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The Fox Hole 86
🕑 Added 2025-04-22 21:24:53 +0000 UTC– Haru –
The sound of bone snapping echoed across the marble plaza with a sickening crack, and I winced—again. Tanya was kicking some ass…
She was a blur of black and yellow, darting across the wide stone steps in rapid, terrifying bursts. Her small fists cracked into ribs, slammed into jaws, and sent grown men flying like sacks of flour. One unlucky bastard hit the wall with enough force to crack the stone, then slid down in a crumpled heap, groaning in agony.
More came rushing out of the doors behind him—robed scholars, apprentices, even what looked like a few actual old Maesters, all screaming accusations at her like lunatics.
“Abomination!”
“Demon girl!”
“She’s defiling the sacred grounds! Someone stop her!”
All this because Tanya had dared to try and walk into a library…
Tanya, for her part, didn’t even look winded. Her white-blonde hair whipped behind her as she pivoted on her heel, ducked under a swing, and drove a hard, punishing elbow into a man’s sternum. He let out a wheezing gasp as he crumpled, eyes rolling back before he hit the floor.
“Misogynistic fuckwads!” she shouted, her voice clear and furious as she moved. “You ignorant mouth-breathing fossils don’t get to gatekeep knowledge just because you’re afraid of girls outsmarting you!”
Another one tried to grab her from behind—big mistake. Tanya spun, grabbed his wrist, twisted it at a savage angle, and snapped his arm like a twig. His scream was high-pitched and shrill, echoing across the quiet city square.
I watched beside mom as bodies piled up in neat little groaning heaps. She had Kunou tucked tightly against her hip, one arm wrapped around Kunou to keep her in place.
My little sister looked like she was vibrating with barely-contained bloodlust. “Let me go, Mama!” Kunou hissed, her tails flicking wildly behind her. “I can help! I can burn them! Just a little! Like… light their pants on fire!”
“You are not lighting any scholars on fire, young lady,” Yasaka said firmly, covering Kunou’s ears just as one of the apprentices screamed something deeply unholy about Tanya’s mother and a horse.
Rude…
Kunou peeked up at me next. “Can I at least kick one in the balls if they say something mean about my sister again?”
…
Eventually… there was no one left conscious—or at least able to move—between Tanya and the library’s wide double doors. The marble steps were littered with groaning men, some clutching broken limbs, others completely knocked out cold. A few were still twitching like they were trying to crawl away from the tiny terror who’d just steamrolled through their entire staff without so much as scuffing her boots.
Tanya stood at the top of the stairs, her back straight, hands on her hips, breathing slow and even like she’d just finished a casual jog. Blood stained her knuckles, a few smears dotted her collar.
She was completely unharmed though. Even if someone had gotten a lucky punch in, she had so much magical power flowing through her that her skin might as well be steel. Also, she usually kept a magical barrier around her body as well.
She was a very paranoid teenager.
Down below, a crowd of townsfolk had started to gather at the base of the plaza. Most of them kept their distance, peeking around corners and behind carts like they expected a lightning bolt to come down any second. A few were openly gawking, wide-eyed and whispering.
My ears twitched beneath the glamour spell I’d used to make myself look human, catching stray words that filtered through the ambient murmurs.
“Did you see that? She’s the incarnation of the Warrior—she has to be.”
“No, no, it was the Maiden. Look how young she is!”
“She destroyed them with her bare hands.”
“She’s not human, I tell you…”
That was ironic considering she was the only one of us that was human…
Regardless, I rolled my eyes. “Oh, right… the Faith of the Seven. That made-up hocus-pocus religion people down here are always ranting about,” I muttered, glancing sideways at my mother.
Yasaka chuckled softly beside me. Her golden eyes gleamed with mischief. “I wouldn’t be so sure it’s completely made up, my darling son.”
I raised a brow at her. “I don’t sense any divine beings nearby.”
She just smiled that mysterious little smile of hers—the one that always made me nervous—and tilted her head toward the sky. “That’s because they’re terrified… and hiding from us.”
I blinked. “…Huh. That was not the answer I was expecting.”
Yasaka just grinned wider and didn’t elaborate. Of course she didn’t.
Meanwhile, Tanya casually wiped the blood from her hands onto the sleeve of an unconscious apprentice slumped against the doorframe. Then, with the air of someone finally getting to do what she actually came here for, she strolled right into the library like she owned the place.
I exchanged a glance with my mother. She shrugged. I shrugged back. Then we followed her inside, with Kunou trailing behind us and muttering complaints under her breath.
“Books are boring,” she grumbled. “Smells like old people in here…”
She wasn’t wrong.
The moment I stepped through the doorway, I was hit with a wave of stale air. It reeked of mold, dust, and something like wet parchment mixed with old sweat. The kind of scent that made you instinctively breathe through your mouth.
Oh no… That made it worse! I almost gagged!
I cast a spell in front of my face to filter the smell and did the same for the girls.
The inside of the library was a maze of crumbling wooden shelves and sagging scroll racks. The place looked ancient and… kinda sad. Half the shelves and books were rotting from age.
Tanya, however, looked like a kid in a candy store. Her eyes gleamed as she stalked from shelf to shelf. “Where’s the magic section…” she muttered under her breath. “There’s got to be something worthwhile here.”
Kunou sighed dramatically and dragged her feet across the stone floor behind her.
…
The sound of Tanya’s rage echoed through the ancient stone halls like thunder. We all froze at the furious shout from somewhere deep inside the library, the walls practically vibrating with the sheer volume in her voice.
I exchanged a glance with Yasaka, who raised one elegant eyebrow.
Then Tanya came storming out of some doors in the back, her boots slamming hard against the marble. Her eyes were practically glowing–again–her face twisted in pure fury.
Behind her, Kunou followed like a smug little shadow, giggling quietly like this was the best show she’d seen all day.
“What happened?” I asked, already bracing for bad news.
“The entire fucking magic section is gone!” Tanya shouted, spinning on her heel and jabbing a finger back toward the crumbling entrance behind her. “Burned. Destroyed. Thousands of years of research, records–all of it, gone.”
I blinked, my brain stalling for a second. “Wait… what?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she marched straight over to a half-conscious old man in gray robes lying at the foot of the stairs. His nose was broken, and one eye was already swelling shut—Tanya’s earlier work, no doubt. She crouched beside him, grabbed the front of his robe, and slapped him hard across the face.
“Wake up, you decrepit fossil,” she growled.
The man stirred with a groan, his eyes fluttering open just in time to catch Tanya’s glare. She didn’t wait for him to speak. “Why?” she demanded, her voice low and venomous. “Why would you destroy the magic section of the library?”
The old maester spat at her, but the saliva hit a thin veil of magical energy just before it reached her cheek, sizzling against the barrier and vanishing into nothing.
“Because magic is an abomination,” he rasped. “It poisons the mind and body. It corrupts. It’s the duty of the Order to protect the world from its filth—and from its bloodlines!”
I stared at the man, stunned. Not because of what he said—but because of how proud he sounded. Like it was some sacred crusade to stamp out magic in Westeros.
“You people are idiots,” I muttered.
Magic was life. Magic was strength. It was power. Denying it didn’t make them wise or noble—it just made them weak. Vulnerable. Arrogant without a single ounce of ability to back it up.
Yasaka sighed beside me. “Humans never stop surprising me with how far they’ll go to sabotage themselves,” she said lightly. “It’s almost impressive.”
Tanya let go of the maester’s robe and stood, her gaze sweeping across the cracked stone courtyard and back toward the decrepit building. “There’s nothing even worth saving in there,” she snapped. “A few crusty tomes full of probably doctored history and propaganda. If they were so eager to wipe out magical knowledge, how can we trust anything they wrote down?”
She turned to Kunou with a sharp look. “Burn it.”
Kunou’s golden eyes sparkled with joy, her mouth stretching into a wicked grin that showed off her sharp little canines. “Yes, ma’am!” With a flick of her wrists, blue fireballs appeared in both palms. She let out a dramatic cackle—one she’d definitely stolen from some anime—and hurled the first ball straight through the doors. Flames erupted inside instantly! “Justice shall be served!” Kunou declared, lobbing another fireball as she twirled in place like some kind of magical girl superhero now.
The maester’s eyes went wide in horror. “No! Please! Stop this madness! Those are sacred texts—!”
“This is vengeance for Tanya-nee!” Kunou roared gleefully.
I couldn’t help but snort at the absurdity of it. I glanced over at her, half expecting her to shut it down, but she just gave a casual shrug.
“Let her get it out of her system. She’ll be less hyper by the time we reach King’s Landing.” Kunou continued to rain fireballs into the structure with unrelenting enthusiasm.
“Vacation,” I muttered. “This is what vacation looks like for us I guess…”
“I’ve had worse,” she said next to me.
…
– Catelyn –
Catelyn Stark was so incredibly happy she could barely breathe! Her arms were wrapped tight around Arya’s shoulders, holding her as if letting go would cause her to vanish all over again. Her baby—her fierce, wild, impossible little girl—was alive!
Arya squirmed uncomfortably in her grip, face squashed into Catelyn’s chest, but Catelyn wasn’t letting go. Not yet!
“M-Mother,” Arya muttered, her voice muffled and slightly strained. “You’re… crushing me…”
“I don’t care,” Catelyn whispered, voice thick with tears. “You’re not going anywhere ever again.”
When the guard had run into the Winterfell hall—what passed for their throne room now—breathless and red-faced, saying a girl claiming to be Arya Stark had arrived at the gates, Catelyn and Sansa had both assumed the worst. Again.
Another imposter, they’d thought. Another cruel, pathetic pretender trying to take advantage of their grief. It had happened before—more than once. Some claiming to be Bran, some Arya, others even her dead son Robb.
The last one had paid for it with that claim with his head...
But when she laid eyes on the girl at the gates… when those stormy gray eyes met hers, defiant and guarded but unmistakably Stark… everything inside her just stopped.
It was her.
Arya had looked stunned for a moment—like she hadn’t expected such a visceral reaction—but then she was being dragged into her mother’s arms. And now Sansa was there too, wrapping her arms around them both, pressing her face into Arya’s hair, whispering Arya’s name like it was a prayer she never thought she’d say again.
Arya whined softly, clearly mortified by the attention. “Gods, you’re both worse than puppies—let me go already!”
“Not a chance,” Sansa said, tears trailing down her cheeks. “Not for at least five more minutes.”
So they didn’t let go. Not until Arya finally stopped struggling and just stood there awkwardly in their grip, stiff but not pulling away.
Catelyn sniffled as she slowly stepped back, cupping her daughter’s face in both hands, her thumbs brushing over her cheeks. Arya was older now—her face sharper, her skin tanned from sun and wind, a thin scar running from her brow to her temple. But her eyes… her eyes were exactly the same. That stormy gray that always seemed ready to strike at someone who dared call her a lady, the same fire that had once turned Sansa’s fancy dolls into kindling.
“My little girl,” Catelyn whispered.
Arya wrinkled her nose. “I’m not little anymore.”
“No,” Catelyn agreed, brushing a stray strand of dark hair back from her face. “No, you’re not.”
When Arya started talking—really talking—it was like listening to someone recount an entire lifetime in the space of a few heartbeats.
She’d sailed across the Narrow Sea. Lived in Braavos. Trained with the Faceless Men. That last part made Catelyn’s blood run cold, though she didn’t show it. Arya didn’t go into detail, but she didn’t have to. The name alone spoke volumes.
And then… she had returned.
“I made the trip from King’s Landing to here on foot,” Arya said proudly, her voice tinged with satisfaction. “Alone.”
Catelyn’s eyes widened. “Alone?! All that way—across half the realm?”
Arya just smirked. “It wasn’t that bad. Had to dodge a few patrols. Scare off a few sellswords. But nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Gods.
“And then there’s the Freys!” Arya added, chest puffing slightly. “They’re Dead. All of them. I did it. For Robb. For our house!”
Sansa gasped, covering her mouth. Catelyn felt her knees go weak again. “You… you killed them all?”
Arya nodded.
Catelyn didn’t know what to say to that. Gratitude? Horror? Pride?
And then something strange happened.
Arya tilted her head slightly and looked over both of them, a small crease forming between her brows. “So uh… someone want to explain why the guards at the gate told me my mother and sister are both engaged to the same man?”
Catelyn went still.
Sansa’s entire face turned scarlet.
Arya blinked slowly, staring at them like they’d both grown tails. “Wait. They weren’t kidding?”
Catelyn opened her mouth, closed it again, then let out a long breath. “It’s… complicated.”
Arya’s eyebrow rose so high it nearly disappeared into her hairline. “Oh, I bet it is.”
…
…Catelyn let out a slow breath as she finished speaking, her voice finally trailing off beneath the steady crackle of the hearthfire. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers laced tightly together, her knuckles pale from the pressure. She wasn’t sure when she had started wringing them.
Across the solar, Arya stared at her like she’d grown a second head.
“So let me get this straight,” Arya said, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, brows drawn tight over storm-gray eyes. “You and Sansa are both going to marry the same man?”
Catelyn nodded, smoothing the front of her dress with a deliberate calm she did not entirely feel. “Yes. We’ve agreed to share him. Haru… he’s not like the men we knew, Arya. Not like Ned. Not like Robb. He’s more than—” she stopped, searching for the word. “—a mortal, in some ways. And still more "human" than most I’ve ever known. He’s the one I have chosen to spend the rest of my life with!”
“And mine as well!” Sansa nodded proudly.
Arya blinked once. Then twice. And then she barked out a laugh so loud it startled one of the nearby servants. “Gods, just… please, please keep me out of your weird magical harem.”
Sansa choked on her wine, giggling uncontrollably as she dabbed at her lips with a silk napkin. “Don’t worry,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she turned toward her sister. “You’re far too horse-faced for Haru’s tastes.”
Arya let out a dramatic growl. “Oh, you bitch!” she lunged playfully at Sansa, who shrieked and scrambled across the cushions to avoid her. Their legs tangled, limbs flailing, and for a few moments the solar echoed with childish laughter and muffled curses as the girls tussled like they had in summers past.
Catelyn smiled, heart aching with something warm and bittersweet as she watched them. She could barely remember the last time they’d acted like this—untethered by grief or war. Arya had changed, certainly. She was older, harder, her posture more guarded, her expression sharper.
But there, in that moment, she was still her daughter. Still a Stark girl.
When the chaos finally died down and the girls returned to their seats—flushed, laughing, hair mussed—Arya had something else to say.
“Oh, and uh… something you should probably know.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, glancing toward the window. “The Frey bridge? Their old castle?”
Catelyn looked up sharply. “What about it?”
Arya raised both brows. “It’s gone!”
Sansa frowned. “Gone?”
“Blown to shit,” Arya said bluntly, making a sweeping explosion gesture with both hands. “Big plume of blue fire fell from the fucking sky! Tower went up like a torch. Bridge cracked in half. Scared the life outta me! I thought the Gods had come down themselves to seek justice because the Frey’s violated guest rights.”
Catelyn stared at her for a long moment, mouth slightly parted.
Blue fire.
She didn’t need to guess. That had been Haru. Her betrothed had heard what the Freys did to her. To Robb. And he had gotten payback for her. That was so sweet!
She felt a shiver ripple through her belly, slow and hot, and swallowed hard as a sharp thrill coiled between her legs. The mere thought of it—of him exacting revenge on her behalf—sent a flush of warmth straight through her spine. The last time she’d thanked him with her mouth, he’d had to hold her hair to keep her from gagging as she took him all the way down her throat.
Tonight, she thought, licking her lips slowly, tonight, I’ll go further. He won’t forget it…
“Mother?” Arya tilted her head. “Are you well? You just kinda… look like your mind went somewhere else.”
Catelyn cleared her throat delicately and sat up straighter. “Fine. Just… grateful. That justice was done.”
Arya gave her a look but didn’t press. Instead, she leaned back against the cushions, exhaling slowly. “So. What the fuck is going on with Jon? I heard rumors. Something about the Night’s Watch being disbanded and him marching south with an army of wildlings?”
Sansa’s smile dimmed. She nodded, brushing a few stray hairs from her face as her voice turned quiet. “He left the Wall. Said there was no point anymore. Especially since the Night King is real and coming…eventually. Although we’re not worried with Haru here.” She smiled.
Catelyn nodded at that. The White Walkers? She wasn’t worried, honestly. What were a couple scary bedtime stories against the power of her future husband, who could slap around gods with ease?
Although Jon still didn’t seem to believe that…
“We would love for Jon to come home,” Catelyn said softly, surprising even herself with the sincerity of the statement. “He’s still family. Even now…”
Arya’s eyes widened slightly. “Wow. You… really have changed.”
Catelyn gave her a look. “Losing almost every one of your children does that to a woman.”
There was a moment of silence, heavy but not unwelcome.
“…But,” Sansa continued, her tone cautious, “he won’t give up his command of the wildlings! And neither I, nor Mother, nor Lady Yasaka fully trust them!”
Arya frowned. “You think they’ll turn on him?”
Sansa hesitated, then nodded slowly. “They follow him now, because he helped them. Because they needed a leader to fight against the undead…but once that is done with…”
“The wildings will return to be wildlings. They will start to pillage and rape across these lands just as they always have,” Catelyn finished grimly. “They’re not… civilized, Arya. Not in the way the North needs. They’ll always see us as separate. As other. And Jon’s too loyal—too kind—for his own good to notice that.”
Arya stared into the fire for a long moment, her fingers curling into the fabric of her tunic. “Yeah,” she said finally. “That does sound like him.”
“It’s not an issue right now, though.” Catelyn added. “For now, I’m just glad my daughter is home! We will throw a feast and I can’t wait for you to meet your future step-father!”
“And brother-in-law…” Sansa added, causing Arya to groan.
– Haru –
“I don’t think this is King’s Landing,” I said dryly, squinting down at the rugged chain of grey islands below us.
Kunou gasped in exaggerated horror. “You mean we’re lost?!”
“Looks that way,” I muttered.
I guess we had veered off course after leaving Oldtown. Now we were overing in the sky over the open ocean, the salty wind whipping past our faces.
Hundreds of wooden human warships clustered in the bays of the islands. Smoke rose from several forges along the shorelines.
Someone was preparing for war. A big war…
Yasaka floated beside me and comforted my sister who was pouting still. “It happens sometimes, sweetie,” she told Kunou. “If we don’t make it to the capital before sunset, we can always go tomorrow instead.”
Kunou puffed up her cheeks. “But I wanted to see a real princess today!”
I snorted. “You say that like you don’t already have, like, five back at the restaurant you see all the time...”
Before Kunou could shoot back with something equally dramatic, something below us… shifted.
A sudden pressure hit my ears, like the atmosphere changed. Tanya stopped mid-hover, her eyes narrowing. Yasaka’s tails twitched sharply. I felt it too—like something massive and ancient had stirred in the black depths far beneath us.
Interesting…
Then the sea churned. The water below swirled and churned. And then the water exploded upward in a towering geyser, and out of it rose a massive, slimy monstrosity. Tentacles—thick as buses—snaked into the air, dripping with seawater. A grotesque, barnacle-covered head pushed into view.
A voice—if you could call that booming gurgle a voice—rippled across the sea and sky alike. “TRESPASSERS! YOU SHALL PAY FOR ENTERING THE DOMAIN OF THE DROWNED GOD!”
“...Seriously?” I asked out loud. “The drowned God is real?” Maybe I could have believed the Seven were real and simply hiding like Yasaka had said… but the freaking Drowned God too?
The kraken thing—twenty, maybe thirty stories tall—rose to its full height. He was a big monster, that’s for sure. “I WILL DEVOUR YOU ALL FOR YOUR INSOLENCE, FOUL MAGICAL BEASTS!” it shrieked, every word vibrating through the very air.
Kunou floated forward slightly, cocked her head… and stuck her tongue out. “Bleeeeh!”
Tanya let out a long, slow whistle beside me. Her hand reached for her rifle on her back. “So, uh… are we doing this, or…?”
I blinked. My brain was still playing catch-up. A giant kraken god just yelled at us. In the voice of a vengeful eldritch storm demon. And wanted to devour us. I looked down at the massive, wriggling tentacles reaching toward us.
And my stomach rumbled.
“Oh hell yes,” I grinned, licking my lips. “Now this… this is a proper vacation!”
Kunou’s eyes lit up. “Takoyaki?” she asked hopefully.
“Hell yeah, we’re making godly takoyaki!”
XXX
Comments
Corey McWhirter
How the hell did Arya get from The Twins to Winterfell in less than a day? Not even a horse going at a full gallop could make that kind of time.
WhatAFungi
Not the books!!! Don’t burn books!!! That’s some Nazi shit , right there!!! The strongest aphrodisiac, revenge. Thanks for the chapter!
Crashman
We need more
Danciingbread
That’s a very wholesome first reaction
dark helmet9
for the next vacation or just when someone mentions getting a pet/familiar should do pokemon. the chaos that would bring. although if you ever did getting a couple indeedee for the shop wouldn't hurt physic butler and maid. and letting mew out into the multiverse with kunou would be funny with of course tanya dragged along, sometimes literally.
Dave
Fun fact: Bethesda just remastered Oblivion and released it today out of nowhere.
ya_smerti
Takoyaki... mhmmm i miss the little mom and pop shop that made everyone from scratch.
Max Horrichs
I knew takoaki would be on the menu once I saw the word "Tentacles".
William Neill
Godly takoyaki not only in taste but also substance
