FicWad

JON

The guards on my sister’s door let me pass, but I knocked anyway.

“Arya, are you decent?”

“Come on in,” said Arya, as she opened the door. She had been kept locked in her room with guards ever since she killed the Queen. King Robert was not at all sorry to lose his queen, but the threat of a Lannister agent coming after my sister was a real one. So she was being kept confined to her room and under guard until she left for Bear Island, where she would be fostered.

She let me pass, so Ghost and I could enter. Nymeria was laying on her bed and raised her head when we entered.

“We’re about to leave for King’s Landing,” I said. “I am sorry that I won’t be able to fence with you anymore. But I think you will like it on Bear Island, learning to be a proper Northern Lady.”

“I’m not a LADY!” growled Arya. “That’s not me!”

“Well, the Mormonts have rather different Ideas about what a Lady need to know that Septa Mordane and Lady Stark do,” I said. “All the Mormot women are warriors. They have a girl a few years younger that you. Perhaps you’ll be able to teach her some of the moves I taught you? Anyway, I brought you a parting gift.”

“What is it?” exclaimed Arya as she began unwrapping the long bundle to reveal the sword inside.

“It’s big enough that you can use it as a two handed sword for now, and when you’re older, you can learn to wield it one handed, if you like,” I explained.

“I love it!” exclaimed Arya, as she gave me a hug.

“And what’s the first lesson?” I reminded her.

“Anger is my tool, not my Master.” recited Arya.

I had tried to teach her a little of my hybrid Jedi/Sith philosophy, but she was still struggling with it.

“I know every else has already scolded you about this, but I just want to say that the reason that killing the Queen was a bad thing is that you did it in anger.” I explained. “You let the Dark Side of the Force control you, instead of controlling it.”

“You can not imagine the Power of the Balanced Force!” recited Arya as she tried to lower her voice to imitate me, before breaking out in a giggle.

“Yes, yes, exactly,” I agreed. “Also, keep practicing with Nymeria.”

“I have been,” said Arya. “Watch this! Nymeria, sit up!”

But her direwolf merely rolled over on her back with he feet in the air and her tongue hanging out.

“She was doing it earlier!” complained Arya.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I can only control Ghost when I am dreaming, still”


JOFFREY

We were preparing to leave for The Wall. Benjen Stark had secured my new father in shackles, along with some criminals that had been held in the Winterfell dungeons. Tomen and I were allowed to have our hands free. We weren’t allowed to take many possessions with us. Our fancy clothes would not be of any use on The Wall. I was allowed to keep the sword my grandfather gave me, all decorated in golden lions. And I also had my crossbow and my lute. Tomen had his cat in his arms. I had secretly packed in my things the valerian steel dagger I got from my father and hoped no one will take it from me. Myrcella and Sansa were here to see us off.

“I am sorry that they had to break our betrothal,” I said, as a kissed Sansa’s hand.

“Sansa helped me make these for you and Tomen,” said Mycella, as she handed us each a pair of winter mittens.

“Thank you,” a said as I hugged my sister for the last time.

Tomen still wasn’t speaking to any of us. But he did hug our sister goodbye. Then my father bent, so she could give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry for the mess I made of your life . . . all of yours,” said our father, the Kingslayer. At least, at The Wall, I can help protect you from the wildlings.

“That’s enough!” admonished Benjen Stark. “Mount up, everyone!”

Those of us who were shackled had to use a log to help climb onto their horse. I helped up Tomen, so he wouldn’t need to let go up his cat while he climbed upon his steed. Then we rode out of WInterfell, away from my life as a prince, and to my new life as a prisoner on The Wall.


TRYSTANE

Once again, I emptied my stomach over the rail. I hate ship travel! In the wereworld I see things differently, the buildings of man appear as the the buttes and mesas of the dessert. But the Narrow Sea appears as a raging river, too wide to see the other side of. Swimming across it is not an option. And so I have to ride in this ship of men in order to return home. Urk! Here it comes again! Better lean over the rail!


MARGAERY

It took me years to take over Highgarden. I needed to time to grow up, to tend my garden, breed my plants, subvert my new family. But plants are patient. All of them soon fell under my power. I was the shadow queen of Highgarden, using my father and my brothers as pawns to run the Reach. But of all my family, my grandmother proved to be the most useful member of the family, a veritable font of knowledge. She had been around for a long time and developed a network of contacts that gave her information, information that had led me here, to Storm’s End, with my brother, Loras.

While growing my plants in the High Garden, I have often pondered the strange white stump, a remanent of an old near-extinct religion only still followed by the Northern Barbarians. Apparently to the Old Religion, this tree had been a church of sorts. But with the coming of the Andals, and their religion of the 7 gods, the trees had all been felled, leaving only stumps that have not rotted from some reason. The white stump had defied all my efforts to revive it. But I had heard that here, one had returned to health, that the Septon and tried felling the tree 7 times and it always grew back. And so I had come to investigate.

The white Weirwood Tree with red leaves stood here. It looked hundreds of years old. But supposedly it was only a few years old, grown from the stump of the old Tree. The Old Religion had seen a revival because of this Tree. And even now, there were a handful of people praying at the Tree. Some would kneel and pray, others would just sit beneath it. After removing my shoes, I gingerly walked up to the Tree, knelt and placed with my hands on it. The Tree must have recognized a kindred spirit in me because as soon as a touched it it began flooding my mind with emotions and images. The Tree was talking to me. Apparently the roots of all the Weirwood Tree stumps in the Reach were interconnected to each other and to some living trees on an island in the Rverlands. I wondered how this one tree had come back when none of the other stumps had, so the Tree showed me. I opened my eyes and looked around until I saw him.
“Boy! Come here! Yes you!” I said to the black-haired boy who looked a few years younger than me. “What is your name?”

“Edric Storm, my Lady,” replied the boy.

“How did you make the Tree grow?” I demanded.

“My Lady, I don’t know what you are talking about,” denied Edric.

“That’s not what the Tree says,” I replied. “It showed me. You waved a stick and the tree grew back.”

“My Lady, could we perhaps discuss this privately?” whispered Edric, while glancing around at all the people who were staring at us.

“Oh don’t you worry about them,” I replied, taking a few steps to get me upwind. “I can take care of them.”

Pulled from my purse a handful of pollen and released it. Everyone downwind promptly collapsed.

“There. When they come to, they won’t remember the last 5 minutes,” I explained to Edric, who was staring at me, wild-eyed.

“So you’re a Witch from Earth too?” asked Edric.

“Well, I am from Earth, but I’m not a Witch,” I replied, letting my natural green skin tone show for an instant before a returned to my more pinkish disguise. “I do this with science. Since you phrased it this way, am I to assume that you, yourself are some sort of Witch?”

“Wizard,” replied Edric, as a stick appeared in his hand and the tip lit up.


EDRIC

Margaery Tyrell ended up sharing our stories until late in the evening. We showed each other some of the things we could do. I shared my magic and she shared a variety of tricks that looked like magic to me, but that she swore we based in science, even though the explanation of how she did them was incomprehensible to me. Just before bed, I sent my owl with another letter to my friend Joffrey. I told him about meeting Margaery, but ommitted any references to her science or my magic. As good as pen-pal as Joffrey had become, I was not about to risk my life by sharing the secret of my magic. But he would surely enjoy knowing that I had found another earthling.
The next morning, the whole castle was thrown in to a hubbub. Due to my low status, I was not in the inner circle of information. I tried asking around with the servants, but the tales they were told unbelievable: that a little girl had murdered the Queen, that the Kingslayer tried to kill a baby, that the Kingslayer lost a duel with a young bastard boy, that the Imp was now the Hand of the King. Whatever was going on, we were going to war, and the whole castle was preparing for it. Prince Renley would be taking half the garrison to King’s Landing, including me.

When we set out, with Prince Renly in the lead, with Ser Loras and Lady Margaery riding alongside. I rode behind them, ready to aid Prince Renley if called upon, as is the duty of a page.


JOFFREY

We stopped for the night and made camp with a simple meal of hardtack and jerky, washed down with ale we had brought from Winterfell.

“You know, one thing I have always wondered . . .” mused Benjen Stark. “Why did you kill the mad king?”

“Finally . . .” my father huffed, before beginning his tale of the madness of wildfire. I was horrifed by it. We all were.

“And all those years, you never told anyone?” asked Benjen

“Who would believe me?” replied Ser Jamie. “Once your brother named me Kingslayer, the whole world believed what they wanted to”

Benjen seemed to ponder on this for a while before saying: “Alright. If you give me your word you’ll not try to escape and help me control these two, I’ll take the shackles off.”

“I so swear on my honor as a knight,” swore Ser Jamie.

After he removed the shackles, Benjen said: “But if you break your word, the shackles will go on your sons too.”


JON

Being betrothed to the future queen, got me into the inner circle. When we rested, I would rest with King Robert, my father, and Lord Tyrion. All of them tried their best not to show how nervous my direwolf made them. After passing through the Twins, where the King had collected his raven messages, but not stayed, we had stopped to rest under this tree where the guards had made a makeshift table and stools for us to sit around and share wine.

“I got a Raven from Varys,” announced the King. “Viserys Targaryen tried to trade his sister to some horselord for an army. Instead, she murdered him and fled. In retaliation, the Dothraki sacked Pentos.”

“And what was the source of this information?” asked Lord Stark.

“Varys had a spy in Pentos, Jeor Mormont,” explained the King. “You might remember him from the seige of Pike.

“Aye, I remember,” growled my father. “I also remember that I caught him selling men into slavery. I wouldn’t trust anything this man says.”

“From what I hear, Viserys inherited his father’s madness,” added Lord Tyrion. “It’s likely that Viserys did something to provoke him and the horse lord killed them both. If so, this is the end of the Targaryens.”

“We can only hope,” said the King, as he raised his goblet. To the End of the Targaryens!”


JOFFREY

The next morning, as we were breaking our fast, an owl flew in and landed on my shoulder.

“What in the Others name is that?” asked Gren, one of the shackled rapists who was traveling with us.

“It’s an owl,” I replied, as I untied the letter from his leg. “It brought me a letter from my brother, Edric. Oh . . . .” I had suddenly realized that Edric was no longer my brother.

“Just a minute, have you have been exchanging messages with your bastard brother in the Stormlands?” asked Jamie. “You know he’s not really your brother?”

“Yes, yes, I know that now,” I said glumly.

“So, he took more family away from us,” growled Tomen.

Our father winced at that. I made no mention of it. I was glad that Tomen was talking to me again.

“He says that Lady Margaery Tyrell came to see the Miracle tree,” I explained.

“Oh yes! I think I heard something about that,” exclaimed Jamie. “Apparently the Septon tried cutting it down seven times and it grew back overnight each time.”

“What!” asked Benjen. “This is the first I heard of this. Looks like the Old Gods are taking an interest in Storms End!”

“I would like to write him a reply,” I announced. “Does anyone have a pen and ink?”

“Not very likely!” snickered Benjen. “Not until we get to Castle Black.”

In the end, I had to sharpen a stick, prick my finger and use my own blood for ink to write my letter to Edric, explaining all that happened to me.


JON

We were in the Riverlands. While we slept, I was roaming around in Ghost accompanied by Summer, as my brother Bran was also traveling with us to King”s Landing. We crept along the underbrush, sniffing around, searching for prey, when we caught a scent of something human. Sneaking closer, we saw a large group of men sneaking through the forrest. Their leader was the largest man I had ever seen, at least on this planet.

“Remember our orders,” whispered the big man. “After we kill the King, we leave. There’s no point in fighting after that.”

“JON! WAKE UP!” yelled Bran.

“I’m awake,” I moaned. Being inside Ghost always gives me the most Sith awful headache. Looking at Bran I could see his eyes were all white, meaning he was still watching them from inside inside of Summer.

“Quietly, go wake up Father, then the King’sguards. Let them know what is going on,” I instructed.

There was not time to don my armor, I grabbed my sword and ran outside. By now, I knew better than to try to use the Force to push away the headache. But using the pain would help me become more powerful in the Dark Side. Which I would need to defeat this giant. I gritted me teeth and let my anger flow. When the small army got close enough to see me, they saw I was waiting for them, sword in hand, looking in their direction. The giant charged me and his army followed. He swung his greatsword at me. I knew it would not be possible to parry his blows without using the Force to enhance my strength. So I dodged and decapitated one of the other men. I could hear Ghost and Summer on the edges of the battle picking off the stragglers, while I held off this giant and his men. Fortunately, this time, I didn’t have to protect Bran, so I didn’t have to hold back at all! I was making a pile of bodies out of this army. But although I could probably beat this giant if we were alone, I was unable to land a killing blow while fighting off his whole army. How could someone so big, move so fast? I became aware of Bran’s success when I heard the others join the battle, the King’sguard, my father Lord Stark, the King’s soldiers, Even the King himself. The giant must have realized that the tide had turned, because he pulled his army out in retreat and fled into the night.

I closed me eyes and ignored the carnage around me as a focused on my breathing and pulling back from the Dark Side of the Force. I ignored their jabbering As I tried to achieve Balance in the Force.

“You fought the Mountain,” said the King. “You fought the Mountain That Rides to a standstill! Your son fought the Mountain That Rides, Gregore Clegane and his whole army, killed 20 of his men and lived to tell the tale! Here you have it, proof that your boy with the right man to be the next king!”

“21,” I corrected. “I killed 21 of his men. And no, I will not be King. I agreed to marry your niece. But your brothers will be King if you die before them. After after them, your niece will be Queen. I agreed to marry her and I will. And when she is Queen, I will lead her armies, if she can not. But SHE will be Queen, not me.”

“I think that is a wise decision,” agreed my father, Lord Stark. “But why would Tywin do this? Surely he knows the lives of his son and granddaughter are forfeit if he attacks?”

“I told you my father doesn’t give a damn about me,” said Lord Tyrion. “He probably thought if he could kill Robert now, He could then rescue Jamie and the boys so he could put Joffrey on the throne. If I know my father, his orders to Clegaine were vague enough that he can truthfully say he didn’t actually order Clegane to do this. Well, here I am. If you want to kill me I can’t really stop you. I’d rather you didn’t. But the decision is yours. You can even send word to to Winterfell had have Mycella killed. But how will killing an innocent little girl help anything?”

The King huffed.

“I don’t really want to kill you, Imp,” said King Robert.

“Why don’t you just replace Lord Tywin?” I asked.

“Tywin is Warden of the West,” pointed out my father. “You can’t just attain him and take his title until after the war is won.”
“There’s going to be a war,” mused Robert. “I knew it was coming but I didn’t know who against.”

“I’ve known it since I saw Jon fighting Jamie Lannister,” replied Father.

“Fucking hell! My brother was here and I slept through it!” growled Sandor Clegaine, as he stumbled out of his tent.