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Raiden's Storm Chapter 81: King Of Winter
🕑 Added 2024-08-09 19:40:34 +0000 UTC[Edric’s POV]
It took a great deal of willpower to drag myself out of my featherbed bed, especially knowing that I wouldn’t have that luxury for a while. The moment I left my sheet of furs, I wasn’t too cold. Winterfell had been built over natural hot springs, and I was clearly a beneficiary of that. If anything, it was decently warm.
I got dressed and didn’t waste much time lingering about. I left my bedchamber to the sight of a weary Ser Loras.
“You’ve seen better days.” I remarked.
“Just doing my duty, Your Grace…”
“Let’s get some food.” I patted his shoulder. “I don’t want you lacking for strength, ser.”
We pulled up to the dining hall a tad bit late, though not late enough for everyone to have left. As soon as I entered, people noticed and began rising from their seats. I strode over to the head of the table, where several plates of untouched food awaited me. I sat down and gestured for everyone else to do the same.
“I hear you were struck with a fever, Your Grace.” Catelyn Stark spoke as I ate slightly more gracefully than usual. "I am glad to see that you have recovered swiftly. Winterfell shall be your home for as long as you seek. You will need all of your strength."
I could see where Sansa got her manners from.
"I am grateful for the offer. However, I intend to ride for the Wall today."
"You only woke last night," Catelyn remarked.
"I am a tough bastard, if anything." I smiled reassuringly. "Worry not for me, lady Stark."
"In the Great Tourney at King's Landing, Edric took twenty-four lances against Ser Loras alone." Arya chuckled, glancing at the knight. "I believe he just got tired of hitting him at the end."
"I heard you hit a target from a thousand paces with an arrow of lightning that exploded... is it true?" Bran Stark asked, almost wide-eyed with fascination.
"Yeah." I nodded, having a drink.
"I'd like to see it in person..."
The Seven Kingdom's Got Talent...
"I'll show you when I depart, alright?"
Bran nodded.
"I believe it would be for the better if you left my daughters at Winterfell for the time being." Catelyn Stark added at last, sounding as if she had set her mind on such an arrangement. "The Wall does not have the comforts of Winterfell, their home."
"I understand that you have not seen them in some time." I nodded, speaking with a tone of acknowledgement. "It is also true that the men of the Night's Watch can be of... questionable character. I see no reason to drag them along with me to the harsher lands up north-"
"No," Arya interjected, shaking her head. "Sansa can stay, if she likes, but I'm going north."
"And what will you do there?" Catelyn questioned, taking a more stern motherly look. "It will be a place of battle, unfitting for a lady like you."
"How can I be a proper queen if I fear my own people and hide from their struggles? I'm going, and that's that. You can't tell me otherwise."
"Arya... I am your mother."
All of a sudden, they both looked at me.
I'm just trying to eat my food...
"If she insists." I shrugged. "Nothing will come to harm Arya so long as I draw breath, you can rest assured. Once the battles are won and the wildlings humbled, we will return to Winterfell together. Then we can celebrate this reunion properly with the war behind us, no?"
"There is no shield greater than His Grace." Sansa added, backing my statement. "At Edric's side, Arya is the safest lady in the Realm wherever she goes. With the Wall and Northern banners to add, your worries are unfounded, mother."
"... Very well." Catelyn Stark sighed as she gazed at Arya's look of determination, relenting. "I entrust my daughter to you once again, Your Grace."
Arya smiled slightly as she looked at her sister. Sansa nodded in turn.
They seem to be closer as of late.
I gave her my word and finished off my meal. I had extras cooked up since Winterfell's food tasted like heaven after weeks on the road. After a full stomach, I sent off Loras to get some shuteye while I went exploring. Arya served as my tour guide, showing me every important part of the castle.
It was absolutely massive and made the show's variant look like a minor house's walled holdfast in comparison.
We stopped at the Godswood, which spanned three acres. Seeing it in person was a whole different matter. The place was... eerie. The woods seemed untouched for an eternity, growing wild inside the moss-covered walls of Winterfell. There was an ancient magic here, one that was living.
A magic that had lived for thousands of years before and may just live thousands more after.
As I came closer to the heart tree, all sounds died, and the world fell still. I turned back to see Arya, but she wasn't there. I looked around and felt a stranger.
The silence broke as whispers replaced it. Whispers of dragons, battles, victories won, and defeats suffered. Cries of sorrow and helplessness, laughs of triumph and a rain of words. Words of past and future.
"He cannot be vanquished..."
"I shall take a dragon for mine own and rain fire down on the Usurper's bastard..."
"Too many dragons is as dangerous as too few."
"Does your dread know no bounds?"
"It's over..."
"When Prince Daemon had Blackfyre in hand, there was not a man equal to him."
"Hero. Champion. Protector."
"Villain. Demon. Butcher."
"The Blessed. Saint."
"The Scourge of the Land. Tyrant."
"Peacemaker, Warmonger."
“Take my fire and light the way through this darkness, Edric Storm…”
I saw Eddard Stark brandishing Ice. A Stark marrying a Blackwood. A younger Theon running about and trying to shoot down squirrels with some makeshift bow before growing into his own and shagging some girls.
I was beginning to wonder if the abilities of a greenseer were more of a curse than a blessing. I definitely didn’t need to see Theon making love. Nevertheless, I reached the heart tree and did not lack for courage as I raised my hand. I touched the melancholic face and felt colder than usual. It grew colder and colder until the entire tree froze still. The coldness spread out like a virus, marking the entire land.
I had never felt colder. The road to Winterfell was a summer day in the middle of a heatwave in comparison.
The frown and look of dismay on the heart tree’s face suddenly flipped into an eerie smile, blood falling from its eyes and mouth.
I could feel the earth shake at each step…
I turned back.
“Your struggles are as fruitless as the desolate lands that you see.”
A cold, piercing, and ancient voice echoed in my mind. It emerged from the darkness of the forest, a colossal shadow that loomed over me - its extremely long hair flowing freely. Its head was adorned with a crown of tall, thick thorns. The armour that bound the white-haired creature was decorated with frozen skulls. Its blue eyes shined a dark blue, looking down at me. The face had no mouth or nose to speak of, both covered by a black armoured mask.
It held a sword in one hand, long enough to be a greatsword… its entirety made of ice.
"Your people shall starve, freeze, and succumb to the relentless passage of time, each year harsher than the last. Winter will claim them, and the living shall join the dead. Soon… darkness and winter will reign over the world, looming eternal as the earth.”
It pointed the sword at me.
“Soon, herald of the Storm, your struggles will come to an end at last…”
I blinked, and the shadow looked to be none other than me.
“BOO!”
I jumped, only to see Arya chuck a snowball right into my face. Everything returned to normal. I took a deep breath, wiping away the snow. In only a minute, I’d gone through an experience that felt like a century. A rollercoaster of emotions.
“Where in Seven Hells were you?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“You aren’t too good at seeking, are you?” Arya laughed. “You looked completely lost.”
“...” I decided not to share what I had seen, managing a smile. “You want snow? I’ll give you snow.”
I bent down to grab a handful of snow, moving my head to dodge Arya’s second throw just in time. I countered with my own ball, only for her to dash away.
“You missed!”
“I won’t miss a second time.” I grinned slightly, channelling Storm magic.
“That’s cheating…”
“Is it?”
The wind swept up the snow in the surrounding area, swirling to form several whirlwinds of snow all around Arya. In the blink of an eye, one fell on her after the other until she was buried. I walked over, chuckling as she poked her head out like a whack-a-mole. It was tempting to put her down once again.
She pouted, puffing her cheeks.
“That doesn’t count.”
“Counts if the King says so. Who’s to say otherwise?”
“Right… fine, you win.”
She rose from the snow and… countered with another throw just as I turned back.
I didn’t expect it.
“So that’s how it is…”
We’d snowball fight for a while, the moment washing away the shadow of the being I assumed to be the Night King. He looked more like the Lich King or Sauron than the scrawny Night King, which did not make me feel all too confident. I’d never known fear facing an opponent, but he… was something else entirely. Otherworldly.
The kind of being that could trample the world.
I needed to be even mightier than that.
~
[Jon’s POV]
He would go on and explain the path he’d taken since leaving Winterfell to Robb in private. Jon was entirely truthful and honest with his brother, sharing everything. Even his love for Ygritte… which was not much of a secret by now - but he admitted to it nonetheless. Robb did not look fond of that, for certain.
“Wildlings are a lawless people.” Robb had a look of disapproval. “Rapists, thieves, butchers who kill without thought. There are stories as old as the Wall of them passing it and taking our steel, food, spices, silks… whatever they can get their dirty hands on. Women and girls, too. They carry them off back home whenever they can.”
“I’ve heard all of the stories, as did you…” Jon nodded.
“And you’ve seen it, no? I’m not sure what father would even do with you.” Robb Stark had a cup of wine, looking strained.
“Ygritte isn’t like that.” Jon denied. “Not all of the free folk act the same way.”
“A couple nights joint together enlightened you, Snow?” Robb scoffed. “You broke your oath. Even worse, with an enemy. An enemy of the North for thousands of years…”
How could he explain Ygritte to him… to them? She’s warm and smart and funny, and she can kiss a man or slit his throat.
Yet, saying so would only earn more of his brother’s disdain. He did not think that Robb ever knew that kind of love. Words did not leave him, for he did not know what to say in defence that could make him understand.
“They’d have you executed for a traitor,” Robb said, shaking his head. “If it were just any man of the Night’s Watch…”
Even though he didn’t finish, Jon knew what he meant to say.
“Do you know how hard it will be to defend you?”
“You don’t need to.” Jon suddenly said. “If it burdens you so much, I’ll take the punishment.”
“...” Robb cracked a smile in response. “I won’t abandon you, Jon. I know the men of the Night’s Watch tend to go into Mole’s Town at night. If all the men who slept with a woman were killed, there’d be only ghosts to man the Wall… or so Maester Aemon had told me.”
“... It is true.” Jon nodded.
“Only that you slept with a wildling and killed another man of the Night’s Watch. Even if he commanded you to… it’s not something that can be proven, as you’re the only witness. But…”
“But?” Jon questioned.
“One word from the King, and all of your crimes will wash away… if you can convince him of your innocence. You will need to prove yourself in battle, as well. Leave no question where your loyalties lie.”
“And if I can’t?”
“If His Grace deems you a criminal, no one in the Realm could stop him from taking your head.” Robb made a hopeful smile. “Alas, I know him to be an understanding and reasonable friend who values the bonds he forges. He will stand for you, I am certain. If not for what he thinks is just, then for Arya and I.”
He sounded fond of Edric Storm, who had earned his legitimacy through achievements that his regal father could not deny. Because of that, he had also been given his beloved sister’s hand… who Jon couldn’t imagine as a lady. Though, perhaps the girl had found a boy to love in the King.
In truth, he found the thought amusing that a bastard could rise to Kingship, where he had once only dreamed of having Winterfell. Such a boy had to be great, without a shadow of a doubt… for what Realm would allow an unfitting bastard to rule it?
In a way, it was inspiring.
Jon looked forward to meeting him in person, should he live long enough.
“Then I must thank him in advance.” Jon nodded.
“All we need to do is hold the wall long enough for him to arrive - which should be easy enough, given how many men we have and the Wall’s defences.” Robb’s eyes flashed knowingly. “Once Edric is here, the wildlings may as well turn the other way around if they know any better.”
“... That’s the difference one boy can make?”
“That’s the difference one King of Storms makes, my dear brother. You will see.
