One Giant Growth Spurt (ASOIAF Giant SI)

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.​

 

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.​

 

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.”​

 

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.”​

 

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!”



​

 

Chapter 31: Ha Ha, Now You’re In Charge
284 AC: Mace Tyrell
​

I saw Mother’s expression when I left Highgarden and it was worse than usual. She doesn’t think I can save our house, but have I ever really shown otherwise? I have no one left to hide behind, anyone with the power to stand beside the Tyrells will just take everything for themselves.

As my men raise sails and our fleet prepares to return to the Reach, I realize exactly how much surplus food I have right now. An idea forms in my mind slowly and I whistle for the Captain.

“Bring us to Duskendale, I hear they are beset with hungry rioters.” The Crownlands are in open revolt with only Crackclaw Point, Massey’s Hook, and the three largest islands still sworn to Queen Rhaella. “As the King of the Reach, it is my duty to see our lands grow.”

Mother will be so proud when I bring the western part of the region under our banner. “Once we empty our food stores I want the fleet sent back for more. If we feed the people through winter, the Kingdoms that wait for spring will be too late to buy their allegiance.”

If one in five died during the Dragon’s Pyre, that leaves over four hundred thousand hungry mouths swarming the Crownlands. Scowling at the situation the Lannisters have forced on me, I consider what can actually still be salvaged.

Only half the capital is habitable and it was mostly the richer areas and the slums that burned. “Have twelve thousand rearmed and sent here to garrison the Crownlands against incursion from the North or West.” With the poor forced to seek food in the countryside, it’s a shame so much went to the royal army… good thing for me though.

“What about the Stormlands?” Ser Shermer is nearly as surprised as I am at this sudden surge of forethought… he doesn’t hide it though.

“With all those bandits in the Kingswood, King Stannis will be unable to bring his forces to bear without us being aware.” I smirk when his mouth forms an O in silent understanding.
…

​

Davos Seaworth
​

When Lord Stark and his entourage return to White Harbor, he has the look of a man unsure of his most recent choice but committed to it anyway. His brother who has been overseeing construction of the transport fleet with Wendel Manderly and I notices the look and sighs heavily when we four are alone.

“What did you do?” Benjen is a young man of only five and ten, but Osha has toughened him up enough that he doesn’t balk at his older brother’s tired growl. “I know that look. It’s the same one Brandon always had… when he had lain with someone he knew he shouldn’t have.”

“Now Prince Benjen, is that any way to address your King?” My eyes go wide when I assume this means he was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms somehow and I drop to my knees immediately. “The Realm is divided and I believe we will be known as ‘the Kings who crowned themselves’ in the years that follow.”

The newly declared Prince gasps at the news. “We’re independent?”

“Everyone is now, with most of the Crownlands undeclared and in open revolt.”

“Which means the Ironborn will be striking our western shores soon.” Ser Wendel realizes with an agitated hiss, his plump face going a bright puce as he grows angrier. “We don’t have enough ships to defend to coastlines.”

The King of Winter grins at the Manderly knight warmly and even I can hear the offer being made. “It’s a good thing you have so many men learning how to build ships, my sister Princess Lyanna will need someone of your dedication to aid her at Sea Dragon Point.”

“You and Osha will be moving to Moat Cailin come spring, we will need it restored to keep ourselves truly secure from the South.”

Benjen considers the order and shrugs. “Better than you sticking us on the Stony Shore. Wun Wun doesn’t really seem interested in all the plans for fighting so I think we’ll bring him with us, will really cut down on the rebuild time for the walls and towers.”

“I will be needing to speak with your father and the Dustins about giving my brother enough lands that he can establish a tower on each each shore.” King Stark speaks to the burly knight with a thick blonde mustache. “The North will be coming to rely on your family much in these coming years Ser Wendel.”

The man who resembles an armored walrus kneels and swears himself to King Eddard. “Don’t worry Your Grace, my house will not fail the Starks and I will not fail the Princess. My honor and very life are hers.”

“What about the refugees from King’s Landing?” The King’s eyes shift to me now and I feel the weight of his evaluation crash against me.

“Yer Grace, the thousand who joined the Watch have had no deserters yet.” Word of the city burning has reached them and suddenly being chilly isn’t so bad. “Most families do wish to go South again with the Duke’s fleet, but nearly two thousand will stay to work the fields.”

He’s happily surpprised and turns back to Prince Benjen. “And the Wildlings, how many problems are they causing? Are the food stores suffering too badly?”

“They haven’t really put much of a dent in our food supplies, in fact most castles hosting them have reported a surplus.” Benjen smirks at his brother’s shocked face. “They taught the Mormonts how to collect and boil tree sap into a delicious syrup. We’ve also been shown that pine needles can turned into a tea.”

“The thousand or so from the Frozen Shore we have helping out at the docks, they say this is still just a balmy fall.” Wendel snorts at the sight of snow falling outside the window. “They have no problem taking a boat out in the weather none of our fishermen will dare. I bet it’s much the same with the harvesting of winter crops and hunting in waist deep snow not slowing them down at all.”

“We got some ‘skates’ from the Mormonts to.” Adds Benjen with an excited grin. “It looks like they strapped them to strange curved knives sharpened only on the bottom side, but Lyanna is already gliding across the frozen pond in Wintertown. The Smallfolk thought it was fun to watch us all fall at first, but now they just cheer for our sister’s dancing.”

“I like this ‘sport’ they came up with and am looking forward to bringing my knights to Winterfell.” Grabbing one of the wooden shafts as long as a spear but with a curved wooden head shaped kind of like a scythe, Ser Wendel hands it to his King with a grin. “We’ve been training for the battle since we received instructions for our smiths.”

Caught up in the competitive spirit Benjen fires back with a grin of his own. “Oh the White Harbor Mermen will lose against my Winterfell Dire Wolves.”

“Well if you win I’ll convince my brother to just give you the lands needed for your eastern watchtower.” Ser Wendel has a calculating grin on his face. “But if I win… you convince your brother here to permit me to court the Princess.”

“It’s that easy?” Mutters King Eddard, his brow crinkled in deep thought. “No one dies and both sides honor the bargain?”

“Of course, our families honor and pride is on the line and the battle is seen by any who wish to be present.” Agrees the Manderly knight with a firm nod. “Not even a Bolton would be able to renege on such a public set of terms, with defeat being treated as one on the field of battle.”

“It keeps the men fit for the winter and too tired to cause trouble in Wintertown.” Benjen adds with a chuckle. “The men have only had a handful of fights to break up and we’re even more crowded than last winter.”

“And what do you call this ‘Miracle on Ice’?”

Ser Wendel puffs his chest up and confidently declares the name. “Hockey.”


…

​

Dok Tur
​

The village of Whitetree contains a few dozen buildings, but all are shaded by the massive Weirwood tree in it’s center. The bone white trunk is seven or eight feet thick at the base and only narrows to six before the sprawling branches begin.

Crimson leaves make the sunlight that filters through has an eerie shade, with the carved face large enough to swallow a reindeer whole. I have no idea how to even start looking for the Children of the Forest and after our last encounter… they’ll probably make it even harder. Knowing this, I kneel before the face weeping blood red sap.

I place my hands on the trunk and let sap seep in between my fingers. It’s warm and tingles my skin, soothing my worries as I feel them shared by countless others. Closing my eyes I embrace the conclave and listen.

Dozens of languages with hundreds of distinct regional dialects flood my mind all at once, but slowly I find myself understanding. The first voice I can decipher is female and snarkier than Tyrion, as she lists all of my flaws to the beings listening now, before, and even after.

“He lies to any who listen, why should we even make the offer?”

“Because the future we face is extinction and he has changed that fate for his kind.” This speaker seems to be on my side, but his mental voice is filled with bitterness. “I would like to know my own children will live through the Forty Night Flood.”

I interrupt before anyone else has a chance to badmouth me. “Would it help if I take full blame and apologize?”

“Will you reveal the truth of your words?” The third voice is calm and serene like a grandmother monk.

“No.” If I do, a whole lot of religious people have a reason to hate each other again. I’d kind of like the Faith on my side… they can really rile up the smallfolk fast and I’d prefer it be for me. “Will you send me back home?” I turn it around on them with a smug feeling inside me.

“We can’t…” A fourth voice sounds familiar and quite young, though I can’t quite place my memory on it. “All we could do was stop the Others from claiming you for themselves.”

Wait a second… “Bloodraven didn’t bring me here for some crazy scheme?”

“I barely noticed your arrival at all,” An old man’s voice answers with the sound of cawing creating an echo in my mind. “Only had just enough time to shove you in the nearest body and none of the children offered themselves. Had to give you the one Giant I normally use to go for a walk, Mister Big hasn’t had a thought of his own since the tree fell on his head.”

“So I’m definitely sorry about the whole squishing you thing.” My mental wince is plainly felt by all in the conclave.

“I should have died a long time ago, but I couldn’t rest until my replacement had come for training.” Brynden Rivers hisses with sardonic laughter that the boy from earlier joins. “Thought I had a few more years in me though, that was the first surprise I’ve had in decades… was kind of nice actually.”

“Which means it will be your job to find and teach me one day, or this conversation will have been impossible.”

Bloodraven adds a final comment as the voices begin to go back to a cacophony of unknown languages. “At least my blade is being wielded by a bastard Targaryen again, I must thank you for that.”

“Who?” The only ones I know of are babies… so does that mean Tywin gave Darksister to Jaime? Are the Lannister twins actually Waters, or does that make them Hills?


Notes: Don’t worry I’m not revealing or talking to anyone alive/smarter than an animal about being a SI. I just thought it would be funny if Bloodraven wasn’t actually a creepy evil old guy behind everything and only a creepy looking old guy. He’s no angel in this fic, but I wanted to try something different.

Same thing with Cersei/Jaime being Aerys’ kids. I don’t necessarily think it’s true in canon, but I’m grabbing a lot of the theories that at least seem plausible.​