FicWad

This is a story about 8 SIs from different places, some historical, some fictional. I will not be revealing who came from where. perhaps you can figure it. out.





TORMUND

(Ugh! That was unpleasant! I’m glad I don’t remember that the first time! I guess The Power wouldn’t let me stay dead after all.)

“You can come in now,” said an elderly female voice. “Edmund, you have a son.”

“Look at that!” exclaimed a male voice. “He has your fire-kissed hair. What will you name him?”

“Tormund after you and my father, Torvald,” replied a younger female voice.

(apparently I still have my gift for languages. That’s useful. Hopefully I have the rest of The Power too.)

Regaining the co-ordination to walk and talk and eat and be toilet trained was a struggle, but remembering having done it before made it easier. Where ever I was, it looked a lot like my home planet. I felt at home here. This, in spite of the fact that I had been born into a tribe that was living in a barely out of the stone age technology base. What metal they did have was either stolen from the Crows or traded from the Thenns. They could re-work the metal, but they were all too isolated to have mines or factories. Besides the local tribe’s area, the whole region was usually called the True North. This implied that I was somewhere near the pole of this planet and that there were lands to the South that considered themselves the to be the North. When I asked North of what, my elders would either mention The Wall, or the Kneelers beyond it. When I finally got to see the wall, I was in for a shock! It was 700 feet tall and stretched as far as I could see in both directions. I had been expecting maybe 20 or 30 feet, but not this! This was clearly beyond the capabilities of these people I had been reborn into.

“Why would anyone build anything like this?” I asked my father. “Who could possibly build something like this?”

“We built it to keep the kneelers out,” replied Edmund. “We had help from the giants and the Children of the Forrest and the first Stark”

I somehow doubted that. The giants were probably real. People talked about them as if they were just another tribe. I’m guessing they are a tribe of unusually tall humans. Maybe as tall as 7 or 8 feet. But the Children of the Forest? In my travels of the 3 galaxies, I have seen things as strange of as the tales of the Children, but if they ever existed, why don’t they still exist? Where are they? And I can’t believe there was some Stark millennia ago who had the technology to build this! No. Clearly this was the work of aliens.

First time I encountered a snow bear, I tested whether or not I still had the Sword of Icy Fire. As it turned out I did. And so I began my snow bear killing spree, just like on my home world.



EDMURE

This must be Hell! It’s my punishment for committing suicide. So now I’m stuck in some medieval hell-hole where I didn’t even know the language at first. Once I learned the Common Westrosi and learned enough about my life to interact the with the world, the thing that annoyed me the most was the music. It was so bland! This was when I began the count my blessings. Being the son of a Lord Paramount gave me the wealth to obtain any instrument I wanted. But none of the Trumpets had valves. Nobody had even heard of valves. I tried having the local blacksmith make them from my description, but he couldn’t even make rotary valves work right. In the end, I had to settle for a miniature trombone that was pitched the same as a trumpet. While learning to play it, I would occasionally play with the visiting bard at a feast. But trying to play along with a harp or a lute, played by someone who didn’t understand what I was trying to do did not satisfy me. I needed my own band. So I recruited a trombonist and a clarinetist. (Even though the clarinets here, in Hell, don’t have enough keys to have very much range) I wanted a rhythm instrument, so I talked a local lute maker into putting a neck on a small drum to make a banjo. In addition to the 4 string one one for my band, I had a 5 string version made and gave it to one of the small folk. I gathered my band together and taught them how to play music my way. At first, my new father was concerned about how much time I was spending on music. But with time, he learned to enjoy my music. This didn’t stop him from nagging me about not spending enough time in the practice yard. He was pretty much like my first father. Scratch that. He was better than the old dad.


SAMWELL

Being born again was quite odd. But once I learned the language, I found myself the son of a nobleman in a land slightly less advanced than my own. But my new father was not pleased to find me working with the blacksmith to make a wood burning stove. I was able to mollify my pater familiaris somewhat by pointing out that pummeling iron with a hammer does similar work at building muscle as does fencing. The enumeration I was able to obtain from selling my Tarly Stoves in the North did not leave my father most pleased either. But the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he discovered that I had engaged in correspondence with a certain bastard son of the Lord Paramount of the North. He made certain threats against my life in order to induce me to join the Order of the Night’s watch. I thanked him, but declined his offer, agreeing instead, to abdicate my heirship to his noble title. I then took my printing press, which I had just finished that very morning and headed for King’s Landing. With the various businesses I had already established and the ones I had future plans for, I expected to be solvent in all due time.

JON

I expected to dissipate into the Force, not to be born in all this blood! I guess the bleeding woman must be my mother and who’s this? It must be my father. I wish I understood their language. Whatever she’s whispering to him is not in Galactic Basic.

Later, I learned the local language and about my situation. I was the son of a primitive Lord. And his wife considered my existence an insult to her because my parents had not been married. I had a half brother: Rob, and in time, I gained other siblings. I wanted to do some sort of tech uplift, but one day in the blacksmith forge taught me better. I might be a master of turning spare parts into spaceships, But i didn’t have the tools to make the tools to make the tools to make what I needed. And being a smith is a skill that took years to learn, much less building on that skill. And so, since I could not make machines to uplift these people, I dedicated myself to improving my mastery of the Force. I didn’t encounter any other Force users, but the Tree that my father prayed at seemed to radiate something that felt like the opposite of the Force. It was slightly painful to be around it, not debilitatingly so, but I would start to get a mild headache after a while of examining it. And my father’s wife had made it clear I was not welcome in her Sept. I didn’t feel this “anti-Force” radiating from the Sept, anyway. It felt the same in the Force as any other building. I did feel this “anti-Force” in varying strengths, in my siblings, with my second brother, Bran having the strongest dose. Deep meditation even revealed this “anti-Force” to be inside me. I resolved to investigate this to see if I could figure out some way to use it.

While visiting, White Harbor, Lord Manderly showed off his new wood burning stove he had imported from the South. It was such a simple thing. Yet I saw immediately it was a step ahead from any technology I had seen on this planet. So, after obtaining the origin of the stove from Lord Manderly, I began sending ravens to the inventor of the wood stove, the son of Lord Tarly in the Reach. Sam’s genius was apparent from the first letter. He used language in a way that was both old fashioned and ahead of his time. I tested him, in my letters, on his knowledge of basic science, and he seemed to be slightly ahead of Maester Luwin. Some of the concepts that I quizzed him on that he didn’t know about seemed to inspire him to more brilliance as i unknowingly gave him clues to things he had not thought of before. In his last letter, he said he was almost finished with making his printing press.


MARGAERY

Being born again was nothing new. I do it all the time. But it had been a while since I had been birthed by a woman. And having a normal human skin tone was a shock too. But I still had my talent with plants. And once I learned their language and regained mobility, a set to work in the gardens of Highgarden.


TRYSTANE

Snake’s teeth! This is some trick, pretending to be a prince. Even after all these years, they haven’t caught on. I’m just dancing through their lives unseen. I LOVE being me! Sure it was a trick to have to learn to speak their tongue and get back in shape. But once I could move, I could dance my way through all their secrets. All while tricking them into thinking I was not a threat to their plans. And I love the terrain here. I reminds me of the deserts back home. The trouble is, since I have been born into this family, I have grown to care for them. Their various plots and plans could easily come back and bite them. Maybe, in a few years when I am bigger and faster, I should go after the Mountain and take care of him myself? And after that, I need to go look into this Viserys, see if he is a worthy mate for my sister.


JOFFREY

People are always looking at me strangely, like they are suspicious or something. Apparently, I learned to talk and walk faster than I was supposed to. I would try to act normal. But I could tell people were not fooled. Still, it was nice being Crown Prince to a King Arthur. But to be honest, my father seems more like the kind of people Arthur would fight. My father is nothing like the Once and Future King. If he even is my father. I don’t look anything like him. And Mother and Uncle Jamie have been fucking since shortly after I was born. They used to not even try to hide it from me.

But, although the privileges of being the Prince are a plus, having to live in this stinking shit pile of a city was a big minus. As soon as I knew enough to ask, I had the servants boil lots of water so I would always have clean water to drink or wash with. And the music was bollochs! It was all this slow dull classical elevator music with lutes and harps and rebecs and recorder quintets. Bach would be considered radical here and Mozart would make them flip! Being a prince, it was not hard to get hold of a lute, re-tune it, and get used to it. I only played when I was alone in my room. But servants talk.

One night, at a feast, that I was not sent to bed before it got interesting, I heard this hurdy-gurdy player slip into a song I had not heard before in a style that I had never heard before in this life, but I had definitely heard in my previous life. The syncopation, the bluesy notes, he was trying to play jazz! I got up from my chair and walked over to him, which make him stop and look fearfully at me.

“Don’t stop,” I asked. “That was Cheer!”

“Your princeliness?” asked the bard, with a tremble.

“Ya know! hip! Cool! Super! Groovy!” I replied.

“I am afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, my prince,” said the bard.

“I’m just saying I like your music,” I assured him. “What was that?”

“Just something I picked up in the Riverlands,” explained the bard. “It’s a new kind of music that was invented by the Lord Hoster’s son. It’s spreading all over the Riverlands. I’m not very good at it, my prince. You should hear the Riverrun Band.”

“Well, we’ll have to invite him here so he can play for us,” boomed my father.

It took a few months later before Lord Edward, or what ever his name was, could get things together and come play for us. He’d brought a band with two trombones, a clarinet and an actual banjo! I couldn’t believe I was actually seeing a real banjo here in stinky Camelot!.

“All right Edmure, let’s hear some of that Riverland Jass my son keeps going on about,” commanded the King.

When they began playing, Edmure was playing a miniature trombone that appeared to be pitched similar to a trumpet. He was clearly the best musician in his band by far. But I couldn’t believe was I was hearing! It sounded like old Jazz from the 1920s. Once he was done, Edmure turned to me.

“I hear you are something of a musician your self,” said Edmure to me. “I would like to hear you play.”

Those damn servants! Someone has been telling tales! While pretending not to be alarmed, I sent a servant for my lute. When he returned, I started into a song that everyone knew in my first life: ‘Roll Over Beethoven’. It was a sort of test to see if he too had memories of 20th century Earth. But to my disappointment, as much as the song shocked and thrilled him, it also appeared to be unknown to him. Still, he was moving with beat. I could tell he could feel it. And I could see in his eyes, the song was sparking musical ideas for him. After I was done I joined with him and his band and played along with them until way past my bedtime.

After that, I decided not to go Edmure’s route and try introducing a completely new form of music to the world. So I didn’t play my old songs anymore. Instead, I wrote new ones, songs that fit the instruments that were available to me.


EDRIC

This new life was not too bad. I was the son of the King, but apparently it mattered a lot that my mother was not the Queen. So I was being raised here in a castle called Storm’s End. I still had my magic. And once I learned the local language and how to move again, I checked to make sure of that. At first, I thought the world I had been re-born into had no magic, but then, I discovered a white stump in an unused garden of the castle. I could feel magic faintly in that stump. So I called forth my wand and channeled some more into it, a mild little spell that made things grow. Instantly a sprout grew out of the stump. As long as I held the spell, the tree kept growing! By the time I released it, it was as half as big around as the stump, a white tree with red leaves. And I could feel the magic radiating from it!

The next day, there was a large commotion in the castle when someone noticed that the tree had re-grown. There was great consternation, especially from the Septon and the Maester. I learned that day that even though this kingdom had no Ministry of Magic, it still would not be wise to be caught doing magic. So from then on, I hid my abilities and did my best to act like a normal King’s bastard. I trained in use of the sword and only practiced my magic when I was certain that I was unseen. But the commotion continued. When some of the servants and soldiers started praying at the tree, the Septon had it cut down, so I re-grew it late one night, twice as big. Seven times the Septon tried to destroy the tree. Each time, I grew it back larger than it had been before. After the seventh attempt he gave up. By then, half the castle were making daily prayers at the tree. When I asked the Maester about the magic of the tree, he assured me that magic was gone from the world and that this tree was a form of fast growing weed. So I made certain not to be seen reading anything about magic. I would have to sneak in at night to read restricted books. (nothing new for me)

When I was eleven, Uncle Renly came to visit Storms End. He did this periodically. But this time he took me back to Kings Landing with him. Apparently, Jon Aryn, the Hand of the King wanted to meet me. Uncle Renly warned me it was important that I not be seen. I serepticiouly cast a notice-me-not charm before Renly snuck me into the Red Keep. He kept forgetting me and I would have to grab him to keep him from wandering off. I dropped the charm before I was brought in to meet Jon Aryn and Uncle Stanis, whom I had not seen in a long time. I wasn’t sure what they wanted with me as they stared at me. At one point Uncle Stanis said:

“Looks just like him”

Then, Uncle Renly asked me to step outside for a moment. I backed out, closed the door behind me and turned around and found me self face to face with a boy that was a few years older than me. From his clothes, I could tell he was someone from a wealthy family.

“Hi, I’m Joffrey”