Chapter 4
I knew by just existing that canon was derailed.
Drop a rock in a pond and there will be ripples. Being a giant flaming robotic hellhound was like dropping a boulder. I was in Westeros early enough that I was entering uncharted territory. For all, I know the King wouldn't be dying by 'accident' anytime soon and the Seven Kingdoms wasn't going to go into a civil war.
"Dull the shock" Ben reasoned, "We should go ahead of you."
"And make sure no one would be screaming at the sight of you Ser Scorch." Umber added.
Apparently, a zombie, a spear made of evil god blood, and a giant robotic arsonist were a lot to take in all at once. From the hill, I could see the growing tent city being pitched in front of Winterfell and its castle town, Winter Town, and also a crowd of people milling around.
"What do you think the kneelers are doing?" pondered Val.
"Do you want my words or what you would say?" I looked to the gathered lords, among them the most outspoken.
"Entertain your lady-wife." Umber shrugged, "I'm not some flowery southern cunt who wilts with harsh words."
I comfort myself knowing that at least it wasn't consummated.
"Kneeler bosses waiting to kiss the arse of the head Kneeler while they wait for the Chief Kneeler to kiss his arse and convince him to send fighters to The Wall."
"Kneelers." She shook her head.
I nod, "Kneelers."
"Typical wildling." Umber shook his head, "We have more than one word to insult you savages."
"Lord Umber please...." Eddard groaned.
Suddenly we hear the bellow of a northern horn and men shouting/relaying the news of their arrival.
"That is the signal." Bolton observed, "I suggest we arrive at Winterfell proper Lords."
"Aye." Karstark nodded, "It's best we get this over with."
"I bet they'll scream and shit when they see you." Val wagered.
"I would hope not." Ned grumbled as he turned to look at the assembled mixed guards, "Half of you clear a path for us and give them forewarning of Ser Scorch. The other half with us. When the time is right secure the boxes in the cellars and wait for my call to fetch them."
A smattering of 'yes lords' later Karstark, Umber, Bolton, and Stark men rode ahead into Winterfell, the others busied themselves tying our loot onto the backs of their strongest draft horses.
"I do not want them out of my sight," I tell Ned.
"It is necessary I am afraid. We must feed them ill-news gently."
As we approached people began to notice us. First Men, Andal, knight, servant, peasant all turned their eyes to look at us but their reaction was all the same; Each and every one of them was wary. Half were afraid, the other half was ready to draw weapons as if they could do anything.
Only the men that rode with us to Winterfell reacted with anything that wasn't that. Their face was neutral and stiff, slowly forming an escort around us as they led us through the tent city.
"What is that?" Val pointed to the side.
I glanced to the side and froze mid-step.
Nested behind more tents, flags, and boxes was a massive carriage. The Royal Carriage. Think of the largest, gaudiest camp trailer you have ever seen … then make it move on wood wheels and lugged around by a whole set of horses.
"That is a Wheelhouse," I whispered.
"And what is a 'Wheelhouse'?"
"A house on wheels."
"It looks stupid." She mumbled.
Not as stupid as the lady and brat who rode in it but Cersei Lannister and her son Joffrey were more known to be evil, spiteful assholes than idiots. Not by the Westerosi of course, until Robert shuffled off the mortal coil they wouldn't know how horrible those two narcissistic sociopaths would be in charge.
And they were already here. Judging by Ned's look he was just as confused as me.
"My lords." One of the Stark guards approached, "The King awaits."
I nodded and resumed walking. It was completely silent at first going from the tents to the town but I began to hear them mumbling and whispering to each other. Whether it was bad, good, or a mixture of both I couldn't say. There were so many people and enhancing hearing doesn't come with the best filter.
"It's as if they are seeing a man be brought to an execution," Karstark mumbled.
Umber snorted, "Rather
that then tell them the end of the world nears."
Finally, we stood before the gates of the castle proper. Winterfell was made with the help of giants and it was tall enough to fit them. Barely. I crawled more than I walked but wasn't going to waste power or cause a panic like I did scaling The Wall.
Blocked by horses and banners I couldn't see what was going on but I could hear a familiar voice.
"Gods you got old Ned," A voice grunted.
Oddly enough it wasn't Robert's actor. Instead, it was Brian Blessed's booming voice. I was starting to think canon wasn't even there in the first place.
"Ser Scorch can you show yourself?"
Hearing Eddard call out to me I complied.
Rising out from the gate I could see the courtyard and it was just as filled with people as the rest. Here was where the Castle Servants and the actual nobles, both landed knights and ladies had congregated. Like the rest some were nervous, others expecting trouble, but there was also a new group: the greedy ones. My gut instincts told me they were watching me not because they were worried about my presence but because they wanted to see what kind of playing a piece I was in their 'game'. And among them was the Queen.
Both her and the King just walking out the Great Hall. Cersei was ridiculously attractive and looked younger than age suggested while Robert was …. fat. He had the beard of an old slob and massive weight issues that would have killed him as easily as the 'accident' in canon.
"Your Highness…"
Even as honorable and proper as the castle's lord was, there would always be a brothel wherever men congregated. Today the Winter Town brothel was busy with many, many, many customers from far-off. King Robert among them. Tyrion Lannister was not. There would always be a brothel wherever he went and Tyrion was focused on his other favorite pursuit: knowledge.
Winterfell's Maester Luwin was his only company in the aptly named Library Tower and he watched Tyrion like a hawk. Not out of suspicion of being a dwarf for once, but because the elderly man would let no harm on his books come to pass and for good reason. The library of Winterfell was just as ancient as it's the castle. In its collection were worn rune-carved planks and slabs of wood and stone, dozens of scrolls made of rich vellum and some sort of swamp reed, and more than enough books to keep him satisfied.
"Should you be enjoying what Winterfell has to offer Lord Tyrion?" Luwin asked.
"Women are for later.
Words are for now." Tyrion quipped, "There will always be another whore house but there are too few libraries."
"Not my words but I see your thinking, Lord Tyrion." Luwin acknowledged, "Although I do not see why you have so many books pulled from the shelves."
The stack next to Tyrion was near thrice the height of the very short man.
"I am looking."
"If I may ask: for what?"
"Myths and legends."
Luwin grimaced, "So you heard the rumors. Do you believe them?"
"Don't you? Lord Stark IS your lord."
"Indeed Young Ned is my lord." the Maester nodded, "And the First Ranger is his brother."
"But you doubt him."
"I believe that my Lord believes something is amiss and the ravens from the Wall and others tell that there is." Luwin grasped the chain around his neck, each link representing one mastery of a subject, "You will see that I have a link of Valyrian steel."
"The one for magic." Tyrion observed, "Well. What does a Maester who forged his chain say?"
"Caution."
"No fun in that." Lannister shrugged, "and it helps to be prepared Maester Luwin. Now, wherein the Seven Hells do you put your books of superstitious nonsense?"
"If you must know." Luwin answered, "In my study."
"And where is your study?"
"In my tower."
"And where is your tower?"
"Closed behind a lock of my own personal make." the Maester explained, "They may be books of superstitious nonsense but they are still prized possessions."
"...And?"
"...So far nothing." Luwin replied glum, "There is no denying some manner of great creature rides with Lord Stark but every treatise I have read tells nothing of giant shapeshifters of fire and steel."
"Then I shall write one!" Tyrion exclaimed, "
The Steel-Fire Wolf by Tyrion Lannister, Dwarf-Lord of Casterly Rock. Just one of many lasting memories I shall leave Westeros … besides the number of women I fucked."
The Maester coughed, "Must you?"
"Every Lord must have a legacy." the Lannister shrugged.
His sister was the Queen who would help found a new dynasty while his brother was one of the Kingsguard, the highest station any Knight could aspire to be. He would have the ancestral home but that wasn't enough. Never enough.
"Once my father passes I will be lord of Casterly Rock and Lord-Paramount of the Westerlands. I think besides putting some work done on my future holdings I would have something else added to my name."
"Being a good lord is good enough."
"It worked well with Lord Stark, yes." Lannister admitted, "But when you are shorter than most men you need to aim higher."
Suddenly a horn bellowed and was followed by shouting. Relayed from post to post the guards shouted out that Lord Stark and the party had finally arrived.
"Speaking of aim, it seems my calculations were correct." Luwin concluded, "He HAS arrived today as I expected."
Together they trundled down the stairs and where outside they could see people of all stripes move toward Lord Stark's general direction of arrival. Reaching the door they by chance ran into King Robert, somewhat disheveled and smelling of … exertions. Besides the King, Jaime and the other Kingsguard tried to hide their scrunched noses
"'Bout fucking time," Robert grumbled.
"Wasn't that what you were already doing your grace?"
"Bah!" Robert scoffed, "Always trying to show off your wit Imp."
"It is what I am known for." Lannister shrugged.
"Your grace" Luwin spoke up, "Lord Stark will likely want to speak with you quick-"
"Aye, Maester" The king waved off, "Go tell the other lords to gather in the hall. Tell them I said so. I'll fetch Ned myself."
"It seems that he is coming to us instead. But I will have Winterfells' staff to inform the lords."
Luwin was not an errand boy but as the king says, the king's subjects do.
"Now it's time Ned explains all this I hear about snarks and grumpkins..." Robert mulled.
With that said they moved further into the courtyard and for a man of his age and weight, Robert was quick to reach his old friend and the future Lord of Casterly Rock for once struggled to keep pace with his short legs.
They stopped in front of the gate to see the Queen there aloof but present, along aside the Stark family, and many other assembled servants and highborn. Out from the gate and on a horse were a tall, stone-faced man in grey and grim furs. He was stark in both House and in presence. Still, Lord Stark gave an air of relief at finally being home and had a thin smile looking at his gathered family.
On seeing the King, Eddard and company moved to fall to his knee and only stopped by Robert holding his hand out for them to stop.
"Gods you got old Ned," Robert observed.
"And you've gotten fat," Eddard replied.
Insulting most kings was one of the easiest forms of suicide. Fortunately, Robert wasn't like most kings. His response was to grin and laugh.
"Ned!" His voice boomed, suddenly grasping his friend in a bear hug, " It has been too long!"
"It has been some seasons, your grace."
"Bah! Call me Robert." he exclaimed with one arm over Ned's shoulder, "For once I'd like someone to not say that I'm not king."
"You are King … my king."
Robert groaned, "And they say you are as humorless as my brother Stannis."
"I've learned many things when we were fostered with Lord Arryn. You as well."
"Aye." the king looked wistful, "A good man and a good father..."
"..."
"Well! Now with that done, we should be having a drink! Lumpy!" he shouted to his squire, "LUMPY! Where are you!?"
"My cousin Lancel is sick, your grace." Tyrion pointed out, "You had him be your food taster for the Riverland Eel Pie."
"It's
just the shits."
"To put it lightly." he winced, "And there is also the matter of the 'rumors'."
"The rumors." The King mulled, "Right. Ned, Benjen, and …" Robert glanced between Lords Karstark, Bolton, and Umber, "...Lords. We need to talk."
"Aye, we do your grace." Umber nodded, joined by the other two.
With all of them in agreement the gathered Lords shuffled toward the inner keep and all this time the King spoke animatedly with Eddard, talking about memories made in their time with Lord Arryn and the two wars that they fought together.
"I am surprised that you have arrived so early. Even if the Kingsroad is better paved I thought it would be another week before your arrival."
"I took a boat." Robert brushed off, "If Old Jon was still here he would be in my ear shouting why in the world would I pay for a small fleet's worth of cogs and carracks to bring us here."
"He would. All coin must come from somewhere."
"I am King." Robert boasted, "And coin comes to me. We were lucky as well. The winds were strong from south to north. It was as if
the very gods themselves wanted me in Winterfell as soon as possible!"
"Perhaps." Stark answered at the steps of The Great Hall, "Winter is coming."
"We'll see Ned. We'll see. Now, where is that magic wolf the smallfolk have been blabbering about!?"
Eddard grimly nodded, "Ser Scorch."
When the King asked for evidence they expected something; just not what Eddard specifically claimed. Eddard's retinue parted in two and from the darkness of the gate the court of King Robert saw four glowing red eyes and a massive thing emerging into the light.
"By the seven!"
"Seven hells...."
"Gods be good."
Fuck he was big. Tyrion realized. Bigger than the giant Gregor Clegane and even actual giants. As Eddard claimed, Ser Scorch was a great wolf made of fire and steel, larger than any Dire Wolf. Cersei was to the side and this time she did not get over her shock. Her eyes were wide and fearful as much as anyone else's. The Queen could not mask it and clutched their brother's arm for security.
"Your Highness." It muttered, the words causing many in the crowd to flinch.
"By the gods, you talk also!" Robert exclaimed.
"I can. I am Scorch and The Gods told me to warn you of The Others."
"Fuck that," the king huffed, "Your convincing already. We have more important business."
"What else?"
"Drink." Robert grinned, "It's about damn time we get a fucking drink with today."
His response was a mess of nods and grumbles of agreement from the various lords. Eddard shook his head and whispered to the nearest servant; likely to get Northern mead from the cellars. The King was going to drink Winterfell dry sooner rather than later.
The Great Hall of Winterfell accommodated Scorch, if barely. Seeing the creature Tyrion could see why it was theorized that Giants had helped construct Winterfell. The doors as tall as some walls made sense as did the floor made of large carved stone slabs that could accommodate the weight.
Even so, the 'Transformer' was stuck wedged between the tables, servants, and the odd pillar.
At the head of the table was Robert, to the left was Lord Eddard and the First Ranger, to the right sitting there for the sake of being there was Cersei who looked ready to fill their ears with noise.
The rest of the gathered members were lords sitting at tables and various guards and servants standing on the wings; among them Tyrion, Luwin, and the lady Val, Scorch's Lady-Wife. The exact details of their marriage were only alluded to. At least the Shapeshifter had good taste. More than one man, he and the king included were imagining what she looked like without her furs.
The story was strange enough without it coming from the mouth of a giant, fire-breathing shapeshifter and also a man known by many as Honorable or Honest Ned.
The Long Night returning? Across the Great Hall, the Lords of the North and those who had followed Robert from the south were skeptical. That wasn't even mentioning the looks of the Maester and the dozens of different guards among their charges. Tyrion only glanced at his brother and the other two Kingsguards to tell they were fine with just standing there and looking knightly.
The first to say something was Lord Wyman Manderly. The old, portly man ruled the North's port city of White Harbor and the money and influence to throw around.
"It is hard to believe." said Lord Manderly, "And I speak for many Lord Stark. That if not for your Brother and Ser Scorch testifying I would think this is a delusion."
"I have fought them." replied Benjen, "I have nearly died had it not been for Ser Scorch and his spells."
"House Manderly has always been loyal to House Stark since they accepted my forefathers years ago. You will always have my support but the men who swear an oath to me will need to be convinced as well. No offense Scorch." he pointedly looked to the giant metal wolf.
"None taken Lord Manderly." the creature replied.
Lord Stark gestured to his servants and they opened the door for a mixed guard of Stark men alongside men from the other three houses that came with Eddard. With them were two boxes gently placed in the middle of the room.
"More proof Lord Manderly." Eddard explained, "I wished we did not need to bring it out but you are correct more proof is better than less."
Suddenly one began to violently shake while the other, seemingly in response, began to seethe an eerie purple light from the cracks.
"Gods be good." Luwin gasped.
"Some sort of trick," whispered Lord Manderly.
"If anything a
magic trick." Greatjon grumbled, "Your Grace, Lords, Lord Stark and the Night's Watch speaks the truth. THAT is a Wight and right next to it is a weapon of the White Walkers."
Robert's brows furrowed and against the pleas of his guards, stood up and walked over to the boxes. He stared at the Wights's container for a time and then finally spoke.
"...open it."
Tyrion's brother was the first to speak out, "Your grace-"
"Open. It. Your King commands it."
The guards looked to Stark and Stark looked back. After a moment's pause, he closed his eyes, "Open it."
"...yes…lord." the lead guard said hesitantly.
One by one the ropes and chains were removed from the box until finally, IT burst free. It was a corpse of a long-dead, long rotted man; and it was moving. The snarling abomination thrashed in its restraints. Even if parts of its body were burnt, mauled, and for two limbs reduced to stumps it continued to screech and try all in its power to grasp at a new victim. Only the last few chains held it back from murdering Robert but Robert still remained unfazed.
No one else reacted that well. The Wight's minders already had their weapons pointed at the Wight and the various lords and knights had stumbled and shouted back in shock, some not even thinking about grabbing their swords and too stuck gawking at it.
"Y-Your Grace-" Tyrion's brother interjected again.
Robert held his hand out and approached the Wight unafraid of the horror. He stood no more than five steps away and looked as it turned its inhuman gaze on the king.
"So this is a creature from legend." He grunted, "hmph."
"Your Grace." Eddard warned, " I do not think it is safe to-"
"Not now Ned." He waved him off, "I've seen death in the eye more than once and one rotten cunt trying to rip me limb from limb is the same as any living cunt."
Suddenly they heard a snapping and cracking noise and the entire room saw the corpse break its bones …. and slip out its restraints. The Wight had broken free. As a creature possessed it rushed toward the closest object with claws and teeth ready to rip out a man's throat. Robert's throat to be specific.
"KING ROBERT-"
Time stilled as lords and guards lunged forward in vain hopes of stopping a kingslaying.
But of all the things Tyrion expected, he didn't expect Robert to headbutt the Wight. With a loud crack, the animated corpse crashed into the earth now sporting a partially shattered skull. Robert was not worse for wear; except his crown was dented in a way that would make jewelers and smiths wince.
"Seven hells he's an
ugly fucker." Robert spat on the corpse, "Probably was when he was still living. I trust you Ned and this rotting bastard is proof why I do."
The Wight continued to impotently twitch on the floor as the various lords crowded around it. Tyrion included. There was no denying that this was a corpse raised from its rest.
"A second Long Night."
"Impossible."
"We must pray to the Seven."
"Pray? I will be busy getting my daughters across the Narrow Sea."
"Piss on that! we fight them just like the Wildlings!"
The assembled lords argued amongst themselves. Some in denial, some ready to run, some prepared to fight. His brother was the uncertain fourth group.
The Kingsguard turned to Tyrion, "What do you think?"
Cersei had jumped in fright just like the test of them. But while the gathered Lords were crowded around the Wight the Queen remained at her seat, quietly conversing with the other two Kingsguard.
"Ser Trant and Ser Blount are more Cersei's creatures than Lannister's."
"Our dear sister cannot be that blind to this."
"Not blind Jaime. Only directed toward her own purposes. Keep her focused."
"And towards what?"
"That whatever she does, doesn't get us all killed. Or worse."
"Someone get me a map! Robert finally barked, "and someone move that damn corpse somewhere it doesn't stink!"
The basics of basic plans were made. Men to be levied or at least made 'aware', routes for supplies written out, ships cataloged should there be a need to evacuate or to ferry troops and provisions. The gathered lords poured over the map with Robert's long-unused military mind showing signs it was still there.
"My Brother Stannis sits on a damn volcano. He is my Master of Ships and I can see enough Dragonglass being sent north for the Others to choke on it."
"White Harbo will always have its docks open. And your other Brother? What of Lord Renly?"
"Renly is squiring that Tyrell boy. The Reach will have the knights and grain. Kingslayer!" He shouted to Jaime, "Do you know if we have Westerland gold!?"
"He does not offer gold for nonsense-" Cersei interjected.
"-You will need to ask my father, your grace." The Kingsguard replied succinctly.
Tyrion shook his head. More than enough was borrowed by the crown. Jon Arryn would be turning in his grave … hopefully not literally. The war would be lost before it even began.
"Your map is shit."
Among the voices Lady Val raised hers.
"You insult your king!?" Ser Blount shouted in outrage.
"I'm no Kneeler." Val hissed, "I am one of the Free Folk and I know your map is shit because I live, breathe, and shit where you drew wrong."
The Kingsguard scowled, "And who are you to say it Wildling-"
Scorch finally spoke, he stared and growled at the Kingsguard and Ser Blount finally realized he had taken a step too far, "My
Lady-Wife Val is the Goodsister of Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall. He leads them south because of The White Walkers. Either you offer refuge or we face thousands of desperate men and women and THEN the Others who may just as well raise them to fight you again."
His gaze swept back to King Robert, "Lord Stark and Lord-Commander Mormont are willing to hear them out. Will His Grace and the other lords of The North say the same?"
"They are savages, my husband." Cersei intervened, "One of them wed herself to an animal."
Val only rolled her eyes to Cersei's annoyance.
"Enough woman!" Robert snapped back, "Your prodding does not help!"
"That so-called Wildling King is no real king." She continued, "They are barbarians with no laws or lords."
"They have rules and leaders like anyone else in Westeros or Essos." Scorch cut in, "There are also the Thenns."
"We known of them but they rarely approach The Wall, unlike others." Replied Benjen, "They keep to their valley."
"They have a Magnar, their King, with Lords, and Laws." Scorch explained, "They are fierce fighters but also better organized and equipped."
"So an actual King north of the Wall? With his own Kingdom..."
"....And with a son of marrying age."
Some lords' attention perked up in interest. Some had daughters and nieces to spare Tyrion suspected and a King was still a King no matter their origins.
"They are close to Kneelers as much as Free Folk can be. Also one of the larger ones" Val admitted, "Mance has been trying to get them to his side for a long time."
"Perhaps he will." Bolton mulled, "Your Grace, Lord Stark, I am willing to accept Wild-Free Folk into my lands."
"You must be joking Lord Bolton." Umber chided.
"I am not." Bolton reaffirmed, "Like what Ser Scorch said I would rather not face so many enemies unless we need to. We are the north. We must be pragmatic unlike the flowers of the south."
Robert snorted, "As one of those flowers of the south I fucking agree."
Talks and negotiations continued until finally the gathered highborn had enough of strategizing and the whole affair was put aside for the next day. Lord Stark wanted to see his family after being cooped up in the great hall for hours, Robert was the opposite.
Cersei dragged Jaime to the side for something (or was it the other way around?) and whispered harshly…. But he could see the other two Kingsguard follow the Stark men that were carting away the boxes.
His eyes narrowed. Sometimes a man, or at least half a man, had to do things himself. Tyrion watched them step into a chamber and no one bothers looking down to see the man known as 'The Imp' was following right behind them.
That went better than expected. Except for Cersei maybe. I think she just wanted to play Miss Contrarian and tick Robbert off. Or get some political leverage (somehow). Or both.
At least the wind so far was blowing in our direction as we left the Great Hall.
Tonight was going to be a big feast with me and Stark being the guests of honor. Technically Robert was but I'd like to keep on his good side until we at least offed The Night King. For now, at least we were outside of Winterfell. Val disliked how cramped and busy the castle and Winter Town was and I agreed with her.
The both of us sat by a warm fire and next to a large pool. It wasn't on any map. It was just a deep enough ditch that water from a nameless stream fed in and out of.
"That Wight has every bone snapped in its body," Val explained. "wrapped in chains, and shoved in a pit with Stark's men watching it. And the spear also."
"I still don't think it was a good idea."
"Scorch." She rolled her eyes, "Who would be stupid enough to mess with them?"
"You are tempting fate."
"Says the shapeshifting warrior sent by the gods."
"Tempting. Fate."
Val shook her head, "I am taking a bath. I've been smelling like shit since we got past The Wall and I'm not going to let some Kneelers peek on me."
"I'm sitting right here."
"You are my husband. Now are you going to wash the shit off of you also or am I the only one going to smell like mint and pine?"
"...I should have asked for soap…"
"You mean polish?"
"That too."
Queen Cersei may have chosen them. They may be loyal Lannister men, but they still had to have something to justify their induction into the Kingsguard. Boros Blount and Meryn Trant at least had enough skill to be discreet when the queen asked for it.
They stood in one of Winterfell's old storerooms. It was out of sight and tucked into a corner but its walls were thick layers of granite brick and the door was made of equal amounts of wood and metal reinforcement. There were guards posted in the halls and rooms around the obscured room but the two knights only needed a few moments to see what really was inside the boxes.
"It's a moving corpse alright," Blount grunted, shoving the struggling cadaver back down into the box.
"And the weapon is real also." Trant raised his dagger, now missing a since-shattered blade.
"The Beast was correct."
"..."
"Trant?"
Meryn stared at the spear and did not once look away from it..
"..."
"....Trant?"
"..."
"Trant!"
"W-what?" Meryn blinked and then winced.
The Kingsguard stared at his hand and saw he had cut his finger with a drop of blood even staining the White Walker spear with a red dot.
"Idiot." Boros snarled, "You fucking cut yourself."
"It's a scratch." Meryn hissed, "Nothing else-"
"-Are you done yet?"
The Kingsguard reached for their swords, whipping behind only to see empty-air.
"Look down."
"Imp!" Blount snarled.
"Lord Tyrion." Tyrion corrected.
"How did you get past the guards!?"
"I am very short and not taken seriously." Tyrion crossed his arms, "and I wonder how and why you two good knights of the Kingsguard are where they do not belong."
"Fuck off Imp. This is Royal Business."
"My dear sister's maybe but not The Crown's. I COULD ask the King about what two of his trusted protectors are doing sneaking around Winterfell while under Guest Rights…. Or we could all just get shit-faced drunk on my coin. "
"We have proof." Trant pointed out, "That should be enough for the queen."
"Good. Then put everything away before the Starks find Lannisters where they don't belong."
"Aye Imp." Blount grumbled, "You do it Trant."
"Boros-" Meryn scowled.
"Just get it done with." Tyrion rolled his eyes, "We do not pay you for nothing"
A Kingsguard and a Lannister left the room and Ser Trant followed minutes after. He didn't notice that he didn't put the Wight back in chains or that he put the Other spear in the same box as the undead revenant. He didn't notice and didn't care as he closed the door behind him. The sound of the thrashing and screaming Wight seemed louder to Trant than he remembered but the Kingsguard shrugged. He doubted anything terrible would happen.
I woke up to the sound of horns. My head snapped up to dozens of horns of alarm and the sound of screaming in Winterfell's directions. No... By The Allspark no….
Without a word being said we rushed back to Winterfell. And just outside of Winter Town I could see people running in panic and soldiers of all the different Houses rushing into the castle.
"I have …. regrets …"
"Regret later!" Val shouted, "You have to stop it! Whatever the fuck that is!"
I looked at my grenade launcher. Too risky. My weapons were in no way subtle or discrete. Hand-to-hand it was and I chose to take a more optimal form.
*TSCHE-CHU-CHU-CHU-TSCHE*
Not many people knew I could transform. Most only knew I was a shapeshifter. Thankfully when I assumed robot mode they didn't panic, instead, it was a surprise, shock, maybe even a little awe.
"Get out of here!!" I shout, "GO!"
They ran except the guards stayed and stared.
"S-ser Scorch!" One of the Baratheon guards stammered, "w-what do we do!?"
Suddenly I could hear the loudest, most inhuman screech possible and something climbing over the wall. It hit the earth, covered in blood and arrows, and looked up at me with two glowing purple eyes.
"...run…"
That … was the Wight that I hauled to Winterfell. Once. Now it was something worse. Lanky, emaciated, and with long sets of claws and teeth. It was thin but now nearly as tall as me. The closest I could describe it as a Wendigo. Except this one had a lot more Dark Energon jutting out its spine. In fact, it looked like the crystal was growing and assimilating it. Then it spoke.
"SpAwN oF pRiMuS…."
"RUN!"
They couldn't stop him. Only I could. I ran at it, claws ready to tear it limb from limb. It was going to try to do the same to me.
A/N: That took longer than I'd like. With how the pace is I'm thinking maybe I should shorten the chapters to my usual 1-2k words. Would you guys prefer longer chapters or shorter ones?
P.S. Next world is long off but I would like to know: Stargate or NuBSG?
