That Time I Wrote Myself into an Isekai to Escape a Plague
**AN**
-since this story is basically my id running wild, I can't really tell you where it's going exactly. So I'm taking this to prepologize for the (potentially) nonexistent structure and uneven pacing.
-in hindsight Chapter should have been the epilogue and this should've been Chapter 2 but I'm jusy going to roll with it.

Chapter 2
Char flies incredibly fast through the skies above the North of Westeros. The already cold air is made to feel absolutely frigid from the wind chill but I couldn't care less. Adrenaline has got my blood flowing hot and it is simply to good a feeling to not revel in; that now I'm experiencing the thing I spent so much of my childhood dreaming of: me and Char vs the world. He's everything I remember from those day: fierce, powerful, and above all, fast.

Me: "I've missed you, boy."

He growls in mutual affection.

After some length of time a grand fortress appears on the horizon. My mind starts to kick into overdrive, there are many questions that need answering before we simply land in the courtyard and declare our intentions to save the day. If anything is true of this world, nothing is that simple and such brash action shall surely lead to disaster. I tell Char to land on what I presume to be the edge of the Wolfswood. I have to think this through.

The first question has to be, "which Westeros are we in, book or show?"

There's a thousand ways to answer that question but the most expedient to our present circumstance is to simply observe Winterfell. In the books its walls are 80 ft high and in the show they are 40 ft high. Straightforward and simple enough, but I'd like to confirm by several variables as opposed to the one. Daenerys' eyes are amethyst in the books but green in the show and I could look into those eyes all day…focus! Tyrion is noticeably less handsome in the books as compared to the show. Theon's sister is called "Asha" in the books and "Yara" in the show. Rob Stark married Talisa Maegyr in the show (who died in the Red Wedding) but he married Jeyne Westerling in the books (who is decidedly not dead…that I am aware of). Catelyn Stark became a reanimated, vengeful corpse witch in the books as opposed the not-reanimated regular corpse she became in the show.

Then there's Euron Greyjoy…and that thought makes my blood run cold. He's either a sex obsessed, idiot pirate man or he's the Bloodstone Emperor reborn: a true pirate lord, dark sorcerer, brilliant evil incarnate hellbent on using blood, death, pain, and offering the world itself up as a sacrifice so he can ascend to the plane of Lovecraftian Elder Gods. Gods, I hope I'm in the world of the show.

Though that leads me to another invaluable question, "when in Westeros am I?"

Fortunately, that answer will be addressed rather straightforwardly. All I really have to do is talk about current events with the populace and I should be able to deduce the "when" fairly easily. That just leaves the pragmatic and strategic concerns. Me flying around on a Charizard is an incredible boon to my efforts but it potentially mortgages Daenerys' political cache if her primary claim to fame, being the only person in the world with dragons, is undermined by virtue of some weirdo flying around on a dwarf dragon who knows martial arts, is common knowledge. If we're in the endgame then it doesn't matter because she's already amassed her forces and consolidated her power.

There's between a hundred and a thousand additional questions that will spin out of each answer I get, but if I try to get too far ahead of it in my head I'll waste the whole winter standing on the edge of this forest. I look over at Char,

Me: "Char, I'm going in on foot from here. I need you to maintain a low profile and remain hidden in these woods. Under no circumstances must you be seen by people yet."

He gestures and growls in response. He's asking me, "but what should I do if am?", with the implication being, "how lethal am I allowed to get?"

Me: "Stay hidden, don't leave the tree line and stay well out of sight of the road. That will minimize the chances of you being seen and then if you are…a fleeting glance by a handful of hunters will be dismissed as tall tales. Killing them would create more problems than it would solve."

He gives me a thumbs up and I salute him in return. I take my staff with me but leave my Jian behind.

It's a miserable trek. The sky is overcast so I can't tell if it's late morning or early afternoon, the cold is bone chilling, the snow drifts are as high as my waist, and the road itself is nothing but ice and mud. I curse myself a thousand times for not allowing Char to fly me to the front gate but in the end, I know this was the correct decision; as grueling as it is. As I walk down the Kingsroad, for what feels like hours, I desperately hope that some merchant cart will pass me that I can bum a ride off of. Eventually I am so fortunate.

A man in his fifties named Royce comes a long in a one-horse carriage. Somehow, I mange to be either charming or pitiable enough that he allows me to catch a ride. He strikes me as a stern but decent fellow. He's travelling along with his eldest daughter Jocelyn. I'm too sociable a creature to not engage in conversation, especially over extended periods of time.

Me: "So what brings you fine folks to Winterfell?"
Royce: "Ta sell ow wares."
Me: "Huh, I thought that'd be out season."
Royce: "Oi, ow so?"
Me: "Pardon the obvious but is winter not here? I thought all the smallfolk would be hunkering down as the castle closed its gates."
Royce: "Na, tha Noiuth King called his banners and now that dem Bottans been beaten tha rest o them be heedin'."
Me: "So I take it the gates aren't closed and business is busier than ever."
Royce: "Cisely!"

Jocelyn sits there mostly in silence on top of the pelts as the cart rattles along the mud road. I speak to her:

Me: "So take it your brothers do most of the hunting."
Royce: "Ya, that be so."
Me: "But the customers prefer talking to a pretty face…"

She smiles excitedly.

Jocelyn: "You could say tha."
Royce: "Ya be lookin' fer a wife, stranger?"
Me: "No sir, I'm a long way removed from settling down."
Royce: "Then ya can cut that swee singin' of yers or ya be walkin'."

Jocelyn and I look at each other in knowing exasperation.

Me: "Aye sir, your carriage your rules."
Jocelyn: "Bu wit all these lords and soldiers abou, maybe I find a husband."
Royce: "Ugh, now ya gone n got er started."
Jocelyn: "An wha be so bad about tha?"
Royce: "Yer sister is to wee to help yer mudder. Couple mor years, thas all I ask."
Me: "The world might not have a few more years."
Royce: "Ah, so that be yer business! Yur one of em doom singers."
Me: "Quite the opposite actually. I'm here to help save it."
Royce: "Well bless ma boots, we got owselves a regular Azor Hi wid us! Do be so brave as to save us from dem snarks an grumpkins!"
Me: "You should pack up your whole family and take them south."

The conversation maintained itself as this half-cordial argument for the rest of the trip as me and the old man trade mild barbs with one another. By the time the sun has begun to set we arrive at Winterfell, the ancestral home of the Starks. Large camps of soldiers are gathered outside the walls. King Jon Snow is assembling the full army of the North, that narrows down the "when" considerably. Once we're through the gates I depart from my fellow travelers.

Me: "Royce, you're definitely not the best travelling companion I've ever had but you're also far from the worst. Stay safe, stay well."
Royce: "Oi lad, d'on you go dyin' fer their war."
Me: "Wise words, brother. Jocelyn, live your life at some point."

She extends her hand to me. I gently clasp and kiss it. With that our paths part ways, never to converge again.

The daylight is nearly gone and the already freezing temperature is falling precipitously fast. Anyone caught outside, away from a fire would surely perish in the night. I'll get what answers I can but I must secure shelter for myself sooner rather than later.

I walk about the castle, inside the exterior wall. The Stark sigil hangs from the walls. Indeed Jon has overthrown the Boltons. Speaking of said walls, they're 40 ft high. I'm 95% sure that I'm in the world of the show and not the books but I need a little more knowledge to confirm it. I could always stumble into a pub and pretend to be a drunkard, using that as my excuse to chat up the locals. The problem with that is that at best they're working off of second or third hand knowledge of events. They could genuinely mean every word and be entirely wrong. My only other option would be to engage the players in the 'Game". The information gained will be solid but it will alert them to my presence on the board.

A handful answers open the door to multitudinous follow up questions. Has Jon left for Dragonstone yet? Is Arya here yet? Is Petyr Baelish still alive? That last one is particularly pressing. If he's still around he's a piece that I'll have to eliminate post haste. Then there is the biggest question of them: what of Bran, aka the Three Eyed Raven? My anger pulses through my body at the mere of thought of that thing. The darkness rises in my soul and I know my eyes must entirely yellow. Sith lightning flickers from my fingertips. But I breath deep, find my balance and contain the rage.

That is the king I must eliminate to win the game but if I try to win it all now, I'll be risking too much. After thinking it through a little, my choice is made clear. I must infiltrate the keep. I must avoid a fight at all costs, not because I'm at all afraid of losing, but I can't afford to be seen as these people's enemy. I try to sense people's locations but 1.) I've never actually met any of these people so what exactly their aura is is unclear to me, and 2.) I don't want to put out my own signature so much that it'll attract the attention of the Raven. I must be careful. I cover my head with the hood of my black cloak.

My first move: walk up to the front door and speak directly to the guards. They respond as you would expect.

Guard 1: "Halt! You have no business here beggar."

I wave my hand as I speak.

Me: "You've been expecting me."
Guard 1: "I'm glad you came, sir."
Me: "I'm sorry I kept you waiting."
Guard 2: "It's damn time you showed! Do you know how co'wd it is?"
Me: "I appreciate your patience."
Guard 1: "Well don't go testing it no more!"
Me: "Please be so kind as to not mention this."
Guard 2: "Look, we'll let it slide this time but you can't make this a regular habit."
Me: "Thank you sirs."

And just like that, I'm through the door. Now I'm a bit of a pickle. The Jedi mind trick is great against the poor sods who got stuck with the night shift but the closer you get to royalty the sterner their wills get. My capacity with that ability will hit a very hard limit very quickly. Now my other option will effectively make me invisible to all of them but it could ping the Raven's radar. I'm not a ninja, I can't sneak around on pure skill. I'm going to risk alerting the Raven.

With a simple hand gesture and incantation said under my breath I cast a simple Sith spell to mask my presence. It won't last long but it should last long enough. An hour or so.

I move through the halls unseen but I must be conscious that I'm still very much a physical presence capable of making noise. I maintain my distance from people and I go out of my way to make sure I walk softly on stone and avoid wooden floors. There is no sign of Jon Snow but Lady Sansa is definitely here. No signs of Baelish or Arya but that doesn't necessarily mean much, neither would come out of the shadows unless they wanted to. Do I dare seek out the Raven?

I could end it now. I may never get another chance as good as this. No, not yet. He's too valuable to the battle with the undead. I cannot move against him until the Night King is dead. Rest well Raven, this decision may very well be my undoing.

As I wander, I eventually round a corner to find Arya with her back turned to me overlooking the main hall from the mezzanine. I damn near trip over myself in my panic and my foot grazes the wall making a faint *thud* noises. She turns around and looks straight at me, but averts her gaze after a moment. The youngest Stark daughter, the person trained by the Faceless men of Braavos, the world's greatest assassin can't see me but she knows something, or someone is there. I remain completely motionless, hesitating to breath. She walks towards me. She's mere inches from me and I'm holding my breath. Just as her eyes seem to settle on mine I project an identical *thud* sound down the hall. Arya hears it and cautiously follows the sound.

I breath as deeply as I can summon up the courage to dare. My spell is on the back half of its shelf life, its time to risk being direct. Guided by sensing her presence, I find my way to Lady Sansa's chambers. I know this because I watch as she enters the room. As she closes the door, I use the force to ensure the door is left slightly ajar. Once I presume she is settled I gently nudge and pull the door through the force to make it seem as if it was blown open by the wind. Just as Lady Sansa is cautiously approaching the door I run in, slam the door and throw the lock with a couple flicks of my wrist.

She is clearly taken aback but her resolve is not broken and she does not scream.

Me: "Don't be afraid."
Sansa: "I'm not afraid of much anymore."

With that I dissipate the cloaking spell and take off my hood. There I stand in grey monk's garments, black cloak, and staff in hand. She stands there clad in black leather and wolf's fur coat. She is cold, commanding, and beautiful.

Me: "Is Baelish dead?"
Sansa: "Haven't you heard?"
Me: "Is that a yes?"
Sansa: "It depends on why you ask."
Me: "So I can know if he's crossed off the list."
Sansa: "And who else is on that list?"
Me: "Not you."
Sansa: "I say again, who else is on that list?"

She takes note of my hesitation to answer. My first instinct is to say, "no one you care about", but she still thinks of the Raven as Bran. I know this answer will set her against me but I'm confident I know how to play this.

Me: "Where is Jon?"

She doesn't answer, she won't answer but I don't need her to. Her body will betray her. All I need is to watch for the response.

Me: "Is he with the dragon queen?"

Her lip curls at the suggestion.

Me: "They've already gone north of the Wall, haven't they?"

Sansa is as cold stone.

Me: "I'm too late."
Sansa: "Too late for what?"
Me: "To save them from the worst idea in the history of this world. They're in King's Landing negotiating with Cersei, aren't they?"
Sansa: "How do you know that?"
Me: "Because Brienne of Tarth isn't here guarding you."
Sansa: "That doesn't answer my question."

Oh Sansa, you've come a long way from that naive teen girl haven't you? I'm genuinely sorry it came at the cost of so much pain for you. For better and for worse Baelish has infected you. I take a moment to respond, I'm mentally calling out for Char. He's as fast as lightning but it'll still take him at least 10 minutes to get here. Fortunately for me I fancy myself a conversationalist. I can buy that much time, easy.

Me: "Nor will this but since I'm just going to have to explain myself all over again when Jon and Dany get here, I'm going to go ahead and spare you the hassle of hearing this twice. For now what I'll say is this: your brother in the wheelchair ain't the only magician around."
Sansa: "Dany? That's an awfully cordial regard for a queen."
Me: "You think I'm working for her."

Look, she's not wrong in that assumption, Daenerys just has no knowledge of my service to her cause yet.

Sansa: "If you're not then who's man are you?"
Me: "My own."
Sansa: "So then why did a man of his own ambition force his way into a lady's chamber?"

Let me be absolutely clear: she is completely wrong in her assumption, but she is entirely within reason to reach that conclusion.

Me: "I had questions that needed answering."
Sansa: "Sorry I couldn't help."
Me: "Oh I assure you, you told me everything I needed to know."

Then a thought occurred to me. I've been stalling time for my ally. What if…

Me: "Arya's standing behind me, isn't she?"

Sansa's eye grow wide as she looks at her sister. I only have a split second to react. I wheel around to see Arya leaping at me Cat's Paw, her Valyrian steel dagger, drawn. A simple force push is more than enough to slam her into the wall but she won't stay down for long. Just as I'm about to move forward I sense Sansa attempting to stab me with her own dagger. Without even turning my head I manage to catch her hand. Slowly I turn my face towards her.

Me: "I'm not going to hurt you."

Arya unsheathes Needle, her undersized rapier, and lunges towards me. I let go of Sansa and deflect it with my staff. If it were not for my force enhanced reflexes I'd already be dead. Sansa seizes the opportunity to call for the guards. I duck out of the room but Arya pursues me. We trade strikes and parries in the narrow corridors. I cannot undersell just how damn good she is.

Eventually the guards catch up to us but I can easily shove them aside with the force. They've never encountered anything like and don't even posses a conceptualization of what is being employed against them. But they do make useful obstacles to impede Arya. As stand by a window I see a flash of flame streak by in the darkness. That's when I make a run for it. I manage to get outside on top one of the walls. Arya has not let up.

I run to what anyone would rightly presume is a dead end on the edge of the wall. The air is absolutely freezing and the stone is slick. I turn my back to the edge and face Arya.

Arya: "It's over."
Me: "Yes it is."

As I say the words, Char rises from below. A plume of flame erupts from his mouth as he roars. Arya stumbles back and I take the chance while she's caught off balance to force push her down, pin and hold her there. The whole castle awakens with a cold panic. Char flaps over and places himself right next to me atop the wall. Then I lift Arya into the air and hold her over the wall.

Me: "Lady Sansa!"

The Lady of Winterfell comes post-haste and her cold, commanding visage is all but gone. She's begging for her sister's life.

Sansa: "Please don't hurt her!"
Me: "I'm not going to, so long as you parlay with us."

I give a nod to Char; who crosses his arms, smiles wryly, and nods along.

Me: "We've been the worst kind of intruders and we'll await your judgment in the morning, from the comfort of a warm cell. But you'll hear me out and listen well before you render your judgment. Is this not fair?"
Sansa: "Yes, most fair. Now put her down."
Me: "As you wish my lady."

With that concordance agreed upon I oblige my end of the bargain. Arya scuttles to her feet, out of breath, glares at me with utter contempt. I've made a powerful enemy tonight. Char, who can barely fit through the passage ways are escorted down to the cells. As the justicar fumbles with the keys, Char simply forces the door open and the two of us walk in. The justicar tries to close the broken door to no avail.

Contempt oozes between Sansa's teeth as she speaks to me.

Sansa: "Would you like some wood for a fire?"
Me: "Thank you my lady but we have it in well in hand."

Char curls up, bringing his fiery tail around as I lean against him. He gives her a thumb's up.

Sansa: "Who are you?"
Me: "Forgive me my lady, I'll answer that and much more in the morning."
Sansa: "That's quite alright. I'll get my own answers."

With that final statement she leaves. Arya lingers after her. She's glaring pure murder into my eyes. I've shown her up and she detests me for it. After a tense moment she follows her sister's suit. Char rubs his face against me as if her were some giant cat. I pat him in kind and he lays down to sleep.

I know good and damn well what Sansa was talking about. She's going to the Raven to try and get answers about me. Now the most important question, the one fact that my entire plan hinges upon, will be answered, "can the Three Eyed Raven see me in this world?" Since I'm not of this plane I'm betting everything on that answer being, "no." Let's hope this absurd quest of mine is not already rendered in vain.

Me: "Good night Char. Sleep well, we've got quite the morning ahead of us."

At least we're not in the mud and snow during the sub-zero temperature's of Northern winter.