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Raiden's Storm Chapter 76: Queen Of The Pack
🕑 Added 2024-07-20 14:43:27 +0000 UTC[Edric’s POV]
“Be careful on your journey North, my dear nephew.”
Renly embraced me, patting my shoulder as he withdrew.
I smiled reassuringly, shaking my head.
“Who do you think I am, uncle? I’ve fought worse than a pack of wildlings.”
“I had a bear cloak fashioned just for you.” Renly turned to the side, and Ser Loras presented it to me. It was grey and large, big enough even for me. “In truth, it was your father’s when he journeyed North. Since he has no use for it and you are his size, I feel it is only fitting. Besides that, I believe he would have wanted you to wear it.”
Of course, I had furs of my own… but it was a gracious gift nonetheless. I’d assume you could never be too warm in the North - especially the Wall.
“It is cold up North, undoubtedly,” Tyrion added, having prepared his warmest clothing. He once said to me that even wearing furs on top of furs wasn’t enough to dull the chilling winds. “You would be wise to take it, Your Grace. One can never have too many furs up North.”
Renly gave the dwarf the side eye, or rather a downwards side eye.
“Thank you, uncle. I shall don it when the cold starts getting to me.”
I took the fur and added it to my collection. General Grievous might have his lightsabers, but I have pretty much all of the fur the known world has to offer… except the white lion. Hrakkar, those lions are called.
If I ever live to explore the Dothraki Sea, I’d need to get one of those.
“Serve the wildlings only steel.” Stannis added, nodding solemnly. “Do not show them any mercy, for they are a lawless, savage people. Do not allow a single one to pass the Wall, Your Grace.”
I nodded, though no promises were made. There was a chance at a more peaceful, diplomatic resolution. If not… then I would have to burn them all.
Otherwise, I’d be leaving the Night King with quite the gift.
We would depart in the afternoon after Harrold Arryn’s wedding, riding hastefully. We didn’t have any wagons and carried supplies on horseback. My company was about fifty people, mostly comprised of the kights and fighting men sworn to me.
Such a force was formidable enough to trample any random band of outlaws and yet fast enough to reach Winterfell in good time. Robert Baratheon had taken near two moons on the way to Winterfell and eighty days on the way back, but that’s only because of the terribly slow double-decked wheelbarrow that kept breaking down.
As for me, it should take about thirty days, maybe thirty-five.
…
The days would pass as we rode on the Kingsroad, making use of inns and holdfasts whenever fitting. In a few days we passed Darry and stayed in the Crossroads Inn before continuing the journey. Apparently, there had been a great surge of wolves in recent times.
The countryside always felt refreshing to me - I could never tire of it. The fields of green, wildflowers, forests, hills, caves, rivers, lakes, farms, villages and communities of good, honest men and women. There was none of the stench of King’s Landing.
A part of me just wanted to ride off into the horizon, going wherever the wind took me. Alas, I knew better than that.
We’d make camp to the side of the Kingsroad, a day’s riding from Darry, under the shelter of a forest. I provided a bit of electro sparkling for the fire, and all seemed well.
Then night came in earnest.
“It’s eerie today.” Dallin remarked, observing the fog. “What’s that noise… is it a wolf’s howl?”
“I don’t hear a thing.” Ragnor mused. “The innkeeper told you that story of the monstrous she-wolf and her pack of hundreds of wolves, and now you’ve begun imagining things, eh, Dallin? Stop worrying about it.”
“Or you might just be deaf, Ragnor.”
“I hear good enough.” Ragnor protested.
“It’s Nymeria. My direwolf.” Arya interjected, looking as anxious as she was excited. She looked towards me. “We have to find her.”
“Do we?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. “How certain are you that the wolf is yours - do you even know where to look? I don’t believe we have the time to hunt for your direwolf, unfortunately. Mayhaps on the way back…”
“Surely a few hours won’t bring the Wall down. Besides, aren’t you a good scout? It might take even less than that.”
“... If this pack did exist, looking for it would be too great of a risk as that would leave the camp vulnerable.” I added, shaking my head. “Everyone will stay put.”
Arya didn’t take too kindly to my reply.
Dallin looked somewhat relieved and so did Sansa. The men at the Crossroads Inn sure do like to talk. ‘There’s this great pack of them, hundreds, man-killers. The one that leads them is a she-wolf, a bitch from the seventh hell.’ one of them had said.
I whistled for Freedom and it flew over to my hand, in all its white majesty. Afterwards, I paced towards Arya and smiled.
“I’ll look for her, alright? If anything... urgent happens, wake me.”
She blinked confusedly before glancing at the falcon and realising what I meant.
“Alright.” She nodded. “I will.”
I’d take a ‘nap’ against a tree and made use of Freedom, skinchanging into it and flying about the forest in search of these wolves. With the keen eyes of the falcon, I could see every little thing from miles away. At closer distances, I even saw insects crawling about and droplets of rain. It was not too long before I saw the first trails that resembled that of a wolf’s... and it was not just one, no, it was at least a couple dozen footprints.
I followed along the trail with great speed and saw the source of it before long; a huge cave in the middle of a hill with packs of wolves gathering as if they were a host. I had never seen so many wolves in one place. There had to be at least fifty prowling outside, with more inside of the cave...
Now, I had little doubt that the leader of this army of wolves was Nymeria, though I wanted to see her first. They began to howl and move from the cave in packs - in the direction of the camp. I kept an eye on them, watching the wolves run out in droves.
Then I saw her, this ‘bitch from the Seventh Hell’. Its golden eyes stared at me as I rested on a tree branch. She was far larger than all the others, and her grey fur reminded me of Robb’s Grey Wind. Even her eyes were of a similar colour.
We shared eyecontact for a couple seconds before the direwolf turned away, sprouting into a sprint.
It seemed to smell something appealing, advancing swifter than any other. Before long, she was at the head of the pack.
Sure, my company could handle any outlaws, but I didn’t consider so many wolves... there was at least a hundred of them.
If we were to be surrounded by such a group, I wouldn’t be able to protect everyone - especially in a forest.
I returned to my own body, immediately drawing out my dragonbone bow. This act alone woke the camp into action.
“What’s wrong, Your Grace?” Ser Balon questioned.
“My lady was right; we have a direwolf on our hands and at least a hundred wolves to add. Everyone, take to the open field. Don’t leave anything behind.”
I mounted my black destrier, who had been happier of late. The stallion did have that one night where I gave him away to a stable and let him do his thing as promised.
“Arya, come with me.” I rode to her, offering my hand.
She took it, and I lifted her up with swift ease, saddling her in front of me.
“Your Grace, that’s the wrong way...”
“I shall meet the pack first.” I determined, smiling at my group of men. “All you lot have to do is protect Lady Sansa in case there are any strays.”
“No wolf will come so close as to take a strand of her hair.” Brynden Tully replied, nodding. Afterwards, he turned to the men. “What are you all waiting for... summer? Do as the King says; take the supplies and rally at the Kingsroad!”
Brynden Tully’s battlefield voice quickened the men, who acted swiftly. I turned to Arya, riding in the opposite direction.
“Now, let’s hope your direwolf is as fond of you as you are her.”
“Nymeria wouldn’t hurt me,” Arya replied, shaking her head. After a moment of silence, she continued. “I’ve... had dreams of it. Dreams where I was Nymeria, bigger than any one of them, stronger, swifter, faster. We would hunt in large packs, feasting on cows, sheep, horses...”
She paused, though I had an inclination as to what she might’ve said.
“I see.” I nodded, feeling rather conflicted. “Your direwolf has gone rather wild. This enormous pack of wolves isn’t doing the Riverlands any favours.”
“Are you... going to kill her?”
“Not unless you want me to.” I patted her head. “Though, I won’t make any promises on the rest of the pack.”
My horse seemed a little unsettled. No doubt, the stallion sensed a direwolf. Their scent always frightened horses - sometimes driving them mad with panic. My boy remained decently composed, however.
I took an arrow, using my keen eyesight, a boon from mastering the sniper discipline. Wolves emerged from the bushes in packs, sprinting forward. I hurried my horse in a retreat while I turned to face the wolves, swiftly readying an arrow and letting it fly.
The first pierced the wolf’s skull and rendered him dead.
This would make for good training, I thought to myself.
Hyper-focus.
The wolves were quick, quicker than my horse was. Time slowed to near a standstill as I slowly readied my arrow and fired off at the nearest of the bunch. I took out a few more before my concentration wore off and time continued at a normal pace.
They were circling around, no doubt aiming to encircle me.
I would take out a few more, though missing far more arrows than I hit. It was difficult to get it right with the speed of the wolves, my horse nudging unsteadily, the sheer size of my dragonbone longbow, and Arya being in the way.
Worst-case scenario, I’d have to rely on Storm Magic to fend them off.
And I did - using lightning-infused arrows to shock packs off with a chain of lightning while retreating off into the open field. I had slain at least sixty of them, yet they continued coming in. They were as fierce and fearless as any pack I had ever known.
Then, the loudest howl of them all froze the wolves still. I kept an arrow at the ready, stopping my horse a good enough distance away.
The direwolf emerged from the forest, its golden eyes gleaming like coins of gold in the moonlight.
“Nymeria...”
Before I knew it, Arya had jumped off my horse and ran to her side. The fall almost injured her but she kept running. I sighed, keeping a close eye on her.
She would stop half-way as one of the wolves snarled at her, a pair of hungry hazel eyes looking upon her as prey.
Nymeria pounced the smaller wolf and dug its massive teeth and claws into it, tearing the beast apart as if it were a lamb or a chicken. Harmless, easy prey. It bit its entire neck off before spitting it to the ground. The rest of the wolves thought for a second time about attacking Arya.
Nymeria was thrice as wild and vicious as Grey Wind, perhaps even twice as large. She was, indeed, monstrous... not at all a pet.
Yet, Arya Stark had no fear for her. She approached with slight caution, but not nearly enough that befits a direwolf.
“Nymeria.” She spoke out. “It’s me, Arya.”
The direwolf, its mouth fresh with blood, looked on. Its eyes seemed to gleem with a certain sadness. Arya raised her hand and caressed the direwolf’s fur, stroking it gently. A strong, cold, breeze of wind went over the field.
“Come with me, to the North. You could see Greywind, Shaggydog and Ghost, they’re all up there.”
Nymeria would step back, glaring at me. I felt that, for a moment, I’d have to break my word.
She looked away and turned to her pack, walking back to the forest. Arya remained still, her brown hair swaying with the wind. She lowered her hand, looking at the retreating pack. I put down my bow and returned the arrow into its quiver, riding towards her slowly.
I had half a mind to slay them all, so that these wolves wouldn’t cause anyone further trouble. Yet, knowing what the direwolf meant to Arya, I didn’t.
“Well?” I questioned. “You found her.”
“We did.” Arya turned to me, teary-eyed. Despite her sadness, she managed to smile. “Nymeria... she found her home. Her new brothers and sisters, maybe even children, and so many of them, too...”
“... That, she did.”
“It’s not like her to come back to me.” She shook her head. “It... will never be the same as it was, and that’s... okay. She’s happier that way.”
She took a deep breath, letting go.
“It’s where she truly belongs.”
For some reason, that struck a cord in my heart. I did not know the beast, yet I felt so strongly about what I had seen.
The direwolf had found her family and couldn’t return to the way things used to be. Nymeria is wild, untamed, and free - like the girl who onced adopted her. She had become a leader amongst her kind and would never truly fit Arya’s life the way she would have wanted.
“Let’s go back to the others.”
I offered my hand and Arya took it.
“That would be for the best. You’ll need some rest after that battle.”
“Me?” I scoffed. “I could’ve slain them all without breaking a sweat.”
“But you did break a sweat.”
“That was the rain...”
“Right.” She chuckled, wiping her eyes. “Help me up already.”
“Of course, my lady.”
I lifted her up on my horse, and we returned to the others.
{Author's note}
The Freys will have to wait till the way back, since they're a good way's off the Kingsroad, and it wouldn't really make sense to visit them.
