twenty minutes but when a sneeze echoes through the rocky pass, we charge into action. The five knights left behind start to race away from us, while my party feigns pursuit up the trail.

As the Dayne knights crest the hill and rejoin the larger force, two figures are thankfully present. Arthur Dayne is directing his sister's litter to the Tower, while Oswald Whent tries to charge of the defense.

"You have Lyanna Stark." I try not to pant and keep some level of intimidation, but Whent is completely undeterred. "I'm bringing her home."

I can see the truth has left Lord Dayne nearly in a stupor, but his men are at least aware of the plan. They form a ring of shields around me and the two white cloaks, while Howland rushes after the litter unmolested.

"What are you doing?" Arthur hisses in rage when Howland slips inside the tower. "You betray the one true King!"

"You betray your honor!" His father roars back with just as much anger. "You betray our family!"

Without my armor Dawn gives even me pause, so I take advantage of Arthur's distraction. He doesn't notice my first step, but Whent warns him of my approach by the second.

The look of shock on Arthur's face when my foot connects is priceless. His eyes bulge out and he arcs through the air, vanishing from sight when he falls below the cliff edge. The scream as he plummets into the pass is gut wrenching, but I don't have time to think about him anymore.

Whent roars at me and hacks into my heel with all his might. His blade is nothing special, but the sharpened steel cuts through my skin easily. The spray of blood coats the dirt with slick crimson blood and my roar nearly deafens everyone.

"That hurt!" I clap like he's a fly and crush the white cloak between my palms, his armor and bones crunching between them. A sharp pain draws my gaze to the sword emerging from the back of my right hand and I start waving it around wildly."

"No I was wrong, that hurts!"

"Get that sword out of your Lord's hand, the rest of you…" Lord Dayne seems to have recovered enough from his shock to take charge again. "Find my son!" Sandor rushes to grab the hilt embedded in my palm, while the Dornish knights charge right back down the trail.

Howland is the first one out of the tower, a trembling Lyanna clinging desperately to the crook of his arm. The swell of her belly has me stumble back to my feet in ecstatic joy and dash towards her suddenly terrified face.

"You're here!" I nearly start sobbing when I lift the shocked Lyanna into my arms and hold her desperately. "I was so worried about you!" My massive tears splash down on her and soon Lyanna is getting over her shock. Of course I was really worried she wouldn't be here and everyone was about to die… but I won't tell her that part, the tears are really selling this to everyone.

"Careful with her, you can't squeeze so tight." Ashara scolds me, but has lost most of the edge she maintained the whole march here. "And you really need that hand looked at, so put her down and hold still."

"Sandor, go get Lyanna's pup," I wave him towards the litter with my free hand, but he just snorts at my description.

"She's not really a pup anymore, she's already bigger than any dog I've ever seen."


…


Sandor fishes for information, but I can't tell if it's his own or Tywin's. "I don't understand, why aren't we going back to Starfall?"

Single file the party works our way down what is little more than a goat trail, with me being forced to shuffle along sideways with extreme care. The Sea of Dorne is shimmering orange under the rising sun, but no one pays it a second glance on this perilous hike.

"Because then we have to sneak past the Reach again," I grunt back at my squire and breath out in relief when the trail begins widening. "I don't really want to play tugboat again, so I made sure to make new arrangements. Don't worry, I told Gerion he's free to head home whenever he wants."

"New arrangements..." Sandor trails off as he realizes the orange on the sea was not the sun, but forty Dornish ships flying the Martell flag.

"Get down before they see us!" Warns Jorah, which prompts my followers to drop to the dirt hastily.

Ashara sighs as she watches the dozen knights left by Lord Dayne crouch like fools. "I'm just glad father isn't seeing this."

Arthur is being taken back to Starfall in her litter after being found bleeding on the rocks. His bones will heal, but he will never walk again. I guess this is still a net improvement overall, I'm still up a Dayne and a half.

"Ladies, cover your eyes." I warn the party before yanking my white toga off and waving it for the fleet's attention. "Hey! Over here!"

"What in the seven Hells are you doing?" Mors blanches at my blindingly pale body.

"Who did you think I was sending letters to?" Snorting at his shocked look, I hastily slip my toga back on. "Alright, the moons hiding. It's safe to look again." No one has moved towards the beach, so I sigh and explain. "What, did you think it was the Iron Islands I was trying to speak with?"

The lead ship beaches itself on the beach right in front of us, with a few dozen armed men jumping down onto the sand gracefully. The man who saunters towards our group with a cocky smile can only be one man.

"When we received the first letter, I was ready to kill you for the mockery I thought you offered my family." Oberyn Martell is clean shaven and barely twenty, a far cry from the relaxed confidence he obtains in his later years. "The letter from Elia however… that is why we are here as friends."

"It was successful?" I can smell his barely contained glee, it kind of reminds me of the scent of lilac.

He throws his spear to the ground and claps happily, his warriors settling into a relaxed stance. "Elia and the children are safe on Dragonstone, thanks to the words in Sir Jaime's letter." Laughing in relief, Oberyn almost dances in place. "What did you tell the Spider?"

"To check the sewers for Wildfire, it would seem he found more than I expected." Varys going with other four wasn't planned, but I'll deal with him when we arrive. I told him two more births are coming and his help will buy my silence, if Rhaella or Lyanna just so happens to have twins... it seems he's taking me up on that offer.

"Aerys has called our spears to war, so I sail for King's Landing with ten thousand spears." He explains with a swagger in each step, as he marches forward and extends a hand for me to shake. "Against the Mad King!"

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 16: I Guess It's Time To Fill You All In
283 AC
​

Getting wide eyed stares from his that I've started to notice since being given my glasses, I follow Oberyn down into the belly of the Dornish Galley. The stairs creak worryingly with each step, but thankfully none of them break on me.

Mors Umber catches my look before coming down himself and stops Sandor with a hand on his arm. "You wanted to learn how to fight on a ship, didn't you?" He gets an eager nod and grins back at the boy already as tall as his chin. "Let's go steal a couple of the Prince's men, they should be able to give us a workout."

I wait for the heavy footsteps to fade before frowning down at Oberyn. "You really aren't going to like what I have to say."

"You do seem to be rather… forceful." He winks saucily and helps Ashara take a seat. "So tell me, what is going to upset my wonderful mood?"

"Rhaenys and Aegon won't be able to go back to Dorne with you."

His eyes shift from relaxed to deadly in half a heartbeat. "You had best explain quickly."

"We're going to have a lot of Targaeryan children, almost enough to ward one with each of the great families." That doesn't seem to sway him at all, so I try again. "It's either that or flee to Essos with them. Because Dorne, the Reach, and whatever is left of the Crownland forces won't last long against the united rebels."

"As much as I would like to deny that claim, the tide has been turning far too fast for me to ignore."

"Which is why Lyanna is going to finally marry Robert, so he's willing to let the children live." Lyanna isn't happy, but doesn't argue like I had feared. "If we tell him Lyanna is barren and his choice is being King or marrying her… I know what he'll choose." Even if it's only because he has no desire in ruling.

"Which leaves the Kingdoms in need of an heir." Oberyn can finally see all the pieces in my plan and smiles. "We decide this with a Grand Council and even if Lyanna gets with child, it matters not."

Scrunching up her nose in distaste, Lyanna consents after a few moments of tense thought. "Each Great House gets a hostage to raise and a Targaeryan to marry. It could work."

"I wasn't expecting Bran to be this old, we really need to get him to Winterfell as soon as possible." It will be a little hard to get used to, but it is fitting for Ashara's babe to be named after his father. "Otherwise it will be nearly impossible to claim him as Benjen and Osha's."

"What?" Hissing at me in frustrated shock, Lyanna is quick to defend her younger brother from my plotting. "But hes just a boy!"

"He's almost the same age as when you ran away with your Prince Charming," I correct her firmly, taking only a very minute amount of pleasure from her wince. "Benjen swore give his nephew a true born's name, something Ned is unable to do and still maintain a happy family.

Something in my words makes Oberyn smirk at me. "Speaking of a happy family, I have been told of the rather unique betrothal you are brokering with the Lannisters. You have my sympathies." It looks like he considers his next words carefully, but I can tell by the glint in his eyes the speech is rehearsed.

"You are rightfully worried about laying with a woman of small stature, but the women of Leng should be closer in size." His teasing has Lyanna looking aghast, which prompts Sir Andar Morrigan to speak up.

"Prince Oberyn, I must protest. That is not language fit for ladies as fair as these two." The Stormlander Knight is a father himself and has been showing his protective streak since we left Starfall.

That just makes the cocky prince snort and lock eyes with an amused Ashara. "One is a mother and the other is soon to be. Both are well aware of that which I speak."

"What about me?" The new mother demands casually, but I'm not fooled by the false calm. "How am I to be near Brandon?"

"You had best begin learning the ways of the Old Gods and how the blend them with the Faith of the Seven." I'm going to need someone to do it, I barely know enough to pay lip service myself. "Septa Lemore." Who better than someone that can add the spice of the Rhoyne right from the beginning?


…


While we snake along the Eastern shore of Tarth, I enjoy the fresh if salty air after another day under the deck. Stepping onto the deck under the starry sky, I inhale deeply and nearly gag on the smell. The wind carries the stench of salted fish and onion, making me whistle for the crew.

"Find the ship with the black sails, it will reek of onion!" With the Reach blockade broken and scurrying home without even a cursory inspection, Davos will no longer be needed at Storm's End. He'll get his title once he gets Bran to Winterfell and I'll even let him keep his fingers.

"The wolf's got the scent," Jorah points to Winter on the prow, with her head pointed sraight at the smell of onion in darkness. "Pull hard to starboard and get out the grapples!"

"Get the man unharmed, that kind of daring is nearly unheard of." Out of everyone, Davos is one of only a handful of characters basically everyone hails as a pillar for good. I'm not finding a better smuggler who still has his morals.

He's the only reason I've had us follow the coastline North, instead of cutting across to the far safer shores of Essos for the trip. Outside of this incredibly narrow window, I have no idea how to find the Onion Knight... I will not waste this chance.

"What's the meaning of this?" The thick accent of Davos cuts through the night. "I'm just bringing my catch back to King's Landing."

"We all know what black sails at night mean and all these onions..." Oberyn swings down to the small black ship on a grapple line. "It's pretty clear someone was after a reward for sneaking past he Redwyne blockade."

Knowing he's caught, Davos hangs his head in defeat as the Prince brings him on board. "I thought if I brought the hungry lords food, I'd have a chance at finally finding a better life for my family."

"It's a good thing I need exactly that kind of daring," Davos frowns in confusion and tries cleaning out his ear.

"Begging your pardon, but I must have heard you wrong." He looks ready to take his chances swimming to shore, so I'm forced to explain fast. "If you swear yourself to my service, I'll make sure the Realm overlooks your less than legal past."

"What do you need from someone like me?"

Chuckling at his suspicious smell, I clarify my future plans openly. "I'm going to be taking the Stepstones, I'm sure you can help us find those crews who are only in sch dire straits as your own."

I can smell the stench of Flea Bottom on Davos, even with his days of exposure to the salty wind. "The Freefolk will need a period of adjustment once I bring them South. I plan to work through the differences in our people, by taking from thieves.

Using the excess funds we claim from the pirates to take in as many refuges as I can from this rebellion, should put relief on the other Kingdoms whose stores will be dangerously low by now. King's Landing alone is around half a million people and they'll all be homeless winter, I may as well start laying the foundations for my own banner men.

"No one likes pirates, so I'm going to shape the Freefolk into a fleet of privateers." It let's them continue stealing… just from approved targets only. It will take decades to hammer the unruliness from the Wildlings, which I could better spend going with the grain of their culture.

"I'll need loyal and capable..." I trail off momentarily, as I consider what titles I can twist best for my purposes. "Thanes and Jarls, to rule my new lands." Those should give me an equivalency to lords and landed knights, while sounding just foreign enough to the common tongue to sell it.


…


The Royal Fleet parts when approach Dragonstone, with two boats escorting those of us on the flagship to port. "Mors… you should probably stay on the ship while we meet with Queen Rhaella."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He barks back in irritation, making me twist my words to soothe his ego.

"It means I don't trust anyone else to hold this ship if they try to board while we're inside."

A massive smirk crosses his face and he claps Howland hard on the back, sending the small man tumbling to the deck. "Well alright. Since you value my skills so highly, I can stand first watch."

"More like he values a civil conversation," The Reed Lord shoots back with no real anger, well aware Crowfood is still getting used to he rocking of the deck. "You'll spend the whole time bragging about all of our kills, which won't really help our image here."

"Of course I would, how else will we awe the Dragons into submission?" His cocky grin makes me frown in grim realization that nothing will cow Aerys.

"We're going to need Varys and his little birds." He's the only one I know of that can get word spread among most of the city in time. "His job will be making King's Landing revolt and overwhelm any loyalists who remain at the gates."




Notes: I was about 200 words away from finishing a chapter at Storm's End, only to realize my changes would have had the Reach ending the Siege because of the Lannister's attack. Had to delete it all and scramble to adjust my plans. Next one should be back on schedule.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 17: Control Was Only Imaginary
283 AC
​

Lyanna and I are led inside the foreboding throne room, to find the striking Queen Rhaella awaiting us on her throne. Her silver hair reflects the torchlight beautifully, while her face goes through a variety of expressions during my tale.

The white cloak standing watch over her is not Jaime, which makes the scowling old man Ser William Darry. By the end of my tale Rhaella's face has grown stormy, making me begin to worry.

"You expect the Targaeryan dynasty to just step aside for your whims?" Her words are a signal, with Varys being carried out in chains. "I have learned you even had plans to insert a Blackfyre into my family, with none of us being any the wiser?"

"I am sorry my friend, but the rest of us are not so willing to hand away our family legacies." Oberyn and his men draw their spears, waving the incredibly relieved Ashara away from me. "We are incredibly grateful for your words of warning, but your lucky guesses have proven wrong at last."

Rhaella gives holds up a hand to silence the impulsive Prince and keeps her blazing eyes locked with mine. "I have heard many things about you. Some have spoken of your claims of being kin with the 'Storm King', others tell that you seek to claim the Stepstones, and the most disturbing by far… is the tales of you seeking Dragonstone for yourself."

"For the lives you have saved, we shall spare yours in return." Now she stands and is nearly eye level with me. "So let me tell you our offer. You will leave with the Stark girl and stay out of the war for the mainland."

"We are not pieces for you to invent a new game with," Oberyn paces theatrically between me and the Queen. "We are Unbowed, we are Unbent," He's nearly screaming each word with raw intensity. "And we most certainly do not allow our family to be broken up by Northerners!"

"You will return to the North with the Stark girl and abandon any of your plans for my family." She shifts her scowl into a tender smile for Lyanna alone. "Go home and since the Duke is so intent on having a true born Stark, you have until the birthing to choose… will the child be known as a wolf, or a dragon?"

Oberyn gives me a half smile and shrugs. "Stay out of any further battles in this rebellion and we will uphold the agreement you have made to claim the Stepstones."

"I keep out of your family secrets and you keep out of mine?" I know I can probably kill everyone in the room who tries to fight, but even a single cut could kill even me. The Dornish are known for poisons that can drop an elephant and I have over twenty spears pointed at me right now.

"Make sure you bring the Blackfyre with you," Ser Darry barks at me when it's clear the conversation is ending. "We do not kill children here, but that protection will end if she goes West of your islands... after she flowers of course."

"You will say your smuggler barely escaped our fleets and never take arms against Dorne." Oberyn explains with a relieved hiss, his tension releasing as it becomes clear I'm not going to fight my way out. "Swear to these terms and you can go North for your people."

"We'll not betray our Lords!" Roars the incredibly loyal, but also incredibly idiotic Andar Morrigan. "Draw steel an-" Whatever else the Stormlander was going to say is cut off along with his head.

Duncan Lipps from the Vale is quick to throw his hands in the air and disavow our companion. "My lips are sealed!" He gasps out his house words and Darry settles into a defensive stance. The main reason I selected Duncan for this journey at all, is no being used against me.

We came for Lyanna and we have her," Assures Howland with his ever calm voice. "I see no further need to shed blood in the South."


…


When our Manderly escort passes through the gates of Winterfell and Lyanna is home for the first time in over a year, the cheers begin. Men and women alike stop in their duties to welcome her back and praise those of us who made it so, but my mind is whirling with guilt.

Lyanna's furs hide her belly from the crowd and we are led inside the main hall by one of the Cassels. Seated in the Lord's chair is an ecstatic Benjen, while beside him in the Lady's is a flushed Osha.

Something is off with her smell and I take a deeper whiff, only to suddenly exclaim in shock. "You're pregnant!"

"You told me to steal him, so I did." She shrugs with no shame, but a blushing Benjen hides his face in his hands. The smirk on her face shows she knows exactly how much this screws with my plans.

"How far along are you?" I sigh heavily, the shock having taken all the fight out of my bones.

Osha grins wide and pretends to think about it. "How long have you been gone?"

"Almost seven months..." I did cut it pretty close with Lyanna, she's going to pop any day now.

"Well that's your answer." I guess she really wanted that castle.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Benjen dashes to his sister and holds her as tight as he dare. "Don't worry, we decided twins sound wonderful."

"He's not making you?" Lyanna nearly sobs into his unruly hair, desperate to hear the words from his own mouth.

"No, not at all." He pats her on the back delicately before finally releasing his vice like grip on his sister. "Not anymore than you made me be your squire and start all of this chaos."

"You really are the best brother in the world." She smiles softly and allows him to introduce her to Osha. "And I'm really excited to get to know you Osha, it sounds like you found a way to motivate Benjen here."

"He does like to mope, but that just made it easier to jump him when he went off alone." My daughter gives Lyanna knowing grin and I realize I really do think of her like that now. It seems she stole me along with her Stark lord.

"That's my girl!" Mors blurts out equally enthralled by our 'kin' and spins her in a hug.

Realizing we still have one child more than expected, Benjen points to the Blackfyre girl in Howland's arms. "Now who might that be?"

"Meet Jaenara Bigfoot... my daughter." I get shocked gasps when I reveal her name, which just makes me sigh heavily.

"I have a problem alright... I like babies and you and your 'siblings' are ready for lives of your own now." And maybe Varys is blackmailing me, but I'm not going to admit that unless I have to. "You and Tormund aren't the first and Jaenara will not be the last."

"I'm going North at first light," I really do need to start gathering the Freefolk, or all this work getting the Stepstones has been pointless. "I'll send word with the Watch when I am ready for the Manderly fleet. It's a race against Winter now."


Notes: This marks the end of the prologue. My Great Grandmother who I live with/look after, is in need of more help than I can provide by myself anymore. I'm going to be spending the next few weeks packing up her things so she can get better care.

Because of the mood today I've had a really hard time on this chapter and especially making it funny. I'm going take a few weeks off on the move and finding a new place to live, I'll be back with chapter 18 sometime in october.

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Book 1: Keeping Promises
Chapter 18: Laying Foundations
283 AC
​

When the sun is still creeping over the horizon in the early hours of the morning, my party gives our farewell to the yawning Starks. Even Osha seems to have grown accustomed to the comfort of a regular schedule, because I just caught her rubbing sleep from one eye.

"You all have done so much already for my family, it doesn't seem right sending you North of the Wall so soon." Benjen is trying to look as firm as ice, but his wobbling knees reveal the truth of his wakefulness.

Snorting at the little Lord's attempt, Mors just reaches over and ruffles his hair. The Cassel I still haven't learned the name of scowls, but that is likely due to the time we made him get up. He was quite festive last night, at least until he decided to flirt with Maege... Cassel's black eye is quite telling of how that turned out.

"We're family now Lord Benjen," Mors smirks at Osha's belly, which just makes Benjen go red as a tomato again.

Ser Desmond Grell just sighs shamefully. "No one's believed the Watch has needed help for hundreds of years, my Lord won't believe anyone's word but mine own on what is really beyond the Wall."

"I need to go back to Bear Island, so you had better look out for my aunt," Jorah winks at me even as she glowers back at him darkly. "As you can see... she packs quite a mean wallop."

"Shut yer mouth dear Nephew of mine, or I'll show you just how mean I can be."

Stepping out of range of Maege's back swing, Howland has an amused grin dancing across his lips. "The Starks will only need one of our word as 'proof', I shall leave this task to you my friends." He offers one of my bows unprompted, which I gladly return with a light touching of our heads.

"Just make sure you don't kill my messenger," I remind Jorah with a growl. "I'll be sending Sandor across the Bay of Ice in a few months. You better be ready to bring him and Toothpick to my betrothed."

"You're giving Maege an island of her own, on the other side of Westeros..." Jorah ducks away from a not so playful swing from Maege's fist. "This is by far the best bargain I will ever receive." Who better than the She-bear to train my Amazons?

"Just make sure to check in on Tyrion, I don't want him slacking off on his lessons." After a year of all these man sized buildings, I really would like something designed for me. "I will be bringing the first of my people South by winter's end. This one isn't going to last long, I can feel it in my bones."

This winter can only last a few months max, because it's summer again by the time of Daenerys' birth and the year is almost done. I need to be ready to move on Dragonstone, or I wont be able to claim the Stepstones. I've made a lot of promises, I'm going to need to start following through on some of them.

We say farewell and depart as a light snow begins to fall on us, proving winter really is here. Wintertown is already starting to bustle with activity, but we just hurry through the streets.

"Now that we're away from sensitive ears..." Mors growls at me, with Howland and Jorah keeping their horses firm beside him. Lipps and Grell are behind them, but just as involved in this decision. "We need to talk to you about somethings."

"Like what?"

Maege has no time for niceties and slams her mace against my backside. "When are you going to get Brandon Snow back from that Dornish whore!"

"And you better not even think of leaving us out of the rescue mission," Snarls Mors in agreement. "This was some of the most fun I've had in years."

"Why do you think I need my people so bad now?" I admit with more than a little shame. Both in how I've been treating them and my glaring mistakes on the journey. "I'm at the limits of what one Giant can do now. I need an army, land, and resources to rescue Bran… but we will."

Jorah locks eyes with Howland and growls his response, while Mors and Maege share their own glance of confirmation. "The North remembers and we wont leave Stark blood to die in the South."

"They killed Ser Morrigan and that could have been anyone of use." With a raspy voice that sounds like he's been strangled five too many times, Ser Lipps of the Vale shares his own thoughts on the matter. "We need to bring his bones back to his family and I'm only a third son… I'm kind of hoping you throw some land my way next."

"If that's the case, remember who was first to offer our kin a welcome hand." Mors winks at me playfully, but I realize rewarding him is only fair.

"How does Jarl Mors Umber sound?"

He grins in excitement and snorts out his reply. "Like a damn good deal."

"Well I guess you had better spend this winter finding those in your lands, who desire warmer climates." I smirk at his scowl, but he relents after only a few moments of feigning anger.

"See, you can't do this when you go after Bran!"


...


Jorah breaks off when we reach the first fork in the road heading Northwest towards Bear Island, with Howland soon turning South when we reach the King's Road. We don't really notice their absence at first since both are relatively quiet men, but when Mors leaves for Last Hearth… the only one filling the silence is Maege.

"What's wrong with you lot?" She throws a ball of snow at my face when the silence begins driving her crazy. "Jorah said you went on adventures, this is more like a funeral procession!"

Stopping to scoop up as much snow as I can pack into one and, I smirk back at her and get a feral grin. "I guess your right, we need a little target practice to get the blood flowing!" I let loose a bellow and throw the snow at Desmond.

It knocks him clean of his horse, only for him to leave an imprint in the nearly waist deep powder. "Oh it's war I see, come Ser Lipps, we must show the Lady Maege we are not Southern dullards!" He uses his shield as a scoop and flings a good amount into my laughing mouth.

"Sandor!" I feign injury and collapse on my back. "You must avenge me, do not let these brigands defile my body."

"To me lad!" Maege is already flinging a supply of snowballs she's been preparing for some time it seems. "Let's show these knights how to really bite." She throws a barrage at Ser Grell, but he shields himself and waits for an opening.

"Don't let the Lady's honeyed words turn you from your heritage, us knights need to stick together Clegane!" Desmond barks out playfully, but this decides what side my squire fights for.

Roaring at Desmond, Sandor leaps off his horse and brings the two down into the snow. "I'm not going to be a damn knight, I'm going o be a Thane!" They wrestle in the fresh powder, while Maege circles the now very afraid and very alone Ser Lipps.

"What was that about sticking together?" She laughs when the knight swallows heavily, but grins when he doesn't back down. "You'll find winter shows who you can really count on!" She kicks snow into his face and chuckles at the sputtering sounds he makes.


...

​

284 AC
​

Arriving at Castle Black only days after the year changes into the next, I'm surprised when Jeor just growls at his sister. "I came here to get away from you, what possessed you to come visit?"

She just back hands him in response and pulls him into a headlock. "Best be careful brother, you aren't my Lord anymore."

"I need to prove my claims to the Kingdoms, they've come to be witness to the horrors beyond the Wall."

"It was months before our rangers found any evidence, but Blackears and his men got ambushed in the first blizzard of the season." Jeor's eyes sag heavily. "It was only a group of Wildling women and their Baron who saved them."

One of his fellow rangers who has both ears blackened by frostbite jumps in. "I brought back a trophy." Pointing at a head skewered on a spear, everyone who isn't expecting it to move jerks back in shock.

"It's still moving!" Sandor snarls in a panic when he sees the piercing blue eyes. "How is it doing that?"

"The Others make the dead serve them, with winter now here… expect us to encounter more on this trip." I warn the boy. "Fire and steel will destroy the wights, but the Others require something more."

"Still haven't seen these 'ice spirits'," Grumbles Blackears through his thick blonde beard, but he's more hopeful than mocking.

"You'll need obsidian or Valyrian steel to kill one of the Others."

Desmond blinks in realization and gives me a confidant grin. "That's why you wanted Dragonstone, for the caves!" That's one reason, but I could have gotten it cheap from anyone who holds the island. It also technically still falls outside my deal with Oberyn, since it's not the mainland.



Notes: Well I said I was taking a break, but I can't really do anything loud while my grandma sleeps. After an hour of silence, I needed something to keep my mind busy. So I guess just expect regular updates for a few weeks, but only when it's quiet I'll be able to write.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 19: Other People Matter Too
284 AC: Cersei Lannister
​

Enduring these shameful new lessons of learning the Old Tongue, I consider my upcoming betrothal to the Giant's King. Jaime is coming home soon, Father promised me! The raven from Dorne came with conditions for Jaime's release, but Father agreed to all of them.

But why wouldn't he? Father is free to ravage the Reach, he just has to keep our armies from Dorne and he gets his heir back. As I glance over at the Grumkin hunched over his notes, I realize that I might have been given exactly what I want.

I just have to be discreet, but I was given permission to lay with whoever I desire… encouraged even. A smirk of delight slips onto my face when I realize Jaime would be fully expected to step in as a father figure… at least until my betrothed returns, I even let out a giggle.

"Dearest Sister, are you ill?" Tyrion peers at me with his ugly misshapen eyes and my smile vanishes. "Or are you planning some new torture for me? It has been strangely pleasant to dine with you these last few months."

"Father is having you scurry about in the sewers, I have no need to heap more on you at the moment." Turning my nose up at the little pest, I smirk coldly and cut deep with my last remark. "The rest of the castle will be doing that for me soon enough."

Looking sick at the thought, he hangs his head and goes back to his plans. The Maester however isn't pleased to have been interrupted, even to scold the cretin who stole his far-eyes.

"Lady Cersei, how do you say 'I'm sorry' in the Old Tongue?"

I'm saved from admitting I don't know, when the door is slammed open by my fuming father. "The rebels faced off with Rhaegar and the Reach Forces on the Meadow's lands." His hands are shaking in frustration. "The so called Storm King, was slain at the battle of the Bloody Miles."

My heart hammer in my chest at how this could affect everything. "The Prince is marching on King's Landing and has called a Great Council once he brings 'stability back to the throne'."

"Did you tell him about the Wildfire?" Tyrion asks carefully, still wary of Father's wrath being brought down on him again.

"In the chaos of the retreat, neither I nor the other Lords seemed to remember." The calculating coldness in Father's eyes remind me of who I need to be in this world. Weakness only leads to death. "So we agreed the Council will be held at Harrenhal… once the Prince's plans go up in flames of course."

"Which doesn't leave me long to claim lands in the Reach, I intend to add Oakheart and Crane lands to our own." He graces me with a rare smile. "The Rowan and Kidwell lands I find insufficient, so I have sent the Mountain to make our new additions ready for the Lannister flag."

I'm worth at least all of that, which means Father has already decided to accept the Duke's offer. At least Jaime said the beast was now shaven like a proper King, my senses will be spared when next we meet. This is not so horrible, he did say he arms his women as well as his men. I will just need to ensure these Amazons answer to me, it would only be proper for women to comprise my guard.

"You have received a raven from Winterfell." He hands me an already open letter. "Your betrothed has promised Darksister's delivery by winter's end. He also asks for you to create the sigil and words of House Bigfoot."

Father's gaze pierces my skull and I am made fully aware of this great honor… and responsibility. "You will ensure it appropriately reflects your heritage as a Lannister." He turns to a Tyrion and quirks his lips into a confused grimace. "You had better not squander your time here, prove to me that at least some of your blood has worth."


...

​

Varys
​

I can't believe how easily everything is falling into place. As I lead the last hundred towards the docks, I can only hope the rest take my warnings seriously and flee the city. Rhaegar will be here in only a few days and we have already filled the ships to the brim. It shames me to admit it, but many will die for my plans to bear fruit.

Davos has proven himself incredibly useful and I only wish I had wrapped him in my web years ago. Thirty six captains with ships of various sizes have sworn to ferry us North to the Gift, which will at least let me save nearly seven thousand this night.

This will be the last ship we manage to sneak through the blockade, so it's best for me to be on it. I hand of a bag of coins to one guard, who slits his partner's throat and joins our exodus along the docks.

"Hurry up and remember, if you make to much noise… we will do the same to you." Can't have any witnesses, we won't be outrunning active pursuit.

"None of my recruits you wont, they'll face my fist." Garret Hayford the Night's Watch recruiter counters with a snarl. One man in every family has had to swear themselves to the watch, which has given them over a thousand recruits once we arrive.

"My apologies Garret, I of course only misspoke." I may not have been able to get Jaenaera in place with the Targaeryan royal family, but this new Northern Aegon will have to suffice. The royal children are out of reach for now, but the Giant will name Jaenaera the Baroness of Dragonstone.

He accepts my apology with a gruff word, before leading us onto the 'Unsinkable II'. "The name doesn't fill me with confidence I must admit."

"I guess you plan on swimming North," The captain spits out with breath reeking of cheap ale. "What are you, a Merman?" Chuckling himself and not waiting for my answer, he guides the last of this trips refugees under the deck with the others.


...

​

Eddard Stark
​

Victory celebrations had broken out when word of Lyanna was brought to our camp, only to be ended early when the Reach forces had been seen marching with Prince Rhaegar. I wish Benjen had never sent that damn raven, Robert lost his rage and it seemed that Rhaegar was the one who found it.

Our battle was turned into a retreat once Robert fell, with several miles blood left fouling the river in the Meadow's lands. Only the knowledge that Lyanna is safe in Winterfell keeps me going forward. I just want to go home, this war has taken nearly everything I care about.

The Duke will be bring his people South soon and I need to be ready to greet him. I snort when I realize we have a wedding to plan once, if word of Benjen finding love is true.

"You're going to need to hide that grief for the Great Council, we can't have the Warden of the North showing such weakness." Jon Arryn chides me with a stern grimace, but the kind eyes I have always known him for.

"Robert got almost everything he wanted… more than most men get in life at least. Lyanna was brought home safe, his brother told a joke however terrible, he died in glorious battle… and he even got out of being King." I wipe my eyes and focus on the coming battle of words.

I never was good at those, they twist words so much down here it all sounds like hogwash to me. "I'll just do what Robert always advised. Speak as little as possible and keep the Northern scowl on my face." We share a laugh, but it rings hollow to both our ears.

"What will you do if the Prince insists on Lyanna's return?" My good father asks from Lord Arryn's other side.

"Do what I should have done years ago," I admit with shame turning my cheeks pink. "I'll ask her what she wants first. This all would have been avoided if I listened to her back when I first introduced Robert to Lyanna."

As I realize not all have been informed, I speak the grim words. "Which of us will tell Lord Stannis?"

"I will tell my good son," Hoster sighs heavily and squints when the afternoon light nearly blinds him. "I should have met him before the wedding, but after he kept Lysa during the siege… Stannis is deserving of a proper thanks."

"What are we to do about the Giant?" My foster father's face is tight with annoyance. "Word has already come in of King's Landing Refugee's sailing past the Vale."

"As long as they remain in the Gift's old and new, it is none of my concern." The Watch really doesn't appreciate interference. "As long as he brings his people to sea, I am fine repaying him with the use of the Manderly fleet. I've already had them begin construction of barges to be ready for spring."

"If Tywin hadn't joined with us, we would have been crushed by Rhaegar's attack." Growls Hoster, annoyed having to give thanks to the man who offered his dwarf son for Lysa only a few years ago. "Dok Tur has earned his shot at the Stepstones as far as I'm concerned, but he's doing it on his own."

"Since he had given Robert the task of giving him a Southern name, I believe that task falls to us." Smirking at me, Jon starts to share his ideas.

Each one is perfectly crafted to get revenge for having Walder Frey as family now, but I have to stamp down the most obvious. "He's no fool, so if you insist on using this as your revenge… it must be something he only realizes days after he has begun using it himself."


​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 20: Look What We Found
284 AC: Rhaegar Targaeryan
​

The victory over the rebels tastes like bitter dust in my mouth, the knowledge of Visenya being taken has made every flavor the same. My rage burned while I faced the Lord Baratheon, but now it is boiling over.

My escort of five thousand follows me through the Mud Gate and I find it quite suprising how many citizens are just watching in silence. No cheers for breaking the rebel army await us and I can only dread what this means. How many more have you burned Father?

"I need you to bring my family back from Dragonstone." Keeping my voice level, I lock eyes with Ser Barristan who frowns back in concern.

The bold knight knows what is coming, but I haven't had time to confirm for which side he will stand. "You will have need of me when you confront your father." I can trust you with this at least, everything will be over by the time you return.

"Lord Commander Hightower is already waiting, he will be all the protection I need." I can let Elia go home to Dorne now, she should be happy finally. "Everything will be over soon. After this, it's just the Great Council left and the Realm will be at peace."

Making as straight of a path as these cramped streets allow, I notice an unusual amount of holes have been dug on each street. Is Father actually fixing the sewers, he has raved about for decades. Scowling at how many citizens look to be covered in the muck, I miss how many people seem to be holding clay containers.

The crowd follows us to the Red Keep, but at least now I can see some excited smiles gracing faces as they join the procession in droves. The bells even ring twice before going silent again, which means I need to make a donation to the Faith.

Most of my forces are sent to the barracks, for this I will only need a hundred of my best. With only Lord Randall Tarly beside me and my chosen behind us, the populace finally releases a roaring cheer when we enter the castle.

"Father!" I call out forcefully as we enter the throne room. "Your reign of terror is over, it is long past time for me to put the Realm back to a state of security!" Lord Tywin has been Hand before. If I release his heir… he can resume the daily duties, while I focus on the war to come.

"Finally ready to show you're traitor to your family?" Father shrieks at me from the Iron Throne, his rage making him look like a demon against the glow of green flames filling the braziers. "Hightower. Bring my son to me on his knees, begging for forgiveness!"

"I wish you had not forced this end my King, but I stand with you." Gerold draws his blade and levels it against my fuming father. "Your father is no longer fit to wear the crown I agree, but you promise he will live out the rest of his days in the holdfast?"

"I will not become a kin-slayer Lord Commander, he will-" I stop speaking when yelling is heard growing louder in the hallway we just entered.

One of the guards runs in to warn us, but he's gone before anything but a scream leaves his mouth. A ceramic pot smashes against him, before an explosion of Wildfire incinerates the man.

The mob pours into the room on mass and I lose count after two hundred enter. Nearly half have the deadly containers, while one of the men speaks for the crowd.

"We found your presents all over the city Your Grace," He roars fanatically, his matted hair covered in filth from the sewers. "But you gave us far to much of it, so we decided to return it!" As one entity the crowd heave their weapons.

Even though half or more of the clay pots are thrown in my father and I's direction, the rest shatter all across the room. Reach knights are engulfed in the emerald blaze before they can even raise a shield, with only Hightower keeping me from the same fate.

He tackles me behind a pillar that only barely survives it's own explosion, but my father gleefully welcomes his end. "And now I shall rise again stronger than even Balerion!" His cackles are suddenly silenced by over a dozen pots striking him at once.

"You need to get t-" Hightower's instructions are never completed, as the pillar falls on top of him with a sudden crack. When the ceiling crumbles and falls, I spread my arms and welcome the swift end a brick brings. I leave the hard part to you and your sisters, my sweet little Aegon. I pray you and Rhaenys find Visenya.


…

​

Jaime Lannister
​

The second we saw the green flame on the horizon, Queen Rhaella assumed the worst. Somehow the rebels rallied from Baratheon's death and pushed into the city. With this dread looming in all of us on Dragonstone, she sends us with the children to Dorne.

Darling Rhaenys isn't old enough to understand the doom the green smoke signals for her family, but Prince Viserys is aware something horrible has happened. With ten ships out of the Martell fleet, we left the island within the hour.

Once the tenseness of the first day is over, Viserys and Rhaenys each decide to explore our little fleet… separately of course. Releasing a snort at how easily the two can inflame the rage of the other, I'm just relieved Ser Darry is looking after Viserys on one of the other ships today.

I wave at Rhaenys on the boat on our left, while Prince Oberyn chases the acrobatic princess across the deck. I'm going to miss this. Sighing heavily at losing everything I've worked so hard for, I know this will ensure Father's compliance.

"Stop looking so glum Ser Jaime, otherwise Lady Ashara and I will have nothing pleasing to look upon." Princess Elia has a teasing smile on her face when I glance up in shock at her comment.

Beside her with a playful smirk of her own, Lady Ashara waves softly at me. "Yes just like that, you're much prettier when you smile."

I turn away and hope they lose interest soon, because I am not ready to deal with what going home really means for my future. I don't know what they're talking about, the waters around here are a breathtaking sapphire.

To maintain a balance between speed and stealth, Prince Oberyn directed our convoy right down the middle of the Narrow Sea. I can almost make out the coastline of the Stormlands to our left, but that's not what makes my stomach sink.

"Ironborn coming from the West!" I can see more sails in the fleet than our own, but thankfully we are not outnumbered more than two to one. My warning call is repeated on the other ships when they spot the incoming vessels, with half of the fleet moving to intercept and cover our escape.

"More approaching from starboard!" The Lady Ashara shrieks her own frantic warning, her shaking finger pointing East at nine more long ships.

"Make for Dorne!" I hear Prince Oberyn shout, as his own ship breaks ahead of the fleet. At least Rhaenys will get to Dorne, now to make sure we do as well. I snarl as an Ironborn ship slams into our own and eerily silent Reavers climb over the rail.

I dash towards Elia and grab her my arms, carrying her and Aegon right for the life boat at the back of the ship. "Ashara, this way!" She doesn't argue and follows with her own bastard in arm, but the shock of a second collision sends them crashing into the waters below.

"Ashara!" While the Princess screams in my ear, I can do nothing more than kick a barrel onto it's side and roll it into to sea.

"We have to go, the ship is nearly lost!" I hiss at her and miraculously find the life boat still in place. "I will protect you and Prince Aegon, but I cannot do that here."

She nods slowly and I put her down on shaking feet, before lowering the small rowboat to the waves. "Alright, you go first and I'll pass you the Prince."

As I row us through the chaos, I can only thank the Seven we aren't seen by the Ironborn. I'm forced to steer us East and ignore the dying screams all around me. My heart sinks when I recognize the terror filled cries of Prince Viserys, but Ser Darry's shout of defiance is the last I hear of that battle.


...

​

Viserys Targaeryan
​

When Ser Darry screams at the Ironborn and cleaves the first's hand from his body, I start to hope everything will be okay. But that relief crashes down around me when the Reaver doesn't stop fighting.

The man I will soon learn is called Euron Greyjoy, he just shoves his bloody stump in my guardian's mouth. "You want my blood so bad King's guard, you can choke on it!"

Euron howls madly as Ser Darry bites down on the stump, only to stab the brave knight in the side. "Yes… tell the Drowned God I sent you to his halls, if you can remember before he shreds your soul that is."

Growing weak from blood loss, Ser Darry cannot fight back as he is wrapped tightly by a chain. Euron lifts my last hope by his cloak and drags him to the edge of the ship.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of the Sea Dragon here." My captor snarls cruelly. "The crows led me here and I'd say this was a pretty good catch. I got me a claim to the Kingdoms now."

He pushes the dying knight overboard and I don't show my fear, instead remaining defiantly silent. This seems to amuse Euron though and he begins to pat my head… far too hard to be comforting.

"We're going to get along just fine little Prince, you already seem to know rule one." He smiles cruelly and I try to ignore the dying everywhere. "If you can keep up this silence, I might even let you keep that pretty little tongue."​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 21: Big Dreams
284 AC: Dok Tur
​

The water is frigid around my body, but I ignore the temperature and dive deeper. The shimmering of the moon above rapidly fades as I propel myself down into the inky blackness of the depths.

Each powerful thrust of my tail causes my streamlined body to glide through schools of panicked fish. When I lose reach the dark waters, I suddenly know what to do and kind of… squeak out a series of high pitched giggles.

The sound waves bounce off of objects and creatures alike, showing me just how much life is really in these frozen waters. I know that nothing in my territory is larger than me, but some of my prey is truly vicious.

Sea lions gracefully gulp down schools of salmon who have been chased upwards by my plunge. But my target is this new challenger to my seas. Locking on to the squishy mass nearly as large as myself, I point my tusk downwards and charge.

The kraken has it's tentacles wrapped tightly around a juvenile sea dragon, which leaves it exposed to my strike. Crashing into my dinner with all of my weight, I feel my tusk pierce it's soft body and chomp down on the tentacles now grasping for my face.


…


Gasping for air as I wake in a confused panic, I find myself suddenly back in the Haunted Forest. No monster is trying to drown me and I have all of my correct limbs back.

"What the Hells the matter with you?" Maege growls when my freak out wakes her.

"I thought I was drowning… sorry." I'm forced to admit with an embarrassed snort.

Now that it's obvious the rest of us are getting up, Mance chimes in from his place watching the cave entrance. "It's called a dream. Thought you had had those before, or was this 'Bluedream' to much for you?"

"He doesn't swim very good, his armor is full of wood for a reason." My cheeky little squire pipes up, eager to receive the hearty guffaw from Maege.

"Well if you're all awake, we'd better get moving before Fourskins finds us in his territory." Mance douses the fire and kicks Blackears into action. "Go saddle the horses and be quick about it."

"The Baron and his bitches have killed any man who comes too close to his keep," Growls Jeor, almost like he's attempting to out grizzle his sister. "Maybe we should leave you with them Maege."

"Jarlessa Mormont is going to be taking command of my grizzly girls, but they'll be going with her South to Claw Island." My casual remark has Mance and Jeor go still. "I told you my son was getting things ready for me… Baron Tormund Giantsbabe is he don't ya know." I swear I told the Watch when I passed through the Wall on my way South.

Jeor just snorts in amusement. "Any man steps foot on the island and they'll likely lose their manhood."

"Not friends, but those I'm told are rare in the South." She agrees with a smirk that makes Duncan begin the go a shade paler.

"It's not to late to request my land be in the Stepstones… is it?" Ser Lipps eventually manages to mutter out a reply.

"A dozen major islands outside of Essos' control and about thirty smaller ones less than ten miles across." With most of those being only a mile or two and barely able to sustain a single village of a few hundred. "I was already planning on having you as one of my neighbors."

A lone wolf howls in the distance, but we ignore it when no answer comes by the time Blackears returns. "Let's go, looks like a storm is starting to kick up."

The seven humans all stiffly mount up and gracefully allow me to break the trail for them. Overhead and owl hoots out and I catch the scent of a shadowcat stalking us.

"Arm yourselves." I barely have time to get the words out and suddenly the force of the winds triple. The cat's scent is lost to me and I can barely make out dozens of large black shapes flying among the snow.

"Get them off of me!" Blackears is swarmed by the birds I can barely make out is a murder of crows. Some peck at his face and hands, but most of the larger than average flock grabs his clothing with their talons.

Giggling in the canopies of the nearby trees has me grow angry. The Children want revenge it seems, I'm going to have to show them why that is a horrible idea. Like when I spooked the horses and made my intentions clear with Teddy, I force all of my rage into an earsplitting bellow.

The crows scatter as my force of will overwhelms them and Blackears drops into the snow with a painful thud. Grabbing my maul, I start to cleave pine trees clean in half with only a single swing.

"It's the Squirrel People!" I guess they took my slander personally… oops.

Varamyr Fourskins charges at us on a massive elk, slightly larger than even the one whose antlers are in my helm. On either side of him is a normal sized wolf and ferocious black shadowcat, both dashing forth with savage hunger in their eyes. Above him his owl has rallied the crows for a second attempt and they start to dive for my face.

I'm forced to resort to wild flailing of my arms to defend myself… and maybe the occasional chomp on the tasty birds. I don't see Blackears fall, but I do smell his blood and bowels when his throat is torn out by the wolf. This nose is not always a benefit, marching with an army really hammered that fact home every time the wind blew past the latrines.

Duncan's screech of pain is muffled by the blood pouring into his mouth. The shadowcat managed to score a deep slash on his mouth, nearly tearing both lips from the Vale knight's face.

Resolute like a dog guarding it's master, Sandor Clegane brings his horse between the distracted Maege and the charging Varamyr. The antler's of the elk pierce his stallion's throat, but my squire slams his armored fist into the beast nose as he falls.

He rolls like he learned on the ship with Mors and is back on his feet before Varamyr is ready. Roaring with desperate fury, Sandor drives his sword through the Skinchanger's back.

As soon as the one controlling the beasts is dead, most of his beasts go crazy and try to flee. The wolf though, goes right for a stunned Sandor.

"Not finished yet little Hound, don't slip up now." Returning her earlier save, Maege brings her mace down hard on the wolf's skull. Instantly ending Varamyr before he has a chance to regain control of anymore animals.

"Mine now!" My bellowed words carry power I still don't fully understand and crashes against the animals still drawing breath in the clearing I made.

The shadowcat is at once sliding between my legs like a kitten eager for scratches, while the Owl lands promptly on my antlered helm. The elk with the bloody muzzle is last to approach, still skittish from Sandor's attack. Well I guess that makes you Rudolph.

Even as the crows scatter to the winds and the scent of the Children vanishes, I already feel a kinship forming with the beasts. Let's see, are you a boy or a girl? I grab my cat by the scruff of the neck and lift it up for a closer look.

When I learn he's a boy, I start to consider names. While I guess I'll call you Salem and give you to Cersei… She is kind of a witch.

Which means I need a name for you. I cross my eyes in thought as I consider an appropriate name. You aren't a snowy owl, which means Hedwig is out… so how about Hoothoot? I roll the name over in my mind and smile.


...


"You doing alright Duncan?" I whisper to the knight being cradled in my arms and he gives me a look of pained annoyance. "Yeah, stupid question. Forget I asked."

With no horse, Sandor is now riding Rudolph in circles around us in the snow. "Why haven't people trained more stags for war? A mount that can stab someone is incredible!" He doesn't seem the slightest bit disturbed at how close the blood stains on the antlers was to being his own.

"We're inside the Baron's territory now," Mance warns us all with a hushed voice. "I really hope your 'son' is happy to see you."

I can smell the women watching us approach the keep, only to be shocked by how many uunique smells I find ahead of us. I can count over eighty new huts constructed, with a new second wall joining this village to the keep.

"Must be almost five hundred people here and I've only seen a handful of men." Jeor's voice is gruff, but he accepts the flower from a little girl with a tender smile. "Lot more kids than I would have expected, at least a hundred of the scamps are running about."

"You related?" Maege points to a shocking sight. Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun is very carefully tossing giggling children into a pile of fresh snow.

I don't have a chance to answer, as the familiar voice of Tormund echoes across the village. "About damn time you got back here!"

He waves off his female guards and charges right for me. My companions tense but I just catch Tormund in one hand when he leaps at me.

"You have to take the women with you!" He hisses desperately in my ear. "I'm only one man… I can't keep up with the demand anymore. I had to start stealing men on our raids a few moons ago, but the Amazons kill any who aren't up to their standards."

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 22: Everyone Deserves Applause
284 AC: Dok Tur
​

"Do you intend to catch yourself one of every damn beast?" Tormund grumbles in shock when Salem nudges his hand for pets. "And what happened to Teddy and the pups?"

I shrug at the suggestion and know I'm at least going to be doing this to the sheep Mors brings with him. Unruly hell-beasts will need magic to tame them, I have no idea how anyone actually takes care of them. Shepherds are the true champions and I have no desire to be taken down like Goliath.

"Every kid should have a pet, so I gave him to your sister."

"She's doing alright?" He looks uncaring, but I can smell his desperation for an answer. I don't know why it smells so strongly, but it's a stench that reeks like skunk.

Grinning down at my son – who I am having no difficulty thinking of as such – I nod enthusiastically. "Osha stole herself a Stark and is already working on securing her claim with a child." I don't think Ned would have issue with the marriage, but at least she has some insurance now.

"Of course she did," He snorts happily and the stench he was exuding vanishes. "We taught her right." Well you did… I really only had a couple months to impart my wisdom on her.

"He stole these critters from Fourskins." Mance shares a grin with Tormund. "Shouldn't have to deal with raids from his lands anymore."

"Damn fools!" One of the Amazons barks angrily at us. "Now we got to go claim his villages, or it'll be chaos for months!"

"Thane Sandor here is the one who slew Varamyr," The scraggly haired blonde woman blinks in shock at my claim. "Shouldn't he go with you and steal his own people?" Sandor will need a power base of his own after all, since he's so insistent on never stepping foot again in Clegane Keep.

Grinning down at the stunned teen, Maege speaks for the silent Sandor. "When did this happen and what exactly do these titles you keep throwing around mean?"

"He saved a Lady by killing a wanna be King beyond the Wall, I'd say that earns him a title." Drawing my massive maul that I'm now calling 'Timber', I tap Sandor on each shoulder. "I wanted to do this with a proper crowd, everyone should be cheered for at least once in life."

"In the name of Thor the Warrior I charge you to face your fears," Everyone begins to crowd around this strange new ceremony I have begun. "In the name of Father Odin I charge you to guide those under your care."

"By Mother Frigga's name I charge you to defend the young and innocent alike." That's one vow I see no need to alter. "In Maiden Freya's name I charge you to protect those society gives less power." It's not just the women on Planetos who need help after all.

Alright, now comes the part where I make up the last three oaths entirely. "Under the name of the Smith Baldur I charge you to always strive for self improvement, in both body and mind." The Norse don't really have smiths in the pantheon, they get mortals and Dwarves to do it for them. I guess the God of the Wisdom with the most impressive ship ever built is close enough.

"In the Crone Idun's name I charge you with giving dignity to the infirm and elderly." I'm basically bringing the Giants South to Florida for the winter, so let's see if retirement age and some form of healthcare can actually become a thing in my lands. Healthy people can fight better after all.

"In the name of the Stranger…" I only mouth the name Hela silently. "I charge you to be honest for the reasons you kill. Mercy, protection, justice, and vengeance are all worthy causes… but never for selfish vindication shall you draw a weapon and so shall you punish those who do." But go ahead and poison Gregor if that's really what you need to do, I've already charged you to think for yourself.

The Amazons cheer and Thane Sandor blushes like a ruby. Maege however is the only one not satisfied.

"That was interesting I admit, but it still doesn't answer my question." She scowls at me with intense frustration that even makes me nervous.

"He's kind of a knight," Sandor looks furious when I say that, but his expression sort of mellows by the end of my explanation. "But we actually deal with our oath breakers… harshly."

"And what does that make me?" She really isn't letting go of this.

I shrug and relent, if only so she'll leave me in peace. "Jarls are Lords and Jarlessas are Ladies, but we don't hold no difference on what's between your legs up here. Everyone does all the work or dies… except who pops out the babe and who plants the seed of course."

"Of course we don't care, it's so cold we all look the same when pissing." The blonde Amazon I will learn is named Griselda, teases a suddenly embarrassed Tormund.

I ignore the byplay aside from letting a smirk grow large on my lips. "I just added the Essa for the Southern weirdos who think it matters." Duncan scowls, but is forced to let Desmond defend his honor due to his bandages.

Ser Grell however proves he does have some insight in his rather square shaped noggin. "If I think this has all been straight from a children's tale since you arrived in Riverrun, I can only imagine how odd we must seem to you."

"Speaking of stealing people," I call out to the Freefolk women. "Jarlessa Maege Kodiak shall lead you now my Amazons. Bring her and Thane Sandor Komainu to these villages of Varamyr's, show him how to claim his people." Naming her new line after the fiercest bears and Sandor's after the lion-dogs is strangely fitting.

"Bring the Ser Grell with you, he should see this as well." He's going to have to, if he wants to rule the lands I give him effectively. "Duncan has earned some rest though." My words are a relief to the mauled Ser Lipps, who is lead into the keep for care.

As my party is lead off by Griselda, I peer over at my fellow Giant. "How did you get him to follow you?"

"Wun Wun is a vegetarian and kind of a runt," Admits Tormund casually as we approach the Giant I can now tell is almost five feet shorter than me. "Found him and his herd getting messed with by some Children, we chased them off and he's stuck with us for nearly five moons now."

"His herd?"

"He has seven mammoths we keep down by the river, so they don't keep getting spooked by the little ones running about." That is going to be very useful. "The cheese sure has a damn strong taste, but it keeps ya going all day."

I glance back down to a very proud Tormund. "I'm going to need you to get some sleighs built for us, otherwise it'll be impossible to move all the children safely in winter."

"We've had a few attacks by the dead, but they really don't like water." Tormund starts pointing to the far side of the village. "We had Wun Wun dig a trench and fork the river around us. Haven't had a problem since he finished."

"His Tribe took the rest of them North with Mag the Mighty," He continues filling me in. "It sounded like Mag is going to talk to the Giants near the Thenns, or maybe he said he was going to have them eat you… I'm not really sure, I'm still learning how you big guys speak."

"We aren't all guys you know." He looks dubious, so I explain with a casual shrug. "We're all so hairy you just can't tell. Our females don't really have big chests either, the fat is better served in the rest of the body for insulation."

Eleven girls of various ages confront us and I can kind of recognize the as Craster's wives. The oldest who is nearly twenty stands firm with her hands on each hip.

"We've had enough of a father making us his wives thank you." Her sisters all share the firm scowl of determination. "So we've decided that it's best if you stay our Goodfather, Tormund is enough for us."

"Well alright..." I stare at them all in pride. "If you think it's for the best."

My son decides now is a good time to say something stupid. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"No!" I hear over fifty voices yell out as one and Tormund cowers behind my leg.

"Was worth a try."

I ignore his whining and smile at the girls. "As long as you lot are still family… you best each be naming a kid after me."

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 23: Different Points of View
284 AC: Renly Baratheon
​

Stannis makes me leave my meal half finished when the guardsmen enters suddenly. Standing promptly he offers Lysa his arm with a small smile just barely visible before it's gone again. He seems even more nervous than he was during the siege and he wasn't scared at all that whole time.

"Your father's party has been sighted, we should be ready to greet them." He leads us straight to the courtyard, but doesn't protest when I grab a last slice of cheese for the walk. Since the wedding he really has been happier, I wonder why he goes to bed so much earlier now though?

I thought she was going to be mean, but she let me cry when I was scared Stannis was going to die. All three times the Tyrell army attacked our walls, she just held my hand and promised that Stannis could be strong for all three of us right now.

Lysa keeps telling me stories about her brother Edmure and I can't wait to meet him. We don't have anyone else my age here and Stannis says it's not right to play with the small folk. Maybe her uncle can train Edmure and I to both be great knights, so next time I can protect Lysa with my brother.

Waiting in the courtyard since the first roosters called the day's beginning, Patchface see's us approach and eagerly greets us. "Lord's and Lady Baratheon or as they call you under the sea, King and Queen of the Storm." His smile is lopsided as he hops on one foot, only to start stomping the mud underfoot with rapid wet squelching.

"And who else is here but the Storm Prince and the little growing squall." He points to Lysa's belly and giggle like maiden. "She's early by years this I know."

"Keep that madness to yourself, we must make a good impression with Lord Tully." Stannis promptly hisses at the fool, who does stop his stomping with a sad sigh. Lysa however has a strange look on her face as she rubs her belly. She must have eaten something close to spoiling when we broke our fast, I feel fine.

Beautiful horses clad in Tully colors start to march through the gate and my eyes slide over the grosser knights quickly. Knights are supposed to be handsome and heroic, not drab or covered in ugly scars. A few really catch my eye as standouts and I stand a little taller when one smiles brightly down at me.

"Greetings Lords Baratheon." The man who must be Lysa's father calls out warmly to us as he dismounts gracefully. "I am sorry it took so long to bring about this meeting, but I trust my darling Lysa has been in good hands here with you?"

"Of course they have Father," Lysa is quick defend us, making me feel warm inside like Robert never does on his visits. "Renly here even stood as my valiant sworn sword during the siege, he was ever so gallant and wiped away all my tears." She didn't tell anyone I was crying too. I have to ask her brother what her favorite flower is, one of the merchants has new fabrics she'll love and I can get her some in the same color.

"Did he now?" In black lacquered armor and looking like a dashing rogue, Ser Brynden Tully is smirking down at me in curiosity. "How do you feel about taking lessons with me… once your brother feels you are old enough of course."

"I learned to use a spear during the siege!" I'm quick to insist. Stannis said I wold need every inch of reach if anyone got into the room I was guarding. "I'm ready now!"

"More fire in him than you have Edmure, maybe we should leave you here for a few years and toughen you up." Grinning at me, the Blackfish pulls a boy only a few years older out from behind him. "Now say hello and let the adults deal with the boring stuff… like talking." He whispers as if the word alone is evil and shares a wink with me.

Lysa hugs her brother tight before turning to me with a sweet smile. "Could you please show Edmure the castle, you know all the good windows to look out of."


...

​

Olenna Tyrell
​

Memorizing the contents of the letter, I lift it to the rose scented candle. As soon as it catches fire I toss it into the fireplace of my solar. Good to see you have some sense in your skull Quellon, Asha and Willas will be a good match in the face of all these marriages between the great houses.

I'm insulted they all left us out to hang with the Dragons and won't let this stand. Our armies might have been devastated, but we can grow strong again and reclaim our lands… with interest of course. The Ironborn can have the wealth of the Rock, while we keep the land itself.

"Mother?" Mace simpers before me, completely emasculated by his string of recent losses. "What am I to seek at the Great Council?"

"Our land back… though I know you won't get a single pebble back from Tywin." He deflates even more somehow at my cutting words. "So just ensure we don't lose a single blade of grass more… You already have and heir and brothers who can act as regent."

He doesn't seem to understand how precarious our hold on the Reach really is, so I make sure to hammer it home as bluntly as that Giant from the North. "It's a long ride to Harrenhal and we have many families wanting vengeance for decisions made by you during this war. You might not return home to us if you anger our banner men even more."

"Oh..." He goes pale and shakes like a lone flower in a growing breeze.

"It will be at least five years before we are ready to strike back at the Lannisters, so try to last long enough to see it." He might be an idiot but for some reason I still love my son. "So back whoever has the most secure claim for the throne, be it Viserys, Aegon, or even Stannis Baraheon. We need time and independence only leaves us an easy target for all who seek to recuperate loses from this rebellion."

He gives me a look that makes him look constipated. "But you've been saying we have no hope of staying a united Kingdom since word of Kind's Landing arrived."
​

"Every other Kingdom seems to have received a miracle since the Giant's first appearance," I sigh heavily and pat my son's now trembling hands. "Be it the Stark girl suddenly being brought home, The Lannisters finally getting Valyrian steel according to those we captured, and the rest all seem to be growing in size... while we wither away."

"I'm hoping you can make one occur for us." You have no skill of arms or great mind but you are the luckiest man I have ever known. Bring your greatest gift to our aid now, or this might be our end.

…

​

Ashara Dayne
​

In the days since washing ashore on Tarth with my son, Lord Selwyn has been nothing but kind. His wife died in childbirth only four moons ago, making my lies feel bitter on my tongue.

The battle between the Dornish fleet and the Ironborn was seen by all on the island, so I was able to claim myself a Saltwife. With the name Shiera of Lys and the false identity as a Magister's fleeing wife, he has gracefully taken me and Bran into his household.

One more child is not much more difficult to care for, especially not one as sweet as four year old Brienne. Her brother Galladon however is growing quite impertinent.

"You aren't my mother, I can swim if I want to." The nine year old boy is big boned like his sister, which must mean they are Snarks.

"I know the seas far better than you and this calm only hides a rising storm." I remain firm like instructed by Lord Selwyn. "I will bring you swimming when the weather allows and even have the men dig an inlet for it to be safer still."

The Duke might be insufferable in his arrogance, but at least he does seem to care for children. His story of doing the same at Riverrun will hopefully keep any from drowning in these rough seas.

With all of the refugees now fleeing for all of the Kingdoms, it's not safe for me to travel to Dorne on foot. While the Ironborn have shown the Narrow Sea is just as dangerous. I have been offered a new life here and at least for now I will require it.

"Mother would have let me…" He mutters under his breath, but I don't let him get away with that.

"While like you said, I am not her." I smirk at his growing scowl and continue. "So go get dressed and get back to the Maester. I know you are supposed to be learning the Riverland houses with him this afternoon, don't make me go get him."

Galladon freezes in place and I can see the childish defiance leak out of him. "Please don't, I told him I was needed to protect you." His desperation is adorable, so I only tease him for a few seconds before relenting.

"… Fine. But you will need to do something for me if I do." I keep my face straight as he frantically nods in agreement.

"Anything, just don't tell!"

Smirking at the boy, I pass him my son who begins to cry. "Bran needs to be changed."





Notes: I went with Shiera as her fake name, really just as a reference to Shiera Seastar and Dayne's/Stars. Nothing besides a nod.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 24: Teenage Rebellion
284 AC: Dok Tur
​

What started out as bright and sunny winter morning, has shifted into a roaring blizzard only a few hours into our march. Four sleighs are filled with the nearly two hundred children, while the last three are loaded with freshly cut pine trees bundled up like it's Christmas.

Only a few dozen horses leaves nearly everyone older than ten trudging along in the path I break. Though most of the Amazons seem to prefer Wun Wun's trail and leave me stuck in the company of the almost five hundred Freefolk that Sandor claimed from Varamyr's villages.

In total we already near a thousand strong, which means I'm one percent of the way done with saving the Wildlings. I kind of suck at this. The realization slams into me like an arctic breeze and cuts right through even my own thick skull.

"I need to start taking this seriously, or a lot more people are going to die." My voice is a disgusted growl filled with self loathing. "I want Maege and Jeor to scout ahead and lead us through the valleys that are actually inhabited."

"Skirling Pass has a few villages, but the bigger ones aren't along any of the main trails." Tormund frowns but considers how to do what I want. "Might be better if we break off into a few smaller groups and meet the rest of you on the Frozen Shore."

This convoy is going at a steady pace, but I do have to admit they would move faster without us. "Maege and Jeor can go along the North ridge, you and Mance go South and grab anyone you can convince on the way."

"Hear that She-bear!" Barks out my son, eager to have Maege prove herself before taking his women. "We'll bring back twice as many as you do!"

"All I hear is a babe howling for his father's attention!" She roars back and lets out a belly laugh when Tormund nearly trips.

The two groups organize and break off as fast as possible, intent on winning this unnamed prize. Which means I need to start thinking of what the winners will actually get now. Yippee for me.

We make it another hour before the blizzard becomes something even the mammoths won't walk through, which has Wun Wun and I begin rolling massive snowball to break the wind while we rest. The threat of freezing has even Sandor huddled around the fire, but a foul stench has me suddenly alert.

"Defend the sleighs, it's an ambush!"

My warning comes in time for most to react, but an undead wolf pounces on one of the slower Wildlings. This signals the attack has begun and the rest of the rotting canines charge through the gaps in our barrier.

"Don't let the fires go out!" Griselda has an obsidian dagger in one hand and directs our warriors with her bronze spear. Must have stolen that from a Thenn. "It's the only way we're making it through the attack!"

Over a hundred man shaped wights are next to surge over the piled snow and leap on us. But it's the sound of cracking ice that floods my ears and drowns out the sounds of battle. It has conscious thought directing the bone chilling sound and I realize that an Other is behind this attack.

I can't see anything in this storm of white, so I just swing my maul for the most concentrated smell of death. Bones crunch with each sweep as I slam into the horde with grim satisfaction and I slowly work my way towards the smell of frozen midnight.

The blizzard seems to form an aura around the Other, shielding it's form from revealing anything more than a pale humanoid shape. Charging forward like I have with every other problem I've faced so far, I wind up and swing with all my might.

For the first time, my maul doesn't pulp it's target. Instead it freezes all the way up the tree trunk handle to my hands. The wood and stone shatters almost before I realize what happened, with shards embedding deep into both of my palms.

The force and mass behind the blow does send the being sailing away into the sky, with the worst of the storm following behind it. My howls of pain join the shrieks of pain and clashing of blades, but I stumble to my knees and clutch my blue hands to my chest.

I can't feel my hands… The realization just loops in my mind as I watch the dripping blood freeze into bloodsicles. This should hurt, but I can't feel anything at all. I stare in horrid fascination at the dozen frozen splinters piercing my numb hands.

In my distraction, I don't notice the storm growing worse once again.


…

​

Sandor Komainu
​

As soon as the Duke collapses to his knees, I become painfully aware of how close we all are to death. Fire hurt… a lot. But watching the dead tear people apart and then fall to a single touch of fire has resolve grow in me.

Wun Wun is using one of the pine trees as a flaming broom and has left a field of smoldering bodies in his wake. The kids are safe which means I only have person to look out for now.

"Grell, the defense is yours!" Taking charge of my fate, I snap a branch off one of the trees and shove it into the fire. "Roast these fuckers like chicken!"

I dash away from the battle and towards the eye of the blizzard. Dok Tur doesn't seem aware of the Other's approach, but I am. Drawing Toothpick in my freehand I block a blade made of ice.

My arm nearly breaks under the force of the blow but I refuse to drop my weapon. "Fire couldn't take me, A Mountain couldn't crush me!" Roaring in defiance, I swing with my blazing branch right for my foes shocked eyes. "Let's see how well ice does you piece of shit!"

The fire collides with the monster's face only to extinguish instantly, but black steaming marks remain where I struck him. I recover from the shock first and dart myself around the still recovering Other with a determined scowl on my face.

You're strong but Gregor would snap you like a twig, this is just the first step towards my vindication. I slash for the creature's wrist and slice through him like he's made of wax.

His mouth opens and the sound of a frozen lake shattering escapes the Other's mouth. The display doesn't last long as from it's wrist spreads crimson cracks.

Like magma they burn a path towards the being's core and when they touch the pulsating blue heart… he shatters into a fine powder and blows away in the now dying blizzard.

Thunder pounds in my ears and it takes a few seconds to realize it's my heart about to leap from my mouth. I'm not aware when the shocked cheering begins, all I'm focused on is the moaning mumbles escaping from Duke Bigfoot.


…

​

Osha
​

Benjen jumps from his chair as soon as the horn sounds and grabs Lyanna's silver haired boy with a frantic look on his face. He shoves our nephew at me and begins to grow pale, while I just hand Jaehaerys back to his mother unnoticed.

"What are we going to do?" His panic is amusing, something his eye rolling sister agrees with I can see. "The kids look nothing alike, this is never going to work!"

"Don't worry so much" I grab his hand and squeeze. "Let me and Lyanna do all the explaining, it's not like your brother will hit a mother.

"I have no idea what I would do without you," Admits Benjen with his lips growing into a grateful smile.

Snorting at that, Lyanna reaches over and flicks him on the nose. "You'd already be packed and ready to head for the Wall first thing in the morning." You weren't supposed to tell anyone that!

"Well it really is a good thing I stole him, isn't it?" I share a smirk with my good sister and stand with little Raya in my arms. Her dark hair is already starting to come in and with her slate grey eyes really has the Stark look.

"Let's get this over with, I can already picture Ned's scowl perfectly..." Sighing heavily, Benjen leads the way out to the courtyard.

Teddy follows us with a sharp whistle, even though the bear would much rather be sleeping by the fire. The two dire wolves can smell their returning siblings and scamper ahead eagerly the second we step outside.

"You really are safe," Eddard darts ahead of his party to the bemused smirk of the fire kissed lady at his side. "Bigfoot spoke the truth." I hold in a snort at that comment.

He tries to grab the ecstatic Lyanna in a tight hug, only to stop when he sees the bundle in her arms. "Who is this?" Lord Stark asks carefully, before anyone else has gotten close enough to hear our whispers.

"… He's uh… "Benjen fumbles with his words and so I decide to secure my place in this family. I don't know why Dad lies about everything, sometimes the truth is far simpler.

"He's your sister and Rhaegar's bastard Jaehaerys Snow." Even I know that being a true born would cause some kind of problem for all of us. I am learning my husband's ways… it's just going slowly. "Dad told me and Benj to claim him as Raya's twin, but that will only be believed by the blind."

Benjen's brother turns to me with horrified understanding in his eyes. "And who are you?"

"I'm Osha, I stole your brother." I hand him his niece and smirk playfully. "And this is our girl Raya Stark." I don't really care about a family name, but Benjen smiles when I use it.

"In Dad's dreams, he says Lyanna died at the Tower of Joy and you lied to everyone… even your wife and brother about what truly happened." Hearing how my husband would have been a Crow makes me sick. What if I killed him?

"You claimed her son as your own bastard and stained your wife's honor." He winces as the knowledge of what he would do to keep his kin safe makes itself clear in his mind. "You raised him here and never even told him the truth before your death." Dad made sure I knew how important it was for him to go South, I just don't see the same need to lie about every little thing.

Lady Catelyn isn't happy to hear this and lets out an angry hiss. "He what?"

"With the Storm King victorious, the boy's life was always in danger." I remind her with a shrug, careful not to take sides between the two. "Since that is no longer the case, the truth should be known by our family at the least." Talking fancy really does make Lords and Ladies listen more, how did Dad know that?

"And you say her name is Stark?" The fire kissed Catelyn smiles at my daughter, revealing her own squirming bundle of curly haired joy. "While this is her cousin Robb and I hope to get to know you and Lyanna well this winter."

"Guess that means it's my turn to be honest," Lyanna mutters anxiously. "We didn't succeed with everything in the South."

Ned frowns at his sister in clear confusion. "What else could you have sought to accomplish, our entire family is here in Winterfell?"

"Not exactly," Lyanna shrugs and decides to just blurt it all out for all of the household to hear. Probably to get as much of the gossip off of her as she can. "Brandon and Ashara have a little Sand on Dragonstone."​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 25: Time To Work On My Tan
284 AC: Dok Tur
​

I peer down at the smirking face of the village chief of the Caribou People and try not to make a face of disgust at the acidic stench wafting up from the bucket of reindeer urine. We need guest right to progress the negotiations with his people, but this is asking a lot.

Maege ignores my hesitation and grabs her own offered bucket, downing several large gulps without even making a face. "I've heard of this stuff, it's going to make us hear colors." She shoves the jerky into her mouth and chews fast to get rid of the foul taste.

"How is that even possible?" Tormund grunts out around his own swallowing.

The chief just smiles mysteriously. "That is what you will soon discover for yourself." I pinch my nose and down the whole sloshing bucket just to get it over with.

"That isn't nearly as bad as I thought, considering how strong it smells." Choking it down, I eagerly accept my own jerky and tear a large chunk off.

Once the buckets have all been emptied, the village of a few hundred igloos invites us in with wide smiles. The sight of two men repairing the runners for a sleigh makes me freeze. Skis! That would really cut down on our travel time to the Thenns and back down to the Wall.

Sitting down in the snow to watch the two men oil the wood, my body grows warm and tingly. "We need lots and lots of those, so you can all strap them to your feet." I mumble to a surprisingly relaxed Sandor, who's making snow angels beside me with Maege. "You'd all go so much faster. Swish, swish, swoosh!"

"But who would pull us?" Maege mutters back as she adds horns to her angel.

"No, it's not like a sleigh." I correct her with a giggle. "You move each leg by itself and push yourself forward. But we can always get a smith to put blades on boots and go skating on the ice!"

"… That would be like attacking winter itself." Lost in her fantasy, Maege just laughs madly on her back. "Can you hear the blue yet? It's crying every time it slaps the shore."

Streaks of color begin bleeding across the sky, creating a hazy rainbow of color as far as I can see. The edge of my vision is now wobbling wildly and some presence in the distance makes me stagger back to my feet.

"Where you going?" Maege growls when I kick some of the lime green snow onto her face in my rush.

Gazing over the igloos, I see the beach stretch out under the crimson sun. Dozens of who I think are nude sunbathers are soon revealed to be Merlings both male and female alike.

"Want to to go put in a good word with them for you two, I'm kind of a big deal around here." Snorting to myself, I don't wait for an answer and start jogging towards the ocean.

I struggle to get out of my armor, which is definitely not proper beach attire. A I dash across the beach towards the Merlings, the sand cracks under my feet with each thunderous step.

The sunbathers notice my approach and make a mad dash for the waves, but I turn my jog into a mad sprint. My single mindedness muffles the cracking ice beneath me and I don't notice until I'm falling into the shockingly cold water.

The saltwater stings my eyes and I barely notice the Merlings swimming away from my thrashing. The presence that called me towards the ocean surges up towards me and for the first time I am dwarfed in size by something. Even the mammoths are nothing compared to this beautiful woman of the depths.

As different in size as I am to a normal man, this Merling makes her kin from the beach seem like tadpoles. She comes towards me even as my lungs burn and my vision grows spotty, and I know what she wants from me without any words being exchanged between us.

She allows me to slip an arm around her surprisingly skinny arm and carries me back towards to sun. We break the surface and I take a massive gulp of fresh air into my aching lungs.

I pull myself off of my savior's back and crawl up the sandy shoreline, collapsing in a soggy and shivering heap. My senses slowly return to normal as people light fires nearby, frantically shouting about someone freezing to death. I hope they can save that guy, everyone sure sounds worried about him.

"He wasn't supposed to drink the whole thing, I have no idea what he was seeing." Is the last thing I hear before darkness claims me.

…


"I was at least as high as a kite, I have no idea how anyone else ever mistook you for mermaids." I mutter to the walruses on the ice sheet still recovering from my destruction.

The shadow of Pearl swims out from beneath the colony and startles some into the water I can now recognize as freezing cold. She spears one with her tusk for me and chomps down on several for herself.

The enormous leviathan is a cross between a sperm whale and narwhal, with the mouth filled with jagged teeth marking her as a predator. Her blueish grey head emerges from the water with an excited series of chirps and my newest companion offers me the speared snack.

"Oh you're such a good girl aren't you," I pull the blubbery treat off her tusk and scratch Pearl's skin happily. "You just want me to grow big and strong like you."

She isn't eager to leave with the boats, but Pearl will just have to find her own way to the Narrow Sea. I give her one last pat on the head and wave her off.

"Alright girl, you need to keep Sandor safe for me." She chirps sadly at our farewell, but I am reassured by what feels like a promise to care for him.

"Can't someone else go?" My first Thane shows his age and whines. "It's just a delivery and you might need me up here." Sandor's voice is filled with dread.

"It's not just some delivery," I remind him with a calm voice. "This is a promise I made to Tywin Lannister, you know how bad it would be if I did not follow through with it."

Maege slaps Sandor hard on the back, an eager grin splitting her face nearly in two. "Come on Pup, I'm going to need help showing my girls around in the South. Besides… you and Dacey are near the same age, maybe she'll decide to steal you."

He goes pale at the remark, but this just makes the She-bear roar with laughter. "Oh come now, this is no way for 'Sandor the Slayer' to be acting. My girls might bite, but I thought you could do more than bark."

"You need to report in to Lord Tywin, you are still supposed to be spying on me after all."

"But I'm not going to!" Sandor is quick to insist and I smell no hint of a lie on him, only a desperate need for my approval. "I'm sworn to you now. You promised I didn't have to go back to Clegane Keep ever again!"

"You are sworn to me, which means you need to tell Tywin what happened… just leave out the times where I made a deal with Oberyn and Rhaella." He nods frantically at my demand. "And maybe don't tell him all of the dumb things I did, just forget to mention those parts."

He promises quickly, anxious to keep my favor. "I can do that."

"And don't worry, you're not a Clegane any more… the Mountain has no claim over my Thane." His stench of fear fades swiftly with that reminder. "You're only duty once you deliver Darksister, is to protect my betrothed and her little brother until we can be wed." I do still need my castle.

"I think he's just scared of this thing you're deluding yourself by calling a boat." Mance gives the pine wood and walrus bone barge a concerned stare. "Not that I blame him, I have no idea how you think Wun Wun will be able to make the trip."

"Jeor just needs to reach his son," I remind everyone with a frustrated sigh. "Davos should be waiting with the Mormont fleet."

I get a sharp laugh from Maege when I say that. "What fleet? We have fourteen boats big enough for more than five men."

"Good thing it's not a long trip to Bear Island." It'll only take a few trips to have everyone across the bay. "I'll send word from the Wall when we're ready to strike at Dragonstone."

​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 26: Potluck
284 AC: Dok Tur
​

Those few hundred Freefolk who will be coming North to the Valley of the Thenns are practicing on the planks oiled in walrus fat. We only have a few more days before the Mormonts have finished bringing those less capable of winter travel to Bear Island and I intend to have as many survive as I can.

I was able to put it out of my mind at first, but as the days have gone by I have found myself missing the voices I had grown accustomed to. Over a hundred people torn apart and all I could do was moan on my knees.

This isn't a game or even some fantastic dream. Everything I do matters and when I make a bad choice… a lot of people will die. I swallow the bile rising in my throat at the bitter realization and go straight towards the shimmering blue line growing larger.

The Ice River clans are the only other large population on the Frozen Shore and I have to at least try to save them. Even if they are cannibals, I need to know if it's necessity or desire… because one I can try to work with.

"Blood ahead," I snuffle and start steering us in a more Northward direction. "Still fresh too, Someone might still be alive."

The scene I lead my skiers upon is grim, but better than I had hoped to find on the frozen river of dark rumors. A polar bear is feasting on the body of elderly tribesman, who on closer inspection has been staked down to the ice.

Being upwind, I'm surprised when a dozen clansmen emerge from behind a snowbank with spears raised. "This bear is ours, we paid the winter price and my father's sacrifice will not be claimed by you!"

They are heavily outnumbered, but don't back down even as the bear becomes aware of them. The bravery and speech of sacrifice strikes a chord in me.

"Okay." I yell over the roaring and raise my fire hardened tree overhead. "That sounds fair." Thrusting down I kill the bear with a strike to the back of the exposed neck.

Grabbing the kill I smile down at the men who are starting to smell less than completely fearless. "Where do you want me to bring it?"

"… Uh." Wildling collects himself and points farther up the river of blue ice. "Our village isn't to far away."

"Well good, I've been looking all over for you." He frowns up at me in concern for his people, so I try to allay his worries. "I've been granted the right to lands in the South, I just have to steal them first. Anyone who swears to and follows my oaths can come, but the rest will face the Others alone."

I get grim faces when I mention the ice beings. "You trying to make us into Kneelers?"

"Hells no!" My sudden bellow shocks him onto his ass. "People are who they are and I'm not going to even try changing you into something you could never be. I've already got them to accept I do things a little bit differently and the first thing was showing what we do instead."

I explain how we make oaths with mutual bowing and a pact being upheld by both parties, which brings amused chuckles from most of the Wildlings. "You steal and you're all damn good at it, so I'm just going to point you at the people nobody will miss."

The mammoths wont do well below the neck, but Varys should already be speaking on my behalf to find adequate substitutes. I keep expecting him to screw me over, but word of the refugees in the Gift means I don't actually have a reason to get rid of him yet.

Until Jaenaera is old enough to rule on her own, I guess it's in his best interest for me to do as much of the ground work as possible. I'll have to talk to Cersei about it, but I think she could act as regent of Dragonstone… at least until Tyrion is done with my home's construction.

Once he finishes with that, maybe he could find a way to drain Castamere? Don't the Lannister mines only have another twenty years of wealth left in them? If I'm actually marrying into Tywin's family, I kind of expect the low interest loans as part of the deal for putting up with him and his evils.

I am not dealing with the Ironbank, had enough problem with banks that don't have the right to kill you for a late payment in my first life.

"What did you mean about your Father's sacrifice?" Duncan rasps out, only to wince when the cold wind hits his exposed teeth.

"When winter comes and the food is gone, the oldest one in the village offers themselves to the ice." The lead hunter explains with only reverence for his father in his voice. "The sacrifice of blood brings food for the rest and we name the first child to reach two years after the sacrificed."

"Well how about I teach you some of my traditions for getting through the worst of winter." Maege hopefully already has every maple tree on Bear Island tapped with a bucket and spike. It should give the Mormonts a little bit of a financial boost once the syrup is ready, otherwise I'm pretty much out of ideas for making winter even a little bit more bearable.

The Ice River hunter considers the offer and finally puts his spear away. "What do you mean?"

"Gather your clan and we shall show you."


…


It takes nearly until nightfall to arrive back at our own settlement and the Mormont ships make our guests uneasy. The people sent ahead have gotten five large bronze cauldrons prepared over roaring fires, the smell of stew wafts towards many eager bellies as we come to a stop.

The Potluck starts off awkwardly, but once it's made clear that each cauldron is for all to eat from from… the Ice River clan is listening far more intently to my offer of escaping the dead. When I start to stick the bases of pine trees in the ground, I get strange looks from everyone.

"We need to train the children young do we not?" I pull on a coat of deer pelt dyed red and whistle. Mormont sailors rush over with small items, mostly carved animals of some kind and place them under the trees.

"Good boys and girls will be able to get past me and claim a prize, but the naughty children will be forced to try again next year!" My hearty challenge brings excited shouts from the several hundred children who charge right at me.

At first I toss hand fulls of laughing children into snow piles, but soon I start to let the more nimble dart between my legs in pride. Emboldened by the successes, the rest rally and swarm around me towards the gifts waiting under the trees.

I hear parents cheer when their child avoids my grasp and the bonding exercise seems to be working. Giggles from kids who had never met are joining in a symphony that makes me feel warm inside. I finally did something right.


…

​

Stannis Baratheon
​

The words ring in my ears for a few seconds, but finally I'm able to respond to my good father's shocking words. "I have a niece in the Riverlands?"

"And Mya Stone in the Vale, don't know if Robert ever told you about her." Jon Arryn admits with an embarrassed wince crossing his face. As a show of unity we only await for Eddard Stark and Tywin Lannister before our entourages will enter the castle here on Dragonstone.

The Manderly ships have only now been sighted on the horizon, which means we only wait on Lord Tywin and Quellon Greyjoy before the council can begin. War has ravaged everyone's food stores and with winter here now, none of our Kingdoms' are in a position to offer aid to the Crownlands.

Queen Rhaella will only have until spring to secure her claim on those houses, or the lands will be very tempting to recuperate the losses sustained. Which means I only have that long to bring my own banner men inline, for I intend to reclaim the lands lost when the Targaeryans arrived. I know both Lords beside me intend to do the same when weather allows.

"My family is nearly extinct, it won't do for them to be raised as bastards." They will be legitimized by the end of this day. It is my duty to ensure the future of the Baratheons and this will give me nieces to bind my Lords with. "I will need both Bella and Mya sent to Storm's End."

We never got along Robert, but I loved you enough to rebel, I won't leave your children without our name. Lysa will tolerate them once I make it clear they will be warded once old enough.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 27: This Changes Things
284 AC: Eddard Stark
​

When Doran strides inside the room with his two guards and takes his seat at the Dorne side of the Painted Table, I do my best to restrain my burning curiosity. Speaking now will only spoil any advantage I have, need to wait for a better opening.

His brother Lewyn standing guard behind Queen Rhaella shares an intense look with him and grimaces before his face shifts back to one of resolute duty. He offers uninterested greetings to his fellows lords, but my blood burns for an answer.

"Where is my son?" Lord Tywin's furious voice saves me from being the first to speak and I suddenly find myself aligned with his desires.

"You should ask Quellon here!" The roar of outrage that comes from the leader of Dorne is filled with scorching passion. "An Ironborn fleet under his son's flag sunk all but one ship in the fleet. Only Oberyn and Rhaenys ever arrived… so now let me be the one to ask."

"Where. Is. My. Family!" Doran slams his fist onto the table, knocking some of the Dornish troops over from the force.

Quellon is on the spot now and he just grimaces in distaste. "My son wasn't pleased I missed the chance for loot in the rebellion, so he convinced nearly a third of the Iron Fleet to follow him to Essos for great reward."

"Was the Lady Dayne on board?" I haven't seen her on the island, hopefully she's just staying out of sight. "Or my nephew?" No reason to keep my interest secret. The Duke has only reinforced why lies hurt everyone and I want his glib tongue gone from the North.

"Unless Euron has them, I fear them lost to the sea." Admits Doran with a look holding far less vitriol for myself than I expected to find. Lyanna did tell Elia and Ashara of how she was lied to and held captive once she wished to come home… it would seem Prince Doran thankfully does not blame my family for Elia's dishonor.

"If my son has any of them… you had best pray to your Gods that they die fast."

Tywin locks raging eyes with the Queen and slowly stands. "It would seem you have proven just as useless as your brother, I see no reason to continue following a dynasty so wrought with failure." He glances at Quellon, but doesn't spare him any words. That look promises all the revenge in world, no one needs words to know revenge will be coming for the Iron Islands one day soon.

"In a single year my family has gained more than in the entire time the Dragons have been in Westeros." He proclaims with a gleam of something unnamed in his eye.

"All stolen from mine," Lord Mace mutters bitterly, but this just has Lord Lannister smirk darkly.

"You attempted to do the same and gain rewards, I just had by far the better offer."

With a scowl growing on her face, Queen Rhaella tries to bring order back to the discussion. "So what do you suggest Lord Tywin, that we just give your pet Giant the throne?"

"Far from it, for I am suggesting nothing." He gazes around the table and waits for dramatic effect. "What I am doing though… is seceding from the Seven Kingdoms. No longer will the Westerlands be subject to the whims of the God's coin."

He turns and strides from the room with no further words, his two brother's following loyally and also in silence. Quellon's eyes grow wide and a gleeful smirk graces his own lips.

"You're not going to stop him, are you?" Quellon realizes and stands himself, only with a far more sudden surge of passion. "You don't have dragons, you don't have an army, and my son proved the Royal Fleet is useless."

He chuckles in grim humor. "Well then… count the Ironborn out too. we don't go down with the ship, we send them to the seafloor." He is next to leave, with his sons Balon and Victarion following with laughter.

"The Kingdoms will not except Rhaenys as Queen, but Dorne at least will follow our Princess when she comes of age." Doran is next and Oberyn has an eager grin at the turn of events. "Dorne was brought in by marriage, but Rhaegar is the one who threw us aside. I wish you well in the wars to come Queen Rhaella."

His brother Lewyn steps away from the Queen and falls in place behind him. "So it is my niece who needs me to stand guard, I leave the Queen to you my brother." His words shock Rhaella and Ser Selmy at first, but word of Rhaenys has both show they understand.

"My brother's bones will come back and strangle me if I kneel to you now," Stannis blurts out and surprises even himself. "So this is the end of your rule over the Stormlands too."

"The Five Kingdoms doesn't have the same ring to it and nowhere near the same stability." Seeing how this is going to go, my good father speaks next with grim acceptance. "The Riverlands are yours no longer."

"The Vale goes with it," Jon give me a look of concern when I remain silent, with even Mace Tyrell speaking before me.

"And the Reach." Grumbles the Warden of the South. "You haven't gotten my lands back and it's clear you don't have the ability any longer."

Ashara is dead… I never even got a chance to meet Brandon's son. If that damn Giant had just stuck to his mission, they'd be alive right now. "I owe the Duke much for saving my sister from your son, but he has now caused me nearly as much pain with his lies."

"The North will face the future without the Targaeryans, but you have been as much a victim as any of us… I will not be the one to ad more pain." I don't really know what Dok Tur wants, his actions have proven he will lie to any for his cause… but what that is yet to be revealed.

"We have had more than enough death this decade, so I give you this warning Queen Rhaella." I lock eyes with her and ignore Hoster and Jon's motions for silence.

"Come spring Duke Bigfoot will come for your islands and the first of his Giants is already on Bear Island… I have been informed he has nearly a thousand more to gather." This should slow him down, or at the very least give an innocent woman the chance to escape even more pain.


…

​

Elia Martell
​

The three days at sea nearly killed us, but Jaime's white cloak provided enough shade for Aegon t endure. My strong little Prince refused to give up, quick like the resourceful teen I had always overlooked.

Jaime only dozed for a handful of minutes at a time, but when we finally arrived on the beach he did not let down his guard. The slavers who had seen our approach for hours waited on top of the grassy hill with weapons drawn. Aegon's last protector didn't falter though and kicked the rowboat back into the waves.

"Do not watch this Princess, keep your eyes on the waves and stay away from shore until I am finished with these brigands." His voice is filled with arrogance, but only now am I hearing the fear it covers. "If I do not call for you in a few minutes, row North for Pentos."

He draws his blade and strides forward on shaking legs. "Four against one is quite unfair, I think you had best arm some of your captives or-" His voice grows weak and he collapses onto one knee, making it impossible to tear my gaze from the heroic Lannister.

"Don't tell yer betters what to do Boy-" The larger man with a Bravosi look is first to reach Jaime and moves to kick him onto his back. Except Jaime rises suddenly with a roar and his foes dies gurgling when a sword is shoved through his throat.

"Good thing my betters are all back in Westeros," He mocks the now rage filled slavers and disarms his next attacker right at the elbow. "I thought I said you'd need some help, should have listened." He rolls around an ax swing that sends a sand cloud into the air and drives his blade through the bearded man's back.

The final warrior is better than his men and manages to slam his pommel into Jaime's wrist, forcing him to drop his sword in pained shock. My gasp of fear is unnecessary, because Jaime dives onto the sand and rises with the woodsman's ax.

He shows his placement was as much due to skill as to punish his father and cleaves the final slaver in half at the waist. "I told you not to look Princess." He shocks me out my stupor when he splashes back into the water towards me. "But it seems we now have horses."

As he pulls Aegon and I back the beach, I watch the prisoners struggle to get free of the cage being pulled by a dark grey ass. The slaver's horses are tied to the cage, but seem well trained and none are trying to break free.

"Why do they all have blue hair?" I ask Ser Jaime as we approach the cage with almost twenty malnourished people inside. "Probably to make it easier to see them escape, but we're going to use it to blend in… or at least me and Aegon will, our hair will mark us as valuable."

When it looks like he's going to leave the captives behind I stop him with a disappointed hiss. "We aren't leaving them here."

"But they'll just slow us down!"

"Not anymore than a babe will." I insist with a firm stare, eventually making him bend to my will. Haven't been able to do that since I got married.

He growls under his breath but does wave the people away from the edge. "Fine. But if we get attacked again, I'm taking you two and leaving everyone here to fate." While he hacks away the wooden bars, I look through the saddlebags for the blue hair dye.




Notes: I hope everyone who was annoyed by the SI's focus on bringing Jon/Bran North, see why I did so. Now everyone thinks he's dead and it was my fault. So many authors need to bring all the starks/snows to winterfell and make them all happy. I wanted that as part of the subversion.​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 28: Confirmation Bias
284 AC: Dok Tur
​

When the Freefolk and I reach the beginning of the slope, I stop and untie one of the sleighs from it's mammoth. "Don't stop, I'll meet you at the bottom!" Or not, but for the first time I'm not focused on my own selfish interests and this has filled me boundless energy.

A few dozen fell to the wights that surged out of the tunnels of the Cave Dwellers, with over a hundred dropping in our frantic dash to the mouth of the valley. The skies give us just enough of a boost that most of us will make it.

Grabbing the sail tied down to keep the food dry, I lumber over to a sheep sized boulder. "I said go." Mance and Lipless are refusing to leave me and I can't afford to wait any longer… the horde is almost across the valley.

"Not happening, we all know how bad your eyesight is and you need spotters for this." Mance hisses back at me and keeps his eyes trained on the charging dead. "On three you're clear to throw."

Duncan moves a few paces beyond me and judges the cliff behind him. "Throw it right above me and you'll have a hard time missing."

"Three!" Mance barks out suddenly and I release one end of the sail's ropes, sending the boulder rocketing towards the snow packed mountain. A muffled 'thump' echoes and then leaves us in uncertain silence.

"Maybe throw anoth-" Whatever Duncan was going to recommend is never finished, as the sudden cracking sounds above us. "Go!" He starts to move as fast as he can and is first one to reach the slope.

Mance and him get a good head start on me, but the weight once I leap onto the sleigh has me barreling past them. I scoop Mance up easily, but Duncan crouches down into a ball for as much speed as he can get. Which almost flips us when I do finally snag the back of his collar and toss him into the sleigh.

The trail left by the mammoths guides us thankfully away from the rocks and trees, but the sight of an already broken icy creek worries me. "Hang on!"

Shifting my weight to the left, I steer us towards a snow covered ledge. We sail right into the air as the avalanche catches up to us and come crashing down into it as the snow comes to a stop.

The sleigh shatters when we hit the ground and my weight sends me headfirst into the snow. My head hits something hard and I'm very glad I'm wearing a helmet, because I think it just broke in half.


…


Swimming below the wooden fish filled with my friend's people, I guide them towards warmer waters. They aren't aware of how many times my presence alone kept the other predators away, but I am finding this a very beneficial relationship.

Normally I have to spend days or even weeks hunting down meals large enough to fully satiate me. But now… I only need to wait for my food to come after the hairless calves above me. And every time time I do surface to guide them away from rocks, the calf who smells like my friend gives me snacks. No wonder the white squawkers are always flying around them, they have so much food.

My echo comes back distorted and I realize that whatever is below is unclean. I need to take a closer look, my sounds aren't able to tell me more than some kind of strange rock is in the darkness.

Flicking my tail powerfully, I dive to the seabed and growl. The darkness isn't shadows being cast by the rocks… the rocks are the darkness.

A city like the ones I have seen above the waves is made of oily black stones, with pale hairless figures watching my approach with concern. They are slightly plumper than the hairless calves on the wooden ship, but as the flesh of each moves closer to the torso it takes on a sickly green hue.

Hundreds of them swim about the settlement unconcerned by my presence, but the watching warriors move between me and the city. "My pod's babies! Stay away!" My chirped roar stops them in shock, butt finally the leader makes a gesture of acceptance and they descend back into the city with no violence.

What would they do without me, the hairless calves never look down.


…


Everything shifts like a kaleidoscope of light has struck the water and I find myself in my own body again. My lungs burn and I have to climb the rocks that reach above the waves quickly. I surface at sunrise amid a series of smoking rocks that jut out above the surface of the Smoking Sea.

A single glowing star hangs in the air above one island large than the rest and I feel drawn to her. Somehow I know the light is a she and not an it, but my gaze is quickly steered towards the darker waters of the West.

Hundreds of blood red sails approach in deadly silence. The water around the armada ripples and it takes me a few moments to realize it's a mass of tentacles trailing behind a Kraken that looks as big as Bear Island.

It's not the only sea monster protecting the Ironborn fleet, I can see the undulating body of a Sea Dragon surging through the middle of the ships. A one handed man with lips of blue stands of the prow of the flagship and points towards the star with the Valyrian steel trident he has in place of his second hand.

On the Sea Dragon's head is Viserys, but he has none of the cruel arrogance I saw in the show. All I can see in his expression is misery and fear… with just enough resignation to churn my stomach.

Black feathers begin to fall like snow and in seconds my vision is replaced with a blanket of blackness.


…


My vision returns to the blinding glare of white snow, but now it comes from dozens if not hundreds of eyes all at once. Hundreds of meters above the ground I watch an army of dead men and beasts burrow at the base of a Weirwood tree.

The Other leading this horde of wights glows blue briefly as he breaks a barrier of earth magic and his forces surge inside the den. Screams echo and my heart clenches in grief, but this scene is repeated dozens of times as my eyes soar over the frozen landscape.

When no more burrows of Children remain to be slaughtered, the Others turn towards the Humans and Giants finally. The horde that decimates Hardhome in the show instead marches on the valley of the Thenns. I have time before this happens it seems, but how much I am left in the dark on.


…

​

Tyrion Lannister
​

When Father returned from the Great Council on Dragonstone I expected Jaime to be with him, not the grim faced Prince Oberyn of Dorne. Learning what Euron Greyjoy had stolen from both of our families was all the explanation I needed though.

Cersei's grief is the most visible and she clings to Prince Oberyn's vow of vengeance. She better be discreet, because I don't think Oberyn likes her betrothed very much.

Another thing I find myself surprised by is Father's continued… not kindness exactly, but maybe honest evaluation. "With Jaime lost to us you are my heir now, so you have until your sister whelps a boy and raises him to his majority to prove you deserve my crown."

"How?" I won't fail, otherwise everything will go back to how it was before… only I'll deserve the scorn. "And why?" With more bravery than I've felt in years, I bare my teeth to Father… and his eyes approve? "You never thought I was more than a curse from the gods."

"A Lannister pays their debts and we both owe this family for the same crime," He admits with a nearly unheard waver in his voice. "My desire for more is what brought your Grumkin blood to the surface, now you will ensure our family is the one who receives all three boons." The gossip I've been hearing is true, I'm not just a freak?

"It sounded ridiculous, but the speaker had nothing to gain with his words." Father scowls at his shaking hands. "My agents searched for families with children like you and they found several 'miracles' received by whoever raises them well. Most are small gains but so are those families losses… we lost the most valuable woman in the world and now the magnificent Jaime."

"And you brought word only days before we are to finally gain a Valyrian steel blade." I whisper in realization, making him scowl back at me.

"We also have gained more land than any Lannister has in the last thousand years," Father growls in frustration. "Jaime really was worth a lot to the Seven it would seem."​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 29: Dowry Delivered
284 AC: Sandor Komainu
​

Maege and I are led inside the familiar gates of Casterly Rock, her four daughters and most well behaved Amazons with us. My armor one of the few things the Duke insisted I receive before sailing South.

'Impressions matter and I need the first thing Tywin sees when you walk in, to be how improved your station is since working with me.' His words ring true, because even people who should remember me are showing deference. One maid even smiled at me when we entered, of course she can't see the burns.

King Tywin is waiting in silence on his throne, a resplendent crown of gold rests on his head. On each side of him sits one of his children and I nearly trip when I see Tyrion being being given the respect due his position.

"Clegane, you look well." His words come out in an appraising drawl, his eyes slowly examining me as I begin to sweat.

"Not Clegane anymore your Grace," I manage not to mumble as I unbuckle the sheath from my waist. "The Duke gave me a title of my own and a new name to go with it."

I get a single raised eyebrow from my former master, with Lady Maege coming to my defense. "The Lion-Dog here rallied a defense against the dead and even saved Bigfoot's life."

He shifts his gaze back to me with those words and I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room join his. My hands shake as I approach and present Darksister, barely noticing the absence of the weight when he lifts it to eye level.

"Finally." He draws the blade and reveals the dark ripples of Valyrian steel. Turning to Cersei who's eyes are rimmed red, King Tywin hands the sword to her. "This is what your hand was worth and never forget that. My armies could be bought with lands, but only one person delivered on his priceless promise."

"And we pay our debts," Her voice doesn't seem nearly as angry as I expected and a quick glance shows she has a look of contemplative acceptance. "Though I do find so many armed women an oddity."

Maege just snorts and slaps the mace hanging from her waist eagerly. "Dead men and women alike will rise, can't fight them off with only half our people armed. I've been told to offer you any training you ask for, so what weapon do you want to start with?"

Shocked by the offer, Cersei's hand tightens around Darksister. "This one." A deadly smile spreads across her face and even the King is surprised by her vehemence.

"That is a Lannister blade," Her father reminds her with no emotion, expecting her to convince him of her own accord… or fail for all to witness.

"And you said it was worthy of my hand." Smirking back a him in confidence, Cersei presses forward with her claim. "I will be a Lannister until the day I die and Darksister will keep that even farther away."

"Woman are not knights in the Seven Kingdoms."

She rolls her eyes and goes for the kill. "Well it seems that only two Kingdoms' opinion matters to us and these Amazons show I will be expected to defend myself. What have you said my whole life… even the best is just making due?"

"It's a good thing the sheep's opinion matters not one copper." He finally relents with a satisfied sigh.

"I'll just have to convince my betrothed to find you another one."

…


When Prince Tyrion wants to go for a ride, I am the one he calls on the lead the escort. The eleven year old peppers me with questions about my trip and I don't think he looks at the road once the entire way to the creek.

"Did you go to the top?" When I get to the part about seeing the Wall in all it's magnificence, his eyes shine with envy.

"Why would I want to do that?" I slipped a half a dozen times at ground level, no way I was going to chance it just for a look around. "One wrong step and I would have been a smear on the ground a few minutes after I fell… just enough time to realize how stupid it was."

"Because it's one of the Wonders," He almost sounds hurt by my lack of interest, which makes me shift awkwardly in my saddle. He's not a brat, just curious and I actually answer his questions… the ones I know the answer to at least.

Grunting back doesn't satisfy the Prince, so I'm forced to elaborate yet again. "I was more worried about what a wall that big was meant to keep out."

The men following behind go silent and I pretend they aren't listening in. I am supposed to spread word of the Others while I'm here.

"Found out it was blueish white people made of ice and nearly as strong as the Mountain." Gasps come from the men when my brother is mentioned. I guess he gained a reputation while sacking the Reach. "They control the dead and send them like a swarm of ants against any who draw breath."

My words are filled with terror I still haven't managed to control, the piercing blue eyes remain locked in my mind as what will end me. "Fire became my friend up North and I never thought I would say that."

Tyrion glances at my cheek and gives me a nod of sympathy, one of the few who can do so and not fill me with rage. "I'm sorry you have an even worse sibling than I."

"And I'm sorry you lost the good one." I raise a hand to stop him when he tries to say more.

The shrill sound of scream has me straining to find the direction. "You two, get the Prince back to the castle!" My bellowed command startles the escort, but the chosen two flank and guide Tyrion away despite his protests.

"Every else with me!" I lead the other four guardsmen deeper into the woods and soon the screaming is heard by all.

Half my party goes wide around the clearing to cut off escape, while the rest of us charge into nine men who remind me of Gregor… in manor if not size. A girl only a year or two younger than them is pinned to the dirt and her screams have become sobs.

I give no warning and shove my sword through one before he's even aware of who we are, while my fellows add another pair to our count. Each man's face has morphed into my brother's and I lose myself to red vision.

Screams of pain and terror mix around me, but I ignore them and keep swinging. I realize the men are trying to flee and one is even on his knees begging for mercy… my sword removes his head all the same.

The last man who still stands against us swings wildly for my face with his knife and suddenly my vision really is red. The stinging pain in my eyebrow pours crimson onto my face and obscures half my sight.

I don't see him die, but I do feel my blade pierce his gut and kick his body clean from my sword. "Is that all of them?"

"Yeah… we got them all." One guard confirms and hands me a handkerchief, which I gratefully use to wipe the blood from my eye. When I still can't see from it though, I finally get hit by the searing pain all at once and collapse to my knees screaming.

The four men are still terrified of my Clegane rage being turned on them, but the girl has no knowledge of my families reputation. She grabs the cloth again, only to toss it back in the dirt when she realizes how bloody it already is.

Tearing a strip off the bottom of her torn dress, she wraps the rough cloth around my head with a tenderness I can't recall having ever been given. "Does this hurt?"

"I've had worse." Blushing under her attention, I notice my burns don't even make her blink. "What about you, did they hurt you?"

"Not yet, it would have been worse if you hadn't led your men to save me." I'm about to correct her, only to realize that the men have been assigned to my command. "Who pray tell is the brave knight that saved me from such a grim fate?"

"Not a knight," I insist firmly, making her frown in thought.

"A squire wouldn't be dressed so well… are you a Lord?" She starts to pale from her lack of manners and I shake my head firmly to dispel that idea.

Sighing at having to use my title, I'm at least relieved that it's newness leaves her blank faced. "I'm Thane Sandor, one of the Giant's men." A cough from one of my men reminds me of my own courtesies. "And your name?"

She giggles and blushes nearly the same shade as me. "Tysha."​

 

[Flightless Man]

Chapter 30: Let's Get Ready To Rumble
284 AC: Dok Tur
​

A few inches taller than even myself, Mag the Mighty peers at me with crossed arms. On each side of him is three Giant patriarchs, all seven snuffling constantly and finding something odd about my scent.

My normal tactic of talking over everyone has had virtually no effect, Mag and his fellows just don't understand the abstract concepts and turns of phrase. All I seem to have done is piss them all off. The longer I talk, the deeper the scowls before me grow.

My fear of being unable to speak the Old Tongue was groundless. As soon as Mag spoke to me, my words came out in the single syllable speech of the Giants.

"Talk done," He growls down at me and shakes his head in disappointment. "Lots of words… but they not save us from dead."

I knew this might happen, so let's go with plan Baratheon. Shock and awe them into submission. "Fine, you done with words?" All of them nod as one, with roars of agreement from the nearly thousand strong number behind them.

"I will save you, but you must follow." I carve a deep ring in the snow with my fire hardened tree spear and start stripping down. The smell of grease wafts from my blubber oiled body as I rub dirt into my palms and clap loud enough to startle the reindeer.

"In the South they have a Trial of Seven," I call out to the assembled Giants and Thenns watching eagerly. "Since I'm trying to save our people, we will do this with no weapons!" My bellow gets roars of dissapointment.

"I will face you one at a time, the winner is the one pushes the foe out of the ring, makes them submit, or knocks them out!" Roaring the last part regains the crowds waning interest in me. "Now who's first?"

With an echoing clap I settle into a crouch that I hope at least resembles a textbook Sumo stance. Mag snorts in amusement and lets his most eager companion stomp into the ring.

Wog Nak the Woolly is covered in a thick coat of shaggy black hair, with only his palms showing more than a sliver of light tan or maybe even peach colored skin below. My own is far darker after a half year spent shaven under the sun, but this flesh has never seen the light of day.

"Me go first and last." He brags to cheers from his supporters. "You gonna cry so much, your face freezes closed!"

He charges forward as soon as he's inside the ring and I barely have time to back out of his path. I stick my leg in front of Wog and wince when he slams into me. Nearly broke my damn knee!

I hobble towards his sprawled body and shove one hand under his chin, with the other grabbing his thigh firmly. Heaving him above me I make eye contact with Mag and roar at him. "Next!"

Wog struggles in my grip but isn't used to my far from professional wrestling, leaving me free to toss him clear out of the ring. He slams into the snow beside Mag who doesn't look disappointed anymore, now he looks eager to smash my face in himself.

My next challenger catches me off guard, with Nok Big-Tusk pinning me beneath his bulk. My greased body just slides out of his fingers though and allows me to slap him had on the ears.

He roars and falls backwards which I take full advantage of. I grab a wrist and ankle in each hand and start to spin in place for momentum. When I feel myself growing sick, I release my second challenger and send him soaring into a snowbank.

"I said one at a time!" My swing for the twin on the left is somehow dodged, but I'm not so lucky with my own jab to the face.

Staggering backwards a few steps, I feel a pair of tight arms attempt to wrap around me. I slide out of whichever twin has a hold of me and drive an elbow into each of his feet.

While he howls and collapses on his backside, I whirl around to fight his cheating brother. Only to realize I'm just seeing double when the crowd is filled with copies. Okay I need a breather, let's finish this one slowly.

Stomping behind my foe, I put the Terrible Tug into a choke hold and begin applying pressure. He struggles hard, but it really is hard for us to scratch our back and that leaves me with my third challenger sleeping on the snow.

"You can do more than talk, I not gonna eat you now." Hok Weg the Hungriest rumbles to me as he enters the ring, his red fur masks the bloodstains of his earlier meals. "Even if you do smell like food."

He gets the first few hits in, but they just slide off my boy as glancing blows. My follow up jabs to his gut come fast and leave him gasping for air. Planting both hands in the snow I lift myself up and kick with all my power.

Hok Weg is sent rolling out of the ring and I'm really starting to feel confident. Giants are big but aren't used to fighting each other beyond a minor scuffle, I can at least remember how to fight someone my own size.

"Still want a piece of me?" My words do nothing to dissuade Suk Kur the Skunk and the oldest of my foes is next to face me.

"When you shut up?" He snorts in irritation and kicks snow in my eyes before throwing himself at me. Pinned under the fatter and far stinkier Giant – even with my blubber moisturizer – I gasp for air desperately.

"When I win!" Everything has been on easy mode for me so far, I can't just fold under something any of my followers could do. I roll to the side and brace myself on one arm, before quickly thrusting with all my might.

It sends him tumbling off of me and gives me time to clamber back to my feet. Suk Kur shows his age and gets up slow enough for to get a running charge.

The shocked look on his face when I jump sideways and drive both feet into his chest fills me with pride. But when he stumbles backwards and falls out of the ring, I punch the air in triumph.

Byr Keg the Biggest grabs me from behind and I realize all this fighting has worked most of the blubber off of my body. I have a harder time wriggling free from his grip and am forced to slam the back of my head against his face several times.

His roars of pain get cheers from the watchers, but I have to focus on finishing this. Bursting out of Byr's grip I swing for his jaw with every ounce of weight I posses.

He staggers back in a daze but is still in the ring unfortunately. My approach isn't quiet and he doesn't react beyond his continued stumbling. A single shove is all it takes to send my sixth challenger out of the competition.

"No more tricks." Mag the Mighty declares firmly and steps into the remnants of my ring. "I stronger and I will win."

I brace myself for his charge and our hands collide with a meaty smack between us. His momentum gives him the initial advantage but I smirk when the smell of walrus grows thicker.

Twisting to the right, I let go and leave Mag to slam face first into the slushy blubber coating the snow. He's fast and tries to get back to his feet for more, but I'm desperate and exhausted.

I kick him square in the ass and send him sliding right out of the ring to shocked silence. As I realize that I actually won, my followers start to cheer, with the Thenns and Giants soon joining them.

"You not all talk," Mag admits with a satisfied grumble as he licks at his cheek. "You can lead."

"You can also put your clothes back on!" Roars Mance. "Your hair hasn't grown back in long enough to be fit for public viewing."

I smirk back at him and give a little jiggle. "You're just jealous."

"More like I'm horrified for your betrothed, I really hope she's blind… or you get some personal stable boys to keep you clean shaven."

Ignoring him, I walk towards the Magnar of the Thenn and smell no anxiety from him. "You next?"

"If we follow, where will you lead us?" He stays stone faced.

"Somewhere warmer, where the dead don't rise again to tear you to pieces."

Smiling at this he nods slowly. "And the Crows?"

"Have seen the real enemy themselves." He finally bows and swears the Thenns to my cause of survival. "Now gather everything you place value in, we march for the Wall in two days!"



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