A Son of Ice and Fire
A/N: This chapter should clear a lot of things up in relation to the Fishlegs storyline for this season, I hope you enjoy. Please follow to keep up to date with the updates, and if you have any questions, please review and I'll answer them all for you :)
Guest: I have thought about adding characters from other films, like brave/frozen/ROTG, but I decided against it. I think there is already enough characters and adding more would just make it too long and not really add anything. By the time season 2 of thrones timeline is done, I'll probably be at 130-140k words and 45-50 chapters. With that only being a quarter of the way through the total story, I'd rather focus on what I've already got. Once this is done (completely) I will do stories with those other characters.
Guest: An iron born captain as the founder of House Haddock would be a great twist. However, with the house words, and the dragon sigil, I feel the house would have to have some history with the Targaryens. Maybe an Ironborn lord married a Targaryen princess, forming House Haddock in the process :)
Guest: If a lot of people keep requesting me to do short one-shots on each House's history, I may change how I plan to do it. Instead of waiting until the full story is complete, I may instead do 1 of the House's history at the end of each season of thrones. E.g. End of S3 – Haddock, end of S4 -Hofferson… This will mean the lore for all 5 houses will be complete at the end of S7, allowing me to finish S8 with all the background information complete.
Chapter 38: The man behind the mask
Fishlegs
A chilling silence hung through the air and not even the whistle of a winter wind could breach it. An engulfing fog consumed everything, choking every essence of life from the barren landscape. The veil shrouding us, heavy and rough against my bare skin, like the scraping of bony fingers against my cheek. Flakes of snow trickled down through the mist, bleaching the landscape almost completely white. Eret's figure contrasted sharply against the background, a heavy black beast emerging like a shadow through the haze. Jarring, staggered steps plodded towards me, as he fought his way through. The large rip across his cloak evident almost immediately, as well as the line of blood hardened and cracking, that trailed from beneath his sleeve down the back of his hand and along the length of his middle finger. He slumped down against a tree opposite me, the loud cracking of the bark against his back echoing in all directions. As his head dipped down, another blot of red could be seen down one side of his neck, as his hair hung down covering his eyes.
"I thought you'd be gone." He croaked out wearily.
"No, you didn't." I remarked coldly. "You tied me up here, and even if I could get free, where would I go? I have no clue where I am, how long I was asleep for, and even if I did, I couldn't survive out here alone. You know that."
"Ha. You always were the smart one." He chuckled, as he raised one hand to clutch the skin just above his left shoulder.
"You have no idea who I am. But by the looks of those wounds, you won't live to find out." I said with a slight chuckle. "I doubt Drago would be very happy that you let him down."
"You think I work for Drago?" He laughed, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling towards me and sitting a few feet from my side. I looked over to him, as he sighed heavily, before I just sat and stared out into the nothingness. "Lord Drago is just a client, to put it that way, he paid us for our service."
"Your service? What is that supposed to mean?" I asked angrily.
"Lord Drago paid us a lot of coin to give us your name." He answered with a groan, removing his hand from the wound, and wiping it against his cloak.
"My name? You don't mean…" I stuttered, closing my eyes in fear, knowing my death sentence had already been passed. "Just kill me already, isn't that what you're paid for?"
"See, I said you were the smart one." He laughed. "Believe me, if I was paid simply to kill you, you would already be dead."
"I've read about your order. You don't do this. Just silent kills in the night, and then you're gone. Why go against it, just for Drago?" I asked timidly, as Eret grunted painfully under his breath.
"The many-faced God has been promised your name. He will receive it. The only reason your blood isn't soaking into the snow is because we got paid triple to make sure Lord Drago could kill you himself." He stated blankly.
"Well, that's not terrifying at all." I shuddered. "Why couldn't he just leave me be? He's already taken everything. What did I ever do to deserve this?"
"I have no opinion on the matter. You are just one more name." He said tonelessly.
"Just one more name." I repeated slowly, looking over to see him applying some sort of paste onto his neck, as well as onto a bite mark now visible on his arm, as he rolled his sleeve up. "What happened?"
"These?" He grimaced, as he gestured to his wounds. "A wolf I think. Didn't even see it in this fog. Like it was invisible. Just the blood-red eyes. I fought it off, but I came off a lot worse." Ghost? Must have been. Gods, how long had I been out? There's no way they can find me in this. Please somehow get to me. I can't go back there. Not to Drago. Not like this. He saw me looking questioningly at the foul-smelling sludge he was laying over the wounds. "This stuff is like glue, should seal the wounds right up. Hopefully." Fascinating. If it wasn't possibly saving his life.
"Ghost knew there was something off about you. That day you came after me when I fell in that lake, you planned to take me then, didn't you?" I asked sadly. He just nodded. "Your name isn't even Eret is it, you're just a total fraud, an imposter."
"I am no-one. Eret never existed." He said boldly.
"Well, he did, and I know why you used his name." I confronted him.
"I don't know what you mean." He responded, a slight crack in his voice as he shuffled awkwardly in the snow.
"Don't give me that." I growled at him. "You used the name of my dead cousin to try to get me to trust you. Maybe if you looked anything like him it would have helped. Haven't you got a face that…"
"… Shh. Shh. Be quiet." He interrupted, reaching for his sword.
"I mean, you didn't even get the hair colour right. I don't fully know how all this changing face things happen, but you could have put some effort…" I continued.
"Shut up, Fishlegs. NOW!" He voiced strongly, eyes frantically scanning through the fog. I directed my view back from him to the distance. No sounds. No shadows. No figures through the mist. Just the same old emptiness.
"There's nothing there, just sit down." I urged. Of the two of us, I hardly thought it would be me who would be the least jumpy.
"I'm not taking any chances. I'm not letting that bastard's wolf surprise me again." He snarled scornfully, planting his blade firmly into the ground, before sitting back down next to it.
"I hope Ghost finishes you off this time." I said heartlessly. "You're nothing but an assassin for hire. No morals. No sense of hour or duty. Just a coward hiding behind a mask." And I went too far. Oh no. Within an instant, Eret's firm hand was clawed around my throat, his grip tightening.
"You know nothing about me. What I've been through. What I've suffered. You want to see what's behind the mask. You do huh?" He bellowed loudly, eyes bulging out of their sockets. I froze there, beneath the larger man's grasp, not moving an inch. "You still want to see. You still want to know. Do you?" He voiced menacingly, a snarl across his lips and with such a fire in his eyes that burned deep into my soul. I shook my head desperately, as his wrist remained locked. As he finally let go, I released a loud gasp as air once more entered my lungs. He staggered back, and began to laugh heartily, as he bent over and covered his face. With one sudden move, he shot back towards me, but this time he had a new face. A familiar face. My cousin's face…
"This better for you, Fishlegs, the face of your weak, pitiful cousin." He laughed, as he crouched down next to me. I couldn't blink. Couldn't speak. Couldn't even breathe. No. It can't be. This isn't possible. The slick, black hair. The large, protruding nose. The wide, rounded jaw. Everything was as it used to be. Like life has been breathed back into an old ghost. A knife to the gut from my past.
"You killed my cousin, you bastard!" I yelled, trying to headbutt him. I struggled to break my arms free of the restraints to strike at him, but they wouldn't budge.
"I killed your cousin?" He retorted mockingly. "Hahaha."
"I knew he didn't kill himself. It didn't make sense. You assassinated him and have single-handedly destroyed our house. Why have you done this?" I asked weakly.
"I had nothing to do with the fall of House Ingerman. NOTHING!" He yelled. "You don't understand." He added softly. With his eyes now being a more vulnerable amber, no longer the less cold and unforgiving brown, they seemed to show a sense of guilt.
"Just take it off. I can't have that. Anything but this. I am going to die anyway, don't force me to look upon that face for my final days." I admitted sorrowfully.
"Fish, look, I…" He started, before a crack of a branch in the distance silenced him. We froze there, eyes pinned in the direction of the sound. Through the blanketing mist, only the faint silhouettes of the trees could be seen. With every passing moment, my hands began to shake. More and more. I know what's out there. If it's not Ghost. If it's not a man in a black or white cloak. It can only be one thing.
"Free me, you might need my help." I pleaded. If I'm going to die, it's not going to be out here. Not without a fight. Eret gripped the hilt of his sword, spinning around, as what sounded like a whisper whistled on the wind.
"Not happening Fish. I can handle this." He stated confidently.
"I don't think you can." I mumbled under my breath. He faced me and gave me a cold glare, before he returned to scanning the fog. A few minutes of this continued, before he seemed content that whatever it was had passed and sat back down. He seemed calm, not even a drip of sweat on his brow, but I couldn't shake the feeling deep in my bones that it was not over.
"So, this cousin…" He started softly. "You two were close?" I kept my eyes forward, not wanting to even catch the sight of his face in the corner of my eye.
"Why do you care?" I yelled bitterly. "It's not like you care about anyone. Just kill them and move on. That's right isn't it. No remorse for the trail of destruction you leave behind."
"I do what my God demands. That is all." He muttered quietly.
"THEN YOUR GOD IS EVIL!" I screamed. "The world is so full of hatred and violence, but everyone has a choice. You choose to do this. No-one else."
"I don't have a choice, I have a mission." He replied with a deep sigh, his back inching lower and lower down the tree, as he laid against it.
"A mission." I tutted. "How many 'missions' have you been on?"
"Since I joined the house of black and white, seventy-two." He replied solemnly. 72 people killed. Taken before their time. For no reason other than to satisfy their God. That is sick.
"You're a monster!" I screeched, turning to face him. Yet, as that face stared back at me, I couldn't stop the tears from falling. "Eret didn't deserve to die. Take that face off now. Take it off now. TAKE IT OFF!" I shrieked, as I looked away.
"I can't…" He replied quietly. What? What do you mean you can't? No more words could be spoke, as a rhythmic rattling pierced the air. My eyes pricked open, as five grey outlines emerged through the mist.
"Free me now, or we'll both die." I yelled in panic, but he stood firm, raising his sword, as if to taunt the oncoming threat.
Closer and closer the figures came, until they had almost descended upon us. The assassin's hand was shaking, even if only slightly, as the threat launched upon us. Death. Death itself. Some, just bare skeletons, the others, decaying bodies coated with mangled flesh. Covered only with ripped cloaks of black and white, the demons plunged through the mist towards us. To his credit, the assassin didn't flee. He ran at them, striking strongly through the first. A loud crack of bone echoed around, as his sword split three ribs in half, before severing the spine of the thing completely. The body fell either side of him, into two pieces, as the lower half crashed into a tree shattering entirely. What was left of its chest and head was still somehow alive, and growling, as it clawed into the snow, dragging itself towards me. Gods help me. I shook back and forward viciously, trying everything to break free of the rope tying me to the tree. I tried to climb to my feet, to get a better stance to force my way out, but it was too tight.
As I continued to struggle, he bravely fought off the undead savages. A sharp jab of the sword plunged up through the neck of one of them, as the man's blade exploded out of the top of the wight's skull. Two more pounced on him, as they buried him deep into the thick snow. Almost fully concealed into the snow, all I could see was his hands, as he held the creatures away firmly. Their dead eyes tearing holes into my very soul, as the clattering of their teeth clashed loudly above the face of the assassin. I watched closely for a brief moment, but the prospect my own imminent death soon took priority. With the legless beast squirming its way towards me, like a demon dragging itself from the deaths of hell, the shadow of a second darted out of the fog. Running with fury, with skin peeling off as it ripped through the snow towards me, I fought harder. Even if I have to break my arm, I'm getting free of this. I am not dying and turning into one of those things. Not now. Not ever.
"ERET! HELP ME!" I yelled, as the last resort, as the creature sprinted towards me.
With my left boot, I shoved a forceful kick into the wight's chest, knocking it back slightly. It seemed to almost scream at me, before charging again. With a strong foot, I held it there, as it's bony fingers clawed at me. I shook my hands in all directions behind me, but still the rope wouldn't break. I raised my right foot to strike at the face of the undead wildling, but three sharp hooks dug into my thigh. I glanced down, meeting the dark abysses of the its eyes. With barely any body left, I hoped I could wiggle and squirm and force the thing away, but as I shook fiercely, it's hold didn't loosen. Strength draining from me, with every second, I could already feel my legs growing tired. The wight to my left was growing ever closer, its face now only a foot or two from my chest, while the one at my right was sucking every last drop of fight from my right-hand side. As my left leg finally buckled under the unrelenting pressure, I closed my eyes, waiting on the end to come, as the creature pounced upon me.
As the weight of it landed heavily on my chest, no longer was there a fight. A second later, the hold on my right leg released as well. What happened? What's going on? I opened my eyes to see, not the bare face of the creature, but instead just a neck. The gold plating of the assassin's sword somehow managed to shine, as he pulled it out of the other wight. I looked to my side, where the motionless head laid, calcified bone and rotting hair sitting still on the snow. "Free me now." I urged once more. This time he didn't hesitate, or deny the request, instead quickly rushing behind me and slicing the rope in one clean, incisive slash. He reached around the far side of the tree, picking up a sword and chucking it to me. Meatlug! Thank the Gods.
"Don't try anything." He warned, as he breathed heavily. I didn't say anything, just nodded back to him. He actually saved me. Why? Just for the money, it must be. I'm nothing but a mission after all. Yet none of those thoughts reflected the relieved look in his eyes. The sense of panic on his face when he was releasing me seemed genuine. He is still a monster. A monster wearing the face of someone important to me. A bitter chill stung in the air, like a thorn catching against your skin. The mist appeared to spin wildly around us, like a whirlpool sucking us in. All directions seemed to be cut off, the white curtain so thick even the black sky above could barely be made out. A parting cut a path through it, as a final, solitary shape strolled through. With skin of pure ice, and eyes a pure cobalt blue, it almost grinned as it ambled casually towards us. A spear of crystals in his hand, he eyed us both down. Legs frozen in fear, neither me or the assassin moved, as the mist seemed to circle us, forming a natural arena for the upcoming battle.
Although a little shaken, and still unrecovered from all his injuries, the faceless man stepped forward to meet the opponent. As the two approached each other cautiously, two wights emerged through the mist at either side. The assassin didn't take his eyes off of the figure in front of him but called to me under his breath.
"You handle them. I'll handle him." He stated determinedly.
As the man's sword clashed fiercely with the white walker's icicle-shaped blade, I turned my attention to the dead sprinting at me. Not wanting to be surrounded on all sides, I quickly rushed to meet the first two to my right. Two hands out on the sword, Meatlug plunged deep into the first. With a crackling sound, and a burning smell eradiating from its body, the wight screeched out, before collapsing into a pile of bones and broken flesh. A second firm swing shattered the elbow joint of one arm, and then a few ribs, as I swung the sword across the second re-animated corpse, splitting it into four or five separate pieces. Heavy boots trudging in the thick snow, I raced across to meet the other two that had emerged from the tree line. As I made my way, I could hear the chilling sound of the man's metal blade crunching against the ice spear. The walker was powerful, beating him back with every strong blow. "Just go. We don't have to fight. Just survive." I bellowed out to him.
"I'm no coward. I will not run." He grunted back angrily.
Reaching the wights, one final look back showed the assassin was pinned under the frozen spear, cracks foming down the very centre of his steel sword. I focused back, cutting through the two former night's watch rangers. Their black cloaks being sliced through by the valerian steel easily, as the two bodies fell. Now they can rest at last. I snapped back to the man, who was struggling heavily to maintain control of his sword under the force. I did warn him. I told him to leave. He could have been saved. It's his fault. But he did save me. But that was only so I could get killed by Drago for more money. I should help him. That's the right thing to do. But was killing Eret right? No. And he did it anyway. Taunting me with his face. No. He deserves this. He can suffer for all the pain he has caused to my family. Regretfully, I turned my back on him and slowly headed for the distance. As my steps grew larger, I heard him calling out to me.
"Fish, don't leave me here. Please. Help me." He begged. I looked back at him, as his sword shattered into a thousand pieces. He managed to dodge out of the way before the walker's spear slammed down and impaled him, but now he was defenceless. "Figsy please." Figsy? My eyes widened, as my mouth dropped open. Only one person has every called me that. Eret. It can't be. This is just another trick. Another game. "Please, cousin, I'll explain." He begged, as the walker advanced. Oh, I am so going to regret this. I plunged down the shallow hill, barreling at full force, as Eret backed up further and further. His back to a tree, and with the demon's weapon hovering above him, Eret raised his hands to shield himself. Not a moment too soon, I launched myself forward, driving Meatlug hard and fast into the back of the beast. A high pitched, ear-splitting cry roared, before it shattered apart completely, the scraps of ice blowing away in the wind. I killed a white walker. I just killed a white walker. I actually just killed a white walker. Yeahhhhhh! I just did that. I can't believe I just did that. How did I just do that? Eret removed his hand from in front of his face, panting heavily, before I pressed my sword to his neck. He shifted uncomfortably, as I stared down at him resolutely.
"You better have a good explanation, or you're next…"