Radical - Chapter Two
Hello again. It's Red. I'd like to point out that I am unlike the GRRM and the writes of GoT in that I do believe in karma, and that characters should be allowed to use logic. Thus, a bias may be apparent in this Fic. I never was a fan of Sansa, or Theon. Among others.
Narration
"Dialogue"
High Valyrian
Authors Note
POV - Character of scene
POV - Lauren
After several minutes of being dragged through the halls of the Red Keep, the guard stopped at a door.
"Go in there. Tell him what you know. And be polite. The Spider is as deadly as he is knowing. He'll know if you lie, and he'll punish you for it." He let go of my arm, and opened the door. When I stepped inside, he closed it, and I didn't hear footsteps, signaling that he was still outside.
I examined the room. Call him lazy all you want, but the moron that sent me here at least had the decency to make this... Dream? Illusion? This... Whatever this is, is accurate.
It was a four walled room, and the floor, walls, and ceiling were all made from stone, likely granite. There was a single master bed the wall with the head on the wall left of the door, with a wooden chest at the end, which I think was made from oak. Either way, it was masterfully carved. The bed faced a balcony, and had what must have been extremely expensive sheets, given the technology of this... Whatever this is. I'll call it a Fantasy for now.
And by the balcony, was a man. Well, he was actually a eunuch. A male without... Male parts. Severed parts anyway. I faintly remember what he told Tyrion about how he lost his bits. The Spider was leaning over the balcony, with his back to me. All too easy to push over.
But no. I will need someone to trust, or at least use, until I have my own reputation here. And of my few choices, he is the most trustworthy. I definitely remember he wants Dany on the throne. If I were to pose as a Targarean sympathizer, it would gain me trust.
Wait, he doesn't want Dany. He wants her brother, who's still alive. Oh well. I'll just wait.
The bald eunuch finally turned his head, and said, "Hello sweetling." I cringed. I'm no ones sweetling. "I heard you're new around here. What brings you to this dreadful place?" He still had his back to me, but the tilt of his head showed he was paying attention to me.
I resisted sighing. I needed to show I had control of myself, and control of my future. "I'm in this room because your man dragged me here against my will. I'm in this city because of an idiot boy who doesn't quite realize that what he thinks is fun isn't fun for everyone else."
"Oh?" He asked. "Care to elaborate?"
I looked around the room for weapons. There wasn't anything here except for a table just a bit too big for me to use. "I doubt you'd believe me." I said. With any luck, he'd further interrogate me in this subject. I knew quite a bit on interrogation. If I showed resistance, he'll think I want to hide something. So I need resist on something I don't care if knows to distract him from what I don't want him to know.
"Try me." He said, almost bored.
He wasn't using many words. Not good. He was thinking, not talking. It's never good when people think. Perhaps a distraction. "A boy used magic to send me, and perhaps some of my friends, into this world. I landed in here." I think he flinched when I said 'magic'. Cringed, at the very least.
He was silent for a moment. "Magic, you say?"
I shrugged. I wasn't a fan of shrugging, bad posture, but it did go far for people to see that you were casual about something. "I can't explain it. And he never was good with science."
The Spider hummed. "And you claim your friends were also sent here?"
I curled my toes. I might have said too much. But I need him as an ally, and not telling the truth to allies is not a good way to keep allies. Secrets will always be revealed, and allies don't like it when you keep secrets from them. Best tell him the truth then. Not like there was anyone else in the castle that is good enough for me. Everyone else would betray me, but I think the Spider would remain loyal to me if he thought I was fighting with him. "I don't know for sure. We were at a party, he made us chant some ridiculous hymn, and I left. I went home, fell asleep, and woke up here. I haven't seen any of my friends. For all I know, they might be in a different world. Or still in theirs."
He remained silent for another moment. I think I was silent for just a second too long. "And how do I know you're not mad?"
Well. It was time for my TV addiction to pay off. "I know this world quite well. You're the Spider, who listens to every bird sing secrets, and you tell some secrets to everyone."
He waved a hand. "Everyone knows that. I'm the most famous secret keeper of own generation."
I blinked. Doesn't he know it's rude to interrupt someone? "But how many know how you became a eunuch?"
That caused him to turn around fully, and finally face me. "I very much doubt you know that. It's not very well known."
I put on my best smile. "But I know. I know that, and so much more."
He took a deep breath. "Prove it. Tell me my own story."
My smile slowly turned into a smirk. "You were just a boy. In a circus, if I recall. A strange man came, and offered a price for your head. Your circus master agreed, and you were sold. And you feared him, but you went. He gave you potion, and you couldn't move, but you could still feel. He cut off your bits, and threw them into a fire. He spoke, and the fire spoke back." I paused. His knuckles were gripping the railing, very white. I was right. "And it wasn't the man you fear. It wasn't the pain. It was the voice of the fire you fear."
"Stop." He interrupted. "I believe you. What do you want from this world, demon girl?"
I threw on a look of hurt. "I am no demon girl. I have never used magic, only had magic used on me. I wish to find a way to return home, or bar that, live a happy life here." It was the truth. I planned to rule my own world. But ruling this world would also make me happy.
"And just how do you plan to do that?" He asked. He wasn't as tense as he was before I said I did t use magic. Good.
"There are two children across the sea. I would see one of them on the Iron Throne." A part truth. If they came to Westeros, they would bring chaos with them. And I just happened to thrive in the middle of chaos. And emerge on top when everything went according to plan.
"And what is your name, girl? And the name of your magician friend?"
I stood just a bit straighter. "My name is Lauren Depp. As for my friend..." I frowned.
He looked disappointed. "Why do you not speak his name? Are you scared of him?"
I... How can this be? "I do. It fear him. But... I can't remember his name!"
The Spider frowned. "Another of his spells, perhaps. Call him the Magician, simply for him to have a name."
I nodded. "Now. Tell me your plans, and I'll tell you mine." Part of them anyway.
POV - Emma
I am eating dinner with people from the Dark Age. Yep. A wooden table that could seat at least a dozen, but currently only had eleven, was my current place of confusion. I sat at the foot of the table.
At least they seemed nice. Mostly. The Starks, who were apparently lords of this region, or so they claimed, we're taking care of me.
The head was Ned, who was very stern, but clearly show his soft side to his family. He was oldish, I think maybe in his fifties. His hair was just starting to gray, and he carried that monster of a sword he called Ice with him everywhere. He seemed very honorable, and I immediately trusted him. He was of course, sitting at the head of the table.
Then there was his wife Catelyn, who told me to call her Cat. I think she liked me. She was around Ned's age, but must have been a beauty when she was younger. She was slightly less stern than her husband, and more inclined to show a soft side. Which she did to me. Because I'm super friendly and everyone loves me. She sat on her husbands left.
His oldest son was Robb, who seemed nice enough, and certainly cute enough, even if I didn't think he was particularly bright. He was charming, yes, but I've seen people like him. They feel, and don't think their actions through, getting through life by being just charming and lucky enough to get what they want. He was seated at his fathers right.
Next to Robb sat Theon, who was the most sexist, weasliest, awful person I've had the displeasure of meeting so far. He has made no less than three attempts at flirting with me, each turned down more rude than the last.
Luckily, Jon, who sat between Theon and I, had put a strong hand on Theons shoulder, and gave him a look. The kind of look that said, 'Leave her alone, or I won't leave you alone.' Very kind of him. Or maybe noble? Well, it made him my favorite male here so far. Ned was nice, but I still didn't know him well.
On Cats right, sat the eldest daughter, Sansa, who seemed to be physically a teenager, but no one had told her that fairy tales and princes don't exist. She seemed convinced that she'll marry a beautiful amazing knight and will live happily ever after. Poor girl. I pitied her.
Next to her, sat Arya. She was a wild spirit, and I wasn't sure how I felt about her. She was honest, brave, but also careless about how her words and actions impacted others.
Next to her sat her brothers Bran and Rickon, who were both too young to actually have Amy true characteristic. They were just boys, excited over any little thing, like a new person, or they're puppies.
And I still didn't know why Ned thought it was a good idea to give everyone these dogs. From what I understand, they're not normal dogs, these ones can grow large enough to be ridden into battle.
The meal was actually very good for medieval times, likely benefits of being nobles. They had roast duck, which was very good, and some vegetables, which were more healthy than tasty, but I figured I should eat them all to set a good example for the younger children. Everyone was almost done eating, and I think Ned and Cat had something to announce.
But I wouldn't press, I'll just keep talking to Rickon and trying to get Jon to say more than four words at a time until they feel like they're ready.
I asked Jon what his favorite type of sword was, and his eyes lit up just a bit. And just as his mouth opened to say what I was sure would be at least ten words, Ned interrupted him.
"Alright, I have an announcement to make." Everyone quieted down, and looked to the 'Warden of the North'. "The Hand of the King, Robyn Arreny is dead. The King is riding to Winterfell, and is likely to ask me to replace Robyn as Hand."
Sansa objected, Robb stayed silent even as Theon congratulated Ned on this opportunity, and Bran and Rickon looked just slightly less clueless than I did.
I turned to Jon, and whispered, "What does any of this mean?"
Jon turned to me, and I felt odd when his purple eyes bored into me. "First of all, you should know that Robyn was a mentor to my lord father, which is why he's giving Theon a bad look for being happy. The Hand serves as the second in command to the King, and the King, Robert Baratheon, has a... Poor reputation. The previous Hand did most of the ruling, while the King mostly just drank himself asleep with whores in his bed, and woke up to sign whatever the Hand told him to. If my lord father accepts, which he will because they are friends from previous wars, it will take him away from Winterfell, and his family, just to do what the King does while getting none of the respect."
"Oh." That was sad. Ned would have to leave everything he knew, just because this 'Robert' was too lazy to do it himself! "Would he be allowed to take anyone with him?"
Jon nodded. "Technically, yes. Ned could take whomever he chooses. He'd be the Hand after all. The second most powerful person in Westeros. But there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. So some of us would have to stay. Probably his wife, to manage the Bran and Rickon, who are too young for the capital. Robb would stay, as the heir to Winterfell. I don't know what Sansa and Arya will do."
"Would you go?" I asked.
Jon cringed, and I felt bad. Must have something to do with this nonsense about being a bastard. "Regardless of whether I wanted to or not, I should not. People would whisper things, and weaken my fathers position as Hand. I would not do that to him."
"Sorry." I frowned. I really need to figure out how to not make him feel bad about being born a bastard. It's not his fault after all. Ned was talking to Robb and Theon, Cat was talking to Sansa and Arya, while Bran talked at Rickon. I turned to the only silent person, and asked, "So then you're just going to stay here in Winterfell? It seems kind of drabby here, no offense."
Jon shrugged. "I might." He paused, but I kept staring at him until he continued, "I've always wanted to go take the Black, and guard the Wall."
"The Wall?" I asked. "What's that?" Couldn't be the Great Wall of China, we were speaking English.
He raised an eyebrow at me. "You've never heard of the Wall? Well, suppose that fits. The Wall is a seven hundred foot wall of ice, designed thousands of years ago by Bran the Builder, to protect us from the Wildlings. Or the Others, but they're just stories."
That raised more questions than it answered. But I may as well just keep asking questions. "So what do you do at the Wall?"
"Guard the realm." Jon said. And stabbed the last bits of his meal with his fork.
"What does that even mean?" I asked. Seriously. There couldn't be a more vague answer if he tried. Which meant he was trying to give a vague answer. Which meant he didn't know what it meant. Oops.
"Well, it means protecting the wall from the Wildlings. Sometimes they get what they call a King Beyond the Wall, who rallies them to attack the wall. They've never succeeded, the Starks usually send enough men to fight them off, but the Wall is weaker than it's ever been."
Ok. I don't know what any of this means. But I don't want Jon to go, he's the only decent guy my age here! Also, he's way too young to fight. "Well you can't join now, you're too young."
That earned me a sharp glare. Apparently this was a sore spot. "I'm not too young." He almost spat out the last two words, but apparently he was too polite for that.
"Well at least don't leave me alone just yet." I squeezed his arm. People liked physical contact. "I like you more than anyone else, and it would be rude to leave a young lady such as myself alone and unguarded in a land she doesn't know."
He snorted. But I could tell he was thinking. Probably that waiting a year or two wouldn't be awful. Maybe give him some more time to train. Learn history. Or something. I don't know him that well. Yet.
POV - Amaury
Things have somehow gotten better, and worse.
I was now fed, not thirsty, and with other people. Much better than wandering a desert alone and without any food.
However, I did not understand the language of the people I am with.
Of course, having someone put a collar you can't get off doesn't require verbal communication. I'm pretty sure I'm a slave of some sort at the moment.
I was being led through what was some sort of festival, where people were drinking, laughing, and fucking in the open. Already, I had my suspicion of what was going on. I recognized these people, even if I didn't know they're language.
I was in the Game of Thrones universe. But that was impossible. But here I am.
As I was looking at a curvaceous and topless woman dance, I failed to realize we had stopped. I looked up, and was further driven to the conclusion that everything that was impossible had already happened.
The Dothraki man handed a whip to a woman. With silver hair. And purple eyes. Next to a far too large man who had numerous scars and tattoos. This would not end well.
This is Danyerys Targeans wedding. And I'm a gift to her. As a slave. Joy.
Well, I suppose if I had to be thrown into a TV show, I should thank the stars that I'm near the hottest, sluttiest character that had ever walked the set. That she was mother of dragons helped a great deal.
"I don't suppose any of you speak this language, do you?" I asked. It would certainly be nice. They spoke English on the show, but maybe it switched or something here.
"You speak the common tongue?" Khalesei asked. "Impressive. Do you speak any other languages?"
"Je parle aussi le Fraçais et L'Anglais. Yo también hallo Francés e Ingles." I explained.
She smiled, and raised an eyebrow. "That is most impressive, that you know both High Valerian and the language of the Asshai. But why do you not call them by their true names?"
I shrugged. "That's just what my people have called them." I explained.
She leaned forward, and I shrank. Those purple eyes, no matter how young, were unnerving. "And where do you come from? You do not look like any I have ever seen."
I gave my best smile, but I think it still revealed how nervous I was. I brushed some hair out of my face, and ignored the noise of everyone in the background. "I don't think you'd have heard of it. A small island, far away, of no real importance." To this world, anyway.
She hummed, and leaned back. "Very well. Grab a chair and sit with me. I could use some company."
I found a chair, and sat behind her. Trying my best to look like I knew what I was doing.
"So tell me of your land, that is so far away and mysterious." She said.
The wedding was clearly not interesting her, and it was nice to know she could look to me. Although it was odd, since we had just met. Still, she asked for a story. Best give her a good one.
"It is far, far away from here. I'm not entirely sure how I got here, to be honest. But I am glad I did, now I may have the pleasure of your company." She gave me a look, and I made a mental note to limit flirting to a minimum. "I came from a place of many islands, and I went from one to another. I was born on the island of France, but moved to the island of the Unites States when I was a child."
She smiled, relaxing. "I also moved as a young child. Good to know we have some similarities."
I smiled, happy that I was on the good side of a woman I knew fed people she didn't like to dragons. "Which would you like to hear of first, France or the US? Of course, I know many others as well."
She hummed for a moment. "Tell me the names of all the islands you know. I assume there were more than just two?"
I nodded. "Indeed. There are six main islands, with some smaller ones around. Many nations exist on each of these islands, warring and developing with and against each other. The islands are North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Africa, and Australia. France is on Europe, and the U.S. is on North America."
The Khalesei hummed. "And which of these nations is the best?"
I laughed lightly. "They all think they're the best. But in truth, they all have distinct advantages. Some are smarter, some are stronger, others more clever, more inventive. The reason there are so many is because none are so great as to conquer the others. And they have tried."
She smirked. "Has anyone come close?"
"Yes, very many. But all fail, just as they are about to succeed. Some are known as villains, other heroes, other still simply morally neutral conquers."
"And whom is your favorite, Amaury?"
I paused. "I'm sorry, how do you know my name?" I asked.
She dismissively waved a hand. "The man who gave you to me told me your name. Your favorite conquer, if you please."
I huffed, which amused her. "I would say Napoleon. But Napoleon is French, so I may have some bias."
She laughed, and as she was about to ask more, a man interrupted her. I recognized the scene. He gave her dragons eggs, and she quickly forgot about me. Not that I could blame her, she was given dragon eggs after all.
POV - Matt
Today was a good day. Much better than the last. I had a good meal, a warm bed.
Now I needed to find a way to get home. Mom was probably worried sick. Dad should be fine, if I can get back soon enough.
Make a plan, see it through. First, let's get to know the area.
The servant who showed me around was very kind, and explained many details of the castle I didn't know the purpose of in a patient way. He was a bit smaller than I, and was very basic looking. I forgot his face as soon as it left my sight.
Breakfast was delicious, if not simple. Soup and bread, with some apple juice.
Then, the Lady Melisandre explained to me the situation.
The Lord of this castle was away to see to a funeral. She was in charge. I would become a personal guard to the Lord, who's name was Stannis Baratheon, because she saw a vision in the flames. Whatever that meant. But I'd work on that later. In the meantime, I would be going to get custom armor, and get to know the residents of the castle, starting with the Lord's daughter.
I asked her what she thought of how I got here, and she asked me to better detail how I arrived, and the events leading up to my arrival. Apparently her flames gave her vague warning that allowed her to act, but not unnecessary details like how will happen, only that it will happen.
And so I told her of my not-at-all-adventurous tale, and she told me she would look into it while I was fitted for armor.
I trusted that she would keep her word. She fed me, housed me, and now was giving me a job. I would think of this as charity, which I dislike on principle, but a combination of necessity, not desperation, and her seeming to do this because of her flame visions, not the goodness of her heart.
Which made it all the more maddening, but I rolled with it.
I went to the armory, who told me to go to the tailor. I did, and I met the LOrd's daughter, Shireen, there.
She was very nice, and polite, even if she was scarred from some disease only in this world. She was tailored for some new night robes while I was fitted for everything I might need. Shireen was kind enough to stay with me even after she was done, so that I wouldn't be left with the man flourishing around me far faster than any man had a right to move, and taking measurements of ridiculous things like my pinky finger length and eyebrow length.
But I indulged the man, if only for Shireen and Lady Melisandre. They said I should just roll with it, and so I did. Well, they didn't say roll with it specifically, simply because they were ladies, but I knew what they meant.
And then the questions started. What was my favorite color? How did I prefer my armor, light, medium, or heavy? Chain mail or plate? What style should my helmet be? Will I be commissioning a weapon here as well as armor?
Shireen was a bigger help than I anticipated for a girl her young age to be, but I was grateful for it. She apparently knew what her father would want for my armor.
I ended up with armor colored red, gold, and black, the Baratheon colors, heavy armor with both chainmail and plates, a Southern style helmet, and a custom longsword. Of course, I would have to wait for them to be made, but the man assured me that they would be done within a fortnight, sooner if I don't mind the color, which Shireen certainly did. So a fortnight it was.
POV - Vannessa
So apparently I'm going to live in a castle, for as long as the little boy says I can.
Not fantastic. Not ideal.
But I am surviving.
All I need to do is survive until I can figure a way out, or someone rescues me.
Someone will probably rescue me. If the fool who I think sent me here actually did, then six others came to this place with me.
And they all like me.
Well, except for Matt, there's a very strong chance he won't be the first in line to save me, but he'd rescue me anyway because he has to if he wants to say he's a nice guy. And he REALLY wants to say he's a nice guy.
I sighed.
I wonder who'll save me. Emma definitely would, but I'm not sure she could. She's not very adaptable. Lauren might, if she thinks it's in her best interest. So probably not. I already know Matt will. Ebby would, he's cool. And as for the idiot...
Wait, why can't I remember his name?
Whatever. That doesn't matter, I know his face. He'll save me if he gets the chance, I'm sure of it.
I just need to hold out a little longer. Then I can go home.
POV - Ebby
The Free Folk are strange folk. They have no real laws, no real system of government.
I think what they do is just... The strongest guy does what he wants, and everyone follows, or someone challenges, then they fight, until one dies or submits. Then they do what the victor said, no matter how stupid.
Which was quite barbaric, but easily fixed.
They respected strength, did they? Well, I can give them strength, if I can get my hands on a good longsword. That'd be the tricky part.
If I could, I'd have to challenge Tormund, and win in a fight. I've seen him fight a 'crow'. Basically, his style is to scream, unnerve his opponents, and smash.
I am easily unnerved by men fighting. It's very simple. Of course, standing up in front of everyone is a whole different story, but if I ignore them for long enough, I can get the challenge out, then fight, win, and lead. Leading is easy. Just don't be stupid.
I think I'll find a river, and then find the coast. Establish a permanent camp there, using the fish and land to farm. Since everyone around here are nomads, the fish should be abundant, and the land unsoiled.
The hard part would be defending the camp.
From what I understand, other groups will try to come after mine. So I'll have to set up some defenses. Not too difficult. There was lots of forest around here, good for harvesting wood, which can be used for building walls, or spikes in the ground to slow horses, or any number of things. Even fishing ships. Hey, that's a good idea! Way to go, me!
I smiled. And there's the river. Everything was going according to plan.
POV - ?
The Land of Always Winter was very cold. But I was very good with magic, so I wasn't cold.
I encountered the Army of the Dead much sooner than I would have thought I would have.
Of course, they weren't a challenge. They were just zombies, no matter what the Others would like to call them. Just throw some fire around and they'll stay far, far away. And throwing fire around was not only something I'm extremely skilled at, it is something I take extreme pleasure in doing.
Needless to say, when the Others found me, they did not underestimate me. But they were scared of me, and my fire, which is about an equal advantage.
I stripped them of their weapons, and examined their memories.
Magic was ever so useful, but some branches were hard to find.
For instance, I know a spell that will throw myself and six others into another world of my choosing, but not one that will turn myself immortal.
Until now, of course.
Actually, that wasn't true. I still couldn't turn myself truly immortal.
The King of Ice had the dubious honor of being the only true immortal on this continent, and I must strip him of his immortality before I can claim mine.
But that'll be easy enough. From the memories I've found so far, magic is rare is in Westeros, and relatively unheard of north of the Wall. Just some wargs and greenseers. No big deal.
They weren't battle hardened warlocks like me.
But then again, who is?
That was fun. Sorry for the wait. I'm a very lazy person, and an even lazier author.
Big thanks to Vannessa (with two Ns) for Betaing this chapter. I have pet peeve for grammar and spelling mistakes, and she has a good eye for pointing out my mistakes. Also, I sometimes do stupid things, and it's good to have someone to tell me not to do the stupid things I WILL inevitably do.
