ThanksSansa and Catelyn woke soon enough. Hermione already started descending the carpet. She has a feeling they have crossed over Robb's camp to come here, but there's naught to be done at the moment. Magic is willful that way, ward stones even
more so.

"This is OldStones." Catelyn said with surprise.

"Oh? Do you know this place?" Hermione said conversationally as they slowly floated down.

"It belonged to the house of Mudd, who ruled over vale, Riverlands, crownlands and part of the storm lands once upon a time. They fell when Andals invaded westeros. The castle has fallen to ruin since then." she told Hermione.

They landed with a smooth motion on the ground. They all got up before Sandor wiggled helplessly on the carpet. Hermione for moment thought of leaving him like that. After all, even with all her magic, he is too much of a threat to leave in their back.
Then she looked at Sansa, who was looking at him guiltily. She sighed in her head and released him from the sticking charm. He got to his feet after some struggle.

She transformed a nearby rock in to cart when every one's attention is else where, placed the weirwood block in to it. As soon as her hands touched the handle, she felt the pull from other side. The pull eventually led them to a circular stone dias, which
had a dead weirwood tree in the middle with out leaves. It had a hole exact same shape of the root block she has.

As soon as she placed the root in to the tree, she knew some thing shifted. There's magic in the air, some thing as subtle as a breeze, but it's there all the same. While she is not Harry, who had danger senses as fine as antenna's, she did have some
instinct. All of those instincts are going hay wire right now.

Hermione slowly backed away from the tree. She looked to the side to see Brienne is already onguard and Catelyn and Sansa are backing away too. They only had a moment's notice.

"Run" Hermione screamed as she started running away, but the dead tree responded with an alacrity that should have been impossible for some thing dead or wood. They were all caught with in it's branches. Brienne is squished in the hold of trees along
with her sword which nicked her on shoulder.

Blood seeped generously from her wound, but not a single drop fell on the ground. Hermione noted with muted horror that the tree is absorbing all the blood that's flowing from Brienne. She fell lank against the tree branches. If this tree is any thing
like devils snare, it will probably let her go. While the constricting stopped, the tree did not release her. That is enough for Hermione to get her wand hand out.

She threw a cutting curse at branch holding her. All it did is a small scratch against the tree, which is already starting to close up. She would have cast a more powerful curse at the tree had Sandor not screamed at the same time. Blood dripped down
from his shoulder, a cutting mark exactly same as the one Hermione cast on tree branch.

All determination seeped out of her as she looked at the blood flowing in rivulets along the lines of the branch and disappearing with out trace some where in between. She could not hurt the tree with out hurting them selves then. Good thing she learned
counter curses from snape then.

"Vulnera sanenteur" she cast in a sweet singsong voice at Brienne.

The blood flow stopped where Brienne was being held in the branch. She's already unconscious. Hermione dearly hoped she's not already dead. She liked Brienne, and it took great fortitude to be a lady knight in these times. She healed hound next. There
are no vulnerabilities to the tree.

"Do you know of this tree? Even as tales and myths?"

Both Sansa and Catelyn shook their heads. Sansa is crying freely, while Catelyn is trying valiantly to comfort her.

"Any thing about the family who lived here? Any magical tales about them?" she asked.

"Mudds are said to be descendants of first men, hailing from houses as old as age of heroes. They warred with children of forest, who used to dwell here. First men and children of forest made peace with a pact. When the Andal invasion came, it is said
that children fled with all their magic to neck, which people say they sunk in to earth to stop Andals." Catelyn told her.

That is new information. While there have been books at Twins, almost all of them are focused more on history of westeros from the time of Aegon's landing. Hermione had a distinct feeling most of those books are pilfered rather than paid for during Lord
Frey's foray in to kindslanding.

"Accio pact" she tried. Nothing happened.

"Revelio pact" she tried again. Nothing happened.

Both Sansa and Catelyn are staring at her, hound smirked at her as if he had known she will fail.

"May be we should do as people do in age of Heroes." Sansa said suddenly.

"What is that?" Hermione said a bit irritated.

"Some one will ask who comes before old gods, Then you answer with your name, title and task." It is Catelyn who answered her.

"Okay. Let's do this." Hermione stated. Well, magic is mental most of the times, older it is, more mental it is.

"Who comes before old gods?"

"I, Hermione Stark, Queen of North, Trident and Riverlands come before old gods to see pact made between children and first men." Hermione answered.

Nothing happened.

They waited some more.

Nothing happened.

"It did not wo.." Hermione stopped what she was about to say as the branch holding her shifted with a creak.

They all turned towards the sound. There is a hole forming in side the tree. The hole slowly grew in size, as the branches of the tree shifted aside laboriously.

They all gasped collectively when the first gnarly hand struck out from the hole. Who ever that skeletal hand belonged to is extremely slow, and impossibly old. Sandor cleagane renewed his futile efforts to get away from the branch. Hermione is tempted
to stupefy him, but he would serve as a nice distraction in case they would really need to fight.

The being is now completely out of the hole. The only way to describe this being is old gnarly tree man. His flesh is bone white, his skin like tree bark, hair and beard made of twigs brimming with brown warts. Then he opened his mouth and spoke. Even
his voice sounded old, reedy, too high for coming from such a man.

They all stared at him even after he finished.

"He wants to know who's mudblood." Sansa said as if she is doubting her own understanding of the words.

Hermione snapped in to attention at the word. The insult, even after all these days, has the ability to bring hurt to surface. More over, she hadn't been expecting at all, thus, it hit her like a whiplash, making her eyes water for a moment.

"I don't think she has any mudd blood in her. Freys have been lords of twins only for past six hundred years. Mudds line ended thousands of years before that." Catelyn was saying.

It took Hermione a minute to understand they did not call her mudblood, but they are discussing the lineage of Mudds. Her mind swirled with a thousand thoughts at that. What ever the being may want, fact of the matter is it is her who called him. In this
world, being kings and queens seem to matter. So, she called the being to her.

"I am of the mudd blood. Can I see the pact?" she said before she can fully process what she's doing.

Sansa's features transformed in to muted horror at that, while Catelyn looked alarmed.

"Your grace, No. You are the queen. Please, we do not know what kind of dark sorcery this is." she pleaded.

"Let the witch take care of it little bird. It is her fault we are here." Sandor groused.

"Ser!" Sansa gasped at him, while Catelyn admonished him to address queen in north properly.

The old tree man moved to the place where she put in the weirwood block. He trailed one of his gnarly fingers on the trunk. The tree melted away there, leaving a hole with a vellum paper on it.

He brought the vellum paper to Hermione. The branch holding her shifted enough to free her hands, but not enough to let her do as she wanted. She could feel the press of ambient magic as the tree man came near her.

Her face paled as she read what's the paper. It's a combination of runes and old english, but essence of it is Mudds as the kings of the lands granted children right to live on their land. At the same time, they limited the number of children of forest
that can be born to number of Mudd children born. Simply put, if the Mudds died, so will the children, eventually. Worse yet, it's not bound to blood, but to name, thus if the Mudd name perished, they would have eventually eradicated a race by simple
stupidity.

It is a testament to how stress full her past life has been that the first thought in her head is if this is where the origin of word mud blood is. Her second is if that is so, she hasn't been feeling insulted enough.

"We can amend this." She told the old creature.

She could feel the hostility in the air at her words.

"Children can be born any time they wish, they are as much part of this land as people are." Hermione told.

For a moment, it is as if every thing stood still. Even the time. Then Hermione felt indignant. Is it so outrageous? Gods, she is glad the stupid people who ruled here all died.

Then the creature raised the vellum page to her reverently. A bone white thorn grew on the branch nearest to her right hand. Hermione pricked her thumb on the thorn, pressed it in to place on the vellum paper. She could feel the change immediately. It's
as if a subtle shock wave went through the land.

The ravens taken a flight in to the air all through the south. Wolves howled, lions roared, horses neighed. It's mayhem for a moment then it all passed. None felt it more keenly than Starks. Robb stumbled for a moment, Arya slipped on a stair , Sansa
gasped in surprise at the feeling. Even Catelyn felt some thing change, though not as keenly as her children.

The weirwood branches all lowered them to the ground, but did not let go. The old man grunted out some thing. How ever, this time Hermione understood him. He wanted a payment for all the lives lost on children's side. Hermione answered back with out Sansa
explaining to her what he meant.

"Let bygones be bygones. One can not make peace if we were to rehash past." Hermione answered.

The creature shook his head. No.

"What does he want?" Sansa asked curiously.

Hermione explained.

"We can give up hound." Lady Stark answered.

Sansa glared at her mother, though she did not say any thing.

"No. It must be Mudd's descendants."Hermione answered.

"You mean Sansa or I." Lady Catelyn intoned slowly.

Hermione nodded heavily.

"Can you not defeat him ?" she asked next.

Hermione shook her head no. In time, she probably can. At the moment, she rather lacked information.

Catelyn sighed. Hermione assumed she made the decision.

"No. You can not mother. Please, I only now got you back." Sansa pleaded with her.

Hermione is conflicted. She assumed that children of the forest are a peaceful bunch just because they are tree people. Perhaps, there's a reason Mudds did what they did. It is at the time the heavy foot steps echoed in the garden. They all turned towards
the sound, save for the child.

It's the tristifer Mudd's statue. Some where enroute, the stone cracked. He is all cracked stone on bones. The statue approached Catelyn laboriously. They all waited with bated breath, Hermione kept her wand at the ready to cast a protego. He removed
the stone crown on his head equally laboriously and placed it on Catelyn's head. The faceless man's eyes and Catelyn's met for a moment, it is as if the meaning is delivered on the other side even with out any words.

"I understand." Catelyn almost whispered in to the wind.

As soon as she said those words, the Statue of the king turned in to dust. Sansa stared aghast as comprehension dawned on her there's no out for her mother now. Her tears started falling as silently as ever. In a strange manner, Hermione knew that old
tree man is thinking how sweet Catelyn's blood will be. Hermione glared at the tree creature. She knew their exchange is not finished yet.

"You will not harm her or my family. In fact, your entire race will be bound by my will and conscience till end of time. This you will agree to, or I will see your entire race burn." Hermione hissed at the creature.

Hermione will only comprehend the true repercussions of what she has done later. For now, she has a contract to sign. She had not noticed it at all, but some time during when she is getting angry, wind picked up only around her, her magic roiled around
her scaring the wits out of the other two witnesses.

The old man nodded.

This time, Hermione picked her wand and drew a line across her hand. An angry red line welled across her hand. Hermione made a fist to make sure her entire hand is wet with blood before pressing on vellum paper with force. The white bone of tray now held
a dark red imprint on it, like a grasping hand. Her damage healed with out any magical spells. The old creature nodded at her respectfully.

She wondered if healing is one of the gifts given by children of the forest. Either way, the tree man walked to Catelyn, tapped the stone crown on her head. The stone fell away like dust revealing a weirwood crown. The old creature led Catelyn in to the
tree hole. They were all released from the hold of white tree. It reverted back to it's previous shape, looking for all the world like a harmless dead white tree.

Hermione rushed to Brienne. She fed her blood replenishing potion, checked all her injuries. Sansa is staring at the hole in the tree where her mother disappeared to listlessly. Sandor cleagane slumped on the ground as if he has run a marathon, watching
Sansa and Hermione alternatively.

"We will make a camp here for the day." Hermione announced.

Sansa startled at her voice, she joined helping Brienne along with Hermione. Sandor snapped to attention at her words as if he has been sleeping. Either way, Hermione set up their tents and wards. There is a tense silence in the camp, as they waited for
Brienne to become conscious. They were all trying to make sense of what happened in their own way. It is Hermione who spoke first.

"Sandor Cleagane, What do you want as payment for staying here and protecting princess Sansa and Lady Stark?" she asked with out preamble.

Sandor Cleagane stayed silent for a while, staring at the tent's walls.

"I want all my belongings brought here. Including my horse." he answered, as if he expected Hermione to say no right away.

"Agreed." Hermione answered, pulling a standard protection detail contract from her bag.

"put your blood here." She said, poking his finger with a needle. Sandor looked like he wanted to say no, but at the end of it all, he pressed his thumb on the paper any way.

Hermione removed bindings on him and returned his sword to him. She gestured him to follow her outside. She looked at a place that's flat enough, then recited her advanced summoning spell on the area.

"Stay here. Your belongings will be here some time." Hermione told him, returning to the tent. Sandor would have looked at her as if she has gone mad, but after all the things he has seen past two days, he is desensitized to strange happenings.

Hermione returned after refreshing her self. She has taken her sweet time doing it. She is incensed to realize how badly Sansa has been brutalized. Even so, Hermione realized loss of her mother is weighing more on her. She tried telling Sansa her mother
is not dead, merely bound to this place. It did not work, for Hermione her self is not sure how that worked, though she knew it is so the same way she had known what the old tree man wanted from her.

Eventually, color returned to Brienne's face, though she did not wake. Noting she is just sleeping, Hermione and Sansa ventured outside.

They both walked aimlessly in the ruins, noting the wild flowers till they came across the pitch black horse.

"Stranger!" Sansa exclaimed.

"that's a surprisingly good name." Hermione commented.

Surprising both of them, the horse looked up at it's name being called. Hermione stared levelly at the horse, while Sansa shrunk back. The horse puffed at them as if disregarding their presence and went right back to eating. They continued walking, coming
across Sandor Cleagane who's currently holding a cask with all the gentleness of a mother. Sansa smiled at the bizarre sight. He startled upon noticing them.

"Witch! Fix this. " he called with the urgency of a father who's child is injured.

"If you agree to share." Hermione told him. He nodded desperately.

Hermione repaired the wine keg. She had no need for the wine, but it wouldn't do to give out freebies.

"She is queen in the north. You should address her with her title." Sansa told him indignantly.

"Aye, princess" Hound replied back sarcastically, turning back to his stuff.

"I have a task for you, Sandor. Do a perimeter check, ten miles wide. Mark any trees that need to be removed for an unobstructed view of the area with red, all that will be useful to rebuilding with blue."

She told him, handing him two paint pouches.

"I am not a mason. Your grace." He added the title belatedly after realizing Hermione perhaps has the power to turn him in to a real dog or worse.

Hermione smiled sweetly at him.

"Now." she added.

Sandor left with out further resistance. After looking at Sansa's bruises Hermione determined it's too early for the girl to come out in society on the north's side. The army is no place for an abused girl, plus, she is sure return of Sansa is going to
spark a war of marriage proposals. Best to leave her here, secure the entire area with wards.

"Why do we need trees to build?" Sansa asked.

"Because we are going to build a manor here, Princess." Hermione answered back.

"But we have no men to do the work." Sansa said.

"We have some thing better, Sansa. We have children and I." Hermione answered.

"Can you really build a manor all by your self?" Sansa asked wondrously.

If any thing, Hermione is over educated from all the re-building they did at Hogwarts. If there's one thing she knew like back of her hand and more, it's transfiguration and building is all about transfiguration.

"Yes. Now, how do you feel about doing lay out for the manor?" She prompted Sansa, who launched in to an overly romantic description of winter-fell. Hermione knew with in first sentence, for that is the exact same way Robb described the castle, though
he hadn't been as flowery with his language.