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Raiden's Storm Chapter 85: Prophecy
🕑 Added 2024-08-30 13:24:01 +0000 UTC[Edric’s POV]
Edric would have a couple of drinks, easing the tensions between his two armies with his charisma. He was the bridge that united them all in the first place, after all.
“The bloody bear thought he could wrestle me!” He laughed, shaking his head in a filled hall. “It came from behind right as I turned to it, daringly attempting to mark my handsome face. Can anyone spot a scar, hm?”
“Not a scratch on that pretty face!” Jon Umber’s laughter echoed across the hall. "Except for the wildling princess, who did more than any of them!"
“He moved his head like this.” Rickard Karstark replicated Edric’s head movement with some exaggeration, looking like he was a boxer performing rope-a-dope. “You have to see it to believe it!”
“That wasn't all of it, no.” Jon Umber added, telling Edric’s tale himself. “He grabbed the damned thing and lifted it off him like some small dog… throwing it fifty paces away! When the bear touched land again, it went in the opposite direction, only to be dragged right back in by the wind! When it saw Edric up close again, and the forest so far away, the bear shat itself in fear!”
‘A slight exaggeration.’ Edric thought to himself, chuckling. ‘It was more like fifteen.’
Yet his men believed it entirely as the hall burst into laughter and cheering.
“Its rider had been a skinchanger.” Edric intercepted as everyone quieted down. “The bastard thought I was one of his wolves, someone he could possess. When he entered my mind, I saw him right there. The audacity!”
“Like a dream, I grabbed my warhammer… and what proceeded was a culmination of all beatings he missed from his father.” Edric grabbed his Warhammer, bending the truth as he ‘recreated’ the scene. “I smashed the same knees who refused to bend, somehow made his face uglier, broke his arms, crushed what little cock he had and finished him off with a smash to the head that would make Lord Tywin’s finishing blow look gentle!”
There was laughter once more, the northerners being louder than the wildlings. The night continued on, with Edric charming his new leaders further without fail. They worshipped his strength but, more than that, found love for his leadership and lively heart. Yes, he was a King, yet he was just as much of a grounded person who understood and related to the people beneath him.
Once they knelt and proved themselves, he treated them as one of his own.
This sense of trust seemed to strength their own.
“A most worthy King for the Realm and free folk!” Gerrick Redbeard drank in Edric’s name. “A King for all folk!”
“A King for all folk!”
His men and plenty of others reinforced the chant.
“You’ve won them over a little too easily,” Robb remarked, standing beside Edric. “From what I know, there are at least fifty thousand of them. Where do you plan to have them?”
“Spread out. Some will move south, some will join my personal army, and others will join the Night’s Watch - help repair and reinforce the castle ruins. We have nineteen castles, and only three of them are armed while the rest are ruins. How will we be ready for Winter with so little of the Wall being properly defended?” Edric questioned, shaking his head. “We will need countless glass houses, too, and every bit of fertile land put to use. Enough to feed every man should winter last.”
“It will not be an easy thing to arrange.” Edric smiled reassuringly. “Alas, that is the path I chose. If it works, we have a proper Night’s Watch and a surplus of fighting men to use. If not… then I will have to put down a few wildling rebellions. Things like this carry risks and rewards. The risk is, somewhat minor, considering their lesser strength when divided while the reward is something I consider worthwhile.”
“You are the King.” Robb reaffirmed. “Once you make a decision, I can only accept it.”
“Though… that also means I bear all the weight of responsibility.” Edric chuckled. “By the sound of things, you don’t trust them?”
“Of course not, Your Grace. The wildlings might follow you - but what of the people you put them under? Will they respect your decisions enough to let another man command them?”
“I’ll make sure they do,” Edric spoke with a threatening tone.
“... Facing you must be a true fright,” Robb admitted, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think to myself how glad I am that we are on the same side."
“Funny thing about that - it all could’ve been different if I took up Cersei’s offer.”
“Eh?” Robb raised an eyebrow. “What’s all that about?”
“She wanted to reign me in with her charms after I was legitimised.” Edric laughed, shaking his head. “Imagine me as Joffrey’s stalwart right hand! Hahaha…”
“The Lannisters are something else entirely.” Robb mused. “She was more than old enough to be your mother and the queen to your father...”
“... That was the principle. Cersei thought she could fill that motherly gap… among other things. Perhaps she thought I could be the better Robert to her, even.”
Robb’s facial expression mirrored his bewilderment. After a few seconds, he just laughed it off.
“Cersei was one foul creature!"
“Aye…” Edric nodded. “Passion and desire are a woman’s greatest weapons. The mightiest of men can crumble to such things, their discipline and clarity passing like leaves in the wind.”
“Speaking of the mightiest of men falling for a woman’s temptations…” Robb cleared his throat, turning to Edric.
‘The irony is not lost on me, Robby Stark.’ Edric thought to himself. ‘Your parallel self sold an entire war, but you wouldn’t know that…’
“Pointing a finger at me?” Edric tilted his head slightly.
“My father, a man of the highest honour, as you know… did have a bastard himself. He was married to my mother for a year then, and it was considered rather ordinary. The only stain on his honour, yet nothing people hung his head over.”
“Who broke the news to you?” Edric questioned.
“A certain dwarf who likes to talk.” Robb smiled slightly.
“Ah…” Edric chuckled, shaking his head. “Name me one Lannister who doesn’t like the sound of their own voice. I thought it would be Arya, honest and blunt as she can be.”
“She is doubtlessly loyal to you, it seems. I don’t know what you did to tame her.” Robb Stark chuckled. “Your luck with girls and women is quite extraordinary. Even that wildling princess looked interested.”
“I have too much of it, I’m afraid, and it’s not getting any worse.” Edric laughed. “One day, Arya will be fending off half the Realm.”
“Regardless, I won’t hold it against you. Lady Margaery is considered pretty by some and beautiful by most. She is rather elegant and sweet… on the outside, at least. I do not know what to think of her after she slipped into your bed while you were too drunk to think.”
“Even if you don’t, I will.” Edric shook his head. “It was… a mistake. Something that shouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s one of the few faults I can find in you.” Robb patted his shoulder. “Should all men be faultless?”
“... No.”
“You are too harsh on yourself at times. The weight of being a great, flawless and ideal King might just crush you… mayhaps it did when you made that fault.” Robb Stark’s blue eyes observed him. “When you were drunk, you might’ve sought some comfort, away from your duty, all the constant battles you’ve fought in and the pressure of leading Seven Kingdoms at so young an age. Never mind a Seven Kingdoms that was once in rebellion… you crushed the Lannisters, Greyjoys, put down all those mountain clans and brought the Vale back into the fold - almost singlehandedly. In how short a time did you bring the Realm together?”
“I didn’t think you’d be so understanding in this matter,” Edric remarked, shaking his head. “Even so-”
“I don’t want to hear you making excuses to put yourself down. We are to be brothers, after all.” Robb Stark crossed his arms. “The worst of it is that you might get a bastard out of it… so what? Jon Snow is my bastard brother, and I love him just as much as the rest. It might be the same for your children.”
“That is the best that can happen.” Edric nodded.
“Our fathers arranged your betrothal and… admittedly, my sister was definitely not as alluring as Margaery."
“Well…”
“You don’t need to lie to me. The truth is plain enough.” Robb Stark smiled. “Even so, it seems that you’re all the more closer because of it. If Arya is cheery, what reason have I to be troubled? In the end, Arya will be queen and the mother of your legitimate children, while all Margaery will have is a bastard of yours.”
“Mhm…” Edric smiled, nodding.
“Funnily enough, my brother is in that tent as well. Except - he fell for a wildling who looks to be just like any other.” Robb looked at Jon in the distance. “While you weren’t married or held to any oaths, he broke his. I shielded him until now, but… the judgement is yours to make. You hold all the power.”
“And which part of that oath did he break?” Edric grinned slightly. “Throughout his time with the wildlings, he acted in the interest in the Night’s Watch. He roused Castle Black, where the wildlings might’ve caught them unaware. He fought alongside his brothers on the Wall for days on end…”
“I shall father no children, which suggests…” Robb knew what he would say, smiling slightly.
“And did he father any children?”
“Not at all.”
“There we go.” Edric smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “What must I punish, exactly, Robb? Him getting captured?”
Robb chuckled. “No.”
“Whatever sin the Night’s Watch believes he committed, consider it pardoned.”
…
Edric, while travelling about, found Melisandre atop the Wall.
“On a late-night run?” Melisandre questioned.
“I wanted some fresh air,” Edric replied, shrugging his shoulders. “So many thousands of loud wildlings… it can be rather suffocating in such small halls. Regardless, what are you doing here? Staring into the void?”
“On this Wall, I feel stronger than I’ve ever been,” Melisandre remarked. “An ancient magic reinforces this Wall… great spells locked beneath all the ice. We walk beneath one of the hinges of the world.”
“Hm…” Edric looked ahead, his hair swaying freely. “My magic was stronger in Storm’s End.”
“You were wise to keep Mance Rayder alive.”
“Was I? I left him more so as a living reminder of those who would defy me.”
“He has kingsblood, and so does his newborn son. It is a precious resource, Your Grace. One that R’hllor favours greatly.”
“For sacrifices?” Edric raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, sacrifices… that is their fate. To be sacrificed at the ripe moment so that the Lord of Light would favour you.”
“I thought I was Azor Ahai reborn, the ‘Son of Fire’ - why must I make sacrifices to him for his blessings?”
“Such is the way, Your Grace. A hero’s path is riddled with sacrifice, and your destiny is to be the greatest of them all.” Melisandre looked on, looking completely unaffected by the cold. “Do you know the story of how Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, the blade that Azor Ahai wielded to triumph over the darkness?”
“Yes, I know all too well.” Edric nodded, feeling a sudden heaviness in his heart. ‘That can’t be my fate…’
“For you are Azor Ahai come again, there will be another who will play the role of Nissa Nissa… or all will fall,” Melisandre explained what Edric already knew - reinforcing the idea. “Only a Lightbringer tempered by the soul of your truest love can triumph over the darkness.”
“... Is that so?” Edric frowned, turning away. “What else must I sacrifice, my unborn child? She would have kingsblood, too - no? My bastard siblings?”
“Mayhaps the time will come…”
“Hmph.”
Damn all the gods and their sacrifices. Why don't you sacrifice yourselves for once?
Edric walked away with a disgruntled mind.
Sacrifice your sheep for a good harvest, sacrifice your wealth for a blessing, sacrifice your children to appease the gods, sacrifice royalty for ‘favour’ with a God whose nemesis you’re already fighting… and sacrifice your ‘truest love’ for a shiny sword to fight his battles with. Where gods exist, so do offerings and sacrifices…
Does R’hllor not seek victory? Are those sacrifices necessary because he’s fucking useless, or is it just a matter of divine pride…
Edric thought of the Transcendent Being.
All the gods simply look down, revelling in mortal tribulations and struggles.
They stand above all else, after all… why would they lower themselves?
He returned to Castle Black, drinking far more than he originally wanted.
And they call me a God… hah! I wouldn’t even be here freezing my balls off if that were so.
…
“Your Grace…” Loras came to Edric, surrounded by chasing wildling women. “Help me be rid of these hags. Tell them to leave.”
“You’re having trouble?” Edric turned to him, wine in hand. He sipped with amusement. “Since when did the Knight of Flowers have trouble with the ladies?”
“I…”
“Look at those brown curls; they’re so soft, messy, like rings o’ hair…”
One of the women, nearly as tall as Brienne, stroked his hair.
“His eyes are too pretty, lively and shiny… like gold. And his skin… so smooth…”
Another touched his face.
“Get off me!” Loras turned away, stepping behind Edric while the King looked all too amused by this.
Just as he made it behind his cover, a woman came from behind to touch his arm.
“Such firm arms for a slender figure… and a pretty face you’d never find north o’ the Wall. Hehe, I’m claiming him for myself!”
Loras looked at Edric, his eyes pleading for help. He was surrounded and had no way of defending himself.
“No way!” One of the free folk women who had been chasing him all along objected to that declaration. “I found him first!”
“No, I did!”
“Fight me for him, then!”
“As long as you don’t fuck him, do whatever.” Edric laughed deviously. “He has his oath of chastity, after all.”
“... Your Grace-”
“A fun little punishment for the stunt you pulled beforehand.”
Edric proceeded to drink his wine, laughing as Loras did his best to avoid the massive, ever-growing horde of free folk women who desired him. Down south, he had already been touted as exceptionally handsome and even the most beautiful by some - depending on taste. Compared to the ungroomed and far less appealing men North of the Wall… well, he’d be a bloody god of beauty!
Edric definitely had his fair share of fun that night at Loras' expense.
…
After partying some more, Edric stumbled upon Val’s prison after he heard something about a black brother being mortally wounded. It was a simple chamber, Castle Black's closest thing to a house arrest.
She looked all the more beautiful today, her blonde hair radiantly shining under the moonlight with the colour of honey. It was neatly braided to one shoulder, over one side of her full bosom, which was more than a handful. Paired with that, her slender physique made her all the more desirable… she possessed the kind of beauty that could turn heads in any court in the world.
A beauty that would possess men to forget themselves, even without so much as a smile.
“I heard there was some trouble.”
“One of your modest crows tried to force himself on me… so I gelded him with his own knife. Keeping his vows will be much easier now.”
“... Ah.” Edric chuckled. “I can’t blame him tooo much; the pretty women around these parts… well, there aren’t any. I sincerely doubt Mole’s Town has anyone who looks near as good as you.”
“You seem to have drunk your fair share.”
“Aye… I am the soul of this party, after all!” Edric laughed. “The King of both worlds, so it seems. Anyway- have you reconsidered your stance by now?”
“I wish to know of your plans first.”
“Well, considering this great change, marriage is the easiest way to form lasting alliances and seal the peace.” Edric suddenly looked more serious. “I’d like to incorporate the major leaders with nobility, either by marrying off their daughters to highborn or the other way around. You’re in that list of notable figures… being the old king’s sister-by-law. The wildlings respect you, and even my own men believe you to be a ‘wildling princess’ of sorts-”
“If you wish to wed me to any of your lords, know that I will geld them all the same when they try to touch me.”
“... How cold and stubborn, you must’ve learned a thing or two from Mance - or was it the other way around?” Edric laughed, shaking his head. “Are you saying that you are above every one of my lords? Even my lords paramount or their heirs? I have many fitting bachelors who are more than worthy-.”
“I already belong to another.”
“Who?” Edric scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Some other, nameless, wildling warrior? Oh, please… ”
“A King.”
She answered.
“...” Edric’s mocking expression changed as soon as she realised what she meant. He broke into laughter. “Hahaha… since when?”
“It wasn’t all that long ago - I would have hoped that you’d remember stealing me. In free folk traditions, we are married, and unless another man defeats you and does the same… it will remain so.”
“Wildlings truly have some barbaric traditions.” Edric shook his head. “Though, your traditions mean nothing south of the Wall. You are nothing more than a prisoner of war - I do not claim you.”
Before he knew it, Val pulled his arm down with the strength of both of hers. Being drunk and imbalanced, Edric came tumbling down on his back like a giant. She then drew out his knife and moved it to his neck.
“If you do not claim me… then I will claim you.”
Edric’s lips curled into a humoured smile at Val’s ‘ultimatum’.
